#forcing them to be on a team together for the same reason

[rainrot4me]

Who is each person's best friend in your opinion? There are the obvious ones, like Masky and Hoodie, but who is the best friend out of EJ, Toby, Cody, etc...

✦ . JEFF THE KILLER & EYELESS JACK

Eyeless Jack’s closest connection is Jeff, though it is in no way a healthy friendship. Jack is drawn to Jeff’s chaos—his unfiltered violence, his disregard for consequence, his wildness. There’s something deeply liberating for Jack about being around someone who never second-guesses their own monstrous side, because Jack is constantly battling his own hunger and shame. Jeff makes him feel less alone in being monstrous.

But at the same time, Jeff uses Jack—for patching up wounds, for an audience to his twisted jokes, for someone to witness him without trying to change him. Jack obliges, because Jeff’s manic energy is addicting, almost like a living drug. Jeff’s blood-soaked brand of nihilism gives Jack something to feed on emotionally, and Jack’s clinical, methodical presence helps Jeff feel sane by comparison.

It’s a mutual parasitism: Jeff takes advantage of Jack’s skill set and quiet tolerance, Jack takes advantage of Jeff’s raw, fearless violence to justify his own urges.

They enable each other’s worst instincts while pretending they’re doing each other a favor. So yes, best friends, but in the worst way—a bond formed on shared rot, rather than shared healing.

✦ . TICCI TOBY & X-VIRUS

They’re each other’s outlet. Cody is more calculating, more cold, whereas Toby is impulsive and rough around the edges. Cody loves Toby’s recklessness because it gives him someone to provoke, to push, to manipulate when he’s bored. Toby, meanwhile, feels a weird kinship with Cody’s off-kilter sense of humor—Cody doesn’t treat him like he’s broken or pitiful, which is rare. He teases him, challenges him, sees him, even if it’s in a messed-up way.

Toby’s hyperactivity and Cody’s cunning play off each other beautifully. They egg each other on: Cody will dare Toby to do something stupid, then watch with a grin while Toby goes all-in without thinking, Toby will drag Cody into violent chaos, then expect him to clean up the mess, which Cody does with that smooth, sinister efficiency.

It’s a friendship built on mutual danger—they are drawn together by the thrill of pushing each other to extremes. Cody admires Toby’s unstoppable energy and raw aggression, while Toby feels understood by Cody’s darker intellect. Neither of them feels truly judged by the other, no matter how vile they get, and that is what makes them best friends in their twisted little world.

✦ . MASKY (TIM WRIGHT) & HOODIE (BRIAN THOMAS)

Brian is the quiet, methodical stabilizer, and Tim is the one who might break at any moment. Brian is patient with Tim’s rage, his trauma, his rough edges—he never flinches, never tries to fix him, just knows how to pivot him. Tim, in return, trusts Brian more than he trusts anyone else on the planet. There’s an unspoken loyalty between them, a bond forged in surviving things no one else could even comprehend.

They work like a flawless team. Brian is the eyes, the strategist, the calm: always watching, always anticipating. Tim is the muscle, the bite, the heat: ready to go from 0 to 100 if Brian even blinks the wrong way. When Brian tells him to calm down, he listens; when Tim tells him to move, he moves.

Their friendship is a quiet, solid, lifesaving force. Brian holds Tim together, grounds him in reality, while Tim gives Brian something to protect—a reason to keep going. They don’t really need to talk about it, because the trust runs bone-deep. If someone comes for Tim, they’ll have to go through Brian; if someone hurts Brian, Tim will burn their entire existence to the ground.

They are each other’s best friend, best weapon, and best witness. No one will ever know them the way they know each other. The only problem? They don’t know if it’s all genuine or just The Operator influencing them to hold onto each other.

✦ . KATE THE CHASER & THE PROXIES

Kate doesn’t have a single ride-or-die best friend like Masky and Hoodie do, but instead forms a shifting, flexible dynamic with everyone.

With Tim, there’s a harsh respect: she admires his grit and survival instincts, even if they fight sometimes because he can be a controlling bastard. She gets his trauma, even if she doesn’t coddle him. With Brian, she appreciates his calm, strategic head—they’ll sometimes quietly share intel, comparing mental notes like soldiers in the same trench, no words wasted.

Kate and Toby have a playful, borderline sibling rivalry energy. He tries to get under her skin, and she pretends he can’t—but she’ll still cover his back in a fight, no questions asked. When he’s spiraling, she’ll snap him out of it with a well-placed punch to the jaw instead of a hug.

She floats between them because she’s adaptable, independent, and refuses to fully belong to anyone. That makes her valuable: she can act as the glue when tension flares, the hammer when a message needs to be delivered, or the shield if one of them is in trouble.

Kate is basically their roving enforcer and emotional equalizer—no one’s best friend, but everyone’s trusted ally.

✦ . BEN DROWNED & CONSOLES (sometimes jeff)

Ben’s best friend is, in a way, his consoles and his games. They’re his sanctuary, his loyal company, the only things that never disappoint or try to control him. His corrupted N64 cartridge is like an extension of his soul—if it could talk back, it probably would, and he’d love it for that. Ben treats his games with borderline reverence, maintaining them, modding them, and using them to escape from the chaos of everything else, even his own murderous urges.

But sometimes, Jeff worms his way in as a substitute best friend. It’s messy, chaotic, and definitely a love-hate dynamic. Jeff is loud, bloody, unfiltered, and unpredictable, which feeds Ben’s constant need for stimulation. They’ll get into screaming matches over the dumbest things, pull horrific pranks together, or just sit around insulting each other until they’re laughing. Jeff is one of the only people Ben can talk shit with, without having to hold back, and that makes him feel genuinely seen—in a sick, violent way, they’re cut from the same cloth.

So while Ben’s consoles will always be his number one, Jeff is the friend who sometimes hijacks that spot—crashing on his couch, stealing his snacks, bitching about his problems—until Ben boots him off the metaphorical server again.

✦ . CLOCKWORK & TICCI TOBY

Clockwork’s best friend is Toby, whether either of them will admit it or not. They’ve got a gnarly, tangled history: ex-lovers who broke each other’s hearts, made each other worse, but still orbit each other like it’s inevitable. They share the same nightmares, the same triggers, the same language of violence and rage. It’s why, even after a breakup, she’ll call him first if something goes wrong—and he’ll always pick up, even if he’s halfway through a job.

They’re toxic as hell, but there’s a real friendship under the wreckage: they patch each other up, enable each other’s worst traits, and swap jokes that no one else would find funny. Natalie will roll her eyes at his manic, talkative habits, but she’s the one who taught him how to calm down before missions. Toby might needle her about her obsessive sketches, but he’ll guard them from anyone mocking them.

No matter how many times they say it’s over, they keep finding their way back to one another—as best friends, as ex-lovers, as codependent partners in crime. It’s sick, and twisted, but honest. And on their good days, they’re unstoppable.

✦ . JANE EVERLASTING & NINA THE KILLER

Jane’s best friend is Nina, against every odd in the world. On paper, they should hate each other: Jane’s entire existence is built around destroying Jeff, while Nina practically worships him. It’s an impossible rift—but somehow, they’ve built a bridge over it.

They get each other in ways no one else does. Jane sees through Nina’s delusions about Jeff, recognizes the trauma driving them, and Nina understands Jane’s rage better than anyone. They’ll scream at each other about their differences—about Jeff, about morality, about revenge—but at the end of the day, they’ve still got each other’s backs.

It’s messy as hell. Nina cracks jokes about Jane being Jeff’s “failed final boss,” which earns her a death glare, and Jane calls Nina a brainwashed fangirl right to her face. But they make it work, through some twisted, sisterly sense of solidarity: two women irrevocably changed by death, clinging to the one person who knows exactly what that means.

And in the quiet moments, they take care of each other. Nina will paint Jane’s nails while ranting about glitter gun cases, Jane will patch up Nina’s scrapes without a word. It’s a strange, bittersweet friendship, but one neither of them would ever trade.

✦ . OTHERS

Homicidal Liu honestly doesn’t do best friends, not in the way people usually mean it. He doesn’t let anyone close enough for that title. But he does have people he tolerates—maybe even respects. Liu feels too dangerous, too broken, to get attached to anyone, but if push came to shove, he’d back up Jeff without question. In his eyes, “best friend” is a kid’s term; what matters is who won’t sell you out. That’s the closest he’ll ever come to letting someone in.

Slenderman has no best friend, because the concept is alien to him. He is not human, and human relationships are something he observes rather than experiences. If he could describe anything close to “friendship,” it would be his protectiveness toward his proxies, a kind of cold, strategic guardianship—they are his, and he will shield them from external threats, but that isn’t friendship in the traditional sense. Slender is above those petty, mortal bonds, or at least he believes he is. Still, in some deep, hidden place, he likes watching them laugh and bicker. It’s a faint, ghostly echo of something he can never truly have.

Laughing Jack doesn’t have a best friend either, because trust and connection are things he’s long since warped beyond recognition. He might pretend he does—maybe with Laughing Jill or Candy Pop, in a predatory, parasitic way—but Jack doesn’t believe in real, unconditional friendship. He feeds on others’ fear and adoration, twisting relationships into games. That said, there’s a part of him that yearns for the simplicity of childhood companionship he once had with Isaac. It’s buried, rotted, but it flickers sometimes when he’s alone, remembering what it was like to have someone believe in him. Then he snuffs that memory out, because clowns don’t get friends. Clowns get an audience.

꩜ .ᐟ

[kataraslove]

there’s a reason why the entire story of avatar the last airbender begins and ends with katara. there’s a reason why we are introduced to katara first before we are introduced to any other character. there’s a reason why katara is the narrator. there’s a reason why the creators have emphasized over and over again that katara is just as titular to the story as aang - she’s the other main character.

when you water down katara - remove her compassion, her ability to connect with others, her nurturing role, her ANGER and RAGE and DRIVE - you water down the very fundamentals of the story. you drastically and severely alter the core dynamics of the gaang, because katara was so important to the development of every single one of them. she was the rock and glue that held team avatar together.

katara was unlike any other character to ever appear on television; she was a young brown girl who took no shit from anyone, yet at the same time remained kind and compassionate and nurturing. katara was a force of nature; proud of her heritage and culture, burdened by the responsibility of being the last southern water bender of the water tribe, angered over the death of her mother and everything that the fire nation took from her, determined to help every single person in need, determined to change the world, angry and resentful because old men and rules and laws kept telling her what she could or could not do, thus, she was determined to restructure thousands of years of patriarchy that stood against her from accomplishing her goals and dreams.

watering down katara into at most 2-3 tangible characteristics, stripping her away of all her motivation and agency and nuance, telling the audience that she wants to help and change the world only to have her stand in the background with an air of grief, demonstrates that the writers of the live action fundamentally misunderstand the spirit of avatar. and that’s something so unforgivable. no matter how many changes they decide to make, or how much they decide to stay true to the original story in other areas, no matter how many flashy VFX fight scenes we get - if you fail to properly understand katara, you fail to understand the heart and soul of avatar the last airbender, everything that makes avatar such a timeless classic.

[hello-eden]

Dead on Main time travel with a mom Danny twist.

Jason calls in a favor from someone on the justice league dark team for help with a case that got magical. the person sends him Danny. it goes well. they're both working very professionally. something happens and they end up back in time in their younger bodies.

Both of them are in the same city that they were working the case on. They are far away from home but Jason is 15 a few months before he finds out about his bio mom and Danny at this time is incubating Dan and Ellie's cores.

Neither of them quite realize the repercussions of what's Happening. The two of them team up to try and get back home. What the two of them don't realize is Danny's friends and family have no idea where he is though they are less worried than the bat family who fully believe Jason is kidnapped.

The two of them go on adventure trying to dodge any local heroes or villains. Eventually the two of them are able to get into contact with Clockwork and Clockwork tells them that they have altered this timeline too much for them to go back. 

The two of them angst about that until they have to get forced out of that because they run into a local hero. I want to say one of the Titans that work with Nightwing because then they recognize Jason but have no reason to know that he's missing.

the two of them then realize that because they're in their younger bodies everyone has no idea where they are. This is when Danny realizes that at that age he is incubating Dan and Ellie which makes him try to split off from Jason.

As Danny's trying to figure out a way to tell Jason what's going on Jason realizes that Danny is getting really sick or at least he thinks is really sick. He's getting tired more easily than before and keeps throwing up. Jason originally thought it was due to stress of the situation but it becomes more and more clear that it is not. They end up having a confrontation which leads to Danny telling him that they are basically pregnant. 

Jason tells Danny that they are not leaving them, especially not after everything that happened. The two of them decide together where to go. The two of them end up deciding the only places that they can go are Amity park or Gotham because of the ambient ectoplasm.

They can go to Amity Park except last time Danny was there it was a bad Fenton parents reveal which led to both Dan and Ellie dead with jazz wheelchair bound as well as Sam and Tucker in comas.

 Or

they could go to Gotham except Jason is probably presumed missing. Having Wayne and bat family connection is probably best for them except for Jason having a falling out in the last timeline as well as knowing that he is supposed to be dead in a few weeks. Jason knows that his death is a major turning point for his family as well as many other things in the timeline.

[snail-noodle]

shadow milk cookie x reader headcanons

having the beast of deceit as your lover was not something you had planned to happen in your life. funny how life works, huh?

the main thing you had learned from him was that he's desperate for physical touch. being sealed away for thousands and thousands of years hit him the hardest out of the five beasts.

he wept when you gently cupped his faced the first time. you whispered reassurances as you planted soft kisses on his cheeks, nose, and lips. this man is so touch-starved... please give him a ton of kisses! (he really enjoys it when you place kisses on the scar on his eye)

dark moon magic has a cold-like feeling to it. since shadow milk practically depends on that magic, his entire body is cool to the touch. it's also a reason why he enjoys cuddling you and sleeping with you at all costs! he enjoys basking in your warmth and he makes sure to let you know.

during his imprisonment, he came to realize how much he missed the touch of another. ever since the beasts fell and joined forces, they were never as close as they were before. comforting hugs and gentle touches ceased to exist among them after their fall.

hope you like pranks, because shadow milk enjoys pulling them on you! he finds your reactions so funny and cute <3 his cute little cookie.

when the others are around, the both of you pair up to pull pranks on them as well! the others can only sigh in frustration at the two of you constantly teaming up together to mess with them.

even after his fall, shadow milk enjoys stargazing every night. it calms his raging thoughts and gives him comfort. now that he has you with him, he makes sure to stargaze alongside you whenever you're able to.

if you're ever in danger, he's quick to react and will (usually) be quick to get rid of whatever threat is near you. he hardly even cares if it's a cookie or not, he goes in for the kill and asks questions later.

"shadow milk cookie.. that was just a ball..."

"pfft so?? it was about to hit you!"

out of all the beast cookies, shadow milk is by far the most overprotective and powerful of them all. it both scares you and captivates you at the same time. it gets your heart beating quickly knowing that someone that overpowered cares about your wellbeing.

just as he cares about you, you do the same back to him. he tends to get carried away with learning new spells or spying on others. he sometimes forgets to feed himself or take small breaks when he's focused on something. you always pull him away from his works to get a good rest or to eat the delicious meal you just made <3

he swears he falls in love even more with you every day whenever you do these kind actions for him! he sometimes wonders how he got so lucky to have someone like you around...

[takes1]

your needy Kenma smut was SOOO good omfg I was biting my fist reading it!! can i request a needy suna smut?

needy!suna rintarou x reader

hi!! so glad you liked it!! wow this took me so long i'm so sorry! i just could not find a way to write it without it being exactly the same as kenma's!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / forbidden, established relationship / manager!reader / vocal!suna / whiny!suna / needy!suna / bratty!suna / liiiight mommy kink nobody freak tf out!! / suna has a cute laugh / creampie / raw cuddly sex / 1.9k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines. my request box

"Don't look at me like that, Rin'."

Your fingers were smushing the lower half of his face, angling his head away from you. His head stayed obediently forward at the center court, but those eyes were still piercing through you.

Through his fishy-lips, his words became jumbled together, "'can' helb i'--,"

It wasn't his fault he looked so mean, so critical when he focused in on something.

"I can't help it," He spat, rubbing his jaw.

Suna wasn't careful about his hand placement. The members of Inarizaki knew you had been dating for a time, but Coach Kurosu did not need a reason to question your managerial position.

When you pushed his hand away from your waist, his face scrunched; that mean and bitter look returned, tenfold.

A frustrated, hushed, but not quiet, "I want you."

Though it wasn't an appropriate time, place, or circumstance, it would be lie to say that it wasn't hot. The unique mixture of his assertive, court-like focus and lesser-known bedroom-only begging forced you to cross your arms.

"You-," You glanced around, thankful nobody heard that, "Have a game to focus on."

The attitude he gave was not only unwarranted, but it succeeded in making you less receptive. To you, it was obvious that he was only looking for an out. He was tired and halfway through a challenging match. You couldn't spare to be his partner right now, and he did not like that.

He sucked his teeth, tapped his foot, crossed his arms, worked his jaw, and gave you a sharp sigh, all within five minutes of angry silence.

What a whiny bastard.

You found his struggle almost amusing. At the moment, it was more important to maintain your focus, for the both of you.

Still, it kept you wondering throughout the remainder of the match: What had you possibly done to warrant such a strong response?

Every instance that he had to be around the bench, drinking water, a temporary switch-out, he would send you a deeply dissatisfied glance. You didn't justify it with a reaction. He was being bratty.

Though you were a prude, anti-PDA personality in public, especially around the team-- you were the one to push him back onto the mattress and throw his shirt across the room, once you were back at his place.

"Fuck--mnh!"

That pretty sigh was all he could get out before you were on top of him.

"Start talking," You muttered. Your shirt was off in seconds.

His breathing grew heavy, eyes black with lust at the sight of your pretty skin, his favorite bra he clocked earlier under your shirt- the whole reason his mind got to spinning.

Suna was kept this irritating, calculating, slithery persona up around his friends, and especially during matches, because he learned that it kept him safe. He didn't always like being so on edge. He wanted to trust somebody enough to tell them everything that passed through his mind, to be skin-to-skin and a little weird, because you were comfortable and safe.

Here, under you, after enough love and time, he knew he didn't need to waste energy on appearances.

"I- ah-h, I just wanted you so bad," Was his honest attempt at an explanation.

He sat up to touch you, kiss you, but you kept him to the sheets with a forearm.

"Are you trying to get me kicked out?"

Suna huffed, eyes bouncing from your face, to your confined tits, then back, "What?""

Your legs slid a bit further apart, weight settling better onto his warm lap, "If Coach finds out we're dating, you know I'm gone."

You snapped, just for emphasis, but he flinched, "Like that. In an instant."

He was painfully hard. You could feel him throbbing, even through his combo of athletic shorts and thick sweatpants. Despite the circumstances, you knew he was keen enough to understand that you were a little pissed off about his lack of restraint.

He was in that spot you liked seeing him work through. Struggling, deciding whether to be nice, or snarky.

"You're smarter than that, baby," Was much kinder of a statement in tone, but it tipped him off to be rude, instead.

Those narrowed eyes dripped down to your chest slow, sweet, like honey.

"Why'd you wear that, then?" He felt you stiffen. He placed a hot palm onto your hip to help his well-intentioned venom settle.

You couldn't believe that was his entire problem, summed up in five words.

"Are you really so dirty-minded that you could tell what bra I was wearing? Under my shirt?"

The call-out was meant to return his energy, but he responded in a more secure way than you.

"When it's you, yeah--," He sat up with ease, against your pushing, just to remind you that he could outclass your force if he wanted to. He caught your small frown and he corrected himself, "Yes, ma'am."

You gave a small hum, a low-lidded stare right back at him. He was so hot when he deferred to you.

It warranted a strong, messy kiss- all charged with hours of denial, suggestive glances, and too many minutes of clothed rubbing.

All your clothes came off in a range of easy to difficult, distracted efforts.

Suna lay under you, all flushed and twitchy with anticipation. Your hands flitted down his sensitive, strong sides, his cock crammed between your legs, getting spoiled and slick. Not inside, not just yet.

You loved tickling him just to hear his laugh.

And he'd tolerate anything with you gliding over his dick, like that. Giving him such a good view.

"Shhh-haha-h-ahh!" He bit his lip to keep from giggling, moaning, too much or too loudly.

That look he gave you was enough. All twisted, pleading, intelligent. Like he knew exactly what he said and how he said it, would get you turned on.

His sound was adorable, rare.

It was unrestrained, and light, cute, enough to understand why he kept it behind his hand around his friends. Sounded exactly like something a bunch of guys might make fun of him for.

"Hmm.. Let's cuddle fuck," You pressed a tingly kiss just under his ear.

You knew he was feeling lazy. Your job today wasn't easy, either. You wanted to feel close at the end of a busy day, more than anything.

Suna was warm, and tired, and tacky to the touch but it all added to how badly you wanted each other. It was a demanding match, and getting all upset with each other made it feel that much longer.

Slick, and hot, and easy was the adjustment to him. Nothing to do with his real size- you were just ready, after having to put up an act, as if you were too above all of it.

The panting you had to listen to on the sidelines, watching him miss his mouth with the squeezy bottle, all the sweat and water dripping onto his jersey, it ate at you, corroded the brick walls you put up. Even his frustrated glare was sexy. He couldn't stop looking at you, even with an important task at hand, or when his teammates needed him to focus.

Now he fucked you like your mean -still, justified- rejection was never a problem, like he was savoring you slowly.

"Yes-yes, yesyes," Suna swallowed up your moans in a greedy kiss.

"Mmh- how's that feel--?" You purred.

"So good," A satisfied groan, "Fuck- Got such a perfect pussy."

His hand kept your thigh up, your knee close to your shoulder. He inspired a gasp at how quickly he bottomed out to your teasing.

He stretched you so good, so easily, and kept your trembling steady in his grasp-- but every sound he made was shaky, barely held together, and never masked.

After three months, Suna decided at some point on his own that he could trust you enough to completely let go in the bedroom. Though he naturally gravitated to a more submissive role, he usually said some downright sleazy, vulgar shit to get his kicks.

"A-ha, h-fuc-k, aughh, you feel so good, you--," His breath clipped into a high, closed-mouth whine as he pulled you harder onto the base of his cock, just flexing hard, as deep as he could get.

Your teeth sunk into his pillowcase, fingers filled with plush.

The knowledge that he loved it, but couldn't ever get as deep as he wanted, had your strength waning. Squeezing, bracing, at all the butterflies tired you out.

Although, if it were a competition, Suna had you beat by a mile. The drooling, whiny mess behind you may have had enough to strength to use his body weight to keep you smushed, but you could tell he was sloppier, clumsier, with exhaustion.

He buried his face in your neck.

"I-I'h- needed you so bad," His moan was so light and breathy- like he was swimming on Cloud 9-, "So-h, so... fucking...bad."

Your uncontrollable squirm to get away from the sensation was met with instant crushing. Even if you wanted your thigh back, it would never happen.

"Mh-h-! Rin-," You tried to speak, but he was hitting all your angles just right, so you stopped.

His words were twisting up that knot in your tummy, the trap of his arms a steady, innocent backdrop to how filthy he decided to fuck you.

Slurred mutters, consisting of mostly nonsense syllables and phrases, sometimes bred real messages like, "So hot," "Mommy," "So much," and, "'Can't take it."

His yapping, you thought, may have been a way of making up for how little he spoke, usually. You were generally much quieter than him here, but outside of the bedroom, the opposite remained true. It was cute.

"M'so- close-mh," His groans were short, choked on pleasure, his squeezing desperate and uneven.

The idea of him finishing close, hugging you, just like this, was too hot to let not happen.

You gathered yourself to tell him, "C-um-- Mh, inside, pretty boy."

"F-uck!" That tone completely tipped him over the edge.

Your grin was to yourself, twitchy and genuine, before the feeling of fullness set in.

He was left to fuck out his load as deep inside of you as he could get, "Fuckfu-ck- Ahh-hh-!"

Your nails dragged across his skin- the white hot, pulsing enough to spur a sudden orgasm. Dark lines remained in their wake as your muffled whines filled his ears.

And Suna was nothing if not dedicated. He fucked you as well as he could through your own, whinier, less violent experience. His breath, laden in the resolution of his own, was hot and tingly across your sensitive ear.

You squeezed his arm to stop and he finally let your leg down.

"Hm...sorry," He mumbled into a peck against your cheek, "You okay?"

Sore, and achy, you shared a giggly kiss. He softened naturally and you readjusted to hold each other, warm and soft, with chemical infatuation.

"Mhmm," You stole a longer, slower kiss.

Those pretty eyes watched you, worshipped you, as you rubbed your hand across his jaw.

"Perfect."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

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[helaintoloki]

Safe Space

pairing: avenger!Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader

warnings/notes: themes of ptsd and trauma, violence, mentions of torture, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

a/n: another request piece that was sent in! this took me a while to come up with but i hope you enjoy !

summary: you struggle to return to a life of normalcy after being kidnapped, but Bucky is there to help you pick up the pieces

The morning sunlight that bleeds through the curtains rouses Bucky from his sleep, and the first thing he is greeted with is your loving smile as you gently push his hair back from his face.

“Happy birthday, Sarge,” you coo softly before pressing a kiss to his cheek. Bucky hums tiredly as he stretches out his limbs and shifts to face you in bed.

“Is that today?” He prompts groggily while pulling you into his arms.

“Same day as it was last year, I’m afraid,” you tease softly, giggling at the way he playfully nips your neck in response to your sarcasm.

“Can’t we just treat it like a normal day and stay in bed?” Bucky groans into your neck, relishing in the feel of your warmth against his skin.

“And miss the birthday party Steve worked so hard to put together for you?” You reprimand him with a raised brow. “Not a chance.”

A small huff of amusement leaves Bucky at your comment. After everything he’d been through and all the years he’d lost, he never once thought it necessary to celebrate the time of passage marked by his birthday. Why bother when he’d already missed so many of them? But then he met you, and suddenly Bucky had a reason to look forward to each new day with you by his side. You were patient and understanding of all he’d been through, you never pushed him to do anything he didn’t want to, and you gave him the courage to take charge of his new start as an Avenger.

“Just give me ten more minutes with you and I’ll get up,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he cradles you against his chest. You hum appreciatively at the gesture and entangle your limbs with his own.

“Anything you want,” you murmur, already feeling yourself being lulled back to sleep. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, y/n. More than you could ever imagine.”

Bucky’s solemn gaze has been glued to your photo in his hand ever since Steve took over piloting the quinjet. The edges of the polaroid are frayed from being kept in his vest pocket, but your face remains unscathed and allows your permanently etched smile to haunt his every waking moment.

You’ve been missing for over a month.

It had been a simple assignment that you were more than capable of handling on your own. Fury had assured you it would take no longer than one day to retrieve forgotten files from an abandoned weapons dealer’s warehouse; all you had to go was get in and get out. You had kissed Bucky goodbye before he waved you off, and that had been the last time he’d seen you. Your one-day mission turned into three days, and on day five you’d officially been declared MIA. Your tracker was turned off and no one could reach you, and Bucky was left to grapple with his guilt over your disappearance.

The team had received an anonymous tip with information on your current whereabouts, and without hesitation the Avengers had suited up and made their way to your supposed location. Bucky was restless throughout the entire flight, his only goal being to find you and have you back in his arms once more. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if the tip turned out to be false or, even worse, it had been too late.

A gentle hand on his shoulder breaks Bucky from his contemplative daze as he’s forced to remove his eyes from your photo and look up into the remorseful face of his friend.

“We’re going to find her, Buck,” Steve says resolutely.

“What if we’re too late?” The man utters, agony clear on his features as he looks up at his friend with tears that threaten to fall. “What if this is all for nothing?”

“You can’t talk like that, like there’s no hope,” the blond insists adamantly. “The tip said she’s still alive. That’s gotta be worth something.”

“Sometimes that’s worse,” Bucky murmurs knowingly. A haunted look washes over his features that unnerves Steve, but the Captain isn’t able to discuss the matter further as the team finally makes their arrival to the given coordinates.

The tip had been sent to Fury by a supposed mole from an unnamed terrorist organization. They sought protection in exchange for your whereabouts, and the information led your teammates to a warehouse that had previously been deemed abandoned. No one would have ever thought twice about checking for you here, and that was what made it the prime the location for a secret base.

“We have no idea what we’re up against here,” Steve states as he debriefs the team. “All we know is that y/n is somewhere inside that building, and we’re not leaving here without her. Everyone knows what their job is today.”

Per Steve’s orders, every person is on their own as they spread out across the building and clear the rooms one by one. Bucky’s entire body is frigid with tension as he makes his way down the desolate corridors with his gun raised and his mind on high alert. The soldier is out for blood, heart pounding in his chest and mind frenzied with the endless possibilities of the state he might find you in.

The first few rooms are clear, but it isn’t until he turns the corner that he encounters an unsuspecting guard making rounds through the building. Bucky is on him in an instant, metal arm grabbing him by the throat and hosting him in the air before slamming his body against the wall. The guard’s eyes widen in fear while his fingers desperately claw at the metal arm that slowly crushes his windpipe, but Bucky is unrelenting.

“You have five seconds to tell me where you’re keeping her before I snap your neck,” he all but snarls through gritted teeth. He loosens his hold just enough to allow the man to speak and watches in annoyance as the man takes in spluttering breaths.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” the guard insists desperately before immediately being slammed back against the wall.

“I know you have a woman here against her will. An Avenger,” he reiterates bitterly. A flash of recognition washes over the guard’s face that Bucky is quickly able to detect, and the unease it fills him with causes him to falter on his hold.

“I… I know you,” the guard breathes out shakily much to Bucky’s chagrin. “The Winter Soldier...”

“Shut up!” Bucky barks furiously, prompting a faint smirk to form on the guard’s lips.

“You got away, and they decided to take her in your place. Her torture is your penance for your betrayal.”

“Who took her?!” Bucky demands, fist closing tighter around the man’s neck. His patience is thinning as the seconds drag on, but the man finally manages to give his answer despite the pressure to his throat, and the soldier’s stomach immediately fills with dread.

“Hail Hydra.”

The man dies almost instantaneously as Bucky tosses his body aside, but he can’t find himself bothered enough to care as he’s hit with weight of this new revelation. This wasn’t the work of some amateur villain or low level organization; this was Hydra. Hydra had you in their hold for over a month, and Bucky didn’t have to imagine what horrors you’d endured during your time here. He needed to find you, and he needed to find you now before they had the chance to lay a hand on you again.

He’s on the warpath, taking out guards left and right as he storms through the building in search of you. All he sees is red, his ears ringing from the pressure pounding in his head while his sight tunnels to focus on the mission at hand. No one will stop him, no one can stop him, and it’s for this reason only that he finally finds you.

A single door at the end of the hallway is all the stands between you and him. The neatly organized patient chart that hangs on the doorway bares your name, but Bucky doesn’t have the stomach to read any further than that. He uses his metal hand to break the lock on the door with ease before slowly pushing it open. He isn’t sure what he’ll find on the other side, but he just hopes he isn’t too late to save you.

Your still figure lies strapped to a metal table, and the steady rise and fall of your chest assures Bucky that you’re still breathing. The medical grade hospital gown is the only item of clothing you have on, allowing the multitude of bruises that cover the expanse of your skin to be on full display. Your face is sunken and drained of color, and your frail figure indicates clear signs of malnourishment. This is not the same y/n that Bucky had kissed goodbye after seeing her off from the compound, and his heart tightens in his chest at this horrible realization.

Bucky makes careful work of undoing your restraints and notes the scarred skin hidden underneath. It’s evident you’d fought against the straps frequently, and he knows better than anyone the fear that must have consumed you from being held down against your will. He doesn’t even want to think about what else they could have done to you in your time here, so he wills the thoughts away and instead carefully brushes his fingers against your arm in an attempt to rouse you from your sleep.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he hushes softly, harshly swallowing down his anxieties for your sake. “Open those pretty eyes for me. Wake up.”

Bucky watches on with bated breath as you begin to stir, eyebrows furrowing in discomfort and lashes fluttering until you can finally will your eyes to open. You groan, blinded by the harsh lights hanging above you and sore beyond belief from your previous bought of torture. It takes you a moment to grow accustom to your surroundings, and after what feels like ages your gaze finally settles upon the man hovering over you.

“There you are,” he utters softly, eyes brimming with tears as a smile of relief washes over him.

You start to scream.

Bucky is taken back by the shrieks you let out as you immediately begin to fight against him, blindly thrashing around like a caged animal while using your feet to kick him away.

“Please, don’t!” You sob in pure terror. “Get away!”

“Y/n, it’s me!” Bucky insists desperately as he takes hold of your wrists to stop your assault, but this only agitates you further.

“Let me go!”

“It’s me, it’s James!” He reiterates firmly despite the tears that fall down his face. “It’s your Sarge, remember?”

You falter at his words as if clarity has finally taken over your frenzied mind, and after a moment your terrified faces morphs into one of desperate relief as you quietly choke out, “Bucky?”

He feels as if the wind has been knocked out of his chest at the sound of your voice. You look absolutely broken, and it unnerves him to no end to see you so hysterical. Bucky knew exactly what they had done to make you this way because he’d once endured it himself, and he ached with agony at the fact that he hadn’t been there to protect you from any of it. It was his job as your teammate, as your partner, to keep you safe, and he felt like he had failed.

“I’m here,” he assures you, catching your trembling figure as you collapse off of the table and into his arms. He sinks to the floor with you in his hold and keeps you close to his chest while you sob, your screams echoing throughout the building and permanently etching themselves into his mind forever. Tears steadily fall from his eyes but he makes no attempt to clear them away. His focus is solely on your comfort as he carefully rubs circles into your back. “I’m never going to let them hurt you again.”

“I wish they would have just killed me,” you manage to confess while digging your fingers into the fabric of Bucky’s tactical vest. Despite the dread that pools in his stomach, the man merely presses his lips to the crown of your head and nods.

“I know,” he shushes you gently, a look of solemn understanding washing over his features. “I know.”

“Bucky,” a voice calls from the doorway, prompting you to stiffen in his hold while he looks to its owner. Steve stands there with a look of quiet realization on his face as he takes in the sight of your disheveled form in your savior’s arms. You begin to tremble in fear at the new presence in the room, and it’s clear that you don’t register the fact that it isn’t a Hydra agent here to torment you but a friend who longs to reach out for you.

“It’s alright, it’s just Steve,” Bucky hushes in your ear before meeting his friend’s disquieted gaze. “Gather the others and get the quinjet ready. We’ll meet you there.”

The Captain gives a solemn nod before making his exit and hastily following Bucky’s orders. Alone once more, you peer up at your partner with exhausted eyes and trembling lips as you meekly ask, “Do I get to go home now?”

With a watery smile, Bucky gently brushes his knuckles across your bruised cheek and offers you a single nod. He decides in that moment his sole focus in life will be to help you overcome the torture you’d endured and provide you the comfort he’d never been given during his time as the Winter Soldier. Your scars were his to bear, matching the ones he had already held on his own for so many years. His support would be unconditional and unwavering, and despite the long recovery that lay ahead he knew you’d be able to endure it together.

“I’m bringing you home, sweetheart, and no one is ever going to take you from me again.”

~~~

It takes an hour for Bucky to settle you down enough so that Bruce and the team of medics can properly examine you. You’d become frenzied at the sight of doctors and had pulled a scalpel on a poor nurse, but none of it was your fault. How could you be expected to willingly accept care when you’d spent an entire month being physically tormented?

Along with the multitude of bruises and cuts on your body, you were found to be extremely dehydrated and malnourished. You weighed fifteen pounds less than when you last left the compound, and you barely had the strength to keep yourself upright. You couldn’t walk for long distances without help from Bucky, and it made you feel absolutely pathetic. You once had been considered a top agent, cunning and powerful without an ounce of fear in your bones, and now you couldn’t go a minute without jumping at your own shadow. Hydra had ruined you, and you feared the effects might be permanent.

Bruce decides enough testing has been conducted for the day and releases you into the care of Bucky. For now, your main priority is to rest and regain your strength, but that’s easier said than done.

You struggle to remove your clothing while Bucky runs you a warm bath. Your muscles still ache from the beatings you’d endured, and each movement of your limbs sends jolts of pain throughout your body. You let out a quiet cry of frustration at your inability to remove your shirt, tears pooling in your eyes and sweat beading on your forehead as the room suddenly becomes much too hot. Your ears start to ring and you begin to panic at the suffocation your clothes cause you, but the feel of Bucky’s cool metal hand against your arm has you immediately relaxing.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly while carefully wiping away the tear that had fallen from your bought of panic. “Do you want me to help you?”

You give him a meek nod and allow him to undress you. Bucky is careful when pulling the shirt over your head, and he tries not to stare too long at the deep purples that stain your skin or the gashes that litter your abdomen. You’d managed to get out some details of your time as Hydra’s prisoner with loving encouragement from Bucky, and you told him of their attempts to coerce you into revealing sensitive information about the Avengers and, more importantly, about him. Your loyalty was unwavering, and though your silence only earned you brutal beatings in return, you never once let them break you. You were incredibly strong even if you didn’t feel that way, and Bucky made sure to express that to you during your assessment with Bruce.

The warm water burns the cuts on your skin as Bucky slowly eases you into the tub, but you try not to let that show. The last thing you want to do is worry him further, and you hate the fact that you’ve put so much on his already full plate for him to bear.

“Does that feel alright?” He murmurs gently while reaching across the way for your bottle of shampoo. You nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper shakily, shutting your eyes as silent tears begin to fall. “I don’t… I’m sorry for putting you through all of this.”

Bucky frowns, faltering in his movements as he sets the shampoo down and kneels beside the tub. He reaches into the water and gently grabs hold of your hand. You flinch on instinct without meaning to, but he doesn’t let show the sadness it brings him.

“None of this is your fault,” he assures you earnestly. “I wish I could take away all of your pain, go back in time and trade places with you, but the best I can do is be here for you. I want to be your shoulder to cry on, your hand to hold, your rock. The same way you’ve always been mine, because that’s what a relationship is supposed to be. Will you let me do that for you, honey?”

You let out a quiet sob from the overflow of emotions that wash over you in response to Bucky’s confession. You can’t get out any words and are only able to offer a nod in response. You’re in anguish from your trauma yet still grateful to have Bucky by your side, and the amalgamation of emotions you feel leaves you overwhelmed. Bucky lets you cry it out while he lovingly washes your hair for you and provides gentle reassurances every now and then. You don’t know what you’d do without him, and thankfully you’ll never have to find out.

You think that maybe you’ll survive this, so long as you have Bucky.

~~~

“My patience is running thin, Agent y/l/n,” the woman hums while filing her nails with disinterest. She never once meets your eyes, behaving as if you are beneath her and her time. You know you could snap her neck with ease if not for the chains keeping your arms hovering above your head; she knows this too, and it’s for that reason she feels cocky enough to torment you from her spot across the room. “I will ask again. Where can I find the Winter Soldier?”

“His name is James,” you murmur lowly before spitting at her. The blood that had pooled in your mouth splatters across the floor and lands on the toe of her boots. She looks down at the mess lamely before lifting her head to her counterpart and giving a single nod. You hold in a cry and grunt through the pain as your smacked across the face by the open palm of a Hydra soldier. A punch to your gut follows, knocking the wind out of you and prompting you to slump forward in agony.

“I have all the time in the world, my dear,” the woman says with a pleasant smile that fails to reach her eyes. You watch with wide eyes as the soldier walks towards the nearby table in the room and picks up a a taser. “Now let us try again.”

Bucky is in the kitchen when he hears you start to scream.

He drops the glass of water in his hands and pays no mind to the way it shatters behind him as he sprints back to your room. Your cries echo throughout the hallway and have probably woken up the entire floor by now, but he’s sure it’s something your teammates are used to by now. Night terrors have plagued your sleep since you were rescued, and though Bucky does his best to ensure your comfort, even he can’t erase the memories that continue to haunt you.

He makes it to your room in record time and finds you struggling to remove the sheets from your body. The kick of your legs is panicked and uncoordinated, and Bucky can tell you’re still in the midsts of sleep and consciousness. He’s at your side in an instant, peeling back the suffocating covers before carefully taking hold of your wrists in order to prevent you from hurting yourself.

“You’re dreaming, y/n,” he hushes you gently as your movements begin to slow. “Wake up, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

You open your eyes with a panicked gasp and shoot up in bed, nearly knocking your forehead into Bucky’s. Your chest heaves as you try to still your racing heart, and it isn’t until you meet his worried gaze that you register your surroundings. The dingy interrogation room has been replaced by your bedroom, and in the place of the callous Hydra operative is your loving boyfriend.

“James?” You whisper shakily, harshly swallowing down the bile that had risen in your throat. Your face is wet with tears and sweat, but this doesn’t stop him from carefully cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to your forehead.

“I’m right here, doll. I’m always right here,” he assures you softly before meeting your fearful gaze.

“I… I think I had another nightmare,” you murmur shamefully. “Can I even call it that if it… if it really happened to me? If it wasn’t a dream?”

Bucky sighs softly and wipes away your tears before helping you settle back into bed. He makes note to kick the covers far away in order to keep you from feeling suffocated and engulfs you in his arms. You cling to him like a child clings to their favorite stuffed animal and find immediate comfort in his warmth.

“It was a dream,” Bucky assures you, “because you’ll never have to live through that again. I won’t let that happen. We survived, and Hydra doesn’t get to take that from us.”

“We survived,” you repeat quietly to reassure yourself, a grounding technique Bucky had taught you. He smiles faintly and gently runs his fingers up and down your back until you’re lulled back to bed.

In his presence, you’re able to sleep through the rest of the night.

~~~

A month has passed and you’re finally starting to show some signs of improvement. You’ve slowly but surely gained back some of the weight you’d lost, and you can walk around the compound without growing tired or needing to hold onto someone else. Most of the bruising has faded and your wounds have morphed into scars, but you’re still not on the same level of strength you had been when departing for that wretched mission months ago. However, Banner has cleared you to participate in training again, and soon you’ll begin conditioning with Natasha.

The mental wounds haven’t healed as easily, and they probably won’t heal for some time. You still can’t be alone in a dark room, can’t sleep without Bucky beside you, and flinch at any loud noise or sudden movements. The therapist you’ve been seeing at Bucky’s request is slowly helping you work through your trauma, but there’s only so much journaling and meditating can do for you.

You want an easy fix or the ability to speed-run through your cognitive healing. You’d even begged Wanda to warp your mind and rid you of your pain, but she had gently denied your request at the behest of Bucky and the rest of the team. Hydra had already scrambled your mind so much with their methods of mental torture, and your partner knew better than anyone that a mind wipe could only keep the memories away for so long before they began to resurface.

You don’t think you would have had the motivation to survive all of this if not for Bucky. He’s been your greatest comfort and your biggest supporter throughout your recovery, and you adore him endlessly for the unconditional love he gives you every day. No one understands what you’re going through better than him, and he has helped shine light on your darkest hour when you thought it to be impossible.

It’s a quiet morning in the compound as Steve and Sam prepare a nice breakfast for the team. You sit silently at the kitchen counter while they work, the music that plays from the radio hardly registering in your mind as you dissociate. Your mind feels foggy, your body on edge with anticipation despite the absence of any threats. This state of mind had kept you sane during your bouts of isolation when Hydra kept you locked in the dark for days at a time, and you still found yourself disconnecting from your environment at times without realizing.

Bucky notes your sudden silence with a worried frown, keeping an eye on you as he drinks his morning coffee but leaving you undisturbed. He found it was best to allow you the chance to break out of your daze yourself so long as the situation didn’t put you in harm’s way.

“I hate to ruin the mood, Buck,” Steve voices while mixing his oatmeal, “but we have to start preparing for our next assignment. We leave a week from today.”

“There isn’t any way for me to sit this one out?” Bucky pleads after casting a nervous glance in your direction. The conversation doesn’t seem to register in your mind, and for this he’s grateful. He doesn’t want to frighten you or send you into a panic so early in the morning. “I can’t just leave her.”

“Natasha will look after her,” Steve assures him. “I know it’s not the same, but she’ll at least be safe.”

“She needs me, Steve.”

“We need you out in the field, especially for this next assignment.”

“She’s tough, Bucky,” Sam reminds him. The man has just finished plating your breakfast for you and sets it down on your placemat- two eggs with pieces of bacon shaped into a smile and a bowl of fruit. You blink slowly before registering the food in front of you and absently reach for your fork. “And she’s been doing so well. You have to give her credit.”

Innocently and without a second thought, Sam rests his hand on your shoulder to give you an encouraging squeeze. The physical contact startles you back into reality, and almost as if on autopilot you clench the fork tightly in your grasp and swing without warning. Bucky’s eyes go wide in shock, but he’s able to move quickly enough so that his metal hand blocks the impact of the utensil from hitting Sam. It falls to the floor with a deafening clatter that sounds throughout the room, and the three men can only stare at each other in shock.

You come to your senses immediately and look down in horror at the crumped fork that lays at your feet. Your frightened eyes look from the fork to Bucky then back to Sam. Your features are apologetic despite the tears that well in your eyes, and you reach for the man with trembling hands.

“Oh my god, I- I’m so sorry,” you weep, “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“I know you didn’t,” Sam utters solemnly, accepting your sorrowful apologies with a hug as you begin to weep into his chest. “I’m alright. No harm, no foul.”

Your quiet cries fill the room as the men exchange uneasy glances. The breakfast is now long forgotten in exchange for the dented fork that Bucky retrieves from the ground and sets onto the counter. It is a harsh reminder of the reality you find yourselves in and the fact that despite your progress, you still have a long way to go.

“I’ll talk to Fury,” Steve murmurs quietly enough for only Bucky to hear. “You’re right.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

~~~

Your therapist suggests a change of scenery might alleviate the restlessness you feel when being benched from missions. Tony graciously offers you one of his many vacation homes to use at your discretion, and you end up in a secluded cabin nestled next to a peaceful lake.

You sit in front of the bay window with a cup of tea in your hands and watch as Bucky chops wood for the fireplace. His muscles are highlighted by the tightness of his red Henley, flexing with the effort he uses to swing the axe down onto the logs. You hum in quiet appreciation for your handsome boyfriend before leaving your place to join him outside.

It’s not often you get to play house like this with Bucky. Your life as world saving heroes doesn’t leave a lot of time leftover for domesticity, so you enjoy these stolen moments when you can. Your kidnapping served as a reminder that the peaceful lives you’d built together could crash down in an instant, and this thought haunted Bucky daily.

“Is my woodsman ready for dinner yet?” You call teasingly from the porch, prompting Bucky to pause his work so he can focus his attention on you. You look radiant with the golden hues of the sun reflecting on your face. Your eyes are the brightest he’s seen them in months, and here at the cabin it almost feels like the old you is slowly starting to peek her head out from the shadows. You’re healing, and nothing makes him happier than that.

“Just about finished,” he grins, meeting you on the porch to pull you into his arms. You melt into his embrace and allow yourself to enjoy the rare moment of tranquility you feel. You haven’t had any nightmares at the cabin, no moments of dissociation, and you don’t shy away from his gentle touch. You’re happy here, and this was a feeling you thought might never be attainable for you again.

“I like it here,” you hum pensively, peering up to meet his gaze. “It’s quiet.”

“You seem a lot better here than at the compound,” Bucky notes considerately, affectionately running the back of his hand against your jaw.

“It helps being separated from anything related to the incident,” you note with a disheartened frown, “but I have to go back at some point. I can’t run away forever.”

“Would it be so bad?”

Your brows furrow with uncertainty as you pull back to meet his stare. “What do you mean?”

“What if we get ourselves a cabin like this? Maybe we go into early retirement, settle down and start a new life together.”

“Do you really mean that, James?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” he grins while grabbing hold of your chin with his thumb and index finger. “That’s always been the goal. I help keep the world safe so that I can wake to another day with you by my side. It doesn’t have to be now if you’re not ready, but just know that my plan is you. It’s always been you.”

You gift him a saccharine smile despite the tears that flow down your face, but for once they are tears of hope and happiness. All you thought of during your imprisonment was Bucky, about not getting the chance to see him again or say goodbye. You loved him with your entire being, and you knew that there was no future for you without him in it.

“I love you, Sarge,” you utter softly, draping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to meet you in a kiss.

Your heart is lighter than it’s been and months, and for once you are filled with hope for a better tomorrow.

~~~

“Like the new suit?” You prompt, shifting left and right to let Bucky take in all the angles. “Tony’s letting me take it out for a test drive.”

“Looks good,” Bucky compliments with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Noting his sudden shift in demeanor, you sigh and carefully rest your hands on his chest.

“I’ll only be gone a day at most,” you utter softly while smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Fury says it’s a quick job.”

“It’s not that,” he sighs as he tightly takes hold of your hands in his own. Hesitating, Bucky casts his troubled gaze to the floor before meeting your somber eyes. “I just don’t like that you’re going alone, and I wish I could come with you. Someone needs to have your back.”

“I’ll be okay. I know what I’m doing, and if all else fails this suit has a tracker that will send you an alert if I’m in trouble.”

“You sure your trip doesn’t have room for one more?” He attempts again only for you to shake your head.

“Afraid not, Sarge,” you sigh before pressing a quick peck to his lips. His sullen features make your heart tighten in your chest, and as much as you don’t want to leave him behind you know you have a job to do. “I promise I’ll come back to you. Don’t I always?”

“You do,” he relents with a faint smile before wrapping his arms around your frame and giving you a tight squeeze. “Have a safe trip.”

“I’ll be home before you know it.”

The memory of your goodbye is fresh in Bucky’s mind despite it having taken place six months ago. You’ve both changed so much since then, but he thinks it’s been for the better. You’ve only grown stronger despite what you’ve been put through, and he couldn’t be more proud.

“How’s that feel?” He asks after adjusting your thigh holster. You hum appreciatively and flex your leg to test the range of motion it gives you. “Too tight?”

“Fits just fine,” you note with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t have to go if you’re not ready. Steve and I can cover your slack.”

“No, I want to,” you insist firmly with a shake of your head. “The doctor says I’m ready, and if I don’t get back out on the field now I never will.”

It’s your first assignment since being sent away by Fury to retrieve those files. You’re nervous, but you’re ready to finally return back to your old life again. Being an Avenger had been everything to you, and you weren’t going to let what Hydra did to you take that away. You’re joining Steve and Bucky in a low stakes reconnaissance mission, and despite your eagerness to be back in action you can tell your partner is worried.

“I’m proud of you,” he utters suddenly, gently brushing back a strand of hair that had come loose from the rest. “And of how far you’ve come. I don’t doubt your ability to hold your own, but as your boyfriend it’s my job to worry.”

“I know,” you affirm with a nod. “I won’t lie to you and say I’m not scared to be going on this mission, but I can’t hide forever. Besides, I’ll have you and Steve with me, and neither of you will let anything happen to me.”

“I have your back,” he reaffirms with a faint smile before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. Despite his worries, he knows that this has always been the goal- to take back the life Hydra had stolen from you both. Your traumas bonded you together, but so did your recovery. Finding hope and positivity after the horrors you’d endured would always be a struggle, but it was a challenge the both of you were willing to take head on.

Bucky was your safe person just as you were his, and together you would always make it to the other side.

[jaylver]

AGAINST THE TIDES — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Growing up, you’ve only had one best friend that you would call your family. Park Sunghoon. He was your partner in crime, your best friend, your ride or die, he was everything. You and him did almost anything and everything together, practically attached to the hip, and that included swimming too. As years passed, you and him both turned out to be outstanding swimmers that had a promising career ahead. All was well until one unforgettable day that broke your lifelong friendship, turning it into anger and hatred instead. With the Olympics coming up, you had unexpected news about Sunghoon joining your team. Worst of all, you had to work alongside him for the mixed medley relay event. One dream, one goal, a childhood wish you and him shared, will that be successfully achieved when you and him could barely bear standing next to each other?

PAIRINGS: pro-swimmer!sunghoon x pro-swimmer!afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, sports au, angst, romance, slow burn, forced proximity

WARNING(S): mentions of drinking/alcohol, profanities, (lots of) miscommunication

WC: 28k

PLAYLIST: suburban legends by taylor swift, heartburn by wafia

AUTHOR'S NOTE: after 4 months of not posting, i've vomited out 28k for y'all! i hope you guys will like this one and do forgive me for my lack of swimming knowledge helpp, i tried with my years of swimming! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver 2024 all rights reserved

Was it possible to wake up from a dream that happened to be your reality?

Standing in the national aquatics training centre, the swimming pool where you've practically resided was glistening under the bright lights. Contrary to them, you were anything but bright, a sudden dread befalling your expressions.

Coming into your first day of the three months long and last training before the Olympics, you were anticipating for it to be a peaceful, fun day that would end with your muscles aching. However, the moment you stepped onto the training ground, being the first to reach, your coach had already decided to break a rather dreadful news. 

"Come on, Y/N, it's nothing too bad," Jeon Jungkook, your young coach that retired early from competing and also the reason for your countless success, was trying his best to reassure you. It wasn't working.

"Not 'too bad'? Being in the same national team with him is already a sight for sore eyes to me. Now you're telling me I have to train with him under you? Together?" 

Your coach was rubbing the side of his head, the early morning and the shrillness of your voice wasn't a favourable pairing to him. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but if it wasn't for Yeonjun's sudden injury, he wouldn't have to be replaced for the mixed relay," 

"Well, if only he didn't get drunk and fell off his bike," you muttered under your breath, never once taking account that this would be the consequences you were suffering from his actions. That was until this moment. 

There came a sigh coming from Jungkook, his arms were crossed and he was resting his weight on one leg. "I know you and him don't get along, but I've discussed this with Coach Kim and we thought that if I replaced Yeonjun with him, it's the best decision. Plus, both of you are Olympic medallists, having two star swimmers in a team isn't all that bad,"

You were silent, stubbornly keeping quiet at the fact that you knew he was right. Of course he was, he's been your coach for years, he has his ways of choosing his words correctly when it comes to you. He knew of your drive to win, the hunger to win gold and nothing else. With a cold, hard fact that Jungkook had slapped onto your face, you had no choice but to consider and forcefully accept.

"You two have history together. Years of history. There's chemistry whether or not you like it. Period," Jungkook waved his arms around, smiling at you as if trying his best to make you feel better. "There's one thing you can't deny. Winning. When there's winners, you mix them together, then what do you get? Medals,

"So, I'm begging you, Y/N. Put up with Park Sunghoon for a few months, another few rounds at the Olympics, then we're done, he'll be back at Coach Kim. Alright?"

"But—"

"End of discussion. Go change up, I'm sure the others will be here soon, including Sunghoon, so you better not throw a tantrum," he pointed his finger at you, wagging it at you accusingly to which you responded with a discreet eye roll.

"Yes, coach."

Even in the locker, you found yourself mulling about at the thought of training with Park Sunghoon again. That name itself has sent you waves of chills countless times.

Park Sunghoon was your childhood friend. Having been your neighbour since birth, your mothers were naturally the reason why you were even friends in the first place. You were barely five when your mother placed you in the local swim club for training, then not long after, Sunghoon joined too.

Your lives mainly revolved around two things. Swimming and each other. Basically, you and him were inseparable. You shared the same coach as him even after entering your teen years. Whether it was the swim club or the youth national team, there was nothing anyone could do to separate you and him in terms of swimming or every aspect in general. Hell, you and him both specialised in the same stroke as well, breaking out into the scene to be the best prospects, earning a reputation for yourselves swiftly. Your friendship itself was known by all too. 'Star swimmers', that was what people called you and Sunghoon.

That was until a particular Wednesday in 2018 that made your nearly sixteen years of friendship with him crumble into ashes. 

"I'm switching coaches. I'm switching clubs." 

You remembered it clearly. It was just after nine o'clock at night when you were done showering, ready to leave and head home with Sunghoon. Yet, his words echoed in the silence of the training centre then.

"What?"

"I just don't think it's working out,"

"Sunghoon—" you never once called his full name unless it was a serious situation, "the Youth Olympic games is literally in a week. What are you even saying?"

"I don't want to lose anymore, Y/N. Do you know it feels like working my body till the point of breaking just for me to get beaten by someone better. I need to get better," his composure was breaking, you could tell, the clenched fists by his side was turning white. 

Your eyes widened at the tone of his voice, but your frown only deepened at his words, nothing was making sense to you. "You're jeopardising the team!"

"I've discussed this with the coaches, I've got permission from the higher ups," 

"You're … you're selfish," you said slowly, unable to speak any longer at the shock of his sudden news. "You never bothered to discuss this with me either,"

"I don't need to,"

"So, you're disregarding our friendship altogether? We promised to tell each other everything!"

"Oh, grow up, Y/N. We were six when we said that, this is different. We're different now,"

In that split second was when a hard realisation hit you. He changed. It was almost as if the person that he once was had died overnight, revealing someone new that shared the same physical traits. Was it the results of the last competition you had days ago that made him turn into this? You never knew him losing would've affected him this badly. That was one thing about Sunghoon, he was never outspoken about his feelings and thoughts.

"You're right. You're no longer the person I know."

That was the last time you ever had a conversation with him face-to-face. The change was drastic. One day he was walking home with you and the next he wasn't even in your life, barely acknowledging each other at competitions. It was legendary, but it was momentary. To say it has taken a toll on you was an understatement. If it wasn't for your mother's consolation, you wouldn't have shown up for training and eventually won at the Youth's game.

Six years. Six, long miserable years of ignoring each other.

The year you were called up to the senior national team was the same year that he did too. It was evident that there was tension between you and him, there was no need for a second look for someone to determine that. You knew rumours were bound to fly, it has been ever since your split with him.

You hate to admit that what he did was right too. Since the day he changed coaches and clubs, he has been improving and climbing higher. Gold was the only colour hanging around his neck at almost every competition he was in. Maybe you were the selfish one after all, secretly wishing he never left in the first place because you were scared of losing him. Well, who knew the fear in that moment turned into your instant reality? Seeing his success only made you bite back on your words of calling him selfish.

The first Olympics you attended in Tokyo was an experience to say the least. Winning two silver and one bronze, your hunger for gold only grew bigger. Everyone in the team had expected either you or Sunghoon to bring back the gold medal, but none of you did, and by then, there was an unspoken rivalry that started from the moment people placed their expectations on you and him.

Three years later in the present day, you couldn't believe he was becoming your teammate and training under the same coach again. Crazy how things could change in a blink of an eye, huh? Your main concern, however, wasn't facing Sunghoon, but whether or not he'd fit into the relay team with only three months of training and no prior experience.

"Well, if it isn't the Y/N L/N being the first to arrive as always," The sound of your teammates' heavy footsteps entered the locker room, Yujin's voice in particular echoed through it, entering your sight at once. "How have you been?"

"Great, been living and sleeping in the pool," you snickered sarcastically, patting Yujin's back in greeting. "I heard you took a long break from your club after the championships,"

"I did, and my muscles are dying to touch the water,"

"She caused a lot of ruckus at the club for that," Yunjin joined into the conversation after setting her bags down, nudging her club and national teammate. "I'm glad we're all back, three months and then Paris, isn't that a dream?"

"It definitely is. I can't wait for the Eiffel tower," Yujin smiled with a dazed look, you and Yunjin only exchanged a silent glance at one another.

"Not the gold medal?"

"That too,"

"I see where your priorities lie," 

"Whatever," she waved her hand at your response, reaching for her swimsuit. "Anyway, did you hear the news from coach?"

"I did," you wrapped your towel tighter around your body, the cold prickling at your skin now that you were in your swimsuit. 

"You don't seem very happy," Yunjin pointed out as she changed into her swimwear, it was then when you became aware of the frown on your face. "The guys are excited,"

"I'm trying to be happy," you grumbled. At this point, there was no hiding the previous history you had with him, almost everyone knew about you and him, the star athletes since teen years had suddenly stopped interacting, obviously that would catch people's eyes and turn into gossip.

"Didn't you have some … fallout with him before?" 

"You know about it?" 

"Y/N, I hate to say it but the whole nation's swimmers are probably aware of it," Yujin walked up to you and passed your goggles to you. "Word spreads fast even during the youth training camps, but I'm sure there's a reason behind your fall out with him, we won't pry,"

"I'm a little curious though," Yunjin added, throwing her towel around her shoulder, unaware of Yujin's pointed glare at her bluntness.

"It's quite petty really, I'm surprised you never heard it from any of my club teammates," you pressed your lips into a thin line, shifting your stance uneasily. "He wanted to leave the club before a big competition, I mean, I get where he's coming from, but I was hurt that he didn't tell me beforehand. I thought it was unfair, we were friends for so long. We said some hurtful things to each other, and things were never the same after," your heart unknowingly tightened at your inner thoughts about the whole fight, telling the story years after made you reflect on it with regret. 

"Do you forgive him?"

"If it meant having my best friend back, I would, but I don't know if he feels the same as I do."

Walking out of the locker room took a huge amount of courage and strength for you to not turn around running. The thought of seeing and interacting with Sunghoon pained you to a great level. Not because you hated him, but mainly the awkwardness and tension that was hard to rid. 

You saw the rest of your teammates by the pool, Anton and Juyeon were too engaged in their conversations to realise Yunjin running up to them with her arms wide open. "Boys!" She engulfed the three men in her arms, startling them and almost had them falling back into the pool. 

"Gosh, you're never going to stop doing that, aren't you?" Anton patted Yunjin's arm, smiling at his senior as she let go. 

"Never," 

The two men greeted Yujin first before turning their attention to you, straightening their spines and giving you a salute. "Y/N,"

"Hey guys, doing good?" You gave each of their shoulders a pat in greeting, receiving firm nods from them as a response. They took the chance to immediately bombard you with questions about your practices and competitions, sharing their own stories about what they were up to as well.

"Y/N, I heard someone's going to snatch your spot in the mixed relay," Anton, the backstroke swimmer and your mixed relay teammate, was referring to Sunghoon's addition to the team. Your endless worries about Sunghoon becoming your teammate had you forgetting about the thing you should actually be worrying about: your position.

"Like hell Y/N is going to give up her spot easily," Yujin came to your defence with her arms thrown around your shoulder. "Isn't that right?" She turned her head to look at you, poking your cheek with a finger.

"What I'm saying is, Y/N could potentially fill in for Yeonjun's spot too. She's also a breaststroke specialist and Sunghoon's last win in the championship was him breaking the world record for freestyle. I'm just saying maybe—just maybe—this combo would be something exciting,"

Yujin, the butterfly swimmer in the mixed relay team, frowned slightly at his argument, though debatable, she didn't seem to think the idea as fit. "The second leg is usually swam by men, it'd be a disadvantage to have a woman swim it. Based off the statistics, it'd be a shit show of a strategy,"

"I'm afraid she's right," you shrugged, heaving a deep sigh at the struggle your team was facing before training even started. "There's no way coach would do that,"

"Then is Sunghoon supposed to really swim the second leg?"

"Duh, who else? He got picked specifically, out of many other people, to replace Yeonjun, I'm sure there's a reason behind it," Yujin gave your shoulder a light squeeze. "Not to mention, he's got a reputation for being a good breaststroker too,"

"Right, he got second place in Tokyo, didn't he? Just like you did, Y/N," Anton's gaze landed on your rather sullen face, the memories of Tokyo where you found out you won the same amount of medals in the same categories as Sunghoon came flying back into your mind. 

The thought of it was laughable, how were you still telepathically connected with him from then up until this moment. It was your childhood with him to blame at the end of the day. You were the one to influence him and made him fall in love with your two favourite strokes: freestyle and breaststroke. Who knew you would land yourself in a position where you potentially had to fight him for your position? 

"Y/N will always be our freestyle master in the last leg, okay? No competitions needed. Our first training together will speak for itself," Yujin glanced at you briefly, checking up on you after your momentary silence. You gave her a smile, reaching for her hand that sat on your shoulder. 

Soon after, the distant sound of your coach's voice slowly became louder as he approached closer. He was talking to someone, the second voice obviously belonged to the person everyone was waiting for, the addition of a star swimmer into the team instantly raised your teammates' expectations and hopes. Everyone else in the room were giving each other knowing glances at the anticipation of Sunghoon's arrival—except for you. 

You were holding your breath, mentally counting down the seconds while the footsteps of your coach and the person who was once your best friend were nearing. Every one of you instinctively lined up in a row as always, awaiting Coach Jeon's arrival. 

You didn't dare to blink. Lo and behold, Park Sunghoon entered the room with your coach by his side, the strong presence of an Olympic medallist and world championship winner filled the room. It was hard to deny that his presence alone was influential. 

"Morning, everyone. As you may know, we'll be having a new addition—or replacement—to the team. Everyone please welcome Sunghoon," 

Following his words, there were enthusiastic claps with a sprinkle of shouts from the guys. Sunghoon was trying his best to keep up with the overwhelming atmosphere from his new teammates, most of which were familiar faces considering they were all from the national team, the only difference was the coaches they train under. That was until now. 

You were standing to the far left, furthest away from the center where Sunghoon was. Were you a coward for avoiding him? That was partially the truth, but all those years of ignoring one another, brushing past each other at every national and international competitions, you weren't the only one at fault. He was also a coward that claimed he was a lion. 

Jungkook patted Sunghoon's back in encouragement, giving the latter a push for him to introduce himself. "Nice to meet everyone, I'm Park Sunghoon. It's my first time training with you all, so I'm apologising in advance if there's any mistakes made on my part. I hope we'll be able to get along well and bring home some gold medals from Paris,"

The team erupted in passionate cheers and applause from Sunghoon's self-introduction. It was clear everyone shared the same goal: a gold medal at the Olympics. 

"Alright, so I think everyone already somewhat knows each other, am I correct?" Jungkook looked between Sunghoon and his group of swimmers, both of which nodded and responded with a chorus of 'yes'. "How about a fresh introduction? A friendly way to warm up to one another," 

'Friendly' was one way to put it and he was definitely directing it at you.

Juyeon, who stood on the furthest to the right, started his introduction first. "I'm Lee Juyeon, butterfly swimmer, we met at the youth championship before,"

"Right, we did, nice to see you again, man," Sunghoon and Intak shared a firm handshake before moving onto Anton. The introductions were all brief, but there were also friendly gestures exchanged. Not long after, you were the last and only one left to introduce yourself.

If you could describe the exact moment Sunghoon met your eyes for the first time in nearly six years, it would be suffocating, and it was in the worst way possible. The warmth and familiarity that was once in those brown irises happened to be gone and lost with him when he saw you. You didn't know how to react, just seeing the hostility and coldness from him that you wished wasn't real was enough to beat you down.

"I'm Y/N L/N. I hope we can win a medal together in the mixed relay," you stayed rooted to your spot stubbornly, not bothering to exchange at least a handshake with him unlike your teammates. It seemed he reciprocated your feelings.

His stoic expression never once faltered, but it was his eyes that spoke louder than words needed to. Amongst the coldness of his gaze, there was an unmistakable shock and longing that he hid well enough for you to not fully catch onto. "I hope so too."

Ignoring the weird tension that lingered around the room between you and Sunghoon, you started your usual routine off along with your teammates. Long hours and many laps of endless swimming was about to be your reality again. The worst part of all was the strength training that was yet to start. 

The excruciating nine hours of never ending swimming soon ended around the evening and your first day was finally done. Neither you nor Sunghoon crossed paths or interacted, maintaining your bliss and ignorance that would bring you peace. 

"Are you just going to ignore him until his last day?" Yunjin was drying her hair, staring at you with an accusatory gaze. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You shrugged, packing up your bag that you slung over your shoulder, flashing Yunjin an indifferent smile. 

"I don't think that's a great idea, Y/N. We still have the mixed relay to consider, there's no way you could just go radio silence on him when it's a team event," Yujin made her way into the changing room from the shower just in time to listen in on your conversation, seemingly disapproving at you and Sunghoon's behaviour towards one another. 

"What am I going to do? He doesn't even want to acknowledge me,"

"How about you try making the first move?"

"Over my dead body," you murmured, hating the fact that you and Sunghoon's past conflicts were stagnating the team, yet your ego was not ready to confront him. Nope, never. 

"You're so stubborn," Yujin grumbled, shaking her head in disapproval. "He's equally stubborn. God, I can't believe I have to put up with these hot-headed, stubborn people, give me strength, please,"

"It'll be fine. As long as I keep my distance and he keeps his distance, nothing will go wrong," you slapped Yujin on her back, earning a doubtful look from her that you responded with an earful smile. 

"I highly doubt that," Yunjin chimed in, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder, ready to leave as well. Yujin turned to share a knowing look with her.

"Me too."

All you could do was roll your eyes, not daring to respond because you knew, too, that you couldn't fully promise that you'd stick to your words. It was impossible to predict what would happen in the next few days, let alone three months. The non-existent interactions with Sunghoon for six years couldn't prepare you for what he was like currently, and for that reason, you were scared. 

That night, alone in your bed, you couldn't take your eyes off the picture frame sitting on your dressing table. It was a picture of you and Sunghoon at the ripe age of thirteen, holding onto your gold medals with the biggest smiles right after a competition. Who would've known in a few years time since then, you wouldn't even be able to stand next to him. 

How you wished those childish smiles would make its way back to you and Sunghoon, standing next to each other with a gold medal again.

A week has passed since the day Sunghoon first started his training under your coach. 

Safe to say, you kept your distance from him and so did he. Neither of you managed to exchange a single word or a single glance that lasted more than a second. It might've been a natural occurrence for you to have some sort of 'cold war' with Sunghoon, but to the others, they felt a little awkward having to be part of it.

For the second week of training, the part that you enjoyed most became dreadful to you. The mixed relay training was inevitable with Sunghoon's presence as a first timer to the group. More practices were implemented by Coach Jeon in order for Sunghoon to adapt and grow familiar with the general rules around mixed relay medley. 

"Doing good?" Anton was the second to arrive after you, standing next to you by the pool. He had probably noticed you staring into the pool, letting your thoughts drift away.

You snapped out of your daze, blinking in surprise at him until you realise who you were talking to. "Wh–yeah, I'm fine,"

"You're not nervous for our first training together as a team, right?" He attempted to lighten the mood, bumping your shoulder with his. 

"No," you scoffed. That was a lie. You were nervous, and masking it up wasn't exactly a great way to deal with it. "It's just any other training,"

"Be honest, you were probably mad when you heard about Yeonjun's stupid accident, weren't you?" Anton took a seat on the starting block, staring up at you with a pair of big doe eyes. 

"Mad? Not exactly. Maybe annoyed? Concerned? A little bit of everything," you frowned, remembering the message sent in the group chat the week before training started. 'Can't turn up to training, fell down my bike and broke my ankle' it was unforgettable. "Why?"

"I'm just a little disappointed it's not Yeonjun swimming the second leg. He's one of the strongest breaststroke swimmers,"

"Weren't you excited about Sunghoon's arrival?"

"Well, it's a no brainer I'm excited, Sunghoon's a great swimmer, but he's not exactly Yeonjun. Thinking about how sudden everything is, the changes and having to adapt to them, I'm just worried it'll affect the team's performance,"

Your gaze softened at the younger boy's truthful confession. If you had to be completely honest, you were worried about the team's future performances as well. Having so little time to adjust and letting a replacement take up a crucial swimmer's role was bound to cause doubts. 

"We'll be fine," your voice was firm with determination. "The future's unpredictable anyway. Who knows what will be the result of this lineup?" 

"Do you know how great of a motivational speaker you are?" Anton smiled at your words, the worries that filled his eyes were blinked away. "Also, what's up with you and Sunghoon? Are you guys always like … this?" He proceeded to make some gestures with his hands.

Here it is. That topic. 

The real question should be: when were you never like this with Sunghoon?

You shrugged, directly lying to his face a second time. "It's complicated. Let's start our warm up, shall we?"

That was enough to divert Anton's attention away from the question he originally brought up, successfully dodging it until the others arrived and started their warm ups as well. Yujin, in particular, was overwhelmed with excitement to start her part of the relay, hoping to beat her own personal record.

"Were you always this excited for training?" You looked at Yujin with an eyebrow raised, watching as she stretched her limbs carefully, a cheery expression on her face. 

"I think my break made me realise how much I missed the water," she kneeled down to touch the surface of the pool water with her finger, a little habit of hers before competitions that she grew to have. 

"How's the temperature?"

She stood back up, straightened her spine, a wide grin spreading onto her lips. "Absolutely perfect."

Once the warm ups were officially concluded, Yunjin and Intak were sent to other lanes in the pool to start their individual training, whereas you and your remaining teammates were listening intently to the coach's every word.

"So, we start our first practice today. Together, as a team, a new team. Let's see what's the time recorded for each leg, improve the handoffs and perfect your individual time. Anton, you'll go first,"

Anton fixed his swim cap right after that, walking towards the starting block while the team dispersed to wait for their turn. You stood beside Yujin, Sunghoon only inches before you. It was hard concentrating on Anton and his start, barely registering the sound of the whistle blowing. He was so magnetic it was almost obnoxious.

"Hey, new guy! Got the rules down?" Yujin directed her words at Sunghoon, catching him off guard. He turned around, an impassive expression was his first response to Yujin. His eyes flickered to you for a split second, quick enough for you to barely catch onto it.

"I have," he answered shortly, seemingly frozen from Yujin putting him into a spot out of the blue. 

Before returning his focus back onto the pool ahead of him, he stole a haste glance at you for the second time. It was barely a second's worth of his eyes on you, not even an acknowledgement. You couldn't explain it. Why were you ticked off by him? 

"Sunghoon, get ready!" Coach Jeon shouted from the other side of the room, glancing between his stopwatch and the pool. Sunghoon stood on the starting block, fixing his goggles in place. "Now!"

The moment Anton's fingers grazed the pool's wall, Sunghoon dived into the pool perfectly, all eyes were fixed on him now. The swimmer that created history, broken records, set a standard for new generations of swimmers, was proving why he was labelled a national treasure.

He was quick. How was that even possible? Breaststroke was one of the slowest strokes in swimming and yet he made it seem as though it was the easiest to swim. Yujin was next, her excitement was apparent in her swim and aggression. The butterfly stroke and her perfect posture had her resembling a mermaid. 

It was your turn to stand on the starting block, preparing for the exact second Yujin finished her lap. Your heart was beating against your chest, adrenaline was suddenly coursing through your veins. The time was ticking, Yujin was coming closer, and with one touch to the wall, off you went into the pool, the cold water engulfing you whole.

The first inhale of air filled your lungs to its maximum capacity. You could feel a sense of buzzing on the tip of your fingers, the muscles of your legs were working to its limits. You felt great. 

Your flip turn was quick and perfect. Everything was going right for you. The way your legs and arms were working in sync, your breathing technique had improved, all of these being factors to your best swim yet. The stopwatch was halted once your tips touched the wall, finally getting the chance to get your head out of the water and breathe deeply.

"54 seconds!" Coach Jeon called out, a satisfactory grin plastered on his face. "Good job," he clapped his hands, throwing up a thumbs up at both you and your teammates. “Get a short rest, I’ll be with the others then we’ll resume our training together,”

A chorus of ‘yes, coach’ travelled through you and your teammates, all of you watched as he walked to the other side of the pool where the others were training, then breathed a collective sigh of relief. Yujin came forward to help you out of the pool, wrapping a towel around you while patting your back.

"Good swim,"

You smiled at her, placing your hand on her waist. "You had a good swim too,"

"What a swim, L/N!" Anton, who stood next to Sunghoon, yelled at you as you and Yujin approached. You snorted at his enthusiasm, giving him a thumbs up in response. The man to his left, however, remained impassive just as his face displayed almost to no emotions regarding your performance. Not that you needed his validation anyway. You met his eyes, his unwavering stare bore into you, it was as if everyone was awaiting for his comments. 

"You didn’t swim at your best,"

His words were as cold as his voice, piercing into your heart without a space for you to recover or register what he meant. What did he mean? There was a sudden edge to the atmosphere around the group, a thick air of tension surrounded you and him in particular. “What?” There was no need for him to repeat what he just said, but it was almost unbelievable as an alien invasion to you.

“You weren’t swimming at your best,” Sunghoon repeated firmly, his stoicness never once faltering. Your dignity, on the other hand, was withering. 

“Who are you to determine whether or not I’m swimming at my best?” You took a step forward, your footstep heavy on the ground. He stayed rooted to his spot, chin held high while your narrowing gaze pierced through his skull.

There was a pause where a momentary silence filled the air. Neither you nor the rest of your teammates dared to speak. The man before you was expressionless, it was nearly hard to read him or his thoughts, only seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest, whereas yours was in a frenzy.“I know you,”

He might as well have just shot you in the face. Those three words were as hard as bullets were, causing you to almost lose your footing and tumble over, but somehow, you managed to stand your ground. Out of the many things he could’ve said, this was the least you expected. You had wished he would’ve lied and insulted you rather than speaking the inevitable truth. Frankly, it was the same for you. 

“You know nothing about me,” you seethed out, nostrils flaring out of indignation. 

Sunghoon scoffed, turning his head to a side for a second before looking back at you, a fire lighting up in those cold eyes of his, melting into a fiery pit of rage. “You can cuss me out or insult me all you want, but the biggest insult you could ever throw at me is disregarding our past. I know you, it’s simple as that, and I can tell you’re not swimming to your fullest,”

You couldn’t form an immediate response, because you were stunned and stuck in an endless cycle of thoughts, thinking if what he said was actually true. What if … you truly weren’t swimming at your best? Were you holding back? The only thing you could bear to thank Sunghoon now was for feeding into your self doubts.

“You…you—”

“Okay, cut it out guys,” Anton came to stand between you and Sunghoon, shielding your line of sight and you felt an odd sense of relief that Sunghoon couldn’t see your crumbling state. There was no way in hell you were turning vulnerable right in front of him, nor were you going to lose the fight to him. Knowing how stubborn either of you were, if Anton hadn’t cut into it, you might’ve been there for longer. “Quit fighting, I swear. I know there’s tension—hell, I can feel it—but can you two at least act like you can tolerate each other? If you two act like this even in Paris, what will the press write?”

Anton was right, he was always right. You hated how you’ve allowed your emotions and past consumed you when it came to Sunghoon. The person who was once your strength had turned into your weakness, your flaw. Everything had been fine until it came to him, it has been so ever since six years back. Now, you were reliving it all over again.

“I’m going to get some air,” Sunghoon announced, sparing one last glance at you before turning his heel to leave, the water from his body left wet footprints on the floor.

Yujin and Anton turned to look at you, the unmistakable look of shock on their faces. They were seemingly as helpless as you were, but they were more likely experiencing much worse being stuck in the middle of you and Sunghoon. “I’m sorry … for that. I’ll go for a dip in the pool.”

They watched as you made your way back to the starting block and in the next second, you had already jumped into the pool, starting another lap again. Yujin and Anton stared at one another, matching frowns etched onto their worried faces. There was a wordless exchange as if something had clicked in their minds from just one knowing look.

“We need to find a way to get them to reconcile.”

One month into training and there was nothing that could be done to make the two star swimmers return to a civil relationship. In fact, the space between you and Sunghoon had only grown bigger ever since the small rift that made everything go from bad to worse.

It had gone to a point where Coach Jeon had to give both of you a lecture, almost begging you and Sunghoon to work together for those few short months. To him, it might’ve truly been a ‘few short months’, but to you? It was a hellish period of time to be reckoned with.

You could tell everyone was trying to push you and him together, but you and him were just like magnets with the same poles, repelling each other no matter how much effort was put into getting you and him close. There was once when your teammates had strategized to purposefully have you and Sunghoon sitting side-by-side, yet to their surprise, your hatred for one another gave you ways to make any efforts fail. For that dinner, each of your chairs were pulled far enough to create an obvious distance, not one glance was even spared between you and him.

Then came a Saturday, a weekend off for the team and an opportunity for everyone to go out for drinks. It was the perfect time to let go and relax for a short moment, but to your teammates, it just so happened to be a perfect setting for their plan: get Sunghoon and Y/N to diffuse their hatred.

“Why is everyone always at my place when we get ready to go out?” you grumbled, picking up your dirty clothes that were scattered on the floor to make way for Yunjin and Yujin, their hands full with clothes and makeup.

“It’s a tradition now,” Yujin pressed a kiss on your cheek, laughing at your unimpressed frown. “It’s a once in a blue moon type of thing! We should make the most out of tonight, we don’t know when we’ll have another day off after this,”

“That’s right,” Yunjin said, placing her dress onto your bed, next to yours that was laid carefully to avoid wrinkles. “It’s time to drink till we break.”

That wasn’t exactly how you wished your night to go. You and the girls met up with the guys at the entrance to the club, having to squeeze your way in and hold onto each other tightly to not lose your way. It reminded you why you never had an active nightlife apart from the routine you had as an athlete. The club reeked of alcohol, sweat, smoke and many other things, none of them were good.

The moment you got to settle into the booth, you finally got a clear view of everyone. You, Yunjin and Yujin were dressed in almost matching tight dresses, the only difference was the colour, the length and the existence of shoulder straps. Anton and Juyeon were sporting collared shirts, while Sunghoon wore a black button down shirt, his hair gelled up to reveal his forehead.

There was no mistaking his straying eyes, but he wasn’t the only one, you were equally guilty. You tried to reason it with the excuse of pure curiosity, yet you found yourself stealing more than one glance. By then, you knew it wasn’t something you could easily deny.

Juyeon leaned his body against the table with a serious expression that he had whenever he set the rules for the night every time you had a night out. “Okay, so the rules for tonight, no leaving on your own, unless you send a text. No going overboard until you do crazy shit that will get your name on the headline,” he paused, scanning the group. “Lastly, no becoming Yeonjun and break your bones,”

There was a chorus of snorts and laughter at the slight dig at Yeonjun. It was a joke, but the chances of it happening wasn’t entirely zero. “Got it!” 

The group soon dispersed, some were headed straight to the bar, some were off to the dance floor and some had stayed in the booth. You and Yujin had stuck together, sitting on the high stool at the bar, heads propped onto your hand as you stared at each other. There was a wordless breath of a sigh between you and her, it seemed that neither of you needed to verbally communicate to know what the other was thinking. You held your shot glass up to clink against hers, and at the same time, you downed the shot down with Yujin. 

The feeling of the alcohol burning your throat was something you didn’t miss, yet it was what you needed at that moment. “That was good,” you muttered, hearing Yujin’s laugh as a response to your comment. “If I wasn’t an athlete whose health gets scrutinised, I would be drinking at every minor inconvenience,”

“You’d be an alcoholic at that point,” Yujin shook her head, a faint smile adoring her sharp features. “Why? Is the pressure getting to you?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think about those things, I never do,” you watched as the bartender filled your and Yujin’s shot glasses once more. “I’m thinking about Sunghoon,”

Yujin straightened up at that, her body leaned close to yours, an inquisitive raise of her eyebrow met your eyes. “Sunghoon? You? Thinking about Sunghoon?”

“Not about him per se, but you know—us—our past, it’s affecting the team and I hate it. I hate that I can’t do anything about it,”

“You can? You can just make things even with him,”

“Easier said than done. We can’t see eye to eye. I mean, do you think it’s easy to befriend your ex best friend that you had beef with?”

“Well…no,”

“Exactly,” you said, followed by downing another shot out of your glass. “It’s hard to even speak to him without him glaring at me, how am I supposed to go: ‘hey, let’s be BFFs again’,”

“But don’t you want to try and mend things? At least end the bad blood,”

You stared at your shot glass, your fingers grazing against the mouth of the cup, a sad smile making its way to your lips. “I wish I could, but I’m afraid the damage is worse than I had imagined.”

Drowning your sadness in shots after shots was an equation for disaster, and that was exactly what you had done. Excuse the liver damage, your current concern was your emotions that were bound to spill out of its seams. An emotional drunk, that was what you were as depressing as it sounds. The thought of Sunghoon and your ruined friendship was the cherry on top to it all.

“He hates me!” you slurred, your face buried in your hands after four shots of tequila. “I don’t even know how it turned out like this … how it turned into this,”

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yujin moved your shot glass further from your reaching hands, causing you to frown deeper at that. “No more, okay? You’ll regret it in the morning,”

“I’m used to regretting things, just leave me be,” you pouted at Yujin, but she was firm and final in her decision in cutting you off alcohol for the night. “Sunghoon…” you murmured before the alcohol fully set in and your head collapsed onto the table, absolutely blacking out.

“Oh God.”

Yujin returned to the booth with you slumped against her. She thought the amount of weight training she had endured was finally worth it for having to put up with your drunk self. The rest of your teammates had returned to the booth, empty cups were littered around the table, the only sober ones there were Yunjin and Sunghoon, who was trying to peel Anton away from his body. He glanced up in time to see Yujin approaching with you being supported by her.  

Yunjin stood up and rushed to Yujin’s side to help her with you. “Is she okay? I’ve never seen her this drunk,”

“I should be asking the same about Anton and Juyeon,” Yunjin nodded at the two who were slumped against each other, eyes closed and probably drifting to some dreamland where a head splitting morning would soon await them in the morning. 

“They’re also a lost cause,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Let’s get going,”

It was a miracle that Yunjin, Yujin and Sunghoon had successfully carried you and the other two out of the club. The process, however, didn’t matter and was forbidden to speak about, what mattered most was the success of getting the three of you. 

“I’ll call a cab for us four, we live in the same apartment complex,” Yunjin looked over at a struggling Yujin trying her best to prevent Anton and Juyeon from falling over while they leaned against each other. You were basically the calmest out of them, sleeping soundly. “Will it be okay for you to bring Y/N home? I know it’s too much to ask—”

“I’ll bring her home. It’s not too much, don’t worry,” Sunghoon reassured, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. “W–what’s her address?” it never occurred to Sunghoon that, one day, he would not know where you lived, that you were no longer the girl that lived next to his house. The girl that had once taken over his life was no longer a part of it. That, to him, was a tough pill to swallow.

“I’ll send it to you in a second, I’m almost done booking the cab,” Yunjin was feverishly tapping her screen, her eyebrows knitted together. “You drove here, right?”

“I did,”

“Smart decision,” she muttered, finalising her booking with one last tap. “The cab’s arriving in ten minutes and I just sent her address to you. Don’t worry about us, it isn’t our first time, we know how to deal with them. Get her home safe, and you, get home safe too,”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Sunghoon asked once more, casting a worried glance over at the two men who couldn’t even keep their balance sitting up. 

“Better than okay. Now, go get her home, we’ll be fine.”

Sunghoon drove his car to the front of the club, and with the help of your two friends, you were loaded into the passenger seat with ease. By then, you were half awake from your sleep, the unfamiliar settings causing you to become much alert. You sat up from the seat a little too quick, an honest mistake which brought a throb to your head. 

“Just sleep, it’ll hurt less,” 

That voice. How and why was it so close to you? Whose car were you in? Could it be …?

“Sunghoon?”

You blinked hard, trying to get rid of the haziness and the blur in your vision. It didn’t need a second thought for you to know it’s Sunghoon. From his voice to his outline, even the midst of it all, you could always recognize the boy you knew your whole life. 

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m just trying to help,” he replied flatly, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“I thought you’d rather die than help me,”

“Well, that’s what you think. You’re not always right,” 

You didn’t say anything after, letting a curtain of silence fall over, it was better for you and him. You could barely keep your eyes open, the heaviness of your head only made you feel much nauseous than before. It was more ironic how the reason you drown yourself in alcohol was sitting next to you, driving you home with no single trace of alcohol in his blood unlike you. Maybe you were the pathetic one here.

The drive back to your place was quiet, the faint music from his radio was playing to fill the awkwardness between you two. How did it even get to this point in the first place? You wished you knew. Sunghoon’s car eventually came to a stop right by the entrance of your apartment complex, the silence somehow only grew thicker now that the car has stopped moving. 

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced the obvious, attempting to cut through the silence with something rather than nothing. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I’ll be fine on my own,”

“You don’t really look fine,”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, and thanks for the ride home. I’ll see you at training,” you reached for the handle, pulling it and opening the door, one foot already out, but the other lost its footing and you stumbled, a hand gripping onto your forearm was what prevented you from falling face first into the hard road. Sunghoon yanked you back into the passenger seat, and you were too surprised to utter another word. Damn it. 

“You’re clearly not fine on your own. Let me walk you up,” he said with a finality in his voice. You knew there was no way for you to reject his offer now that you had embarrassed yourself while you tried proving your point. “You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh?”

“What—”

He had slammed his side of the door into your face and your unfinished response. You didn’t have the time to process everything when Sunghoon appeared by you in a split second, your door was opened and he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was irritating and extremely annoying to you how he was practically almost impossible to read around you. You knew him too well, and that was probably the reason why he increased his guard when it came to you.

“Hold onto me,” he extended his arm, and you couldn’t explain why, but your heart rate was increasing with every passing second. His head tilted slightly at your hesitance, a minor frown decorated his features at your reaction. “What is it?”

“Oh—nothing,” you shook your nerves off. Since when were you ever scared of Sunghoon? Let alone be nervous around him. You might’ve not been friends but it doesn’t make him any scarier. In that light, in that moment, you got a glimpse of the Sunghoon you knew years ago. That was what made you freeze up.

You placed your hand on his forearm, using him for support as you got out of his car, the piercing pain in your foot caused you to wince. You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh? Why must he always be right about you? “What is it?” he noticed your discomfort, worry flashing across his face for a moment. 

“It’s nothing, just my heels—”

“Sit back,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into the passenger seat. He took one glance at you, there was an unmistakable mix of emotions in his eyes, but then he was out of your sight, opening the door of his backseat to get something. 

Once he was back, he knelt on one knee in front of you, not a single word was exchanged, but you followed his every movement. He had a pair of shoes in his hand, it was only a beat later when he stared up at you, meeting your curious eyes. “When are you going to stop pushing me away and pretend it’s nothing when you need help?”

Sunghoon reached for your leg, unbuckling your heels in a swift motion, his touch was soft and he was gentle with you in every way. The shock from earlier till now had only caused you to sober up quicker, but the haziness in your head made you wonder if this was just a dream. He was right in front of you, swapping your heels for a comfortable pair of shoes, helping you into them as you watched wordlessly.

“There. Feel better now?” Sunghoon stood up, holding onto your heels in one hand. Truthfully, you didn't know what to say to him, merely nodding in response. He breathed out a rather loud sigh, extending his arm out to you once more, and you immediately got the cue to hold onto him just like before.

Your first step out onto the ground was heaven in those comfortable shoes. They were large and awkward for you, but they were miles better than your heels. “Just hold onto me. I know you probably can't walk straight now,”

You bit back a remark to that, wanting to prove him wrong but you figured it'd be another stupid idea of yours. Holding onto his forearm just like before, you walked quietly with him by your side. You were unconsciously leaning your side onto him, the realisation might’ve not hit you, but it did for him. This was the closest you’ve been since six years ago, physically and emotionally. 

The silence was painful leading up to the moment you opened your front door, hoping to bid him a hasty goodbye, just for you to almost stumble over your own two feet once more, proving his point was right all over again. Sunghoon didn’t complain when he helped you out of his shoes, he didn’t say anything even when he guided you into your bedroom where you crashed out once your head hit the pillow. How was that possible? That was what Sunghoon thought upon seeing your sleeping figure.

“Sunghoon,” he nearly jumped at the sound of your voice that was muffled by your face being pressed into your bedsheets. Your eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed with a slight frown as if there were many thoughts swarming your drunken mind. He didn’t dare to speak or make another move, waiting for what you would say next with an unsteady breath. You shifted in your sleep, your hand seemingly balling into a fist. “I’m sorry,” the words were hardly audible, yet in the silence of the night and the heat of it all, it was the loudest and clearest to Sunghoon, they were the only thing buzzing in his ears along with the sound of his heartbeat.

A faint smile that he hasn’t worn around you in ages made its way to his face. Although Sunghoon knew you would most likely have forgotten about this and have zero recollection of uttering the words ‘I’m sorry’ when morning comes, there was still a sense of assurance that the chances of reconciling weren’t completely zero. He breathed out a small sigh, realising he had to go back to pretending he hadn’t heard your confession, having to act cold to one another as if it wasn’t killing him internally. Were you feeling the same as he did?

Sunghoon tucked you into your blanket, casting one last glance at you sleeping soundly before turning his back to you, taking big steps to your bedroom door just for him to stop in his tracks at the glint of your photo frames. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance. It was his first mistake, his curiosity had led him to the childhood pictures of you and him. You still had them after everything you went through with him. There was a lump in his throat, the sting in his eyes became much more prominent, a cluster of emotions were weighing down on him.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Is it me … or is the mutual hating tension becoming awkward now?”

All of your teammates were huddled in a group, observing you and Sunghoon being forced to listen to your coach’s lecture for the hundredth time. It was the first training after your short weekend break, and that night alone has changed everything. Neither you nor him were at each other's throats anymore, there was no malice in the air or animosity, but there was still a striking tension that made everyone around you and him feel uncomfortable. 

“What even happened that night?” Juyeon crossed his arms, frowning a little at the zero to none recollection of what happened that night all thanks to his reckless drinking.

“Nothing much,” Yunjin said, her eyebrows raising at the sight of you and Sunghoon, choosing to keep your worries about him a secret. 

Yujin coughed, displaying a deadpan expression. “What Juyeon probably meant was, what happened after? He sent her home, didn’t he?”

“He did, but I didn’t hear what happened after,”

“They’re acting like they’ve fucked or something,”

“Anton!” the group averted their eyes at Anton, who seemed to have shrunk under the sharp glares sent by his teammates. 

“What really happened after?”

If you were to receive at least a dollar for the times your coach has reprimanded you and Sunghoon, you would’ve quit swimming and be a millionaire. This instance was the same as before where he called you and Sunghoon out on your lack of chemistry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and you could understand how it might affect the overall team chemistry, but what could you do? Make the first move? Insane.

“Guys, I know I’ve said this before, but you’ve got to at least talk a little,” Coach Jeon let out a sigh, rubbing the sides of his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone with eyes can tell you do not wish to be associated with each other or stand next to each other—” his eyes were trained on the distance between you and Sunghoon. Upon realisation, the both of you took a step closer to each other, but it was not enough to mend it.

“Just try. Don’t give the national team or yourselves bad press, alright?” Coach Jeon’s face was laced with genuine concern and worry. Given how long your relationship has been affecting the team, your coach’s worries only increased. “Look, either try to be on friendly terms before the Olympics or I’ll make it happen,” the latter sounded almost like a threat from the tone of his voice, sending chills down each of your spines. “Dismissed.”

The moment your coach was out of ear shot, you turned to look at Sunghoon, narrowing your gaze accusingly at him. “Did you hear him? We’ve got to at least try speaking—” before you could manage to finish your sentence, Sunghoon scoffed and turned on his heels to leave the room.

You, on the other hand, were entirely dumbfounded by his sheer audacity. Was him helping you out that night merely a front that he kept up? He had transformed a total 180 compared to his previous attitude, this was not the same man who left you water and aspirin by your bed. “Asshole!” you shouted out at him as he made his way out, turning to leave from the other door to avoid following him.

The rest of your teammates that were huddled in a group still had their eyes fixated on the drama unfolding before them, most of which were shaking their heads in disapproval, some wandering eyes were trained on either one of your backs before disappearing completely behind the doors. Yunjin exchanged a brief glance with Yujin, a light bulb on the top of her head turning on.

“I’ve got a way to get them to fix things up.”

The sun was soon setting as the evening came to an imminent end. You were the last to shower, being the only one left in the locker room, the sound of your locker door slamming shut echoed throughout the room. You took a seat on the bench, leaning your head against the lockers, a frustrated groan escaped your lips. You were annoyed, agitated at how Sunghoon had actively ignored you. Why was he acting like a total stranger to you? The least he could’ve done was spare some acknowledgement. Was he as cruel as you made him out to be?

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts the second you heard voices coming from the outside of the door. There was no way anyone would be catching you getting emotional over Sunghoon—except for Yunjin—once was already enough, you blamed it on the influence of the alcohol. The voices only got louder as it came closer. There was a man’s voice, but also a woman, or actually, it sounded more like a group as you walked to the door, straining your ear to listen in on the commotion outside.

Before you could get any closer, the door flung open, causing you to take a step back in shock, mouth agape. The person being pushed into the locker room was no one other than the manifestation of your thoughts: Park Sunghoon. Just as quick as he was pushed in, the door slammed shut and there was a sound of the door locking. 

“Sort your shit out and we’ll let you out in a few hours! Sorry!”

“What?” 

“What?”

You and Sunghoon yelled out simultaneously, absolutely incredulous this was befalling on you. Sunghoon, who happened to be unfortunate enough to be pushed into the locker room that you were alone in. This wasn’t a coincidence, it was a strategic plan your teammates brewed up. The realisation clicked once you locked eyes with him, the adrenaline soon died down and the usual awkward tension returned. 

The pettiness from earlier had you turning your back on him, storming towards the bench where you were sitting before your peace was ruined. Slow and hesitant footsteps followed you from behind, the heaviness of your breathing filled the air and you soon stopped in your tracks, the footsteps followed short. You turned around fast enough for you to have a whiplash, the man in front of you had kept a distance between you and him, the unspoken emotions were visible in the way he looked at you.

“Are we ever going to stop this?” the words had left his mouth before you could even form a proper thought, that alone was able to break down everything you had prepared to say beforehand. 

“Stop—what?”

“This! Us!” he gestured between you and him, the distance was already proof of your coldness to one another. “Are we going to continue pretending everything is alright when it’s not?” 

“You seriously have the nerve to say that after ignoring me for years, so yes, everything is fine! It’s the way it’s supposed to be,”

“You were ignoring me too!”

“I mean, you hate me, we can’t stand each other, isn’t that what everything is meant to be like?”

“‘I hate you’? Since when have I hated you?” Sunghoon scoffed, nostrils flaring, frown lines deepening. 

“Ever since our first competition after you transferred clubs. We stopped talking, you never bothered to look me in the eyes and brushed past me as if I was a stranger! I thought I could try apologising, but since then, all I could see in your eyes was anger,” your breath was shaky, the memories of your best friend becoming someone you couldn’t recognise was painful to relive. “You never told me your plans to leave, but you know what? I thought we were best friends…”

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak just for him to close it again, jaw clenched with a tense gaze. “I thought it was the right choice. I knew you would’ve said no if I had told you earlier, so I chose not to. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I suppose my judgments were wrong. I was a coward,” he paused, his eyes scanning every micro expression you made. “I never hated you. How could I ever? I was angry at myself. Seeing you…I was frustrated that I had let you go so easily. I thought you didn’t wish to reconcile after you ignored me, I didn’t know it was the opposite,”

You were still unresponsive, your pupils were shaking just as your breath began to waver. Sunghoon tried his best to muster the faintest of a soft smile, his knuckles were soon turning white from how hard he was balling his fists. “I’m sorry for saying those things that night. I shouldn’t have disregarded our friendship over something so stupid. I’m sorry, Y/N,”

With every blink, your eyes only stung from the tears building up. His confession as a whole made your heart twist, the overwhelming truth was eating you up from within. The explanation from him that you craved and yearned from years was finally here, but instead of feeling angry and wanting to punch him in the face like you’ve always thought you would, you were the total opposite of that.

Tears were streaming down your face before you could fully comprehend you were crying. The lump in your throat was preventing you from speaking, a choke sob escaped and that wasn’t helping your case at all. “Fuck,” you cursed, feeling the heat creeping up to your face from embarrassment and you immediately buried your face into your hands.

“Hey,” Sunghoon took large strides to get to you. You felt the warmth of his presence, the gentle touch of his hands that were on your arms, trying to pry them away from shielding your face. In that moment, you let yourself fall victim to him and his touch, feeling as if you had travelled back in time to when you first lost and Sunghoon was comforting you. “Hey, look at me,” your eyes flitted up to meet his gaze, recognising the familiarity in them that you’ve missed. 

“What are you crying for?” his thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the downpour of tears. 

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon, I’m truly sorry. I feel stupid, I shouldn’t have expected you to read minds, I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything—”

“Hey,” he said once more, pulling your attention back onto him. “It’s alright. The both of us made mistakes, we were both in the wrong, none of us could blame the other. I know where you’re coming from, I understand,”

You blinked your tears away, breathing in deeply to stop yourself from crying yet again. “I wished we could’ve done this earlier. I wished I could’ve been less consumed by my anger. I lost many years without you, and most of all, I missed you,”

There was a twitch to the corners of Sunghoon’s lips, his hold on your hand became slightly tighter, and in a blink of an eye, he tugged you into his chest, engulfing you into a hug. You’ve missed this feeling, yet it felt completely new to you. “I missed you too. I’m sorry for being such a stuck up asshole to you all the time,”

You snorted, smiling faintly against his hold. “You better be sorry. You’re forgiven,”

“You’re forgiven too.”

Six years. That was how long you’ve lost with each other. The amounts of competitions won, achievements and important events missed could no longer be replaced. But that day, in that locker room, you got a new chance at rebuilding the moments you’ve lost in those six years, and you got a new beginning to build memories, even legacies, together that lasted for centuries.

Waking up to a message from Sunghoon on a Saturday morning was the last thing you’d expect. 

Sure, you had made up with him not long before this, rather forcefully so, and you were glad it went well because you were done with your years of miscommunications with him, but after all, the wound was still fresh, the awkwardness and unfamiliarity was there between the both of you. You couldn’t really speak to him without silence eventually following with nothing to say, nor could he keep a conversation with you fully either. 

In your eyes, he looked like the person you knew for your whole life, physically unchanged, but at that moment, you didn’t know what he was actually like anymore, whether he would laugh at the same joke you made or if he’d have the habit of repeating some words as he used to, all of those became a mystery to you. It hurts you to know you’ve built a distance from him, causing the person you understood so well becoming someone you’re barely associated with.

Unknown number: this is Y/N, right? it’s Sunghoon. do you have time today?

You: hey, it’s Y/N. i do have time, i’m free for the whole day. why do you ask?

Sunghoon: i’m going home today, back to our hometown, i’m wondering if you’d like to come along? it’s okay if you decline though.

You: no, actually i’d like to come with you if you don’t mind. thanks for asking me. 

Sunghoon: i’ll be at your house in an hour, eat something light, let’s get breakfast at our usual place.

Going back to the place that practically raised you along with the person that had been by your side since the start and growing up together with you was something you’d never once thought was possible in those six years apart, that was until now. It was a miracle that he’d willingly invited you to join him, and as much as you were relieved, you were also nervous, way too anxious for your own good.

For at least fifteen minutes after answering his texts, you paced back and forth in your apartment, conflicted about what to wear, the things you should bring, and even preparing what you could say to him once you saw him. This was a big step for not only you, but also him. It was a bandage that would heal the wounds caused by your dispute, a potential chance to restart the friendship and get closer to one another.  

Seeing his car brought you back to the night he drove you home. An embarrassing realisation that you had was Sunghoon had to see you in your drunken state that couldn't keep yourself balanced on two feet. You disregarded that memory and entered his car, greeting him a good morning like you've grown to do at training.

“Hungry?” 

“I'm alright, just had some bread,”

“Great. It'll be an hour drive and we'll stop by our favourite restaurant, how does that sound?”

“I'm excited. I haven't been back in months,”

“Well, I think you'd like the new set they added in the menu.”

He remembered what you liked and hated? The biggest shock was realising he still ate at your favourite restaurant, taking note of an addition to the menu that he'd think you'd like. Did that mean he's kept you in his head even before your reconciliation?

Everything was confusing to you. He was confusing to you. It was absolutely frustrating. You shook off that feeling and stared out of the window, noting some landmarks that you remembered. It was the same route you'd take every time you went back to your hometown as well. You wondered how many times you've happened to cross paths on this route with Sunghoon in the past. 

By taking advantage of the silence in the car, you decided to ask Sunghoon a question that's been eating you alive ever since you received his message. “Why did you suddenly decide to go back at this time?”

Sunghoon didn't expect you to cut through the silence, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes upon the read ahead. He hummed thoughtfully, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“To be honest, I've thought about it for quite some time already. I wanted to have a small getaway while being able to see my parents before going to Paris,” he paused for some time, the faint music coming from the radio played in the background. “It's something that I do before major competitions. Visiting the old pool and seeing everyone again really calms me down a lot. I just thought it'll be a great opportunity to bring you along now…” now that we're somewhat friends again. That was probably what he wanted to say after judging from his hesitance. 

“I never knew you went back so often,” you muttered, frowning at the fact that this was another thing that you failed to learn about Sunghoon. It was also another evidence of how your friendship was, in fact, in the ditch for a long period of time where you practically had zero idea of what the other was doing.

He maintained his focus on the road ahead, but you could see a small, ever so slightly of a smile forming on his face. At least you knew he was getting comfortable enough to not keep such a stoic expression around you like before. “It's not that often. I will try to do it as much as I can, but it's hard. You know, my mum would ask your mum about you all the time, she just hides it from me,”

You snorted at that, yet internally, you felt touched at Mrs Park's concern for you even when you and her son stopped being friends. It was hard to avoid her whenever you went home considering she lived in the house next to your family. Not that you had ill intentions to dodge her, but seeing her after what went down, you didn't have the courage to face her. Mrs Park was relentless to say the least, she'd always find her way to speak to you no matter what, and sometimes, you could see how sorry she was from her eyes alone.

“I'm sure my mum does the same too and she just never tells me.”

The journey there didn’t take long with several conversations here and there with Sunghoon, the small talks lasted longer than how it usually would, and that alone was saying something. There were some laughs shared together, in the midst of the moment, you couldn’t help letting your gaze on his smile linger for more than a second. It was the first few times you got to see Sunghoon letting himself go around you just like old times. 

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned the first stop would be your favourite restaurant. It was surprising to see the restaurant again after almost a year of not dropping by. The times you went back to your hometown was to visit your parents only, there were barely any second thoughts about stopping to visit your favourite spots. Maybe it was also because you were scared to relive the best memories you had with Sunghoon and the only way was to avoid the places you created unforgettable moments with him.

“I haven’t been here in forever,” you looked around at the unchanging interior of the restaurant, the walls were decorated with simple paintings and a picture of you and Sunghoon together with the restaurant owner. Beside that picture was another one that caught your eye instantly. Squinting, you realised that it was Sunghoon with the owner in more recent years, most likely a year ago. He really did come back to visit much more consistently than you, especially to the places you grew up going to together. “Is that you in the picture?”

Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, turning to follow your line of sight and realisation dawned on his face at the picture that was next to the old one of you and him. “Oh—that, yeah it is. It was taken a year ago. I only started coming back here last year. I was surprised she recognised me after all those years. It was quite awkward when she asked me about you though,”

“I can imagine,” you cringed at the image of people asking either one of you about the other, you've been so close since forever where everyone assumed you and him came in pairs. “I didn’t think you’d come back here,” 

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t it remind you too much of us?”

Sunghoon smiled at that, a hint of curiosity sparked in your eyes at his reaction. “That’s the reason why I came back actually … regardless of what happened,”

You could sense some sadness in his voice when he said that despite wearing an unwavering smile. There was an odd feeling in your heart knowing that you were wrong all along. Sunghoon never hated you, not even once. In fact, he missed you just as much as you did, or more judging from what he'd said. Was it relief, regret or sadness that you felt?

“Should we order?” he noticed the solemness settling in your face, taking the initiative to change the subject and divert your attention away from your thoughts. “How about we order our usual?”

“Do you still remember mine?”

“I do. I'd never forget anything about you.”

Every part of you was filled with nostalgia once you tasted the food you grew up eating. It was a shame your fear clouded you from coming back to the restaurant, you've missed it more than you expected. However, it was probably the best choice that you made unknowingly. It wouldn't have felt the same without Sunghoon. Eating the same food with the same person that you had done so years ago proved that you would've missed his presence if he wasn't there.

“You two are going to the Olympics next month, right?” the restaurant owner, Mrs Kim, came by your table to check up on you and Sunghoon, who answered her question with a short 'yes'. She turned to you, and it was then you realised how much older she's gotten over the years of not seeing her. Time really has slipped through your fingers. “I haven't seen you in years. I was really happy to see you winning in the last Olympics,”

You bowed your head slightly, smiling at the fact that she remembered you even though you practically disappeared for a long period of time. “Thank you. I really wished I got the time to stop by too,”

“It's okay, you're probably busy, aren't you? It just makes me really, really happy to see you here with him now. I remember how you and him loved coming by to hang out and eat,” Mrs Kim reminisced thoughtfully, spreading the effect to you and possibly Sunghoon as well. She took a quick glance at the wall where your old picture was. “How about we take a new photo? I'll make sure to stick it on the wall to show how much our Olympic medallists had grown,”

You and Sunghoon laughed awkwardly, but neither of you rejected her offer either. At the same spot in the restaurant where you stood years back, in the exact position standing beside Mrs Kim with Sunghoon to her right, you smiled at the camera, listening to the click coming from the phone as the picture was taken. As Mrs Kim ran to check on the pictures, you looked over at Sunghoon, meeting his eyes at once as he had already been staring at you before that. 

It was unspoken, but you knew what he meant. This moment was something you and him both needed after everything that went down. It was a start over, a reflection on your past and reliving your memories. You were there then, also creating new memories for your future-self, looking back to feel nothing but relief that you and Sunghoon had patched up the cracks.

There was a small, genuine smile that crept onto your face. It was filled with nothing but sincere joy and relief. At that, Sunghoon reciprocated your smile, chuckling a little too. A wave of emotions flowed through the two of you in that instance, because you knew, there was nothing in this world that could ever take this moment away from you, never again. 

The next stop right after breakfast was your parents' homes. 

There was a sense of ease in the air ever since you left the restaurant. You and Sunghoon no longer were as tense as before, feeling rather comfortable in your own skin compared to the awkwardness you suffered from last time. Sunghoon couldn't hide his nervousness about going home, and if you thought about it too, you started feeling the same.

You didn't tell your parents you were visiting, after all it was an impromptu trip and you figured a surprise visit would be nice. 'Surprise' probably wouldn't be enough to describe your return together with Sunghoon. You doubted anyone could've seen this coming.

“Let's meet up after to get lunch, how does that sound?” Sunghoon and you were standing outside of his car that was parked on the sidewalk right by each of your houses. 

“Sounds good. I'll text you,”

“Sure. I'll let you know when I'm done too,” he glanced over your shoulder, looking at his house before averting his gaze to yours. It didn't take long for you to piece together what was going through his mind. Memories of your childhood, that was most likely flooding his head. “See you,”

“See you in a while too.”

It was odd. Watching Sunghoon entering his home, you couldn't get yourself to enter yours. Not because you were scared of your parents whatsoever, it was mainly due to a weird feeling clouding your senses. Every moment, everything, from the restaurant up until standing on the sidewalk with Sunghoon, it reminded you of your past that you were reliving in the present, except you were much older and had different circumstances. Growing up was weird.

Your parents were definitely surprised to see you walking through the front door. Nevertheless, they engulfed you in a hug and asked about your sudden visit. Once you mentioned Sunghoon, their eyes almost popped out, and you had to explain everything from the start to the end. 

“So, I guess we're friends again,”

“Oh, thank God,” your mother sighed dramatically, clutching onto her chest. You were already tired from her antics and it has only been an hour. “Thank God you and Sunghoon are back to being friends. I was wondering if you two will ever talk again,”

“We were almost never going to talk forever. Things weren't as smooth sailing in the beginning, but I'm glad we worked through it somehow,” you shrugged, lips flattening into a thin line. 

“Did you know Sunghoon would always visit us whenever he's back here?” your dad chimed into the conversation, it was his turn to surprise you with something new that you never knew about, so you shook your head. “He practically begged us not to tell you because he knew you'd be angry,” 

“He did?” you breathed out in disbelief and shock, not expecting Sunghoon would go out of his way to visit your parents as well. All while you and him were on bad terms, that was way more than necessary. You felt yourself melting into the couch, another level of guilt built internally. “He cared … way more than I thought.”

The day eventually rolled by swiftly after eating lunch and an early dinner with both yours and Sunghoon's family. The two families hadn't had the chance to sit down and catch up together as a whole in years. It wasn't the same in those years of bad blood, and now that everything was back to the way it should be, you could tell both families were at peace just as much as you were. Inevitably, you had to bid them goodbye with a heavy heart, accepting their wishes for the Olympics and stealing one last look to remember the moment.

The evening sun was setting soon, the sky was painted a hue of orange and yellow. You missed the feeling of watching the sunset back at home. This time around, however, you didn't feel a sense of sadness in you anymore, unlike how you did in the past. The sun was disappearing from sight as you stared out of the window. Sunghoon was bringing you to the last spot that he'd usually go to during his routine visit: your old training centre.

You still remember the last few times you visited the training centre. Once was after the Tokyo Olympics where you and some of your other teammates that you trained with at your old club came to meet some of the young swimmers. There was the other time when you personally visited to see your old coach, having the chance to speak to him privately and you could still recall the unavoidable mention of Sunghoon.

There you were, years later, walking by him along the vast swimming pool that you trained in with Sunghoon growing up, watching evening training sessions of the youth swimmers. Eventually, you and him decided to take a seat in the stands, feeling worn out after a long day. You turned to him, unwavering eyes trained on his face. “I’m surprised you would visit everytime you’re here even though you transferred,”

“It’s where everything started,” he had his attention on the training session happening below, a smile filled with reminiscence of the past slowly crept onto his lips. “It’s where all my memories are. I could remember every little memory of us being here from years ago,”

“I suppose you’re right. Whenever I’m here, I feel oddly nostalgic. Every part of the pool has a story behind it, that’s how much time we spent here,” you hugged your arms around yourself, leaning forward to get a clearer look of the swimmers’ performances. 

Sunghoon averted his gaze, turning to meet your eyes instead. There was a hint of fondness in those warm, brown irises that reflected a different version of you in them. They lingered for a beat longer before he finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re here with me this time,” there was no mistaking the sincereness in both his voice and his gaze, the truth of his was the same as how you felt. It truly was the closure that you and him needed. “You have no idea how much I missed you whenever I’m here,”

The edge of your mouth twitched, there was an unexplainable feeling in your heart, something that you’ve experienced around Sunghoon one too many times back then and it seemed to have returned once more. “And you have no idea how I feel the same about you when I’m here too.”

Going home, there was a much lighter atmosphere surrounding you and Sunghoon compared to before. You couldn’t explain it, but you just knew the trust and love that had existed in the past was coming back stronger than ever. It was a day filled with nostalgia, reminiscence and also vulnerability. You’d never thought you’d confess your inner thoughts to him until he did, being the first to open up and allowing you to realise he wasn’t the bad guy that you made him out to be in your head. He was Park Sunghoon, the same as the one you grew up with, the first boy who showed you everything and made you feel emotions you’ve never experienced. 

He was your best friend. Yet, deep inside of you, you knew in those two words, ‘best friend’, there was something more than simply just that.

One month. 30 days. 

The Paris Olympics seemed to be closer than imagined. From being a faraway dream to becoming a reality, the Olympics were the only thing clouding your thoughts day and night, just as it was for your teammates. You and your teammates have yet to stop pushing yourselves with the reminder of winning a gold medal, the weight of it made everyone tense and having a harder time to calm down. 

“Should we get some drinks tonight?” Yunjin proposed at the end of the training, looking expectantly at every one of you. “It’s the weekend and we have some time off,”

“No clubs please,” Anton threw his head back, dreading the thought of getting drunk at the club and being disoriented again, especially when the big day was coming.

“Who said we’ll be going to the club?” Yunjin’s smirk was telling you that she had a grand idea brewing in her head already. “Come to my place. I have the best drinks to offer,”

The temptation of drinking somewhere other than the club was getting to you and the others. With the accumulated stress and endless training, all you wished for was a chance to let go even for only a second. Now that Yunjin had proposed an idea that was hard to reject, the devil on your shoulder was calling for you to agree.

“I’m down,” Sunghoon was the first to agree to Yunjin’s idea, his eyes immediately meeting yours when you looked over at him. He flashed you a faint smile, giving you a drinking gesture to which you rolled your eyes at.

“You know what, me too,” Juyeon, who stood next to Sunghoon, threw his arm around Sunghoon, bouncing slightly on his heels. Following him, the others agreed too, and you inevitably went along. 

“I’ll pick you up,” Sunghoon said as he passed by you before disappearing with the guys to their locker rooms. Yunjin and Yujin were staring at you with a type of smile that you knew was up to no good. 

“What?” you wrapped your towel around you and started making your way to the locker room as well, the other two running up to catch up with you. 

“You and Sunghoon have gotten really close,” Yunjin nudged you with her elbow.

“Isn’t that what you all wanted? Since you locked me in a room with him,” you wiggled an accusatory finger at both Yunjin and Yujin who were equally guilty for conjuring up the idea and going along with it. “Is it supposed to be surprising that we’re close friends again?”

You remembered that day clearly and what exactly happened after. Once you made up with Sunghoon, you and him weren’t freed from the room immediately as you wished for it to be. Instead, you were in there for over an hour, stuck with Sunghoon and having to converse with him even though he had just witnessed your breakdown in front of him. Admittedly, it was a great bonding time that did help in repairing your relationship, but you were still holding that grudge that your friends had run off to leave you fending for yourself in that locker room.

Thankfully, their efforts were not in vain. After that, you and Sunghoon became closer as each day passed by. Although it was a little awkward and tense at some points in time, you still managed to get over it, building back the friendship that you used to have together. You could tell Coach Jeon was much more relaxed than usual seeing you and Sunghoon talk and interact. Not to mention, the trip back to your hometown has made a monumental impact on you and him, getting the closure that the both of you needed and finally putting everything behind. 

“Well…no,” Yujin interjected, a finger placed on her chin as if she was pondering deeply about something, then she turned to look at you sharply. “But, what if…”

You pulled a face at her, absolutely confused at what she was trying to mean. “What if?”

“What if,” it was Yunjin’s turn to chime in, raising her eyebrows suggestively at you. “What if you and Sunghoon—”

“Never!” you blurted out, stopping Yunjin from finishing the sentence that you knew what was going to end with. That question has been asked ever since you were kids till your teen years, and you were getting deja vu at that moment. The thought of Sunghoon and you dating has always pulled a convulsive reaction out of you.

“What?” Yunjin and Yujin shrieked, halting in their steps which prompted you to follow suit, staring frantically at them as though you’ve spoken a curse that had shook them.

“You had Park Sunghoon wrapped around your little finger since you were a kid and you never once—not even once—thought about him in that sense? Do you know how popular he is?” 

You knew Sunghoon was popular ever since you were a kid. It didn’t matter if it was in school, in the club or around your neighbourhood, his name had a reputation to it, the ‘cute swimmer boy’ was typically how people described him. The crushes people had on him were something you wished you would forget too, not because of jealousy whatsoever, but mainly because you were dragged into it for no reason at all.

“I’ve never considered it before,” you said simply, avoiding their watchful gazes, but were met with doubtful looks from the two girls. 

“Not even once?”

You swallowed, fidgeting with your towel and slowly losing your composure. There was a momentary pause that spoke more than words were needed, followed by an uncomfortable cough. “Well…maybe once,”

“Okay. Just once?” Yunjin pressed on, a satisfactory smile appearing on her lips just as imaginary devil horns appeared on her head. She knew what she was doing. 

“Or twice…” 

“Only?”

“I’m leaving!” you clutched onto your towel, not sparing your friends a single look before rushing towards the locker room. Your heartbeat was increasing at a concerning rate and it was not because you were speeding up your steps, but because of the thought of Sunghoon and your friends’ questions. This was frustrating!

Yunjin and Yujin watched as you sped walked away from them with smiles on their faces, the identical ones they had while brewing up the plan to get you and Sunghoon back together. Well, that worked, didn’t it? So, their next plan should be a guaranteed success.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

“I think I do.”

To your absolute dismay, the conversation you had with Yunjin and Yujin completely distracted you from that moment onwards. All you could think of was Sunghoon associated with the words ‘what if’ when you were in the shower, locker room until seeing the man himself in his car. You listened to him talk with the soft music in the background, the ambience itself painted a picture where a new light was shone on him, the thoughts returning in no time. 

You tried your best to avoid him when you had the chance at Yunjin’s place, taking every chance to distract yourself with your friends’ conversations while chugging down some good beer. There were a few occasions where you felt Sunghoon’s lingering stare at you, locking eyes for several seconds before being the first to look away, heat gradually crawling up to your cheeks. Damn it, Yunjin and Yujin, why did they have to put this imagery into your head? Now you can't face Sunghoon like a normal person.

“Why are you so quiet today?”

You were startled when you heard Sunghoon’s voice coming from behind you. It was right after midnight when you were sitting on one of the chairs in the balcony all by yourself, looking out at the city skyline with a half empty bottle of beer. Sunghoon made his presence known by taking a seat next to you, keeping his unwavering gaze at you, expecting an answer from you.

You. You were the reason. That was what you would’ve said if you had the guts to be as bold as you wished to be. However, that was already reserved for the Olympics, so you couldn’t bring yourself to be bold when it came to your true feelings. What were your true feelings in the first place?

“What? Oh, it’s nothing. I guess it’s just finally hitting me that the Olympics are soon. It’s quite nerve wracking,” you were lying through your teeth, and there was a small chance he could see through you.

Sunghoon propped one hand on his knee, leaning a little close to you, his eyes trained onto your face, the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of the beer lingered in the air between you and him. “You’re nervous? The Y/N L/N is nervous? That’s something new,”

“Quit teasing,” you slapped his arm in a lighthearted manner, resisting the urge to smile when you saw his face lighting up. “Everyone’s expectations are a heavy burden. Maybe I got older and became a little more aware of everything, but I’m finally realising not only our country is placing their hopes on us, the entire team is too,”

The emotional side of you was making its appearance once more just as it always does when you drink. Last time it was about Sunghoon, and this time it was with Sunghoon, you should be proud of the progress. Taking a swig of your beer, you tried to hide your vulnerability by acting as casual as you could. It has been ages since you and Sunghoon had these types of conversations, especially now that you’ve just recently patched things up, the last thing you wanted was to dump your worries on him.

“Do you still remember what they called us?” he placed his beer bottle onto the ground, the cool night air brushing against his hair, a slight tinge of pink painted on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. You ignored how close he was to you, your knees brushing against one another at times, his cologne being the only thing you could breathe in, every single detail of his features being as clear as day in the night. “‘National treasures’. That’s what we are. That is what I think you are. Despite everything, whether it is losing or winning, it’s something nobody could ever take away from you. Take the burden and turn it into your strength. No one would blame you for any kinds of outcome,”

There was a beat of silence, you were blinking at him, absolutely lost for words. You were touched, the emotional imbalance wasn’t helping either as it made you feel a bottle of surging emotions. Most importantly, you could feel your heart skipping a beat. Was that supposed to be normal? You ignored the telling signs, opting to feign nonchalance and breaking into a smile. “Since when did you get so matured?”

Sunghoon let out a soft chuckle, turning away from you to look at the night sky instead. He breathed in deeply, exhaling just a second after, a comfortable silence settled for a split moment. “We’re the protagonists of the world,” he said without missing a beat, then he glanced back at you with a fiery spark in those brown irises of his. “That’s what we used to tell each other, isn’t it? So, what’s stopping us from being that again?”

He remembered. He remembered everything. Every little detail that you thought to be too insignificant for him to recall, every small moments you had together, every word you said to him, he never once forgot them. There was a slight widening of your eyes as you processed what he just said, the realisation eventually pulled a laugh of amusement out of you, a sudden wave of reminiscence filled your heart up. 

“You’re right. We’re born to be national treasures and the protagonists of the world. You and I.”

Landing in Paris was a dream come true. 

Not only were you accompanied by the entirety of the national team, but you had your closest friends by your side, the anticipation for victories were apparent in every one of you. Yunjin and Yujin couldn’t contain their excitement throughout the whole plane ride either. They were bugging you about the food choices available, the opening ceremony leading up to the design of the medals. It was a miracle you managed to sleep despite their constant bickerings.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Yunjin whispered to you as the team were en route to the Olympic Village. 

“It is. It truly is,” you had a dazed look in your eyes, the passing sceneries of the city mesmerised you with the reality of you actually being there gradually hit you. “A once in four years opportunity. It is our time now.”

Unpacking your luggage was a hefty job once you’ve arrived at your assigned room in the village. You shared the lodging with your two best friends along with your other teammates from the swimming team, so there was nothing much to worry about except for the amount of gossip that would happen in that space alone. No matter how tired you all were, you had no choice but to power through it and get ready for the opening ceremony in the evening.

The opening ceremony was an unforgettable experience to say the least. You were dressed in a simple suit just as the others were too, the team uniform was the only thing taking up your line of sight as you stood on the boat that was cruising along the Seine River. Countless spectators were crowded on the bridge overlooking the river, waving to the boats passing by.

“I can’t believe we’re on a boat. We didn’t have this in Tokyo,” Yunjin whisper-shouted to you, recounting the opening ceremony back in Tokyo four years ago while waving the flag in her hand with great enthusiasm. 

“It’s not everyday you get to be on a boat in some expensive suit in Paris,” you threw an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder, pulling her close to your side. 

“And it’s not everyday you’re just casually participating in the Olympics,” Yujin added, doing the same to you and pulling you closer to her, eliciting a laugh from both you and Yunjin. It really was a miracle and a dream to have your best friends competing with you at such a big event, and that wasn’t something anyone could just brag about.

Halfway through the boat ride, you managed to squeeze past many familiar faces from your national team, some were even athletes you looked up to, and it made you feel like a fan all over again. However, that wasn’t your main goal for searching around the large boat. It was the person that came to your mind ever since you landed in Paris.

“Sunghoon!” 

He turned around at the sound of your voice calling after him, his curious gaze landed on you, warmth and familiarity filled his eyes at the sight of you accompanied by a boyish smile he would have whenever he was with you. There was no way he could hide his excitement of seeing you from the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the sides, looking at you as if you were the only person in his field of vision. 

“Hey,” he breathed out once you reached his side, the both of you leaned against the railings and looked out at the river. “Tired?”

“Very. Can’t you tell I’ve put concealer over my dark circles? I think the jet lag might hit soon,” you dramatically pointed at your under eye area, the frown on your face only pulled a humorous laugh out of Sunghoon. 

“Rest up. Our first event is tomorrow,” 

“Already?” you threw your head back, groaning at the thought of early morning training. 

“Crazy, isn’t it? I have back-to-back events too,”

“Who asked you to sign up for so many anyway?” you nudged his side teasingly, sharing a brief moment of eye contact. 

“I’m very passionate about swimming,” 

“Sure you are,” you snickered quietly at him, sharing the same smile he had on his face. Slowly, you turned to look at him, resting your elbow on the railing. “You’re not pushing yourself too hard, right?”

He averted his gaze from the view in front of him, glancing at you instead and meeting your rather intense eyes that held a message that he knew to decipher before you could explain further. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. There was a hint of hesitance in his movements for a split second, but then he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m really glad I got to spend this Olympic with you,”

Given the last Olympics in Tokyo where you and he were still in the cold war era, it never once occurred to you that you’ve wasted a precious moment with him. It could’ve been a good memory where you experienced your first Olympics with the person that’s been by your side since day one. Four years since then, in this present time, staring at his delicate features with a crowd cheering around you, there was nothing you would trade to replace this moment with him. 

“I’m glad you’re here with me this time,”

His smile grew wider, eventually reaching his eyes that contained sparks which grew brighter as time passed. Your breath hitched, the air around you seemed to grow thicker, the breeze swept across your face, blowing against your hair. Yet, all you could do was be frozen in place, becoming much aware of the feeling of his skin on yours. How were you to explain the weird sensation of your heart tightening and racing quicker than normal? You were too young to experience cardiovascular diseases! 

Something in you knew it wasn’t symptoms of any heart diseases, it was the signs of love. That was much more frightening to you than anything else. 

“Are you…okay? You dazed out for a bit,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality after having an internal conflict with yourself. 

“What? Oh—I’m fine. Just a little jetlagged. I told you it’s setting in,” you laughed with a nervous undertone to it, trying to wave off any suspicion along with your own thoughts about Sunghoon. 

“Get enough sleep tonight. I’ll be there rooting for you tomorrow. After all, your event is before mine, so I’ll be giving you my every support,” he squeezed your hand gently, unbeknownst to him, his action along with the feeling of it travelled to your heart, triggering it to thump harder against your chest. “You better swim at your best, okay? I’ll always be able to see right through you,”

‘I know you’. You remembered it as clear as day, as though it happened just yesterday. Sunghoon’s words brought back the memory of what he had said to you during your first few altercations in training. It was a fact. There was no need for you to deny it or try to avoid that, because both you and Sunghoon knew, no matter what, you’d be able to see through one another and be the best judges of each other’s performances. After all those years, this seemed to have not changed.

You scoffed lightheartedly, turning your face away from him for a moment to hide your flushed state before facing him once again, putting up a front of casualness. “Who are you? Coach Jeon?”

He snorted at the mention of your coach, shaking his head a little. “I think Coach Jeon would be pissed if you didn’t do your best,” he was stating the obvious, considering your coach has the sharpest eyes when it comes to everyone’s performances, there was no way anyone would dare to do so. Sunghoon raised his eyebrows at you, the slightest smile resting on his lips. “But I don’t think that’ll happen. Ever. Y/N L/N, the person I know my whole life, would never slack off or put zero effort into your swim. So, just do your best,”

“You, do your best, too. I’m hoping we can return home with medals around our necks,”

“Of course we are,” he said without any hesitation whatsoever, straightening his spine and wearing a confident smile, never once loosening his hold on your hand. You forgot Sunghoon tends to be the one who had more confidence than you before every competition. It has been that way ever since you were kids, and it seemed to have continued onto the present day. “Did you forget? We’re national treasures. We’ll always bring a medal home. This time, however, it’s going to be gold,”

“You better stick to your words,” you pointed a finger at him, the thought of winning the gold medal excited you, but it also scared you. To Sunghoon, it was just another challenge for him to tackle. 

“I will, and you better give it your all to win that gold too. I want to win it together with you … like how we used to.” 

Nostalgia was certainly dangerous. You couldn’t help smiling at the mention of the past, thinking about the times you and Sunghoon won gold medals in your individual events. The pictures taken together with a gold medal hanging around each of your neck, smiling innocently with pure joy from winning resided in a thick photobook, becoming memories that you would never let go. It might’ve been different this time compared to the competitions from your childhood as it was the Olympics, the pressure and expectations were higher on you and him. Despite all that, the dynamic between you and Sunghoon remained the same.

Looking out at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, you realise this Olympics wasn’t just a chance to fulfil your dreams, your country’s expectations, but also the hope and dream you shared with Sunghoon since you were kids. The last Olympics might’ve not gone as well as you wished it had in terms of your friendship with Sunghoon, so this was a chance for you to turn things around. Not to mention, your inner voice bugged you constantly about your complicated feelings that have yet to have an answer. Now, that was another problem to solve.

First, you’ve got to get that gold medal. Secondly, you must figure out your true feelings for your best friend. Between the two, the latter seemed much harder than the Olympic gold medal.

“You’re telling me you thought of Sunghoon in a romantic way?”

Breaking the news while you’re warming up half an hour before the finals of your first event was probably the worst timing possible. It was even worse for Yujin and Yunjin who had just finished their semifinal round for their butterfly event. 

Quite frankly, you couldn’t blame yourself either. The thought of it was spilling at the seams since its first appearance prior to the Olympics. From that point onwards, it only seems to plague you further by taking over your mind. You were lucky you managed to make it to the top three out of the eight to qualify to the finals. The first day was already chaotic for you, to top it all off, you just couldn’t avoid Sunghoon entirely and thus, the thoughts about him worsened.

“Well, correction, ‘thinking’, not ‘thought’,” you said meekly, attempting to hide your face by stretching, but your two friends weren’t letting you go easily.

“Present tense?” Yujin shrieked, earning odd stares from reporters and other competitors around you. She pursed her lips, lowering her gaze before narrowing it at you. “So, you do have feelings for him?”

“I don’t know? It’s not confirmed … yet. I think?”

“You haven’t made up your mind yet,” Yunjin hummed, seemingly much calmer than Yujin from the looks of her demeanour. “You’re in denial. I do think you have some feelings if you couldn’t stop thinking about him,”

You stopped your actions, deciding you were done warming up, but remained motionless, a defeated sigh eventually left your lips. “What do I do?”

“Own up to it. Face it,” Yunjin stated plainly, receiving a groan from you as a response. 

“Easier said than done. The last thing I want to do is to ruin our friendship right after fixing it,” 

Yujin looked at you with the softest gaze, much rather in sympathy at your pathetic state. “That won’t happen. How do you know it’s unrequited? What if Sunghoon feels the same way?”

“Impossible,”

“Hey! Don’t make any conclusions before knowing the truth,” Yunjin landed a smack to the back of your head, and as much as you knew you deserved that wake up call, you still hissed at the sting.

“You’re right. I think I’m overcomplicating everything,”

“You are,” Yujin was straightforward, even if her honest truth was a cut to the skin, her rubbing your back in reassurance was a way to patch the wound. “How about we have a debrief tonight at dinner? You should be focusing on what’s much more important now,”

“The fucking finals, Y/N! The 400m freestyle finals! You’re against Ledecky, you should be more worried about her than Sunghoon,” Yunjin surely made a point, and it did help in giving you additional assurance. 

You couldn’t resist laughing, especially at their rather interesting way of encouragement and comfort. “Let's talk about this tonight then. I’ll make sure to swim my best later,”

“Duh, when will you ever not? Come on, Sunghoon’s 400m freestyle final is starting. Do you want to watch that or dodge him?”

“Of course I’d want to watch it. After all, he’s still my best friend and I told him I'll be there to support him,” you remembered the unspoken promise you had with Sunghoon to win the gold medal together. With your first finals happening back-to-back, the desperation to achieve your life-long dream with each other had personally overwhelmed the thought of your nation placing their entire hope on your back.

Being at the poolside gave you a slap in the face with the reality that you were in the finals and you weren’t hallucinating every part of it. You were with some of your other competitors for the finals, some were doing last warm-ups while some were sitting and waiting for the men to start their finals. You were one of those waiting for the event to begin. From the looks of your legs shaking, it was hard to determine who you were nervous for. Yourself or Sunghoon? 

The swimmers soon take their places at their individual starting block. You could spot Coach Jeon giving Sunghoon some last minute advice before giving the boy an encouraging pat in the back, sending him off to his spot. At one point, you wondered if you were staring too intensely at the back of Sunghoon’s head. It was as if he could feel your stare and your presence simultaneously, opting to look over his shoulder instead of stretching like the other swimmers. One look was all it took for Sunghoon to spot you. He had the same spark in his eyes as the moment he saw you on the boat during the open ceremony.

His shoulders evidently sagged in relief. He breathed in deeply, followed by a striking smile that he casted specifically at you. In those years of competing together, you barely had times where your events were back-to-back, but whenever there were opportunities as such, either you or him would be relieved to see one another. Just one glance, and it’d calm your racing heart in no time. To you this time, however, instead of slowing down your beating heart, his presence only made your heart work ten times harder than usual.

Sunghoon had no choice but to take his eyes off of you once they gave out the signal to the swimmers to take their places on the starting block. Your eyes were trained solely on him, unable to tear them away from his figure as you watched him pull his goggles over his head. Quietly, and routinely, you prayed for the best.

There was a loud electronic beep that was followed by the swimmers diving into the pool, a sound of water splashing filled the arena and from that, the cheers increased by ten folds. You could barely breathe as you stared at the large projector that displayed the live televised scene of what’s happening before you, giving everyone a much better view of the action in the pool. 

Sunghoon was currently in a tight spot with both the German and Australian swimmers relentlessly chasing after the first place. There were times when the top three would overtake each other to secure the gold medal position just to fall back. It was only the second lap out of the eight, but you could feel yourself unconsciously gripping onto your chair tightly. To the spectators and fans, the thrill of the competition between the swimmers spurred them alive, the atmosphere in the arena became increasingly wilder from the shouts and cheers.

The swimmers completed each lap with vigour, swimming back and forth for eight laps without stopping for a second, the last lap was soon approaching once you saw Sunghoon kicked his feet off the wall, heading back to the starting spot for one last time. The underwater battle between him and the other two swimmers was becoming much more fierce, leaving the rest of the swimmers to trail behind them. 

There was barely any gap between the three of them till the point where it became hard to determine who was in the lead. The tension was high, the fans in the crowd were shouting louder while waving the flags of their countries. You could hardly get your eyes off of the screen, the name of your best friend was displayed on the lane he was swimming in, the distance between them and the starting point was closer as each second passed.

Nobody dared to blink the next moment. Once their hands touched the walls, it was already the signal of the end. Every swimmer stopped once they had finished their lap, holding onto the edge and waiting for the results. The screams from the people watching in the stands became a hundred times louder when the leaderboard revealed the names of the top three winners. You averted your gaze to the three names, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Sunghoon’s name sitting in second place.

The camera panned over to show Sunghoon on the screen. There was a hint of disappointment that was hard to hide, but you could tell he was trying to put on a smile. Losing the gold medal was frustrating, however, at the end of the day, he was still a winner of the silver medal, making him the first athlete to clinch an Olympic medal for the country this early on in the campaign. 

The swimmers eventually got out of the pool, rushing to interviews or choosing to freshen up by changing into their tracksuits. The medalists were busy tending to the reporters and once they were done, they rushed off to change so that they could get ready for the award ceremony. That was when Coach Jeon approached you, reminding you that your own event was starting soon. 

“Ready?” he patted your shoulder, giving his best to offer any form of encouragement that seemed to not have successfully calmed you down entirely. 

“Not really, but I’ll be okay,”

“Just remember what we always practised. Those months of hard work will not be in vain, you hear me? Go out there and prove to everyone that you’re Y/N L/N. The star swimmer of the national team.”

‘Y/N L/N, the star swimmer of the national team’. You never expected that the title which has been thrown around in headlines for years to finally become somewhat significant to you until this moment. You were in a designated staging room waiting for the award ceremony to end and at the same time, to get ready for yours. The small television screen in the corner of the wall was broadcasting the entirety of the ceremony, the commentators’ voices were drowned out by the chatters in the room, and your sole focus was on Sunghoon who stood behind the podium. 

The moment his name was announced, he stepped onto the podium, accepting the silver medal that was hung around his neck. There was a small smile on his face as he waved to the crowds, a smile you knew very well whenever he wasn’t fully satisfied with his own results. Apparently he hasn’t changed much over the years when it comes to swimming. 

“We’re starting in five minutes!”

That reminder brought you back to your own reality that you had to face undoubtedly. The second the awards ceremony ended as fast as it had started, preparations for your event began and not long after that, the names of every competitor were announced in order. You walked out of the tunnel right as your name was called, the sound reverberated around the arena, the cheers that followed were loud enough to shake the ground of Paris. You’ve missed this feeling.

Standing before the pool with a large crowd was indeed nerve wracking after months of not competing and swimming in a pool with no spectators around. Even though you did swim with the crowd watching the day before for the preliminary round, you felt the difference at that moment knowing it was the finals. Everyone in that arena was placing their hopes on the athletes from their own countries, it was the same for you, but nothing could compare to how you and your competitors actually felt.

There was a buzz that signalled every one of you to take your places on the starting block. At that point, everything seems clearer to you. The water in the pool, the people in the crowd, your country’s flag, all of them were the reason why you felt almost unbeatable, they gave you strength. The beeping sound of the countdown matched the rhythm of your heartbeat, ever so calmly and steady. 

Just as it did for the finals prior to this one, the electronic beep sounded once more and you kicked off from your starting block, diving into the pool with nothing but the goal of finishing the eight laps in your mind. Time stood still, the only thing filling your vision was the bottom of the pool along with your competitors in your peripheral vision. You didn’t know what was happening above the water or which place you were currently in, with every breath you inhaled, you wished time could stop for a second. 

Every contact with the wall gave you a purpose to keep pushing forward. More than half of the eight laps were completed, all you needed was to push yourself further. It was hard being trapped with yourself and your own thoughts, the constant ideas of what would happen after this kept bugging you even as you swam. Time was, in fact, ticking. The eight laps were soon coming to an end. There was just one last lap from you and you’d be done. 

The starting point seemed distant from your point of view. All you could wish for was your extended hand to quickly make contact with the wall. With every pump of your heart, you counted down to the moment you’ve anticipated for. One, two, three …

One slight graze of your finger against the wall marked the end of your lap. You grabbed onto the edge tightly, emerging to the surface of the water and inhaling a deep breath. Practically snatching your goggles off, your head snapped towards the direction of the leaderboard. Your name sat between the Australian and American swimmers. 

Second place. 3 minutes and 58 seconds, only a second away from first place.

You shut your eyes for at least a few seconds, forcefully swallowing your disappointment down after as you congratulated your competitors. It was the first event out of the many you were competing in. You remained optimistic even as you answered questions from the reporters, though you wished they would cut down on the gold medal questions this early into the campaign. 

On the way to the changing room, you spot a familiar face hanging around with your coach and several other of your teammates. The sight alone brought comfort to you and your heart, there was no chance of you resisting the urge to run up to them. Anton had already beaten you to it, being the first out of the group to spot you and practically shouting your name for the whole world to know.

“Congrats! You kept your spot in the 400m freestyle,” Anton wasted no time in giving you a one handed hug. The others followed too, giving you different variations of a hug.

“I wish I could’ve upgraded, you know?”

“It’s better than none, right? But I do know what you mean, and I believe you’ve done your best,” Anton gave your shoulder a light squeeze, offering a warm smile.

“You did good, Y/N. You were in great form today, but sometimes there’ll be people with better form. Don’t let that get to you and focus on the next event, okay?” Coach Jeon patted you softly on your back, recognising the disappointment in your tone. “Go on and change up, the awards ceremony is soon. Let’s go and not bother Y/N first. We’ll see you later,”

Coach Jeon gave you one last pat on the back then left with the others trailing behind him, all of them cheering you on as they passed you. In the end, it was always your team who’s your biggest support system. That has never changed over the years, and it would never change even for the future, you were very sure of that. 

Amongst the group of your teammates who had already left, one happened to stay back and waited for the chance to speak to you alone. You didn’t expect seeing this person would bring you more comfort after losing the lead. Not a hug or some encouraging words, his presence alone was what you needed in times like this, just the same as it was years ago.

“Hey,” Sunghoon had his hands tucked into his pants, the silver medal was still hanging around his neck. You figured he had just finished taking pictures and was freshly done with the press conference. From the tiredness in his voice, you wished he had gone off to rest as well, but knowing him, he would rather see you first than do all that.

“Hey,” you said back, letting him be the one to walk towards you and closing the gap. Pointing at the silver medal that he was sporting, you stared at him with a knowing smile. “You better not beat yourself up over this,” you landed a firm punch to his shoulder, but unlike how he would’ve usually reacted, he just accepted it with a grin growing on his lips, neither dodging or groaning from it. There was something so soft about his eyes that stared back at you, an unreadable mix of emotions that you’ve never seen before reflected in his those brown irises. 

“I won’t,” he chuckled, hands unknowingly reaching to touch his silver medal. “After all, this is only the beginning. There’ll be a gold medal soon,”

“I need some of your confidence. You’re always so certain about your goals and you’d end up achieving it,” you pointed out without a second thought, and you weren’t exactly wrong either, earning an amused chuckle from him. “You better let me wear the gold medal once you win it,”

“Hey, didn’t we have this conversation before? We’re both winning the gold medal. Don’t forget that,” he frowned at you, thick eyebrows knitting together and it only made you smile in endearment. “I’m not winning this without you. I want to achieve our dream together,”

“You’re ridiculous,” you let out in disbelief, but from the look on Sunghoon’s face, you knew he was dead serious. Sunghoon was determined to achieve this goal with you no matter what, and he was going to succeed despite the circumstances. Just as you’ve said, Sunghoon has always achieved his goals that he was certain of, this one was the same as the rest to him.

“You said I’m certain about my goals, so here I am. I’m sure we’d win it. Together.” 

There was an overflowing amount of sureness in his conviction till the point where it had influenced you gradually. If there was one thing about Sunghoon, it’d be the fact that once he’s set his mind on something, he’d do anything to get it. You were just worried that mindset would wear him out in the long run if something didn’t go his way.

“I’ll hold you to it then,”

“Hey Y/N! The ceremony is starting in five minutes! Go change up! I’ll see you out there,” the American swimmer who secured third place, Katie Ledecky, spotted you still unchanged and in your swimsuit. 

“Oh—alright! Thanks!” you waved at her, casting her an appreciative smile, and once she was out of sight, you turned back to Sunghoon, looking rather awkward at the sudden interruption. “I need to get going—”

“Right. I’m sorry for holding you up,”

“No, it’s okay. I’m … really glad I got to see you before going out there. I’m less nervous now,” 

“Really?”

“Really,”

A beat of silence filled the space between you right after. Internally, you were freaking out for admitting your thoughts so freely as you’ve just done. What was Sunghoon going to think now that you’ve said that? Would he interpret it as something else? What if—

“I’ll get going now. See you after the ceremony,”

“See you!”

There you went scurrying away from Sunghoon like a coward with your heart rate increasing, mentally cursing at yourself for your slip of a tongue. At any moment, you might as well confess your deeply hidden inner feelings to him. The gold medal, the pressure of winning and the expectations from everyone else could no longer amount to the stress of your true feelings towards Park Sunghoon. 

Even as you stood on the podium with everyone watching, you couldn’t bring yourself to take your mind off of Sunghoon. In the midst of the crowd, you could easily spot him together with your teammates. It was your moment, your victory, the few times you could call yourself a winner on a stage as big as this, but the only person you could think of was your best friend. 

The same best friend that grew up watching movies at your house, sometimes staying up too late just because you couldn't stop talking and wishing the night would never end. He was your best friend who would tell you stories about how one day you'd both be competing at the Olympics, and he was the one who'd hold your hand whenever you felt overwhelmed no matter where you were.

You had always thought those weird feelings you'd have in your heart were common everytime he said something to you or whenever he held your hands. Never once you thought those nights you stayed up with him, lying on your bedroom floor, talking about your futures where you stared at him with something other than platonic love in your eyes was odd. You remembered the time he laughed so hard until his eyes turned crescent shaped, and that was when you felt your heart skipping a beat, not knowing this wasn't as common as it seemed. 

It was not normal. None of those things were ever normal. All of them went flying over your head instead. In that moment, while the national anthem played in the background, you've come to finally realise you've always felt this way for Sunghoon since forever. Those years together were just you denying your feelings for him, avoiding the fear of ruining your friendship. Up until now, you still had that underlying fear especially with the fall out that happened. But your heart was screaming louder at you, clouding the fear and pushing you towards him.

With the applause and camera flashes going off, you forced a smile, the grip on the flowers and your medal tightened, because it finally dawned on you, the undeniable truth that you've suppressed for almost your life was emerging. 

You're in love with Park Sunghoon.

Nothing has been the same for you ever since coming to terms with the realisation that you romantically loved Sunghoon.

Your friends could tell you were acting a little off that day when you won your first medal, barely able to swallow down your food during dinner as you talked about Sunghoon. Even though you initially shrugged it off by saying it was just jet lag, it didn’t take long before you cracked and confessed the actual truth to your friends. Did they see it coming beforehand? Absolutely. Were they helpful? Not so. ‘Just tell him’, ‘I think he feels the same’ were the inputs from your friends that seemed to have made your head a mess.

You’ve always been brave. There were times where you had to face challenges thrown at you from every direction and somehow you managed to deal with them. For instance, you got through your injuries with courage and determination, nobody doubted that fact. But when it came to your feelings, bravery and determination was practically nonexistent, only quiet longing and pining existed.

“You better not beat yourself up over this,” the familiar words coming from Sunghoon who appeared beside you almost made you jump in surprise. 

Another silver medal won, another close chance to get gold, merely missing by a small margin. You wished to be as optimistic as you were at the beginning, but the disappointment seemed to have built up gradually. The reminder from Sunghoon made you smile upon realising that he had just repeated what you said to him before, it was a genuine smile unlike the one that you put on the podium. 

“I’ll try not to,” you removed the medal from your neck, clutching onto it in your hand. “After all, you did say a gold medal is coming soon, didn’t you?”

“I did. Don’t you remember we’re having the mixed medley relay in less than an hour?”

“Right. Our first event together,” your grip on your medal tightened unconsciously, the sudden awareness of your feelings towards him was causing your brain to haywire. Why now? “We haven’t competed together since we were fifteen,”

“I don’t think they saw I’m promising in mixed and men's medley,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled the day he was announced to be replaced in the line up. “How ironic it is that I’m back to square one,”

“Must be fate, isn’t it? The domino effect that led us here,” you marvelled at the fact that your reconciliation with Sunghoon happened at the cost of Yeonjun’s demise. Sunghoon seemed to have caught onto the gist of the meaning behind your words, shaking his head and laughing quietly. 

“I hope Yeonjun’s doing fine,”

“He is. He’s just bummed that he had to miss the Olympics. I’m surprised at how nonchalant he is about it though,” 

“Maybe, maybe not. You’d never know. Anyway, I think we should get going, we need to get ready with the rest,” he gave your back a light pat, nodding his head over to where your coach and teammates stood, signalling for you to go there together. In less than thirty minutes, you’d be swimming in the mixed medley relay, not knowing what the outcome would be like against the other powerful teams, especially with Sunghoon as a replacement, it was impossible to predict anything. 

“What do you think might happen?” You couldn’t help wondering aloud as you and Sunghoon made your way, occasionally stealing glances at the pool where the current event was taking place.  

“It’s hard to say. I’ve never done this before and making it to the finals was already a miracle for someone who has little experience like me. I just hope this will be the moment,” he had a small pensive frown, eyebrows furrowed as if he was fighting with his thoughts internally. You instantly knew what he meant by ‘the moment’, the silver medal in your hand somehow becoming heavier at the longing for your shared desire of winning the gold medal.

Despite the tense atmosphere with the pressure to win the gold medal, you managed to let out a genuine, carefree laugh, looping your arm around Sunghoon’s in the heat of the moment. Unbeknownst to you, he tensed for a second and his eyes were flickering in panic at your touch. You turned to look at him, a wide, infectious grin plastered on your face, reminding Sunghoon of many moments you shared with him in the past, feeling a sudden surge of deja vu but also an unfamiliar sensation gripping at his chest. 

“With us together, I’m sure we’d be the protagonists of the world, like always.”

Walking out of the tunnel with you and your teammates names being announced to the whole arena to hear was a surreal moment. You had ignored the way your heart raced from the simplest action of holding Sunghoon’s hand for a split second when all of you raised your interlocked hands in greeting to the fans. It was torture to pretend you were completely normal even when Sunghoon casted you a smile right after you dropped your hands. It was almost as if he knew and was mocking you.

“Alright guys,” Anton started, taking the chance while all you were huddled together removing your tracksuits. “After our months of training together and from the results recorded each time, I’m sure we’ll be able to face this and get a medal home. Don’t think much, we’re going to win this,”

Anton, being the group’s hype man for every competition, didn’t fail to restore the heavy atmosphere yet again. The rest of you smiled at his encouraging words that were filled with confidence, making quiet cheers and taking turns to give him a grateful pat in the back. There were some wishes of good luck and last encouragements shared around the group before Anton took his position on the starting block, being the first to begin for the backstroke leg in the relay. 

The electronic buzz was no stranger to any of you by then. At the sound of it, every swimmer dived into the pool, swimming faced up with their arms moving in a windmill-like fashion. You could tell Yujin and Sunghoon were both holding their breaths, watching Anton and the two other swimmers fighting for the lead. Hell, you were too, wishing you could choose to close your eyes instead.

Before you knew it, Sunghoon was already making his way to the starting block to get in position. The time was ticking, you knew it was selfish but you couldn’t help yourself from grasping onto his hand, stopping him in his steps, catching him off guard like a deer in headlights. “Good luck,” it was nothing much, a simple expression just like any other, yet you couldn’t explain the reason why you had to tell it to him personally.

It wasn’t obvious, but from the looks of his expressions softening, melting into a relieved smile as if a huge boulder had been taken off his shoulders, Sunghoon seemed to have needed to hear it from you just as much as you needed to tell it to him. “Thank you. Really.”

You let go of his hand, watching as he took his position the same way as he had always done in practices. There was a sense of calmness around him. He fixed his swim cap once, pulling on his goggles after, strictly in a particular order that he followed since the start of his career. His small habits and the superstitions he believed in never changed even after all those years.  

The moment Anton was nearing, Sunghoon dived into the pool. Your head snapped to the leaderboard displayed on the big screen, heart nearly stopping at the sight of the team being in first place at that moment. Yujin followed your sight, letting out a breath of disbelief. You turned to meet her eyes, exchanging a knowing look and placed your arms around the other. Nothing could compare to the anxiety you were feeling as the person who was going last.

Yujin was the next to dive into the pool after Sunghoon reached the starting point. He climbed out, absolutely drenched and breathing heavily from the swim. Anton went up to him and gave him a wordless squeeze to the shoulder, letting Sunghoon catch his breath first while they watched the scene unfolding before them. 

Soon, it was your cue to get in position on the starting block. Anton patted your shoulder, saying a haste ‘good luck’ once more as you made your way there. Sunghoon was quiet, he knew you more than anyone would, and in that exact second, he understood that you didn’t need another word of encouragement. Instead, he held onto your hand, squeezing it tightly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he nodded his head, a slight smile on his lips. That was truly all you needed from him.

The feeling when you pulled your goggles over your head, eyes facing straight on the water was simply unexplainable, complex even. It was the same as it had been for days, months, years, but this time, in this exact instant, why did everything feel different? Was it because of the lead and the pressure to uphold it as the person in the last leg? You shook away every one of those intrusive thoughts, focusing on Yujin getting closer. 

Just as she got close enough, you knew it was your cue to dive into the pool, letting the water engulf you whole as you kicked your legs, propelling yourself upward to the surface. Your hands and legs were working in tandem, going over the limit to execute your best movement. Every intake of air was scarce, filling your lungs with the right amount as you turned your head each time. 

Before you knew it, you had already reached one point, executing a swift flip turn, then you were swimming towards the starting point, towards the end of the relay. You had no idea what was happening above the water, whether or not you were still maintaining the lead, all you could was empty your mind and swim despite the tiredness wearing you down after having to compete in another event earlier on. You finally understood the struggles of having two finals in a day that your teammates would constantly complain about at that moment. 

You didn’t dare to move your head a single inch, maintaining the perfect position as you swam even though you were curious how far you were from the other end of the wall. Time was slow when you were the one swimming, the concept of everything happening around you was unknown to you. Your heart dropped to your stomach the second you felt your finger lightly brush against the wall, instantly gripping onto the edge with overwhelming suspense to know what the results were. You were holding your breath as you resurfaced, ears muffled for a split second before you were swarmed with your teammates who all crouched by you, barely having the chance to spare a glance at the leaderboard.

“We won! We fucking won!” Yujin shouted, barely containing her emotions as tears started streaming down her face, swim cap gripped tightly in her hands. 

“We did it. Oh my God,” Anton exclaimed, letting his own emotions overwhelm him as he buried his face into his hands, not budging when Yujin wrapped her arms around him.

Sunghoon reached his hand out to you, his eyes were rimmed with a soft crimson hue, the redness highlighting the raw vulnerability within that he tried so hard to mask. The lashes glistened with unshed tears, and the whites of his eyes seemed to shimmer, revealing the depth of his unspoken feelings. Each blink threatened to spill over, this moment was what you and him have been waiting for. “We finally did it. We made it.”

You accepted his hand, allowing him to help you out of the water, but before he could fully stand straight, you had already pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Sunghoon melted into your touch, holding you close to him with his arms around you with no space left for you to move. The leaderboard was turning blurry in your vision that was gradually filling with tears, your grip on him tightening and your head leaned onto his shoulder, tears mixing with the pool water on his skin. 

He pulled away for a moment, hands still holding onto you, never wanting to let go for just a split second. There was nothing said, yet you could feel every emotion he was trying to convey through his eyes. Those shaking hands of his travelled from your waist to your face, cradling it in them, the softness of his palm pressed against your skin. It was fast, him leaning in to press a kiss that lasted longer than a second, the aftermath of it being you and him staring at each other with a mixed reaction of surprise and softness. Before you could say anything, he pulled you back into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter than ever. 

The cheers around you were drowned out, the presence of the other swimmers were long forgotten, all you could think of was you and Sunghoon only. As you held onto each other as if there was no tomorrow, you never knew how impactful this win was to you and him. If either of you had won your first gold medal in your individual events, everything would’ve turned out differently. But with this shared win, the long awaited gold medal win that you and him swore to achieve together, your dreams had come true, and it was done side by side. 

Standing on the podium next to your teammates and most importantly, the person that you’ve been through thick and thin with, receiving the gold medal that hung around your neck perfectly, you wondered if it was all a daydream. You reached for Sunghoon’s hand, slipping yours into his that he instinctively accepted, glancing at you with the widest smile in his face that was immediately burned into your brain, an image that was impossible to recreate. It was real, everything was real. The win, the feeling of victory, your unwavering feelings for the man that was holding onto your hand tightly, all of those were equally real. 

“What should we do to celebrate?” Anton had his eyes glued on his gold medal the rest of the day, unable to store it away for just a second. Every one of you thought he might’ve already developed an attachment to it.

“Sleep, rest. We still have our last day tomorrow,” Yujin let out a massive yawn, muscles worn out for the time being to even be able to muster any leftover energy. Unfortunately, you had no choice but to agree with her, the only one who seemed to have enough energy to celebrate was Anton.

“Right, the men and women’s medley relay finals,” Anton murmured, his enthusiasm for a celebration was crushed after realising he still had one more event to go before being able to celebrate fully. “Ready for another round, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, who only looked rather dreadful at the mention of their next and last event, showed a frown as a response, thinking about the possibilities that would emerge from the big event. “I’m scared. China and the US … France—”

Anton, carefree as always, slapped Sunghoon in the back. “Don’t be pessimistic, we’ll be fine. Isn’t that true, Y/N?”

You averted your attention away from the screen of your phone, looking up and unknowingly meeting Sunghoon’s eyes almost at once. It was unexpected, the intensity of his stare was all you needed to know that he had been stealing glances at you before this. The suddenness of it made you fluster for a second, nearly forgetting what Anton had just said. “Y–yeah, you guys will be fine. The team medalled at the world championships anyway,”

“You hear that? Don’t worry about tomorrow. Let’s bask in the glory!” Anton threw his arms around Sunghoon, successfully stealing his attention and giving you a chance to look away, calming your heart that was beating out of control. 

Taking down one challenge at a time for your forte. With a gold medal secured, you’ve succeeded at the main task at hand. Now that your biggest obstacle was gone, there came another tumbling towards you: Park Sunghoon. You swore to yourself you’d get a gold medal first before dealing with that, and since you’ve always been someone who stuck to your words, it seemed to have come to haunt you instead.

Mission ‘tell Sunghoon how you feel’ was about to be tougher and scarier, probably a much higher chance of a heartbreak than any competitions you’d have ever participated in. 

Who would’ve known that the Olympics had ended as fast as it started. One day you were just arriving at the village and the next thing you knew, you’re in the airport waiting for your flight home. Four medals won, a friendship mended, many unforgettable memories made, all of which happened in the course of a few months leading up to the Olympics and also the weeks that you spent in Paris.

“What’s in your mind?” Sunghoon crept up to the empty seat next to you in the lounge as everyone waited to board the flight. You turned your head to the direction of his voice, your body instantaneously reacting to him before your mind could fully process his presence. 

“I’m just thinking about how quick this whole Olympics passed by,” you leaned your back onto the seat, Sunghoon following your action without removing his gaze on you. 

“Isn’t it crazy how training started a few months ago?” Sunghoon chuckled at the thought of his first day in a new team that totally freaked him out. That entire nonchalant persona he put on was a complete facade, though he would never admit it aloud. “And now you’re going home with four medals,”

“Says the man who has five,” you nudged his shoulder with yours in a lighthearted manner, exchanging a brief smile with him. “It’s weird how six years of us not talking feels like it never happened before, like it was some kind of blip in the matrix. I’m glad we’re able to patch things up and go back to the way it was,”

“Me too. I missed this. I missed us,” it was odd, the way Sunghoon looked at you with emotions that you’d never seen, the vulnerability breaking through his voice, everything felt intimate, too intimate for just a simple conversation in the middle of an airport with everyone around. He took your hand and placed it in his, soft eyes crinkled in the corners with a gentle smile that he always had around you. “Once we’re back home, how about you and I take a short trip to our hometown again? Just the both of us like the last time,”

Staring at him, you were quite stunned, blinking feverishly, and at the same time, the feelings that you tried to shake off so many times were returning at that exact second. “I’d love to. We can grab our favourite lunch set like always,” 

Sunghoon snorted, but he was nodding along despite the amusement. “You’re right. We didn’t get that when we were there that day,”

“I forgot! Plus, we had lunch with our family, I’m sure the overdue reminiscing can wait for a little longer,”

“That is why we’re going to go back for a week or more, do the things we always did and visit the places we went when we were kids,” Sunghoon snapped his fingers, staring at you with sparkling eyes. You could tell he really did miss home and his hometown with you in it. “Do you remember the secret hideout we had? The one in the park?”

“You mean the swing?” you smiled at the mention of your shared memories, remembering bits and pieces of it that has yet to be brought up until then.

“Yes, our swing,” Sunghoon enunciated the word ‘our’, a cheeky grin plastered on his lips that told you he was about to say something abysmal. “I really want to go back to that spot with you. Do you still remember that one time you dragged me there at night sobbing because the coach said you’re off by two seconds?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” you landed a hit on Sunghoon’s shoulder, the latter continued to laugh at the fond memory, ignoring your eye roll. His laughter and his smile that reached all the way up to his eyes made you feel fuzzy inside, the picture of it was eternally imprinted onto your mind. “I was such an overachiever,”

“You still are,” he managed to say in between laughters, gradually settling down and unbeknownst to you, his shoulder was pressed against yours, the gap between you and him were becoming nonexistent. “That is why you’re an Olympic champion,”

You shook your head, waving your hand at him. “Please, don’t flatter me and my ego,”

“It’s true! You really are amazing, you know that?” Sunghoon exclaimed, not a single trace of dishonesty was found in his words, his expressions showing genuinity. If he was able to read minds, he would’ve heard your mind yelling at you right after that. You were short circuiting, unable to generate a response. “In my whole life of knowing you, you’re truly one of the best, both in terms of swimming and simply as a person. You’re smart, kind, talented a–and everything. Frankly, you’re my favourite person,” 

Are you in love with me? Because I’m in love with you too. You wanted to spill that out of your mouth, vomit your inner thoughts and feelings that you held in for so long, wishing you could make it clear to him how you actually feel and stop yourself from continuously confusing everything. What did he mean by all of that? Was it a casual compliment? To you, none of that was casual and normal. What kind of signals was he trying to give? 

“Thank you,” you were breathless, simply because you were barely breathing and you had been holding your breath in ever since the start of his rant. “Y–you’re amazing too, really. Nobody could ever amount to you … you’re my one and only,” was this a suitable time and place to confess your undying love for him, your childhood best friend that you had feelings for? In this airport filled with athletes, being in the city of love, with the clock ticking down to 11:11, you were about to do the unthinkable that you’ve been overthinking for countless nights. “I have something to say, actually. Sunghoon, I actually am in—”

“Guys! Time to gather and board!”

F.M.L.

“What is it?” Sunghoon stared at you expectantly, eyebrows raised in suspense with a slight frown at the sudden interruption. You, on the other hand, were left with your mouth agape, confession cut short and the perfect timing that you deduced ended up being in vain. There was no way that this was reality. “Y/N?”

“I–I’ll tell you another day. We have to board,” you gripped onto the strap of your backpack tight enough to drain the blood from your knuckles. The disappointment was on par with the times you lost your lead. 

“Is it something important?”

“Well, sort of? I guess it is,”

“Then you better remember to tell me when you’re ready, okay?” he wagged his finger at you, smiling softly as if he had noticed the drop in your face and was trying to assure you somehow.

“I will. Let’s get going now.” you patted his back, nodding over at the counter where the athletes were getting their tickets scanned and managing to divert his attention away. 

‘I’m in love with you’. It’s simple and straightforward, there’s nothing hard about it for you to say, but why couldn’t you tell him that? Even when you tried to do so, it ended up being in a pile of mess, leaving you dejected in the end. 

Since when has loving your best friend become so hard? You’ve been doing it for the majority of your life, the only difference was that you were aware that it’s romantic now, so what’s stopping you? Time? Or was it yourself? Maybe it's the fear of vulnerability that feels so heavy. Every shared laugh, every secret whispered in the dark, suddenly carries the weight of possibility. What if these feelings are too big to fit within the bounds of friendship? And yet, isn't love, in all its forms, worth the risk?  

You were scared, scared of losing the person you just got back and also the possibility of loving someone who knew your strengths and weaknesses too well.

“You never told me he tried to hit on you while we were there,”

It was the third day of your one week trip back to your hometown with Sunghoon. After the last two days of being stuck with your own families and having to entertain relatives who were too inquisitive, you and him finally got the chance to hang out together without any prying eyes. Getting out of the city once you were done with your public appearances was the perfect plan, it didn’t take Sunghoon long before sending you a text telling you to pack your bags. If only he knew how relieved you felt seeing him pull up to your house like prince charming coming to save the day.

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned about revisiting your secret hideout. It was right after dinner, the sun had set and the wind was cooler, Sunghoon’s jacket was wrapped around your body despite his constant nagging.   The night sky was littered with constellations of stars above you and Sunghoon, the two of you were sitting on the swings, the park was mostly empty except for a few lingering figures.  

“I didn’t think it’s important,” you muttered, holding onto the swing that you’ve sat on ever since you were only a kid, specifically the right swing while Sunghoon occupied the left. 

“It is! It’s literally Thomas Ceccon. He’s Italian, tall and hot…” Sunghoon trailed off at the sight of you staring at him with an expression of deadpan, clearly unimpressed.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush instead,”

Sunghoon pressed his lips into a thin line, sighing out a rather loud and big breath. “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is … it’s just frustrating, okay? I mean, I’ve heard some things about him before that tells me he isn’t the best person. It’s like he thinks he has a chance or something. You don’t even need that kind of attention. You’re way too good for him,” he shifted his gaze, unable to look at you head-on. 

You searched for his wandering eyes, the shock you experienced from his words and the harshness in his tone that you would seldom hear gave you a slight whiplash. Was he …? Could it be? Jealousy? There was no way, or so you thought whenever you tried to convince yourself that your feelings were one-sided. The small hope burning internally sparked brighter, though the fear of letting yourself down if the truth turned out to be the opposite of what you wanted lingered. “You worry too much. I don’t think about him that way. I … have someone else in mind anyway,”

“You do?” his spine straightened immediately, head almost getting snapped from his neck at how quick he turned towards you, eyebrows raised so high they were almost touching his hairline. 

You nodded, strangely calm and collected, unlike the usual jitters that you’d experienced around him whenever you’re close to revealing the truth. “Someone who gets me, who knows how to make me laugh. Someone who sees me for who I really am,” you paused, your gaze steady. “But I guess he’s just too oblivious to notice,”

Silence was what followed after, the suspenseful tension turning thicker by the minute. You watched his expressions being scrunched up in deep thought then changing into a mix of confusion that eventually morphed into realisation where he might begin to piece the little things together. “What—no—are you … trying to say—”

“Forget it,” you blurted out, standing up from the swing, feeling your heart burning from your own fear and avoidant. You were close, so agonisingly close and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the possibilities of the aftermath. It was always you who chose to break your heart first.   

“No, tell me,” Sunghoon got a hold of your wrist before you could get the chance to walk away, following you suit to stand and facing you straight, never once breaking his gaze that was locked onto yours. You were startled from the grip he had on you, the intensity he had in his eyes felt almost palpable, as if he were searching for the words that had lodged themselves in his throat. “Tell me, am I the oblivious one? Is that what you think? Because I’ve been feeling like I’m walking on eggshells around you, afraid to say what I really want. If you’re hinting at something, just say it. I can’t keep pretending I don’t care or be completely sane when I see some sleazy swimmer trying to approach you, it drives me crazy,” 

The heat of his gaze burned through the air between you and him, a mixture of vulnerability and determination that made it hard to look away. Every emotion he felt flickered across his features—fear, longing, and an urgent need for you to understand. It was as if, in that moment, the world around you and him faded, leaving only the raw connection pulsing in the space between your breaths.

“Please, just tell me,” he urged, his voice low and urgent after seeing your silence. “I need to know if I’m the one you’re talking about or if I’ve been chasing shadows all this time. Because if there’s even a chance you mean me, then I can’t just let this go,” He stepped closer, vulnerability etched on his face. “I’ve been scared to say anything, afraid of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something more. So, just… say it. Please.”

“Do you really want to know?” you took a breath, your heart racing, knowing you were putting whatever it was about your friendship on the line. “Because if I say it, things might change between us. You’re my best friend … and I just can’t lose you like this,”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, evidently frustrated but trying his best to understand your fears. He could see right through you, you and him were alike in many ways, it didn’t take long for him to realise you were scared of losing him again, because to him, that was his fear too. “God, I hate that word,”

“‘Lose’?”

“‘Friend’,” Sunghoon practically spat out, the word alone was laced with distaste, his chest heaving. He took a step closer, his legs were feeling heavy, the weight pressing onto his chest was becoming apparent. You didn’t budge even when his hands travelled to your face, palms rested on both sides of your cheeks. “Can’t you see? I’ve laid my heart out for you,”

“Then let’s stop pretending,” you said, your voice was quiet but steady despite the storm in your heart. “It’s you, Sunghoon. It’s always been you. I’ve tried to ignore it, to push it aside because I didn’t want to risk what we have. But every time I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters. I’m scared too—terrified of losing you, but I can’t hide my feelings anymore. You mean so much more to me than just a friend,” you poured out every single undying confession that you had hid as if your life depended on it, desperation and pining was overwhelming you as time passed. “I’m in love with you, Sunghoon, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved you,” 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper shimmering in his gaze, he froze for a moment, his breath hitching as your words sank in. A rush of emotions flickered across his face—shock, disbelief, and then a dawning realisation that made his heart race. He searched your eyes, looking for confirmation, as if needing to ensure that this wasn’t some beautiful dream. A smile broke through the haze of confusion, a mix of relief and joy. “I’m glad … because I’ve never once stopped loving you either,”

For a heartbeat, the world around you and him seemed to pause, your confession hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting your hearts. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, he closed the distance between the two of you even further, his hand remained gently cradling your face.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. You felt your pulse quicken, anticipation and fear intertwining as you still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. With a softness that took your breath away, he pressed his lips to yours. It was a tentative kiss at first, filled with all the unspoken words you and him both had held back for too long. But as you melted into each other, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more passionate, as if you and him were finally allowing yourselves to feel everything you had been denying.

In that moment, the weight of your fears and the uncertainty of the past faded away, leaving only the electric connection between you and Sunghoon, igniting a fire that had always been there, waiting for this moment to finally ignite.

It was unmistakable, the feeling of his smile against your lips, the same smile that you had kept in your mind ever since you were merely kids. Your best friend, your lover, was undeniably your soulmate, the boy who you’ve loved since you were merely a kid had returned to your life as if it was fated for it to happen. 

The smile was still present on his face even after he pulled away, the look in his eyes was enough to convey every emotion that he had. Foreheads resting against each other, breathless and overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened, Sunghoon’s eyes searched yours, a mix of wonder and disbelief lingering in the air between the both of you. He looked at you with such love, adoration and admiration as if you were his world, unaware how full his heart truly was. 

“You know, that day at the airport, remember the important thing I wanted to tell you?” you were the first to break the silence, hands resting on each of his shoulders, mainly for support knowing your knees were getting weaker as you continued to process what had just happened. 

“I do,”

“I actually wanted to confess to you about how I feel,”

“Really? In the middle of the airport? L/N, you never fail to amuse me,” Sunghoon chuckled, his thumb caressing the expanse of your cheek. Another choke of laughter was pulled out from him when you attempted to land a punch on him.

“Hey! I thought it was a good setting, the vibes were telling me so,”

His smile only widened, there was a sense of softness that he had in his eyes whenever he was around you, this was one of those instances. “I think I wouldn’t have made it onto that flight if you pulled that on me. We would’ve never made it home,”

“You’re right. It really would’ve been quite disastrous, wouldn’t it? I never thought about the entire outcome,”

“I wouldn’t complain spending a longer time in Paris with you,” he removed his forehead from yours, his features becoming much clearer under the glow of the streetlight. His expression softened, a seriousness returning as he took your hands in his. “This feels right. We’ve been more than just friends for a while now, haven’t we? ”

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart swelling with hope as you recalled every little, detailed moment with Sunghoon that made you rethink your life choices. “It really does, ”

A moment of silence hung between you and him, filled with the promise of something new and exciting. “So… what do we do now?” you asked, a playful grin on your lips, eager to explore this new chapter together as you always did with him for most parts of your life.

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your hand. “Well, I guess we figure it out together. No more hiding, right?”

“Right.” you agreed, your smile widening as you stepped into the unknown, hand in hand, ready to embrace whatever came next. 

Under that night sky which you and Sunghoon had shared and walked under all your life, the two of you spent the rest of your time in that park in each others’ presence, the air around had changed undoubtedly, but you and him were still the same, there was nothing that could possibly change when it came to the two of you. 

The stars were shining brighter than usual, the moon was round and illuminated, the endless possibilities were now unfolding before you. With every shared laugh and whispered secret, the world around you felt alive, filled with promise and the magic of new beginnings. As you walked side by side, fingers intertwined, it was clear that this moment was just the beginning of a new path you’d be taking with him.

Under that vast expanse, you realised that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had each other—two hearts that had always been drawn together. In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the glow of the universe, you felt a warmth blooming between you, a certainty that whatever the future held, you would face it together, side by side.

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since that night you and Sunghoon got together officially, ending the lengthy and obvious tension that existed way before you and him became friends again. Since then, many things have changed and happened. Sunghoon had returned to train under his original coach, the team’s success was celebrated by the nation from the point you’ve returned from the Olympics and praise has yet to stop in the tabloid with the additional excitement for the swimming world cup. Not only that, you revealed your relationship with Sunghoon to friends and family, receiving exciting screams and some ‘I knew it’ that you should’ve known was coming. Everything was finally perfectly in place. 

Fast forward to the present day, you couldn’t believe you were actually standing on top of the world. It was the last day of the final stop of the world cup, the aggregate points from all three separate stops were counted to determine the top three male and female swimmers. Safe to say, ever since the Olympics, your drive for success only came out stronger. It was your determination and headstrong personality that drove you past your limits to emerge as the champion of the world cup. 

Walking out to the stage and accepting the medal was a surreal experience, you wished someone was there to pinch you and remind you none of it was a dream. Never once in the course of the past weeks have you expected yourself to come out in first place with the highest points. Here you were, standing on stage with your fellow swimmers, facing the fans and giving your speeches, proving yet again that you were indeed the ‘national treasure’.

At the thought of that name, your attention averted towards the stands, scanning through everyone to find the person that you’ve been wishing to see most. Instead, a big sign that read ‘MY GF’S A WORLD CHAMPION’ caught your eyes, the person that was holding onto it peeked out from behind the sign, revealing his true identity, bringing an amused smile onto your face. Park Sunghoon, your boyfriend who has forfeited the last stop for the sake of his health, had never once missed a single event that you were in. You dared to say that he was your biggest supporter, not only for this instance, but for the majority of your life.

As your eyes locked onto Sunghoon’s, the noise of the crowd faded into a soft hum, leaving only the warmth of his smile and the fluttering in your heart. You didn’t need him close to feel his warmth, you could tell from the pride and affection hidden in his eyes that you were about to get the biggest hug when he got his hands on you. You raised a hand, waving enthusiastically, and he responded with a playful flourish of the sign, drawing laughter from those around him. 

In that moment, everything felt right. The adrenaline from your win mixed with the comfort of his unwavering support, filling you with utmost comfort that you needed all along, making every sore limb and painful nights worth it. Even if you were out there alone, you knew, in the midst of every crowd, there always would be someone present, cheering for you no matter what the circumstances were.

That person would be Sunghoon. The man who you would call your best friend, your confidant, but also your lover. It might’ve taken a while to struggle past your differences and misunderstandings, yet, you managed against the tides washing over you and him, building a bond that surpassed everything. Not only was there trust and admiration, but an unmeasurable kind of love was formed. It would be eternal, an everlasting love that couldn’t be washed away, leaving you and him together for as long as you lived.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[cowpants147]

I neeedddd more Foxes on TikTok content! Them doing their own versions of trending videos and challenges like the "dress up as something that starts with your first initial challeneg"

Allison, looking ethereal dressed like a literal Greek God, glammed to the heavens: I'm Allison, I'm dressed as Aphrodite and it's the onw year anniversary of my boyfriends death so I better be the drunkest tonight.

Renee, wearing a real leather F1 jacket/jumpsuit that Allison for some reason has in her closet with a blow up steering wheel in her hand: I'm Renee, I'm a race car driver and I think Nicky might be the drunkest.

Andrew, dressed exactly the same as normal but has a stethoscope around his neck and a piece of paper saying "Aaron" duct taped to his chest just stares into the camera for 30 seconds until it's obvious Allison will not be leaving without an answer: when Kevin starts puking I'm leaving.

Once everyone has given their answer the video enda with a pic of Nicky and Kevin passed out in a bathtub together.

Or the Trauma Dump Candy salad video which goes off the rails immediately and PSU makes them take down 3 hours after posting

"Hiiiiiii, I'm Nicky and I'm a gay teenage father of two and I brought Nerd Cluster Gummies"

"I'm Aaron and instead of going to rehab my evil doppelganger locked me in a bathroom w a blanket and a weeks worth of canned food and I brought Reeces"

"I'm Allison and my parents didn't even yell at my brother when he got expelled from boarding school for having coke in his room but I got kicked out of the house when I showed up to my deb ball with a black eye and a busted lip after playing (and winning) an exy game. They didn't even ask if I was OK. And I brought cherry flavoured Twizzlers"

"I'm Neil ans whenever I burn something while cooking I have a panic attack cause I start to think about burning my mother dead body in a ditch on the beach and I brought ... Andrew what are these called? Oh, I brought sour patch kids"

"I'm Kevin, I grew up in a cult and I brought raisins" except he's body tackled by a blonde blur before he gets a chance to dump the raisins into the bowl.

Them posting stupid shit to popular sounds:

Aaron, sat on the couch, study notes laid out around him, energy drink cans littering the place: I want to sit back and enjoy my my evening when all of a sudden ...

Camera flashes across the room to Neil just minding his own business: ... I hear this aggravating, grating voice

***

The "My Shalya" sound over clips of Neil absolutely violating people.

***

Zoom up of Kevin in full Queen Day sttess mode on the sidelines of practice with the sound "yes I'm a drama queen, but it's not by choice" playing over it and when it gets the "it's genetic" part the video zooms out to show Wymaxk next to him with the exact hand on hip, stressed look on his face

***

Renee doing the "actually I do cuss a little" sound while she's getting her gear on to spar with Andrew and when it reaches the "probably fuck" portion of the audio the clip switches to her taking Andrew downnnn. And then there's a beat drop just cause.

***

Another edit of Neil but with the "am I the drama? I don't think I'm drama" sound.

***

Upperclassmen scrolling through news articles or flipping through sports news channels rhag are reporting on them while miming along to "is this fucking play about us"

***

Some teammates, probably upperclasmen, definitely Nicky also miming along to "I'm sorry, not everybody fits in the bad bitch genre, it's a genre, not everybody fits on the he roster" while dressed in full exy uniform, with the caption "when you're coach only recruits the most traumatised bitches"

And forcing teammates to do "day in the life" "what i eat in a day as a member of the most fucked up exy team" and "ootd" videos.

Andrew (bribed with alcohol, ice cream and ten dollars) does a What I Eat in a Day as depressed mother of 3 whose forced to play stickball. There's no sound, its just the picture carousel style w block letters next to pics of his food:

Breakfast is a massive mug of hot chocolate with half a can of squirty cream and marshmallows.

Breakfast 2 is a big bowl of whatever sugary flavour cereal that's overflowing w E Numbers and almost illegal food dye you guys have in the US.

Snack 1 is a chocolate bar.

Lunch is a slice of pizza, fries and then there's a hand forcing salad onto his plate. Andrew adds a note to this pic saying "I'm allergic to green, Kevin's trying to kill me"

Snack 2 is a an energy drink and a cigarette

Dinner is a pint of ice cream

Midnight snack is just a pic of Neil which Andrew thinks is an obvious coming out without coming out vibe but everyone is immediately worried about Neil's safety and there endals up being a Reddit thread about Andrew being a cannibal.

Then they post a follow up video of Kevin reacting to this and he just watches on in despair saying "no. no. Andrew you have a nutritionist!"

[pathologicalreid]

mirrorball | s.r.

in which coping with Emily's return leads to tension between JJ and you, her sister, and Spencer, her best friend. it just ends up pushing the two of you closer together.

jareau!reader masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: takes place during the events of 7x2 "proof", spencer's addiction, suicide, idiots in love word count: 2.92k a/n: happy memorial day 😎 have a fanfic, as a little treat

Durant, Oklahoma

Your sister had spoken to you ad nauseam about Spencer lashing out at her, which probably explained the way your heart rate spiked when you saw her approach Spencer in the conference room. Glancing over your shoulder, you flashed a concerned look at Emily, who had desperately been trying to smooth things over with the team since her rise from death.

“Spence,” JJ called, the nickname she’d started using when the two of them were kindred spirits and nothing more. “Look, we gotta talk about this,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief that he was acting out at work.

You weren’t surprised, though. Spencer had been holding in a lot of resentment since Emily returned from Paris and JJ left the Pentagon, and he’d been confiding in you. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Spencer answered, grabbing a file from the table and quickly flipping through it.

He wouldn’t, not at work and not in front of so many people. He’d withhold his real emotions until the sun went down, and once it was you and him in his bedroom—him lying to the team and you lying to your boyfriend—he’d talk about it until the sun rose. “I get it, okay? You’re disappointed with the way we handled Emily.” You tried to step forward, to stomp out the fire before it had a chance to ignite, but an arm reached out. Derek pulled you back, wanting to cause less of a scene.

“Listen, I have a lot going on, alright?” He said, abstaining from meeting her eyes and instead focusing on the folder in his hands. Spencer was right, the team was in the middle of a case, but you knew JJ would have a hard time working if she didn’t resolve her issues with Spencer.

She frowned, adjusting her stance like she was getting ready for a fight. “You know what I think it is?”

Exasperated, Spencer sighed, looking up at your sister expectantly, “What?” His voice was sharp, bitterness tinging his tone.

“You’re mad that Hotch and I controlled our micro-expressions at the hospital, and you weren’t able to detect our deception.” Her guess was as good as a nail in a coffin. She was making an entirely human issue about Spencer’s intelligence because that’s all he’d ever be to her—187.

He swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared your sister down with hurt, brown eyes. “You think it’s about my profiling skills?” He asked, bordering on tearful before he regained his composure, “Jennifer, listen, the only reason that you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row, crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

Red rimmed your sister’s baby blue eyes as devastation sunk in, “I couldn’t.” The words were forced out of her mouth, her voice constricted by emotion.

“You couldn’t? Or you wouldn’t?” Spencer challenged, tilting his head at her in the same way he did when he was cajoling an UnSub.

You walked forward again, this time uninterrupted, so you could hear the two of them better. “No,” JJ insisted, “I couldn’t.”

Spencer didn’t look surprised. “What if I started taking Dilaudid again? Would you have let me?”

JJ faltered, her head tipping back slightly before she poked it forward, “You didn’t.”

“Yeah,” he conceded, “But I thought about it.” The worst part of it was that he wasn’t lying, and when he needed someone to tell him the truth, you’d been the one there to pick up the pieces. The one to beg him to tell you where he’d put the vials so you could properly dispose of them.

One look at her and you knew Spencer had cracked your sister’s armor, the same way yours had that night, with his head in your lap as you begged him to sleep so he wouldn’t continue to yearn for the dreams that had nearly killed him years ago. “Spence,” she said, her voice breathy with shock. “I’m sorry.”

Spencer put his hands up in surrender, stepping away from her, his back facing you. “It’s too late, alright?”

Behind his back, your eyes met JJ’s. She silently pleaded with you to say something in support of her, but instead, you stayed silent while Spencer stalked away and Emily called after him. Your sister’s glare instinctively narrowed, frowning at your refusal to take her side, but if there was anything you learned from your time as her sister, you never wanted to be in between her feuds. 

Emily faltered, thinking about following after Spencer but deciding against it, nearly tripping over her own feet when she resolved herself to stay behind. Her brown eyes found you in the chaos of her indecision, asking you to go after him, and instead, you walked to the conference room where your sister was licking her wounds. “I can’t believe him,” she muttered under her breath, fingertips trembling as she tried to grab a stack of papers from the table. 

You could. You’d seen him like this before, right after JJ had told you Emily was dead. He was hurting, and he tended to lash out when he felt vulnerable. Now this, this convoluted reciprocal grief where he—and the rest of you—were no longer mourning the loss of your friend, but the versions of yourselves that had spent six months coping with Emily’s death, only to find that she had been alive the whole time. 

On the jet, on the way to Oklahoma, you’d observed her in discreet silence, wondering what her life had looked like during that brief intermission. Had she gone to explore in Paris? Watching the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower while you were barely holding yourselves together. 

It wasn’t unlike yourself to push aside your own grief for the sake of someone else’s, you vaguely remember doing it when your oldest sister passed away. What a heavy burden it was, to be four years old and taking responsibility for every smile that came around in that old house. You tried now, to be someone else, setting a gentle hand on JJ’s shoulder and whispering, “It’s been hard for him. It’s one of those things where you just never know what someone else is going through.” 

You’d selected your words carefully, concerning yourself with the secrets you’d kept from your sister, protecting yourself and Spencer while trying to reassure her. You clipped the wire to a ticking time bomb, and you’d chosen the wrong one. “That’s rich, coming from you,” JJ responded, setting her jaw and looking at you expectantly. 

Forgetting yourself for a moment, you flinched back at her words as surely as she’d struck you across the face. Slowly, you looked around to see if any of your other team members had heard what she said, just to find them all still lingering by the evidence boards. 

Desperately, you found yourself staring at Hotch, parting your lips to explain your departure, but he already knew. He nodded at you once, giving you the okay to follow after Spencer, so that’s exactly what you did. Emily’s hand skimmed over your shoulders as you pointedly refrained from looking back at your sister before walking out the front door of the precinct. 

The brightness of the sun stung your eyes as you searched the parking lot, looking for Spencer before your eyes caught him, getting into the driver’s seat of one of the SUVs before starting the car. Swallowing the distaste that your sister had left in your mouth, you jogged over to the black car, opening the door and swinging yourself into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” 

“What?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief, shocked that you had followed him into the parking lot. 

You shrugged, pulling the seat belt over your shoulder and clicking it, “There’s a park just down the road. We could go there for a little while—get some fresh air,” you offered, pointing to the left of the precinct toward the park you’d seen on your way in. 

Silently, Spencer considered your offer and put the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions to the park. 

Neither of you moved to get out of the car once it was stationary. Spencer ducked his head down, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Hey,” you spoke softly now, unbuckling your seatbelt and tilting your head to the side in concern. “Do you have a migraine?” 

He shook his head, mumbling something unintelligible from behind his hands before dragging them down his face, “Did you know?”

You frowned for a moment, wondering what he was asking while you unscrambled the thoughts in your mind. He was asking if you had known about Emily. If you had known the whole time he was breaking down that Emily was still alive. If you were another name he needed to add to his list of betrayers. “No,” you assured him. “I had no idea.”

Thankfully, he believed you, nodding while seemingly melting back into the driver’s seat before looking out at the playground. School was still in session, so the playground was mostly abandoned, save for a few toddlers running about. “I went to her house for ten weeks straight before… that night. She never told me anything other than how sorry she was.” 

Trying to ignore the way he stumbled over his memory of that night, you nodded, commiserating with him. After the night in question, he’d resorted to coming to you for anything he needed, the life preserver in the middle of the sea of grief that he had practically begged your sister to throw. You weren’t interested in a conversation regarding who was right and who was wrong. You knew how Spencer’s brain worked well enough to know that this wasn’t about moral philosophy, it was about how JJ left Spencer to drown when he needed her most. 

Part of you had tried to forget the night you’d gone to his apartment, convincing his neighbor to buzz you in and picking the lock to his front door before getting into a screaming match with him. A fight that had ended with his head in your lap, combing your fingers through his hair while you whispered reassuring things. Telling him childhood stories about you and JJ, a funny story about something Henry had done—anything it took to get his mind off of his grief and away from the drug that he so desperately craved.

He never intended to use his addiction as a weapon, but at some point in his time as an addict, his brain had crossed its wires. It was common for addicts, and maybe it was because you’d never known Spencer before that became part of him, but it seemed like you were able to wrap your mind around it in ways that no one else on the team could. 

“Thank you for coming after me,” Spencer said after the extended silence, reaching out for your hand before thinking better of it and returning his hand to his lap.

Your chest ached at his choice, but you understood why he’d made it. Everything about your friendship had become so convoluted, but the two of you never crossed that bridge. “I had to get out of there too,” you admitted, your eyes burning with the promise of tears, giving you the excuse to cross your arms across your chest. 

Spencer cocked his head to you, “What do you mean? What happened?” 

“Uh,” you faltered over your words, “I tried to defend you to JJ, and she… didn’t like it.” 

Across the center console from you, Spencer set his jaw, “What did she say to you?” He asked with a curiosity so genuine you wouldn’t believe it if it were coming from anyone else. 

Skipping some of the words, you picked at the skin around your nails, “How much do you know about Roslyn?” Even her name burned at your throat, vague memories of someone who shared your genes scratched at you, leaving your voice hoarse. 

“Just how she died,” Spencer admitted, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning so he could face you better. 

You frowned, avoiding his eyes at all costs, “JJ blames me for her death.” 

Though you couldn’t see him, you heard Spencer struggling with the information that you’d just given to him. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat and did the mental math in his head, “You were only four when she died. You couldn’t have caused her suicide.” 

Nodding, you spared a quick look at him, but the sympathy in his eyes was too much to bear in the confines of the car. Scrambling for the door handle, you opened the door to the car and nearly fell out, sitting yourself on the curb so you could feel the wind prick at your skin. “JJ calls me Ducky because it’s a nickname that Ros gave to me,” you explained once he came around the back of the SUV. 

“You don’t need to explain,” He tried to offer. Selfishly, you wanted him to know. You wanted him to understand you better, offering a piece of yourself that no one outside of your immediate family had. You knew Spencer would take that piece and hold it close to his heart, treating it better than anyone else ever had. 

You took a deep, trembling breath, “When I was learning how to walk, I did more of a waddle, and Ros said I looked like a little duck. She used to come to the elementary school when I was in kindergarten and walk home with me, because the kids had bullied me so badly on the bus that I was petrified of ever getting back on.” You laughed in slight disbelief, “I didn’t even ask her, she just offered to walk me home. She always stayed after the high school got out and met me in front of my school.” 

It was innocent, really, when she called out my nickname to get my attention so we could walk home, but some other kids had overheard her. The next day, we were doing a craft in school, and this one kid—Peter Fuller—dumped a bunch of glue and feathers on my seat when I got up to get a colored pencil. I sat in it, and they all stuck to me. I still remember the way it felt to have everyone point and laugh at me.” You wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks. “My mom picked me up and helped me pull the feathers off of me, but the skirt was a goner. When Ros got home, I yelled at her. I told her I hated her and that she was a bad sister, and the next day…” 

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted him, “JJ found her in the bathroom. She’d slit her wrists with our father’s razor blades.” You hugged yourself tightly, “Jennifer told dad what I had said, and he was the first one to blame me. She just followed suit. We’ve gotten past it, mostly, but sometimes things get ugly between us and that’s always the first shot to be fired.” 

“It’s a defense mechanism,” Spencer said, lowering himself down to the curb, sitting next to you. “She hits where it hurts because she feels like her walls are down.” 

You nodded weakly, “I know. That’s why she always goes for Ros. That’s why she went for your profiling skills.” 

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Spencer asked innocently, trying to gain insight on your sister through you. “That she can’t be confronted without returning fire?” 

Thinking about it for a moment, you shrugged, looking at him through teary eyes, “It never changes the fact that she’s my sister. We promised each other a long time ago that we’d never let anything get in between us, so, I don’t think there’s any secret we couldn’t come back from.” You watched him stand up from the curb, holding a hand out for you to take. “She’ll apologize to you in a few days, you just have to wait her out,” you told him as he pulled you to your feet. 

You looked up at him, curiously gazing into his brown eyes, he murmured, “I’m glad it’s not just me under fire.” 

Nodding, you swallowed thickly before responding to him, “I’ll always be here when you’re under siege.” You noticed the way his eyes were studying your face, “Spencer,” you whispered, “I’m—“

“How’s Garrett?” He asked abruptly, inquiring about your boyfriend unprompted, watching your facial expressions for an answer before you even opened your mouth. 

You pursed your lips thoughtfully while he took a step away from you, mindfully putting space between the two of you. “He’s okay, he asked me to move in with him, but I’m—“ 

“You should do it,” he interrupted you again, putting his hands in his pockets before rounding the car. “We should get back to the precinct,” he said, turning the key in the ignition before you could even comprehend what had just happened. 

I’m confused was what you had intended to say to him, and now you were leaving with more questions than you had arrived with. Blinding pawing at the door handle while you prepared yourself for the silent car ride back to work.

"I think I want to be in love with you, but I don't know how." — Angela Carter

[sh4nksslvt]

Hello, can I please request a reader x Law? The reader is Law's lover. She was a pirate, but 6 months prior, she disbanded her team. About a month ago, she was captured by the Navy. For almost 40 days, she's been interrogated and tortured. The reason they discovered she's Law's lover. And they want to know all of her weaknesses and her main base. She hasn't said much of anything. Why does the Surgeon of Death have an alliance with the Straw Hats? She just stares at them. Will he come for you? asks the Marine, angry. He won't let his lover die. The young woman laughs. "You're an idiot." "We're pirates. That one or two die doesn't mean anything." She's almost lost consciousness.

hope u like this!

No Weakness to Break

Captured by the Navy and tortured for information about her lover, Trafalgar Law, a defiant pirate refuses to break, clinging to her resolve until rescue comes.

Law X fem! reader | ONE SHOT tags: slight angst, sfw, oc, hurt/comfort, torture, interrogation, ooc(?) a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward word count: 1.7k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The cell was a tomb of cold stone and rusted iron, the air thick with the stench of damp mold and blood. For thirty-nine days, you had counted the cracks in the wall, the only distraction from the pain that wracked your body. Your wrists, bound by seastone cuffs, ached where the metal bit into your skin, leaving raw, red marks. Your once-vibrant hair was matted, clinging to your sweat-soaked forehead. The Navy had taken everything—your crew, your freedom, your strength—but they hadn’t taken your will. Not yet.

You were a pirate, captain of your own crew until six months ago when you disbanded them, seeking a quieter life, or at least one less drenched in blood. You’d been reckless, though, lingering too long in a port town, and the Navy had sniffed you out. They didn’t care about your disbanded crew or your past raids. They cared about one thing: your connection to Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death. They wanted his weaknesses, his plans, his base. They wanted to know why he’d allied with the Straw Hat Pirates, what schemes he was weaving. And they thought you, his lover, would be the key to cracking him open.

The interrogator, a wiry Marine captain with a cruel glint in his eyes, leaned forward, his chair creaking. His name was Varkis, and he’d been your tormentor for weeks. His questions were always the same, delivered with a mix of smugness and frustration. Today, his patience was thinner than ever.

“Where is his main base?” Varkis demanded, slamming a fist on the table between you. The sound echoed in the small cell, but you didn’t flinch. “You’ve been with him for years. You know where the Heart Pirates dock. Tell me, and this ends.”

Your lips curled into a faint, defiant smile. Blood trickled from a cut on your cheek, stinging as it mixed with sweat. “You’re wasting your breath,” you rasped, your voice hoarse from days of screaming. “I don’t know anything.”

“Liar!” Varkis surged to his feet, his face red with fury. He grabbed a metal rod from the corner of the room, its tip blackened from use. “You’re his woman. You know everything. His plans, his alliances, his weaknesses. Why does the Surgeon of Death work with the Straw Hats? What’s he after?”

You stared at him, your eyes heavy-lidded but unyielding. The pain in your body was a constant hum, but you’d learned to push it to the back of your mind. You wouldn’t break. Not for Varkis. Not for anyone. Law had taught you that—strength wasn’t just in a blade or a devil fruit. It was in the mind, in the heart. And your heart belonged to him.

“Answer me!” Varkis roared, swinging the rod. It connected with your shoulder, sending a jolt of agony through your already battered frame. You bit back a cry, your teeth grinding together. The world swam for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus on Varkis’s face, on the desperation in his eyes. He was running out of time. The Navy’s higher-ups were probably breathing down his neck, demanding results.

“Will he come for you?” Varkis asked, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. He leaned close, his breath hot against your face. “The great Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death. Will he risk everything to save his lover? Or will he let you die?”

You laughed. It was a weak, broken sound, but it filled the cell with defiance. “You’re an idiot,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’re pirates. One or two dying doesn’t mean anything.”

The words were a lie, and they burned your throat as you spoke them. Law would come. You knew he would. But you’d be damned if you gave Varkis the satisfaction of seeing that hope in your eyes. Let him think you were heartless, that Law was heartless. Let him think you were nothing to each other. It was the only way to protect him.

Varkis’s face twisted with rage. He raised the rod again, but before he could strike, the door to the cell burst open. A subordinate stumbled in, his face pale. “Captain Varkis! There’s a ship approaching—fast. It’s flying the Heart Pirates’ flag!”

Varkis froze, the rod still raised. His eyes darted to you, and for the first time, you saw fear in them. You smiled, blood staining your teeth. “Told you,” you murmured. “You’re an idiot.”

Law stood at the bow of the Polar Tang, his grip on Kikoku so tight his knuckles were white. The Navy base loomed on the horizon, a fortress of gray stone perched on a rocky island. His crew was silent behind him, their usual banter replaced by grim determination. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi stood closest, their faces set. They knew what was at stake. They’d all heard the rumors—your capture, your torture. Law had spent the last month tearing through every lead, every whisper, until he’d pinpointed this base.

“She’s alive,” Bepo said softly, his voice trembling. “She has to be.”

“She is,” Law said, his voice low and certain. He didn’t allow himself to consider the alternative. You were too stubborn to die, too fierce to let the Navy break you. But the thought of what they’d done to you in the last forty days made his blood boil. If they’d hurt you—if they’d dared lay a hand on you—he’d tear this base apart brick by brick.

“Captain,” Shachi called from the helm. “We’re in range. They’ve spotted us.”

“Good,” Law said, his eyes narrowing. “Let them know we’re coming.”

The Polar Tang surged forward, its engines roaring. Law’s plan was simple: infiltrate, extract, destroy. He didn’t care about the Navy’s numbers or their defenses. He didn’t care about the consequences. All that mattered was getting you out.

As the ship closed in, alarms blared from the base. Cannons swiveled, and Marines scrambled to their posts. Law raised Kikoku, his lips curling into a cold smile. “Room.”

A blue dome enveloped the Polar Tang and part of the base. In an instant, Law was gone, teleporting to the heart of the fortress. Chaos erupted as he cut through Marines with surgical precision, his blade a blur. Penguin and Shachi led the ground assault, their weapons flashing as they cleared a path. Bepo roared, his massive form barreling through enemy lines.

Law moved like a shadow, his Observation Haki guiding him through the maze of corridors. He could feel you—your presence, faint but stubborn, like a candle refusing to go out. He followed it, his heart pounding. When he reached the cell block, he found Varkis standing over you, the rod raised for another blow.

“Shambles,” Law snarled. In a blink, Varkis was flung against the wall, pinned by an invisible force. The rod clattered to the ground. Law’s eyes locked on you, and for a moment, the world stopped.

You were a mess—bruised, bloodied, barely conscious. But you were alive. Your eyes, half-open, met his, and a faint smile curved your lips. “Took you long enough,” you whispered.

Law’s throat tightened. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he sliced through the seastone cuffs with Kikoku. “I’m here,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I’ve got you.”

You tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough. “Knew you’d come,” you said. “Idiot.”

He smirked, but his eyes were dark with fury. He turned to Varkis, who was struggling against the wall. “You touched her,” Law said, his voice deadly calm. “That was a mistake.”

Varkis opened his mouth to beg, but Law didn’t give him the chance. A flick of Kikoku, and the Marine collapsed, blood pooling beneath him. Law didn’t spare him another glance. He scooped you into his arms, careful not to jostle your injuries. “Hold on,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.”

The escape was a blur of violence and motion. The Heart Pirates fought like demons, carving a path back to the Polar Tang. Law carried you the entire way, his arms steady despite the chaos around him. You drifted in and out of consciousness, your head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was the only thing grounding you, a steady rhythm that promised safety.

When you woke, you were in the Polar Tang’s infirmary, the familiar hum of the ship’s engines filling the air. Your body ached, but the pain was dulled by bandages and medicine. Law sat beside you, his coat draped over a chair, his hat resting on the table. He looked exhausted, his eyes shadowed, but he was there. He was always there.

“Hey,” you said, your voice weak but steady.

He looked up, relief flooding his face. “You’re awake.”

“Barely.” You managed a smile. “You look like hell.”

“Says the one who’s been through hell,” he shot back, but there was no heat in his words. He reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You scared me,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought…”

“You thought I’d break?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Law. You know me better than that.”

He chuckled, but it was strained. “I know. But seeing you like that…” He trailed off, his grip tightening. “I should’ve found you sooner.”

You shook your head. “You found me. That’s what matters.”

He didn’t argue, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. Law was a man who carried every failure like a weight, and you knew he’d blame himself for your capture. You squeezed his hand, drawing his gaze back to you. “I didn’t tell them anything,” you said. “Not a word. They wanted your weaknesses, your base, your plans. I gave them nothing.”

His expression softened, a mix of pride and pain. “I know,” he said. “You’re stronger than they’ll ever understand.”

“Damn right,” you said, smirking. “But next time, maybe don’t take a whole month to find me, yeah?”

He laughed, a real laugh this time, and the sound warmed you more than any blanket. “Deal,” he said. “But there won’t be a next time. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. “Possessive bastard.”

“Only for you,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. The Navy had tried to break you, to tear you apart piece by piece. But they’d failed. You were still here, still fighting, still his.

And as long as you had Law, no cell, no torture, no Marine could ever take that away.

[whatifitis]

♡ you happened - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Did I just... fall in love with the worst person to fall in love with?! *crashes out in a grocery store*

WC: 2565

CW: fluff, friends or something to lovers, use of swear words ☝, joke about death/banter, also not proofread and I've veen awake for almost 24 hrs and my last sleep was 4 hours long :D

Your whole life, all you ever heard was “Oh the two of you are so cute together!”, “Just wait, you two were meant to be”, “Never say never!”

Everyone, your family, his family, neighbors, even staff at restaurants and cafes you frequented thought it. Spoken as if it was written in the stars that you and Lando Norris were fated. You’re not kidding when you say that both your families have placed bets on when you two would finally end up dating… turns out the person who gets closest to the day will win $1,000. 

At first, it didn’t really bother you. It was quite easy to get on with life and ignore their antics. But as you grew older, it stopped being a little joke or little bits of hope within them. When you started dating your first boyfriend in high school, your family audibly sighed when you introduced them to him. The audible sigh was only the start as well. Soon they were making sly comments about how your boyfriend didn’t have green eyes like Lando or curly hair. 

When your family continued their behavior with the second boy you brought home, you stopped introducing them. 

The pressure didn’t just affect you and your love life. After some time, you and Lando stopped talking. After being inseparable since you were practically born, the two of you were pushed apart because of your families and their incessant need to hope for something truly insane. 

You think it had been about 9 years of no contact before you and Lando had reconnected. And the only reason that you two had found each other again was because you needed a new roommate and Lando was lonely…

It was awkward at first. The two of you had grown up and completely changed as people. The interests and hobbies you once had as children were now nonexistent in your lives today. Everything has changed: your favorite colors, foods, and movies. 

It took quite some time, but now you two know each other better now. Though Lando is rarely in the city where you two live, he’s always home when he’s there. The man never leaves the house and it was quite concerning at first. You wondered if he was deficient in vitamin D. The doctors probably thought he went out less than a vampire. 

The one thing that really helped the two of you to bond, besides having mandatory hangouts at least once a month, was when you had been infected with a cold and had somehow shared it with Lando. The two of you were almost bedridden for a week. To make sure neither of you would need to be sent to the emergency room, camp was set up in the living room. Who knew being cramped together in the same room for a week would make the two of you best friends again. 

Not only did you guys relearn each other's favorite colors and movies, but now you know his favorite video games and what his life is like. Lando also got to learn about what you studied in university and how you once duetted ‘Everyday’ from High School Musical 2 with Phoebe Bridgers at a bar in Manchester. After sharing this information, Lando had mentioned the fact that he had never seen any of the High School Musical movies. Sure his sisters had played it in the house as kids but he never paid any mind to it. Naturally, you forced him to watch all 3 movies and now his favorite song is ‘You Are the Music in Me’, HUMUHUMUNUKUNUKUAPUA’A was a close second though. 

And because you had forced him to watch all the HSM movies, he made you play some video games with him. After some debating, he had decided that the two of you would play ‘It Takes Two’. He claimed it was a great way to “create moral” and “bond” with each other. The only thing you had gathered was that you and Lando would make a terrible team no matter what you two were doing. 

Sports? Someone would break the other's nose by accident. Video games? A controller was going to get broken. 

You had also learned that the both of you liked to taunt and poke fun at each other in a way that would make others concerned. 

-=+=-

“Don’t you think it’s romantic? Dying for each other?” Lando said, leaning his head back to look at you and smiling cheekily. 

“I’d rather kill you myself, thanks.” you say, rolling your eyes and making Lando let out a chuckle. The chuckle then leads to a coughing fit. This in turn made you laugh and now then the both of you were having a coughing fit. 

Through coughs and grasps for air, Lando said “Karma, bitch.”

Some gaslighting from you may have followed after you’d hit Lando in the face with a pillow. 

“Lando, I swear. The pillow just levitated on its own and hit your face.”

-=+=-

You were sitting in the kitchen, working on your laptop when Lando came in and wandered over to the fridge. You watched as he opened the fridge, analyzed its contents for approximately 2 seconds before closing it and turning to look at you, “Heyyyy, y/n.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you respond “Heyyy, Lan.”

“So, uhm. Do you wanna go to the market with me? I need something for quick meals and snacks and I could use some company.” 

“You could use some company or are you still scared of the pigeons outside the market door?” you question. 

“Hey! Those beasts are out for blood! I swear on my future dog's life, TWO of them came for my head last time I went.” 

“Sure, big man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” you say as you stand and walk over to pat his shoulder, “You’re driving though. These narrow roads make me wanna swerve into oncoming traffic.”

“Deal.” Lando says as he follows you out the apartment door. 

-=+=-

Lando had already parked the car and the two of you were walking to the doors of the market. You watched Lando try to “sneakily” tiptoe through the market doors, keeping an eye out for any potential threats (pigeons…). 

He was just halfway through the door when a customer in the store had accidentally dropped a box of cereal. Lando tripped and nearly fell before catching himself and trying to brush off the fact that as a grown man, he was terrified of birds. 

“Smooth.” you tease “Smooooth.”

Lando grabs a basket and walks quickly further into the store. Think it's to say he was at least a little embarrassed by what had just happened. By the time you managed to catch up to him, he was already at the opposite end of the store, browsing the tampons.

“Lan?”

“Yeah?” he says as he turns his attention back to you. 

“Is it that time of the month or something?”

“Nah. Just… looking…observing.”

“Right. I’ll just go and grab some crisps.” you say, pointing somewhere behind him. 

“Oh sick! I’ll go with you.” he says, skipping down the aisles. 

As the two of you debated between some of the options of crisps, the song being played in the market had changed and you’re confident that everyone had heard the gasp that escaped Lando’s mouth when he heard the opening notes of ‘You Are the Music in Me’. 

Before you could even register what was happening, Lando had dropped the basket on the floor and grabbed an abandoned whisk off a shelf, using it as a makeshift microphone for his performance. When it was Gabriella’s turn to sing, Lando turned the “microphone” to you, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. 

Reluctantly, you sang your bit, making a smile erupt on Lando’s face. Half-way through the song, Lando was running and jumping up and down the aisle, dancing and lip syncing to the song. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. You were also laughing at the realization that he was so embarrassed of being startled by cereal that he ran through the store to hide, but now he’s openly performing in the middle of the store, not caring who could be watching and judging. 

God, I’m in love… shit. 

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. 

No way you were in love with Lando Norris. You were never going to live this down. Some people in your family will be $1,000 richer. They will comment on this for the rest of your lives. You will have lost. They will have won. This was forever going to be something they would use against you. 

Fuck. 

After a minute, Lando had noticed the sudden change in your emotions. One second, you were laughing and smiling brightly at him and with him. The next, your face had dropped and turned to stone. Did he do something? Were you embarrassed? Of him?

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Lando questioned, concern drawing his features. 

Too embarrassed to be truthful, you tried to think quickly and faked being agitated. 

“Yeah, you happened. Dumbfuck.” you say as you trudge past the man. 

Lando’s heart dropped. What did he do wrong? You’re clearly upset but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know how to fix it. 

He watched your back drift away and out the door of the market, standing with his feet planted in one spot, unable to move and chase after you to make sure you were okay. 

-=+=-

What the fuck did I just do? You thought as you leaned against Lando’s car, rubbing your hands down your face in frustration. 

This is insane. How are you in love with him? You mean,  it’s not that there’s anything wrong with Lando and liking him. But why did you have to be in love with him? Why must you be cursed with eternal mocking and teasing from yours and his family? 

And what were you gonna tell him? You were happy one second then mad the next. You almost yelled at him and ended up pushing past him, hitting his shoulder with yours pretty roughly. You crashed out in the middle of a grocery store…

Before you could come up with a game plan on how to explain this to Lando, or atleast come up with a good lie, Lando was already walking to you and unlocking the car. All he did was spare a quick look at you before getting in the car with the groceries. For the split second your eyes met his, you couldn’t decipher how he was feeling or what he was thinking. It was almost as if there was nothing there. 

When you opened the car door and dropped into your seat, he didn’t say a word. He barely paid you any mind. The whole drive back to the apartment was filled with an uncomfortable silence. His eyes trained on the road, never once moving off the road. If you were in the car any longer, you’re sure you would’ve suffocated under the weight of uncertainty. 

-=+=-

You walked into the apartment with Lando carrying the groceries, tailing you. Not only was the car ride spent in eerie quietness, but so was the walk to the apartment from the car. 

You heard as the front door clicked shut, standing by the kitchen counter and fiddling with your hands and tempted to pick at your nails, a bad habit you’ve had for years. 

Lando put the groceries onto the counter and flicked his eyes to your hands for a second “Stop picking at your nails. S’not good for you.”

Thank god. He spoke. So he’s not upset with you?

You watched as the man leaned his hands against the counter before speaking “So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says calmly. 

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.” your voice pitched higher than normal. 

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I’m not the smartest person but I’m not stupid either, y/n.” 

“I didn’t say you were.” 

“Okay, so tell me what’s wrong. Everything was fine and then all of a sudden your face and mood had dropped. Not only that but you stormed out of the store after telling me that I happened?” he says, trying not to take his frustration out on you. Though you think he should for the way you had behaved. 

“I- I’m fine, Lan.”

“Stop lying. Please. I don’t like lies, especially not from you cause I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a terrible liar.”

Your jaw drops, “Am not!”

“Please. Remember when you ate that last spring roll and you tried to convince me that a squirrel came in through the window and stole it?”

“Okay, well. I see your point.”

“Exactly” he breathes out “So, what’s wrong? Why are you lying to me?”

With a deep breath and a ‘yolo’ you confess “I think I like you.”

“Why do you sound distressed?”

“Because this is distressing.” you rasp. 

“Why?!”

“Lan, you know our families and their incessant need to butt into our lives and force us together. If they found out, I would never live it down. My whole life, I’ve had to fight the allegations. But now?! Now they will forever taunt us with this information. Also I feel the need to point out that some people will be $1,000 richer because of this. Do you really want to give them that? Do you, Lando? Do You?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Well, I mean… would it be that bad?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I think it would be okay? Like, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. And so what if they tease us for this? It just means that they maybe did some voodoo or paid an etsy witch… or we really are meant for eachother.” Lando says, his voice getting softer the more he spoke, as if he was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, what you would say, how you would feel. 

“I- I mean. There’s nothing wrong with it? I guess it’s just unexpected. And things like that make me panic. I think I blew this really out of proportion.” you wince. 

“Ya think?” Lando laughs “You stormed out the market and almost caused a scene.”

“Yeah… I also didn’t get my favorite ice cream and I’ve been craving it for ages.” 

“Oh, well… I actually got it for you. I remember you saying you’d been craving it and wanted to get you some. It was one of the reasons I asked you to come with me to the market. I also ended up getting it cause I thought it would be brownie points for if I had actually done something wrong. I also got brownies… for extra brownie points.” he, totally nonchalantly, winks at you. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad. You’ll be his and he’ll be yours and it will be simple. You truly did feel a lot for him, which was scary. But it’ll be worth it. It will also be worth all the teasing from your families and friends. When you’re with him, you still get butterflies and that in itself makes up for the lost time. And you won’t lie, you’d missed all those years spent apart. Now you’ve got each other and that’s all that matters. From kids to teenagers to adults, everything changed except for one thing, the love you had for the other.

[copper-16]

Reminds Me That There's A Room To Grow

Alexia had lost her childhood love at the last moment. Or did she?

{a/n: Hello everyone! Fair warning: I make a lot of changes about the “world” in the fics I write. Alexia grew up in Madrid in this and started out at Atlético Madrid (don’t worry she’s still the world’s biggest culer, trust), and the timing, clubs, etc are often somewhat fudged because I am lazy. If you come on here and start correcting me I’m just going to block you because this is a STORY, it’s not supposed to be accurate to real life because it isn’t real life. This starts in March of 2021, but there are a series of flashbacks. Reader is a few months younger than Alexia in this.

This story is four parts - just so everyone is prepared. hope y’all enjoy the read! Title is from Drops of Jupiter and Spotify link can be found here!}

Dahlias. 

Resilient. 

Warm-hearted. 

Protective. 

Optimistic. 

Mysterious. 

Grounded. 

Alexia thought of the intricate flowers often. She even went so far as to plant some in a garden box on the balcony of her apartment, just so that in the warmer months she could go out and trace the petals gently under her fingertips. A reminder of everything wonderful she had been fortunate enough to have in her life, held in her grasp for just a little bit longer out in the warm air. 

She admitted it was a long time ago, but even if she tried to move on she simply couldn’t. 

—

Alexia is grateful she opted to wear pants for the event, if for no other reason than the fact that she has somewhere to put her hands. The event was on the smaller side, not quite intimate but still not overwhelming either. It’s March now in Barcelona, with warmer weather and sunshine, even if the event for this evening is held indoors. 

It was for Spotify, bringing together ambassadors of the brand from around Spain to interact and connect with the team. Naturally, Barcelona has sent Alexia and Robert along with a few of the staff members to represent Barcelona. The midfielder has spent the better part of the event making small talk, trying to be polite and sociable. These events are inherently exhausting for her, but she still understands the importance of them, even if there isn’t quite enough football talk for her liking. 

As grateful as the blonde is for the visibility of the team and women’s football, there are still moments when she has to force herself to remain appreciative. She sometimes misses the days of kicking the football around in the dirt, where the heaviness of expectations never plagued her. She misses cozy nights on the couch laughing until her stomach hurts or having someone pull her from her work, insisting that she take a break. 

The footballer struggles to remember the last time she took a break. Her life is full steam ahead, all of the time. It was rewarding and exhausting all at the same time. Even when she has a day off or a moment of peace, it never quite felt like hers. 

Everyone expects something of her. 

Everyone wants a part of her. 

But nobody wants her in her entirety. Nobody has in a long time. 

When the midfielder finally breaks away from the delegate of Barcelona members under the guise of going to the bathroom, she takes the time to just explore. The event space is lovely and spacious, with high ceilings and a gorgeous conference room 

She is aiming to head toward the restroom, but she wanders aimlessly. The brunette ends up in a hallway with a gorgeous light fixture, and she finds herself looking up at it in vague awe. She catches movement in her peripheral vision, and when she glances down, her breath catches in her throat. 

It can’t be? 

Could it be? 

After all of this time? 

Your head is turned up toward the light fixture as well, your face partially obscured by the angle of your neck tilting upward to admire the beauty of it. The dress you’re wearing is a deep emerald green, a crushed velvet material with a high cut neckline. There are draped sleeves that barely hit your mid bicep, and the cut of the gown is long enough that it hides that you’re wearing loafers over more socially appropriate heels. 

You’ve always claimed that a woman who spent her life stuffing her feet into uncomfortable shoes simply wasn’t doing life right. 

The ceilings are tall, and the hallway is nearly empty, but Alexia is pretty sure that there is a lack of oxygen in the air. 

And then you turn your head down from the lights above you, making direct eye contact with her.

Her heart stops for just a moment, unable to comprehend the reality of the moment. 

But the footballer realizes at that exact moment that it’s really you. 

—

When Alexia is six, her immediate family moves from the Mollet del Valles to Salamanca for her father’s job. Besides her Mami, Papi, and Alba, the rest of her family stays behind in Barcelona, a fact that Alexia both hates and struggles to understand. 

Concepts of a job and moving are a little far out of her realm, but she tries her best to calm Alba when she cries quietly out of homesickness. Alexia is strong and refuses to cause trouble, so she takes the move with a silent despair as she is abruptly pulled from everything she has grown to know and placed in a new environment. 

Her Mami explains to the two girls that they will return to Barcelona in the summer for a few weeks to visit family, and that they can still go to Barcelona games here in Madrid. The little brunette girl struggles to contain the disgust her face twitches with at the thought of Real Madrid, and Eli forces herself to hold in a gentle laugh. 

In Alexia’s second week of living in Madrid, she meets you. 

Your family lives in an apartment down the street, with your Mama and Papi alongside your two younger brothers. There’s an area between your house and Alexia’s for children which could technically be classified as a park because of the pathetic patch of grass inside a ring of concrete. It doesn’t matter for Alexia, who brings a basketball outside to play in the space after growing bored one afternoon. 

You were already out there, sitting in the small grass patch and playing with the flowers, gentle in the way only a young child could be. That precarious edge where you could crush the petals at any moment, but for whatever reason don’t. 

The brunette perks up, her steps quickening at the sight of you. She has yet to make a single friend here considering that school has not yet started, and now would be the perfect time. 

“Hola,” she introduces herself apprehensively, soft spoken but not exactly shy. You look up at her, surprise melting into a small smile that seems to spread through the rest of your body. 

“Hola,” you repeat, and Alexia sets the basketball down before sitting beside you. 

“I’m Alexia, I live over there. I just moved here,” she explains as she points toward her own apartment complex. You nod in recognition, turning to the opposite side of the street to point out your own home. 

“Nice to meet you Alexia,” you state resolutely, but your focus is still on the flowers underneath your hands, the  caléndulas. 

“Are you a big fan of la flores?” She questions, and you nod, tucking some hair behind one ear as you look over at Alexia. 

“Flori loves la flores,” the brunette declares, giving you a nickname that will stay with you as she pulls you up to go play basketball with her. 

—

When Alexia is seven she joins the Atlético Madrid academy, playing alongside boys her age. She also learns that you hate football with a burning passion. 

After that day in the street, the two of you have become fast friends. One could not be found without the other, wandering around the streets playing imaginary games or dancing together. You could even be coaxed into a game of basketball or handball sometimes if you were in a good mood, but never football. 

It’s strange to Alexia, because football comes so naturally to her. It is a part of her family, but it is not a part of your family. While you are light on your feet, graceful in dancing, other sports are not your cup of tea. 

You’re smaller than Alexia is, smaller than the average girl your age, and it shows when you’re trying to play games with everyone. You never complain about it, weathering the storm of fouls and near fatal injuries from competitors twice your size without so much as a spot of negativity. 

But Alexia knows that it is not your favorite, and she only asks you to play sometime. 

“Come on Flori, please? I need to practice before tomorrow?” Alexia begs, and though you threw her some sass, you quickly agreed when you saw the look in her eye. 

The desperate look on her face was enough to convince you that she really did need help. 

While you weren’t terribly skilled at football, you weren’t horrible at it either. You agreed to help Alexia because she is your absolute best friend in the whole entire world, and when she looks at you with that face, you know she really means it. 

It is all worth it when she comes home the next day, dropping her bag at home and sprinting over to your apartment. She barges past your Mama at the door to run to your room, jumping on your bed and telling you every detail of the day with excruciating detail. 

You want to listen to every single minute, filled with warmth from the clear excitement on her face. You’re happy that she is happy, and you know that football brings her peace in the same way dancing does for you.  

Which is why when Eli asks Alexia to stop playing football at school as a result of her joining a team outside of school, you are the one who covers for her. You easily vouch that she was pushed on the playground rather than scraping her knees playing football. 

The look her Mami gives you lets you know she doesn’t believe you, but she lets it slide regardless, much to your relief. 

—

When Alexia is eight, she learns of how fiercely protective you are. 

It had only been a small thing, a disagreement on the football pitch behind the school you all attended. She was playing with some of the other girls, the few ones her age who still wanted to play football. The ones who didn’t mind getting their knees muddied and running until their lungs gave out. 

Not that it mattered how much they tried, because Alexia always beat them anyways. 

You had chosen not to participate, electing to teach Alba how to weave daisy chains and making sure that your little brothers weren’t getting into trouble while they played together. You had just moved Alba’s hand gently to show her how to twist the stem of the plant correctly when you heard the ruckus. 

You lift your head, taking in the scene in front of you with a renewed urgency when you notice that Alexia was on the ground. One of the other girls is practically standing on top of her, she was so close to the brunette. The girl, Isabella, is practically pink in the face with her anger, yelling about some foul or dirty move on Alexia’s part. 

You didn’t care though, standing up in a flash and stomping your way across the football pitch to the two girls. 

Alexia is by no means a shy person, but she usually leaned toward being more reserved. She has a deep sense of justice though, and has always pressed for everything to be fair, even when it was not to her advantage. 

When she played games with Alba, the brunette would hold her dominant hand behind her back or close her eyes to even the playing field. And while she never let Alba win without reason, she was never overly cruel in her celebrations either. Especially not as one would expect a bigger sister to be. 

She did not have a chance to get a word in edgewise today, not when you stuff your body between the two girls and press your finger into Isabella’s chest, all but shoving her back. 

You tilted your head up in defiance, a positively ferocious look on your face. 

“Hey! There is no need to yell,” you argue ardently, your face twisted in complete and utter vexation at Isabella’s tone toward your best friend. 

Isabella just stares down at you for a moment, probably more shocked to see you there than bothered by the words you just said to her. You were smaller than her and Alexia, and it is rare to see you get angry or irate like this. 

“Right…sorry Alexia,” Isabella says after a moment, offering a sheepish smile before she turns away, walking off of the field over to a few of her other friends. 

You let out a small sigh as your body language settles into something more relaxed and calm. When you look back at Alexia behind you, you find her looking up at you with a tilted head and a look of confusion on her face. 

“What?” You question carefully, back to the serene best friend that the Catalan had come to know over the last two years. There is concern pooling in your eyes as she stood, brushing the dirt off her knees. 

“Nothing I…” she pauses for a moment before she shakes her head, a tiny smile gracing her lips as she lets out a chuckle. “Thank you Flori.” 

You smile up at her broadly before you turn and make your way back to your younger siblings, sitting down and going right back to teaching Alba how to make a daisy chain as though nothing ever happened. 

—

When Alexia is nine, the two of you dance together. 

You are both signed up for folk dance classes by your respective mothers, who have become powerless in trying to keep the two of you apart. The pair of you might as well be attached to one another, as if you need the other in your orbit to continue on with life. 

It’s not that you both don’t have other friends, because you do. But the connection between the two of you is strong, not understood by anyone else. 

Dancing with Alexia is different. She makes you laugh in ways you cannot quite understand, and despite being only nine years old, there is a gracefulness to her movements that the other girls do not possess. There’s an ease to your steps when you are partnered with her, almost as though you two can anticipate the movements of the other without speaking about it. 

Perhaps football has helped her dance abilities, you wonder silently, but even that might be a stretch. 

You aren’t sure it matters though, not when she looks at you with that wide smile that she only ever seems to give you. 

—

When Alexia is ten, she finds you on her walk home from football practice. Her Mami had just started letting her walk home alone, alongside another boy from her team who lived in the area. It wasn’t a far walk by any means, but it gave the brunette a feeling of huge independence that only a ten year old could possess. 

She has just turned the corner to head down her street when she hears loud, loathsome voices. 

“Flori, really? That’s a stupid nickname, just like you are a stupid friend. She only hangs out with you because it is an easy option, not because she likes you.” 

Alexia doesn’t even have time to consciously think before she sees red and surges forward, finding you cowering just slightly under the intense gaze of two older boys. They are in the year above you and Alexia in school, but they always hated the brunette because she was better at football than they were. 

It seemed that their response to this embarrassment was to take out their anger on you. 

Alexia could tell you were trying to show minimal fear, but you were a good head smaller than the boys who towered over you. Luckily for you Alexia wasn’t about to let them get away with it, and she came around the corner yelling in anger. 

The boys weren’t expecting her, and they certainly weren’t expecting the vehemently angry words that flew out of her mouth. 

You watched the exchange with a strange sense of detachment. 

Were you a stupid friend for Alexia? She was getting better at football now, getting noticed by people and places much bigger than the little neighborhood you guys lived in. She could be popular, have any friend she wanted. No longer was she beholden to you in any way. 

When Alexia grabs your arm gently, you look up to find that the boys are nowhere to be found anymore. It is just your best friend with you, her eyes scanning over every feature on your face with a furrowed brow. 

You let out a tight breath as you realize that you two were alone, sinking down to sit on the curb. Alexia joins you, taking your hand and holding it tightly in her own. 

“Are you alright?” She asks softly, and you don’t answer her for a long moment. 

“Do you think that I am a stupid friend? Do you wish you had more popular friends?” You counter, not really answering her question. You don’t want to burden your friend with your own emotions, sticking to the facts of the case rather than the maelstrom of unease swirling in your stomach. The brunette all but flinches at the question, shaking her head fiercely. You turned to inspect her face gently, to see that there were no signs of lying in the set of her jaw or the twitch of her eyebrow. 

“Why would you think that?” She prods softly, her voice only loud enough for you to just hear it. Alexia can tell that this is about more than just what the boys said. The crinkle in your brow gave away the depth of your worries, especially to the footballer. 

“I am not like you Alexia. I don’t like sports, or getting dirty, or playing with the boys. I am not talented like you, I will never be the star people think you will be. I hear them whispering about you, certain that you will be great,” you insist, reticent to a fate that you have seemingly already aligned for yourself. 

But then Alexia moves, crouching down in front of you instead of remaining beside you. 

“I don’t care about any of that if you aren’t my best friend,” she confesses with a sharp intonation, and she means every word of it wholeheartedly. 

She never thinks of herself as doing anything with football, because there is no path for a woman like her to play professionally like the men do. Even if there was, she has no clue if it is something she would want for her future. 

She loves football dearly. 

But she also loves you, and she tells you as much. 

“I will always need you in my life, no matter what. Now that you are here, you are stuck with me and I refuse to give that up. You are my best friend, and I don’t care what I do in life or who I become, you will always be my best friend Flori.” 

And despite everything that told you that you probably shouldn’t, you believe her with everything in you. 

—

When Alexia is eleven, she moves in with her aunt and uncle in Barcelona for the year to train at La Masia. 

You miss her terribly, even though life moves on. Your schedule every week is filled with friends and dance and time spent outside, but it’s never quite the same with Alexia. When you receive a little flip phone, your heart leaps at the thought of being able to talk to her even when she is far away. 

The two of you call every day, and patiently you listen to her describe every bit of frustration and excitement about football. It’s a huge opportunity to play in La Masia but there remain huge obstacles, and the program for the girls is unorganized and frustrating at best. 

You listen patiently, and Alexia is reminded all over again of how her life wouldn’t be the same without you. 

Gratitude and a strange swirling feeling twist in her belly, but it fills her with a warmth all over regardless. 

—

When Alexia is twelve, she returns to Madrid. The La Masia program for the girls has fallen apart, and she comes back to Atlético Madrid. 

She comes back home to you. 

You are unsure of when her smile started to make your stomach flutter, or when the brush of her hand against yours made your heart jump. And honestly, you don’t care. It is the most natural thing in the world to you. 

When she holds your hand for the first time and glances over at you shyly, you simply knew that your heart belonged to her, and somehow hers belonged to you too. 

—

When Alexia is thirteen, you ask her to be your girlfriend. 

Perhaps it's silly and juvenile and you two are the only ones who believe in the seriousness of it. 

She is caught by surprise at you asking, and suddenly the footballer finds herself throwing out her elaborate plan she had come up with to ask you in the following weeks. 

Alexia says yes to you, unequivocally and with a soundness she has never felt before. 

The first brush of your lips against hers lasts for a few seconds, but it’s exhilarating in an entirely new way.  

It’s perfect, as is the way her arms wrap securely around you.

—

When Alexia is fourteen, the two of you begin to experiment a little more for the first time. 

It’s awkward and bumbling sometimes, but there's a layer of comfort and ease above it all. Her lips on yours and the feel of her body next to you keeping you grounded and comfortable, ready to stop at any moment. 

When she pulls away, you find yourself giggling at the tickling sensation of her eyelashes against your skin. You bury your head into her chest, holding tightly to her as you feel a laugh rumble in her chest. . 

Even as she gets better at football and you grow into your own intelligence, it’s still the two of you together, taking life at your own pace. 

—

When Alexia is fifteen, she begins to struggle in school. 

You are the first person she talks to because she knows that you will meet her without judgement. You have always been a good student, and don’t mind spending the time patiently tutoring her. Topics that she should probably understand but do not are broken down into easily digestible ways, and for the first time in weeks her arithmetic work begins to make sense. 

She is able to continue playing without any problems, and her marks improve rapidly with her focus and your dedication. 

“Thank you Flori,” she sings as she walks out of the first session, and you can’t help but laugh at the tone of her voice. 

The footballer beams at you when you declare that your payment is a kiss for every correct answer. 

She pays her pension and then some without an ounce of complaint. 

—

When Alexia is sixteen, she makes her first team debut for Atlético Madrid. It’s a proud day for the whole family, and you sit squished between her father and Alba as you watch her race onto the pitch. 

There’s a sharp determination on her face, and though she only plays ten minutes you can tell she is going to be good. You can’t say you’re surprised, and when she turns toward her family and you and beams as the game ends, you know that you wouldn’t be anywhere else other than here. 

—

When Alexia is seventeen, she reminds you of what you mean to her. 

Atlético games are never terribly well attended with how little importance is placed on women’s football. But there is still a steady crowd, and it is beginning to grow more and more. 

Alongside that growth come some…interesting characters. 

You’re a regular in the stands, alternating between reading your book, watching the game, and doing homework. It’s rare for you to miss a match, though you have missed a goal or two when your nose is shoved in a book. Luckily, Eli, Jaume, or Alba will nudge you if Alexia is doing something important. If they aren’t there, then one of the other players' family members will, a fact that you’re extremely grateful for. 

Your commitment is unwavering, but your interest in any sort of PDA or anything is limited. Alexia is much the same, a characteristic you’ve always been grateful for. 

But then a group of girls from your school start to show up at games. There’s four of them, always sitting in the front row of the stands, no matter what. They cheer Alexia on as though she is their best friend, despite the fact that she told you herself she doesn’t really know them. When the footballer comes toward the stands after games, they rush to greet her. They fawn over her easily, throwing their arms around her for hugs and pressing chaste kisses to her cheek. 

You always find yourself standing awkwardly in the background, wishing to talk to your girlfriend but unable to stop staring at the scene in front of you. 

At first, it’s more funny than anything. You and Alexia’s family joke about her fan club and delight in the way her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. 

But they never stopped coming to games. And by the time you figure out that they aren’t going to stop, you realize that perhaps you need to take a step back. Those girls are popular, sweet, they love football and seem to understand everything. You are intelligent and well liked, but nowhere near as popular or well versed in the game Alexia lives and breathes by. Trying to follow along to each whistle or hand signal is impossible for you, and your interest in learning comes and goes like an ocean tide. 

“I don’t think I can come on Saturday, I have a calculus project I need to work on,” is what you tell Alexia one weekend. But the brunette didn’t buy it for a single second, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“You always just do it at the games – I’ve seen you in the stands with a glue stick before you were so determined to be there,” she points out, calling your bluff easily.

“Well…this is important Ale. It’s our final year of school, I need the marks to get into university,” you defend weakly, but it’s a lost cause. Your grades are extremely good, and you’ll have your pick of schools. One calculus project will not make or break that opportunity by a long shot. 

“Is this about those girls from school?” Alexia questions softly, her voice careful. You glance over at her and sigh after a moment, knowing that there's really no use in lying. The brunette could read you like the back of her hand. 

You don’t even need to voice your concern for Alexia to know exactly what you’re thinking, and she moves to sit down next to you on the edge of her bed. 

“I promise you with everything in me that I do not care about those girls. I don’t care if you are certain that they are nicer or popular or more pretty than you are. You are perfect to me, and I don’t care about them at all. I only care about you, and I only want you. You are my peace and my life, not them,” the footballer insists, and you look over at her with a quiet resignation. 

“Even if they understand football better than me?” You ask, your voice impossibly small. Alexia smiles sadly, reaching out to gently cradle your face in her hands. 

“When I look at the stands, it’s you I search for. It’s you who makes my heart skip a beat when I realize that you’re there. It’s you who fills my stomach with butterflies and sets the wind into my sail. How could I even notice them when I have you, Flori?” 

At the next game, Alexia politely smiles at the girls but moves straight past them to charge up the stands, still in her kit and boots. She gently lifts your calculus project off your lap so that she can press a resounding kiss to your lips, smiling into it when you gasp into her mouth with surprise. 

—

When Alexia is eighteen, two things happen. 

Everything somehow falls together, and falls apart all at the same time. 

The first is that her father dies. 

It's not unexpected, though the reality is still jarring. It feels like she is free falling, unable to find a moment of stability or rest. 

She finds herself in her old bedroom in her Uncle’s house in Barcelona, avoiding the mass of people downstairs paying their respects. While the sympathy of others is heartfelt and sincere, it’s heavy. 

She already feels heavy. Any more of it and she might break into a million pieces, that she is sure of. So she escapes up stairs for a moment, leaving Alba with a cousin and her Mami with an old friend. 

A knock at the door pulls her from her thoughts, and she looks over to see that you have poked your head into the room. 

“Ale?” You inquire gently, the question unspoken between the two of you. Four years of dating and endless years of friendship have left you with an innate ability to know when the brunette needs space, and that doesn’t feel like where she is right now. 

You’re nothing if not respectful though, aware that as much as you sympathize, you really might not have the answer here. Nothing this big had ever happened in your relationship before, or in either of your lives before. There was no book or manual to prepare on how to deal with a grief so complete and overwhelming as this.  

Alexia loved her father deeply, and no amount of time to anticipate or process her thoughts of his illness actually prepared her from the shock of him being gone. 

You had loved Jaume too, how he passed out love like it was free to give, how he laughed without inhibition, how he welcomed you into the Putellas family with ease. But it wasn’t the same, and you were aware. You knew that you felt only a slice of what your girlfriend did, and even just this amount of grief was unbearable. 

You didn’t know how the footballer was even standing. 

Alexia’s eye’s silently pleaded with you to come in, so you did. You moved across the room before laying down on the bed next to her until the two of you were laying parallel, staring up at the ceiling together. You’re exhausted as well with all the stress and worry, but your first thought is always her. 

It always has been. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you for a long stretch of time. 

What is there to say? 

Your heart aches for her, and for her loss, for her family. Alexia screws her eyes shut, trying to regulate her own breathing. Everything about her feels erratic and out of control.

The footballer turns to her side, tucking herself into your body. She clutches to your arm tightly, forcing herself to copy your steady, dependable breathing. 

As much as she needs her Mami and Alba in this time, she has to work to be strong for them. She was the person they looked to, the decision maker, the leader. They need her, and she would kill herself before she neglected that need. 

But you are her strength, you always have been. You are the one who protects her, whose only thought is her. You have always been constant and steadfast for her through anything, a pillar of strength. She relies on you, and it scares the hell out of her. 

And yet you’re right there, and you seem to take it with a practiced ease that makes Alexia want to sob with gratitude. 

Loss engulfs her and brings her back, your steady hand in hers the entire time. There is rarely a moment when she needs you and you are not there for her, always attuned to her moods and thoughts. 

But then a huge curveball is thrown in Alexia’s way. 

Two weeks after her father passes away, Barcelona calls her. They are creating a women’s team, and though it is not professionalized, it is a team. 

Alexia accepts the request on the spot, not even stopping to consider the consequences. 

It doesn’t matter, the answer would still be yes. Her Mami and Alba are thrilled, quickly deciding that they all should move back to Barcelona together. It was time, and as much as they had built a community here in Madrid, Barcelona would always be home for them. 

Alexia goes to you that night and asks you to move with her. She explains her plan vividly, how you can go to school, she will play football, and you both can get part time jobs. You’ll get a little apartment together, actually start the beginning of your lives together. 

There was never a world in which you were not together, not with how happy you both were together. It was a no-brainer, an easy solution to a problem that had never existed. Life for her didn’t exist without you in it. 

Alexia would move first, and you would follow her in two months once you had received your university acceptance letter. It was a fool proof plan in the Catalans mind. 

At least, it had been a fool proof plan. 

The night before Alexia was scheduled to leave, you arrived at her door. The surprise and excitement on her face quickly gave way to intense concern when she saw the trepidation on your face. 

“Can I come in?” You asked gingerly, stepping inside as the Catalan made way for you to come into her house. 

“Yes, of course you can,” she replied, following you into her kitchen and taking a seat across from you at the table. For several moments there is silence as you seem to work up the courage to finally choke out the words you need to say. 

“I…I can’t come to Barcelona with you Alexia,” you finally stated, your hands folded neatly in your lap

“What?” Alexia isn’t sure she heard you correctly, because certainly you couldn’t be saying what she thought you had said. 

“I have to stay here with my Mama, to help her with the boys and the house and everything. I’ll get a job for a year before going to school, I think,” you explained slowly. 

“I…okay. Are you sure Flori?” You nodded with clear reservation, but the brunette continued forward regardless. 

“Well then…we can call. And take the train to one another when possible, and then maybe when the boys are older you can come to – what is it?” Alexia’s voice grinded to a halt when she finally seemed to notice your despondent expression

“I cannot come Alexia, and I don’t know when I will be able to. I will be very busy, and I am sure you will be as well, so perhaps it’s for the best if–” You were cut off, unsurprisingly. 

“If what?” Alexia challenged, her anger flaring. It’s not really anger, it’s fear, and you see right through her. But still you do not yield, your expression entirely unreadable to the midfielder. 

It only makes her more and more mad that she cannot tell what is going on. 

“Are you just going to give all of this up? I don’t even know what life is like without you, and what – now it gets a little hard and you call it quits? Did you ever even care about me? Did you ever even love me, or has this whole time just been a huge li–”  Alexia yelled from across the table, her hands slamming down to splay on the wood in front of her. 

“Enough!” You yelled, standing suddenly. Alexia seemed surprised at your outburst, but there was nothing other than a quiet resignation across your expression. There was no anger or outrage or fury on your face, but rather a strange form of acceptance mixed with defeat. 

When you spoke again, it was with softness and finality as the footballer looked up at you. 

“I love you Alexia. And I am very excited about this new journey you are going on, even if it is not with me.” 

You walked over to her side of the table before bending down to press a kiss to her temple.  You slipped out the door in a flash. Alexia was so completely thrown off that she didn’t have an answer or a response, she didn’t even have time to stop you. 

She had never sobbed so hard in her entire life than she did at the dining room table that night. Grief had become her shadow, but this was an entirely new kind of grief. It poured over her, consuming her, and she for once found herself completely lost in it. 

When she arrives in Barcelona, it is with red rimmed eyes and a renewed resolve to make something of herself. 

If it meant losing you, it had to be important. 

—

Alexia left Madrid when she was eighteen. 

Barcelona Femeni wasn’t even a professional team, and she was a nobody who had come into the system with promise and drive but nothing to her name. 

Throughout the past nine years, so much had happened to her both personally and professionally. Barcelona was not the same team at all, having been professionalized a few years after she arrived. They were taken somewhat seriously now, with titles and dominance in the domestic league. Though the Champions League eluded them, Alexia knew it was coming. 

She was in the prime of her career, playing better football than she had ever expected herself. The brunette was achieving everything that she had wanted, and she remained hungry and focused toward the future. It was never enough for her, and she always thought she could be doing better. 

There were times though…when she stopped and wondered. 

Was it worth it? 

She wanted so badly to say yes instantly. Football was her passion, her purpose, it had always been her goal to be the best she could be. It had driven every decision she had made in her entire life, and she wanted so desperately to believe in it wholeheartedly. 

But there had always been a flicker of doubt. She held it closely to her heart, never sharing it with anyone, not even Alba or Eli. She did not want to seem weak or doubtful of her decision.

Her apartment was empty, devoid of practically any women, and that had been her choice. Even after all of these years, she couldn’t bring herself to commit to anyone long term. 

The brunette wanted to be angry at you for staying behind, but she couldn’t bring herself to really mean it. She loved you far too much, and the ache of missing you only seemed to strengthen as the years bled on. She had other women, she really tried, but never did she feel the same connection that she had with you. 

Alexia had admittedly tried to look for you, when her initial hurt had bled away in an embarrassingly short amount of time. But you were a ghost. 

The footballer wasn’t surprised, considering that you had never been a big social media person. She found some of your relatives online but their accounts were mostly private and rarely were you photographed. When she returned to Madrid for games, your family was gone from the home you had been raised in, and she wasn’t shameless enough to start banging on neighbors doors to find out more. 

Your phone number had seemingly changed by the time she worked up the nerve to call you, and eventually it just seemed wrong. You never reached out to her, at least not that Alexia was aware of. 

She had simply been forced to accept the fact that she had lost you, for reasons she still did not comprehend or understand. All it took was one singular month to lose both her father and her…to lose you, and that thought gnawed away at a piece of her soul relentlessly. 

But suddenly here you were. 

Nine years later, and here you stood right in front of her. 

“Hello Alexia,” you stated, your face a veil of carefully constructed neutrality, even if your heart beat was erratic beneath your dress. The sound of your voice seemed to bring Alexia back from wherever in her mind she had been. 

“Hi…hi there,” the brunette stuttered, resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. She couldn’t quite get herself to believe that you were standing in front of her. . 

“I know it’s been awhile but it’s…it's good to see you. Congratulations on your team's success these last few years,” you commented gently, a true smile on your lips. 

“Oh, yes, thank you very much. You…you follow the team?” Alexia inquired, her eyebrow furrowing in confusion. You had always been so apathetic to football, she never could have imagined you sitting in front of the television watching games. 

“Ever since you moved to Barcelona,” you confirmed with a nod of the head. Alexia felt her perplexity only ballon in size. 

If you still cared, why did you let her leave in the first place? Why did you give up so easily? 

A silence lapped over the two of you, but it was filled with so many unsaid words, so much tension that had never existed before. 

Alexia and you both looked the same, and yet somehow completely different. You could tell how much the footballer had grown into herself given the ease at which she stood, her hands tucked in her pants pockets loosely. There was an air of elegance and power to her, hazel eyes piercing into you with purpose. 

She looked at you as though she never wanted to look away again, and selfishly, you felt hope in your heart that perhaps…

“Are you with anyone?” You asked suddenly, surprising yourself with the forwardness. It could be interpreted as for the event specifically, but the potential broader implication suffocated you despite the fact that you were the one to ask the question. 

“No, I am not with anyone Flor–” Alexia cut herself off, seemingly realizing her mistake. 

It didn’t feel like much of a mistake to you, and you longed to hear the word come out of her mouth, just once more. If this was the end for the two of you, you would have sold anything you owned to hear her say it just once more. 

You nodded slowly, before replying that you were here alone as well. 

“Perhaps…perhaps we could go on a walk?” Alexia suggested, and you allowed her to set the pace of whatever you guys did together. After all, it had been you that had left in the first place, a fact that you would never forget. 

You nodded in affirmation, explaining that you needed to grab your clutch before you could meet her at the door. 

It was divine timing as well, considering that your boss had just let you off for the evening and you were planning to go home soon anyways. This was a more welcome surprise than whatever you had been planning in your mind. 

—

There was a wave of relief that rushed through Alexia when you appeared in the door frame a few minutes later, almost as though she was positive you were not going to arrive. But there you were, a light jacket thrown over your dress and a small purse in your hand. 

You both walked out of the event space together, silence lapping between the two of you as you continued forward. Alexia was struggling to organize her thoughts in any sort of productive way. She was so caught off guard by everything. 

She thought she would never see you again. 

“How long are you in Barcelona? Just for the weekend?” She questioned, her voice soft. You shook your head, your posture straight and somewhat tense. 

“No actually, I live here now. I moved a few years back,” you replied, voice unwavering. 

Alexia couldn’t help the stab of hurt that ran through her heart at that piece of information. She had always wondered deep down what she had done to cause all of this, why you had let her go. At first the distance was the only thing in Alexia’s mind to explain the break up, but now she knew you had been here for years. She didn’t understand it, even after nine years. Every piece of logical information told her that you had loved her, and yet here you were. 

Was any of this even salvageable? 

Did she want it to be? 

“Oh…I see,” her voice was flat, but in a way that oozed grief rather than true apathy. 

“I come to your games sometimes, once I moved out here,” you admitted, thinking of all the times you had sat up in the stands watching her play. The brunette glanced at you in clear shock, and you shrugged, unable to conjure an appropriate answer to explain yourself further. 

Things were…things had been so complicated. By the time all of it had cleared and the world made sense to you again, she was gone. You knew you had lost your opportunity to be with her, to be a part of her life. 

As much as it haunted you, it was the reality of your life. You never could have changed what happened, but that didn’t mean it cut you just as deep as it did Alexia. 

But perhaps there was hope for the two of you, here and now. Maybe it would be messy and complicated and painful, but it would be real. There was so much left unsaid between the two of you, and whether the two of you could face it headfirst or not would make or break the whole situation. 

“Where did we go wrong? How did all of this fall apart?” 

The question was sudden, a shock but not a surprise. 

You took a deep breath, stopping and looking back at Alexia. The Catalan had stopped walking when she had spoken, as though she was unable to move forward even an inch. Her hands were balled into fists, and everything about her body language communicated her discomfort. 

“Did I do something to make you stop loving me? Where did I mess up?” She questioned, nearly begged. 

Was her career worth losing this, losing you? 

Had she lost you? 

“Alexia, you did nothing wrong. You were perfect, you are perfect,” you promised, summoning every last bit of strength to imbue into your words. You walked back to her, reaching out carefully to place the backs of your fingers to her cheek, just barely touching the warm skin there. She closed her eyes at the feeling as tears burned in your eyes. 

“I lost you,” she whispered, both startled and settled that you still smelled the same, your perfume unchanged after all these years.

“I know, I know. But I’m right here now, I’m right here,” you vowed, still unsure and desperate of what to say. 

“I know that this is fucked up, and complicated, and it’s been years. I might as well be a stranger to you, but I need you to trust me when I say that nothing that happened was your fault. I made the decisions I did because it was what I had to do, but don’t for a minute think it didn’t kill me inside. Don’t you dare think I didn’t spend the last decade of my life missing you,” implored, almost as if trying to force her to understand the depth of your love, even after all this time. You turned your hand to cradle her cheek gently, your thumb stroking across the skin there as you spoke again. Your voice was barely audible, crackling with emotion. 

“Maybe this is crazy for me to say, but I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. And if I never see you after this, I want you to know how much I loved you. How much I still love you. ”

She reached her hand up to grasp at your wrist, holding your hand in place against her cheek. 

“Please don’t leave,” she murmured, and you nodded insistently. 

“I’m right here. I’m right here Ale.” 

The look of relief on her face at hearing you call her that was palpable. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, lost in one another. It could have been a minute or a year, and you didn’t care. You would have stood there forever, content to ignore the rest of the world if Alexia remained this close to you. 

But eventually the telltale signs of rain began to stir, drops of water falling onto your jacket and in your hair. You pulled back, taking Alexia’s hand and squeezing it before you reached for your clutch. Opening the bag, you pulled out a business card and a pen, writing your personal number on the back of the card. 

“The number on this is my office, but the back is my cell. If you still want to…if you decide you want to talk more, call me,” you insisted lightly, placing the card in her hand. 

“I promise I’ll pick up,” you soothed after a moment, your words gentle. 

Alexia stared down at the card, at your loopy handwriting, for far too long. It reminded her of being fifteen, watching you write equations on the wall for tutoring. It was jarring, and it stirred up emotions she didn’t realize she had buried. 

When she looked up again you were gone, and yet not a single ounce of her felt alone as she stood on the sidewalk. 

She had a new possibility. The chance to return to who she was in her youth and understand the past. Or the option to continue forward in her career, focusing solely on football and her dedication to the sport while leaving the past behind. 

She had no idea what she would do, but at least for once she had the choice to decide.

(Part 2)

[bueckersstuff]

Part I - Part II

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

The email arrives at exactly 2:37 PM.

Subject: UConn Alumni Reunion – Invitation

From: UConn Alumni Association

To all our dearest alumni,

We are excited to invite you to the University of Connecticut 5-Year Alumni Reunion! Join us for an evening of celebration, reconnecting with old classmates, and reminiscing about unforgettable moments at UConn.

Date: June 11, 2030

Time: 7:00 PM

Venue: The Ritz - Carlton Rooftop Lounge

We look forward to seeing you there!

Best,

UConn Alumni Association

You stare at the email, your cursor hovering over the RSVP button.

It’s been years since you’ve thought about UConn, at least in any way that mattered. You moved on, built a life separate from your college years, and left behind the people who came with it.

Most of them, anyway.

But now, the memories start creeping back in.

Paige Bueckers.

And Jordan Hawkins, your ex - boyfriend.

You exhale sharply, leaning back in your chair. You weren’t on the basketball team, but you still spent way too much time around it. Dating Jordan meant late-night games, post-season parties, and always feeling like you were on the outside of something bigger than you.

And then there was Paige.

She was never just some athlete to you. You grew up together—neighbors, forced into each other’s lives by your parents’ friendship. You were never quite friends, but you weren’t strangers either. There were always moments where it almost felt like you could be close.

Then, college happened.

Then, that night happened.

Paige, drunk and reckless, kissing you at a party like it meant something. Then waking up the next day and acting like it never did.

She never talked about it. Never gave you a reason. And you? You let her pretend, let the space grow until whatever you had between you just wasn’t anymore.

And now? Now you have to see her. And Jordan.

You click RSVP: Yes before you can think too hard about it.

__

The reunion venue is a high-end rooftop bar, packed with familiar faces. You step inside, scanning the room, nerves twisting in your stomach.

You don’t even get a chance to settle before—

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up."

You recognize the voice immediately.

Jordan Hawkins is leaning against the bar, looking obnoxiously good, surrounded by a few former teammates. He smirks, eyes dragging over you like he’s trying to figure out why you’re here.

"Didn’t think reunions were your thing," he says smoothly.

"Didn’t think they were yours either," you fire back.

He chuckles, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Still single?”

Your stomach tightens. You hate that question. The way it sounds too casual, too knowing. You hesitate for a second too long, and Jordan’s smirk deepens.

And then, as if the universe wants to make this night worse—

You see her.

Paige.

She’s near the balcony, caught mid-laugh with a former teammate. She looks exactly the same, like time hasn’t touched her—confident, magnetic, like she still owns every room she walks into.

Your breath catches, just for a second.

Jordan’s watching you watch her, and his smirk shifts into something sharper. “Huh,” he muses. “That’s interesting.”

You don’t give him a chance to keep going.

Because the next thing you know, you’re moving across the room, straight to Paige. You grab her wrist, and she startles, turning toward you.

"Go with it," you whisper, just before you pull her in and kiss her.

She freezes.

Then—her hands grip your waist, and just as quickly, she kisses you back.

__

Paige's lips are soft. Too soft for something this impulsive, this reckless.

For a second—a dangerous, heart-stopping second—she doesn’t pull away. Her hands tighten on your waist, her body molding into yours like this is something natural. Something practiced.

Like she’s done this before.

Like she remembers.

Then she makes a noise—low, almost like a startled hum—and you feel her start to tense. You know the moment’s slipping, spiraling toward what the hell was that? and why are you kissing me in the middle of a reunion?

So you do what any sane, rational person would do.

You double down.

You pull back just enough to keep up the act but not enough to give her space to question it. Your fingers slide to the nape of her neck, your body leaning into hers as you tilt your head, plastering on an easy smirk.

"You’re supposed to kiss me like you mean it, babe," you murmur just loud enough for Jordan to hear.

Paige’s breath hitches. Her fingers twitch against your waist.

Then, instead of pushing you off like you half-expect, she looks at you. Really looks at you. Like she’s trying to see through the lie, trying to figure out why you’re doing this.

You don’t give her the chance.

You turn, still close enough that Paige’s body heat lingers against yours, and meet Jordan’s gaze head-on.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" you ask, feigning innocence.

Jordan’s expression is unreadable for a moment. Then he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"Well, damn," he says, swirling the ice in his glass. "Guess that answers my question."

Paige shifts beside you, exhaling like she’s just processed what’s happening. You can feel the tension in her body, the way she’s suddenly hyperaware of how close you are.

Then, just when you think she might blow your cover—

She plays along.

Paige slides an arm around your waist, casual, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "You always did like to talk too much, Hawkins."

It’s so Paige. That cocky, confident, just-this-side-of-teasing tone that makes people hang on her every word. And it works.

Jordan raises his hands in surrender, a smirk playing at his lips. "Didn’t realize you two were a thing now. My bad."

You feel Paige glance at you, waiting for you to correct him. To end whatever this is before it spirals.

But you’re not ready for that yet.

So instead, you tighten your grip on her, just enough to make it convincing. "Guess there’s a lot you don’t know."

Jordan watches you for a beat longer. Then he lets out another amused chuckle, like he’s still processing the bullshit you just fed him. "Noted. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it."

And with that, he walks off, disappearing into the crowd.

The second he’s gone, Paige pulls back, her fingers untangling from your waist like she’s been burned.

"What the hell was that?" she hisses, her voice low but sharp.

You rub the back of your neck, shifting awkwardly. "I panicked."

Paige blinks. "So your solution was to kiss me?"

You exhale, crossing your arms. "Look, my ex was being an ass, and I just… I needed to shut him up."

Paige stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. "And that required me pretending to be your girlfriend?"

You shrug. "Well, it worked, didn’t it?"

Paige drags a hand down her face, muttering something under her breath. Then she levels you with a look, her blue eyes sharp and assessing. "Tell me this isn’t just a one-time thing."

You hesitate.

Paige catches it immediately. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

You glance around, lowering your voice. "Jordan’s gonna be watching me all night, and I—" You exhale. "I don’t want him thinking I lost. That I’m still—"

Still hung up on the past. Still figuring out why Paige’s lips felt like a memory you’ve been trying to bury.

Paige crosses her arms, watching you carefully. "So what? You want me to keep this up all night?"

You nod. "Just for tonight. Just until the reunion’s over."

She should say no. You know she should.

But then she looks at you—really looks at you—and something flickers in her expression. Something you can’t quite name.

Then she sighs, tilting her head back like she already regrets this.

"You owe me," she mutters. But you hear the yes hidden in the words.

__

Paige agrees, but she doesn’t look happy about it.

You don’t blame her.

You’re not sure what’s worse—the fact that you just roped her into this mess, or the fact that some sick part of you likes that she said yes.

"You owe me," she mutters again, stepping back just enough to put distance between you.

"I know," you say, even though you have no idea how to make it up to her.

Paige sighs, runs a hand through her hair, then levels you with a look. "Rules."

You blink. "Rules?"

"If we’re doing this, we need ground rules."

Of course, Paige would make this feel like a damn contract negotiation.

You cross your arms, tilting your head. "Alright, lay ‘em on me."

Paige holds up a finger.

"One: no getting too handsy. We need to make it believable, but I don’t need you feeling me up just because you can."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "That’s rich coming from the one who grabbed my waist first."

Paige’s eyes narrow. "That was for the act."

You smirk. "Uh-huh. Sure."

She exhales sharply, moving on. "Two: no weird couple pet names."

"What, no ‘babe’? No ‘sweetheart’?" you tease, watching the way her jaw tightens.

"I will end this right now," she warns.

You hold up your hands in surrender, biting back a grin. "Fine, fine. No pet names. What else?"

Paige hesitates. You watch her throat bob as she swallows, something flickering in her expression before she sets her jaw.

"Three: this is just for tonight. After this, we go back to normal."

You don’t know why that one stings.

Maybe because nothing has been normal with Paige for years.

Maybe because you don’t even know what normal with her looks like anymore.

But you shove that thought down and nod. "Deal."

Paige nods once, like she’s trying to convince herself this is fine. Like she didn’t just agree to one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had.

And then, as if the universe wants to remind you just how much worse this can get—

"Holy shit," a voice cuts through the crowd.

You barely have time to react before someone barrels into Paige, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

"No way," Aaliyah Edwards grins, looking between you two. "Since when are you guys a thing?"

Your stomach drops.

Aaliyah is one of Paige’s closest friends, her old UConn teammate, and someone who absolutely does not let things go.

Worse?

Jordan Hawkins is close enough to hear every word.

Your stomach tightens as you see him pause mid-conversation, glancing over with a raised brow.

Paige feels it too.

Because before you can even process what’s happening, she shifts closer—so close you can feel the warmth of her against your side.

And then, just as smoothly, she slides her hand into yours.

"A while now," Paige says effortlessly, giving your fingers a quick squeeze. "Guess we just kept it quiet."

Your brain short-circuits.

Because she sounds so convincing. Because her hand in yours feels too damn natural. Because Jordan is still watching, and you can feel the weight of his stare like a challenge.

So you do the only thing you can do.

You squeeze Paige’s hand back, force a smirk, and say, "Yeah, we just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it."

Aaliyah’s eyes go wide. "No way. I knew something was up back in college, but damn. So you finally—"

She gestures vaguely, like finally means something specific.

Paige hums, tilting her head at you. "Oops. Too late for that now, huh?"

Her eyes gleam—like she’s enjoying this. Like she’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch.

Oh, you hate her for being good at this.

But maybe you hate yourself more for playing right into it.

__

Aaliyah is still staring at you both like she just caught a rare species in the wild.

"I mean, damn," she whistles. "You two really had us fooled. Thought y’all just tolerated each other."

Paige laughs—an easy, practiced sound—but her grip on your hand tightens. "Guess we just played it cool."

Cool. Right. Because this is so normal.

You risk a glance at Jordan. He’s still watching, expression unreadable. He doesn’t look jealous, exactly, but there’s something calculating in the way he lifts his glass, studying you over the rim.

A test.

Paige must see it too because she makes the next move before you can.

"Babe," she says smoothly, and your body stiffens at the word. "Wanna get some air?"

She’s giving you an out. An escape before Aaliyah asks too many questions, before Jordan picks apart whatever mess you’ve just created.

And you should take it. You should.

But instead—because you’re an idiot—you lean into the lie.

"No rush," you say, smiling up at her. "I kinda like showing you off."

Paige’s breath hitches. It’s barely noticeable, just the smallest change in her expression, but you see it.

Aaliyah lets out a bark of laughter. "Damn, so that’s how it is? You two are one of those couples?"

"What can I say?" you tease, squeezing Paige’s hand just to be an ass. "She’s cute when she blushes."

Paige glares at you. Glares. But she can’t back out now—not with Aaliyah eating this up, not with Jordan still listening.

So instead of snapping at you like you know she wants to, she tilts her head, eyes flashing.

"Oh, I’m cute?" she muses. "That’s funny, coming from the one who panicked and kissed me first."

Your smirk falters.

Aaliyah’s jaw drops. "Wait—what?"

Oh. Oh.

You forgot. You forgot that Paige fights fire with fire.

You force a casual shrug, even as your pulse spikes. "I had to shut Jordan up somehow."

"Uh-huh," Paige hums, gaze knowing.

Aaliyah looks between you two like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t be seeing.

"You know," she says slowly, "this is really funny considering—"

Paige kicks her.

Aaliyah yells.

"What the fuck, P?" she groans, rubbing her shin.

"Nothing," Paige says too quickly, giving you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. "It’s nothing."

Nothing.

Right.

So why is she still gripping your hand like a lifeline?

Why does her pulse jump every time your thumb brushes hers?

Why does she look at you like she’s still remembering a different night—one where she was drunk, reckless, and kissing you like she meant it?

You don’t get to ask.

Because Jordan finally moves.

He sets his glass down, claps a hand on Aaliyah’s shoulder in passing, then turns to you and Paige with that easy, unreadable smirk.

"Congrats, you two," he says, voice smooth as ever. "Wish you nothing but the best."

He’s lying. You know he is.

But you still smile.

"Appreciate it, Hawkins," Paige says before you can.

She doesn’t look at him. She looks at you.

Like she’s daring you to say something.

Like she’s waiting to see if you’ll finally break.

__

You don’t break.

Not in front of Jordan. Not in front of Aaliyah. Not while every damn person in this room seems to be looking just a little too long, listening just a little too hard.

But the second Jordan walks away, the second Aaliyah turns to flag down another drink, you yank your hand from Paige’s grip like it burns.

"What the hell was that?" you hiss under your breath.

Paige barely reacts. She just tilts her head, feigning innocence. "What? You wanted to sell it. I sold it."

You stare at her.

Because that was not just selling it. That was something else—something sharper, something she threw right at your chest just to watch you stumble.

"You didn’t have to bring up—" You stop yourself. Swallow. Look around like maybe someone else can explain why she’s doing this.

Paige watches you. Her expression gives nothing away.

Then, softer, "Didn’t I?"

It hangs between you for too long.

And you hate that it’s her who looks away first.

"I need a drink," you mutter, already turning.

"Yeah, you do," Paige mumbles, following.

You don’t comment on that.

Because suddenly this whole thing feels less like a favor and more like a trap.

—

The bar is packed, but you shove your way through, Paige on your heels.

"Tequila," you say to the bartender.

"Make it two," Paige adds.

You don’t even argue. Maybe she outgrew her obsession with Dirty Shirleys. You just grip the edge of the counter, exhaling slowly as you try to make sense of this.

"So, what’s the plan?" Paige asks after a moment, arms crossed as she leans beside you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how far are we taking this?" She gestures vaguely. "Are we just holding hands and blushing or am I supposed to dip you on the dance floor?"

You roll your eyes. "Jesus, P."

"No, really," she presses, and now there’s that edge again. "How convincing do you need me to be?"

The question makes your stomach twist.

Because you know she’s just pushing your buttons. You know this is just Paige being difficult.

But for a split second—just a breath—you can still feel the way she kissed you that night. The way her hands tangled in your hair. The way she pulled you in like she meant it, like she—

The bartender slams down your shots.

You take yours immediately, swallowing hard.

Paige watches.

Then she takes hers too, slow and measured, like she’s got all the time in the world.

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, then raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," you mutter.

Because fuck her for being so good at this.

And fuck you for the way your pulse won’t settle.

The night stretches on.

Paige keeps to her word—playing the part well enough that people start murmuring about it.

A hand at your waist. A whisper at your ear. A casual brush of fingers down your arm.

It’s fake. It’s all fake.

But she’s looking at you like she’s waiting for you to crack.

And you hate that you just might.

__

You don’t crack.

Not when Paige’s hand lingers on your back as she leans in to say something.

Not when Aaliyah smirks knowingly every time she catches you two standing too close.

Not even when Jordan keeps throwing glances your way, eyes unreadable, like he’s picking apart the lie thread by thread.

You don’t crack.

But you come so damn close.

"You’re enjoying this too much," you mutter as Paige tugs you onto the dance floor.

She grins, all teeth and recklessness. "You’re the one who asked me to play pretend, babe."

You ignore the pet name.

Ignore the way your skin burns where her fingers ghost over your hip.

Ignore the fact that, for a second, just a second, it feels like you’re back in college. Like there’s no unfinished history, no unanswered questions, no drunken mistakes you still don’t understand.

Just you and her and the kind of heat that ruins things.

But you snap out of it when Paige spins you suddenly, pulling you flush against her.

"You’re pushing it," you grit out, ignoring the way the air shifts between you.

"You sure?" Paige tilts her head, pretending to think. "Because Jordan’s watching."

Your stomach twists.

You don’t have to look to know she’s right.

But it’s not just Jordan anymore.

Aaliyah’s watching too, eyes sharp with something unreadable. A few old teammates glance over, whispering. Even the bartender keeps sneaking glances.

And Paige sees it.

She sees it and smirks like she’s won something.

Like she’s waiting for you to flinch.

So you do the only thing you can.

You don’t flinch.

You move closer.

You let your hand drag down her arm, fingers brushing over her wrist before locking together.

You feel her inhale, just barely.

You smirk right back. "Your move, Bueckers."

Paige doesn’t pull away.

She doesn’t let go.

She just holds your gaze like she’s trying to figure something out—like she’s searching for the part of you that still remembers what it felt like when she kissed you that night.

And for the first time tonight, she doesn’t have a comeback.

—

"Alright, what the fuck is going on?"

Aaliyah’s voice cuts through the tension the second you step off the dance floor.

You turn, forcing your expression into something casual. "What do you mean?"

She snorts. "Don’t play dumb. You two are acting like you’re five seconds from eloping."

"It’s called being a good girlfriend," Paige says easily.

Aaliyah rolls her eyes. "Right. Because this isn’t at all the same energy as that night in college—"

Paige steps on her foot.

"Ow—bitch—"

"What night in college?" you ask, heart slamming against your ribs.

Aaliyah pauses, eyes flicking between you and Paige.

Paige looks murderous.

And suddenly, you’re dying to know.

"Li," Paige says warningly.

"Oh, no," you say, stepping closer. "She’s already started. Might as well finish."

Aaliyah hesitates. Then she smirks.

"You really never told her?" she asks Paige, eyes gleaming.

Paige clenches her jaw.

"Told me what?" you demand.

Silence.

Then Paige exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair.

"Not here," she mutters.

"Not here?" you echo, heat rising in your chest. "What the hell does that mean, Paige?"

Paige doesn’t answer.

She just grabs your wrist and tugs you away from the crowd before Aaliyah can dig herself a deeper grave.

You don’t fight it.

Not because you trust her.

But because you need to know.

—

The hallway is quieter, but not empty.

You don’t care.

Paige finally lets go of your wrist and you spin to face her, crossing your arms. "Talk."

She exhales, tilting her head back against the wall. "It’s nothing."

"Bullshit."

She huffs a laugh. "I forgot how stubborn you are."

"And I forgot how frustrating you are," you snap. "Paige, just tell me what the hell Aaliyah was talking about. What didn’t you tell me?"

She shifts her weight, biting her lip like she’s debating if this is worth admitting.

"That night," she says finally, voice quieter. "At the party."

Your stomach tightens.

"What about it?"

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she looks at you—really looks at you—like she’s picking her words carefully.

And that’s when you realize.

She’s been keeping something from you for years.

Your pulse spikes.

"Paige," you press. "Tell me."

She sighs. Runs a hand through her hair. Looks anywhere but at you.

"I wasn’t that drunk," she admits.

Silence.

The kind that hurts.

The kind that knocks the wind out of you.

"What?" you whisper.

She exhales slowly. "I wasn’t that drunk. That night. When I kissed you."

You blink. Your brain stutters, replays her words over and over like they don’t make sense.

Because they don’t make sense.

Because for years—years—you let yourself believe it was a mistake. That she was just wasted, reckless, caught up in the moment.

But now—

"You’re lying," you say, shaking your head. "You have to be lying."

She looks at you then, and something in her gaze makes your stomach drop.

"I’m not."

Your breath shudders.

Because if she wasn’t that drunk—if she knew what she was doing—then that means—

"You kissed me sober?" Your voice is barely there.

Paige swallows.

"Sober enough."

A bitter laugh escapes you. "Wow."

She winces. "Look—"

"No. You look," you cut in, stepping closer. "Do you know what that did to me, Paige? Do you know how many times I replayed that night, trying to figure out what it meant?"

"I—"

"And then you just acted like it never happened."

She flinches. "I know."

"Do you?" you press, voice sharp. "Because it sure as hell didn’t seem like it when you—"

"I know," she snaps, running a hand down her face. "Why do you think I stayed away?"

That shuts you up.

She stayed away.

She chose to stay away.

Your chest tightens.

"So that’s it?" you ask, voice hollow. "You kissed me, regretted it, and thought avoiding me was the answer?"

She exhales, looking exhausted. "I didn’t regret kissing you."

Your breath catches.

She looks at you then—really looks at you—and you feel like you might drown under the weight of it.

"I regretted what came after," she says.

"What came after?" Your voice is sharp, demanding, but you’re barely keeping it together.

Paige shifts, running a hand through her hair like she hates this—like she hates that she’s saying anything at all.

"Everything," she mutters.

"Be specific, Bueckers."

She exhales sharply, looking away.

"I kissed you, and it—" She stops. Swallows. Then shakes her head. "It meant something. And that scared the shit out of me."

Your heart slams against your ribs.

"You don’t get to say that now," you whisper.

She laughs—bitter and humorless. "Yeah? Well, I am."

You stare at her, trying to make sense of this, trying to force the pieces to fit when they never did before.

"You ignored me," you say, voice unsteady. "You kissed me, realized it meant something, and instead of talking to me, you disappeared."

Paige clenches her jaw, eyes flashing. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"Anything but that!"

"I wasn’t ready!" she snaps, frustration bleeding into every syllable. "I—" She stops herself again, biting her lip, breathing hard like she’s fighting every instinct to keep this locked away.

"You weren’t ready?" you echo, stunned. "And you think I was? You think I didn’t spend months wondering what the fuck I did wrong?"

Paige exhales, pressing her fingers to her temples. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

"Then why did you leave me?"

Silence.

And that’s the real question, isn’t it?

Because she did leave.

She chose to put distance between you.

And you never got to ask why.

Paige hesitates.

Then—so quiet you almost don’t hear it:

"Because I wanted you too much."

Your stomach drops.

Paige looks at you, eyes guarded but raw.

"I wanted you, and I knew I couldn't have you, so I—" She swallows. "I did the only thing I knew how to do. I ran."

You feel like the ground has been yanked from under you.

Because this is the first time she’s admitted it.

That she wanted you.

That she felt something.

And all at once, the years of distance, the unfinished tension, the unspoken words— It all makes sense.

Your throat tightens.

"Paige."

Her name feels like something fragile in your mouth.

She shakes her head, like she already regrets saying anything at all.

"Forget it," she mutters.

"Forget it?" you echo, stunned. "Paige, you can’t just drop that on me and expect me to—"

"I have to," she says, voice strained.

Your chest aches.

Because you see it now.

She’s still scared.

Still running.

"You have to?" you repeat, voice shaking with something too sharp to swallow. "You have to forget it?"

Paige exhales hard, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes like she can physically push the words back in. "This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything."

"Yeah?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Because then you’d actually have to deal with it?"

Her jaw clenches. "Because it doesn’t change anything."

You take a step closer. She doesn’t move away.

"It changes everything," you say, voice lower now, rougher.

She shakes her head. "No, it doesn’t."

"Paige—"

"You have a whole ex-boyfriend in that room," she interrupts, voice tight, like she’s trying to push you away with words alone. "We haven’t talked about this for years. And I—" She stops herself, shaking her head. "I can’t do this right now."

"Right. Of course," you snap. "Because that’s what you do, right? You can’t do this, so you just don’t."

She flinches.

Good.

Because she’s not the only one who gets to feel something tonight.

"You wanted me," you say, making sure the words land. "And instead of doing something about it, instead of talking to me, you just—" You exhale sharply, shaking your head. "You ran."

Paige stares at you, something breaking in her gaze. "You think I don’t know that?"

"Then why?"

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

Her hands clench into fists. Her throat works around words she won’t say.

And then—

"Because if I let myself have you, I don’t think I’d ever be able to let go."

The words hit you like a fist to the ribs.

Because that—that—is the most honest thing she’s ever said to you.

Your breath shudders. "Paige—"

"Don’t," she whispers.

She looks at you like she’s barely holding herself together.

Like if you say one more word, she’ll break.

And maybe that’s what you want.

Maybe you want her to crack the way she’s cracked you open.

Maybe you want her to finally stop running.

Your voice is quieter when you say, "If you didn’t want to let go, then why did you?"

Paige looks at you like she’s standing on the edge of something, like if she steps forward, she’ll lose control of everything she’s tried so hard to hold back.

You should let it go.

You should walk away.

But you can’t.

She exhales sharply, hands braced on her hips, staring at the floor like she can find the answer there instead of in you.

For a second, you think she won’t respond.

And then—

"Because I didn’t think I could have you."

Something shifts.

Your stomach tightens. "What?"

She shakes her head like she hates saying this out loud. "You had a boyfriend."

The words hit you like a slap to the face.

"What does—" you start, but Paige cuts you off.

"I kissed you, and for one second, I thought—" She stops, swallows. "I hoped it meant something to you. But then I remembered who you were dating, and I—" She exhales sharply. "I didn’t know if you even could feel the same way about me."

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"So you ran?" you whisper.

She looks at you, eyes burning.

"I ran because it hurt," she admits. "Because if I stayed—if I let myself want you—it would’ve destroyed me if you never wanted me back."

The air feels too thick, the walls too close.

Because this—this changes everything.

"Paige."

Her name barely leaves your lips before she’s shaking her head.

"Don’t," she whispers, voice cracking. "Because if you say something right now, I might actually believe you."

Your chest aches.

"What if I want you to?"

Her breath catches.

Paige stares at you like she didn’t hear you right.

Like she can’t have heard you right.

Her breath is uneven, her hands flexing at her sides like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

"What?" she says, barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard. You can’t take it back now.

"What if I want you to believe me?"

Her throat works around a response, but nothing comes out. She just shakes her head, taking a step back.

Not running.

Not yet.

But close.

"Don’t do this," she mutters.

"Do what?" you push.

"Say things you don’t mean."

Your jaw tightens. "You really think I don’t mean it?"

She exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. "I don’t know, alright?" She looks up, frustrated, eyes burning into yours. "You never—I never—" She stops herself, dragging a hand through her hair. "I spent years convincing myself that I didn’t have a chance with you. That I was stupid for wanting something that was never even an option."

You let out a bitter laugh. "And whose fault was that?"

Paige blinks, caught off guard.

"You never asked me, Paige," you say, voice steadier now, sharper. "You never asked if I wanted you back. You just assumed I didn't."

Her jaw clenches. "You had a boyfriend."

You take a deep breath.

"And do you even know why we broke up?"

Paige stills.

You let that sit for a second before continuing, voice quieter now. "Jordan doesn’t even know. That’s why he’s still so hung up on me—because even he doesn’t understand."

Her brows furrow slightly, like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle she didn’t know existed.

"I broke up with him a week after that kiss," you admit. "After thinking about it day and night until I wasn’t even sure of myself anymore."

Paige stares at you, breath caught in her throat.

She doesn’t say anything.

Because she can’t.

Because now she knows.

Because now she realizes she spent years running from something that was never chasing her in the first place—because it was standing still, waiting for her.

The air between you is suffocating.

You should say something else, push further, make her admit something, anything.

But suddenly, a door swings open down the hall, and the sound of voices spills into the space between you.

The moment shatters.

Paige takes a step back. Her jaw locks into place, her hands finding the pockets of her blazer like she’s holding herself together with sheer force of will.

And just like that, it’s over.

Not forever.

Not really.

But for tonight.

She clears her throat. "We should go back inside."

You hesitate, wanting to hold on to whatever this just was.

But you don’t.

You nod.

And you follow her back into the noise, into the crowd— Into whatever comes next.

__

The rest of the night is a blur.

You and Paige return to the party, slipping back into the noise and conversation like nothing happened.

Like the air between you isn’t charged with something heavy and unspoken.

But it is.

You feel it every time Paige glances your way, every time your arms brush when you stand too close, every time her jaw clenches like she’s biting down words she won’t let out.

Aaliyah notices.

She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes flick between the two of you with something close to suspicion.

Jordan, on the other hand, doesn’t notice anything. He’s too busy trying to find excuses to talk to you, to hover near you, to remind you of what you once had.

Paige watches from across the room, fingers tight around her drink, expression unreadable.

You wonder if she’s thinking about what you said.

You wonder if she’s thinking about the kiss, about the fact that you broke up with Jordan because of her.

You wonder if she regrets running.

Or if she still wants to.

By the time the night winds down, you’re exhausted—not just from the party, but from everything else.

From the weight of knowing.

From the way Paige hasn’t said a word about it since.

She’s still standing near the bar when you grab your coat.

You hesitate.

She looks at you.

Something flickers in her gaze—something raw, something real.

For a second, you think she’s going to say something.

For a second, you hope she will.

But then Aaliyah calls her name, and just like that, the moment is gone.

You leave without saying goodbye.

[wcters]

LETS RECONNECT

pairing: franco colapinto x fem!reader

summary: pictures of franco and a girlfriend from high school resurface which forces them to reconnect

request: “franco colapinto x reader fc (darianka) where they were highschool lovers but broke up and then someone finds old cute pics of them and they reconnect and start dating again smau please”

warnings/contents: rumours

author’s note: faceclaim is darianka sanchez, darianka on ig, i spent like 2 hours straight on this cause i was excited, hopefully you guys like it !!!!! i’m pretty proud of it 😌

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 81,084 others

f1gossip photos have come out recently that picture franco colapinto and model y/n y/l/n from high school 👀

view all 122 comments

user1 i had no idea they even knew each other

user2 why are so many rumours of franco dating random people coming out 💀

↳ user3 honestly, but this one has proof

user4 do we even know if this is real?

↳ user5 they did go to the same high school. he moved to Italy when he was 14 and she was doing school there

user6 how did no know this? like some had to have known

user7 you have to admit they look good together

user8 this is lowkey iconic

unknown

unknown

hello, is this y/n?

yes. who’s this?

unknown

it’s franco. franco colapinto

oh

how are you, franco?

franco ❤️‍🩹

i’m doing good

sorry that those photos got leaked. i don’t even know where they got them

it’s fine. people were going to find out eventually

i hope it doesn’t affect your career

franco ❤️‍🩹

no it’s fine

i hope it’s not affecting you to much

nope. just more notifications than normal but nothing bad

is there a reason you texted besides that or?

franco ❤️‍🩹

my pr team wants to contact you to put out statements and stuff clarifying the rumours

for sure. i’ll give you my email

franco ❤️‍🩹

it’s nice talking to you y/n

you too franco

congrats on p8 by the way ☺️

franco ❤️‍🩹

you watch me?

never stopped

i told you, i’d always support you

yourusername added to their story! francocolapinto added to their story!

chanelofficial

liked by yourusername, francolapinto, and 291,995 others

chanelofficial angèle, newly appointed house ambassador, JENNIE, margaret qualley, ananya panday, ning chang, lupita nyong'o, franco colapinto, arrive at the grand palais in paris on the occasion of the spring-summer 2025 ready-to-wear show on October 1st, as CHANEL makes its grand return in this historic place, emblematic setting of the house's shows for two decades.

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user1 they look so good ❤️

user2 why was franco invited?

↳ user3 y/n probably invited him

user4 is it a coincidence that franco is invited to a show that y/n is in??

user5 did you see the way franco was looking at y/n

↳ user6 he was startstuck

user7 y/n looked so good 😘😘

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss, and 204,926 others

yourusername spring-summer 2025

view all 127 comments

lilamoss beaty queen!!

↳ yourusername that’s all you babe 😚

user1 you looked so good ❤️

user2 <333

francolapinto ❤️☺️

↳ yourusername ☺️

user3 pretty girl

user4 stunner 🌟

user5 unreal 🔥

franco ❤️‍🩹

franco ❤️‍🩹

you did well at the show

thank you ☺️

how was it for your first show?

franco ❤️‍🩹

it was nice

lots of famous people there

yeah, that’s usually how it goes

hope you weren’t too overwhelmed

i know you’re not a big fan of being around lots of people

or at least you didn’t

franco ❤️‍🩹

it’s gotten better over the years, had to

anyway, thank you for inviting me

it was nice seeing you

you too

i’m going to the cota, we could get dinner after the race?

if you have nothing going on

franco ❤️‍🩹

i’d like that

i’ll let you know a time soon

you got it 🫡

f1gossip

liked by user1, user4, and 93,583 others

f1gossip ex-girlfriend of franco colapinto, y/n y/l/n, seen arriving in austin for the united states grand prix

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user1 i thought they said they were just friends 🤨

user2 this is such a wattpad plot

↳ user3 tumblr trope

user4 they are totally getting back together

user5 she has such good style ❤️

user6 she’s going to see a certain someoneeee

user7 cutie patootie 😚

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, user2, and 213,973 others

yourusername austin, here i come 🇺🇸

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user1 franco i see you lurking 👀

gigihadid cutie 🥰

user2 is this her first grand prix?

↳ user3 no, she went to austin last year as well for chanel

lilamoss the moment

user4 last year was for chanel, this year is for franco

user5 it’d be so cute if they got back together

user6 literal high school sweethearts

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, and 120,973 others

f1gossip franco colapinto seen with ex-girlfriend going out for dinner after the austin grand prix

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user1 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNN

user2 just kiss and tell us you’re together 🙄🙄

user3 they’re definitely together

↳ user4 no cause look how close they are

user5 i saw that they kissed outside the restaurant

↳ user6 really?

↳ user5 yeah. my friend lives in austin and got a pic of it

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss, and 217,073 others

yourusername act casuaaaallll

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gigihadid 😍😍

user1 act casual about what? 🤨

user2 is that a man’s hand?

lilamoss 😉

↳ user3 what does this mean 😭

francolapinto 😊

user4 no chance for us anymore ladies 😔😔

user5 beautiful girl

user6 caption is me everytime i see someone i don’t like

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, user2, and 818,168 others

francolapinto novios de secundaria ❤️‍🩹

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yourusername 😚😚

user1 i knew it

user2 they’re so cute together

user3 wattpad plot type shit

lilamoss 😉😉

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, lilamoss , and 510,013 others

yourusername high school sweethearts

comments have been limited

francolapinto te amo ❤️

user1 cuties

user2 literal destiny

lilamoss too cute ☺️

user3 my girl ❤️

gigihadid meant to be together

[k8martins]

˗ˏˋ ˎˊ˗ but i’m a cheerleader! 𒀭

summary: cheerleader!reader secretly crushes on kate martin, but thinks she hates her until they share a hotel at an away game

warnings: 18+, smut w plot, enemies to lovers if u squint

a/n: i hope i snapped with this one it took forever and i also hope y’all get the reference w the title…

——————————————————————————

the cheer team huddled together to chant one last “go hawks” before practice was over, and the gym was then handed over to the women’s basketball team. they always managed to come in as soon as you were done, not wasting a moment of their practice; especially because they had a highly anticipated away game the next day. the team quickly flooded the court, ready to begin stretches.

you hurriedly picked up your water bottle and began walking off the court, bustling through the basketball girls. just mere steps from being out of their way, you bumped shoulders with one athlete in particular. it happened to be a girl named kate, who seemed to have a bit of a problem with you for no good reason. any jab she took at you, she said it with a confusing smile.

“aren’t you guys done yet,” kate sneered looking back at you, her expression a mix of irritation and laughter.

deciding not to engage, you continued walking forward, although kate’s comment embarrassingly made your stomach flip. she goes out of her way to chirp at you, but looks so good doing it.

“what’s her problem?” your teammate asked as she caught up to you.

shaking your head you told her, “i don’t know, we don’t even know each other that much.”

“well coach gave us our hotel details and we’re sharing a hotel with them tomorrow,” she informed, looking intently with concern.

you shot her a look with your eyebrows furrowed, “really?”

“yeah… if you run into her i swear to god,” your teammate huffed.

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying not to appear flustered at the thought of being in the same hotel as kate for a night.

walking into the locker room, your teammate looked at you like you were crazy, “fine? girl, kate borderline bullies you.”

laughing at her comment, you found yourself defending kate.

“‘bullying’ is a bit dramatic.”

“whatever,” and your teammate let it go.

———————————————————————-

the hotel was nothing special; a hilton in the middle of nowhere with assigned roommates. carrying in heavy bags was never easy, and they felt even heavier knowing that the basketball team was in the same building. as you walked into your room, all you could think about was kate. your teammates were ready to fight her, but all you wanted was to “accidentally” run into her. but for your friends’ sake, you played along with the hateful agenda.

“did we only get one room key?” your roommate asked.

you looked around the room, seeing only the one in your hand, “ummm i think so.”

sighing, she asked you to go back down to the lobby to get another room key. you agreed, making your way to the elevator and into the lobby. approaching the front desk, you noticed the basketball team’s bus had arrived. forcing yourself to look away from the girls exiting the bus and coming inside, you stepped up to the receptionist.

“hey can i get an extra room key for room num-“

you immediately stopped your words at the sound of the other athletes entering the lobby, loudly chatting and rolling their luggage.

“um...room 701 please,” you finished, taking the key from the receptionist and keeping your eyes away from the front doors. the effort to not see or be reminded of kate was in vain, for a familiar voice started from behind you.

“oh look who it is,” kate said to her friend, just loud enough for you to hear.

kate and her friend continued walking towards the elevators giggling about nothing, although she took one last glance at you from behind. she was not slick at all. you bit your tongue and approached the elevators, being too close for comfort to kate. the basketball girls took up both elevators, and you watched as they both filled and left you waiting for the next one alongside kate and one other random man. your stomach dropped at the unfortunate cutoff, knowing kate was going to take advantage of the moment.

out of the corner of your eye you saw kate staring at you. trying to suppress your breathing picking up, you prayed she would just say something, anything. sometimes you tried to deny you liked her, but it was times like these when your feelings for kate were only further confirmed. you felt your face grow hot.

“what are you so nervous for,” kate smirked.

you sighed out of annoyance and to catch your breath. facing her eye to eye, you probably looked like a deer in headlights. you tried to read her face, looking for something other than coldness, and you did find something every time you held the courage to look her in the eye. kate’s eyes glimmered as she waited for a response.

“just focusing on the game tomorrow,” you mumbled, half lying. maybe more than half.

kate shook her head, blowing air out of her nose with a light chuckle. the elevator door opened. you kept your head down and walked in, sensing kate following behind you. of course.

standing on opposite sides of the elevator, it was almost like you felt a magnetic force towards her. your mind raced, fantasizing about all the dirty things you’ve wanted for so long. the tension was thick. kate shamelessly stepped an inch closer to you, knowing exactly what she was doing.

“you know i’m just messing with you, right?”

you irritably side eyed her, no longer afraid to speak as long as she kept trying you.

“oh i’m just supposed to know that?”

kate pressed the “7” button and looked back at you, waiting for you to tell her your floor number. you rolled your eyes and shifted uncomfortably. it almost wasn’t surprising.

“we’re on the same damn floor,” you said, crossing your arms. your heart began beating even faster.

kate scoffed, her jaw dropping and turning into a dumb smile.

“no way,” she said, inching even closer to you, “what room number?” her arm was nearly touching yours and your breath hitched.

“why would i tell you that?”

she hummed as if she was thinking, and boldly shot back, “cause maybe i could get you in my room before the trip’s over.” she looked back at you, still with a knowing smile. you couldn’t hold back as a smile crept up your face, immediately looking the other way.

“yeah right,” you chirped, blushing wildly. your arms fell to your side.

“im just saying. you look so cute in that skirt of yours.”

“shut up,” you murmured.

it was like she was trying to make you pass out. the image of kate removing your black and yellow cheer skirt appeared in your mind, the tension now growing nearly unbearable. however, the elevator finally came to a stop on the seventh floor. with her hands propped on the rail behind her, kate brushed her hand against yours as she left the elevator. you followed behind her, but not too close. before walking opposite ways down the hall, kate couldn’t just let you have the last word.

“im serious, cheerleader.” kate raised her eyebrows, looking you up and down.

“we’ll see what happens.” —————————————————————————————————

the next day, iowa had won the basketball game 93-87. you cheered harder than before, with your eye on kate the entire game. if someone scored, you didn’t even notice unless it was kate. she made sure to lock eyes with you several times, whether you were taking a break on the floor or doing your latest routine. the way she held eye contact told you what you needed to know.

back at the hotel, everyone had to pack their things and move out. there wasn’t even enough time to change out of your uniform, as it was the exact time the hotel ordered guests to leave. you were turning around the corner of the hall when you heard someone call your name. whipping your head around, it was exactly who you had been waiting for.

kate wasted no time grabbing you by the wrist and leading you towards her room, no words needed. you smiled and bit your lip, only hoping that your teammates wouldn’t see you with her and ruin the moment. just as you were getting to kate’s room, you heard your coach yell a reminder.

“all cheerleaders on the cheer team must be in the lobby in less than five minutes,” your coach yelled from down and around the hall.

you stopped in your track in kate’s doorway, your mouth hung slightly open and adrenaline running.

“what are you doing, hurry come in,” kate urged.

“but i’m a cheerleader,” you said out of breath, starting to worry. if anyone cared, it was not kate.

“i know that, now come on,” kate now grabbing you by the hand.

she practically slammed the door shut, swiftly locking it. as soon as the door closed, you were pushed against the wall in a desperate kiss. kate couldn’t keep her hands off you, and immediately ran them up and down your waist. your back arched at the instant touch from kate, inevitably pushing your hips into hers. there was no way kate was going to spend less than five minutes with you. between kate’s kisses and words, she did not hold back.

“you’re so...fuckin’ sexy...” she breathlessly said, biting your bottom lip.

you moaned and grasped her hair that was now debris of a braided ponytail, eager for all of her. you both knew time was limited, and suddenly kate picked you up and put you down on the edge of the bed, only breaking the kiss to get on her knees. she placed her hands on each of your knees and looked up at you with her big blue eyes for approval. you nodded hurriedly, whispering for her to be quick. you began trying to remove your skirt, but kate’s hand flew to your wrist to push it away.

“keep it on baby,” she urged, simply pushing your skirt up. the tips of her fingers quickly found the lining of your panties, bringing them down and off your legs. it was like she disregarded your begs to be fast, because she took her time kissing the inside of your thighs and rubbing her hands on your waist. her kisses were intoxicating and she hadn’t even done anything yet. you threw your head back, desperate for more. kate agonizingly rubbed slow circles over your wetness, making you whimper and buck your hips up. she thoroughly enjoyed teasing you.

“you’ve been wanting me to fuck you for awhile, hmm? you damn near soaked your underwear baby.” kate’s words alone could’ve made you finish, her smooth voice echoing in your head as you screwed your eyes shut.

“kate, please...” you moaned out, “we’re gonna b-be la-“

as much as kate would’ve loved to keep you waiting, she moved on and plunged two fingers into your core. anything you could’ve said was cut off by the sensation of her long fingers fucking in and out of you, hitting your g spot every time. your stomach tensed and you almost screamed, but muffled it to a mere whimper. kate continued using her fingers with an unrelenting pace, keeping her face close to your heat.

“you gotta be quiet, princess,” kate said from between your thighs, although she truly didn’t care if anyone heard.

“you’re s-such an asshole,” you breathed.

“am i?”

kate’s tongue found your clit, circling it with perfect pressure and speed. it grew harder to stay quiet as your legs began to shake at kate’s combination of tongue and fingers. you hated how she treated you back at practice, but all the snarky things she said were quickly forgotten with the knot building up in your stomach. the pleasure grew greater and greater, not being able to help your legs closing around kate’s head.

“keep your legs open babe.”

you moaned feverishly at her words and the unforgiving pace she kept on your aching core. grasping at her hair, you were sure you were going to explode.

“kate i can’t take it,” you whimpered.

“yes you can,” kate said huskily against your pussy.

tears of pleasure began forming at the corners of your eyes, some spilling out. you cried that you were close, and kate gave you permission to let go. waves of pleasure rippled through your body as you released on her face, each exhale coming out as a moan.

“that’s it,” kate mumbled as she talked you through it, riding you out of your orgasm. your head was spinning and your core still throbbing when kate put your panties and shorts back on, wiping your tears away. she stood up in front of you.

“kate they’re gonna know,” you said looking up at her with your fucked out eyes.

she simply kissed you in response, a softer kiss this time. your lips were still puffy and tinging with slight pain from making out.

“here lemme...” kate mumbled as she began lifting you up from the bed. your legs felt weak as you stood next to her. when you tried to walk, you burst out laughing.

“i cant believe we just did that, kate look how i’m walking!”

“you’re fine, now let’s go,” kate giggled.

[wordpress-blaze-112205755]

Ben Kweller's Heartfelt Tribute in 'Cover the Mirrors'

★★★★★

In what is a stunning Album of the Year contender, Ben Kweller’s "Cover the Mirrors" is a devastatingly personal album released on May 30, 2025 — his late son Dorian’s 19th birthday. Written after Dorian’s tragic passing in 2023 due to a car accident, the album is Kweller’s first full-length release in years and his most emotionally resonant to date. It’s both an elegy and a testament to resilience, shaped by collaborations with artists like Waxahatchee, Coconut Records, MJ Lenderman, The Flaming Lips — and even Dorian himself.

Overall Impressions

This is Kweller at his most open and unguarded. The record travels through grief in all its jagged phases: numbness, rage, love, laughter, and guilt. Sonically, it ranges from fuzzy punk to ambient folk to buzzing synth psychedelia. Yet every track feels of one piece. Every lyric sounds lived, not written.

At its heart, "Cover the Mirrors" is about trying to survive the unthinkable — and, somehow, making music beautiful enough to carry it.

Track Highlights & Lyrics

Going Insane

A swirling, unsteady opener that captures the mental fragmentation of grief. It’s full of surreal, jumbled imagery, like a mind ricocheting between memories and emotional static.

Dollar Store (feat. Waxahatchee)

One of the most emotionally nuanced tracks. It opens with quiet detachment:

“Call it a day. Walking away. We hide, so we stay inside.”

These lines evoke the paralysis of grief— how easy it is to disappear into routine and avoidance.

Later, the chorus reveals a deeper longing:

“I’m looking for some motivation, I dunno what I’m looking for... All that you want and more, more‑more‑more‑more‑more.”

The song slowly builds from a gentle strum into a cathartic wave of distortion, with Waxahatchee’s voice layering beautifully against Kweller’s. It’s an emotional breakthrough disguised as a slow burn.

Trapped

Co-written with his son Dorian this haunting song explores emotional captivity—not in a toxic relationship, but in memory and grief.

“You trap me every time. Now I’m gone, yeah I’m free. But I wish you were with me.”

This was a hard one for Kweller to finish, but it had to be done. It nagged at me,” he says. “Just this sadness that it would never see the light of day, that he never got to finish such an incredible song.” Kweller wrote the second verse and helped smooth the chorus.

Park Harvey Fire Drill

An all acoustic, lovely, cinematic, but slightly off-kilter track.

"She's anti-social-media All of them likes just make you greedier There's no need to be needier... "I'm just glad I don't have to talk to I'm just glad I don't have to talk to Anyone. I'm just glad I don't have to talk to I'm just glad I don't have to talk to Anyone."

Depression (feat. Coconut Records)

A vulnerable, melodic breakdown dressed up in bright production.

“I used to think that I was strong and tough, but I can’t even get through the day.”

The contrast between confessional lyrics and catchy instrumentation creates a tension that feels all too real. But it's a gorgeous song.

Optimystic

A sarcastic, punk-fueled anthem of self-medication and defiance. The mention of “Pill-popionaire” is shorthand for chemically managing pain. It’s darkly funny and furiously alive. "Happiness! Wanna die. Death Kiss. Get High. Stay High! Close your heart. Back to start. And your brains go! Pow! I'm not optimystic now, I'm not optimystic now."

Killer Bee (feat. The Flaming Lips)

A buzzing, psychedelic trip into anxiety and overstimulation. Layers of synths swarm (courtesy of The Flaming Lips, presumably) like thoughts that won’t settle. Hypnotic and slightly menacing. "It's hard to tell if it's any good. It's rude to yell but I wish I would. I'd sing every word if I only could. That's what I get for being misunderstood."

Letter to Agony

A stark emotional dump that feels like a page torn from a midnight journal.

“All of the toxic waste spewing from me tonight, I fear there’s no end in sight.... Now I'm no longer scared to die. Just please bury me where you will be. Next to you for eternity."

No polish, no pretense — just raw truth.

Oh Dorian (feat. MJ Lenderman)

The emotional center of the album, which ends it. A tribute to his son that feels more like a lullaby than a goodbye.

“Crystal child, double-Gemini / A million songs in his head…”

“Watch him glow and radiate / When he walks through the door…” "Oh Dorian, where did you go? Oh Dorian, please let me know. Oh Dorian, my best friend. But I can't wait to hang with you again."

It’s tender, painful, and filled with pride.

Final Thoughts

"Cover the Mirrors" isn’t about resolution — it’s about reflection. There’s no sense of closure here, just clarity. The grief doesn’t end, but it finds new forms: poetry, noise, silence.

Songs like Dollar Store and Trapped reveal how complex grief can be — sometimes quiet, sometimes loud, sometimes both at once. Knowing that Dorian helped shape some of these melodies makes the entire album feel like a father-son duet across time.

This is Kweller’s most essential work: brave, broken, but most of all, beautiful.

Chris Garrod, July 3, 2025

Dedicated to my dear friend, Barb MacLean, who just passed away. To contribute and help, please use the following links: https://www.gofundme.com/f/barb-maclean and https://www.bonfire.com/fintech-tribute-t-shirt-her-song-lives-on/

Source: Ben Kweller's Heartfelt Tribute in 'Cover the Mirrors'

[celestiamour]

Hej, czy mógłbyś stworzyć grę fem-reader x thanos (gra squid), w której oboje mają ten sam klimat i są najlepszymi przyjaciółmi z dzieciństwa, ale thanos zakochuje się w niej i w końcu mówi jej o tym w pierwszej grze??? (Jeśli uważasz, że to głupie, pomiń) Miłego dnia/nocy 😁🙏

ft. choi su-bong (thanos) x gn! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ childhood best friend! reader┊0.6k words

contains: thanos is his own warning, mentions of bullying, canon-typical violence, drug use, love confessions, they have the same energy, this sucks I'm so sorry

➤ author's note: i forgot how to write!! please be patient with me!! (i hope i translated this right)

╰₊✧ let’s get one thing straight, you probably teamed up to steal lunch money from other kids and maybe even pushed them into lockers afterward: a troublesome duo who ended up in the principal’s office more than once and had to be seated far away from each other or else the entire classroom would erupt into chaos. your parents told both of you to stay away from the other as they were a terrible influence, but it just had you guys sneaking out in the middle of the night to hang out at a nearby park.

╰₊✧ that’s when he realizes you’re his first love probably, pushing you on the swing set at two in the morning with nothing but a dim street light to light up the night, barely in high school and yet determined to make you his. unfortunately, while he’s trying to figure out how to tell you or figure out how you feel about him so as not to ruin the friendship, you tragically move away for some reason and leave him broken-hearted.

╰₊✧ he wrote his first rap about this experience, and it touched hearts all around the world, probably launched his career, and remains in his top ten most streamed songs. 

╰₊✧ alright, now to the games, the second he laid eyes on you, it was like all the young love buried from years ago hit him like a ton of bricks. he audibly gasped as if he had just run into the queen of england, even making his fans turn their heads, jogging up to you to see if you remembered him. he’s so excited, he almost trips on his way over.

╰₊✧ on your end, you remembered him obviously, he’s made quite a name for himself and you’ve seen clips of his music videos/performances which you look into every now and then out of curiosity. you would be lying if you said he wasn’t even more handsome than the screens do him justice, his brightly-colored purple hair seemed to suit him so well and he’s grown so tall. you’re also pleased to see that little has changed about his attitude, still the same old su-bong you remember him to be.

╰₊✧ you two are probably near each other when the true nature of the game is revealed, and he offers you one of the colorful pills hidden in his cross necklace which you smack him for getting into drugs, but you can’t say you’re surprised. he becomes so carefree afterward that he blatantly pushes three other people over and watches them get shot for the fun of it, but he also does the contradictory action of hiding you behind him to make sure you don’t get shot. 

╰₊✧ the smile that splits his face when he hears you laughing and going along with his antics is worthy of being photographed when it hits him that this experience would be much like the times you both shared as kids. he finally reunited with his childhood best friend, and he’s going to make the most of the time you have together— death games be damned! 

╰₊✧ keeps you close throughout the voting process and confesses his love once he sees you press the blue button. the amount of time you both have left is uncertain, but if you both help each other out and make it out alive, then the leftover money will go to the future he dreamed of having with you. he doesn’t care if it seems unrealistic or too ideal, he’s thanos and nothing was ever impossible for him.

╰₊✧ of course, you say yes and become a force to be reckoned with!