#he’s gonna get a *lot* more injuries before this is finished but I’m done for the night so here you go :)

[whump-queen]

oh look it’s sad anime boy hours again

WIP of my oc Seven

More art

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

[minnieminshi]

Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this. 

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start. 

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor. 

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen. 

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.  

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?” 

Oh? 

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.” 

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off. 

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?” 

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.” 

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.” 

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case. 

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now. 

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to. 

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol. 

Or so you thought. 

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what. 

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you. 

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book. 

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you. 

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult. 

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out. 

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.” 

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes. 

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying. 

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.  

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him. 

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl. 

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.” 

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.” 

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.” 

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.” 

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help. 

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly. 

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?” 

Wow, he’s really not letting this go. 

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person. 

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.” 

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.” 

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.” 

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?” 

“You know what, go crazy dude.” 

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park. 

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you. 

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you. 

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.” 

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.” 

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say. 

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.” 

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.” 

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.” 

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out. 

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible. 

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from. 

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly. 

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call. 

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in. 

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.” 

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car. 

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina. 

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter. 

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door. 

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door. 

Choi Seungcheol. 

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?” 

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has. 

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.” 

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment. 

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment. 

“Real or am I hallucinating?” 

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need. 

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen? 

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?” 

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird. 

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh. 

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.” 

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.” 

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.” 

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him. 

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today. 

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag. 

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier. 

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water. 

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better. 

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again. 

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care? 

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl. 

“Oh.” 

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you. 

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?” 

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.” 

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company? 

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away. 

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother. 

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes. 

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick. 

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you. 

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?” 

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.  

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.) 

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on. 

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen. 

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like. 

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy. 

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.” 

“Yeah… see you later, princess.” 

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text? 

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend. 

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.) 

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification. 

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh. 

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees. 

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray. 

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him. 

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?” 

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?” 

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye. 

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once. 

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy? 

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health. 

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table. 

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble. 

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse. 

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it. 

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss. 

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode. 

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure. 

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?”  You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.” 

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.” 

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.” 

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-” 

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.  

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns. 

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?” 

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.” 

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life. 

“Anything for you, princess.” 

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news. 

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!” 

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything. 

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament. 

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.” 

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident. 

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment. 

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting. 

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time. 

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother. 

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other. 

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot. 

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you. 

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.” 

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time. 

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is. 

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat. 

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food. 

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?” 

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?” 

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl. 

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

[piccionethepigeon]

Helping hand part 1

Part 2

Summary: you give a wounded Ghost a helping hand, then he needs to help himself

Warnings: I don’t know jack shiii about Cod I’m just horny for beefy masked men so he could be out of character and other things inaccurate, sexual content, injury and blood, pining, clueless reader, also probably bad writing and grammar as this is not even my first lenguage , size kink, obsessive! Ghost

Your legs were twitching nervously under the table while working, fingertips raw from biting your nails and stomach flipped upside down; they should have been there hours ago but still no trace, no message of delays in the return, no nothing…. with worry itching under the skin it was impossible to focus on other task, even while checking the stock of medical supplies you dropped several items breaking some in the process. But doing nothing was doing no good either, they are soldiers for fucks sake they can handle a simple rescue mission without incident they had been on plenty missions way more dangerous than this one and everything went according to plan usually. They were some of the best around after all.

But this time felt different your gut was telling your so, and each tick of the clock on the white wall made the itch worse. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock… it was making you feel insane and all you wanted to do was get up take the fucking clock and smash it on the floor, stop it and then maybe burn the pieces… you were definitely going insane, for what a bit of delay? You tought you were more rational than that.

Then the doors flew open with a push so rough that the hinges made a sharp sound that made you fear for the integrity of said doors, the doors became the last of your worries when you saw who was the culprit.

Soap was blodied, winded, and still in full gear supporting with one shoulder a man in a mask that seemed far more bloodied and limping. Ghost.

Without question you ran to support Ghosts other side even if struggling a bit since the man was massive. Soap spoke between rough breaths. “He got shot in the thigh, doesn’t seem to have hit an artery but he lost a lot of blood” you were quick to reply “place him on that chair and then go get checked by another medic, I’ll have this handled” with a tud and a groan your patient was settled in the chair and Soap was rushing out holding a gauze to his temple, thanking you before going to find another medic.

Y/n kneeled in front of him to have access to the wound not caring about being on the floor and began examining, the pants were ripped and started sticking to the skin with the blood making it hard to see the wound “Ghost im going to cut your pants for access, clean the wound, take out the bullet and suture. It’s gonna hurt but I know you can handle it” he gave a nod of acknowledgment and you began to cut the fabric carefully.

Then all the blood and dirt had to be cleaned otherwise there could be an infection, hands gentle and quick with a disinfectant and a gauze stroking the naked and raw skin you sometimes gazed at him to check and smile reassuringly, his eyes were looking in your direction but they looked distant.

No matter how gentle you were,tough he was trying to hide it but he was trembling and that could not have been a good thing. Once everything was clean the bullet had to be extracted, y/n grabbed the tweezers and sank them in the flesh using the spare hand to hold the skin around it “this is the worst part put it’s also quick since the bullet is intact, we’re almost finished” who knew if you were tried to reassure more him or yourself, keeping a steady hand was difficult.

The bullet came out and you put it away, almost done, only sutures were left. “Done, now I’ll see you up then send you to rest, hold on for a little longer please” y/n said before sinking the needle in the skin, Ghost choked a groan, and you stroke the thigh to soothe him while working, once the wound was closed you smiled up at him again while bandaging the leg. “We’re all finished, all you alright?” Y/ns eyes met Ghosts and the gaze looked weird on him, his usually almost cold eyes were scorching. Several moments passed and he didn’t reply so you tapped the his knee lightly “Simon are you alright?” His pupils shrank and then dilated again till his eyes were almost black, then finally replied “Yeah, thank you doc” he choked out.

Then he got up and before you could say anything else he disappeared limping out the door.

Was he in such a rush? Huh.

Ghost slammed the door of his barrack, then threw himself on the mattress hissing when the moment pulled his stiches. His blood was hot. No it was boiling under his skin. Closing his eyes all he could see was You, the girl that filled his thoughts more than he would ever admit kneeling in front of his crotch, ripping his pants off him… eh should not fantasize on y/n for that, it was your job after all but he could not help himself, he reached his hand on his clothed groin to palm himself and let his mind roam.

He was shaking before when y/n had cleaned the dirt off him and he began shaking but not because it hurt, the adrenaline made him numb to the pain, but somehow the soft hands on his skin made every nerve ablaze. Oh fuck then your pretty eyes looked up at him, he could see your breasts down the the collar of your shirt, and you smiled and he felt whatever blood he had left rushing, your beautiful mouth would look even better stuffed full of his cock milking him dry while he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers.

You would surely caress his thigh like you did before, and he would praise you for being such a good girl for him. Lifting his mask he spat on his hand to pretend it was your wet warm mouth.

Even while the needle was closing him up he could only feel your hands on his skin and could not look away from your lips pouting a bit in concentration.

An then while bandaging him up you asked him if he was alright, too caught up in fantasies he didn’t answer… and then you called him Simon. He groaned and shuddering he began working his thick hard length. Before that he was getting hard but after that he was stiffer than a rock and pretty sure all his blood had gone in his loins, also grateful for either the pants hiding it or you being too concentrated on his health to notice it.

Ghost cringed at the memory of himself rushing out without saying much, but he could just not help himself any longer… laughable, a man with so much self control was crumbling under the gaze of a woman half his size.

And there he was stroking his cock like a mad man, he teased himself with slow languid movements like he imagined y/n would, you looked like a saint but he was sure you were a teasing one, a naughty girl who just wants to be spanked… and he would have liked to spank you a little too much then caress and squeeze the reddened flesh, then he would finger your pussy till it dripped down your legs and then fuck you till you were cockdrunk and overstimulated, y/ns pussy would have squeezed him so good he knew it. Ghost wanted also to mark you, suck hickeys on all visible places to let all know you were his, then cum so deep in you it would drip out for days to remind you who you belonged to. He would die for you, he would kill for you.

He would claim you because you were his and his alone.

Ghost moaned and his muscles clenched while he cummed painting his hand and abdomen in white. Bloody hell.

When his mind was clear and his breathing had calmed down he realized something.

Simon Riley was fucked, he was fucked big time as he did not only desire you, he loved you

That was the only way to explain the warmth in his chest and the raw possessiveness he felt in that moment, of course he always tought you were attractive with a beautiful face to match, competent in your job, intelligent, funny, and he cared for you but he had never realized it was more than a crush, he was beyond fucked.

What was he a teenager getting hard and jerking off for a few cresses on his thigh?! He grabbed a towel to clean his mess and went to sleep with a still rock hard cock.

[wordsbyrian]

The End - Alessia x Reader

Summary: request from @kylegggssssss "one with alessia russo where the reader suffers a career ending injury plz"

A/N: I was gonna post this, then I wasn't, then I was, then I wasn't because Walti got injured the day it was scheduled. Now I am because the idiot men won and put me in a good mood.

The thing about the human body and pain is that when you're in enough of it, it sort of just stops hurting. Your brain will give you other things to focus on while telling the rest of your body to do its best to protect your vital organs.

For example, right now, your brain is telling you to focus on how cold you are and the hands on your face instead of the pain in your leg.

The pain in your leg.

You can’t see the limb but you know it has to be bad because there are a lot of hands on your body trying to hold you still.

The hands on your face.

They feel familiar, you know these hands.

Tilting your head in the direction they seem to be coming from you see your girlfriend.

And she’s talking, well her lips are moving but you can’t hear her or anything else which is weird because you could definitely hear when you woke up this morning.

She’s also wearing her jersey, which is less weird because you’re pretty sure you were in the middle of a game before you ended up staring at the sky.

With that realization, you resume your attempts to sit up, only for all the hands to push you down again.

Turning back to your girlfriend, you also realize that you can sort of hear her. It’s hard though as if you’re underwater, and it’s only made worse by the noise of the crowd but you speak anyway.

“Less, babe, they won’t let me sit up. Tell them to let me sit up.”

Your words sound slurred, even to your own ears.

“You can't, they're bringing the stretcher out for you,” Alessia says, still not taking her hands off your face.

“I don’t need a stretcher, I need to sit up, so I can stand up and we can keep playing.”

“They’re bringing out the stretcher, lovely, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, it’s that bad?”

Before Alessia has a chance to answer the medical staff and EMTs arrive with the stretcher and faster than you can process it, they have you on it and you’re moving.

“Less, Lessi,” you say trying to bring her attention back to you from where she’s talking to one of the people carrying you.

“Yes, Y/N/N, I’m listening to you.”

“You have to stay here and score a goal for me.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t,” you tell her, “This is our last sub, and if the looks on everyone’s faces is anything to go by, you won't be able to see me for a while anyway.”

Alessia grips your hand tighter, why have you only just noticed that she’s holding your hand?

“Y/N/N,” she’s cut off by one of the medics.

“Alright, Y/L/N, we’ve really got to go now,” he says.

“What’s the rush, mate? It doesn’t even hurt.”

The guy doesn’t bother answering you, instead, he looks over his shoulder and makes a motion with the hand not holding the stretcher. Then suddenly you’re moving faster.

“Okay, so maybe we are in a rush,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Can we at least stop by the bench first?”

The medics exchange a look.

“30 seconds but nothing more,” the same guy says.

“Nothing more,” you agree.

They carry you over to where your team is huddled around Skinner, receiving instructions on how to finish the game.

Once you’re being held steady, you sit up, having finally noticed that you’re not being held down.

This gets everyone’s attention.

“Hey, team,” you say, turning your head to look everyone in the face one by one. “I’m going to hospital now but I need you guys to do me a favor and beat City because if you walk in with these sorry looks on you’re faces, I’m gonna be fucking pissed.”

No one says anything but a few of them nod and you see the rest of their faces harden, already back in game mode.

Turning your attention to your girlfriend, who has yet to let go of your hand, you give her what you hope is a reassuring smile before continuing to speak.

“I want to see the video of your goal when you come by later,” you tell her. Then laying back down, you say to the medics, “Take me away lads.”

They do.

You don’t remember much of the ambulance ride to the hospital or even actually arriving at the hospital. But you do remember getting the nerve block and hearing the whispers as they rolled you into the OR.

Your leg had remained covered the whole time, so you still hadn’t seen it but the whispers are bad.

The whispers say you’ll never play again.

When you wake up after surgery, it’s late or maybe earlier, but either way, it’s dark and Alessia is asleep in a chair beside your hospital bed.

The first thing you do is peek under the sheet covering you to get a glimpse of your leg.

Not being the biggest fan of what you see, the second thing you do is hit the call button to get a nurse in the room.

It doesn’t take one long to show up and after a quick conversation with them, you’re waiting for your surgeon.

When she arrives, you can tell by the look on her face, she only has bad news.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you awake,” she says. “I’m Doctor Jones.”

“Hey. Just give it to me straight Doc, no fluff.”

“I just want to start by saying that the surgery went very well,” she begins, “Your leg was broken in multiple places, most notably your ankle but there were fractures in both your tibia and fibula as well. We’ve realigned all of those and used plates to repair your ankle.”

“This is fluff,” you tell her, “I just need to know when I can play again.”

“Perhaps, we should wake up your friend before I tell you anymore.”

“Girlfriend,” you say firmly. “And, it’s better for everyone if you just get this over with and tell me.”

Doctor Jones pauses for a moment, clearly struggling with whether she should tell you or not before she nods.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she says, voice calm and severe, “In my professional opinion, it is doubtful that you’ll ever be able to play professionally again. To do so would be risking your ability to walk.”

“Cool,” you nod. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’d like for you to leave now,” you say, not looking at her.

“I understand,” she’s already begun walking away and is standing in the doorway. “Members of the Ortho team will be in later to check your leg and put a cast on. Then the PT will come by so you can discuss possible next steps.”

You barely hear her, her earlier words bouncing against the inside of your skull as you stare blankly at the wall.

Seconds, minutes, and hours pass.

The sun rises.

A nurse brings you breakfast, then takes it away when it becomes obvious that you aren’t going to eat it.

Alessia wakes up but you make no sign of noticing it.

The surgeon returns and the two of them go out in the hallway to talk. Alessia comes back alone and immediately climbs into the small bed with you, pulling you down so that you’re laying with your head against her chest.

She doesn’t say anything. You aren’t sure if you want her to.

Your teammates come.

They bring flowers and cards and news of the game.

Millie and Ella take it a step further and pull up highlights and take turns breaking down all 3 of the goals that happened after you got hurt.

They all try to hide it but you can see the sadness on their faces.

The ortho team comes to put your cast on and the team leaves, they all ruffle your hair as they leave the room. 

A few of them argue about who will be the first to sign your cast, there are plots to be the first ones to come visit you on their own once you’ve returned home.

Getting the cast is the worst.

The ortho tech and his assistant manhandle you into position, bending your knee and ankle so they can get it set. It goes halfway up your thigh and it starts to itch immediately.

It’s terrible.

Everything about this sucks and it only gets worse when the PT comes by.

He talks for almost 10 minutes and Alessia asks him questions.

When he leaves, you break and it’s not pretty but Less holds you the whole time.

She tells you that everything will be fine and that you’ll get through it together.

You don’t believe her when she starts talking but by the time you cry yourself to sleep, you could be easily convinced that your girlfriend is the only person who has any idea what’s going on.

That feeling doesn’t go away.

You’re in the hospital for 2 additional days after that.

You sent Alessia home the very next morning, pointing out her need to get proper rest and return to training. There is a title to secure after all.

A week after your release, you leave your and Less’s shared apartment for the first time.

It’s game day you’ve convinced your brother to drive you to LSV so you can support your friends in person.

While the wheelchair you’re forced to use is cumbersome, and you're slightly embarrassed to not be walking in under your own power, you can tell all the fans are happy to see you.

In fact, you get a notification that the team has tagged you in a photo of you letting some young fans sign your cast.

The game, though, it’s one of the best you’ve seen as a fan. It was a terrible day to be a Liverpool fan.

Afterward, your idiots teammates, mostly Millie and Vilde, take turns carrying you piggyback-style around the pitch to thank the fans.

Unfortunately, your presence manages to get the attention of the media and you find yourself sucked into the post-game presser with Skinner and Zel.

You’re zoned out for most of it but eventually, you hear the gaffer saying your name.

“Yea, obviously, we missed having Y/N out on the pitch tonight, even off the field she’s an important part of the team,” Marc says. “As for the timeline for her return, we’re currently seeking a second opinion but otherwise we’re taking it day by day and we’ll reevaluate in a few months.”

You barely manage to keep from rolling your eyes at him and you must be successful because the reporter turns his attention to you.

“Y/L/N, is there anything you can tell us,” he asks.

“I mean I’m out for the rest of the season, obviously,” you reply after taking a moment to think about it. “Otherwise, I get this cast off in a few weeks and hopefully I get a smaller one because it is pretty annoying not being able to unbend my knee.”

“Is there an official diagnosis or prognosis?”

“Yea mate, broken.”

“Have you seen the clip of how it happened,” someone else asks.

“Nah, sports psych told me not to,” you say, “I tend to listen to her. I don’t blame the City player though, not sure who it was, whole thing was a freak accident.”

You continue to answer the stupid questions for another 5 minutes before you excuse yourself, using your brother as an excuse.

Except it isn’t your brother who’s waiting for you in the hallway, it’s Alessia.

“Where’s Nick,” you ask.

“He went home,” she says, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair, “Thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“I am. Just shocked.”

You tilt your head back just in time to see her smiling down at you and you can’t help but smile back at her as she wheels you through the halls and out to the car.

Most of the car ride is silent, Less is focused on driving and you’re still trying to get used to your new role as a passenger princess.

Plus, you’re battling a lot of big thoughts while you sit with your leg elevated across the back seat.

It isn’t until you feel the car come to a complete stop and be turned off that you voice one of them.

“Hey babe?”

“Hmm?”

“You know you don’t have to stay with me, right,” you tell her calmly. “I know this isn’t really what you signed up for.”

Your girlfriend turns around to look at you only to find you staring straight out the window with the same blank look from the hospital.

You're so caught in your own head that you don’t even see her get out of the car.

One moment, you're leaning against the car door and the next you're leaning against her. Less having come around and climbed into the back with you.

“You're an idiot,” she says after a moment. “You’re an idiot and I’m not letting you break up with me.”

“Lessi, baby, just,”

You’re cut off.

“No, don’t ‘Lessi, baby’ me. For some reason you seem to think that I won’t want to be with you if you can’t play football, which is stupid,” she says, turning your head so you’re facing her. “I love you, not because you’re good at football but because you’re you.”

“I don’t know who I am if I’m not a footballer.”

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N. You’re the person who still goes to check on her former elderly neighbors because you know they don’t get a lot of visitors. The same person who once hiked 2 miles in the rain because her nephew dropped a toy and refused to leave without it. You,” she pauses for a moment, “You great big idiot, are the love of my life and I’m not letting you push me away because you’ve gotten stuck in your own head.”

“Okay.”

“Good, now let’s get inside, there’s a new episode of Big Brother tonight.”

When she reaches for the door handle, you stop her.

“Hey pretty girl,” you say, getting her attention, “I love you too and I can’t promise to stop being an idiot completely but I can promise to try.”

Your girlfriend doesn’t say anything, she just takes your face in her hands, much like she did a week and a half ago on the field, and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

[peachfridges]

Heyyyy how are you?? can I request a price x reader? 😭 TYSM

have a good day/night

late that night

summary: you return back from a mission and find yourself going straight to a certain man.

cw: fluff, pre-established relationship, can be read platonically tbh, price is a worrier, mentions of light injuries

pairing: john price x reader

word count: 558

notes: hey anon! i’m doing really well thanks <33 stressed over the mw3 trailer and wtf is gonna happen to soap and price?! i’m so sorry for taking so long to post this but i took a break from writing for a tad too long and now i’m struggling again lololol. ghost request hopefully (fingers crossed fr) will be finished soon but enjoy this short one for the time being!

exhaustion laced every muscle as you dragged your aching body through the base. it was quiet, peaceful almost. there wasn’t many people around, it was late at night and you knew that most would either be asleep or finishing off paperwork for previous missions. that was what you were supposed to be doing right now: paperwork. after spending four days on a ruthless mission that had taken a toll on you more than you cared to admit, you weren’t even given a chance to rest without having to relive the events of the last few days.

you decided it wouldn’t be tonight that you would do it. being a sergeant did in fact have its perks in a job like this. instead, your legs carries you in a familiar direction, one you took more often than you probably should, for one reason or another.

entering the rec room, you saw ghost finishing off his last mission’s report. happy to finally see someone you knew, you got his attention, “hey ghost.”

his eyes met yours and he visibly relaxed, his rough manchester accent filling the atmosphere around the two of you, “hey y/n. long mission?”

you smiled knowingly, aware that your dark circles had only deepened since you had been away. “you could say that.”

he chuckled slightly and signed off his report, “if you’re going to see him, mind taking this with you? i would take it to him myself but i don’t want to interrupt the two of you.” he looked slightly apologetic with his request, but you appreciated his sentiment.

“of course, now go get some rest.” ghost nodded at your words and made his way to his room. you got changed into something more comfortable than your previous gear. you looked over yourself in the mirror, your dark circles were in fact worse, but the faint outline of a black eye was forming around one. you sighed, fingers reaching to your busted lip which had only recently stopped bleeding. bruises and scrapes cluttered your skin in countless different places, but you knew you’d gotten off a lot better than you could’ve done.

you sighed, but still continued on your previous path towards the captain’s office.

you knocked on his door before opening it gently, as price glanced up at you with a soft smile on his face. you instantly felt better at the sight of him, placing ghost’s report on his desk and sitting on the chair facing him. he took a quick glance through the lieutenant’s papers before placing them to the side. his eyes met yours once again and studied your face, concern glistening in his eyes as he noticed the visible injuries.

you picked up on his concern, quickly attempting to put his mind to rest, “i’m fine, john. been through worse and you know i have.”

he stands up and sighs deeply, your eyes following his movements. “i worry about you.”

“i know you do, but i’m fine. i mean it.” you reach over to him and hold his hand, feeling him relax under your touch. his chest was rising and falling more steadily, and his shoulders had fallen into a casual stance. you smiled as you stood up and hugged your captain. “can’t get rid of me that easily.”

price’s deep chuckle filled the room, “oh trust me, i know.”

[writeforfandoms]

Welcome to New York 6

Find the series masterlist

Things get better, and you discover a possible way to earn some favor with Miguel. Jess helps. Sort of.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries from last chapter, stress baking, sass all around, Miguel is not quite as mean, he's getting better okay, reader has low self-esteem.

Word count: 1.9k

Eventual Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Your ankle was not sprained, somehow. Just stressed. By Monday you already felt better. 

The myriad of cuts, on the other hand, had mostly scabbed over, ugly and annoying. 

But you were determined not to let this stop you from working like normal. So you headed up to work bright and early. 

“Hey! You’re here.” Lyla popped up as you were walking through the lobby to the elevator you had to take down one level. “Figured you’d be home today.”

“Nah.” You shook your head, flexing your fingers. “I can work. Not like it’s physically intense, y’know? I’ll be fine.” You shot the AI a grateful smile, tugging your sleeves lower over your palms. 

“Mmkay.” She lowered her glasses to give you a more thorough look. “If you overdo it, I’m calling Peter.”

“Which one?” The question was flippant as you started pulling up holoscreens. 

“All of them.”

You spluttered surprised laughter and shook your head, grinning. “Duly noted. Where did I leave off on Friday?” 

You would have loved it if the day passed quietly. It did not. Peter came in to drag you up to lunch, whining that his wife had Mayday for the day. You had very little pity for him when he tried to show you a dozen pictures on his phone. 

“Peter,” you finally said, gently pushing his phone away from your face (and your food). “I know she’s adorable. But you need to eat and let me eat.” 

“Oh.” He looked briefly crestfallen, then just abashed. “Oops?” 

You snorted at him and shoved his plate closer to him. “Eat your damn lunch and let me finish mine.”

Peter snorted but obeyed, taking a giant bite out of his burger. 

So of course his mouth was still full when you spotted Miguel approaching your table. You swallowed hard, not sure what exactly to do. He still didn’t really like you, and you didn’t want to do anything to make his opinion of you somehow worse. 

Miguel stopped a few steps away, mask up as usual. But you thought he looked at you, just for a moment. “Don’t be late this time,” he grumbled to Peter, one hand on his hip while the other pointed sternly at Peter. 

“Miguel, buddy, when have I ever been late?” Peter grinned, bright and absolutely full of shit. 

“Yesterday,” Miguel deadpanned, and then ignored Peter’s spluttering denials. His head turned again to you, and you swallowed hard, hoping you weren’t about to be in trouble too. But he simply looked for two very long moments before he nodded, no more than an incremental dip of his head. 

And then he was walking away again. 

Huh. That had been… painless, really. Well. 

“Such a killjoy,” Peter grumbled, though you knew he did it more for fun than because he was actually annoyed. The man had a very deep well of patience when he wasn’t stressed. 

“Gee, I wonder why,” you deadpanned, grinning at his affronted splutter. “I’d probably be going nuts if I was trying to corral the lot of you, too.”

“You’re so mean,” Peter groaned, one hand over his heart in a dramatic motion. While you snickered at him, he suddenly switched to a little more serious, eyeing you. “How are you doing? All your cuts?” He made a vague motion to the upper half of his body.

“Okay,” you answered carefully. “Sore and itchy, but there’s not a lot to be done about that. It’s fine, I’ll heal.” 

“Yeah.” Something sad lurked in his gaze. 

“Oi.” You gently kicked his ankle. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. I’m taking it easy, all will be well.” 

Peter huffed softly, shaking his head. “Just make sure you keep an eye on them,” he advised. “Don’t let anything get infected.”

“Peter, you’re a good friend, but if you don’t stop trying to mother me I’m gonna deck you.” You grinned to take the sting out of your words, and were rewarded with more dramatic clasping of heart and even a wrist to the forehead for an extra-dramatic faint. 

The rest of the day was easier, after that. 

“Hey, Lyla?” You paused the current video and leaned back to rub your eyes. It was nearly the end of the day on Wednesday and your eyes hurt, just a bit. “How many anomalies are currently here?”

Lyla appeared in front of you, tipping her glasses down. “Why?” 

“Partially torturing myself with how much work there is to do,” you admitted easily. “And partially curiosity.” 

“At the moment? A few dozen.” Lyla shrugged. “Plenty of work to go, especially since the anomalies haven’t stopped happening.”

You hummed softly, tipping your head back to look up at the ceiling, letting your eyes rest a little. “So I’ve got job security,” you joked. 

Lyla snickered. “If that’s what you wanna call it.” 

You rolled your neck, eyeing the work still to be done. But you were tired, your brain was fried for the day. “Think anyone will notice if I skip out fifteen minutes early?” 

“Nope. Peter might even shove you out the door if he found out.” Lyla smirked at you, amused.

“Thanks, Lyla.” You stretched and waved all the screens down for the night. You’d pick up again tomorrow. 

It wasn’t until you were on the train heading home that you really thought about what it meant to have dozens of anomalies in HQ. That seemed like a bit of a disaster waiting to happen. What if the containment fields failed? What if something attacked HQ? Just seemed like a bad idea, was all. 

But you understood the decision - it was smoother to have everything properly tagged and the information put into the system ahead of time, and then send the anomalies home in batches. The corresponding Spiders probably liked it, even. Kept one (or two or, in one universe, five) villains out of trouble. 

Still. You couldn’t shake the niggling thought that it was a bad idea. 

You ended up baking to get some stress out. Making cookies had always been a good stress relief for you - mixing up the dough by hand, checking the consistency, dumping in as many chocolate chips as you wanted (and always eating a couple from the bag). It was just soothing to you. And delicious. 

It also meant you had almost three dozen cookies to take into work the next day. Early mornings tended to be quiet around HQ - most Spiders were more nocturnal, and many of them went back to their home dimensions to sleep. (Not all of them - Peter had told you about a couple floors entirely dedicated to rooms for Spiders to crash in or keep as their own. Somewhere there was an actual register of the rooms.) 

All of which meant that you arrived early, walked to the mess, set the cookies on a counter with a post-it saying “Eat me!”, and went back to work without seeing a single person. Officially no longer your problem. 

At least until lunch time, when you emerged to get something more substantial than caffeine. 

Jess sat next to you, and you blinked at her. “Afternoon,” you greeted, a little cautiously. You liked Jess fine, but she wasn’t one to really chit chat. 

“Saw you left those cookies this morning.” She kept her voice down. 

“How–oh, the cameras.” You huffed soft laughter at yourself. Duh. “Yeah, I felt like baking last night but I sure don’t need to eat that many cookies.” 

She nodded, looking around briefly, as if checking for eavesdroppers. “I’ve been craving these cookies,” she admitted quietly, patting her tummy. “But I can’t bake for shit and my husband, bless him, isn’t any better.”

“Do you have a recipe?” 

Her grin was quick and warm. “Sure do.”

“Bring it by and I’ll bake up a batch for you,” you agreed easily. “Unless you want, like, hamantaschen, those are delicious but they’re also a two-day process.” 

“Ham–no, not asking. They’re easy, nothing fancy.” 

“Then yeah, sure. No problem.” You shrugged. It really wasn’t a big deal as far as you were concerned. “Once you get me the recipe–” You stopped. She had a piece of paper in hand, waving it gently at you. “...Did you go back home to get a copy of the recipe and then stalk the mess waiting for me?” 

“I really want these cookies.” She waved the recipe again for emphasis.

You snorted. “Yeah, alright, give it.” You took the paper, scanning it quickly. You had almost everything, and it didn’t look too complicated. “I’ll stop on my way home to get a few things and bring these in tomorrow.”

“You’re my new favorite non-Spider.” She looked distinctly smug as she stood, her mission accomplished. “Oh, by the way…?”

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, half of your brain already focused on what you’d need for the cookies.

“Miguel liked them too.” She smirked at you and walked away. 

Leaving you to immediately wonder why she’d told you, then wonder if Miguel might like other sweets, then wonder if you could subtly bribe him into liking you with cookies… And then cover your face with a groan because you were not some school girl dammit! You’d outgrown these ridiculous tendencies. 

“Apparently not,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head. “Pathetic.” Shaking your head at yourself, you finished your lunch and got back to work, recipe tucked safely away with your things. 

The cookies were easy, after a quick stop on your way home. And then, well, you were already baking, it was almost no extra work to make another batch of cookies, and they’d vanished pretty damn quick… 

Which is how you ended up with nearly six dozen cookies cluttering up the entirety of your kitchen. 

“I need… something,” you sighed to yourself, hands on your hips, a smudge of chocolate on your nose. 

You thought about it as you packed up the cookies to take in the next morning. Why were you going the extra mile, here? Did you actually want Miguel to like you, or did you just want him to not glare at you all the time anymore? 

Probably the latter. Which was fair. You had to work with him, not often, but you did. He was your boss. (At least, you were pretty sure he was.) Nobody liked having a boss that was angry at them all the time. 

Or, you didn’t like it, at least. You wanted him to relax a little around you. You were so far from a threat the mere idea was laughable. 

You just… didn’t want that animosity he’d showed you to be the defining factor of your relationship. 

Huffing to yourself, you finished packing up the cookies. This was fine. Not a big deal. At least you knew your own mind, that was always a good thing. 

You left the extra batch of cookies in the mess the next morning, and then hesitated. You knew where Miguel’s office was. You could just leave some cookies for him, no need to even interact with him. 

Mind made up, you walked towards his lab/office/whatever it was. (Honestly, you’d seen the floating platform once, and thought it was overkill, but that was just you.) 

The lights were all off. Looked like you were in luck. You hopped up onto the platform, currently grounded, and left two cookies on a napkin for him. There. Good enough. 

Jess could come find you for her cookies.

Satisfied, you hopped down again and left, humming quietly to yourself. Time to get to work.

[vaal3nt1na]

IFHY | kim sunoo x reader

chapter 16 - i miss her, so much

warnings ‼️‼️

angst!!!!! cursing, threatening someone, injury, and that’s all i think!!

practice was running longer than usual today, normally that wouldn’t be a problem since you didn’t have any lessons today but you had work right after. luckily your manager was also a university student so she understood that uni or sports may hold you back a bit.

not only that but your car had recently broken down, it made sense it was your moms car before it was yours, so it was bound to break down.

currently your team and coach were huddled together in a circle, sweaty hands clutching water bottles and small towels. all ready to get this over with, “as you all know we have the tournament tomorrow, if you have any plans for before the tournament cancel them,” many of your teammates wanted to let out sighs or groans of frustration since they had things planned but what coach says goes, “we have morning practice from 9 to 1 pm, i will buy you guys lunch and breakfast if you didn’t eat before and then we will take a break to regain energy after we eat lunch, so take a nap or something. it starts at 4 pm so we will start stretching at 3 and warm up a little and then we will take a bus to jyp university and we don’t play until 6 pm so use that time to eat and warm up more if you have to” coach finished going over tomorrows plans then dismissing you after.

you felt a little annoyed but you were more concerned than annoyed, heeseungs mom is a sweet women and loves you and often asks heeseung about you. she even lets you call her mom.

as you walked to your dorm with your teammate, and also roommate, you talked about the tournament. it was her first time in a tournament so she was understandingly very nervous, “you’ll be fine, once your actually there and get into it it’s not that bad. i swear” you rubbed her back as you offered her a sympathetic smile to which she returned before unlocking the door to your dorm.

“i’m gonna shower and one of hee’s friends are coming to take me to work, i’ll be back around 8-ish” you called out from your side of the bedroom, “your closing tonight?” she asked to which you nodded at as you collected all your things.

you were lounging around, your work bag, phone and dorm keys in hand. suddenly a light but firm knock echoed thru the dorm, “he’s here, i’ll see later!” you called out to your roommate to which she replied with a be safe. you swung open the door to be faced with the one person you’ve been trying to avoid all week

and it seems like he didn’t know anything about this either, your eyes widened, his mirroring yours. “um, i’ll be right back i forgot to grab my water bottle” quickly slamming the door and scurrying back into the shared bedroom, “im going to kill heeseung, what the actual hell” you nearly shouted, you were sure sunoo heard you but you didn’t care. storming around your dorm in search for the water bottle since it wasn’t completely a lie

you quickly spotted it and grabbed it from your desk, stalling outside the door for a minute, scared to face the boy outside of your door. “damn it heeseung” you whispered to yourself before opening the door, quickly walking out and swiftly turning your back to him to lock the door, turning back to him. refusing eye contact, “let’s get going now, i’m gonna be late” he let out an agreeing hum and started walking down the hall towards the exit of the building.

you and sunoo were at least an arms length apart, you making it that way. if it was up to sunoo he’d have you right next to him, hand in hand, but he didn’t want to press any boundaries. especially with everything that had happened in the past week, he thought you looked beautiful with your hair done for work in a way he’s never seen before and your work clothes, minus the apron.

you both made it to the parking lot, you following him to his car.

unlocking it and getting in, “you know where it’s at, right?” you asked, putting you seatbelt as an excuse to not look at him. “yeah, the one by the middle school” he said as he started the car, you peaked over at him. he looked heavenly with the way the sun looked on his features, he was just missing that gorgeous smile. “yup” you nodded

the car ride was extremely awkward and quiet, neither of you making a move to talk or even look at eachother.

after 10 minutes that felt like forever, you were finally at the cafe. you dug in your bag for a minute, pulling out your wallet and pulling out a twenty. “here, for gas and as a thank you for taking my notes and the snacks” you quickly said as you shoved the 20 into his hand and shutting his car door, almost running to the back employee only door.

“hey yn! whats got you in such a rush?” your coworker asked, “was just in a very awkward situation plus i’m basically late” you groaned, running into the back and quickly putting the apron on over the jeans and black shirt you were wearing you clocked in then ran back out. “i’ll take over on orders” you said to your coworker, grabbing the notepad and pen behind the register.

after long hours of switching between the making drinks and food to register and back to orders, it was finally time to close up.

you were sweeping the kitchen when the bell above the front door rang. “im sorry sir, we’re closed” your coworker informed

“oh no i’m here for yn, i’m picking her up and was just wondering when she’ll be finishing up?” a familiar voice asked, “well she’s closing up today so she’ll probably end around 8:35, i have some extra cakes and drinks if you’d like one of each and you can eat while you wait,” she said as she gestured to the extra drinks and mini cakes you sold at the front, “sure! could i ask you something though?” he asked, the voice wasn’t registering in your head quite yet and were too far back in the kitchen to look and see who it was

“of course” she said to which he leaned over the counter and whispered something in her ear, after he finished she whispered back. “i’ll get that then”

“great! that’ll be $8.75” he nodded and choose his form of payment, left her some money and headed out back to his car. after he gave his goodbyes it finally clicked, your not sure why it didn’t click when he said he was here for you but maybe it was because of the long hours right after volleyball practice. sunoo had came in and asked your coworker something, curiosity washed over you. quickly you finished cleaning up the kitchen and rushed up to her.

“hey so, what was it that he asked?” you leaned against the counter staring at the girl next to you, “he asked for your favorites” she replied, “maybe he’s got a crush on you or something” she shrugged.

your not exactly sure why but you felt yourself getting a little emotional. feeling that familiar sensation of tears forming in your eyes that had came all week, you quickly walked away, thanking her in a small voice. once you were finished closing up she has already left leaving you by yourself.

you removed your apron and took your hair down, the feeling sending relief thru your whole body. you grabbed the rest of your things and headed to the front, finding a plastic bag and sticky note attached to it. ‘thank you for the money but i don’t need it so don’t worry about paying me. i know you probably heard me earlier and i bought something and i used the money you gave me since you probably would’ve paid me for the order if you found out i didn’t use it so here’s the rest of the money i didn’t use :) - sunoo’

you shook your head with a small sigh and put the bag and note in your bag and headed out to his car after.

“ready to go?” he asked, you nodded. after another 10 long awkward minutes you made it back to the dorms building, “oh and here yn,” he handed you a familiar box, you soon noticed after inspecting it more that it was the one from the cafe, “i got it for you when i came in earlier, it might not still be warm but i thought you’d enjoy it” he said with a sad smile that broke your heart into a million pieces, “thank you sunoo” you smiled weakly, your eyes finally meeting his. you wanted to burst into tears right then and there. his gorgeous eyes seemed to be tearing up slightly, the tip of his nose was pink due to the cold outside and his smile. the smile that once held so much joy and happiness, now seemed sad, it wasn’t nearly as lively and full as his usual one. it hurt, you wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him that you like. no, love him so so much and want him back in your life desperately, whether that would be as enemies, lovers or friends. you just want him back badly, so badly it hurt your heart to look at him.

you blinked and felt a tear slid down your cheek, followed by many more. “shit” you muttered, “thank you so much for taking me and picking me up sunoo” you said, voice nearly breaking as you rushed off towards the elevator. quickly pressing the 2nd floor button and wiping the endless stream of tears. you didn’t notice but when sunoo saw those tears fall he couldn’t help but let a few too many slip out as well. he looked down holding his hands in his head as he rushed down the hall to his dorm, eyes full of tears rushed to open the door, soon he made it in and collapsed onto his bed. sobbing into his hands

his roommate, jungwon, quickly sprung to his feet hearing sunoos sobs. “what’s the matter sunoo?” he asked as he sat down and rubbed his back. “i miss yn, so much” his voice broke, it hurt jungwon to see his friend like this. “i saw her today because heeseung made me take her to work and pick her up from it and,” he let out a sob as the moments prior replayed in his head, “take your time” jungwon said as sunoos head rested on his shoulder, jungwons resting on top of his.

“and i bought her food because i dont know if she’s been taking care of herself and when we got here she thanked me for the food and looked at me then she started crying and ran off to the elevator, it hurts so bad jungwon. i don’t know what i did” he sobbed louder, to which jungwon pulled him in closer. “it’s not your fault sunoo, i think yn reacted that way because she misses you too. she could’ve been surprised or something like that when you guys kissed at the party and her first instinct was to run away, but whatever is going on between you two i hope it works out and you guys can go to being friends at least”

sunoo nodded, wiping his tear stained cheeks with his sleeve. “thank you jungwon” he said as he sat up, “of course” he replied before standing from his bed, “i’m here if you ever need to talk or anything”

sunoo nodded, suddenly feeling tired. he let his head fall against the pillows and pulled the blanket over him, quickly falling asleep.

previous | masterlist | next

☆ an - the urges won, i had to write angst 😞 i’m very sorry but i have a love hate relationship w it. n e ways this hurt to write bc why would i wanna write sunoo crying but it just happened 😭

TAGLIST - open!

bold means i couldn’t tag you :((

@arizejkt19 @yanagisprettygf @naddii @kkalechip @valentineluvr

[starlitangels]

Into Your Family

This is a Redactedverse!AU for some original characters in an original project of mine. Just because I liked the idea and, frankly, it kinda fit. Also I haven’t done a Redactedverse-all-OC fic in a while 2.0k words almost exactly!

—

Kyla hopped off the chair and surveyed her handiwork. “How’s that look, babe?” she asked.

Archer eyed the string lights she’d hung around the living room. “They look like they’re a little... much, but they still look nice,” he said. “I mean, we don’t really need the lights inside the house.”

“That’s not what you said when I hung fairy lights in our bedroom,” Kyla teased, popping a kiss on his jaw and strolling to the kitchen. Archer rolled his eyes affectionately and followed after her.

“The fairy lights in our bedroom are much softer and were meant to replace having obnoxious lamps,” Archer pointed out. “This is decorations.”

“Yeah! And it’s winter, so it gets dark early. So we get to have extra lights,” Kyla retorted playfully. “I think the pack’s gonna like them.”

Archer swung an arm out and grabbed his mate around the waist, pulling her in close to him and burying his nose in her hair. “I think you’re right,” he replied softly, speaking into her hair and neck. “And that’s why you’re the one decorating for the birthday party, not me.”

She chuckled and turned around in his hold, tilting up onto her tiptoes and giving him another kiss. One he bent down to accept gratefully. “You’re right,” she said. “If you were the one decorating, you’d have a plain banner that says, ‘It Is Your Birthday’ hanging on the wall with, like, two balloons. Maybe one streamer hanging off the bookcase. Then you’d call it good.”

“That is not true!” Archer protested while his mate laughed.

Kyla cackled and slipped out of his hands. He chased after her. As a shifter, he was a lot bigger and stronger than she was. Faster too. But she was nimble and small and that made her hard to catch.

Not to mention she was a damn Seer and knew where he’d try and grab her before it happened anyway.

He chased her around their house while she just laughed—until she finally led him into their bedroom and slammed to a halt.

Archer wasn’t expecting her to just stop and couldn’t slow down fast enough. He ran right into her, his momentum spilling them both onto the bed. Kyla was laughing as Archer frantically checked her over for injuries.

“Kyla—oh my God—are you okay?” he demanded.

She was still giggling. “I’m fine, baby. But you should have seen your face!”

He growled and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Of course I’d be concerned,” he grumbled.

“Awww. Big, tough, scary alpha all worried about his little mate,” she teased.

He climbed off of her. “You’re such a menace. C’mon. You finish decorating while I get the cakes started.” He climbed off of her and offered her his hand to help her up.

She took it—and paused. “Wait. Cakesss? With an ‘S’? As in, multiple?”

Archer nodded. “Oh... that’s right. This is your first birthday celebration with the pack. Yeah. We’re wolves, beautiful. We tend to eat more than normal people. So, yeah. I need to make... probably three. And even then, Kashton’s mom will still bring one or two and we’ll definitely get through most of it.”

Kyla blinked owlishly at him. “Alrighty then. Guess we better get going on that.”

“Mmhmm.”

—

“Auntie Kyla!” a young voice exclaimed as the front door to the house opened. The note taped to the door that said, Come On In! was doing its job, apparently.

Kyla turned to see Cedric running through the living room toward her. She bent her knees so she was closer to his eye level and held her arms out. He slammed into her in a hug. She held onto him tightly, deliberately ignoring the images of his future radiating off of him. “Hiii Ced!” she greeted. “Are you excited for Uncle Kashton’s birthday?”

“Uh-huh!” Cedric nodded enthusiastically, bonking his chin into Kyla’s shoulder.

He called her “auntie” more out of affection than relation. Archer was the alpha of the pack, but not related to either of Cedric’s parents; and Kyla was humanborn, not yet married to her mate. Kashton, however, was Cedric’s dad’s brother, and was actually Cedric’s uncle.

“Me too,” Kyla agreed. “I’m excited to celebrate with everyone.”

Cedric giggled as Kyla scooped him up and held him on her hip. For being seven, he was kinda small for his age and didn’t weigh much.

His parents chuckled as they followed him into the house. Liesl, his mother, gave Kyla a side-arm hug. “Lovely to see you, as always,” she said as Kepler, her mate and Cedric’s father, also gave a side-arm hug.

“Nice to see you both as well,” Kyla offered. She set Cedric down as he started squirming and let him go over to where Archer was spreading frosting over the cakes that had finally cooled down. “How’s everything going with you three?” She gave them both a grin, trying to be friendly. She’d known Archer longer than the rest of his pack, and was still working on getting to know everyone else the normal way. She’d gotten much better at ignoring the visions of people’s entire futures she got upon first meeting them because she wanted to get to know people the right way.

“Things are going okay,” Liesl said. Kepler nodded.

“That’s good. I’m happy to hear that,” Kyla replied with a grin.

Liesl held up a gift bag with tissue paper poking out of the top. “Where do presents go?”

“You can just set it on the coffee table by ours.” Kyla gestured over to where a wrapped box sat.

“Thanks.”

Kepler and Liesl were around Archer’s age. About twenty-five. Archer had mentioned to Kyla briefly that they’d Cedric really young. Liesl was humanborn—as was pack beta Lowell’s mate, Amara—and by the time Archer’s father and alpha-at-the-time Conri found her and realized she was a humanborn with no pack, she’d been about seventeen. She’d fallen for Kepler hard and fast and Cedric had been born a year later.

Apparently, at first, that had been a point of contention between Kepler and his parents. Until Cedric was actually born.

But the glimpses Kyla hadn’t ignored of the family’s futures showed they were going to be happy, overall.

The front door opened again. “The party has arrived!” another familiar voice announced.

Kyla turned to see Archer’s younger sister—who was closer to Kyla’s age at twenty-two—bursting into the house like a firework show. She had the same warm black hair and bronze skin as her brother, though she didn’t hold her summer tan quite as long through the winter.

“Hey Zinnia!” Kyla greeted. “The roomies right behind?”

“You know it.” Zinnia gave Kyla a hug before going to go bother her brother.

Trailing into the house after her were her two roommates, and fellow pack members.

Rory, the resident rebel, and the birthday wolf himself, Kashton. Rory gave Kyla a half-assed hug as she stepped into the house, brushing her short bangs out of her eyes, but Kashton threw his arms around Kyla with great enthusiasm. “Hey Kyyy!” he greeted.

“Hi Kash. Happy birthday.”

“Why thank you.” He gave her his lopsided smile, flipping his shaggy red curls out of his face as he stepped into the house and closed the front door behind him.

When Kyla had first started hanging around the pack, Kashton had flirted with her a lot. Until he realized exactly how serious Archer was about her and stopped.

“Kaaash!” Kepler greeted.

Over the next couple minutes, the rest of the pack turned up. Archer and Zinnia’s parents Conri and Elspeth. Archer’s beta Lowell and his mate Amara. Lowell’s parents, Rory’s parents, and Kashton and Kepler’s parents. Whose names Kyla was still struggling to remember. She loved Archer and cared deeply about his pack and his position in it—but the fact remained that they hadn’t been together long and she didn’t see the pack as often as he did and struggled with their names.

But Archer had been right—Kashton’s mother brought two birthday cakes of her own.

Kyla could have guessed that if she looked into the future, but she’d chosen not to.

She crossed into the kitchen to find Archer finishing his work on the frosting of the cakes. “They look delicious, my love,” she said, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his arm since she wasn’t going to bother trying to reach anything higher.

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Is tonight going to go well?”

She glanced up at him. “Of course it is.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You really want me to look at the outcome of a birthday party?”

“Kyla. It’s your first celebration with the pack. I know you’ve met all of them before but...” He sighed. “I don’t want anyone causing trouble for you. Or anyone else.”

Giving him a fond look, she blinked and let the future in.

The vision was brief but it always made her stumble when she took a deeper look into the future than the passive, surface-level images that she usually saw.

Archer caught her before she could stagger into the counter, supporting her weight by pressing her to his chest until her knees could handle her weight again. He cupped the back of her head and held her protectively.

She blinked hard. A slight violet tint to her dark brown eyes petered away as the magic stopped being used. “The party’s gonna be fine. There’s only a few threads of possibility where Lowell sets the kitchen on fire. Balance of probability? Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Good.”

“Hey lovebirds!” Zinnia called from the living room. “Is it time for cake or what?”

Archer chuckled and picked up one of the cakes, gesturing for Kyla to grab the other with a nod. She beamed and snatched it up carefully. “On our way, you twerp,” Archer replied loudly.

They emerged into the living room, and Kyla started the Happy Birthday song. Everyone joined in quickly as Kashton and Kepler’s mom set one of her cakes in front of her younger son. There was already a candle on it. Kyla set her cake down and snapped her fingers, lighting the candle before the song could finish. Kashton’s mother gave her a grateful look. She just smiled.

The song reached its conclusion and Kashton laughed before taking a deep breath and blowing out the candles.

Archer put his arm around Kyla as the pack swarmed Kashton. He tugged her away from the crowd. “How are you faring?” he asked softly.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows scrunched with unasked questions. “Fine?” she said.

He tilted his head to the side slightly. “You sure? I mean, you’re... you’re young. I know we haven’t been living together long but are you still okay with it?” He cupped the side of her face to make sure she kept eye contact with him. He was twenty-five and she was twenty-two. He sometimes barely felt ready to live in a house with just his mate.

“Of course I’m still okay with it, Archer. I love you. You showed me a whole world where I’m not alone. I mean, sure, Seers are rare and humanborn Seers are practically nonexistent. But at least I’m not the only person on this planet with powers I can’t explain. And you... you welcomed me into your family before we ever started dating. Just because... you knew I needed it. My family threw me out for having powers, and you took me in and I’m so happy to be with you in our home.”

He pressed a deep kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, beautiful.”

She gave him a half-smile. “C’mon, love. Let’s go have some of that cake you made before your literal pack of ravenous wolves eats it all gone before we get the chance.” Winking at him, she tugged him toward his pack by the hand.

[jedibongrip]

i am BEGGING for any more headcanons you have for the abo mind break verse, i’m OBSESSED with the snippet you posted

>:3c

spoilers (even tho idk when i'll finish it enough to post it) under the cut

probably one of the biggest components is luke and leia are actually (alpha) padme's biological kids. she and anakin were involved before mustafar and anakin was pregnant with the twins at the time. but then obi-wan (kinda force) bonded them, did the whole mind fuckery thing, so anakin doesnt KNOWS that the twins are related to obi-wan. when rey is born, obi-wan is SO relieved that she also has dark brown hair, because anakin was getting pouty (not suspicious but you never know) that luke had blond hair, like anakin did as a child, but leia didnt look anything like obi-wan. and obi-wan kept insisting, well, your mother had dark hair didn't she? so rey also having dark hair kinda 'proved' obi-wan's 'theory' in anakin's mind.

anakin knows he was a jedi and a general, and he remembers a lot of stuff from his training and some stuff from the war but he doesnt remember a lot of specifics or a lot of people. he could use a lightsaber from muscle memory (not that obi-wan lets anakin near it) but if you showed him a photo of ten council members, he could probably only name one or two, besides obi-wan.

and the thing that makes the mind break verse SO good (imo) is that. this is a genuine case of all of this is done out of love. if obi-wan didnt force bond anakin, then his canon injuries would have occurred and he would have fully become darth vader. if anakin remembers he fell, or falls again, then he'll go out into a world that is ready and wants to kill him (surviving jedi [gonna alter order 66 to some extent], other darksiders, members of the republic who desperately want to keep laying blame at someone's feet for the entire war). obi-wan loves anakin and wants him to live and be happy. anakin does love obi-wan, and trusts him so entirely, which is why believe his mate when he gives him weird medicine and says that another baby will fix him.

also a nasty hc: because anakin can't remember their 'courting phase' (which... did not exist) obi-wan had to invent what they did (thankfully he could use the excuse that it was very private/in secret and they got married in secret) AND what level of intimacy they had with each other. and since anakin wakes up after mustafar already pregnant, clearly they already had sex, right? so obi-wan kinda makes some stuff up and kinda... tells anakin that they did way more things than anakin would think he would do. but he MUST have done them, right? His mate said so.

which is to say, obi-wan accidentally shapes anakin into his perfect slut because he said that anakin loved to suck him off, that they did anal, dping with toys, that anakin let obi-wan put his cock in a cage and fucked his pussy (intersex omegaverse) until he cried, that anakin liked being tied up, spanked, covered with hot wax, etc etc. and yeah eventually anakin DOES like those things, but in true mind break fashion... he only gets there because he was told he already liked them >:)

[blurredout10]

Fic writer ask time!

💞🤲💌

Tell us everything you want, please! 💙💙💙

AHHHH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

From this ask.

💞 - what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

OOH. So i think I’ll have to go with the feel. Whether its something I have written myself or reading from someone else’s work, I know I’m an emotional person and so any fics with an emotional depth feels immersive for me. Experiencing it directly with a sheltered glass, feeling the angst and pain without the injury.

I think when a fic has feel, the other things dont really matter. Plot, characters etc are more skill to me. They can be very well done or not given any attention at all. It’s all in the fic’s ✨flavour✨

🤲 - what do YOU get out of writing?

Post-publish euphoria. The happy dances when someone comments. That relief when I’ve FINALLY finished something. And I also tend to project heavily onto characters so it’s always nice to find a way to reflect upon myself via written work. 👍Therapy👍

💌 - share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

OOOOH.

So I’ve given too many snippets for the Bookshop AU so I’m gonna do something a little different.

I’m working on an aroace fic with Connor x Reader. A lot of it involves exploring the kind of relationship that works for them. Beyond romantic and sexual.

It took a second, though it again felt dragged into minutes, before he paired the lock of his eyes with a hand, a gesture for the slouch in your chair. A hand to making change.

“Would you care to see other chandeliers to prove my point?” His voice was no louder than before, but sounded over the crowd with ease, collecting your full attention with a glitter of hope in his eyes. It was intoxicating, that chance, that escape, and he flexed the tips the of his fingers to prompt you.

You took it.

I’m very excited for this fic. BUT I am working on bookshop first.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTIONS!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WANNA GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

[katb357]

Sicktember 27: Sleepless Night

M. Stoker/A-Shift/Emergency!

Thank you Xav!

“He shoots! He scores!” Chet Kelly was on his feet pumping his fist in the air in celebration. He must have jumped up harder than he intended to, though, because Johnny felt a shockwave when he hit the ground.

“Hey, Chet! Ya don’t gotta put a hole in my floor!” But Chet wasn’t moving now and the apartment still was. “Damn! Guys, earthquake!”

Mike dropped his beer in shocked realization as the floor shook harder. “Big one!”

Out the window, Johnny could see the water in the pool sloshing out onto the pavement. Then he noticed that the ceiling was starting to crumble. He lived in an older building, and it wasn’t exactly up to code. It was what he could afford. He’d never actually been home for an earthquake before. “So what do we--”

He never got to finish the question. Things must have happened fast, but to him it appeared like they went in slow motion. The ceiling caved in and an end table from the apartment above actually fell into his living room. At the same time, the floor seemed to fold in half. Johnny grabbed hold of Roy and held on tight.

Mike was tossed ass over teakettle across the room and Chet managed to get into the kitchen doorway and hold on. Marco tried for a grab at the couch, but slid across the floor instead. Fortunately, nothing hit him in the process. (Cap had bailed on the poker night to spend some much needed time with his wife.)

By the time the shaking stopped, they were no longer on the second floor of the apartment building. That is to say, the second floor was now down in the basement.

Fortunately, although they were trapped, John would learn later that his downstairs neighbor was not home at the time of the quake. He’d had tickets to the game Johnny and the guys were watching on television.

Once everything was still, Johnny gave Roy the once over. “You hurt, Pally?” He would deal with his own injuries later. He’d done something to his right wrist, and he knew he had a gash above his left eye because blood was dripping down and affecting his vision. Once he had checked on all his friends, he would figure out what he needed to do for himself.

“Other than bein’ shook up and havin’ a sore back, I’m fine. That was a helluva ride, Junior.”

“Yeah,” John said with a wry laugh. “Makes me miss Oklahoma.” He looked around. He could see Chet and Marco, and they looked like they were mostly OK. “Where’s Mike?”

“Wish we had some light down here.” Roy lamented. He called out for the engineer, “Mike! You okay?” No answer.

They called for a few more minutes before finally getting a response, although not one they had hoped for. It came from above them. “Here. I’m here, an’ hurtin’. Stuck someplace.”

“Damn. How’re we gonna get him down from there?” John was holding his injured wrist up close to his chest.

A small but bright light came on above them. Mike always carried a penlight in his pocket and he had managed to reach it. He was lying on half of the shattered floor/ceiling.

John’s hand was starting to hurt a lot, but he didn’t say anything. Mike was in a tricky position and it would take all of them to get him out. “OK, guys… I think I see how we can do this.” He outlined his plan.

Chet nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

The men of 51’s A Shift worked well together, and they were able to switch smoothly into rescue mode, even though they were off-duty. Johnny figured they would get Mike out, and then they’d better start looking for other residents who might need help. “Chet, can you fit in that space?”

Chet checked around the basement and shook his head. “Not safely. I think we’re stuck down here until help comes, pal. Let’s just get Mike down and see what shape he’s in.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “That’s what I meant, ya meathead. Someone’s gotta squeeze into that space to get hold of him, and usually I’d volunteer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.”

“Well, yeah, I can reach him if I stand on someone’s shoulders… or if I had some rope.”

John scrunched up his forehead to think. “Rope… I’ve got rope. But I’m not sure where my kitchen cabinets ended up. Just… stand on my shoulders.”

Mike interrupted them. “Don’t bother. Just get ready to catch me. I got loose from the board that I was hooked on.”

“You sure about that, Mike?” Roy asked. “You could make an injury worse that way.”

“I’m droppin’ one way or the other, your way one of you clowns could drop me anyway.”

“Mike, keep still and wait for us,” Johnny barked. Even though he had said he’d rather not volunteer, he used his left hand to pull his coffee table under the hole and then he worked his way on top of it and stood up. He was able to look Mike in the eyes this way. “OK… I’m here and I’m gonna help ya. I promise I won’t drop you.” He looked down. “Roy, climb up here and give us a hand.”

Roy did as John asked, by this time making use of his own penlight. He briefly flashed it at Mike’s eyes, confirming what he had suspected. Concussion. He got the cussing out he expected in return. Yep, definitely concussed.

Down below, Chet’s eyes widened in awe. “I didn’t know Mike knew those words!”

“Just don’t tell Beth. She’ll wash his mouth out with soap,” Roy quipped. He had noticed Johnny favoring his wrist, so he took the lead on lifting Mike down. “Almost there, pal.”

That was when they found out just how mouthy their quiet engineer got when he had a concussion. Downright rude, actually! Apparently whatever they did when pulling him out of the hole hurt, and he let them know about it in no uncertain terms.

Johnny hopped down off the table and got to work taking Mike’s vitals. He had to do everything left-handed, though, and that was awkward.

Mike became briefly combative, “leave me ‘lone ya damned buzzards!” He batted at John’s left hand, clearly not all there at the moment.

“Knock it off, Mike!” John reached with his right hand to grab at Mike’s flailing arm. He wasn’t in the mood for an uncooperative patient. “We’re tryin’ to help you!” Once he finally managed to get hold of his friend, he yelped at the pain in his wrist.

“I’m tryin ta knock it off!” Mike yelled.

“I don’t mean my hand!” Johny spluttered. He took a deep breath and forced himself back into paramedic mode. “Just calm down, Mike. We’re trying to help you here. You have a head injury.”

“Well, no duh, Sherlock! Hey genius, you’re bleedin’ all over the place.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, then rubbed his sleeve over the left eye to clear away the blood. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll deal with that later. You’re the priority at the moment, Mike. You’ve got a concussion.” At least a combative Mike was better than a drowsy Mike, he told himself… harder to treat, but Johnny would worry more if the injured engineer was lethargic. “Roy, if you can figure out where my kitchen ended up, maybe you can find my first aid kit and get some gauze--” He stopped mid-sentence. “I’m sorry. You said your back was hurtin’. I shouldn’t ask you to do that. Chet, make yourself useful.”

Chet began scrounging around looking for the kitchen sink…he figured that would be a good start. Eventually he found it and the cabinet containing the first aid kit. Belatedly, he also found the rope they had needed earlier, which might still come in handy. He gave the gauze to Roy, who cleaned and bandaged John’s cut the best he could.

“All right, Junior. Let me see that hand, too,” Roy said sternly.

Johnny tried to wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ll take care of it later.”

“I’ll take care of it now,” Roy insisted. “Now let me look.” He checked it over and then jury-rigged a sling using his jacket. “It could be broken, but you’ll need an x-ray to be sure. Keep it still, got it?”

“Yeah yeah, I know the drill. Can we deal with Mike now before he expires on us?” John moved back to Mike’s side. “What I wouldn’t give for the biophone right now,” he muttered. “No way the phones are working. We’ve just gotta wait around for someone to come get us.”

Mike had obviously heard at least part of what John had said. “Expires? What am I? Bologna?” He immediately segued into another subject. “Hope Hank and Em are okay.” He was starting to settle down, which might or might not be a good thing in his case.

“They moved into that new subdivision… all those houses are up to code and everything. I bet they’re fine.” Johnny settled down next to Mike. “How are you feelin’ now?”

“Like I got slapped by a building, how do you think I feel?”

“I’m just askin’. You don’t have to bite my head off.” John usually was able to keep a cool head in tough situations, but right now he was feeling very much on edge.

Mike yawned. “Well, don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to, then, okay?” He closed his eyes.

“Shut up Mike.” John was irritated and grouchy, but he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Looking down, he saw Mike’s eyes had closed. “No. Don’t shut up. You gotta stay awake, Mike. Tell us about when you met Beth.”

One eye opened and stared at him balefully then shut again. “No.”

Roy prodded the engineer. “Wake up, Mike. You gotta keep talkin’. I wanna hear about you and Beth too.”

This time both eyes opened. He focused blearily on Roy for a moment, then shut his eyes and sighed. “Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Boy proposes. Girl says yes. Girl’s father threatens to shoot Boy. Couple Elopes. End of story.”

“Beth’s dad was really gonna shoot ya?” Chet asked. “What’d ya do, Mike?! Knock her up?”

“Chet, you’re an idiot,” Johnny said. But he hoped the comment would serve the purpose of waking Mike up.

Mike shook his head, but didn’t rise to the bait Chet threw out. “No, I just wasn’t the one he had picked out for his daughter to marry. He hated me for it. That’s all.”

“Does he still,” Roy wanted to know.

Mike shrugged. “He’s dead. Died ten years ago. We never looked back after we left town. Her mother sent us a message telling us we were dead to them. We took her at her word.”

He closed his eyes again and proceeded to ignore them.

“Wow. And I thought I had mother-in-law problems,” Roy said. “Mine hates me, but at least she never cut Jo off.” He nudged at Mike’s shoulder. “C’mon, Stoker. Wake up or I’ll help Chet put firecrackers in Big Red’s exhaust pipe when we get outta here.”

Mike ignored him for a long moment, then sighed. “Look, I know what you’re all doing. My head hurts bad. I wanna sleep. I know I shouldn’t but I’m a big boy. Leave me alone.”

He shut his eyes again.

Roy leaned in and spoke softly. “Mike, you gotta understand, in your condition, sleep is a bad idea. You’re holdin’ a conversation OK, but your pupils are dilated and we haven’t really had a chance to evaluate you fully. Sleep could be dangerous for you right now. I know it hurts. I wish I could make it stop hurting, but I can’t.”

“Can I smack Chet for that ‘knocked up’ comment?”

“Be my guest,” Johnny said, gesturing toward the mouthy Irishman. “If you wanna smack Chet, you can go first in line.”

“Hey!” Chet protested. “If I get smacked, I’m smackin’ back!”

Now Mike sat up. “Oh yeah? That was a lousy thing to say about my wife, Chet. I should knock you on your can for it!”

“It wasn’t about your wife, it was about you! And… well… I only said it because I wanted to help wake you up.” He shrugged up a shoulder. “I thought if I made you mad it would be easier. I don’t want you endin’ up in a coma or anything like that!”

Mike stared at Chet for a long minute, then grinned. “Congratulations Sunshine… it worked.” He leaned back against the wall and stared at his friends. “I’ll try to stay awake, but I can’t guarantee anything. It’s gonna be a long night.”

Johnny yawned, but if Mike wasn’t able to sleep he sure as hell didn’t plan to. “Guys, I’ve been thinkin’ about poppin’ the question myself.”

Mike immediately shot back, “Sorry John, I’m taken. You’re too late.”

Marco coughed, then asked, “Seriously? Who is she?”

Johnny was glaring at Mike, but he turned to Marco and answered. “Well, I haven’t actually been introduced to her yet. But she’s a total dream. You know that new nurse up in cardiology? Her name’s Sophia. Just floats off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Junior. You don’t even know this girl. She could be an ax murderer with your luck!”

“They hire ax murderers in cardiology these days?” John shook his head. “No, she’s the future Mrs. Gage. I’m sure of it. I just hafta get up there and ask her out. Dixie’s the one who told me she was single. And get this… she saw me from across the room the other day and she told Dixie she thought I was cute.”

Mike snickered, “Everybody thinks you’re cute, Johnny. Even some of the guys in the department think you’re cute… old ladies think you’re cute!”

Now it was time for Johnny to roll his eyes. “Give me a break, Stoker.” After a beat he added, “It’s true, though--old ladies love me. It’s the Gage charm.”

“You know who loves you is Jake…oh, never mind.” Stoker was cracking himself up.

“If you didn’t have a concussion, Mike…” Johnny was getting mad now. “Gee, ya save a guy’s life and he thinks he can take pot shots at ya. There’s gratitude for ya.” He instinctively balled up his right hand in a fist and then he really yelped.

Mike managed to look contrite, which he was. “Sorry, Johnny. Guess this thing has got me talkin’ too much. Maybe sleeping would be better after all.”

“No, no… don’t sleep.” John waved his left hand in the air. “Let’s just move on. Roy… we know you met JoAnne in the fourth grade. We’ve all heard that story. Marco, you seein’ anyone?”

“Mi amor Elena. She is a beautiful senorita I met at a party a few weeks ago. She teaches Spanish at a school not too far from the station actually. We have been out several times. I think we have something very special happening.”

“How’d you meet?” Roy asked.

“My brother Fernando was throwing a party and she came with her sister. We met there.”

Roy sat up straight, an idea brewing in his mind. “Guys, when we get out of this, let’s plan a cookout. Marco, you can bring Elena so we can all meet her. And Stoker, you’ll bring your family. John, maybe you can get Sophia to come. How about you, Chet… anyone you would bring?”

“I could find someone. I’m not seeing anyone specific right now, but there’s a few girls I know.”

“What should we have? I’ve been tryin’ to talk JoAnne into gettin’ a smoker for the backyard. And I hear Mike makes a great barbecue sauce.”

Just then they heard voices shouting from outside the building. Help had arrived at last. It had been a long sleepless night, but they had made it… with teamwork and friendship.

The End

[pathmade]

@diedrobin said : “So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but… I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.”

she's accustomed to the red hood showing up at her window by now . in fact , she has grown to expect it . these nights are the worst , however . nights when he shows up , beaten and bloodied , and with nowhere else to go . she tells herself that she's glad he comes to her that he trusts her enough despite his resentment for bruce . but even so , her heart breaks a little more each time he appears on her fire escape in shambles .

she's up before he even finishes talking , already closing thed distance between them as she helps him in through the window . she can already see the flood dripping from his leg , and the sight of it makes her stomach churn . " dammit , jay . what kind of trouble did you get into this time ? " she helps him to her bathroom , adrenaline allowing her to support his weight . she can already tell by the amount of blood that simply stitching him up is not going to be enough , and as she grabs her first aid kit , she also unearths her cauterizing tools .

" this is not gonna be fun , jay , " she says as she returns to the bathroom , crouching down on the floor in front of him . she grabs scissors from the med kit , immediately starting to cut the leg of his jeans . " one joke about me cutting up your jeans , and i'm calling alfred instead , " she mumbles as she finishes cutting the pants , finally revealing the true severity of his injury . she's no medical expert , but even she knows that the cut on the back of his leg is deep enough to slice his tendon .

she stays quiet as she gets to work , focusing on cleaning it as best as she can which is easier said than done due to the bleeding . she realizes she has no choice but to cauterize first . she reaches for his jacket , rummaging through his pockets until she finds what she's looking for : morphine . she uncaps the epipen , meeting jason's gaze for a moment before jamming it into his leg near the wound , injecting it . she's never been more thankful for knowing that he carries it , as her own emergency supply is running low . " sorry , " she whispers , before she gets started on the hard stuff .

even with the morphine , he still screams . the smell of burning flesh makes her sick to her stomach , but she keeps going . she has to . she has to get the bleeding stopped , or else he's going to be in trouble . luckily , her time of patching up assorted members of the bat family have helped , and eventually , she finishes . she pauses to wipe his forehead , now beaded with sweat . " you did great , big guy , " she mutters , her voice gentle but still a bit shaky . he's unconscious at this point , but she still feels the need to reassure him . " you did so good . "

she focuses on getting him patched up , cleaning his wound , stitching it closed the rest of the way , and wrapping it up as well as she can . she makes arrangements with alfred , scheduling a surgery to repair the tendon in jason's leg as soon as he's recovered . and then she collapses onto the bathroom floor , the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving her worn out . " you're gonna be okay , " she mumbles , her hand shifting to rest on top of his . " i've got you , jaybird . "

[wordsbyrian]

Dislocated - Sophia Smith x Reader

Summary: R gets injured during the game and handles it poorly. her girlfriend Sophia is not very happy about it.

A/N: requested by an Anon. And as your author I must let you know that dislocating your shoulder is not a pleasant experience.

It’s official, you hate corner kicks.

Not only do they rarely result in a goal but they also force you, a defensive center midfielder, to be in front of the opposition’s goal. Somewhere you have no business being.

And now, they’ve caused you to dislocate your shoulder in the least fun way you can imagine, by banging it straight into the goalpost.

Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve dislocated your shoulder, more like 5th or 6th time, but it isn’t one of those things that gets less painful the more you do it. It is, however, the first time you’ve done it in the middle of the game which really, really, sucks.

There is nothing worse than having the entirety of Providence Park staring at you while you pull yourself off the ground, one arm hanging limply, and walk to the trainers on the side with less than two minutes remaining in the first half’s injury time.

You spend most of the halftime break in the treatment room getting your shoulder back where it needs to be and the rest convincing Rhian and the medical team that you’re good to play in the second half.

On one hand, your begging works which means you do indeed get to continue playing. On the other, the successful campaign to stay on the field means that the trainers can’t give you anything stronger than the cold spray before sending you back out.

You don’t manage to see your girlfriend Sophia that entire time but the look she gives you when you trot back onto the field with the rest of the team means nothing but trouble for you.

The second half of the game goes fairly smoothly as far as you’re concerned and you guys manage to hold onto the lead to secure the victory. You do find yourself favoring your injured shoulder and you know that it’s fairly obvious to everybody.

When the final whistle sounds and you shake all of your opponents’ hands, you try to join Sophia in interacting with the fans like you normally do but all she says to you is “Go see George,” before walking away.

“Soph, babe,” you say, jogging to catch up.

“I’m serious Y/N, go have George and the rest of the training staff look at your shoulder.”

Her voice is frosty and before you know it she’s walking away from you.

Deciding to just give her the space that she clearly needs, you shake your head and head down the tunnel to the treatment room.

“George,” you call out, opening the door, “What do I have to do for you to tell Sophia I’m fine and to stop worrying.”

To his credit, George, the head trainer, doesn’t even flinch when you barge in like that anymore, he doesn’t even look up from the paperwork he’s filling out.

“Take a shower, come back and let me have another look,” he says.

“Bet.”

Running back to the locker room, you take a quick shower and gather your stuff before heading back to the trainers.

As you sit on the table and watch George poke and prod at your shoulder, you can already tell that while it’s bad, it’s not nearly as bad as it could be.

“Alright, Y/N good news is you likely won’t need surgery but we won’t know until the bruising goes down,” he says, taping your shoulder.

“Bad news is you’re gonna be out and in a sling for a few weeks.”

Groaning you let him finish doing his job before putting on your shirt and the sling and heading off to find your girlfriend.

You don’t spend too much time looking for her, as you come across both her and Crystal waiting by the door that leads to the parking lot.

In what is probably going to go down as the worst decision you’ve made today, you choose not to say anything and instead just use your good hand to reach for your bag that Sophia is holding.

“Uh, no,” Sophia says, taking a step back and away from you, “And while we’re at it give me the car keys.”

“Babe, I can carry my bag, I’ve still got one working arm,” you say, not bothering to fight her on the car keys, placing them in her open palm. But you do reach for your bag again, getting frustrated when she takes another step back. “Seriously Sophia?”

She doesn’t say anything, readjusting the bags on her shoulder and heading out the door and into the parking lot.

Looking at Crystal, you just see her shaking her head and following Sophia out the door, you behind her.

For the most part, the parking lot is empty and you’re glad because, at the very least, you won’t be subject to the embarrassment of having your whole team watch your girlfriend ignore you.

After saying your goodbyes to Crystal and asking her to say ‘wassup’ to Marcel for you, you and Sophia climb into your car and begin your silent ride home.

And it is truly a silent ride as she refuses to speak to you.

Even once you make it back to your apartment, she just goes about getting ready for bed without saying anything to you.

You try to do the same and give her space to cool down but eventually, you have the dilemma of attempting to take off the long sleeve shirt you were dumb enough to put on.

Wandering towards the kitchen you stop in the doorway when you see her filling the dog’s bowls.

“Are you just going to stand there staring or do you need something,” Sophia says, standing up to wash her hands.

You mumble out what you’re trying to tell her, cheeks heating up at the predicament you find yourself in.

She starts to say something but turns around and sees you standing there with half your shirt bunched up around your neck, bad arm held close to your body.

“Oh, baby,” she says, making her way to you, “why didn’t you just say that you need some help?”

Biting your lip, you stay silent allowing her to maneuver your shirt over your head and carefully down your arm. When she lets out a gasp at the sight of your bruises peeking out from under the wrap, you turn your head, face getting inexplicably hotter.

“It looks worse than it is,” you say, still not looking at her.

“You shouldn’t have come back into the game and you know it Y/N/N.”

“I didn’t think it would be bad enough to keep me out for more than a week,” you say in an attempt to explain.

“That doesn’t matter,” she exclaims, tossing your shirt onto the counter. “Do you know how scary it was to watch you run into that post and then walk off without saying anything to anyone, your arm dangling only for you to come back and try to act like nothing happened?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, but she’s on a roll and has taken to pacing while continuing to rant.

“You always do this and it fucking sucks because one day you might get seriously hurt but ignore and where will that leave me?”

“I know and I’m sorry,” you say again.

“Damn right you’re sorry. Wait what?”

“I’m trying to apologize for scaring you and being an inconsiderate idiot, if you’ll let me,” you explain, pulling her into a hug with your good arm. “I’m still not used to having people care about every dumb decision I make and I want to do better in the future because you deserve better than having to put up with my shit.”

She mumbles something into the side of your neck before placing a light kiss there, and you don’t need to hear her to know that you’ve been forgiven.

“Wanna go lay in bed and watch Love Island while I pretend to not pay attention,” you ask when she pulls away.

She doesn’t bother answering you, simply grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and trotting off back to your shared bedroom, so naturally, you follow her.

It takes the two of you a while but eventually, you find a position that’s comfortable enough for the two of you to fall asleep in and you both know that you won’t get through much more than an episode or two.

As the first episode draws to a close, you can’t help but look down at Sophia who is currently doing her best impression of a koala with the way she’s so fully wrapped herself around one side of your body.

“Hey Soph, you know I love you, right?”

“I love you too, even when you’re a jerk,” she says, moving her head slightly to look at you.

You lean over pressing a kiss to her lips, sighing happily when she returns it.

It gets heated pretty quickly but as you begin to run your hand up the inside of her shirt, she pulls away causing you to whine a bit.

“Soph, come back.”

“Nice try, Y/N/N.”

“I’m not trying anything,” you say, not very convincingly considering your hand is still up her shirt.

This of course causes her to shoot you look best described as unimpressed, so you pull your hand out and wrap it back around her shoulders.

“So explain to me again why all these women are fighting over these dudes that are carbon copies of each other?”

[cryptids-lobelia-garden]

Heh, so uh, funny story! My job was busier than I expected yesterday (and today) so I thought I’d have more time to do this and I didn’t! BUT FRET NOT, FOR IT WAS MADE ANYWAY! Anyway, I’ve accepted my schedule for uploading these will be irrregular, but I’m gonna do it anyway, I’m having fun inflicting my little guys with The Horrors.

Anyway.

I should probably mention my interpretation of Volo isn’t immortal, he’s just a ball of spite towards the god that abandoned him and he will become a ghost type to make sure Arceus never gets peace if he has to.

Warnings: I don’t like Cogita, uh.. aftermath of Pokemon battle gone wrong? They’re okay (I don’t like killing off characters) but yeah, they were outmatched REALLY badly, so. Animal injury. Also animal attack aftermath (not super bad just exists).

Day 4: Swaying

Volo feels.. empty.

His one chance at reaching his goal was snatched away in an instant by outsiders who had no business poking their noses in this. Giratina’s gone- which is his own fault, he had lashed out at them unfairly.

And to top it all off, all his Pokémon were hurt pretty badly in that fight. They had been outnumbered and outmatched, and by the time Volo had the chance to pull his Pokémon out of that fight, they had already given all the fight they had.

He hadn’t made it out unscathed, either. Apparently, Cheri is a zoroark, and he’s also blessed by Arceus, which explains a LOT.

So Volo has a huge set of gashes in his arm that he’s only just managed to wrap tightly enough to stop the bleeding, he’s light headed and he’s almost fallen over a few times in the trek down the mountain, his Pokémon are all hurt pretty badly, and they don’t have a place to stay.

He doesn’t want to go to Cogita. She’s been getting worse as time goes on, and he’s already feeling terrible enough without her quips about.. well..

His entire existence, really.

But he’s sure everyone will know about what happened by the time he gets down the mountain- the siblings had taken off on various flying Pokémon in three different directions. So that takes out both the clans and town, and the Guild, too, since he’s fairly sure Ginter is in town today and will hear of this.

It’s a good thing he had thought to grab his discarded bag. He can at least find a cave or something of the sort, heal his Pokémon, and then..

And then what? There’s nothing else for him here.

Volo takes a deep breath, pushing through the spots in his vision. I don’t care how long it takes.

It could take decades, or even centuries.

I WILL find a way to make this work.

I just need to do more research.

Clouds are starting to gather, threatening rain, and Volo looks up, frowning. It wouldn’t be good to be caught in this, it’s going to be a cold night and he doesn’t want to get sick.. Well. Better hurry, then.

He finds his way to the nearest clear spot, setting down his bag and getting his tent set up as quickly as he can. He has to take time to rest every few minutes, leaning against the nearest tree and catching his breath.

Gods. I’m so cold..

I’ll have to find a Blissey later..

..There HAS to be a way to fix this, right? I’m beaten, but I’m not dead. Giratina’s gone, but there’s other ways to capture a god. I don’t need Giratina’s help, I don’t need anyone, I-

Toge jumps out of her ball, weakly squeaking, and Volo feels his heart drop as he rushes to her side.

“Hey, precious girl,” he murmurs, gently brushing a few of her disheveled feathers back into place. They’re stained with blood and dark-type energy, and he frowns. “Are you okay?”

Another quiet squeak.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to fix this.” He sighs, getting to work finishing setting up the tent. He ignores how standing is starting to put spots in his vision, he needs to get this done before they all get soaked.

It takes a while, and little drops of rain are starting to fall, but once the tent is up, he helps her limp her way inside, letting the others out of their pokeballs too.

They’re all hurt. Luca’s burnt in a few different places from fire and electricity, and Volo’s going to guess he’s lucky if nothing’s broken, with how savagely the bird Pokémon attacked him. Trouble’s shivering, far too cold for a fire type, the rocks in her mane cracked by water and ice. Shark is covered in shimmering wounds, most left by a sylveon. Dried leaf-like skin is flaking off Nightshade, who is burnt even worse than Luca is- even Spiritomb is flickering. Their keystone is, thankfully, intact, but there’s not much power in their disc.

That’s not even mentioning the scratches and bites covering their bodies.

Arceus, I can understand sending people who could defeat me in battle, but why send such strong opponents? Why so many?

This isn’t just a defeat, it’s cruelty.

Luca and Toge are the only ones awake. Luca stands, taking a moment to catch his balance before staggering to Volo’s side. Volo holds his arms open as the lucario falls into him, and he feels a rush of guilt as he pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” Volo murmurs. “I- I shouldn’t have made you all part of this, I..” He sighs, hiding his face in his free hand. “Gods, I am such a fool. I should have realized those three were sent by Arceus, had Their divine blessing.”

Toge squeaks, pushing her way under his arm and resting there, and Volo sighs, staring at the ground.

I really am a joke in Arceus’s eyes, aren’t I? They didn’t even send an adult to deal with me. They sent children.

Sure, they are good battlers, but even so, they’re still CHILDREN.

Perhaps the fact they were sent was a testament to their strength.

Or maybe it only proves how little Arceus really thinks of me.

Volo starts digging through his bag, pulling out bandages, potions, and revives. Whatever the case, I have more important things to worry about right now. Like making sure my Pokémon survive this.

He starts quickly treating the wounds that need the most immediate attention. He doesn’t have a lot of potions on him, but thankfully, he has enough to fix the majority of the worst damage, and he does that before waking the ones who are still knocked out. Then he gets to work bandaging the rest.

I’m glad I thought to stock up on bandages the last time I got a chance to.

A sudden chill brushes through him, and he unpins his shoulder cape, quickly pulling on his merchant outfit. He might hate the job, but at least the clothes are warm.

It doesn’t help much, but his arms are covered and he’s a little warmer.

He lets out a quiet sigh. “..How are you all doing? Is it cold?”

Most of his Pokémon seem okay now, if maybe a little lightheaded, but Shark and Nightshade are both pretty cold, and they look at him with pleading eyes.

“Right. Here.” Volo holds out their Pokeballs, and the garchomp and roserade hurry to jump in. Tucking those to his chest to hopefully keep them warm, Volo sighs, pulling the other four close.

..I’m going to fix this. We all deserve a better world, and damn what Arceus does, I’m going to find a way to make it.

I’ll find a way to do it if it kills me.

~~~~~

(Edited for Hemlock’s name, nightshade didn’t exist at the time in Japan I think based on my research but hemlock did. Also some formatting fixes.)

[kdramacrybaby]

No but I am actually (and irrationally) upset about this drama right now, so I need to get it out of my system

I don’t even know where to start, but like what the hell was that?

This drama started out so cute and innocent with high school drama and what not, and while it wasn’t my fave drama ever, it was decent enough that I would finish - I even made my predictions all cocky like I had figured this whole drama out only for the drama to turn around and go SIKE BITCH YOU THOUGHT!

For 17 episodes it was a normal, coherent high school drama where we followed the young people through a year or so (maybe more idk but point is that time skips were natural and never felt jarring)

But suddenly they decide to start skipping ahead in time by YEARS - and not just once, sometimes they skipped several times in a single episode THAT IS ONLY 20 MIN LONG! They would show a scene, skip a year or two, show a scene, and then SKIP AHEAD A YEAR MORE! SEVERAL TIMES! What kind of writing is that??

I was actually trying to pay some attention but I could not tell you how, when and where the fuck they ended up in the last episode. Hold old are they? How long did any of this take? What even is time at this point?? Sol-i got long hair… that’s basically it. Suddenly we found ourselves in a melodrama idk how it happened?

If they had set the drama up to be sort of fast-paced and skipping around time (maybe done something where we saw the “now” and would sometimes skip to the high school years to explain how they all met or something) that would have made everything so much more coherent. Like… it felt like two completely different dramas - we went straight from Sol-i’s biggest problem being Heon and his moody ass to a hard cut to the future and her getting assaulted by her mentor and Heon losing a patient in the hospital.

- also speaking of the assault we NEVER HEAR ABOUT IT AGAIN (Jin-hwan does sort of accidentally mention it to Heon once but nothing ever comes of that) like what was the point?

And what was up with the drama loving to abuse Dae-sung? Why was the scene with his grandmother necessary? So we could see him suffer just for fun? She was never mentioned before or after that (I’m pretty sure) SO WHY - also was his “career-ending” shoulder injury suddenly just fine again? Didn’t the doctor say “never swim again”?!

I came home from a long week at work, expecting to finish up this cute little love drama or whatever but my mind is blown at how much they just turned it on it’s head and ruined it.

Can we talk about the kiss scenes too? The first two times we see them actually kiss Sol-i is DRUNK! And neither of those times are they actually together. Does she even remember the first time? How is this okay to put in a drama? Is is just me? HOW IS IT ROMANTIC I DONT UNDERSTAND!?

Heon straight up calls Sol-i a loser to her FACE after she was humiliated in front of the entire school, he never apologizes (that last episode video diary is bullshit and Heon propaganda and I refuse to accept it) and she still forgives him. He gets together with her, makes plans to the US WITHOUT TELLING HER AND THEN JUST EXPECTS HER TO FOLLOW ONLY TO *shocked pikachu* when she RIGHTFULLY DUMPS HIS ASS. And then she goes and marries him… no thanks I hate it.

I’m gonna go watch Sh**ting Stars again… I suddenly miss them a lot…