#as for journalists and serious conversations

[thought-42]

A thing that I really enjoy is that all the Fae we’ve seen for an extended time onscreen (Ferne, Yu, Ira) are just a little unhinged. And then Loquatius fucking Seelie is just this guy. Just this dude with the character traits of a mortal. But you know it’s in there. You know there’re are so many things he is not saying and doing because if he did it would be fucking wild. And yes some of that is Sam deliberately playing up Loquatius fitting in with the mortals as a personal and professional tool, and yes some of that is probably Sam just not really thinking about the differences between Fae and mortals, but

[silent-partner-412]

I only just beat Chapter 8 (9? I can’t remember the exact number) in Engage and so far I definitely don’t think the story is that bad at all, I’m honestly enjoying it quite a bit. It feels like they’re doing a lot with a little in the plot, like it’s definitely a very simple premise but I feel like the different plot beats from chapter to chapter have been interesting and entertaining enough to keep my attention. Like, I think the Brodia stuff has been genuinely good.

This might just be because I’m coming off the heels of the Elibe games which have quite dull plots and an especially dull world, so the amount of world building here in comparison seems better than it is? But either way I think people who are saying this plot is horrible Fates tier garbage are exaggerating a lot lol. Obviously it’s not on the level of Three Houses or the Tellius games but if it stays good enough throughout the game then maybe it’ll at least be Sacred Stones tier? I don’t know, I’m trying to stay optimistic.

[delulujuls]

loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

[lovebugism]

Random conversations with rockstar eddie while high that obviously lead to something dirty 👀

ty for requesting :D — eddie asks you who you'd most want to have a threesome with and confessions are shared (band!au, established relationship, mentions of weed and smut 18+, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

It started out all cute, in your defense. 

The tour bus was parked in Colorado for the next couple of nights, and the mountains and trees were aflame with a very distinct golden color. You and Eddie chose to bask in the orange while the rest of the band spent the evening in the hotel.

Your night alone was an innocent one — despite the cheeky taunts and whistles from the rest of Corroded Coffin. Squished together in your bunk, the two of you got high and proceeded to talk about everything and nothing all at once. 

You share one pillow, noses mere inches apart, just barely fitting together on the small mattress. The skunky smell of weed and Eddie’s musky cologne is all-consuming, suffocating in the best way. 

Your poorly concealed giggles fill the silence of the bus as you press your palm against Eddie’s pale one, comparing the size difference between the two. It shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does.

“Would you still love me if Roger Taylor asked you out?” Eddie blurts, growing suddenly serious about the question that only just popped into his mind. 

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He thought it, and the words just sorta spilled from his mouth.

Your brows pinch at the sudden question, though there’s still a small smile on your face. You can’t be sure where he’s coming from — if it’s the weed or if he remembers the one time you very drunkenly confessed to having a decade-long obsession with the blonde-haired drummer in your girlhood.

“What?” you wonder, still giggling.

“I mean, like, if he showed up to one of our shows and asked you out, would you say yes?”

You ponder the question. For a few seconds too long, maybe. Mostly because it takes you a little while to understand him through the brain fog.

“Well… no,” you answer finally, voice wavering as your eyes flit to the darkened ceiling.

“No?”

“No,” you repeat, more firmly this time. Your gaze returns to his chocolate one, made a darker shade from the black night — they sparkle, still. A grin blooms on your face. “But I think if you really loved me, you’d let me fuck him. Just one time.”

You’re obviously kidding. It’s just a stupid joke made more evident by the dumb, lopsided smile on your face and the pointer finger you hold up to your nose.

Eddie knows this, and he’s sporting his own rosy grin accordingly. A fleeting thought sears his brain. It bubbles up in his throat and tumbles out before he can stop it.

“Only if I get to watch,” he retorts, all boyish and quiet. 

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not. But then again, it usually is. You decide to toe the line, anyway. “Really?” you hum, shifting on the mattress to face him more intently.

The boy shrugs while you smooth ornery curls from his temple. “Yeah. You’re hot. He’s hot. One plus one equals two… Or whatever that expression is.”

“Fair,” you concede, laughing still.

“Alright. Your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhmm,” he nods sloppily against the pillow. “Who would you wanna have a threesome with? Like, in a different universe or whatever, ‘cause I don’t think I’m strong enough to share you in real life.”

Again, you giggle. You can’t seem to stop, apparently. You answer quicker than either of you expect.

“Umm… Maybe Nancy,” you answer with a strange sort of nonchalance. “She’s hot… And also she looks like she slaps really hard.”

Eddie’s brain goes blank. And not from the weed this time.

He knew Nancy. Vaguely. Mostly from you. She’s your old friend from high school that you reconnect with every couple of months. You don’t talk crazy often — ‘cause life is too busy for an up-and-coming rockstar and Indiana’s best journalist — but the connection is never truly lost.

And it’s not just that you chose Nancy without having to think about it very hard. He just wasn’t expecting it to be someone you knew in real life. Someone so tangible. That Roger Taylor scenario would only ever happen in wet dreams — his, namely — but Nancy Wheeler? That could be arranged.

The thought alone has him reeling.

You watch him get in his head about the whole thing, though maybe the faraway look in his eyes is just from the weed.

“Well?” you press with an urging lilt and a girlish grin. “You’re turn, Eds. Don’t leave me hangin’ here.”

He goes quiet, which is very unlike your loudmouth boy. He thinks before he speaks, measures his reply before he answers. His absentminded fingers trace up and down the length of your arm all the while, leaving prickling goosebumps in their wake.

“What about Steve?” he wonders with a painfully nonchalant inflection.

Your face screws up instantaneously. You don’t mean to act as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “Steve?” you blurt, louder than you meant to. “Like… Steve Steve?”

As in your ex-boyfriend Steve.

As in one of his best friends Steve.

As in roommate Steve the couple weeks out of the year you two aren’t on the road.

It makes your head spin something fierce.

“There another Steve I don’t know about?” Eddie jokes.

Brows still pinched and face still twisted, you question, “So you wanna… fuck Steve? Like, Steve The Hair Harrington?”

“You did,” the boy shrugs, then fakes a soft pout. “Sometimes I feel left out…”

You press your palm to his chest, pushing him playfully away. His arm curls around your back to pull you close again. The proximity is lesser now, so much so that the tips of your nose brush together and your skunky breaths entwine.

It all feels so much heavier now. The intensity of the moment makes you fight back a shiver crawling up your spine. Eddie’s palm smooths up and down the length of it in a slow and measured rhythm. It does little to ease your breathlessness.

“I don’t know. I just think it could be fun,” the boy concludes with a sudden seriousness. His voice is as low as his eyelids. “And I think it’d be real hot to watch him fuck you… ‘Cause we both know he can’t make you cum like I can. Can he, doll?”

Your thighs clench together instinctually, as though to quell the sudden ache pounding between them. You nod slowly, wordlessly.

Eddie’s rosy lips quirk in a cheeky half-smile at your honeyed reaction. He continues — half because the high has loosened his tongue and half because he wants to see how flustered he can make you.

“And then he can watch you fall apart on my dick after, yeah?” he questions like you’re in any space to answer him. “Maybe I can give him a few pointers… Teach him how to fuck you properly, you know?”

The distant ache between your thighs has grown to a full bloom now. It’s a little embarrassing how effortlessly he can drive you crazy — how quickly he can make you drench your panties. You might’ve been a little shameful about it if you couldn’t feel his cock stiffening against your hip.

“Fuck, Eds…” you sigh, the words tumbling from your mouth without thinking. 

With parted lips, you drift towards the boy and his unkissed mouth. He juts his chin slightly backward, only lets your plush bottom lips graze together. You don’t know why he’s teasing you. You’re already a puddle at his feet.

With a smirk and an all-consuming touch along your spine, he makes a quiet promise. “And maybe, if you’re real good, you can watch me fuck him, too…”

[mirohlayo]

YOUR PRECIOUS ATTENTION | LN4

( lando doesn't like when you give your attention to someone else, when all he wants is to be with you )

warning : fluff, some jealousy

word count : 2.7k

!! english not my first language !!

you greet acquaintances as you walk and try to find your way in the paddock. you walk towards the McLaren garage and then your eyes search for your boyfriend. shortly after, you find him next to oscar and some engineers. they're talking and have serious faces. you want to greet them (lando actually) but you decide to not intrude their conversation because it looks serious and important, probably about the qualifications. so you wait. a little long. maybe a little too long. lando doesn't seem to have noticed you. well actually you arrived 30 minutes earlier than expected and that's why lando have no idea that you are here, waiting for him.

so you keep waiting. and waiting. time passes and now you've been waiting for 20 minutes. you know very well that the conversation was going to last a little longer, races are really important for lando and his team because it's their jobs. so instead of wasting your time and wait for him, you decide to take a walk inside the paddock, because as time passed you got bored.

a lot of people are present of course. engineers, journalists, racing teams, staff and the drivers' friends and family. but now you're used to that crowd. you're dating lando for quite a while now and attending almost all his races enabled you to be comfortable with this environment and atmosphere. and actually you really enjoy it. being able to meet new people, having funny conversations with them, the stressful feeling of races and qualifications, happiness when the racing team does a good job. you know that you're a very lucky person to have access to all of that.

you keep walking slowly, observing here and there around the paddock. then you find hamilton, saying goodbye to some guys and he notices you right after. you smile at him as he walks towards you, smiling back to you. he stops himself in front of you.

- nice to see you here y/n ! he says with a great smile.

- nice to see you too lewis ! you answered.

- why you're taking a walk alone ? he frowns a bit and then raises his brows like he found something. your boyfriend is too occupied right ?

you laugh and nod.

- yeah, looks like he was having a serious conversation with the engineers, i didn't want to intrude. but it's okay, i enjoy walking alone around the paddock.

- would you like to walk with me a bit then ? i've finished checking things with my team and i'm not gonna lie i need some distraction, he adresses to you a big smile.

part of you want to decline your friend's offer but you remember lando is still in the mclaren garage and if you join him now he'd probably be still here talking, not having time for you. and it's been a while since you last spoke with lewis.

- okay, let's go. but just for like 10 minutes, otherwise lando will wonder where i am and search for me all around the paddock, you say in a grin.

- don't worry, i won't take up too much of his girlfriend's time, he joked.

you guys start to walk slowly, enjoying the presence of each other. lewis is actually a good friend of you. well it's thanks to him that you're now lando's girlfriend. you're one of his closest friend, you know him for some years now. one day, he asked you to come to watch him pilot. you said that you didn't have the time, too busy with your job. he had to beg you and made you free up time to come over and watch a grand prix. finally, you gave up and went a sunday to the race. and you don't regret coming that day, because it's when you met for the first time lando. and now he's your boyfriend. lewis really deserves an appreciation for that.

- when i think that at the beginning you were a supporter of Mercedes, he grin and look down at your mclaren hoodie. the number 4 was on the back of it.

- guess tastes change, you answered playfully.

- especially not because of one particular boy, he's now giving you a implicit look.

- oh please shut up, you say in a smile and hit his shoulder.

he laugh at you. sometimes you forget lewis can be very teasing when he wants.

- but it's okay, i like lando. especially because he got me rid of an irritating girl, he jokes and can't hide his vicious smile.

- you lewis !! you give him a blow in the ribs and  shoot a black look. you try to bite back a smile but his laugh and teasing can't help it.

- i'm not going to remind you that roscoe loves me more than you, you tease him. and well, it's the truth.

- don't even try to continue on this topic. you know it breaks my heart y/n, he says and place his hand over his heart like he was hurt.

- so dramatic, you laugh and roll your eyes.

you can't deny it but your teasing game with lewis is something that you really like. you missed these interactions with your friend. and so does he.

you both are so into your teasing game that you don't even realizes you're now in front of the mclaren paddock. and what you also didn't noticed was how lando is looking at you two.

he finished his checking conversation with the engineers and oscar not so long ago. he thought that you were already in the garage waiting for him. but how suprised he was when he found out you were not here. first, he thought you were just in the toilets, or in his drivers room. so he calmed down a bit and went to his room. but you were not here too. then he started looking for you, searching everywhere until he finds you here in front of him, laughing and joking with hamilton. you look happy, looking at him with a playful look and smile, slapping his arm and then shoot him back a black look trying not to burst out laughing at the dumb things he says.

lando can't help but felt his heart tightens. the way you are just having a fun time with lewis, laughing like it is the funniest moment of your life, your hand touching his shoulder so that you don't lose your balance because you have this habit of almost falling to the ground when you're laughing to hard. and that usually happens when you are with lando, when he makes you laugh because oh he loves the sound of your laugh and your big smile, especially when he's the reason of it. but seeing you in this exact state with his driver friend instead of him, he just doesn't like that at all. yeah, he hates it. and he also feel guilty about it. he likes hamilton because he's his friend, but above all because it's thanks to him that you're his girlfriend.

he feel like he has no right to feel like that, because originally you are a friend of hamilton and he met you after him, when you were already one of his closest friends. if lewis didn't bring you that sunday, lando wouldn't be bere to be yours. but he also can't stand seeing you being so close to him, like it's just the two of you against the world. he just wants to be the only one for you, to be the only one that make you smile and laugh like that. just him and you. just you giving him all your attention. maybe he was just a bit insecure.

he sigh and take a deep breath. then he walks towards you two. he stop himself behind you and in front of the other driver and you are still laughing like kids until lewis notices him.

- looks like the prince if finally here for his princess, lewis says earning a grin from lando.

- yes, i come to save her, he reply in a grin but with an annoying tone, that he hopes you haven't heard. it comes harsher than he wanted.

- i am a troublemaker or something ? lewis joked and tease his friend.

- of course you are, you're always bothering me when lando is not here ! you say, still teasing him.

- oh stop i already know you loves him so much and would rather be with him than me in any situations, the mercedes driver give a playful look to the mclaren driver while saying this to you.

- of course, he's lando norris. how can i not love him ? you reply softly.

lando feel his heart lights. he can't help but smile at your sweet words. you look so in love with him it just makes lando so so happy. he drop his gaze on you and you give him a big smile, the one he cherishes with all of his heart. he wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to his body.

- oh please don't do that in front of me, lewis says and act like he was disgusted, just to tease and bother you.

- not my fault if you don't have someone to hug, you reply, defending you and your boyfriend.

- yes it is, he reply back to back.

- no, it is not.

and like that you guys keep arguing about why lewis never hugs people and that he's maybe in need of affection. and lando was just there, trying to follow the debate.

you are just giving almost all of your attention to hamilton instead of him. and lando just hates that. he just want to run away from you and eclipse himself for the whole day, distancing himself from you until you give him your divine attention. maybe he is childish for thinking like that, but he just feels so jealous right now. for him, lewis is just stealing his girl. he should be the one debating with her, not the one who is here on the side and just standing like a bot. he is getting more jealous and angry. and he doesn't like that.

so, instead of just explodes in front of you two, he try to get your attention by squishing your hand, or your waist. reaching his hand to replace a strand of hair on your face, pull the sleeve of your hoodie, randomly kissing quickly your cheeks or the back of your hand. he just keeps touching you gently and softly and each time you look up at him and give him some bit of attention he feels relieve and happiness fills his body. but not a second later you're back talking and laughing with lewis. and then he can't stand it anymore.

he walks away from you and left you here with hamilton, not even daring to look back. he feels like an idiot for his shit behavior towards you and his mate but he gets sick by just seeing you so close with an another man than him. he knows damn well jealousy is not something good in a relationship, but he's so done. he is so annoyed and irritated by what happened that he completely forgot he has the qualifying. he enter the mclaren garage in a virulent way, and some people notice it, oscar being one of them.

- hey mate, you look like you're going to kill someone, oscar joked as he comes closer to the driver.

- maybe because that's what's going to happen, lando reply in a irritating tone.

oscar get silent for a moment and frown. he examines lando's expression.

- what happened ? he asked cautiously, not wanting to make things getting worse.

- nothing, don't worry, lando reply coldly.

- you're sure ?

lando turn to face his teammate and calm down a bit. he sigh and pat his shoulder to reassure him.

- yeah, just some silly things i think about. he pause for a second and then he gives him a determined look. let's do our best for the qualifying mate !

oscar smiles and nod his head, even though he's still worried about his friend statement.

and then, the qualifying takes place.

----

you're now waiting for your boyfriend in his drivers room. you know something bad happened, or maybe you did something wrong but the way your lover just left you in the middle of the paddock like an abandoned child makes you worrying about him. he looked angry, furious and frustrated because his walk wast fast and he didn't even look back. you want to know and understand why he reacts like that.

the race just finish some minutes ago, and lando will come soon into his driver room to dropped some stuff out as usual.

and then the door opens. you meet his eyes, and they're a lot of different emotions in it when he realizes that you're here. you stand up and guide yourself to him.

- lan, you whisper softly.

you try to approach him but he moves and take a step back. you're hurt.

- can we talk about what happened please ? i know something bother you.

he lift up his head to meet your gaze. and he didn't expect to see your hurt expression on your face. now he feels even more guilty than during the race. because yes, he regretted his behavior and how childish he was towards you when he was on the track. he couldn't concentrate fully on the race because of you and his shit actions. and now seeing you in this state makes him want to kiss you and hold you tight. his heart is crying.

- yeah, sure.

- why did you walk away like that ? something happened i know it, you start.

he avoid your gaze and start playing with his fingers. he's nervous. he does not want to reveal that he was so jealous of lewis because you would think he's such a kid and immature. a moment of silence fill the air. you notice that he looks nervous, so you try to help him.

- it is because of me ? you ask gently.

- not really, he answers still not looking at you.

- lando tell me what's wrong. i want to know because i'm confused and i don't want you to keep things to yourself. you can talk to me baby.

- i'm so sorry love, he says. then the second later, you're in his strong arms. he pulls you very close to his body and hide his face in your neck. so so sorry. i didn't intend to hurt you.

you sigh and gently rub his back.

- i'm not. just tell me how you feel lan. i promise i already forgave you, just tell me about your feelings please.

he goes silent for a minute, keeping you close to him.

- it's just... i didn't like the way the two of you interacted later. you were laughing a lot because of lewis and you kept making jokes with him. and i felt like you were ignoring me and enjoyed more his presence than mine. i don't like when you're close to an other man. i want you just for myself. i know this is selfish and childish because originally you're one of his closest friend but you were giving all of your attention to him instead of me. i was huh... jealous.

you move a bit away just to look at his face. you can see how guilty and hurt he is, like he was begging your pardon through his eyes. this picture breaks your heart in two. sometimes you feel like you don't deserve him.

- ohh my sweet boy... i understand how you feel. you have the right to feel like that. i was having fun with lewis because it's been a long time since we last saw each other and i didn't even think that it could have affected you so much. i'm so sorry love... so sorry. you know i also want to keep you all to myself.

- we're quits i guess.

you laugh softly and hug him. his hands rub your back slowly.

- i just want your precious attention y/n, lando says close to your lips.

- now you'll have it lando, you reply in a grin.

he smiles wide and pulls you closer. god he just loves you so so much, it sometimes hurts. he leans in and kisses you, squeezing your waist as you cup his face in your hands.

and you'll never leave his side, giving him all your attention for the rest of the day. and the rest of the week-end.

[nat-ter]

superbat fic idea: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are dating. Superman and Batman are teammates.

The first time Clark Kent joins the Wayne's for dinner, Bruce's kids realise that Clark Kent is Superman. Surely if they can immediately figure out Superman's civillian identity, World's Greatest Detective probably already did too. It makes sense, Bruce has always talked about Superman this and Superman that so they knew he definitely has a crush on the hero, and it's good that he seems to get his act together and ask Clark out. If anything, the kids are happy for him. And if Bruce knew Clark is Superman, surely he would've already revealed his own alter ego too. The whole "meet the family" was probably also Bruce's way of testing his kids, to see if their extensive training paid off and could see what is right in front of them.

Except. World's Greatest Detective, Batman, The Dark Knight himself, is in the dark about his boyfriend's superhero life. And Clark Kent, investigative journalist with superpowers and supersenses, has no idea he's dating Batman. But far be it from Bruce's kids to ever question the intelligence of Batman or by extension, Superman.

Cue, the Batkids acting overly familiar with Superman much to Superman's confusion; Bruce's children sharing what is supposed to be an inside joke with Clark when Batman or Superman happens to come up in a conversation even though Clark doesn't look like he gets the joke; Batkids greeting Clark Kent like an old pal when he happens to be in a Gotham crime scene; Bruce's children calling for Superman when they need him to do something, which is usually really mundane like "Superman! Superman! I got my baseball stuck on the roof can you please come and take it for me?", but Superman always does come because these are his boyfriend's kids of course he'd do anything for them even if they don't know that Superman is Clark Kent.

Even though they find it weird that Bruce talks as if Clark and Superman are two different people, they just chalk it up to Bruce being Bruce and refusing to mix Batman's business and Bruce Wayne's. And if Bruce refuses to mix their personal life with their professional life, then there's nothing Clark can do but follow Bruce's steps because Bruce is a control freak and Clark seems to be completely smitten with Bruce. Right? It makes perfect sense.

(And Bruce is perplexed. On one hand, his kids seem to adore Clark whenever the man comes over, or even when he doesn't, they would ask about him— Is he coming over this weekend? Can they visit his parents' farm? But on the other, his kids seem to try and set him up with Superman too, if the jokes and innuendos they make were any indication. Should Bruce talk to his kids? Tell them he's serious with Clark? But shouldn't they already know that he is? Is this their way of showing their dislike for Clark? But what is there not to love about Clark? Bruce ended up brooding a lot these days.)

[rwrbmovie]

the category is journalists writing the intros to their pieces about their interviews with both nick & taylor:

(text version under the cut)

EW | The Awardist:

Teen Vogue:

GQ:

EW | The Awardist:

From the moment they both enter the virtual video chat to talk about their 2023 smash-hit rom-com Red, White & Royal Blue, Nicholas Galitzine and Taylor Zakhar Perez are roasting each other, throwing out playful jabs.Their friendship and connection are undeniable, and it's immediately evident that the bond they share in Matthew López's movie, based on Casey McQuiston's enormously popular book of the same name, extends off camera as well.

Teen Vogue:

Red, White & Royal Blue stars Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzine couldn’t be less serious. In conversation, the banter is endless, the charm off the charts. They’re currently embroiled in a discussion about New Zealand vs. Australia. Zakhar Perez refers to New Zealand in conjunction with the “naur” meme and H2O Just Add Water, famously an Australian show, and it sets Galitzine spinning into laughter — before he schools his costar in the dynamic between the two countries.There’s something of a schoolboy zest, darting wherever their brain cells move them in conversation, that makes you think of the cheeky conversations had over the trash can at school, sharpening pencils over and over again to gossip. They jokingly narrate the opening of our interview, even though we’re on a Zoom: “This is Taylor and I’m done talking,” Zakhar Perez throws down, and Galitzine picks it up, “Hi I’m Nick, I’m about to start speaking.”

GQ:

Afternoon tea requires a level of decorum. But in a South Kensington hotel so posh there’s no sign outside, Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzine gleefully ignore the unspoken rules of etiquette when the latter pulls out his phone. “I need to find this video!” Galitzine says, feverishly swiping his screen. “I’m sorry, it’s my favourite video on TikTok.” Given the international nature of the story, we’ve been talking about accents – specifically, about whether Galitzine, who is British, had to adopt a more aristocratic inflection – when he turned the question around. “Are you Scottish?” he asked. (I am.) The revelation ignited something in his brain, and soon he was scouring TikTok. Galitzine is practically vibrating when he finally finds his prized clip. In it, two enraged young Scots lose it when a countryman claims that they pronounce “pie” as “peh.” “SHUT YOUR MOUTH, I HATE YEEEH!” one guy yells, face vermillion. It’s so, so dumb. It’s also hilarious. Zakhar Perez, 31, and Galitzine, 28, fold over and giggle, far too occupied to realise that the phone is on full blast in a tiny room filled with rich tourists. A group of suited Italians not-so-quietly mumble their annoyance from the next table, and Galitzine quickly offers an embarrassed apology.

[pitchsidestories]

10 Things I Hate About You (4) II Alexia Putellas x Reader

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Masterlist I word count: 2687

A/N: Thank you so much for over 600 followers ! We hope you enjoy the requested finale of the 10 Things I Hate About You series. ❤️

Barcelonas next game ended with a 1:0 win against Atletico Madrid. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins when the referee blew the final whistle while your teammates surrounded you, congratulating you on your goal in the 76th minute.

Alexia and you shared a short smile. You gave her a grateful nod. Her spectacular pass set you up for success. Before you two could exchange words of appreciation, Lieke Martens pointed towards the pitchside where a journalist with a microphone in hand stood; "They want you two to answer the press questions."

You sighed, feeling the man’s attention on you; "Can‘t we just celebrate our win in peace?" With a shrug, Alexia passed you; "This is our job too." "Plus, it would be boring without the goal scorer.", Mapis voice appeared behind you. Her hands grabbing your shoulders and gently pushing you into the direction of the camera.

Laughing, you held up your hands; "Okay, okay, I‘m coming." Alexia turned back to you with a wink; "Good girl." You caught up with her and bumped your hip against hers; "Do I have to remind you who scored?" "Remind the reporters.", Alexia rolled her eyes with a smile. "Not necessary, I think they saw it.", you whispered as you approached the journalist who beamed at you two.

"Congrats on you win!", he greeted you. You smiled politely; "Thank you." "That was a great win. Must feel good, right?", he grinned. You poked Alexias upper arm with your finger; "Yes but as our captain here loves to remind us all the time, it‘s still a long way to go." "It is.", Alexia agreed.

Apparently, she had caught the journalist’s attention; "Alexia, did you enjoy your assist tonight or would you have preferred to score yourself?" "A goal is always great but if the team wins and I made an assist, that‘s okay too.", she replied, the corners of her mouth slightly lifting.

Satisfied with both of your performance, you added; "To be fair, it was great that something from training transferred so well to the match." "We worked hard on our on-field communication.", Alexia nodded.

The face of the journalist lit up with interest; "Could you tell us more about that." "Well, maybe some team events helped with that too.", you laughed, but Alexias’s face went serious again; "And extra training sessions." "Exactly, but it was worth it." The journalist nodded slowly; "We can see that. What do you expect from the next games?"

"We‘ll continue to build on that.", Alexia answered courtly. "And hopefully score a few more goals.", you smirked. Finally, Alexias expression softened; "It‘s your turn for an assist now." "I‘ll be ready." "Thank you for your time.", the journalist ended the interview. "Thank you."

Mapi waited for you to right in front of the tunnel; "They couldn’t get enough of you two." "It was just a couple questions. Like usual.", Alexia shrugged, walking past Mapi and straight into the dressing room. While Mapi and you followed her, you explained; "Honestly, it was nothing special, Mapi."

“Sure.”, the defender shrugged.  Annoyed with your teammate Alexia demanded from the younger player: ”Maps, stop looking at us like that.” “Fine, is like that better.”, Mapi grimaced. The midfielder shook her head in amusement: “No.” “You’re no fun.”, the defender sighed dramatically.

You winced when Leila suddenly stepped from the dark to the light parts of the tunnel, wearing a bright grin on her face:” Oh Ale had fun during the interview though.” “You two are so annoying.”, Alexia stated.

A devilish smile appeared on Mapis lips: “You know what’s more annoying?” “That we paused the celebrations for that unnecessary conversation?”, you asked her. Teasingly your captain added: “That you talk too much?” “Now but you’ll realize that in time.”, the blonde defender promised.  Immediately Alexia gave her a frowning look:”What?”

“Mapi, you played great.”, your sister exclaimed cheerfully. The cheeks of Mapi were turning red because of her compliment. Even though you secretly thought they would make an adorable couple you couldn’t help but saying out loud:” Mapi, comes first, huh?”

“Sorry, you played great too.”, she answered blushing. Now it was Alexia who assisted your sister instead of you with reassuring her:  “Ignore her, your sister casually wants to remind everyone who scored the important goal tonight.” “Not true!”, you playfully hit her arm.

Innocently your sibling looked between you two:” She couldn’t have done it without that fantastic assist.” “That’s true.”, you had to admit this much. Was that gratefulness in Alexias eyes, it must have been when she whispered: “Thank you.”

Something between your captain and you had change, and it wasn’t solely because you won that game. But you were too scared to further think about what the change was and what it exactly meant for the both of you.

You could hear your sister speaking softly to your teammate:” Mapi, I can’t believe they manage to talk like normal people now.” “Wait for it.”, louder Mapi continued, turning her heads toward the older player, Ale can you believe it? She has not seen the coast outside of Barcelona yet?!”  “You haven’t?!”, Alexia’s shock was written all over her face.

Nervously you put a loose hair string behind your ear: ”No, I haven’t found the time for that yet.” “How long have you been here now? Do you only play football and sleep?”, your captain pressed on. Her fury caught you off guard. She was the one in the team whose life was centred around football the most. “A few months. And no, I go to the university too.” “Still. You haven’t seen anything of Barcelona yet.”, Alexia muttered in disbelief.  

Quite offended by her reaction you tried to defend yourself:“I saw the city.” “The touristy spots, right.”, she shot back, letting you almost no time to breath. Looking at her was enough to continue to rant:” Knew it. Be ready tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up before sunrise.” “Okay, captain.”, you replied too stunned in what direction your conversation went. Satisfied Alexia nodded:” Good.”

She already turned away from you to leave when you finally were able to gather your thoughts again; "Will Nala join us?" "Seriously?", Alexia replied, more annoyed than surprised. You shrugged with an innocent grin; "Just asking.""At this point, I think you like the dog more than me.", she rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement.

"Possible…" "Wow." "I’m just joking… With your dog, I can’t play like we did today.", you joked. Alexia tilted her head in thought before turning away from you again; "Probably not. I’ll see you tomorrow… with Nala." She smiled at you over her shoulder and left.

When Alexia arrived at your apartment the next morning, it was dark still dark outside. Yawning, you opened the door for her. For a second, you stopped mid-yawn. She looked so put together for that time of day. "Morning.", she greeted you. You stepped aside to let her in.

"Morning. It‘s still so early so I made us two coffees to go.", you replied and led her into your kitchen where you handed her a to-go cup. Gratefully, she took it but her gaze was fixed on you; "Thanks. Uhm…" "Yes?", you prompted her to go on.

She cleared her throat; "You might want to put on something other than your PJ pants." She took a sip of her coffee, but you caught her smiling smugly into her cup before you looked down, only to find that you were still in your plaid flannel pants. "Oh my god. Wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute.", you laughed about yourself and disappeared into your bedroom to change.

While you slipped into a pair of soft cotton pants, your eyes met Alexias in the mirror. You must have forgotten to close the bedroom door. "Stop staring.", you grinned. Your teammate hid another smile in her coffee; "I’m not." "Sure, Alexia. I‘m ready, we can go.", you replied with a smirk, taking your own coffee and your bag. "Finally. We can’t miss the sunrise."

You followed her to her car. It was too early still, so you both were silent for most of the ride. Only the radio was playing quietly. Alexia parked close to a beach just as the first rays of sunlight came up. The beach was completely empty. You both sat down in the cold sand and watched in awe.

"This is beautiful.", you whispered. Alexia smiled to herself; "I told you, you can’t miss this." "Thank you for taking me here." "You’re welcome, really." You looked at Alexia. The morning light painted her in a golden glow, and you couldn’t help but stare. "Maybe there is more than just uni, football and sleep.", you admitted. Alexia nodded; "There is. Trust me."

You closed your eyes letting the sound of the waves wash over you:” Like moments like these. I wish one could collect them into a jar and when one has a bad day or time you could open it and feel the joy from that day again.” Memories of the times you were injured came back to the surface level of your mind.

With a free hand you let the sand rinse through your fingers to distract yourself from those images.  “But if you could go back to this moment all the time.. would you not lose the joy of this moment?”, Alexia asked you carefully. “I’ve not thought about that yet but you’re probably right it would lose what made the moment special in the first place.”

With a serious smile the midfielder confessed: “It would. I like coming here in the morning when no one’s here yet.” “I can see why.”, you told her. Almost shy, Alexia turned her face back to the water: “It’s nice and quiet.” There was something between you that clearly wasn’t there before. Her grin deepened while she added:” Well, usually. When I’m alone with Nala.”  “Oh, trust me I can do quiet too.”, you announced as you pulled out the book of your bag which you were currently reading.

Your teammate shook her head slightly:” You know I was just joking, right? But it’s so cool, you look so at peace right now.” “That’s because I am if there was not a voice interrupting my peace.”, you teased her, in the meantime Narla took refuge in your lap.  Your comment earnt you an eyeroll by your captain: “Sorry.”

Even in her annoyance you had to admit that she looked beautiful as the sun made her skin appear golden. “Wait, you look so pretty in that light.”, you exclaimed before taking a photo of her. A surprised laugh escaped Alexia’s mouth: “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of you because you looked quite happy, so I tried to capture that on camera.”, you stammered.  With a stern look on the midfielder’s face, she urged you: “Give me the camera.”

 “Okay.”, you handed her your camera, it was one of the thing’s you treasured most as it reminded you of the parent you had lost and shared that passion with.  Your teammate seemed satisfied with that object in her hands: “Thanks.”

So, you continued reading your book peacefully, during the reading you somehow managed to steal your captains green cap but she was too immersed in taking pictures of you.

You both enjoyed the silence of the early morning and each others company. But with the time passing, the beach started to fill. With a sigh, you closed your book and looked up to Alexia; "Do you think we should head back? It‘s getting crowded." "Yes, let‘s leave.", Alexia agreed, stood up and brushed the sand off her jeans. You put your book back into your bag anf followed suit; "Alright."

"Come on, Narla!", Alexia called her dog and you three walked back towards her car. You watched the landscape pass on your way home but with each passing minute, you could feel your eyes closing. You didn’t even realize you fell asleep until Alexia stopped her car in front of your building. "We’re already there?", you yawned.

"Yes. But you don’t have to get out yet. I can drive around the block for a little longer.", Alexia suggested. You were taken aback by the thoughtfulness. "I want to stay for a little while longer if that’s okay.", you admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red. Alexia smiled softly and started her car again; "Alright. Go back to sleep then."

Narla cuddled onto your lap and her warmth made you immediately fall asleep again. When you woke up again, you realized that only a few minutes must have passed. The sun was still high up in the sky and you were still driving through your neighborhood.

Once again, Alexia stopped in front of your appartment. You turned towards Alexia; "Thank you for the day. I really enjoyed it." "Me too.", she replied. You leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek; "So, I’ll see you in training tomorrow?" A light blush spread across Alexias face; "Uhm… yes, sure." Smiling, you got out of her car; "Perfect."

Before you could open your front door, you paused on the sidewalk as you realized you were still wearing Alexias green cap. At the same time, Alexia opened her car window; "Hey?" "Yes?", you turned around. She nodded towards your head; "You should keep it. It looks cute on you." "Thanks.", you absentmindedly touched the cap. "Wait.", Alexia called again while getting out of her car and crossing the distance between you two. "Huh?", you asked before her lips were suddenly on your lips.

You stared at her; "Wait, what was that?" "I don’t know.", she answered truthfully, obviously confused herself. You grabbed her by the wrist; "No, do it again please." "You don’t have to tell me twice." A smile appeared on Alexias face. She kissed you again. This time, more patiently but just as hungry.

A loud squeal came from Mapi’s mouth when she spotted you wearing Alexia’s cap right before your team training was about to start: ”Oh my god!” “Mapi, it’s not a big deal.”, the captain reassured the defender who was beaming at your sight. Amused you added: “Honestly, calm down, Mapi.”

“Don’t tell me you’re dating.”, your teammate almost screamed excitedly. “Well, I hate to say it, but we don’t hate each other anymore.”, you winked at her.  Cheerfully Mapi pulled out her smartphone from her pocket:“So that’s a yes! I’ll have to call your sister.”

“About damn time you call her, while you’re at It you should tell her that you would love to go on a date with her Mapi!”, Alexia suggested grinning. Inspired by what she saw the younger player nodded: “You know what? Maybe I will.” “Don’t worry, she’ll say yes.”, you encouraged her. With a cheeky smile she asked:” Like you did to Ale?”

“Yes.”, you replied, placing a kiss on Alexias lips, making her blush in front of all your teammates. But the midfielder didn’t mind, she pulled you even closer, kissing you hungrily like she was starving before.

2023

Without a knock Mapi stormed into your hotelroom giving you each a scolding look:” You two should be asleep now.” “Mapi!”, Alexia frowned at her. The defender ignored her and clicked with her tongue:” Did you got lost in telling you love story again? Don’t worry I can tell that in my best woman speech for your wedding.”

“Who said you’ll be the best woman?”, the midfielder looked challenging at her. Playfully offended the younger player stopped moving:  “I’m not!?”  “Of course, you’re.”, Alexia answered laughing. “Well, I hope so!”

Softly you continued the captain’s sentence:” We know what you did to make us realize that we fell for each other.” Satisfied with that you went on to talk for a couple of minutes before she went to her room with Ingrid.

You secretly even worked on a sonnet for your wedding day, writing all the things you once claimed to hate about Alexia but actually you didn’t because these were parts of her you came to love.

[nevernonline]

✧.* twenty-seven?; ksy

synopsis: you always wanted to be considered a ‘serious’ journalist, but to get the chance at moving up the ranks and getting to produce your own stories, you’re get an idea to do one final story and impress your boss, that’s where inspiration strikes with the one and only soonyoung.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: hoshi x fem! reader. 

genre: strangers2lvrs

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, just fluffy and nice no seggsy time

word count: 8.4k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. hoshi is down bad fast xo.

note: my next little inspired movie writing is the icon that is 27 dresses. except instead of our female lead being the one in the wedding its my fav tiger (hamster) soony. I just love sappy cutie soonyoung so I apologize in advance. also unedited bc im a loser srry. it shouldn't be tew bad bc I tried to take my time lol. ily.

Finding a cozy spot at a table to the left of the bride and groom, you flipped open your notebook and started jotting down pin points on the decor, the flowers, the bride's beautiful flowing silk gown, and the way the groom looked at her with stars in his eyes. 

The first dance song rang around the room gathering all the adorned looks of friends and family watching as another couple took the leap on spending the rest of their lives together. 

A rocks glass was placed in front of your pen and paper as the chair next to her was suddenly filled with the stranger who put it there. 

“Taking notes for your own wedding?” 

“Oh. No, I'm doing a piece for the Daily on their wedding.” 

“Are you y/n l/n by any chance?” 

“I am. You’re familiar with me?” 

“Yeah, just through the bride. She’s my sister. She talks about you nonstop. I’m Soonyoung, I was the one who contacted you.” 

“I see. Nice to meet you. What’s the drink for?” 

“Working hard, I figured you should at least enjoy yourself a little bit.” 

“That’s nice. Thank you.” 

Soonyoung stared at the girl across from him, trying to catch a peak at her notes seeing if she was painting this night in a perfect light.

You caught on and shut the book quietly, giving him a small wink as a shout it would be everything his sister wanted. 

“What’s the drink?” 

“A vodka soda, lemon.” 

“So, you know my drink order? Thought you said you didn’t know who I was?” 

“I saw you at a wedding a few weeks ago, my friend Seungkwan. I noticed your drink, that's all. That’s how I got your contact actually.” 

“Lying on the first meet, a great sign. No wonder you look so familiar to me. You were the best man right? But blonde at the time?” 

“My sister would’ve killed me if I was blonde at her wedding and sorry not lying just felt creepy admitting it. 

“I liked it.” 

Soonyoung laughed remembering the conversation he had with his sister about his hair. 

“So what’s it like being in two weddings in one month, Soonyoung?” 

“Actually I’m going to be in three. Next week my coworker is getting married. Which would make my wedding count twenty-six.” 

“You’ve been to twenty-six weddings?” 

“Yep. After next week anyway. What’s your wedding count?” 

“Ones I’ve covered? Too many to count. Ones I’ve been in? Two I think. Both of my brothers are married. That’s about it.” 

“So you cover weddings but aren’t married?” 

Rolling your eyes at his unfiltered nature, you couldn’t help but feel like his question was out of curiosity and not judgment. The way his eyes searched hers for answers was genuinely adorable. 

“Almost at one point, but he cheated on me and is marrying her now. I didn’t actually become a journalist to cover weddings anyway, it sort of just happened.” 

“I see.” 

“What about you? Being at all those weddings and never getting married?” 

“No. Not even close, I was in love with the same girl for a long time, but she didn’t feel the same way.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

After spending the rest of your night enjoying Soonyoungs company, you bid goodbye to the bride and groom and headed back to your home to get down to working on the article. 

Digging through your black leather tote you realize you forgot to take your journal home with you, leaving it on the white table cloth being distracted by a new friend. 

Realizing you don’t have his number you took it upon yourself to stalk his social media profiles in hope you could find a way to get in contact with him, maybe he was your saving grace in taking your book for safekeeping until he could give it back to you. 

Saying fuck it for now you just began typing away about your night, thanking god or whomever that you backed up your calendar digitally when you get a clever idea to write an article still about weddings, but about the person you met who had been a groomsmen all those times. Searching for any kind of photos and videos of his past times supporting nuptials. 

All you came up with was a couple cheesing photos of him posing in his suits of many colors and types when you get the idea to go back into your own rolodex of photos and writings from weddings you’ve done in the past, noticing him standing near the bride and groom in just a few it was now safe to say he has piqued your interest even more than before. 

You decided to draft an email to your boss begging for the chance to write her an article about the types of bridesmaids and groomsmen who’ve been involved in many years of weddings as a support, if you found one person who had done so many in a short time it wouldn’t be hard to find more right? 

Before getting ready for bed you sat refreshing your email waiting for the go-ahead to investigate Soonyoung further with the excuse that it was simply just for work, it took multiple scrolls to the point where your thumb was starting to hurt from running it over the screen until she replied. 

‘Y/n, feel free to start drafting up the story. If I like it I’ll let you have more creative articles in the future. Please have it on my desk in two weeks.’

When the morning finally arrived, you had to make the rough decision to get out of bed and head to grab a coffee from the shop in your apartment lobby. Normally you’d be cuddled on your couch with your cat, spending your Saturday morning reading and watching reruns of your favorite reality shows, but much to your surprise the coffee stash you usually have stocked has dried up. 

Exiting the silver doors of the elevator a call came from the front desk attendant and you were met by a brown paper bag tied with a bow, the outside scribbled on with some crayons of silly faces and drawings of cartoon tigers, stickers of hello kitty, and a pink note taped to the handle. 

“Miss. Y/l/n! Some boy dropped this for you last night.” 

“Oh? Thank you, Max.” 

Ripping open the small note in line for your morning brew, it instantly puts a smile on your face.

‘Hi, I noticed you left this on the table. Hope it’s not weird. I dropped it off for you. Your address was inside. At least I can stalk you now. - Soonyoung (wedding guy lol)” 

Inside the bag was your planner and a few random pieces of candy thrown around. A small bookmark was placed on a page and written underneath was a date for next Thursday and the number of your new favorite subject marked ‘single seeking wedding date.’ 

After grabbing the paper cup from the barista behind the counter you whip your phone out and dial the number written inside your prized possession. 

“Hello, is this the single seeking a date?” 

“Hey, it is. Is this the cute girl who’s planner I found?” 

“I think so? I don’t know any other cute girls who like going to weddings.” 

“Are you available for drinks and a little pre-wedding party?” 

“When?” 

“Tonight.” 

“Tonight? Wow. Eager to see me again I see.” 

“I am. And I’m being bold right now which is new for me, so please don’t make me cry.” 

“Aw. But I’m sure you’re so pretty when you cry.” 

“I’m always pretty, y/n. So?” 

“Sure. Why not?” 

You heard Soonyoung gasp over the phone and drop something loud. 

“Really?” 

“Want me to take it back?” 

“No. Cool. I will.. pick you up at 6:30? We can get some drinks before and then it’s just like a casual party, but my friends are kind of fancy so maybe like nice cocktail attire. I’m sure you know.” 

“Okay. I’m sure you remember where to find me? After all, you did confess to being a stalker.” 

“Oh my god. I was kidding, don’t take me seriously. I’ll see you then.” 

“See you, Soony. Ok now I’m corny. That wasn’t meant to be a pun. Bye.” 

Hearing the boy's laughter over the phone almost gave you butterflies. 

“You’re funny. Bye.” 

Spending the rest of your normally relaxing afternoon getting ready to slyly interrogate your new friend, you decided to not go out of your way to look overly special after all you weren’t even sure this quote on quote date was anything romantic or just a way of initiating a friendship. 

Just before you leave your front door you sat to think if it was appropriate to bring along the same journal that was delivered to you the same morning, but made the conscious decision to leave it behind and not make this first night getting to know each other about you digging into his life for your own gain. 

The ride down the elevator had you inspecting yourself in its small safety mirror, fixing the very last strand of hair that felt out of place on your head, not paying any attention to the people jumping off and on from their various floors. 

When you finally stepped out into the marble covered lobby, you immediately spotted Soonyoung draped over the side of the couch holding his legs close, almost like a nervous child looking around the room and pouting because he can’t find his toy. 

When he finally locked eyes with you his childlike demeanor changed immediately into a spunky puppy, jumping up from his seat and dusting off crumbs on his pants that weren’t even there in the first place, maybe to wipe his hands from their small sweat they were undergoing. 

“Hi, y/n. You look very nice” 

“Really? So do you. Where are we headed?” 

“There’s a cool poet themed bar just like two blocks from here, I thought you’d enjoy it since you’re a writer and everything.” 

You looked at Soonyoung with wide eyes, it was a sign of how considerate he was yet again, just like the thought he put into bringing you, your planner and decorating the bag. 

His sharp brown eyes sparkled under the street lights, almost like they were reflecting stars, his baggy khaki pants with matching jacket slung perfectly over his frame, he was cute. You could admit it to yourself that something about him was magnetic and you already wanted more. 

“Y/n? Is that not your thing? I’m sorry we can do something else, I shouldn’t of assumed all writers like poetr-“ 

“Oh I’m sorry, I was distracted. Has anyone told you that you have insanely cute eyes? But yes, poetry’s cool. I’m more of a classic novel girl, but it sounds fun. Stop second guessing yourself. You’re good.” 

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you brought it up to pat him gently on his shoulder, a confirmation that you were having a good time and trying to ease his awkwardness. 

“Yeah, people have once or twice.” 

“Good. They really are cute.” 

The pink of Soonyoung’s cheeks grew into a deep red as he led you into the bar. The walls were covered in decaying pieces of paper written with words people had to get out for comfort. The smell was like the oldest library on earth, with a tinge of vanilla and vodka ringing through. 

Your brain took a moment to be present and remember all of the bad dates of your past. Maybe this wasn’t a date of your future, but if it was, he had already exceeded your expectations. 

As the waitress took your order, one Body Electric for your new friend a legit inspiration from Walt

Whitman to your choice which was a play on a Sylvia Plath poem. 

“Are you a lightweight?” 

You looked at Soonyojng not even halfway through his drink, feeling the ease and warmth of his body next

to you. 

“How can you tell?” 

“You relaxed for the first time tonight.” 

“I was nervous to hangout with you. I’m sorry. You’re just cool and pretty and I don’t know I feel like you’re way smarter than me and I’m intimidated by that sober” 

“I’m sure that’s not true. But if it’s any help I was nervous too.” 

“Really? So I have game?” 

“No. But you’re so cute I’d die if I hurt your feelings.” 

“So you’re a lightweight too?” 

“What? No way. Just honest to a fault.” 

Soonyoung smiled into the rim of his glass before taking his final sip and prompting you to finish your drink quickly, which you happily obliged. 

“Okay, on the way there.. I have to admit something. The party we’re going to is for the girl I liked before she got with this guy… it’s like unrequited love in a way.” 

“The girl you said you don’t love anymore?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I just wanted to see you again so I thought it was a good idea.” 

“I’m down. I’m not sure what, but I’m down.” 

“Cool.” 

“Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Or? I feel like it would be weird to say we were on a first date.” 

“Is this a date?” 

“Is it not?” 

“It was meant to be and it definitely is now.” 

“So pretend girlfriend, Soony?” 

“Maybe not an official girlfriend, how about… fourth date?” 

“Okay, have we had sex?” 

Soonyoung choked on his own spit which caused the two of you to end up in a fit of laughter on the street as you reached your next destination. 

“Obviously.” 

“That’s fair. I’ll tell everyone you were good.” 

“I think I love you.” 

“Shut up.” 

After spending the night waltzing around and parading your further long relationship with your fake new boyfriend to his friends in hopes to prove his fondness for his newest engaged friend has gone away even slightly. 

While maybe you were pretending to be on a date with Soonyoung, your head was spinning. If this was a fake date it was better than any date you had previously. Stepping outside to take a break from the party inside you pulled out your phone, jotting down notes and small nuggets of information you learned about Soonyoung’s past wedding experiences. 

“Taking notes on me? What are you a PI?” 

Behind you, you hadn’t realized the door you snuck out of opened and the boy had followed behind, curious if you were okay. 

“Yeah, you’re under investigation for being overly nice. Sorry.” 

“What do they say? I didn’t read them, just saw my name.” 

“Just some antidotes I want to remember. Nothing crazy.” 

“Do you want to leave? I’m starting to reach my alcohol limit and I would rather die than have you see my drunk alter ego the first time we hung out.” 

“Yeah, come on, let's go.” 

Going back through the back exit, you tripped behind Soonyoung’s tall frame grabbing onto his shoulder and giggling before he stood in the way of you hitting the ground. 

His lips were curled into a goofy smile. 

“I swear to god if you say something about me falling for you, you will get punched.” 

“How did you know?” 

“That fucking goofy smile you have on your face right now, I could just see it brewing in that head of yours.” 

“Okay, I don’t like that you’ve already figured me out. Let’s go, klutz.” 

Before you and Soonyoung could exit back into the fresh air, a familiar face appeared in front of you. Your ex boyfriend. Something about this night clicked for you, it was his party, there were so many people around and the only person from the wedding party you met was the bride. But taking a breath in and looking around the room, you realized how stupid you were to not see all the signs that this party was for him. 

“Y/n? Hoshi? Hey, how have you guys been?” 

Soonyoung still holding his arm around your shoulder gave a small back and fourth look between you and the tall boy who knew your name. 

“You guys know each other?” 

“Yep. Hi, Jihoon.” 

“I didn’t know you knew Hoshi either?” 

“Oh well we just started dating, he invited me to come hangout.” 

“Dating? Wow. I didn’t know you had time for people outside of work anymore.” 

“Jihoon, if you don’t mind we have to go now. Thank you for the open bar and this amazing time chatting, congratulations on marrying your hookup. Goodnight.” 

The start of your walk with Soonyoung was pure silence, there was an obvious elephant in the room and you could tell he was just itching to talk about it, so you decided to prompt him. 

“You’re curious aren’t you.” 

“Yes. But I don’t want to ask you to talk about it because we’re having fun. So I figured I’d try to ignore it.” 

“It’s fine. I’m curious too actually, it’s kind of funny that the girl you liked was hooking up with my boyfriend and now they’re married. And by funny I mean actually funny and we just spent the whole night not knowing that.” 

“I didn’t even know that Jihoon had a girlfriend when they first met, he never said anything about it.” 

“I don’t blame him actually, I do work way too much. I just wished he’d broken up with me instead of cheating on me for a month.” 

“When did you guys break up?” 

“Last December.” 

“Oh.” 

“It was more than a month wasn’t it?” 

“I think so.” 

“Cool, cool, cool.” 

“That’s fucked up y/n, I’m so sorry.” 

“That’s okay, we weren’t supposed to be together and his new girlfriend or future wife whatever seems like she’s really nice.” 

“She is, but she’s too nice. She does everything he wants, maybe he couldn’t handle your independence.” 

“Soony. You caught on that I’m a bad bitch?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“No. But, if I did I’d be obsessed with her and hate her at the same time.” 

“That’s exactly how I feel.” 

You punched his side, before stopping and realizing you had come up to your front door. Not even worried about the way your feet were aching to get out of your heeled shoes. 

“This is me.” 

“I know. I’ve been here like three times now in less than twenty-four hours. I’m starting to believe you actually think I’m stupid.” 

“Not stupid. Just silly. I’ll see you again right?” 

“I mean I did put days on your calendar to schedule out time for me.” 

“You littl-“ 

Suddenly you were cut off by Soonyoung’s hand covering your mouth to put a stop to you cursing him out. 

“I won’t take no for an answer.” 

Sinking your teeth into his hand he retreated from his momentary confidence quickly, looking at the proud smile you were sporting, pointing your well manicured finger in his face. 

“Don’t tell women to shut up, Soony.” 

“I never said shut up, you were going to call me a mean name and I’m sensitive. Go back to calling me cute.” 

“Maybe. Next time.” 

You went in for a one armed hug when all of the sudden Soonyoung came in with both arms, clinking your heads together. 

“Very smooth.” 

He liked the fact that you constantly teased him while making light of situations, regaining his confidence he pulled you into his embrace enveloping both arms around your shoulders, placing a small kiss on the part of your forehead that crashed into his. 

“I’ll see you next week.” 

“What’s next week?” 

“The wedding, check your planner. Well actually I’ll see you in two nights because we have to shop or go through your closet so we can match! Bye, y/nie.” 

Caught off guard by the kiss on your head and watching him hail a cab like it was nothing, you couldn’t help but smile on your way into your building, met by Max at the front desk beaming as wide as you and giving you a wink.  Knowing that he saw the cute and awkward interaction you shared with the hyper hamster outside. 

The two days in between you and Soonyoung’s first official interaction, you felt yourself looking forward to seeing him again and being in his presence like your own personal serotonin boost. 

The insane fact that your ex was marrying the girl he cheated on was enough, but the girl being Soonyoung’s painful crush? Especially when you felt he was becoming yours was beyond insane. 

You made up separate drafts of your article about the people who make weddings shine, from the families, the bridal parties. the insane bachelor and bachelorette nights, and mainly Soonyoung’s love for love. 

The two works of nonfiction were from different perspectives, one being your head and one being your heart. You couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to present a piece basically claiming how amazing you found Soonyoung for the whole world to see when you’re not even sure if he’d ever consider you to be more than a silly writer girl y/n, his friend or fake girlfriend. Your other was from the space of practicality, a genuine love letter to your career and the person who inspired this story, but also digging deep into the ideals of how frantic and selfish the wedding industry can be and what it means for an unmarried friend to take in burdens constantly for their loved ones when it takes a toll on their own heart. 

The biggest debate in your body was the fact the real article, the one you wanted to write, was at the fault of someone who had only in the short space of two days made you feel again, but it was honest and genuine. 

You knew Soonyoung had to have some pain working and being a part of a wedding for the girl he saw himself marrying. 

Luckily you have another few days to decide which way it’ll go. 

Sitting on the thought of what one you should put out, you were awoken out of your thought bubble to a string of buzzes from your cell phone sitting face down on your desk. 

None other than the boy that had been living in your head for the past 48 hours. 

Soonyoung’s texts were multiple lines of photos and silly messages asking you which outfit he should wear that could match any of the dresses you had hanging in your closet for the wedding. 

One of the options was a beige suit, simple in theory but something about the way he styled it with a funky sage green t-shirt and matching sneakers made you smile. Even if you didn’t have anything to match this outfit you would make an effort to go out and spruce up your wardrobe to be on his level. 

After quickly responding that it was your choice, he retorted back in his true fashion you’d have to send him your options too or he’d come over to help you. 

In a desperate subconscious way you agreed to his antics. 

Now nearly an hour later a call came from the front desk that a visitor had arrived asking for consent he could come upstairs which you happily agreed assuming it was none other than Soonyoung himself. The person on the opposite side of the door was not the sharp eyed boy you’d expected, but Jihoon. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I wanted to see you after the other night, I just wanted to say hey.” 

“Okay? Then text me. Don’t come over unannounced, I have a friend I’m expecting.” 

“You wouldn’t have responded.” 

“That’s true.” 

Standing with your arms crossed in your doorway not letting Jihoon into the now redecorated apartment you once had let him live in, you weren’t budging on your gut feeling to let him in and talk. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Like I said. I’m expecting a friend. So.. no.” 

“Who? Hoshi? You guys aren’t seriously together? He’s not your type, too goofy.” 

“Isn’t he your friend?” 

“He’s Nana’s friend, but he’s okay. I’m just saying it's not your style.” 

Nana? A stupid nickname for his fiance who’s name was simply Anna. So as you rolled your eyes and shut your apartment door behind you as you stepped into the hallway as a clear defining factor he was not welcome you stood far apart from him as a line in the sand. 

“He’s not goofy. He’s sweet and yes he’s on his way so maybe you should leave before saying anything else so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.” 

Jihoon wavered a bit, looking towards the elevator door at the end of the hall as if like a movie Soonyoung would walk out of the elevator at the mention he was on his way over. 

“Maybe take the stairs. I’ll see you at your wedding with my date.” 

Rushing in and slamming the door in his face, you sink to the floor in a moment of pure exhaustion over interacting with someone like your ex. 

Why wasn’t Soonyoung right for you? Why did you not want that to be true? And why were you so dead set on proving him absolutely wrong? 

In your rush of emotions another knock came to your door. Without looking through the peephole you swung it open rapidly. 

“Look I told you to g- oh, Soonyoung! Thank god.” 

Your body made a move before your head could even catch up as you ended up hugging him tightly, rushing him inside as if Jihoon didn’t get the message and was watching in from a hidden spot in the corridor. 

“Y/N are you okay?” 

“Yes. Sorry, someone just came over that I did not want to see. Welcome.” 

You watched as his eyes took in the view of your pink and green splattered apartment, things like funky vases full of wildflowers, plant tendrils floating down from shelves tucked between books of various sizes and ages, a small nook with sleeping white and black cat hid inside snuggling into his stuffed toy. 

“I love it here.” 

“Really? I redecorated recently, it was cold before. I love it now.” 

“Also it smells amazing, do you bake? It smells like cookies and coffee. Wow.” 

“I do not bake, but I do have candles that give the illusion. What’s in the bag?” 

Soonyoung set a small black duffle bag down on the counter and began pulling the contents out one by one, showing them off like a beauty guru. 

Wine, five small bags of potato chips, beer Incase you didn’t like wine and he was unsure, a slice of delicious looking chocolate cake, and a container marked with your name of his moms homemade soup. 

“Why did you do this?” 

“I thought we would have fun while picking out matching outfits. Will you let me see your closet? Please, please, please. I’m so curious.” 

“It’s not that impressive at all.” 

“If your apartment looks like this then I have only the highest expectations for you.” 

Smiling, you jokingly made a come on motion with your fingers and led him into your spare bedroom that now existed as a half home office and half closet. 

His eyes took in even more of your fun design work, the racks of records, pictures of you and your friends, and one of the things that made him feel like he could fall in love with you, your rack full of limited edition shoes and bags. 

“Not impressive? You have some of the coolest shit I’ve ever seen in here?” 

“I’m just a girl with a cat and a lot of time on my hands. Since being single I’ve just spent it on shopping and ordering take out.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking what were you and Jihoon like together? You guys seem really opposite to me.” 

There it was again, someone not right for you. Was it just in your head that you think maybe you’re the problem of why this comment is being made? 

“Uh, we were okay at first. We met in college about three weeks before graduation and spent so much time together. But if I think about it, we just hung out in his dorm where I watched him play video games and watch anime even though I was not interested. I kind of wish I was more outspoken about it. I missed a bunch of things my friends had done wasting away on his futon drinking shitty cheap alcohol and waiting on him hand and foot and whatever else.” 

“Really? So you guys dated for a long time I guess. Did it change a lot once you got out?” 

“Not really. A lot of people knew we were ‘dating’ but in the time that we did, we probably went on one or two actual dates.” 

“That makes me sad actually.” 

“Why? I made the choice to do all those things. At least I don’t have an ugly poster of John Lennon on my wall just to show I loved him.” 

Soonyoung was set off by that, laughing and imagining you having a photo of a musician on your wall to impress your boyfriend. 

“What’s so funny? Haven’t you done anything embarrassing to impress a girl?” 

“Definitely. Too many to choose from actually.” 

“At least you're charming, I came off as obsessive and stupidly in love. Not a good look for me.” 

“Caring too much is never a bad thing when you think you’re in love and you’re charming too.” 

“Why thank you good sir.” 

“And you’re weird. Which personally is a green flag for me. I didn’t expect that from you actually.” 

“Is that a compliment though, really?” 

“For me? Yes. I don’t like normal people well, not normal people I guess, just people who have no personality or something I can learn from. I want someone as a friend or whatever else to challenge me a little, it’s healthy.” 

“I think that’s really cool of you, I agree. I like people that are willing to try new stuff or get me out of my comfort zone.” 

“Was showing me your office a way of me getting you out of your comfort zone?” 

“Sort of. This is kind of like my safe haven.” 

Soonyoung just gave you a wide toothed smile, beaming from ear to eat that you admitted he was even just slightly somewhat of your type. 

As the night went on and on the boy that has now broken down a couple of your walls, not quickly but brick by brick was sitting comfortably next to your cat curled up in the same manor helping you pick out something that would go with his two outfits, one for the wedding itself and one for the rehearsal dinner which he promised you that you’d only eat and leave to have more fun just out of respect for the couple and his friend Anna. 

Now each of you taking the bottle of wine he brought slowly, sitting on your floor surrounded by shoes and loose pairs of pants, giggling over nothing he stared in your eyes almost like you could read that he had another interrogating question. 

“Was Jihoon the one at the door before?” 

“How did you kno–” 

“I can’t remember you mentioning anybody that would come over unannounced and make you look as upset as you did.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you know why he was here?” 

“He just gave me some stupid antidote that he wanted to see me after the other day, I didn’t ask further. When I told him I had a friend coming over he just knew it was you for some reason and then told me we couldn’t be dating seriously because you’re not my type? As if he’d know? It was weird all around.” 

“Do you still have feelings for him?” 

“No. I realized once we broke up and now after knowing he was cheating on me more than a few nights that it was an amazing decision. When we first ended it I just kicked him out and ghosted all his texts, he used to update me on his life every now and again, the last time we talked for real, before today he called me crying that his Grandmother was sick, so we just had a brief talk and it ended for real there. I genuinely never thought I’d see him again.” 

“Also, am I your type?” 

Ss wine dribbled down your chin you were once again surprised by Soonyoung’s random fit of confidence. 

“Yeah. You’re nice and I love how annoying you are. I think you get under my skin in the best way.” 

“Wow. I’m surprised you admitted it.” 

“What can I say, wine drunk y/n is honest.” 

“And what about my physical type? Sexy, cool, handsome, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?” 

Taking a note from his book you swung your closest arm to him, you clipped your fingers over his mouth and shut him up. 

Much to your surprise he took a note from your book and instead of biting your hand he stuck his tongue through his lips and licked your fingers which caused you to lunge towards him further, jokingly pissed he did just so. 

As you were fighting for comedic relief you sat suddenly face to face with him holding onto your wrists to resist more thrash fighting. 

The two of you stared at each other filling the room with intense tension of your lips being so close once again. 

“If I knew you wouldn’t be mad at me I’d kiss you right now.” 

“Soonyoung, you’re so stupid. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“So I can kiss you?” 

“Nope.” 

Soonyoung pushed his bottom lip out from his top, replacing his cute puppy face with a pouty one. 

You decided to quickly dive in and pace a peck on his protruding bottom lip. 

He immediately let you go and erupted into a fit of giggles like a little kid, as you tried to sneak away quickly he grabbed onto the arm of your sweatshirt which you quickly unzipped and slipped out of, running through the door of your office and into the rest of the house as he chased behind. 

“You have to know I’m going to catch you for that, that was so mean y/n.” 

As you were winning the fight, getting away from the boy chasing you around, you suddenly tripped up and felt his hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around with secret strength. 

Standing face to face with him now, your stubbed toe throbbing through your fuzzy socks, you both were holding in a whole lot of laughter. 

Soonyoung’s hand slipped behind your head and pulled you in for a much more romantic type of kiss than you gave him before. The two of you touched lips softly, as your smiles were still prominent on your faces. 

Before anything could escalate further your phone began to ring again and your boss's name was plastered over the front, which you answered with panting breaths still in a haze from kissing the boy you made you feel young again. 

“y/n? Hi, would you be able to send over a draft of your article you begged me for? We were looking for something to print for tomorrow if you’re interested? I’ll have someone expedite the editing process tonight.” 

“Oh, shit. Yeah of course, I’ll rush and email it to you now.” 

“Thank you, congratulations y/n.” 

“Thank you. Bye.” 

Oh my god, Soony, stay here. I have to email my boss quickly about my article, she wants to print it for tomorrow's paper. I’ll be right back.” 

“What? Congratulations. But don't worry, I’m not leaving.” 

“Good, sorry, be right back.” 

Rushing back into your office you flipped open your computer and sent your final article draft, choosing the one that your gut felt would be better for your personal life at the moment, especially after the kiss you just shared with the boy it was about. 

Typing a quick message along with your attachment you just said a big thank you and clicked send before grabbing the half drank bottle off the floor and ran back to Soonyoung munching on a bag of chips waiting for you. 

“Shall we celebrate?” 

“What are we celebrating?” 

“Me, idiot. I’ve been trying to get a real article published ever since I got the job doing weddings. I love weddings, but always being so happy and cheerful and not getting a chance to stretch my creative juices is frustrating.” 

“Can we also celebrate kissing? That seems more fun.” 

“Shut up, asshole.” 

Taking a swig from the bottle, you passed it over to your male counterpart and watching him take an equally large drink matching your energy. 

You and Soonyoung spent the rest of the night talking about how tomorrow will go, where will you and he be sitting, will Jihoon be giving you side eyes or talking shit with some of the other guests. How nice of a chance it’ll be to experience a wedding simply just enjoying with someone on your side and not for work. 

After sitting in bed and still thinking about your kiss with Soonyoung many hours later, you saw a text from your boss letting you know she loved the article and to watch out for it in the morning. 

When that finally rolled around, you woke up to a lot of messages congratulating you and your new found success, many people from college, your parents, but the one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found in those texts. 

Putting the praise aside for a moment, you slipped back out of your bed to jump into the shower and start getting ready for your dinner celebrating the devil that was your ex. 

When you stepped out and went to grab onto your device once again you saw a text from the one person you were most excited to read, but it was less than exciting. Soonyoung expressed how upset the article made him and accused you of using him to further your career, something Jihoon supposedly warned him of the night of his pre-wedding party and he chose to ignore. 

Confused why he would be so upset about your praise for him, you ran to your front door and ripped open the pages of the paper only to find the article that you sent was a mistake, it was the one shitting on weddings, basically claiming Soonyoung himself was an unmarried loser, not in those words but you could see why it came across that way. Some of the simple moments of praise for his hard work were cut out in the editing room, only leaving the small bits of gossip and harsh criticisms sprinkled in between. 

Rushing back inside as your stomach sank to the floor you tried his number three times before getting no answer. Which made you frantically dial your boss’s number and interrogate her on why parts of your article were cut out, she simply answered that fluff doesn’t sell and she was proud of you. 

Soonyoung not responding had let you in on the fact that he wasn’t going to be seeing you today or maybe even seeing anybody for that matter, he was embarrassed and rightfully so. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Continuing your quest on trying to reach him, you decided to still get ready for your night out, maybe not in the intense matching outfit way you wanted to last night, but just something where you could sneak into Jihoon’s wedding party and slide Soonyoung the real article you wanted him to read. 

Running down the street to the venue with no accurate directions in sight, you saw your ex standing on a corner, smoking a brown wrapped joint in his suit. 

“Jihoon. Jihoon.” 

“What? Back to grovel for a favor?” 

“Yes, please, just give this to Soonyoung for me. Please, I’ve never asked you for a favor like this, just once do something for me.” 

“You’re really serious about him?” 

“I am.” 

“So you didn’t mean to slam him in the article like you did?” 

“No. My boss cut out the good parts of the article, this was the one I meant to send. Just for me. I want you to be happy, Jihoon, I do. I want it for myself too, just please give it to him. Make sure he reads it.” 

“Okay.” 

“I know we haven’t had the best past and I know I'm coming here askin- Wait? Okay? Really?” 

“Yeah. I can tell this means a lot to you and the reason I came over today was just to formally invite you to the wedding. You’re a big part of my life and now Soonyoung’s, well maybe, besides the point. My fiance is one of his best friends, she liked you too, that was the only reason.” 

“Oh. Well I don’t think I’ll make it.” 

“How about you come on official business and give this to him yourself?” 

“No. I couldn’t do that. It’s your day not mine.” 

“We both deserve a big love, y/n.” 

Taking back your enveloped letter, you couldn’t help but be impressed by how mature Anna had made Jihoon become and you knew he was right. Sometimes love just falls in your lap and you can’t do anything about it. 

Ashing out his joint, he handed you the other half as an olive branch to celebrate old times and bid you goodbye until tomorrow. 

Before going back inside, he turned to you with one final wish. 

“You better look damn good tomorrow too, no suits. Wear something nice to confess your feelings, otherwise you’ll look like a dumbass.” 

“Got it.” 

Catching your breath and shoving the letter and paraphernalia back into your purse, you decided to take Jihoon’s advice. To look amazing, you stumbled upon a shop called ‘All's Well that Ends Well.’ situation just a block down from the poetry inspired bar Soonyoung took you to just a few days before. 

Stepping inside the store, the first thing you saw was a navy blue dress, the halter neckline and the silk straight flowing down to the floor, you knew it was meant for you. Especially because it would match the light pink suit Soonyoung was meant to be sporting with you by his side. The easiest shopping experience of your life. 

As the sales associate packed your order up and sealed it with a light pink bow, you knew it was a sign or something of the sort. 

With less than twenty-four hours of doing the most insane thing of your life, confessing to a man who essentially hated you after you had been kissing just hours before, you stayed up all night, using the weed that Jihoon gave you to stay focused on the task at hand, you almost considered cutting of your hair to enter a new era of your life, but only girls who were going through something would consider that and you attempted to tell yourself you were calm. 

When the morning sun rang around you finished writing a letter to match the one already placed in the envelope to accompany your sorry. You even decorated the outside with stickers of tigers and spongebob characters just to make Soonyoung smile. 

Sliding into your navy blue dress and silver heels, your hair was down and curled into perfect waves. You kissed your cat on the head and made your way over to the venue by foot, just to give yourself a little fresh air and piece of mind, hoping to slip in early enough so that you’d be seated before he even knew you came. 

Slipping into a space near the back of the room on Jihoon’s side, you opened your phone to an encouraging text from him telling you that you’ve got this and he’s excited to hear more about it later, plus reminding you to have fun and enjoy yourself. 

As the progression started you watched along with the other wedding goers, catching glimpses of Jihoon’s smiling family, which made your heart feel warm. 

As the wedding part waltz down the aisle in their pastel pink suits and rosy toned dresses, you saw a now blonde again head appear on the arm of a girl who looked a lot like Anna, so it was fair to assume it was her sister. 

Soonyoung didn’t glance your way, but something about the change in his demeanor made you aware he knew you had come. 

“Everyone please rise for the bride.” 

Anna walked out with her father on her arm, floating across the room like an angel in white. Her dress was adorned with small beaded flowers from the tips of her fingers down to the vail over her blonde hair. 

She was truly beautiful, you couldn’t help but feel like a peasant in the room with this woman who both of the men you had either once had feelings for or now did once loved. 

The whole ceremony was beautiful, but you missed a lot of it as you stared Soonyoung’s way trying to catch his eyes, but he never met yours. He was too busy enjoying the fact that his friends were getting married and the fact you had upset him. 

When the ceremony ended you followed the other guests to the front of the church, holding your envelope in your hand and greeting the bride and groom, Anna and Jihoon beamed at you before she pointed her finger to a room off the side of the front door, some sort of administration office where Soonyoung would be waiting for you. Which also told you Jihoon had filled her in on your little plan. 

You cracked open the old wooden door, trying to be subtle but the rotting wood creaked under the old floor boards making your entrance more known than you would’ve liked. 

Soonyoung was seated in a red leather chair to the side of the desk, his now blonde hair meeting your eyes before his face. Not giving in to turn around and look at you. 

“Soonyoung? I know you probably don’t want to speak to me. But, this was the real article. It was never meant to be that way. I’m sorry.” 

You placed the letter in front of him on the desk and moved to turn back to the door before you heard his voice. 

“So you didn’t mean all those mean things you wrote about me? That I was a desperate groomsman waiting for his shot to have a day for himself?” 

“No.” 

“You didn’t mean to say that my ostentatious nature was cringe worthy?” 

“Not in that way no, my boss cut out all the good things I said about you. She put it in her own words for dramatic effect. I quit this morning.” 

“You quit? Why?” 

“I wanted to try to make this right in the best way I could, she wouldn’t reprint the article how I wrote it and told me that if I didn’t like her style I should get a job somewhere else. So I quit.” 

Soonyoung just nodded, he couldn’t imagine why you would give up a golden opportunity just to prove your boss wrong or right for that matter all because of him. The only way he could make sense of what you were saying is that you were truly sorry and you cared about him. 

He made a bold move and threw the letter in the trash can to the side of the old oak desk and got out of his chair to hug you. 

“You’re not going to read it.” 

Speaking into his shoulder, you got a calming exhale of his cologne. 

“I don’t need to. I know you're telling me the truth, you said it yourself you don’t lie when you drink wine, and I can smell it on your breath.” 

Slipping your hands up from their place around his neck into his hair you giggled slightly, looking at the now dyed blonde locks of hair. 

“You dyed it back?” 

“You said you liked it. I thought you’d be my date and I had the appointment so I didn’t want to cancel.” 

“You weren’t hoping I’d show up here?” 

“I knew you would. I saw you talking to Jihoon outside last night through the window. I wasn’t sure exactly because you did walk away and he never told me what happened. But, when I saw you today sitting in the crowd. I knew my inkling was right.” 

“Did the cohesive outfit impress you? I missed one night, but I hope I made up for it today.” 

Soonyoung pushed you away slightly by your shoulders and made you do a spin for him. 

“You look beautiful.” 

“You’re such a dork.” 

Soonyoung playfully swung you around in the office covered in photos of church go-ers and crosses, bringing you into his chest tightly. 

“So, what did you write in that article? That I was devilishly handsome and cool?” 

“Nope. Just that you were a bad kisser.” 

“Seems like you need a reminder.” 

“Maybe.” 

As your lips met Soonyoungs once again your heart sank into your stomach and was beating rapidly. You just fit and he never once doubted your heart. 

“What do you say? Should we go outside and dance?” 

“Can you even dance?” 

“Y/n? Can I even dance? What do you even think I do for a living?” 

“Oh. I’m such an idiot. Anna works at a talent agency. Got it.” 

“Come on, silly. Before our audience outside gets bigger.” 

When you exited the office back into the group of people outside, for some reason Jihoon started a cheer alongside his new wife. 

Soon you and Soonyoung were dancing the night away and drinking a little too much than your stomachs could handle. 

When you finally got a moment of dizzy drunkenness alone, he had you sitting on a bench where he knelt to the ground. Your mouth got the better of you once again. 

“Oh my god you're not proposing already are you I mean I know I’m amaz-” 

“Y/n shut up, I’m tying my shoe.” 

“Cool, cool. Got it.” 

“But the next wedding I attend hopefully I’ll be the groom.” 

With a wink Soonyoung sat back at your side as you watched the stars together, making a mental note that the next wedding would belong to the both of you.

taglist: @sahazzy

[sunny44]

Unveiling the Truth

(Ruin it part.2)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

After that night Max and I never talked about it again. He went on pretending that nothing had happened and so did I but the fact that I was part of his betrayal is what haunts me every day.

Ok I don't like Kelly but I did something I wouldn't want to be done to me so I feel bad.

We were at the last race of the year and it was a weekend she was here which didn't help my guilt at all.

"Are you okay?" Pierre asks slipping his arm around my shoulders giving me a hug.

"Not much."

"Do you want to talk?"

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He agrees and I pull him into a corner. "Max and I had sex."

"WHAT?" He screams and I cover his mouth with my hand. "What?"

"That's exactly what you heard."

"How?"

"Do you really want me to explain how?"

"Ew that's not what I meant. I mean how did it happen?"

"It was after the third title celebration party, I took him back to the hotel and we fucked in my room."

"My God I've been trying to get you into bed for years and you never wanted to."

"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course, that lucky bastard."

"Pierre I'm serious, stop thinking about me naked on top of you and concentrate."

"Now that you've said that I won't be able to concentrate."

"Forget it." I walk away annoyed and he comes right behind me but Max sees us and I know he's imagining that we did the same thing he and I did at the hotel.

...

I was walking past Redbull at night with the paddock already empty when one of the engineers asked me to go into the garage and when I did he directed me to Max's drivers room where he was inside.

"What is it?"

"May I ask what you were doing with Pierre in the corner?"

"And why does that interest you?"

"Just answer the damn question." He says irritated.

"We were talking."

"The same way you and I talked that night?"

"Where's your girlfriend anyway?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter since I know she's here this weekend."

"Forget Kelly okay? Can we talk about us?"

"There is no us, that was a mistake and you shouldn't be so calm about the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend and that I helped you do it."

"I'm only calm because I don't feel the same way about her as I do about you." At this I fell silent. "She doesn't make me feel angry and want to grab you and kiss you at the same time, she doesn't make me feel good after a bad race even if I only see you in those 5 minutes of interview and she doesn't understand me like you understand do."

"Max..."

"Just say you don't feel the same way about me and I’ll pretend the best night of my life never happened and leave you alone.”

"I don't know." He takes his hands away from my face. "I never thought of you as anything other than the guy I keep picking on."

"And I'll never be anything else to you?"

"Not until you sort out your situation with her." He sighs. "I won't allow myself to feel anything for you or try to have anything with you while you're committed."

"And after that?"

"After that we're going to have to talk, because like it or not you cheated on her and as much as I was the bitch who helped you do it and that I deserve it to happen to me too, I don't want to be the next on your list."

"You're never going to be just anyone on my list, you're not even on the list, you're completely superior to anyone I've ever been involved with in my life."

"Don't say that if you don’t really mean it."

"I was serious about everything I just said."

"Okay then go find me when you sort yourself out."

...

It had been a month since our conversation and Max hadn't said anything else so I understood that he had moved on with Kelly.

Charles and Pierre had invited me to go on a trip together and as I had nothing better to do I decided to go along.

I packed all my things and my cell phone started ringing and I saw that Pierre was calling so I didn't even answer it, I just locked my apartment and went down the elevator with my things, to my surprise when I got downstairs Max was with them and smiled when he saw me.

"I didn't know you were going."

"Yeah, last minute plans."

"We're going by jet." Pierre says kissing my forehead and hugging me from the side.

"What about our tickets?"

"They don't exist, I lied because I knew that if you knew max would be along you would have given up on going."

"Good that you know me." I say putting my bag in the trunk of the car and getting in the back seat.

The walk to the runway was complete silence on my part, I was annoyed that he had ignored me all this time and now he showed up here on a trip he knew I would be on.

The boys were excited and got on the plane before me and Max who grabbed my arm as soon as the two had left my sight.

"Can you let me go?"

"Can you stop being rude to me?"

"And why should I? It wasn't enough that you ignored me and went on this trip together to annoy me and now what? Kelly is going to show up there too."

"No because we broke up."

"What?"

"I broke up with her like I told you I would and I only ignored you because I was helping her moving her stuff out of my apartment. I had to hire a moving truck to take P's stuff to her place too.”

"You could have texted you saying that."

"I know and I'm sorry, it wasn't a quiet break up and I just needed time.”

"It's okay." He let go of my arm. "Let's go before they notice we're late."

Taglist: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chelseagirl98

Ps: this will have a part 3

[z3nitsusgf]

paper bag

roman roy | reader

tw: fem!reader, toxic relations, manipulation, l*gan roy, romann is sick in the head, Roman says a slur (unsurprising), dog motif, teasing, dirty talk, ooc roman bc he's scared of pussy irl, this shit long af I’m sorry, backwards storytelling bc I’m inconsistent

The room is sticky. Sweltering in a post-august heat. The box fan churns and spits out whatever puffs of air it can muster, but the both of you still sweat on the linens of the motel bed.

The walls are stained from years of misuse and neglect, tinged a dirty yellow. You can’t tell if it’s oil or something more debauched that clings to the plaster, probably the latter.

It’s late into the night, too late for anything to be open and too early for it to be acceptable to up and leave. So the two of you are rooted here, stuck till daybreak.

The sounds of people arguing, a car horn blaring, and the buzz of fluorescent whir through your head. There’s a small box TV, it fizzles and pops every time you try to change the channel. Gurgling in a pre-2000s war cry. You could almost laugh at the circumstances.

You wonder how the fuck you’ve managed to snag New York’s brattiest billionaire, even more at how you’ve convinced him to fuck you in a shitty motel just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. Or to even fuck you at all, you only know rumors of his… strange bedroom endeavors.

You stifle an un-humored chuckle, Roman is lying like a royal Persian cat across the bed, shirt long gone and covered only in his boxers. A brand you've never heard of laces his hips, something expensive and out of reach. Just like most of him.

“What?” He asks, head resting on a closed fist. He draws shapes on your leg, neat nails dragging along the soft skin. He likes the smell of your lotion, something girlish and fresh like linen. Almost like something Shiv would wear, or a nanny from his memory. All he knows is that he likes it.

“Nothin’, just thinking.”

He likes your accent. It reveals your upbringing, obviously not the stupidly refined wealth that Roman inhabits but something humbler. It’s a little rough around the edges but not crass. Your words are straightforward and clear, unlike his family's. The bubbling words they offer to air up a conversation, you cut straight through that.

“Thinking about what?”

You give a smile, taking a long drag of your American Spirit and tipping your head back to blow it up to the stained ceiling. The smoke curls and swirls around before dissipating into nothing. He's not used to the smell, it gives the air a hint of pine-tinged outdoorsy aroma. Warm, comforting, familiar, and terrible all at once. Like something Logan would smell like when he came home, on the rare occurrence Roman was around him long enough to get a whiff.

“How I just bagged the Roman Roy, and how it’s gonna look in the papers.”

You joke, obviously. You’d never tell your endeavors to the pressing public or the sneaky little journalists that gripe for your small breadcrumbs about the family. Even if it is technically your job.

Roman hums, “Waystar son indulges in debauched acts with local journalist slut.”

He makes a gesture with his hands, eyes lighting up and going wide. A dopey grin rested on the plane of his cheeks, a row of sparkling whites glimmering under the citrusy glow of the lamp.

“Fuck you.”

You kick him haphazardly in the chest, his laugh rings around the room like a bell. Roman grabs your ankle, curling his fingers around the bone and yanking you down towards him. He’s uncaring of how you slip down the headrest, watching how you squeak and mumble small profanities.

“Prick could’ve dropped the ashes on me.” You mumble, not serious in the slightest.

“What would your father say?”

You snip, reaching down and dragging a hand through his hair, tussling the already licked-up sweaty strands. He practically melts into your touch, eyes closing and lips parting at the contact. He memorizes how your nails feel on his scalp, visualizing the soft pink of your polish running through the strands.

It feels good to have you touch him so effortlessly. As if he was nice to hold and caress, something soft to be sentimental with. Not a bad dog locked in a kennel for once but allowed to curl up on the bed.

But that's exactly what he is, isn't he? He is the dog that sleeps on the floor at the edge of the bed. Curled in on himself, happy to just be close. Nosing at the sheets, contempt with the presence of its owner. Even if he's cold, shivering from the floorboards - you just being there is enough to keep him warm. The few pats on the head allow him to sleep through the night. He is the dog that never leaves your side, sitting off to the right of you and waiting.

He lets out a bitter giggle, a small grimace twitching his lips. It hides the shimmer of despair that is pooled in his head.

“He’d probably be glad I got some pussy for once. Maybe he’ll stop calling me a fag.”

He laughs when he says it, even though a part of you knows he’s dead serious. You've come to learn he always is when it comes to his father.

The sadness cuts through the raunchiness of his words and you fight off the frown that wants to stitch itself across your face. A part of you wants to reach out and mend together the brokenness, another wants to pull out your journal and backlog it for later. A rotten, benign part of you wants to take this man apart and study it to smithereens.

Roman doesn’t say much, surprisingly. He’s reserved in his intimacy, holding back all the love and care that he wants to pour out. He's been starving for decades, yearning for a love that won't come. He's resigned to the fact he is broken. Besides, he’s not here to cuddle up to you for anything more than to get you to not publish your story on the Roy’s. You're both fighting for the same thing, just on different sides.

You respond the only way you knew how, “Fuck, that’s really fucking depressing.”

Roman admires your brutal style, honesty is a rarity that he treasures when it comes. It's why he noticed you in the first place, your articles about the wealthy family in the tabloids caught his eye. Especially the ones about him -it sounds different when you say it, not like you're vying for an undercut but like you're genuine.

He laughs.

You both laugh. Tipping your heads back and howling with laughter. He's got tears in his eyes, and you can't breathe.

///

“Not really your cup of tea, huh?”

You teased, flinging off your shoes and laying on the questionable sheets.

He gives you a snarky grimace and raises a brow, “Careful, you might get scabies or a fucking STD just from breathing in the air.”

It’s not the sort of place you’d expect to see Roman Roy occupy. You can hardly even wrap your head around the fact he’s here now. You imagine the Roy in lavishness, draped in silken white and cashmere. Sipping champagne from a crystal glass brought by room service. Watching the glittering of New York from a floor-to-ceiling window on the billionth floor of a hotel that costs your entire paycheck for just one night.

No, you can’t even pretend that Roman doesn’t look completely out of place here. With his no-tie, popped collar, Tom Ford wannabe pretentious ass. He’s comically out of place. It makes you want to giggle to hell at the way he looks so uncomfortable.

A pretty little rich boy who’s never had to worry about being in anything other than a 5-star. Who now stands in a seedy motel that looks more like a crack house than the Arlo in Midtown. And in place of the champagne, he chugs your shitty beer and water bottle vodka. Cracking open a six-pack of michelob’s and cringing at the taste. It’s painfully cheap, but alcohol is alcohol.

“Come on, don’t act so high and mighty. Relax.”

You pat the empty space next to you, scooting over so he can tentatively sit. You have your thick black journal resting beside you, inside containing all the juicy details and bits about the Roys that would burn down empires and topple over conglomerates.

You’ve hidden most of it well, you’ve had to, or else you get a hit put out on you from the man himself, Logan Roy. Using different names when publishing your work, making interviews anonymous - hell, you feel like Batman with the way you work in the shadows.

Roman inches onto the mattress, eyeing the notebook at your side. He knows, vaguely, what it contains. The secrets, the stories, untamed facts about the company and his family. Usually, he wouldn't give a rat's ass about what a snoopy little journalist had to say about him and his family.

He’ll admit your stuff is good, great even but it's all fluff, a buffer that fills up the sides of newspapers so they have more meat to them. And most of the time it's always the same thing; how horrible his father is, the treatment of Waystar employees, how disconnected the children of the billionaire were. But you- you dug deeper than that.

He never had a reason to look into you until now.

Your stories were revelations for the public. The lies, the coverups, the shady business that their media team works day and night to conceal. You spill it all. And now that you're gaining more traction, more popularity, they're losing revenue quickly. Business deals are turning to dust, stocks are dropping, and employees are quitting on the spot. It's making Waystar crumble from the inside out. And Logan refuses to lose from a puny little journalist, let alone a woman.

When Gerri and Karolina uncovered who was behind the articles, they wilted. If they had told Logan who you were - what you were - he would've squashed you like a bug. Completely ruined your life till you had nothing.

So they took a different approach, a softer more merciful route. They sent Roman after you, and like the loyal dog he is, he went. Mingling with over-eager, latte-sipping, pretentious journalists to get your contact info.

It wasn't as easy as he thought, more work than he wanted to put in. But regardless, he eventually a friend of a friend of a friend gave you up. Not soon after you got a very informal email from the COO, asking to meet up for an "interview" on the pretense of discussing your stories. Or your "allegations" as he liked to call it.

To say you were surprised was an understatement, you nearly passed out in disbelief. It started with meeting him on neutral ground, a coffee shop. Somewhere public and clean, nothing seedy or easily misconstrued.

And when Roman strutted into the small shop, you were very aware of how real this was all becoming. The starkness of his wealth is evident in comparison to the rest of the shop.

"Ah, if it isn't the little paper-pusher I've heard so much about."

Those were his first words to you.

“Mr. Roy, a pleasure to meet you.”

He sat in front of you, pulling off his jacket and haphazardly throwing it over the back of the chair. You're 100% sure it costs more than your yearly salary. At your words, he gives an obnoxious giggle.

“Please, don’t call me that. Makes me think we’re in some sick porno.”

You raise a brow at his crassness, “Ok.. pleasure to meet you, Roman.”

He stifles another giggle but reaches a hand across the table, shaking yours.

Once he’s pulled back he claps his hands together, “Alright, what do you get from this shithole. And don’t tell me you’re one of those hipster-loving morons who gets like matcha or some shit.”

Your eyes widen at how loud he’s being, uncaring that staff or other customers might hear his openness. You know what kind of person he is, you’re just not used to the oozing brattiness in person.

You can only gawk, “Well, um, usually I get a macchiato or just a regular cup of coffee.”

He nods, “Hmm, I see. Ok. I’ll get whatever you get. Throw in a Danish too, I’ll pay.”

You blink vigorously, “Oh no, it’s alright Mr. Roy-”

“Roman.” He corrects, giving a cheeky grin.

“And don’t worry about it, you’re not gonna break the bank with some cheap-ass coffee.”

You wonder if this was a good idea at all, but you quickly come back to reality. You’re here for business, you can’t treat this like a nightmare date from hell. Even if that’s what it feels like. So you do as he says, ordering the coffees and two danishes, even getting an extra muffin to-go.

Time quickly flew by, as much as you hated to admit it. You managed to tug the man back into the conversation you came for - Waystar. Though Roman was more elusive than anything.

Tapping on the table, leaning his chair back, and distracting you with other topics that most certainly were not work-appropriate. Like if you were just making all this fuss because you just wanted to get finger-blasted by the COO. That one made you flush and snap at him like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

But he was so charismatic, in his own twisted way. Like a car crash, you couldn’t look away from, the smoldering flames and heated looks were more than you thought he was capable of.

After hours of talking he drew out your more playful side, the snarky little wit you don’t usually use with the people you’re working with. It was inevitable. And soon, it was late into the evening. With the coffee shop getting ready to close for the night.

“Looks like it’s time to wrap it up for the day.”

You moved to stand, dusting off crumbs from your lap. And Roman is quick to jump up, “Aw, you sure? I mean it’s not that late, wanna maybe head out somewhere?”

He’s vague with his words, you give him a smirk.

“Are you trying to get me alone with you, Roman?”

He chuckles and puts on his jacket, “Of course, I mean, how else am I gonna murder you?”

You both laugh, “Murder me? Sweet little me? What for?”

The two of you walk onto the sidewalk, the crisp night air breezing through your hair.

“We both know you’re not sweet.”

You smile, tucking a lip between your teeth. He’s magnetic, in a venomous and dark way. You know it’s wrong to do this, to get close like this. But sometimes you have to do things in order to get what you want.

“I know somewhere we can go.”

///

That’s how you got here, at least how you remember it. It’s all blurred from the copious amount of alcohol you’ve drank.

Now you have a very not sober Roman Roy on top of you.

He’s flushed, there’s pink smattering across his heated cheeks and he’s got blown pupils the size of the moon. He leers over you, his hand cupping your throat. He’s close, too close.

You can feel the curve of his lip on your cupid's bow, the prickle of his stubble. He smells like Costa Azzurra, citrusy and woodsy. It clouds your drunken brain, making you want to pant and sink your teeth into his neck.

Roman is mumbling, you can’t quite make it out but you feel the warmth of his breath across your cheek. It feels dizzying, like a waking dream.

“I’m gonna kill you. Not gonna let you leave, you’re stuck with me.”

He huffs against the warm apple swell of your cheek. You giggle at that; he feels the warmth of your laugh. The scent of lime and lone star on your breath. There’s a certain giddiness that flutters in your tummy at the words, a sick satisfaction.

One that a dark part of you craves. A feral depravity lies in between your teeth. One that aches to chew on his marrow and swallow him whole. When they trust you to completion, it makes you want to crush them completely.

“Oh yeah?”

You’re hazy. Starry-eyed with droopy lids, face hot from the alcohol and closeness. There are bruises in the shape of his teeth. Ringed purple marks that fade into shimmery blue and greens. Speckled aches across your thighs and neck - all from him. Like rabid animals fighting the very nature of their beings, you claw and tear at one another like beasts deprived.

He buries his face in your chest, trying to hide himself within it - claw his way in and sit inside your heart. Plunging his hands into your back and holding you to him like you were the only ones on earth. He kisses your skin, brushing his lips along your collarbone, down to the center. Straight in your solar plexus, like he could see through it.

As if he could see that beating organ as if he could reach in and take it.

“Yeah. Wanna keep you, like a pet or a girlfriend. What’s the difference?”

You squirm at his hot breath on your neck, the humid air making you needy. You grab his face in your hands, lifting his face up to you and pressing your mouths together in a sloppy kiss. He groans, he doesn’t even wait before he slips his tongue in. Sliding across your lips and flicking on the roof of your mouth. You make a choked sound, the feeling of his tongue invading your mouth.

You can feel the hard bulge of his cock pressing against your stomach, it makes you ache with need.

“Roman,” you pant, “I wanna fuck you.”

He hums, “Wanna fuck you too, wanna fuck your pussy.”

You moan, you want to tear him apart at the seams and eat him whole. Crack that soft apricot heart and bite down into his tissue. You bet he tastes just like it too, sweet and sugary like jam. You want to rip him to shreds, consume each sliver, and savor him like he’s raw slices of strawberries on your plate.

///

He spreads your thighs, gripping your ass in rough hands, practically moaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. There are silvery webs of slickness that glisten along your cunt. You’re panting into the sheets, fisting them as you shiver from the cold AC.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet.”

His thumbs graze along your swollen lips, and you twitch - whining like a puppy that wants a kiss. Hips jerking into the mattress when he grips the fat of your ass and swipes your folds.

“Look at you, so fucked out. And you still want more?”

You nod, humming breathy whimpers each time he gets close to your clit. You let out a sharp yelp when he slaps a hand across your ass, hands flailing and thighs instinctively trying to shut.

He keeps you spread, knee coming up to prevent you from ruining his fun.

“Gotta say it, babe. Can’t read your mind.”

You’re trembling, lips swollen and drooling as you try to push out the words.

“Yes, I want more.” You mumble, face buried halfway into the sheets.

He’s mean with it, pressing the pad of his thumb onto your pulsing clit. Rubbing till he hears the sloppy sound and you’re jerking away with a scampery yip.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

You could cry, wet tears pooling on your lash line. Your cunt throbs, empty and flushed and fucking aching.

“Please, please I want more. Want your cock-“

He’s groaning, yanking you back till your ass is in the air. Spine arching and you feel the brush of his cock on your folds.

“Yeah? Want my cock?” You can hear the smile in his voice, hips shaking in his hold.

His tip is kissing along your entrance, and he watches with hearts in his eyes at the way you coat him in slick. Rutting the length between your folds, dipping in to watch you clench on nothing. Wetness clinging to your inner thighs and painting your pussy a shimmery diamond-esque.

“Mmhm, want it. Want you to fuck me, want it so bad.” You moan, half brain-dead with how stupid you sound.

He giggles, high a girlishy. Slipping in fast and quick, hips jerking till he’s flushed with your ass. His pace is like a rabbit, practically humping you into the mattress. You yelp at the feeling, cock splitting you in two.

“Roman-!”

“What was that?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. It makes you whine, gripping the edge of the bed as he slams harder.

“I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you getting fucking pounded.”

You let out a moan when he hits deep. Slotting all the way, flushed against your ass. His tip is kissing something untouched inside you, sticky head brushing along the cushiony pucker of your cervix.

“Fuck you-“

You choke on your words when he bucks his hips. Slamming impossibly farther.

“Huh? Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you, your wet pussy is too loud.”

You bury your face into your arm. Biting at your lip to keep the drool from spilling over your mouth.

“How’s it feel? Feelin’ good? My little paper-pusher like how I fuck her?”

He makes you insane.

You fist at the sheets, nails digging into the soft gray linen. He’s pushing you into a pretty arch, thumbs keeping your ass spread so he can watch himself fuck your cunt.

“God, your pussy is insane.” His hips are smacking against the backs of your thighs. You’re on the verge of tears from how good it feels, you can feel the veins of his cock pulsing in you. Mouth parted and spilling sticky moans.

“Fuck, how are you so wet?” He murmurs, shivering at the feeling of your tight walls gripping along his length. At this point, his thrusts are sloppy and uneven, but the tip of his cock is still able to hit that special spot deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Roman, m’gonna cum-”

You absolutely lose your mind when he rolls his hips against you, scratching the sheets.

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You nod, waiting for the pit in your tummy to explode. But it doesn’t come, Roman pulling out in one even jerk.

You cry out, “What the fuck?”

“If you wanna cum you gotta promise not to publish that little article of yours, babe”

You’re hazy and desperate, in the back of your mind you know what he’s doing. And it clips your chest. But the pulsing of your cunt overrides all sanity. And you’re too fucked out to even care at this point, you just want to cum.

“What’ll be, huh? Wanna get pounded till you gush over my cock, or do you want to post a dumb story about me?”

You whimper, you’re dangling on your own leash of longing. He’s pressed against your back whispering all the fucked up things he promises to do to you if you just give in. Just let go, he murmurs.

Temptation licking the back of your heels like hellfire. It doesn’t help that he’s pawing at your tits, squeezing your tender flesh like clay. Cock slipping and sliding against your sodden cunt, slick with want and need. Dripping a honey-thick desire so brutal you’d think he was a demon sent from the inferno.

“Ok! Ok, won’t post it, just fuck me! Please, Rome.”

He groans, a hearty whiny thing that makes you clench around nothing.

“Good girl, good girl.”

It’s immediate, the way he slams back in and drives home. Your sticky skin slapping against his, thighs shaking with burning effort, stretched cunt a dripping mess against his cock. You’re babbling, hands reaching back to grip his thighs, nails digging into his flesh.

It’s not long before you’re gushing, clamping down, and seeing stars in your blacked-out vision. Hearing Roman moan and whine before he’s pulling out to cum over your back. The warmth spreads over your spine. He’s shivering, thighs twitching, and abdomen clenching. It’s never felt that good before.

You both pant and heave, body relaxing into the sheets. You’re exhausted, eyes lidding and drifting, faintly feeling the sensation of a towel wiping across your skin.

“Holy fuck-”

You smile softly, eyes closed. Roman plops down next to you in bed, watching as you roll over and sit against the headboard. He’s sweaty and so very good-looking. You smile in a chagrin manner, brushing a finger against his cheekbone.

“How’s that for an interview?”

You laugh, swatting his arm.

“You’re crazy.”

He smiles at you, strangely content. A pinprick of emotions swells in his chest, and you feel that influx of rot starts to crawl its way up your chest. He’s so beautiful, that you’d hate to see him crumble when he finds out you already sent your paper to your editor to post.

But for now, you enjoy the small moment of peace between you two. You laugh and joke and keep this sweet until morning until he realizes what you’ve done.

[sergle]

I really truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate you bitches so much, because on the tiktok of literally COCK AND BALL jokes w brittany broski, there were a few notes/messages like this:

And I KNOW you don't think anyone's going to check. You had someone go into your askbox and say "hiii brittany broski is shitty about palestine she's really ignorant :/" and you went oh omg I didn't know!! thanks for telling me! So I checked! This is in reference to her talking in her podcast, because people were asking why she hadn't done any big press statements about Palestine, you didn't retweet this or that, you must not care, don't you care, what's your stance, etc etc please say more OKAY COOL. So what's going on there? What did Brittany say on her podcast? Is she a Bad Person? Can I have some transcript, please? ____ "Hey guys, before we get into this week's episode, I want to talk to you about the ongoing and prolonged suffering and loss of life in Gaza, in Israel, and the oppression of Palestinian people widespread. I don't ever want it to be a question that I would ever not be against the oppression of any group of people, that I would ever stand on the side of the oppressor." "There was a lot of fear of misusing my platform." ... "I will admit that I was nervous to talk about it, because I don't want to say the wrong thing. And this is too fucking serious of an issue to misspeak, or to spread misinformation, or to speak over or for someone." ... "So I want to take a moment on my biggest platform- which is this podcast, to say that I stand with the people of Palestine, I stand for the liberation of Palestinian people." ... "Every day, to log on to social media, and be just inundated with graphic, unimaginable violence, and loss, and grief, it's just--There are no words." ... "And I feel helpless. That's part of it too, when you feel helpless, the last thing you want to do is talk to people about it-- but visibility is a resource in and of itself. And I can offer that." ... "The outpouring of rage and passion online, and anger at what's happening, I would argue needs to be dedicated and focused on our elected officials. We live in a democracy- albeit an inherently flawed one- we live in a democracy where we have elected officials who were elected and put in power to represent us, and if we feel misrepresented, if we feel underrepresented in foreign affairs? These officials have public phone numbers and emails. There are scripts available online to express your disdain and your rage, and unfortunately that's one of the only ways we'll see actionable change."   "If you expected more from me, it's a terrible feeling- but I don't want to center myself, this needs to be all eyes on Palestine right now, where the real activism is happening. I would encourage you to follow journalists that are on the ground, people who are in Gaza, we need to be listening to them. I would also hope that we're at a point in this conversation where I can express my desire to stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine and that NOT meaning or suggesting or condoning anti-Semitism of any kind. There's a rise of anti-Semitism and islamophobia in the United States and it's just-- it's disgusting, and it's scary, so I want that to be said too. I just wanted to share that I am experiencing part of this collective sense of helplessness and hopelessness-- but it DOESN'T HAVE to be hopeless. I'm going to include a phone number in the description of this episode where, if you don't know the name of your senators or your Congressman, it's never too late to learn, and you can reach out to them." _______ Hm. What a bitch!! Yeah, just so ignorant and uncaring. Obviously she's not keeping up with anything. Should've retweeted more shit ig!

[heartkyeom]

fine line

figure skater!joshua hong x f!reader

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

word count: 19.9k

tag list: @junhui-recs @bfwonu @huiranghaes

warnings: figure skater!joshua, writer/fangirl!reader, best friend!jeonghan, dad!seungcheol, smut, fluff, angst, some occasional skating jargon, this is a lot about the Olympics

a/n: y’all. this fic has been reworked over and over and over since spring 2022, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever done. it’s given me so much trouble and seen me through so many changes in my life. doing my final undergrad dance show, writing my undergrad capstone, finishing undergrad, and finding my first apartment. it is my baby and has grown as much as I have since march. thank you to the sports au discord for being so lovely <3 I hope you enjoy it as always and I hope you can feel how much heart I put into this! this is for @gyukult’s sports au collab + this is loosely based on the plot of the book “funny you should ask” by elissa sussman which I can’t recommend enough! title also inspired by the harry styles song ok bye lmao <3

Work isn’t particularly difficult, in your opinion. You’re used to hearing the people around you complain about how much their workload consumes them to a point of no return, but as you made your way into your first adult job as a writer, you tried to stop that from happening.

It’s not exactly easy when you have to navigate the entertainment industry while writing, but the idea of trying to craft new narratives about celebrities that the public is convinced that they know inside and out still excites you.

Even if you’re not exactly fond of whoever you’re writing about, the challenge still intrigues you. Thus, the conversations surrounding ideas for new profiles are always equal parts captivating and nerve-wracking.

“How do you feel about Joshua Hong?” Your manager asks. You look up to see her balancing her weight on the side of your desk, a neutral expression paints her face.

She knows this is a loaded question, all things considered.

“You know how I feel about him,” You blink at her before facing your computer again.

“I do, but I need an updated response considering the anniversary,” She persists. You sigh, swiveling around to face her again before responding.

“He’s great. I like him,” Your voice trails off, you try to nod to convince her, but it’s not working.

Your life has been so intertwined with Joshua Hong’s career as a professional figure skater that it’s hard to delineate life before and after him. He wasn't there, then one day he seemed to consume your life completely.

Before your start as a journalist, you ran a very well-known, albeit secretive, blog about Joshua Hong as a teenager. It was relatively harmless and safe for work, spare the occasional thirst posts sprinkled in. It mostly contained updates about the then emerging skater’s career, offering illegal torrent links for broadcasts of his performances that weren’t available worldwide and communicating with other fans about your love for him. Yet, some random post about him qualifying for the Olympics went insanely viral when you were 17, garnering over 1 million shares in under a week.

It was substantial enough to get his management's attention, and you had the opportunity to interview him not only for your blog but for a major publication for their Winter Olympics coverage series.

With two opportunities to write about him, you were able to fulfill the fan service pleas from your fellow fans for the blog and write a serious piece that made the general public interested in him from the perspective of a fan that knew the general timeline of his career.

The quick success felt like a fluke, but it led you to an undergraduate degree and a dream job as an entertainment writer at one of your favorite companies almost immediately after graduation.

He technically made your career, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

You’ve been trying to forget about the anniversary, but everyone in your life seems determined to bring it up whenever they see you.

“Well, we want you to do a 10-year reunion interview piece with him. That’s only if you want to,” Her voice was sympathetic, but you’re mainly focused on the number. It really had been 10 years, hadn’t it?

You were both incredibly established in your respective careers, him as a 5-time gold medalist with appearances at 3 Olympic Games, and you with a prolific image as a relatable yet incisive celebrity interviewer. It completely makes sense for you two to meet again, considering how much the first interview changed the trajectory of your lives.

It would feed into the nostalgia of Joshua fans that grew up alongside you as readers of your blog and new fans that clamored for any new Joshua content.

Yet, you weren’t exactly convinced.

“I mean, his team could’ve had anyone else write a big profile on him. We’re not the only website in the world with an entertainment section,” You fight the urge to bite your nails and instead choose to wring your hands together.

“He asked us to do it,” She admits.

You try not to look too shocked, but that definitely changes things. You were not close with Joshua whatsoever. Sure, he’d occasionally like your social media posts and wish you a happy birthday every year, but that was the extent of your relationship.

Your teenage self thinks it might be him looking for closure, wondering what might have happened if you stayed in touch.

Yet, you can’t let yourself dive back into the fantasy of him again.

You search for a response, but you can’t land on anything substantial. “What would I have to do?” You ask, you barely notice the unconscious habit of biting the inside of your cheek.

“Well, in addition to the profile, you can attend his practices and any private schedules he invites you to. It’s mostly up to the discretion of him and his team,” She offers and you nod. You’re good with that, you can watch him practice and go to a random professional event he’s booked for.

“He did offer something else, if you’re up for it,” She gives you a pointed look which makes you a bit hesitant.

“What is it?”

“He asked if you were open to staying at his house,” She smiled through her answer, but you’re sure your face was completely pale.

You didn’t know if you were more shocked or nervous at the idea of it. It was ambitious, considering that you haven’t spent more than a few hours in the same room with him at a time, much less stay with him.

You think you might die if you go through with it.

“He’s not serious,” You find yourself laughing in disbelief. You can’t even fathom the idea of being further sucked into Joshua’s life after so long.

“He really is. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, but within the next day or so,” She leaves your desk without giving you a chance to respond, but you revel in the opportunity to think about everything.

It’s a bit too much to wrap your head around, so much so that you don’t remember much else of the work day.

For the first time in a long time, Joshua Hong was all you could think about.

—

The more you think about the interview, the more it gives you anxiety.

All of the possible outcomes float around in your head during the commute home that you can barely enjoy the music blaring in your headphones.

Once you arrive home, you figure that you need a second opinion on the matter, so you decide to call your far more opinionated best friend for his input.

The phone only rings for a few seconds before he picks up.

“What happened?”

“Joshua wants to do this 10-year anniversary interview where I follow him around,” You sigh.

“No fucking way,” He burst into laughter, his giggles echoing loudly through the phone.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny,” You whine. He was probably the last person you needed to call, seeing as he almost never had a sympathetic response to your pain.

“It’s hilarious, and this is karma for trying to ignore his existence for the past 5 years,” He replies with a teasing lilt.

You hate that he’s right.

You were very proud of Joshua’s successes, in a “retired fan celebrating from a distance” sort of way. Yet, you tried to distance yourself so much from the blog that he inadvertently got caught in the crossfire. You cared about him so deeply for so long that you lost yourself in that, so you tried to cope with the state of your uneven relationship with him in your own little fucked up way.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “I just didn’t think he’d be the one to do it, you know? I thought I’d get a polite email from his assistant, not my manager telling me he wanted to do a profile.”

“That means it’s personal to him, then. That’s actually kinda charming of him,” You feel your phone vibrate, so you check the notification.

Joshua messaged you on Instagram, and from a quick glance at your lockscreen, it’s long.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Wait, he just messaged me,” You quickly put Jeonghan on speaker and opened the app without a second thought. You read his message out loud:

joshuahong: Hi! Not sure if you’ve heard my request yet about the anniversary profile, but I would really love it if we could make it happen. I know it’s been a really long time, but I think it’d be fun to do it again. You’ve always supported me from the beginning of my career, so it would mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you, so we would definitely be catching up in more ways than one. We’ll only do it if you’re up for it though, please don’t ghost me this time lol

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan fills the silence immediately. You were pretty much lost for words, but you managed to speak. “Holy shit is right,” You mumble to yourself.

You suddenly feel guilty for trying to bury him out of your life, especially when he clearly said he misses you.

Were you trying to set your boundaries by pushing him away or were you just being an asshole?

“I feel really stupid,” You hate that you want to cry. You can’t reckon with the fact that Joshua has wanted to reconcile for so long that he had to do this to get your attention.

At least, that’s what the selfish part of you thinks. You know the interview is so much bigger than yourself, but then again, it is a symbol of you and the years of effort you put into your blog.

“You’re not stupid, but you need to worry about what you’re gonna say. Are you gonna say yes?” He asks.

Admittedly, you do feel the pull to say yes.

“I think I might. Is that a bad idea?” Internally, you know the answer, but your insecurities need some validation.

He clears his throat before responding. “I think you’ll regret it if you say no. I think it’ll hurt you more to not have closure with him.”

You don’t think you necessarily want anything out of this besides becoming friendly with him.

You’d like to think that’s what would’ve happened if you didn’t completely ice him out.

“That’s true. It’s gonna be so hard to see him again,” A whine pulls your lips into a pout and you already know Jeonghan will protest.

“Stop talking yourself out of it. Who knows, you might end up enjoying everything,” he suggests openly.

“That’s possible. His house is supposed to be insanely big,” You shake your head at the idea of how a 27-year-old millionaire pro figure skater would be living, definitely far better than your current apartment.

“You can only know for sure if you say yes.”

“I know,” You figure you need a vacation anyways, even if it means facing some unresolved emotional baggage.

“So, you know your answer then. I need to get back to work, but don’t blow him off. Respond to him tonight or I’m not giving you the deluxe massage package gift certificate like I promised,” Jeonghan was not above threatening you into action, and this one had the right level of stakes.

“Fine, okay,” You huff out, already opening the Instagram app again to motivate you into typing a proper response.

You exchange quick goodbyes and you let yourself look, albeit for far too long, at the message again to gain some inspiration.

Before you know it, you’re sending him a formal reply.

you: Hi! You’re right about ghosting, no excuses for that so I’m sorry lol. I’ve thought about it and I’d be happy to do it, it’s been too long since we’ve talked. Let me know the timeline you’re thinking of and I’ll get my schedule figured out

You figure that’s just enough to ease your nerves. It’s not exactly as earnest as his original message, but it’ll work for now.

You even send a screenshot of the message to Jeonghan as proof for the sake of accountability and the state of your deluxe massage package gift certificate. You place your phone on your nightstand to avoid fixating on another response, letting yourself go fix dinner and get ready for bed without thinking.

It’s only when you’re about to settle into bed that you remember your phone. You reach for it and Joshua, who is somehow extremely prompt with his messages, sends you another reply 10 minutes after your message.

joshuahong: Great! We’ll start sorting out more details then. I’m really glad you said yes

He’s already trying to pull at your heartstrings and it’s working. Despite everything, Joshua has always been kind. He doesn’t just seem nice, like what most celebrities are assumed to be around other people, he’s always made sure you know he cares about you even if you hadn’t known what to do about it.

You type out another quick response before going to bed.

you: Of course, it’s gonna be a lot of fun

You hope that’s true, you hope that you’re not already in over your head with the situation. He still seems to have faith in you, so why not trust that instinct?

—

During pre-trip preparations, you found yourself talking to Joshua far more often than before.

The conversations didn’t go too deep of course, you couldn’t get everything out of him before you even had a chance to conduct the interview, but the harmless banter seemed to slowly bridge that treacherous gap left between you two.

You even thought it would make your first meeting less awkward, but that wasn’t even remotely possible. It had only taken a few days for the entirety of the trip to be confirmed by your workplace and his team, and the final itinerary made your head spin.

You would follow Joshua around for a week, primarily to his private daily practices in an effort to show his infamous dedication to Olympics training.

All while you stayed in his guest room.

You couldn’t get out of that obligation, no matter how much you tried to convince him that you would be perfectly fine staying in a luxury hotel room paid for by your employer. He was confident that you could get a better view into his life while staying at his house which you reluctantly agreed with.

His idea definitely didn’t cross any professional boundaries at all, none whatsoever! This is what he’d do as a friend if you were coming to visit anyways, right?

You were still slightly afraid to hear his voice, you weren’t exactly sure why, but you were hoping it would keep the image of him unchanged in your mind until you saw him in person again.

You knew you were heavily biased going into this situation, so why not protect your heart for a little bit longer?

joshuahong: Are you nervous about tomorrow?

you: Not really

joshuahong: Y/N, please don’t lie.

you: I’m not!

joshuahong: I’m kinda nervous to see you, though

you: Really? Why?

joshuahong: I think it’s been 6 years since I’ve seen you in person. That’s scary to think about

you: The passing of time is scary

joshuahong: Definitely. Promise to not be awkward?

you: I’ll try my best!

joshuahong: That’s not a promise!

you: Fine, I promise but you have to promise too!

joshuahong: I promise :) now get some sleep, I don’t want to hear you complain when you have plenty of time to get 8 hours of sleep

you: You’re so mean!! but you too, get lots of rest so you can give me a good show tomorrow

He doesn’t reply to that last message, only using a heart emoji reaction instead.

The weight of the trip suddenly sits on your heart, and the main objective of writing an exceptional interview is somehow the least of your worries now.

—

The flight to Korea is unceremoniously long, you have far too much time and anxiety to let yourself fall asleep. You go through all the Netflix episodes you downloaded for the flight, finish the book that’s been sitting on your shelf for ages, and write down some preliminary notes about what you’d like to cover in the interview.

You decide to keep your ideas vague so that you’re not overexerting your brain during the flight.

First, a general discussion of the Olympics. That’s the main appeal of the article, seeing what his main preparations are like and hopefully getting some better insight about his feelings surrounding everything.

The second is his recovery from his last Olympics injury. He landed the most ambitious jump of his free skate program completely wrong, breaking his ankle in the process. It was during the last event of his Olympics run for that year, and he still placed third in the men’s individual skate program overall, but it’s been a sore subject for him in most interviews he’s done since the incident.

The footage is as agonizing as you can imagine, but the fact that he finished the routine at all is stunning. You figure that you can get some in-depth reaction about that moment and the subsequent recovery, more than the extremely media-trained answer he’s given about it before.

Lastly, the prospect of retirement. He’s said almost nothing about his plans after the upcoming Olympic games, but Olympics experts are convinced that the news is looming over his upcoming appearance.

You knew better than to ask him outright about it because he definitely wouldn’t give you a straight answer. From watching his recent interviews, you realized that Joshua has a tendency to go into a subtle apathetic mood when the interviewer hits something he’s not comfortable with. You hope that you can breach the subject without things going completely south. This interview was supposed to hit some darker aspects of the state of Joshua’s career, but you never wanted to make him uncomfortable.

Other than those topics, anything else he wanted to divulge to you would be a bonus. You wanted him to have a reasonable amount of control over what would go into the interview, so you’re not opposed to adjusting your interview material if needed.

The thought of his reactions to your questions swarms your brain in a frenzy, but you know you’re getting ahead of yourself.

The flight lands without any problems and you’re still trying to figure your thoughts out by the time you’re picking up your suitcase from baggage claim.

You’re soon greeted by Joshua’s driver, a tall man who holds a sign with your name printed on it, nodding in affirmation when you confirm your identity with him. He’s distantly kind to you, but it’s enough to put you at ease for the moment. You’re escorted to a tinted black SUV with a gentle hand opening the back car door for you. Your suitcase is carefully stowed into the back of the truck while you click your seatbelt into place across your lap.

You don’t realize how tired you are until the car starts moving. You didn’t bother to orient yourself with the time once you got off the flight, but you figure it’s somewhere between late morning and early afternoon by the way the clouds create a gray atmosphere in the sky.

Nonetheless, looking out the window is enough to pull you into sleep, and you indulge yourself in a short nap, barely considering where you may be headed.

—

It turns out that Joshua wanted to meet you at his home rink first which explains why you were waking up to the sight of a massive stadium.

You were slightly annoyed that you weren’t at a stable location yet, your body started to feel vaguely sick at the constant movement of the car.

You’re grateful that the car stops for a moment, you’re hoping Joshua takes a bit longer than expected to come out of the rink so that your body can stop feeling off center.

Unfortunately, he’s quite prompt, you notice him walking out only a few minutes later. He’s accompanied by two other staff members, seemingly debriefing him on your arrival as you see one of them point to the car.

You suddenly feel acutely aware of how disheveled you look in your inconspicuous airport outfit, barely awake enough to make proper conversation with him.

He arrives at the other back car door quickly, opening it with a big smile.

“Y/N! Hi, I’m so happy to finally see you again,” He’s excited, settling into the backseat across from you, slightly more perky than you expected.

“Hi,” You wave back politely, pushing your voice up an octave to match his energy that is nearly impossible to replicate in your current mood.

“I’m sure you must be exhausted, it was a long flight wasn’t it?” His brows furrow slightly, and his concern is evident on his face.

“Yeah, I’m still pretty tired,” You offer him a halfhearted smile.

“Well, we can recover once we’re at my place. We’ll have time to catch up on everything,” He reassures you with a nod.

He notices you’re still out of it, so you don’t talk for the rest of the ride to his house.

Through heavy eyelids, you steal a few looks at him and he really is as pretty as you remember. His boyish features filled out his face much better now, although he was always handsome.

You’re not sure how long his practice day was, but it surely didn’t show in his features. He caught you looking at him only once, you tried to be discreet while he was looking at his phone, but he still saw you.

It seemed like he had a sixth sense to know when someone was looking at him which, if anything, made it a bit more embarrassing to get caught.

He let you off easy though, smiling at you before turning his attention back to his phone.

It was a tiny gesture, but it reminds you just how much he seems to notice you.

—

You wouldn’t say you’re best friends or anything, but talking to Joshua for an extended period of time has made you miss being around him in person. His energy has always been the same after so long.

“So you just casually stumbled into an interview with Dwayne the Rock Johnson?” He’s somehow fully astonished at your celebrity interview stories, you notice the sparkle in his eyes and his smile is radiant, but you think that’s just the alcohol creeping up on him.

You both agreed to a drink after coming back to the house, you chose wine while he opted for beer. This has made the mood considerably less awkward and you’re grateful that you both pushed past the mandatory small talk.

“Yeah, the interviewer before me canceled so I got more time with him than I intended. Then the whole viral interview video happened,” You wave your hand before taking another sip of your glass.

“You say that as if it’s normal,” He pushes his hair back, slightly exposing his forehead. That was surprising coming from him, considering that he is far more famous than you would ever be. Yet, you assume that it’s because he’s famous in a more traditional sense, so content creation was never a part of his job to begin with.

“Well, it is if you’re good at it, which I am,” You brag, receiving a hearty laugh from him.

“Look at you, big shot,” He playfully swats your arm. “You really made it, huh?” He’s fond, his glance is soft and yearning for more. It’s far too sentimental for where you wanted this to go tonight, but you play along for a moment.

“I did,” Your cheeks are slightly too warm as you avoid his eye contact with a small smile, but you still have control over yourself. You decide to take advantage of it.

“I want to get some stuff recorded for the interview if that’s okay?” You don’t know why you ask for permission to start interviewing, seeing as it’s the entire reason you’re here in the first place.

“That’s fine,” He straightens up a bit, he doesn’t seem too affected by the alcohol either which will make this a bit easier.

“We’ll keep it pretty light today, considering this is just the first day.”

“I’m good with that,” He chuckles lightly. You know he’s watching you struggle to figure out the best way to interview him. It’s too much effort to find your laptop which is somewhere tucked away in a carry-on bag, so you settle for your phone.

“Ok, so,” you fumble with your phone’s record button on the Voice Memos app for a moment, “tell me your general feelings about the Olympics coming up.”

“I’m excited, I missed being in full competition prep mode. It’s an indescribable feeling, but everything is coming together nicely which is all I can ask for on the 4th time around,” He had a vague joy in his eyes, but you didn’t want to scrutinize the answer just yet, it was only the first question.

“What does full competition prep mode look like for you?”

“My practice days are much longer than usual, so I’m in the rink most days from sunrise to sunset, if I can help it,” He smiles sheepishly. That charm seems like it’s going to seep through every response he gives you, so he can possibly get away with some things.

“What do you like to do to destress after such long practice days?”

His eyes light up at the idea and he readjusts his position on the couch. “I like taking a cold shower and catching up on reality TV, I honestly like anything trashy.”

You didn’t peg Joshua to be a reality TV person, but it’s the exact kind of pop culture talk that his fans will eat up.

“Okay, then which one do you prefer, The Bachelor or Love Island?” You ask curiously.

“Love Island, easily,” He replies immediately. He smirks and you nod in affirmation. You knew he had good taste, you figure you’d have to ask him about some other TV preferences later.

“Good, that was the right answer,” You shoot back. You decide to drink the rest of your wine instead of nursing it any longer.

“Asking the tough questions, clearly,” He’s way too smug about it and it makes you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, I told you we’re keeping it light! Unless you want to be asked about the future of your career while we drink,” Now it’s your turn to touch his arm, your hand intentionally doesn’t linger for too long though.

“I don’t, you’re right,” You know he’s not lying by the way he lets out a deep breath. There’s an unspoken tension at the thought of you bringing everything up.

“Okay, one more dumb non-skating question.”

“They’re not dumb,” He immediately catches your words and you blink at him, silently watching his face. He stares back, but his expression is slightly tender. Again, his face is almost too sweet for you to process. It threw you off this time though, so you have to look at the floor. You don’t even remember the question you meant to ask him, so you opt for a way out.

“Stop it.”

“What?” He genuinely looks confused, as if he’s not unconsciously doing the standard heartthrob boyfriend-esque banter.

“That was too nice,” You pick up your phone to stop the recording, still not facing him. Your body language is slightly more closed off.

“You act like you’ve never been complimented before,” He retorts.

You couldn’t say that it was different because he said it, you couldn’t give a shit if some random A-lister made you feel better about your work, but it was him.

“I’m not used to your compliments,” You indirectly emphasize him.

“Well, we’ll have to change that then,” He smirks.

That stirs something up in your chest, but you can’t quite name it. You decide it’s best to ignore it.

“Great. So are you gonna make me dinner or are we ordering somewhere?”

“I’m definitely not cooking,” He lets out a clipped laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. To be fair, he exerted more physical effort in a day than you’d do in an entire calendar year, so you weren’t exactly offended.

The night spun on with cheap pizza and varying levels of conversations. He even convinced you to watch Love Island, albeit one episode, until he decided he was too tired to continue.

He gives you a short tour of the guest room before retreating to his own room, and you finally get a moment to sit with your thoughts.

Joshua is friendlier than you expected and that was going to cause problems whether you liked it or not.

—

Although it was your first full day in town, the jetlag caught up with you almost immediately. Joshua mentioned last night that he would be at meetings throughout the afternoon, so you were grateful that you didn’t have to tag along.

Once you were thoroughly awake, you decided to investigate the house. As you suspected, it was far too big for him, especially considering he wasn’t home enough to enjoy it anyways.

The style of the house is typical celebrity fare, far too angular and minimalist for your taste. The shades of white, gray, and black that decorated his furniture and appliances were anything but inviting. It was all far too muted in your opinion and it made you miss the character of your apartment.

Besides a few framed photos of what you assume to be his family and friends along with some light decor, it looks like it could be plucked right off of a Zillow listing.

Even if you wanted to write some flowery prose about his house for the article, it leaves much to be desired.

“Are you settled in?” Your manager asks over the phone. She promised not to call you after this initial check in, but you figured she’d find other ways to be nosy about how things are going. She was a fan of Joshua, so her prying for extra details wouldn’t be completely unexpected.

“Yeah, everything’s been good,” You shared, completely nestled onto the couch with a blanket.

“How’s Joshua?” She inquires with a slight lilt.

“He’s doing well. We’ve already got some parts for the interview, but I haven’t seen him skate yet,” You recall the banter of last night with a small smile. You were both being friendly, it was completely harmless.

“Well, you still have a lot of time for that, but I’m glad you’ve made some progress. I’ll let you go, but let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” You respond. You exchange goodbyes and go back to mindlessly scrolling on Twitter.

“Were you talking shit about me?” Joshua asks. You whip your head around to notice him watching you, completely unsuspecting in his business casual attire. You shriek in fear, clutching the blanket before reaching over to throw a pillow at his face. He narrowly avoids it with a massive grin on his face.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me,” You sigh, pressing a hand to your chest to check your racing pulse.

“I’m light on my feet.”

“Yeah, clearly,” You grumbled.

“You look very comfortable,” He teases, pointing to your current seating position with a chuckle. Your body is completely wrapped up minus your head. It probably looks quite funny by the way he bites his tongue with a childish smile.

“I am. How were the meetings?” You deflect the attention onto him instead.

“Productive,” He walks around to join you on the couch, landing next to you with a sigh.

“Anything worth breaking an NDA over?”

He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not,” He scoffed.

“Worth a try,” You finally free your arms from the blanket, but you’re still wearing a hoodie.

“Why did you need the blanket if you’re wearing a hoodie?” He asks politely, pointing to your chest.

“I get cold easily!” You protest.

This oversized maroon hoodie was your signature writing piece, you absolutely needed to wear it for big projects or else you wrote pure shit.

You’ve had it since you started writing professionally, a random thrift store find that has given you incredible luck over the years. It’s helped you through many long nights of writing and editing throughout your career.

Thus, you put it on in an attempt to stir up some inspiration, but to no avail.

Joshua is charmed by this backstory though, nodding along with his head in the palm of his hand.

“You think it’s dumb,” You’re projecting onto him, without a doubt.

“No, it’s not! It’s actually very cute. You can wear it to the rink later.”

“We’re still doing that?” You grimace. He joked that he was going to take you out onto the ice, but doing it this early into the trip felt like overkill.

“Unfortunately, yes,” He pouts. “I’m forcing you out of the house so that you don’t steal my blankets.”

“Very rude.”

—

The rink is far bigger than you could’ve imagined. You haven’t been in many throughout your life, but since it functions partly as a stadium, it makes you feel even smaller.

He leads you to the check in booth to introduce you to the staff onsite for the day. If he’s coming to practice solo, he remarks that the employees only door is typically unlocked for him, and his suspicions are correct.

“Hey, man, it’s good to see you again,” Joshua embraces a taller man into a hug once he walks through the door. “Cheol, this is Y/N,” He glances between the two of you with a hopeful smile.

“Y/N, this is Seungcheol.”

“Hi,” You wave politely and everything starts to register for you. You’ve known of Seungcheol for a long time through Joshua’s social media, you knew they were longtime friends and Joshua was always open about being close with Seungcheol’s family.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Josh has told me a lot about you, you’re always a hot topic around here,” Seungcheol smirks to Joshua’s dismay.

“Not in a bad way, everybody loves your writing,” Joshua tries to diffuse the tension with a short smile.

“Is Sumin here?” He switches the topic completely, looking around to the back door for any sign of life.

“Yeah, she’s just with her mom. I’ll go get her,” Seungcheol replies before heading further back into the venue.

It’s another minute or two before he comes back with a toddler in his arms, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joshua. She squirms in Seungcheol’s hold until he puts her down, and she takes off running until Joshua catches her in his arms.

“Joshie,” she screams into his ear. He spins her around for a moment until she’s giggling uncontrollably. It was absolutely adorable, it even got a smile out of you.

“Hi Minnie, how are you?” He’s beaming from ear to ear at her.

“Good,” she nods decisively. He points to you before introducing you to her.

“That’s Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine, can you say hi?” He coaxes her with a gentle voice.

“Hi,” She waves and Joshua is celebrating her again with a small kiss on the cheek. He seems like such a natural with her, it’s as if she’s his own daughter.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” You wave back and she offers you a shy smile.

“I have to go, but I’ll just be skating out there with Y/N, okay?” He reassures her with a sweet pat to her hair before handing her off to Seungcheol.

She puts her head on Seungcheol’s shoulder with another nod. “Out there,” she points to the ice.

“Yep. Be good for dad, I’ll see you later,” He winks at her before leading you both out to the ice.

Your heart is warm from the entire interaction. He sits down on the bleachers and you land next to him, silently placing his duffel bag onto the ground.

He unzips it to reveal your skates. He ordered them before you arrived, promising that he would get you to skate at some point during the trip. You just didn’t predict it would be this early on.

“How old is she?” You asked, toeing off your sneakers before putting on the skates one at a time.

“Two,” He smiles fondly at the thought of her. “Cheol and his wife are such good parents, they were worried about being too young but they’re perfect to her.”

“So you’re her godfather, I assume?”

“Is it that obvious?” He scrunches his face. He turns his attention to his skates for a moment, quickly lacing them up and tightening them. You didn’t even notice him taking off his other shoes.

“Yeah, you definitely gave off dad vibes, but it was sweet.”

“Him and his family have done so much for me, I couldn’t say no. I also helped him ask out his wife on their first date, so it was inevitable,” He pushes his hair out of his face with a grin.

“They helped you adjust here, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll always be grateful for them. It started with discounted rental fees because I couldn’t afford to use the space, so I owe a lot to them. I pay them back in any way I can,” He nodded solemnly.

He has a deep sense of gratitude that is admirable, it makes you wonder what it’s like to be so deeply initiated into someone’s life that there’s no question if you’ll be there forever, it’s just a matter of what role you’ll play.

It made sense that Joshua knew the place so intimately, he was clearly a member of Seungcheol’s family. He grew up in this rink, watched his friends grow and start their families. It was a safe haven.

“Are you ready to skate?”

“Barely.”

“That’s the spirit,” He rubs your shoulder before standing up. You also stand up, albeit far more slowly, facing toward the ice.

You’ve gone ice skating multiple times in your life, but not enough to remember anything past the basics. You step onto the ice, but you already feel like the surface is going to give out any second.

Joshua notices you start to flail and rushes to place a protective arm around your waist. “Are you okay?”

“No,” You squeeze your eyes shut and are already considering admitting defeat. The idea of voluntarily skating with an Olympic gold medalist had to be the worst idea you’ve had in a long time.

“Do you want me to get you the walker?” He asks sweetly. There’s absolutely no malice there, but it still feels slightly patronizing.

“Joshua, that’s not funny,” You whine, anxiously looking down at your skates.

“I’m not joking, I’m just giving you options!”

“No, I don’t need it. I just got nervous,” You reassure yourself. That was the truth, it was mostly the shock of being on the ice again after such a long time.

“Ok, so if I let go, you’ll be fine?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m letting go. Just bend your knees if you think you’re gonna fall,” He slowly moves away from you, looking expectantly to see how you’ll fare on your own. His advice works and you find your balance without too much effort. You do remember how to move forward on skates, so you decide to impress him a bit.

You move easily, pushing your back leg out and to the side before alternating legs, making your way across the ice without much issue. He is visibly impressed, gasping at you with his arms crossed.

“You’re so good! I thought you were a beginner,” He praises you while skating over to your side.

“I am! I don’t know anything other than this.”

“That’s fine, then we can just expand on that skill today. Nothing crazy, I promise,” He calms your nerves with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The skill in question is extending the standard forward movements into drawn out strokes, so it appears as though you’re gliding instead of walking on the ice. You would leave that back leg out for longer periods to create a more elegant appearance when you move forward. When he demonstrates the move, you’re mesmerized. No matter how many times you’ve seen him do the same moves, there’s still an enchanting quality to his skating.

He can elevate any move without much effort, but that is clearly from years worth of work and persistence into making his moves clean.

Joshua is an incredibly patient teacher, far more than you expected. There’s absolutely no frustration when you make a mistake, just a quiet encouragement to keep going.

When you unexpectedly lose your balance, he’s making sure you fall backwards so as to not injure your hands. When you’re visibly frustrated, he lets you take a break for a few minutes to regroup. There’s a level of care you didn’t expect, but then again, it’s Joshua. He couldn’t ignore your requests for help even if he wanted to.

You’re not ready to do full out spins or jumps yet, but you are instilled with a new confidence that you can at least try something new without getting immediately discouraged.

“Are you good with finishing up there?”

“Yeah, I feel good. I do need something from you, though.”

“And what is that?”

“Your best jump.”

“Best jump?” He looks back at the ice before facing you again, seemingly considering all his options. Despite all of your years of supporting him, you still didn’t know the difference between the jumps, but you figure it’s best not to ask for more explanation than this.

“Pretty please?” You flash a smile that he can’t deny. He lets out a quiet laugh and his eyes search the ground for a moment before he nods.

“Okay, I’ll do a quadruple jump combo, but only because you asked so nicely,” He sighs, squaring his shoulders for a moment.

“I appreciate it a lot,” You amp up the compliments in hopes that he doesn’t change his mind.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” He skates away from you to find a solid starting position. You move to a corner wall to observe and stay out of the way.

He takes a deep breath before starting his entrance, snapping through both jumps with ease. He landed evenly, coming out into a pose for you, his arms pointed up with flair before putting them down again.

“Very impressive,” You compliment him.

“It was, wasn’t it?” His breathing is a bit uneven once he comes up to you again. You smile at his cockiness, but it’s well earned.

He restrains himself from practicing any further or else he’ll be here for hours on end, but that’s not too different from most days. He tells you this is one of his shorter visits, somehow being here for under 3 hours is an accomplishment worth celebrating.

You both say goodbye to Seungcheol and Sumin before heading out to his car. You climb into the passenger seat while he adjusts his seatbelt. He decides to let you interview him while he’s driving although you were fine with waiting until you were back at his home.

“So this current practice routine is the most intense level you’ve been at in the past 4 years?”

“Yeah, I slowly had to work it up to this point after the injury. It was almost painful to slow down that much, but I needed to,” He focuses on the road while responding. You’ve opted for writing notes on your phone and recording at the same time.

“How did it initially feel for you to go through it?”

“I hated it. I didn’t break my ankle normally either, so it wasn’t just the typical advice of staying off your ankle for 8 weeks. It took so much longer than everyone anticipated and I had to genuinely stop everything I was doing,” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel to your slight shock.

“I’m sure it was frustrating to not be able to enjoy that podium moment either.”

“Right, it was as if I didn’t even make the podium. I got 3rd place, but it was so excruciating to even be up there, I didn’t feel like I earned it,” He looks visibly upset just recounting it to you. It hurts to hear just how insecure he became afterwards. In hindsight, it makes sense that he didn’t want to spend time discussing it. Back then, the radio silence just made you hope that he was taking care of himself, not feeling pressured to keep anyone updated. Why would he want to constantly relive and dissect that kind of trauma?

“Do you ultimately want to redeem that moment?”

“I hope so. There’s always pressure to constantly outdo yourself, but I just want to finish the routines safely. That’s all I want,” He nods solemnly and you automatically believe him. Although he’s safely finished the other competitions within a season, there’s still an underlying fear of things going wrong at the worst possible moment.

“From what I saw today, you’re being careful,” You assure him. It’s not wrong to say that either, especially when he was helping you with the execution of the moves earlier. When he was done showing you a certain idea, he didn’t linger in the pose too long at all. It felt like he was overly cautious if anything, but you didn’t want to shift the mood too drastically.

“That’s from all the paranoia, trust me. I don’t want to feel afraid to compete, I want to break out of that habit,” He finally glances at you for a moment.

You’re grateful that he seems to echo your internal sentiment. There was never an air of hesitation around his skating, he was always quite self-assured in himself, but you both know that never conquering your fears could indefinitely stunt your growth. He obviously needed as long as possible to rebuild his self image and confront his fears.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll find that courage again,” You place a hand on his shoulder. The tension settles almost immediately at your touch.

“You think so?”

“I know you will. It’s either that or withdrawing from the Olympics which just sounds like a lot of paperwork, honestly,” You joke.

“You’re right, it’s a shit ton of paperwork,” He giggles and readjusts his hands on the wheel again.

You knew that last part wouldn’t be used for your final work, but it’s nice to hear him joke about it all. You liked being there for him as a friend, even if you’d never know exactly what it’s like to be in his position. He deserves that kind of empathy that’s not hollow or backhanded, you figure that’s the least you could do for him while being here.

You could finally even out the foundation of friendship in this way, silently repairing all the mistakes you’ve made in the past in regards to your relationship.

He’s able to talk a bit more about his recovery before the end of the drive and you feel satisfied by the end of the night. Over dinner, it feels like everything is evolving, not just the article itself. He’s opened himself up a bit further and you’d like to treasure that.

—

“You don’t have to stay the entire time, you know that right?” He turns his glance toward you away from the ice with a smirk playing on his lips.

The infamous 12-hour practice day had arrived, and you were dreading it the most out of the week’s schedule. Yet, you were committed to being as involved in his daily life as possible, despite your natural aversion to waking up at dawn. You didn’t want to be one of those writers that holed up in their hotel room to write their assigned article. It was typically out of your control how much time you were allowed to spend with a subject, but if given the option to spend more time with them, you wanted to take it.

Since it was Joshua, you still felt obliged to play catch up on spending time with him in any way you could, even if it meant watching him from the bleachers for an entire work day. Plus, you were already at the rink this early, there was no use in leaving to do touristy things alone when you didn’t necessarily want to do that anyways.

“I know, but I want to,” You retorted. He gives you that “you’re gonna eat your words” look, but he still accepts your answer.

“Are you still up to be interviewed once you’re done practicing?”

“Yeah, I should be good,” He takes a deep breath once he replies, seemingly preparing himself for the painstakingly long day ahead of him.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” You wave at him and he returns it immediately. You head up the bleachers to find a good seat, ending up somewhere towards the lower half of the seating. You wanted to be in a good position where you could view the full scope of his skating, but also capture the details of his face. Your position ends up being perfect, it makes watching him even more fascinating.

He does most of his stretches further away from you, so you’re caught craning your neck to see him. His muscles are well defined, a fact that you’ve been trying to ignore as the bulk of his arms seem to fight against the sleeves of his shirt as he stretches his limbs above his head.

His warm-up is calm yet still dynamic to watch. His jumps are so effortless that your head spins just thinking about the physics of jumping up into a spin and somehow not falling on your ass as you land.

Yet, he lands them perfectly every time. You know that’s not possible, that there’s probably some small tweak he’d make to the way he entered a jump or a correction he’d make to the angle of his landing, but you were fine living in ignorant bliss of the technical aspects of his skating.

You wanted yourself to enjoy being a spectator, to not fixate on every single detail, and simply enjoy an elite athlete being good at their sport.

He takes a small breather but soon goes into his assumed short program. Most diehard Olympics fans would kill to see even a glimpse of his routines for the impending games, but like any other figure skater, the details are carefully kept under lock and key until the competition begins.

You try to savor the image of him without the full theatrics of the actual performance, and the sight of him is enchanting.

His short program music is a bombastic and dynamic classical piece that forces you to focus on every detail of the performance. It’s a triumphant number, one that exudes the confidence and charisma of an experienced skater that knows the nuances of the song like the back of their hand. You decide that it suits him perfectly as he expresses the power of the song through cutthroat expressions and sharp movements.

After running through the full routine a few times, you notice him stop to take an extended break. He skates back to your side of the rink with a smile on his face.

“Falling asleep yet?” He jokes.

“Not yet,” you return the smile, your cheeks practically hurt just looking at him. It’s nearly impossible to avoid watching him, he’s always had this magnetic charm on the ice that makes him hard to ignore.

“Good, I haven’t bored you yet. How’s the writing coming?”

You glance at your laptop on the seat next to you, accompanied by scattered papers on top of the keyboard. The writing was mostly on pause considering the unusual environment, you didn’t ever write with the same classical song blasting in your ears on repeat.

Also, he was skating, so every time you thought you got into a good rhythm with writing, your eyes drifted back to him gliding across the ice. The sound of his skates hitting the ice was hard to ignore.

“It’s coming,” You lie easily. A quick tilt of his head signals that he knows you’re bluffing.

“Lots of strategizing, huh?” He doesn’t let on though, pointing at your notes instead and you’re nodding slowly.

“You’re not an easy person to write about,” You give him a pointed look and he’s grinning.

“So I’ve heard,” You’re glad he has some level of self-awareness. You’re not trying to give writers who are purposefully uninformed about his career when tasked to write a meaningful piece about him any credit, but he was a somewhat difficult subject.

Not in the traditional ways, of course, he’s not storming out of interviews over small details, but he’s so polished that it’s impossible to get much depth out of him beyond his typical media-trained answers.

You always heard the same things about him from other entertainment writers. He was perfectly kind and respectful to work with, but you would have to try especially hard to break him out of his mold.

Even if you felt that you knew him, you didn’t really know him at all.

The thought sits in the back of your mind like an unwanted guest.

“That means you actually have to keep giving me something to work with,” You sigh, gesturing your hands out toward him.

“We’ll see,” He playfully eyes you up and down, but it has a serious undertone. You’ve made some good progress, but you didn’t want to torture him for details. It wasn’t worth being invasive of his boundaries just to make a better article.

He skates off without another word and he’s back in the throes of practicing the routine. After a bit more technical work on the short program, he moves on to the free program.

The music is drastically calmer, it creates a stark contrast to his first routine. It’s still classical, you’d have to inquire exactly what track it was, but the mood of the piece was much lighter. It was smart of him to represent the full duality of his skating abilities.

His movements are almost fairylike, his delicate spins are effortless to watch. This doesn’t undercut the power of his jumps though, still as dramatic as ever. This routine contains far more quadruple jumps than the short program, likely in an effort to show off his technical prowess.

He wasn’t called the “technical prince” for nothing. It’s a nickname that’s been floating around the fandom since your early blog days, first used when fans noticed that young Joshua’s technical scores at competitions were almost always perfect. It’s followed him for years, evolving to show how clean his technique is.

He’s the textbook example of a good figure skater.

Once he finishes the routine, you can tell his stamina is reasonably depleted. From your occasional glances, you can tell it’s quite taxing to do multiple quadruple jump combinations in a row, yet he pulls it off every time.

The rest of the day consisted of him alternating between the routines, cleaning up details that he wasn’t happy with, and practicing the execution of his moves until he finally seemed satisfied with them. After a while, you figure you can’t write much else for this portion of the article without interviewing him again, so you settle further into the unforgivingly cold seats to watch him intently.

“Y/N!” He calls your name suddenly, waving his hand from across the rink.

“What?”

“It’s time to go home,” He beckons his hand for you to come toward him. You don’t hesitate to pack your laptop and assorted notes back into your purse, rushing over to meet up with him on his side of the rink. You don’t exactly know how to process being included in the concept of his home, even though you know it’s a harmless statement.

By the time you reach the other side, he’s already taken his skates off and replaced them with sneakers, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down as he watches you come over. He’s sat toward the end of the bleachers and you can sense that his body is ready to get moving.

“I just have to get a few things from the locker room and I’ll be ready to go. Do you want to go back there with me?” He looks toward the lengthy hallway behind him before looking back at you in anticipation. You didn’t go the first day he invited you to the rink out of an abundance of caution, mostly for your own heart’s sake.

You could keep yourself under control watching him collect his things, right?

“Yeah, I’ll go,” You nod decisively. He gets up and leads you through the hallway until you arrive at a private locker room, the door is adorned with a small nameplate with his name on it. He downplays how fancy it actually is, but it feels like a miniature hotel suite. In addition to the dressing room itself, it also contains a full private bathroom and sizable closet.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, looking around the room and taking in the full scope of it.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” He adds. You’re still looking around and trying not to touch anything in fear of breaking something.

You turn around to voice your opinions, but you notice something else.

Joshua is shirtless. You weren’t exactly objectifying him, but it was definitely hard to not look at him. He’s taking a moment to wipe off the sweat across his chest, it feels a bit pornographic to keep looking at that point. The next time you look, he thankfully has a shirt on so your cheeks can stop fully burning at the sight of him.

He doesn’t notice your stare, but you do observe the shirts that fall to the floor when Joshua accidentally knocks his duffel bag onto the ground.

“I’ve got it,” You chirp, already reaching down to pick everything up.

“It’s okay,” Joshua hurriedly shoulders the bag back onto the bench, double checking that it’s not hanging off precariously like last time.

Your heads both come up at the same time, your faces only a few inches away from each other.

“Are you gonna move?” You inquire quietly. He stares back, obviously in no rush to fold. His glance is tempting, everything about him is tempting.

“Do you want me to move?” He counters.

Shit.

You didn’t want him to at all, the idea of him walking away makes you want to scream. The tension has been mounting the past few days whether you wanted to admit it or not. At first, you chalked it up to him just being a gentleman, but there was always a hint of something else there. His politeness toward his staff was completely different to the kindness he offered you.

The lingering glances on you when he’s cooking, his particularly fond smiles while you talk about something, and the soft touches all add up in your brain.

Now that you were in a different setting, it was crystal clear to you. If there was ever a sign, this was it.

“No,” You shake your head.

“Can I?” He asks and your heart has already melted into a puddle. No one ever asks you for a kiss. You’re not sure if you would’ve rejected him to begin with, but the tenderness leaves you enthralled.

You nod and he meets your lips with ease. He tastes better than you could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take long for you to move further into the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth. He accepts you and naturally picks up the pace, capturing your lips over and over again leaving you few chances to catch your breath.

“Shit,” You step back first and he’s clearly confused.

“Are you ok? We don’t have to do this,” His voice is far too worried for what you’re actually thinking about, poor thing.

“No, I’m fine, I just remembered that I didn’t get to interview you,” You pout. You genuinely feel guilty for not mentioning it before the lust took over your mind, but it still needed to get off your chest.

“That’s okay, we can just do it here,” He reassures you with a nod.

“No,” you caress his arm, “not here.”

It clicks once you start running your hand up and down his bicep, eventually resting your palm on the side of his neck. The gesture is enough to make him arrange his bag faster than you’ve seen him move the entire trip.

—

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Joshua moans into your ear, momentarily taking his lips off yours to catch his breath. You can’t even form sentences at this point, only quiet moans that show your dissolving restraint. He can tell you’re getting tired of holding back too, in fact it seems to bother him quite a bit.

“I wanna hear you,” He whispers again, he suddenly nips your ear in retaliation for being quiet.

It forces a whiny moan out of your throat, it’s embarrassing to bend so easily to him but his quiet humming on your neck is enough indication to you that he’s satisfied.

He insisted on driving you both home and for good reason, he was so helplessly horny that he couldn’t keep his hand off your thigh for the entire drive home. You felt him snake his hand underneath your skirt, but he didn’t go much further than that, his thumb idly rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

The moment you both walked inside the house, Joshua couldn’t contain himself at all against your lips, thus you were barely standing up against the door.

“Josh, please,” you breathe out. Your voice is weak, you can’t even pretend to have your guard up anymore.

“What’s up?” He barely gets it out before his lips are on yours again. You whimper into the kiss again, tapping your hands against his chest to get his attention. You manage to pull away to speak up.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna fuck me against the door,” You pant, looking up at him with a smirk.

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head to look at you intently. You almost think he’s angry until he suddenly picks you up bridal style, ignoring your startled scream with a smile.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom and tosses you on the bed lightly, you lean back onto your elbows as he inches closer to you.

“You’re so fucking impatient, you know that?” He giggles at you, hands slowly prying open your thighs with gentle hands. You try not to hold your breath in anticipation, but the touch of his fingertips against your skin is already driving you insane.

“You made us rush home because you swore that you needed to get more material for the interview,” He speaks in a low tone, sliding his hands underneath your skirt again, but his hands stop at your hips, massaging the fabric of your underwear.

“I did, I mean, I do,” You stutter out, making eye contact with him. He laughs at your attempt to be coherent and hooks his fingers under both sides of your underwear. He decides to slip the entirety of his hands underneath, seizing your hips with outstretched palms. He yanks you down the bed in one swift movement, making you gasp.

“You kept teasing me with this skirt, ignoring me and acting like you weren’t already soaked for me back at the rink,” He palms the front of your cunt, confirming how desperate you’ve been for him. It makes you shudder and squeeze your eyes closed.

“No no no, baby, keep your eyes open. You’re gonna interview me right now,” He nods at you and your heart drops to your stomach. You’re already somewhat close to cumming, you’re convinced that a single touch to your clit would send you over the edge.

How the hell were you meant to interview him like this?

“Fuck,” You whine, hips already lifting off the bed to gain more friction.

“I know, honey, you have to focus. Can you do that or do you need my cock that badly?” He teases you with lustful eyes and you clench your jaw. You’re determined to prove him wrong, so you put your energy into contemplating a question to start with.

“I can focus, asshole,” You begrudgingly shift your hips to give him better access. You shake your head and come up with a question on the spot, eyes trained on his expectantly.

“What’s a common misconception about your public persona that you hate?” Your voice holds steady and he slides your underwear off quickly.

He hums to himself for a moment, deciding to graze a finger lazily against your folds. “I’m not a people pleaser or a pushover. People think me being a gentleman means I take all kinds of shit, but I don’t,” He slips two fingers into your core, a light smile plays on his lips when he feels you clench around him.

“So you think people in the industry look down on you for that?” You hear your voice lilt for a second as he finds a steady rhythm, curling his fingers instinctively. Your hips are rocking subtly and he clocks this immediately, he moves to cage you between his legs.

“I know they do,” He confirms with a lift of his eyebrows, “especially when I was younger. It fucked with my mentality a lot, but I know better now,” He adds when he sees your pout. He moves up to your chest, tugging your shirt up slightly. He moves back to let you take off your top and bra, but his fingers are still expertly moving inside your walls. The sound of your wetness is absolutely stealing your focus, especially when Joshua decides to force his fingers inside you even harder with low grunts.

He’s an absolute menace, you’re sure of it.

You only nod to his answer, but he disapproves at your silence. “Come on, you know the rules,” He moves up to capture your nipple in his mouth, eliciting soft moans out of you. Your orgasm is definitely on the horizon, the coil in the pit of your stomach is tightening with every bite to your chest.

“So I assume you channel a lot of frustration into your-” He hits your g-spot particularly hard, you let out a strangled cry that forces a tear down your cheek. You clamp a hand over your mouth, but Joshua is already pushing it off your face to leave a peck on your lips.

“Your skating, shit,” You whisper, you force his head back down to meet your lips in a heated kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth with no hesitation and he returns the kiss just as eagerly. He pulls back after a few seconds and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“Definitely. People can say whatever they want about me, but I know I’m talented. I don’t have to resort to making shit up about my competitors to compensate for a lack of talent,” He laughs at the idea of being that desperate for attention. It makes your walls flutter around his fingers.

“You like it when I hype myself up, huh?” You watch him move to the crook of your neck, biting down hard on an exposed part of your skin.

“Yes, yes yes,” You slur out, eyes fluttering shut. He giggles at your temporary lack of attention before kissing across your jaw. He retreats back down to your thighs again, placing a finger against your clit.

“One more question and you can cum, I promise,” He nods at you and you return it after a moment, but it’s going to be an uphill battle to arrange your mushy brain into a proper thought.

“Do you think you’re the best figure skater in the world?” You sigh into the air, eyes rolling to the back of your head in frustration. It’s an absolutely loaded question, but you know his ego is massive right now since you’re in the palm of his hands.

His fingers still, the pressure remains deep in your core and he runs his free hand through his hair. The whole act would be far sexier than it already is if you weren’t seconds away from covering his fingers in cum.

He laughs quietly before speaking up again. “I do. We both know I am,” His voice is far too cocky for his own good. His stare is stone cold, he holds so much control over you that it’s almost unbearable.

“Now cum,” His nonchalance sends you over the edge instantly. Your high pitched moan goes completely silent, your mouth agape while your neck tilts back in an effort to regain control. Joshua slips his fingers out and moves up to your face, pressing them gently on your bottom lip. You suck them off immediately and watch him coo at you. “Good job, baby. Ready for anything else?”

“Can I take a nap?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, heart full of malice for his unexpectedly great oral skills, yet he’s still smitten with you.

Honestly, Joshua Hong was always gonna be great in bed. It’s not like you didn’t fantasize about having sex with him over the years, but you didn’t expect the prophecy to fulfill itself this easily.

Somehow, he got you all whiny and pliant when you didn’t expect it at all. It was annoying how well he could please you. You were slightly tired, but you didn’t want him to be a cocky shit on top of you again just yet. You needed to recover.

“Sure,” He finally got off the bed, presumably to help you clean up and your suspicions were correct when he returned a minute later with a damp washcloth. You started to sit up, but he made you lie down again.

Who were you to fight Joshua when he offered to tend to your shaking thighs and messy cunt? It was the least he could do after making you work for your orgasm.

—

The next morning, you’re shocked that Joshua is in bed next to you. He was always up and moving pretty early, deep into his morning routine while you were barely conscious.

You, on the other hand, were trying to treat this week partially as a vacation. When Joshua wanted to bring you along to his private schedules, you were still insistent on taking your time to get ready, much to his dismay.

Thus, you were grateful that he could actually slow down for one day while you were here. As your eyes adjusted to the sunlight filtering through the curtains, you realized this was the rest day placed onto his schedule for the week.

You look over to his sleeping form and realize that you’re deeply entangled with his body. Although you’re lying flat on your back, his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. You don’t dare to move your arms or legs though, as his body keeps you essentially trapped into place next to him.

Your minimal movements still stir him awake.

“Hi,” you whisper. He’s still forcing himself into consciousness, but he waves at you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, silently waking each other up with random touches on each other’s face or arms.

“We had sex three times last night, correct?” You ask out of the blue. He’s visibly confused at your sudden line of questioning.

“Not even a good morning?” He mutters, letting out a big yawn immediately after.

“No. I wanna know because I know you remember.”

“After that first part? I’m pretty sure it was three,” His voice is slightly hesitant, but you trust his answer considering he was dominant the entire time. You also wanted to know because it was becoming increasingly harder to deny how much you like him.

You have to admit, it was nice being able to have him like this, to watch him rub the sleep out of his eyes and cuddle without questioning if he wanted you back. He clearly did, even if his pride wouldn’t let himself say it. It was a matter of who would crack first, now that you’ve established the fact that you have undeniable sexual chemistry.

“How did you get me to go three more times?” This question is especially pertinent now that your muscles felt the aches to match that number. You can barely sit up against the headboard without wincing.

“You asked me to,” He put his hands up in defense.

You now remember that you did ask to keep going. The first time was standard, being called a cockslut during the second round made you go feral enough for a third, and the absolute filth of the last round knocked you out completely.

You were fucked, considering that you didn’t want to have sex with anyone else but only had access to said person for a few more days.

“Right,” You sigh.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“I’m gonna edit the article a bit, I’ve been putting it off. What about you?”

“Chores. I need to get a lot of things done, but remind me to run you a bath at some point today. Your muscles hurt, right?” He’s already out of the bed, stretching his arms above his head.

“Yeah, but I don’t-”

“No, I’m running you a bath. Us, technically since my muscles hurt too,” He raises his eyebrows at the thought of pampering himself, but he’s still insistent on the idea.

“Fine,” You bite back the rest of your response and he picks up on it immediately.

“No rebuttal?”

“No,” You pout, jutting your lip out to garner some kind of sympathy. He falls for it, approaching the bed again.

He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips, his mouth naturally moving up to kiss your cheek as well.

“I promise it’ll be worth it, you’ll feel a lot better,” He softens his delivery for you and it barely hurts once he pulls away. He’s had that effect on you lately, his affection so irresistible that even the worst news has a slightly sweet aftertaste coming from him.

“Come on,” He taps his side of the bed to coax you up, and you slowly follow him.

The encouragement works though, as you’re both propelled into a productive afternoon. Joshua gets all of his chores done, somehow doing three loads of laundry and other assorted tasks while you’re editing.

Meanwhile, you’re firmly planted on the couch, trying to make the interview sound cohesive. You don't need to fully edit while you’re on the trip, that’s not even possible with what you have, but you wouldn’t feel right just leaving the entire process until you arrived home.

Joshua gives you an adequate amount of space, only stopping you to make sure you ate lunch or took a break from looking at your laptop screen.

They were welcome distractions, truly. If the process of trying to capture Joshua accurately in the article didn’t make any sense, it was nice to know the real Joshua was somewhere flitting around the house doing the dishes or vacuuming the living room.

Plus, it was nice to paint domestic scenes about him in your mind.

Joshua doesn’t take breaks much at all, this has been true for his entire career. He’s always competing, always performing, always doing someone a favor by being a guest of honor or special performer. It was nice to see him just exist, to fret over if he had enough laundry detergent for his next load and watch him sort his white clothes from his colorful wardrobe.

You wonder if these moments add up for him too, if he craves this kind of quiet domesticity at times.

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

“Can we take a bath now? Is it a bad time?” He worries, but you’re ready to pause.

“No, I’m ready,” You confirm. He helps you off the couch with a steady hand. You walk side by side on the way up the staircase this time, arms linked with hands untouched.

His master bathroom is just as simplistically ornate as you figured it would be. The bathtub overlooks the backyard, displaying a gorgeous view of the city skyline right above the trees.

The sun was about to set, so the view was even more picturesque than you could’ve imagined.

Throughout the day, your aches have been pressing at the back of your brain, interrupting your thought process multiple times, so much so that you don’t know why you fought him against this in the first place.

He opts for picking the right temperature for the water while he leaves you to pick out a calming scent to include in the bath.

You pick an expensive looking lavender bubble bath and he smiles when you place the bottle in his hands.

“I’ve been meaning to use this one, actually,” His eyes light up.

“Sure you have,” You sit down next to him, placing your head on his shoulder. You both observe the water slowly filling up the tub, he silently squeezes the bottle under the running water before retreating once the bubbles start to spread throughout the surface.

You both sit in silence just watching the water fill up, the sound of the faucet echoing throughout the room. Once the tub becomes noticeably fuller, he adds more bubble bath until the top is visibly covered with bubbles.

He insists on getting in first, stripping his clothes easily before settling into the tub slowly. You can already see the tension leave his muscles, especially on his face. His jaw loosens and he takes a deep breath.

He opens one eye and giggles when he sees you hesitate to enter. “Come on, I don’t bite,” He reassures you.

You move to take your clothes off in a few quick movements. He watches you with adoration, as if he’s never seen you naked before and he’d like to take it all in for a moment. Stepping into the tub isn’t too difficult, but when he suddenly pulls your waist down, the splashing startles you.

“Josh, you’re gonna get water everywhere,” you whine.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, remember?” He pulls you flush against his chest. He punctuates his question with kisses behind your ear.

Right. You force yourself to take a breath and settle into his skin.

You know your skin is littered with light bruises from the night before and he seems to notice this, his hand silently tracing over the red marks before stopping near your collarbone.

Once he stops moving and you stop overthinking, the silence is perfect.

It’s not entirely silent, there’s still the hum of the overhead fan creating ambiance, but the dim lights pull you into the fantasy of it all.

You realize that you haven’t felt this peaceful in a long time. Perhaps it’s his presence or the fact that you haven’t sat in silence on your own in so long, but you want it more often.

You want him to envelop your life with his gentle reminders and caring gazes, silently telling you that there’s no point in working yourself to death if there’s no life for you to live outside of that.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want your career to slow down?”

He sighs so deeply that you feel it in your chest. “Is this off the record?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes. I want to slow down so badly, it feels like my body is fighting back against how much I work sometimes,” His response is slightly pained, adjusting his body underneath you.

You pause for a few moments before speaking up again. “What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t-,” He hesitates.

“It’s okay,” Your voice mirrors the softness that he’s given you throughout the day. He gathers his thoughts for a second before trying again.

“I don’t know who I am as a person if I don’t work. This has been my entire life, if I get a few days to myself I feel like I’m going insane,” He sounds so tired of keeping up the charade, tired of being everyone’s perfect gentleman, just tired of it all.

“Have you told your team?”

“Yeah. After this Olympics cycle, I’m pulling back. I need to before it’s too late, you know?”

“Absolutely. I don’t want you to burn out even more.”

“I’ve been burnt out for ages, so what’s a little bit longer,” He chuckles bitterly. It felt like a poor response the moment you said it, but something in you hoped it wasn’t wrong to be concerned.

“So you’re gonna do the charity skate tomorrow even though you’re burnt out,” You predict.

“I mean, yeah, the skating itself isn’t the problem. I love performing, I’m just not built to keep going without consistent breaks anymore,” He reasoned.

It made complete sense knowing how quickly his career ascended once he entered the elite circuit. He hasn’t left the top 10 of the World Standings since his first full elite competition season which is incredibly hard for anyone to keep up throughout their career.

It’s no wonder that he’s tired of keeping an unmanageable pace.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You don’t know what else to say. What could you even tell him?

“Please, it’s not your fault.”

“Do you want me to put this in the interview? Or just write some filler paragraph about it?” You giggle through the last question and he's amused as well.

“Filler, please. I’m confident you won’t make me sound like a dick,” He plants a kiss on your cheek as a silent thank you.

“I promise I won’t.”

“I am excited for the show tomorrow though,” He shifts the conversation and it’s a welcome change.

“Anything fun planned for your number?” You asked.

From what you’ve read, Joshua’s rink held the annual charity skate event in order to honor the professional skaters who train in their facilities, allowing them space to perform routines that they may not have had the chance to otherwise. Notoriously, skaters were extremely flashy with their songs and costumes since there was significant creative freedom.

“Not really, it’s nostalgic of my old numbers.”

“Will I remember it?”

“Definitely, it made your ranking of my best performances forever ago,” His laugh vibrates through your body.

“That list definitely holds up, by the way,” You defend your teenage choices blindly, you definitely hadn’t seen it since you posted it, but it’s nice that he actually remembered some of the content you posted.

“I know you’ll love it,” He presses a long kiss on your cheek once again, but lingers against your face this time.

You’re back to silence again for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” You apologized. You can sense that he’s already shaking his head no at your words before you can finish your sentence.

“It’s just as much my fault as it’s yours.”

“You know I was avoiding you, though,” You clarified.

“I noticed that,” You could tell that he was smiling through the response, it makes your cheeks burn.

“I was definitely doing the same though,” He immediately follows it up. In all honesty, it was a relief that both of you decided to bury yourselves in shaping your respective careers. You were unintentionally coping in the same ways, silently hoping the other person was making better choices.

Alas, you were too similar for that to be true.

“But you know what?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really proud of you. I haven’t told you that enough and I feel terrible. I should’ve been there for you,” he replies earnestly.

After all this time, he was proud of you. In retrospect, you thought you were too obsessive or had unintentionally crossed his boundaries as a fan. Yet, that was never the case. He was always grateful that you supported him at every turn, so why wouldn’t he return that gratitude to you?

You didn’t need his validation, the initial interview all those years ago was enough to satisfy you a million times over, but he needed to express it.

You were eternally grateful that he acted on that need.

However, that last part of the confession urges you to sit up completely. You turn your body as much as possible to face him without splashing the water too much.

“You were there for me.”

“Leaving comments on your Instagram is not supporting you in the way you need, you know that,” He counters.

He’s right. You adjusted your expectations for Joshua years ago, you weren’t happy with how things were, but you accepted that your communication would always be limited.

You didn’t have the courage to talk to him, you figured things would never change. It wasn’t smart, you wasted far too much time refusing to invest in your relationship simply because of your own cowardice.

It seems he also became content with barely doing enough.

“I’m sorry for doing the same thing.”

“This can be a truce, then. I want us to be closer if you want that,” He holds out his hand and you take it immediately.

“I absolutely want that,” You're grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. “So this means you want to kiss me again?”

“You have a massive hickey on your neck and you don’t think I want to kiss you again?” He’s almost fed up, but that smirk tells you otherwise.

“I’m just making sure,” You lower your head coyly. “Come here, babe,” He beckons you over, but he’s too eager to let you make the entire distance. He captures your lips with ease, placing his hand on your cheek. You steady yourself with your hand on his arm, leaning into the kiss with a sense of urgency.

It’s only a few moments before you pull back. “Josh, the water is so fucking cold,” You laugh through your shivers.

He reaches behind you to open the drain and kisses you again. You can’t help but smile against his lips.

The new uncharted territory you’ve forged with him makes your skin burn with excitement.

—

As soon as you arrive at the backstage area of the rink, Joshua’s whisked away by his stylist and assistants to the dressing room. You’re escorted to a VIP viewing area towards the top of the rink, a lounge with access to multi-view screens and a bird’s eye view of the ice.

Before the show starts, you familiarize yourself with the other figure skaters performing tonight. You’ve heard of all of them to some extent, having watched them in anticipation of Joshua’s performances in the past at invitationals and other competitions. Tonight was no different, as Joshua would be the last skater performing tonight.

The marketing team knew exactly what they were doing with that decision.

There were definitely fans of the other skaters dispersed throughout the stadium, but most people you saw were Joshua fans, carrying slogans and wearing merch with his name on it.

Some people even recognize you on the way up to the VIP section which throws you for a loop. They were mainly shocked that you were even at this kind of event in the first place, but it felt validating to be complimented for something outside of him.

Although the other skaters are highly entertaining to watch, your mind feels ready to see Joshua perform. Their performances are satisfying, but that particular spark is missing. It feels reminiscent of when you’d anxiously stay up to watch livestreams of his performances at 3 am, live updating your followers on the exact time when Joshua would be performing.

It was bittersweet to be able to watch him in person. It’s been years since you’ve watched him perform in the flesh, but the circumstances feel perfectly aligned.

“Performing Every moment of you, please welcome Joshua Hong,” The announcer’s voice booms through the stadium speakers and the stadium erupts into cheers. The sight of him waving to the camera is enough to leave the stadium in shambles, so his steps onto the ice are even more precious.

The pink top was the right choice now that he’s about to perform. He made you pick between a few options earlier in the day, but the sheer sleeves and pastel color match the mood perfectly. His side parted hair is neatly styled and light makeup highlights his soft features. The lighting really does his face justice as he purses his lips slightly, adjusting his head slightly down to enter his starting pose.

He moves a hand onto his heart and tucks his right leg behind his left.

As soon as the music starts, your heart clenches.

He chose this particular song, out of all his older routines. This song was in constant rotation throughout his first elite competition season, you could practically see it in your sleep.

When you watch him, you notice that the routine has barely changed either, the step sequences are just as smooth as you remember with delicate flairs of his new style.

The music is somehow more emotional than you remember, a sign that his artistry evokes such a vivid image that you can only think of him and this particular routine when you hear the song.

The execution of his combination jumps are flawless as always, and the audience agrees with loud applause every time he lands them. It seems as though he doesn’t have to try as he glides around the rink, a dreamy expression paints his face as he visibly connects with the lyrics.

He always transformed into a new character in every routine while still maintaining his own distinct style, it was something you deeply admired about his skating.

Before you know it, the song slowly comes to a close and Joshua stands in that final pose you remember so well, his face settling into a soft smile.

The crowd is absolutely obsessed with him, you look to see that many people were on their feet for a standing ovation. You immediately join in, looking toward his reaction. The cameras capture his shock, he’s pleasantly surprised by all the fanfare. He takes it in for another minute or so, looking up at the people in the stands with appreciative eyes. He finally bows his head and waves before skating off the ice.

When the entire group is called back onstage for final bows and the closing ceremony, he is once again dazzled by how intensely the crowd cheers for him once he’s introduced onstage. It’s precious to watch him try to shake it off with his hands on his face, looking to his fellow performers for a way to avoid the attention. He has always been appreciative of his support, always remaining humble in the face of his popularity constantly growing.

It doesn’t take as long as you expected for him to meet up with you. He asks you to wait in the hallway outside his dressing room, and he soon emerges; he barely lets you get a word out before enveloping you in a hug.

“What did you think?”

“I didn’t think you’d pick that one, honestly!” Your enthusiasm quiets when he kisses you and you suddenly feel acutely aware of the staff around you. He notices your shyness and pulls himself against your ear again.

“We’ll be alone soon, okay? I’m glad you liked it,” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss on the cheek. It made you relax into his touch and hold your hand while you were still in the venue.

Once outside, he lets go to briefly wave at the crowd of his fans before placing his hand on the small of your back.

You hear the gasps when he does it, but you don’t look back at the crowd. The judgment stays in your skin once you’re both escorted into the SUV, even when Joshua’s trying to get your attention with kisses to your hand.

“What are you thinking about, babe?”

“Nothing,” It’s easier to lie in the moment. He eyes you for a bit longer but ultimately doesn't question you any further.

You can’t tell him that everything feels especially temporary now. You know what it’s like to be on the opposite side of it as a fan, the initial feeling of seeing him make contact with a new romantic interest is always shocking. Neither of you owed them anything, you never had to reveal the depth of relationship if that’s what you both wanted.

He says he wants you, but that inevitable “what happens next” conversation hasn’t happened and you’re leaving in the next 48 hours. If there was any time to figure out the definition of your relationship, it was now.

Although the conversation in the bath last night was enlightening, you needed some kind of finality. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for vague promises anymore.

Will he make you a priority when his schedule is about to amp up even more?

If you needed to move on, you’d rather know now before you’re on another 13 hour flight left to your own devices.

—

You’re able to tag along with Joshua to his practice session with his coach on your last full day in town.

Although the conclusion of the trip takes up most of your brain space, it’s still interesting to watch his skating become informed by a new perspective. You couldn’t hear all of the critiques in detail, but it was enough to understand how Joshua’s energy was shaped through their leveled guidance.

He switched from his longtime coach once he broke his ankle, understandably citing that the old coach had pushed him to the point of collapse, no matter how grateful he may have been for his old coach’s support thus far.

The dynamic was far more supportive, you concluded. You were able to get more writing done, but your eyes drift to him more often than not.

He practices intensely for around 6 hours today, still a considerate amount of time considering the other practice days in his schedule. He didn’t appear distracted when you were watching him, but he was clearly eager to be alone with you again. He was practically pulling you into the front door once you arrived at his home.

He leads you upstairs to his bedroom before closing the door quickly.

“Kiss me,” His request is urgent, and you oblige despite feeling hesitant.

It’s best to just kiss him, to enjoy a good thing standing right in front of you while you have it.

He’s showing all his tells that he wants more than just kisses, cradling the back of your head, moaning into your mouth. It all still feels so enticing.

Yet, as always, he seems to notice something’s off before you can. He must notice the tension in your body that you tried your best to will away. He pulls out of the kiss and examines your eyes.

“Are you ok?” He’s slightly panting. You force yourself to close your eyes to steady your nerves.

“No,” you admit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, you know that.” He knows exactly what you mean by the way his shoulders drop. He looks nervous, not sure if he’s about to lose you.

“Why not? What would be so wrong about being with me?” He’s genuinely upset, fighting your answer almost instantly. Therein lies the problem, there’s nothing wrong about dating him as a person. It was simply the logistics that made everything far more complicated than your heart could bear.

“Nothing,” your voice trembles. “It would be great,” A tear falls from your eye and he’s already reaching up to wipe it away. You don’t stop him from touching your face.

“But I can’t be halfway across the world from you, I can’t watch you pretend to love me and then start dating someone else right in front of my face again.”

“You know dating Ara wasn’t my choice, I wouldn’t do that to you again,” His voice is strangely quiet.

Ara was a famous Korean actress who was practically a critic’s darling at this point in her career. She dated Joshua for 4 years, long enough for the Korean public to become absolutely enamored with the idea of them. The concept of Korea’s charming upcoming actress and Korea’s technical skating prince dating each other was obviously popular among netizens, so their sudden breakup was quite shocking.

Their conflicting schedules made it a perfect storm for them to stop speaking to each other.

It all ended very publicly, but somehow Joshua was still beloved in the end. He always was.

At a work gala he was the guest of honor for, he told you that he wanted to be with you over drinks. There were many kisses exchanged in a secluded hallway, promises linger against your skin and you thought they were real.

She was his plus one, but he insisted that they were just friends.

You trusted him, and their relationship was announced a few days later. You were crushed, it made you regret ever thinking you could be more than a fan who simply pushed her luck.

“You stayed with her for 4 years, you loved her,” You persisted.

“No, I didn’t.”

“She said you did,” It bites harder than you expect, but it’s true. There were numerous interviews of her confirming the depths of their relationship. Whenever she mentioned him, there was always long-term commitment implied.

“I promise you I didn’t.” He squares his jaw as he insists on it being false.

“Why did you lie? Why didn’t you just let me down easy? You do it with literally every fan,” You shake your head, knowing exactly what he’s been through. You’ve seen the death threats, ultimatums, and invasive love offers that he’s received over the years. If he could handle that with grace, he could at least give you a proper response.

“You know you mean more to me than that,” He begged.

“If I mean more to you, then you shouldn’t have done it,” You respond. It’s selfish, you know it is.

“You can’t be fucking serious! It was to further my career, you of all people should know that,” He yelled. His voice doesn’t deter you, it simply makes you more determined.

“You could’ve fought back like you’ve done at any other point of your career. You should have fought for me,” You try to yell back but your voice falters again.

“This is me fighting for you, I want you,” He pleaded, moving closer to you out of desperation. Yet, you avoid his eye contact to close your eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” You griped, shaking your head out of frustration. You hate that he’s dodging the question. You’ve seen him fight over much less, you’re not sure why he can’t recognize that he could’ve tried for you.

“You’re fighting me over hypotheticals, shit that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“You had another reason,” You state unremarkably, finally opening your eyes again. It was never a black or white situation, not with him.

“What?”

“You stayed with her for another reason.”

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and internally resets before looking at you again.

“I didn’t want you to feel tied to me. I already knew what people were saying about you because of me, I knew you didn’t want me overshadowing your career. I didn’t want to haunt you,” He seems desperate to make you see his side of it.

“But you did, from the moment I met you. I knew I’d never be able to get over you. I built up a picture of you in my mind for years, and you actually fit it. I was stupid enough to think that my dumb luck would actually let me date you,” You confessed. You lower your head by the time you finish speaking.

He didn’t seem to understand that the dynamic would’ve always been uneven between you, but you were willing to risk it.

“Y/N,” He starts.

“I was fucking devastated that I still needed you,” you interrupt him, “I was doing perfectly fine, but I knew I would regret not doing this interview. I let you in one last time, to see if it’d be different than before, but you’re not ready. You’re still not ready and it was my fault for expecting too much of you.”

The silence is loud, you both have to process all of the feelings stirred up between you.

“I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure if that’s enough.

“Just indulge me for a second, do you love me?” You ask desperately.

He doesn’t speak. He looks torn, as if he wants to but something deep inside himself still hesitated to admit it. It confirms your worst fear, that even when there’s no other obstacles in the way, he can’t be what you need.

You scoff, wiping your face once again.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, I guess,” You walk back to your room and shut the door behind you. You unconsciously listen for any movement outside the door, to see if he would chase after you.

He doesn’t.

He does a variety of tasks in the kitchen, you hear running water and the sound of cabinet doors shutting, but he never approaches the door.

The kitchen light turns off and you hear his bedroom door shut.

You’re honestly glad he left you alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

As you settle into bed, you remember that he wanted to drive you to the airport tomorrow.

You’d rather walk the entire way than let him see you like this.

—

Joshua is an idiot, all things considered.

It was right there, he had the chance to tell you everything and give you his entire heart, but the words were stuck in his throat. He can barely go to sleep that night, but he could at least send you off to the airport the next morning.

It was wishful thinking that the drive would be any less painful, but he could at least fulfill his promise of taking you there. Thus, he doesn’t expect the guest room to be empty when he stumbles out of his room to go make himself breakfast.

He’s suddenly on high alert, thinking of all the things that could’ve possibly happened to you.

His internal monologue stops when he sees a note downstairs on the kitchen counter. He picks it up and curses under his breath.

“Changed my flight, your driver took me to the airport. Thanks again for letting me stay. - Y/N”

The message feels so stiff, it lacks any of your personality. Yet, he couldn’t pity himself for too long, he had to find you.

He had no idea if your flight had already taken off or not, but he at least had a location. Your original flight wasn’t until late afternoon, so he figured you must have been really fed up to change it to a mid-morning flight. The anger you felt transcended your hatred of mornings, and that was enough to really get Joshua moving.

He decided to stick with the clothes he had on to minimize the amount of time in the house. He wasn’t sure if it was smart to buy an impulse ticket for a flight he wasn’t going on, but he did it anyway.

As he sat in his car, he wasn’t sure if he locked the front door, but the adrenaline made him forget altogether.

The drive to the airport was a complete blur, he was certain that he blew through a few just-turned-red lights in an effort to get there. Once he arrives, he is anything but discreet.

He thanks his lucky stars that he gets a short security line so that he can run through the airport to find you. He only stops to check the massive flight board for flights to your city before picking up the pace again, almost running into a few people on the way.

He just had to make it to gate 12.

He spots the gate out of the corner of his eye, almost missing it due to his haste. He scans his eyes quickly across the group of people to see if you could possibly be there.

He’s almost given up on searching for you, but just like the movies, he finds you sitting in the corner wearing that particular writing hoodie.

He knows whatever way he chooses to approach you, it’ll scare you. Yet, he opts for the least terrifying option.

He walks over, taking a small breath before speaking up.

“Hi,” It comes out far too hesitant, but it still gets your attention. You look up at him, evidently confused but annoyance shows up quicker.

“What are you doing here?” You’re not moved at all, he felt like an inconvenience.

“We need to talk. Can I sit with you?” He points to the empty chair and you stare at him for a moment. You quietly oblige, giving a quick nod. You didn’t reject him outright, so that’s a win in his book.

“I’m really sorry about last night. I should’ve told you how I felt,” His voice is hushed so as to not disturb anyone else around you. Most people were sitting further away, but he didn’t want to take any chances. You only look forward, not acknowledging him at all.

“I thought about everything and you were right to be worried. I haven’t shown you that you can trust me to commit,” He continues.

“Whatever you want to do, that’s fine. I just,” He stops his train of thought to take a breath.

“I love you. I should’ve told you the moment you asked me, I should’ve told you the first day you came to town. I always knew,” He finishes with a shaky breath. You both sit in silence for longer than he’d like, but it’s understandable. Your longtime crush lets you down then admits he’s loved you for ages, it’s a lot for anyone to process.

“Joshua?”

He turns to face you. “Yeah?”

“That was corny as fuck,” You let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He’s happy to see you smile for a bit, even if it’s at his expense.

“I know, I just needed to tell you before you left,” He laughs quietly. It covers up the temporary embarrassment he feels. No matter what you tell him, he figures that it was worth it to put everything on the line.

“I forgive you, though. And I love you too,” You smile through the reply and your voice is the softest he’s ever heard it.

The newness of it all makes him blush.

“Still can’t look at me, huh? Do I make you nervous?” He touches your shoulder in a silent plea for you to let him in.

“Fuck off,” You finally make eye contact with him and grab his hand, fingers automatically intertwined with his. You press the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss. The gesture quiets all his lingering fears.

“I’m not relocating for you though, I like my apartment and my job,” You give him a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Plus I told you I’m trying to slow down, remember?” The realization hits your face and it makes him giggle.

“Does that mean you’re moving in with me?”

“It might,” He suggests. He thinks he’s a pretty decent roommate, but he’d change his bad habits in a heartbeat if it meant you were more comfortable.

“Not before the Olympics though. And you’d need to sell the house, right?”

“Yeah. Shit, you’re really getting ahead of me here,” He didn’t really consider all the details yet, especially thinking about how shocked his management team would be at the decision, but he knew you were too good to lose.

He lived enough of his life without you, and it was time to switch things up.

“Just making sure you’re aware of what all of this would mean,” You remind him. It was a completely fair critique considering how many directions his life was currently being pulled in.

“Of course, but I’m coming to visit before I move. Many times,” He’s already mentally planning out a schedule in his head, plotting out weekend getaways and week-long trips just to spend time with you again.

“You won’t have your own room though, sorry,” You sigh in fake concern.

“I think we can make that work,” He assured you with a smile.

“I still can’t believe you bought a fucking plane ticket to get past security to come find me. You’re insane,” You shake your head at him in disbelief.

“Your boyfriend is insane,” He stresses the term, “and it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t let you get away like that.”

You both talk for a while, just drinking in each other’s presence as a new couple. While you’re recounting your metal detector encounters, it hits him that he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again.

Everything keeps getting busier between the two of you, and the possible timeframe of him moving seems further and further away with each passing moment.

He desperately wants to slow everything down in his career immediately, for all of his responsibilities to be taken care of for him.

The boarding process begins and he’s wistful, he didn’t think it would hurt so deeply to let you go home. He pulls you into a tight hug, his head nestled into the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, baby,” His voice wavers.

“Don’t fucking cry, you’ll make me cry,” You whisper, curling into his body even further. It makes him smile despite the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I promise,” He attempts to steady his voice, but it’s no use. The moment he has the love of his life, you’re already leaving.

You lean back and press your lips to his, you move as quickly as time permits. It’s not the kiss he wants, but it’s enough to sate him.

He pulls away first, kissing your cheek before standing back to get a good look at you.

“Now go, they’re about to finish up your section,” He pointed to the gate with a watery laugh, finally wiping his cheeks from the tears.

You wave one last time as your ticket gets scanned and you’re no longer in view.

He’s not ready to go back to an empty house, one without you sitting on the couch bundled up in his blankets, staring at your computer with squinted eyes. He’s not ready to fall asleep without you next to him and wake up the next day knowing you wouldn’t be up until midday.

You’ve worked your way into his life and he can’t picture another second without you in it.

He decides that whenever you’re available to talk on the phone, you would plan his first visit.

That was the only way he could cope with the time and distance that seemed impossible to cross.

—

The Joshua profile is edited and completed in due time, somehow without losing your sanity.

Joshua is always sending you his edits, many of which are rejected the moment he comments them. Yet, you promise him that he can have input on another piece.

Once it’s approved through final edits, the profile is received well, all things considered. While there are unavoidable critiques, it still resonates with fans and writers alike. It goes considerably less viral than your other content with him, but viral nonetheless. It gets another boost in attention when Joshua reveals your relationship to the public exactly two months after it’s posted, and people are now re-examining the profile for signs of love blooming in between the lines.

These recent post-profile interviews he did were keeping you company during your downtime after work. You’d find yourself watching them on your laptop in bed, craving the sound of his voice when he was caught up in practice. He told you to watch this one specifically when it was uploaded though, so you decided to listen to him.

“So we have to talk about your relationship and the article,” The late night host segues into the new topic and Joshua handles it with ease.

“Of course,” He’s nodding along.

“So you fall in love with one of your biggest fans and do this reunion interview after 10 years? What’s the whole story?”

“Well, she’s been a fan of mine for my entire career and we first met when she made this viral blog post about me qualifying for my first Olympics,” He recounts the story for what feels like the millionth time, but you still eat it up every time. He has an exact script that you can almost know how he’ll phrase it.

“We film an interview and that goes even more viral, like 20 million views or something crazy,” He stops to laugh for a moment and the audience laughs along with him.

“We met up a few times over the years, but I finally suggested we do something for the 10 year anniversary of the interview. That’s how it all came together,” He nods with a grin.

“That’s amazing, is there anything you want to tell her?”

He looks directly into the camera and takes a breath. “Just that I miss you and love you very much,” His voice softens and the audience lights up with applause. He blows a kiss to the camera before the host switches topics once again, moving on to more Olympics talk for the rest of the video.

The declaration of love is simple, he’s not the kind of guy to make these big sweeping gestures of love, but it’s more than enough for you. You send him a quick text approving of the video and your heart is extremely full.

He moves in right after the Olympics end, but he’ll have a chance to properly decompress from the competition. The anticipation is enough to almost drive you insane, but the wait will be worth it.

—

The Olympics are a complete blur, as expected. You try to enjoy other events during your time there, but the men’s individual skate is the only thing on your mind. Joshua tried to make things for you as comfortable as possible despite living in the designated Olympic Village. He always complained that he wasn’t able to see you by sending you lots of heartfelt texts, but you teased him that he just needed to focus on competition.

Joshua won the gold medal, as expected by numerous sports networks and prediction experts.

You knew he’d win too, obviously.

Although he performed last in the final group, moving his rank down to 5th before his free skate performance, his final showing put him 10 full points above 2nd place.

Your boyfriend, who has been swept up in podium ceremonies, post-skate interviews, and a celebratory dinner is finally alone with you in your hotel room and you intend to make the most of it.

“Congratulations,” You’re practically yelling in his ear as he smothers you in a hug, clutching the back of your head. He’s free of the costume and makeup from earlier in the night, even his team tracksuit was exchanged for an old shirt and shorts.

“Thank you, baby,” His response is muffled against your shirt. You pull away to admire his face for a moment before leaning in for a deep kiss.

He’s feeling just as desperate as you are, swiping his tongue into your mouth with ease. It’s been so long since you’ve had a chance to just kiss him, let alone see him for more than a few minutes at a time. There were still press circuits and endless events for him to attend, but for a moment he was simply your gold medalist.

You barely come up for air for the next few minutes, getting all of the long distance reunion induced kisses out of your system. You step away to breathe against his neck and collect your thoughts.

“I’m so proud of you, like I was fully sobbing in my seat after the scores.”

“You were?” He questions, eyes widening.

“Of course, you’ve worked so hard to get here after everything. It makes me wanna cry all over again,” You’re so fond that it makes your heart swell for him.

“My poor baby, crying her eyes out over me like the good old days,” He coos.

“Yeah,” You let out a shaky laugh and wiped a stray tear from your eye. There were no ways to describe how it felt to watch the love of your life succeed from so many points of view, in some ways your relationship is a time capsule of your adolescence.

Joshua is simultaneously the object of your youth and the promise of a better future.

The journey is never lost on you, all of the time spent learning each other all over again reinvigorated your spirit.

“I’m ready to go home with you, I’m just so tired,” He whispers. The collective stress of the past few years is catching up with him now that the hardest part is over, that sense of normalcy needed to come sooner rather than later.

“I know, love. Just a few more days and we can sleep in as much as we want,” You think out loud, but he seems to like the idea as you cup his face in your hands. The tension melts from his face the longer you stay still and he lets out a quiet hum.

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” You would’ve wanted to do it anyway, but you couldn’t say no to him in this state.

Once you both crawled onto the bed, he naturally put his head on your chest. It doesn’t take long before you’ve both fully relaxed into each other’s touch. The silence is needed after nonstop stimulation from the outside world.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He doesn’t hesitate this time, it's saturated with adoration for you. You feel the warmth on your cheeks and respond accordingly.

“I love you too.”

He sits up, staring at you with so much love in his eyes. He kisses you just to do it, but it’s perfectly fine by you.

You swear that you could live in this moment forever. There would always be deadlines approaching, endless amounts of work waiting for you, but these moments were too precious to take for granted.

There’s so much love for him in your body that it doesn’t know where to go, but you figure that you’ll find somewhere to place it within due time.

There’s no use in grieving wasted time when his love is nestled so neatly in your heart, allowing you to indulge in the infinite futures you’re able to build together.

He’s not going anywhere, there’s still time.

There will always be time.

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

How do you think Carmy's mom would react to meeting you (in any AU)?

great question i'd love to tell you my thoughts

willow and aurora's mom, aka bedtime kisses au (reader is a journalist in this au pre-kids) - i can view her being kind of hesitant. carmen is her baby boy, she's not sure any woman will be good enough for him. you and him met while you were a journalist, and she just doesn't think that's a suitable career. "the news is so messy." she'd comment as you sit down for dinner with her. once you and carmen get married have willow, i think she warms up a little. she'd criticize your timing of having your daughter, naturally, but she sees how much you care for her son. regardless she still doesn't accept you?? it's like a passive aggressive thing in my mind

richie's younger sister, aka "i dont have a name for this au" - okay, i've said this before, donna does not like the fact that you (richie's younger sister) and carmen (her son) are dating. mikey and richie were close, and she thinks you're obsessed with her family for dating her dead son's brother. "you can't be serious.." is the literal thing she says when carmen makes mention of you and him dating. he wants you two to meet, but he always warns you: it won't end well. so you and him attend few events together (he'll still go to family dinners and bring you along, and she behaves *up until certain parts of the evening depending on varying factors like alcohol, conversation, the guest list, etc* for the most part) but you don't go to certain family gatherings with him. i imagine donna likes to do something for mikey's birthday and you stay away from that. you comfort carm and richie, of course, but you stay away from that.

adoptive mom!reader, aka my sadie bug au - i think this is one where donna does like you. carmy taking in mikey's daughter was a huge topic in the family for a long time (with few family members supporting it because they don't think carm's a good enough caretaker to take sadie in), but as soon as you come along? they love you. she tells you she appreciates you treating her grandchild with such care, and thanks you for bringing a smile to her son's face. "mikey would just love you." she tells you often, and you thank her everytime. "you raised wonderful children, mrs. berzatto, i'm just happy that sadie and carmy are happy."

if i missed any please lmk! i think this is all of them<3

[hazbinhotel-bitch]

The Day They Met: Alastor x (Name)

(Name) was in front of this rundown Hotel that was sad looking in her own personal opinion; sad in the sense that this was meant to be owned by Lucifer's daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The over all consensus to a lot of demons and sinners not many took Charlie serious due to unusual kindhearted nature that she always had. (Name) was here to see if this place was worth trashing down with her articles that so many people bought or to just leave it alone and let nature takes it course. In all honesty she though this concept of allowing sinners and demon a second chance was a rather interesting concept, refreshing really, and she was interested to seeing if the cause would even work down in hell. Demons are not easy to convince especially those who have been here for decades an dare so accustomed to their evil doings, that the idea of being redeem are useless. Although (Name) is considered a newer demon with a mortal soul.

(Name) knocked on the door waiting at door inspecting her claws as she waited. She could hear the sound of yelling and glass smashing and a bomb going off. To say the least the first impressions was not look good; it was starting to look like this place was a lost cause for sure. The door opened wide to see a disheveled demoness with a forced smile.

"H-Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, the hotel to the road of redemption" The blonde demoness attempted to sound happy.

(Name) stood there with a blank expression as she saw a small petit cyclops demon being thrown across the room and smashing into something like glass. The blonde demoness' eye twitched in stress as her smile started to falter. (Name) couldn't help but feel a little bit of pity for the princess of hell.

"It's road to something" (Name) said forcing a pitied smile as the blonde demoness slumped in defeat. "It's not that bad... You are dealing with Demons and Sinners alike, you can't expect everyone to behave"

(Name) attempted to be a little encouraging. It was just sad to see someone fail so miserably, so she felt bad and her humanity was still intact so she felt like she should be somewhat encouraging towards Charlie Morningstar the princess of hell.

"I.... I guess" the demoness said with awkward smile "Anyway, Please come in! Let me show you around!"

The demoness seemed in higher spirit as she grabbed (Name)'s arm and pulled her into the hotel building. (Name) allowed Charlie to drag her around. As Charlie started info dump what the Hazbin Hotel was all about that was when they they stopped by a man that (Name) knew all too well... It was Alastor the Radio Demon and Overlord.

(Name) watched him as he approached Charlie. Using his radio cane to push (Name) away from the princess of hell, his red eyes were twitching with annoyance. (Name) held her expression to be neutral even though she felt rather intimidated by the man. He was an Overlord that had a rather fearful reputation and backstory, he was defiantly not a demon lord to make enemies with.

"And who might you be, darling?" he stated arching a pointed brow as he looked own at the stranger "and why are you here?"

"(Name)… I'm just passing by" she stated as she smiled politely as her eyes glance at Charlie briefly "I'm what you call a new soul here to Hell... I am simply looking for a second chance"

Alastor didn't seem convinced as he started at her with slight suspicion while Charlie over took the conversation with unbearable optimism as she talked (Name)'s ear off about how start her road to redemption. Alastor cleared his throat and raised his brows as he held his signature smile as he stared (Name) down.

"You said your name was (Name)… correct?"

She nodded

"...That name is rather familiar..." he said tapping a finger to his chin as he leaned forward to tower over her for intimidation "You're that Sly Fox journalist that has been causing some discourse in the other districts"

His smile got bigger. She felt a little intimated so her smile wavered a little as visually straighten her shoulders a little as let out a soft chuckle.

"Well... Only because I have to make a living somehow while I'm here in hell. I simply report the truth, that has never changed in my morals... Now if some people are not tough enough to face the truth than they deserve what they get" she stated as she flicked an eyebrow up.

"I see... so let me ask you again Little Fox... Why are you here?" he said as started to show some of his demonic abilities "and I doubt it for redemption"

(Name) stared at him and scoffed a little as she tried to cover the intimidation she felt with fake confidence.

"You are correct... I am simply here to write an article"

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Next chapter: Here

[silvershiningtarot]

PAC 18+: Describe To Your FS ❤️💐👄❤️

Disclaimer: This is about how your FS is as a person and what they gonna be like with you on Valentine's Day as well. This is part 1 and I'll be making a mood board with you and your FS on Valentine's Day.

Pile 1: Ahh, I see that your Spouse can be a Bard like someone who tells great stories. They can be singing at bars. Singing stories about legends like their great-grandfather told them about growing up. If that makes sense. Okay, for some of you, I think that your FS used to have an addiction. They probably were drinking a lot. I can see alcoholism they were drinking all day. Being drunk all day. Passing out a lot. I hear “turn the life around.” so maybe, They are trying to turn their life around. So they are a security guard that probably works the higher top security. Maybe, they guard the white house or they can be a patrol officer. They can be your protector. Awe, I'm hearing “people trust them.” Your Spouse likes to go to the farm. They probably like to go land on a farm and maybe, that’s their sanctuary. They can be a father or I heard “A father figure.” whether they are a father or not they want to have their family. See! I was right paternal authority! They could be watching a child or took in a family member's kid. They can be a repairman. They like to fix things. I heard they know how to improvise. So they know how to fix things. Like remotes, etc. Oh, I think your FS is learning how to channel their powers. They probably are strong manifestors. Wow, I can feel that they are. They must've been powerful in a past life. So they know how to work their magic or learning how too.

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Pile 2: Wow, your FS can be a writer and they tell great stories. They could be an author. Maybe, they probably want to publish their book. I can see them having a conversation with you about their books. “You read my book before. Can I show you what I'm writing?” they remind me of Hardy from After If You Guys ever Watch That Movie before. That's what your Spouse is like. In a sense. They are just great storytellers. For some of you, I think that your FS is a journalist too. Again, writing must be important to them. Aww! They could be the type of person who likes to question people. They can be a reporter or probably get a promotion at their job. Oh yeah, they could be a butcher! Sometimes they can be a bit cruel. I am hearing “attitude.” so they could have a big attitude problem. Or they have this serious face that not a lot of people fuck with them. They might be a hunter, I feel as if your FS has this hunter mentality. They can be a stalker like stalking you on social media or hiding behind your brushes and you wouldn't know if it was them. Weird huh! But I'm seeing it healthily. Oh wow, I think some of y'all FS could be dangerous man what I mean is that they know how to fight dangerously. Yes, it is a turn but they got some fucking skills that are like oh, damn! Haha 😂. Anyway, sometimes your FS can be impulsive and ignorant at times. They are fucking foolish sometimes. So of course, they pissed people off because they do things sometimes without thinking. I feel that's who they are. I can hear them say “That's me who I am I ain't changing for nobody.” oh yeah, so your FS might be older than you. I mean older than you! So they will come off “Oh yeah, I know much more than you do.” Ugh, that kind of people irritated me. So yeah, they'll feel like they had more experience than you. I feel some of them can be traditional too.