#i think some kids thought his sincerity was cringe but *i* let myself have fun n now he's one of the teachers i most wanna be like

[rubberbandballqueen]

looking through my 8th grade science notebook n reflecting on that teacher's style and personality, and man, i think i might cry hahaha

[nugnthopkns]

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence. 

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something. 

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place. 

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more. 

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy. 

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain. 

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus. 

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over. 

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at. 

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why. 

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck. 

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste. 

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault. 

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize. 

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals. 

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things. 

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting. 

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person. 

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe. 

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better. 

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water. 

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands. 

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats. 

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program. 

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating. 

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack. 

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you. 

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked. 

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything. 

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home. 

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days. 

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice. 

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs. 

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes. 

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly. 

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight. 

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat. 

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment. 

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode. 

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.” 

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself. 

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase. 

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting. 

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble. 

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.” 

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed. 

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to. 

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home. 

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate. 

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year. 

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters. 

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone. 

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask. 

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat. 

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches. 

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors. 

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates. 

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time. 

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score. 

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended. 

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him. 

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah. 

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel. 

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up. 

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom. 

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair. 

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump. 

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip. 

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps. 

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey. 

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you. 

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake. 

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye. 

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel. 

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you. 

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before. 

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice. 

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves. 

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates. 

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet. 

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone. 

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd. 

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals. 

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features. 

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda. 

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point. 

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

 It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase. 

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him. 

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months. 

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received. 

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper. 

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about. 

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list. 

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship. 

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them. 

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights. 

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.  

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop. 

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.” 

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience. 

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around. 

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door. 

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles. 

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years. 

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut. 

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?” 

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall. 

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?” 

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is. 

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete. 

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly. 

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction. 

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well. 

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much. 

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal. 

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror. 

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger. 

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates. 

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch. 

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city. 

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile. 

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift. 

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible. 

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable. 

“Good morning,” he repeats. 

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities. 

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off. 

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals. 

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine. 

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep. 

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front. 

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly. 

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay. 

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse. 

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.” 

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you. 

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself. 

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms. 

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot. 

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down. 

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help. 

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there. 

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater. 

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain. 

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength. 

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again. 

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink. 

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @boqvistsbabe​ @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice​ if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[aquaticrunner]

Don’t I Know You?

Slytherin!Edmund Pevensie x Slytherin!Reader | Request: hi, could u do an Edmund x reader in which they meet in Narnia but they recognize each other bc they're both Slytherins? ty < 3 | Word count: 1.7K

I smiled and tucked my wand away. Finally I found it. Narnia. I had been hearing stories about this magical land since I was a little kid and I finally found a spell that could take me there. As far as I knew, it had never been done before. I would be the first witch to ever find it. I walked along a sandy beach letting the water wash over my feet. I took a deep breath, feeling the most relaxed I’d ever been. The water was so blue and the trees felt as if they were almost alive. It was beautiful and I couldn’t wait to explore every part of it. 

I wandered further along the shore, loving the feeling of the sand between my toes. As I walked further down, I saw a group of kids. I squinted my eyes, trying to make them out clearly with the sun shining down. As I got even closer, I realized they were shouting. I cautiously got closer, trying to see what all the commotion was. 

They seemed to be arguing about something and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to interrupt. I slowly turned around to leave when I heard someone address me. “Hey! What are you doing?” I cringed, knowing that I’d been caught, and turned back around. I finally took in the appearance of each person in front of me. I saw two young girls and two young boys. They seemed familiar as I looked at them, but I didn’t realize until I looked at the last boy to my right. His hair had gotten longer and he looked more carefree than I had ever seen him, but it was undoubtedly Edmund Pevensie. They had gone to Hogwarts together and were both in Slytherin. 

“Don’t I know you?” He asked me. I narrowed my eyes at him. He doesn’t even remember me?

“What are you doing here?” I asked in return. He looked surprised and then recognition crossed his features. “I do know you! You’re Y/N. You were a Slytherin at Hogwarts. How did you get here?”

“Stop asking me questions! You never answered mine.” I crossed my arms in a show of defiance. The older looking boy stepped forward. “Enough. Seems to me we’re all wizards. We got here because Aslan called us. Now how did you get here?”

Y/N sighed. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get here since I was little. I finally figured out the right spell to find this magical land. I didn’t know anyone else had ever found Narnia before. Who’s Aslan?”

“You have a lot to learn.” Said the younger girl. They led me to an old castle where they had been staying. There, they explained everything about Aslan and the White Witch. I found out the rest of their names were Peter, Lucy, and Susan. After they had explained everything, I sat in silence for a minute before speaking up.

“Wow, you guys went through all that as kids?” I asked. They nodded and I bit my lip. “So what are you doing back here now?”

“Well, we’re here to help defeat the Telmarines. They’ve taken over Narnia and we have to stop them.” I smiled at them, “How can I help?”

I walked alongside Edmund in silence as we followed Peter and Trumpkin to where we heard an army was being built. I cleared my throat and Edmund rolled his eyes at me. I looked at him in annoyance, “Do you have a problem with me?” 

“No.” His short response only annoyed me more. “Really?” I asked, “Because it seems to me that you’re not particularly happy that I’m here.”

“Why would I be?” He walked ahead of me and I stood behind for a moment. I couldn’t figure out why he was so upset with me. We barely had any interactions when we went to Hogwarts together aside from running into each other in the common room or having some friends in common. I sighed and kept walking. I didn’t want to get left behind. “So why are we walking all this way instead of just using magic?” I asked no one in particular. 

Susan glanced back at me while she walked. “Magic doesn’t work the same here in Narnia. And with the Telmarines suppressing that magic for years, it’s become weaker.”

It became silent once more and I nodded in understanding. The silence persisted until we heard shouts coming from the trees. Soldiers in army came out of the trees, swords pointed at us. I immediately pulled out my wand and tried to cast a protective spell but nothing happened. Susan was right, magic worked differently here. The Pevensies and Trumpkin immediately started fighting, using practiced skill. I looked down at my now useless wand. Well, what do I do now?

One of the soldiers noticed me and walked menacingly towards me. “Wait, I’m not from here so don’t-” He lunged at me and I jumped back, nearly dropping my wand. I looked around for anything to defend myself with- a large stick or a rock- but I found nothing. He got closer until suddenly Edmund jumped in front of me pushing the soldier back with a sword. He cut him in the side and the man dropped in pain. Edmund hit him over the head, effectively knocking him out. 

“Thanks,” I said and he turned back around to face me. “Here’s a knife, try not to get killed.” I took the knife hesitantly but Edmund didn’t wait to see what I would do next. He jumped right back into the fight and I watched as him and his siblings quickly beat the soldiers.

The soldiers that didn’t get knocked out ran off and the others, Peter tied to a nearby tree. We ransacked their supplies and left, hoping no one would follow us. I found myself walking Edmund once again. “Thanks again for helping me.”

Edmund sighed. “It wasn’t a big deal.” I shrugged. “Well, it was to me.” I glanced at him and spoke up once more. “So, I have to know why you don’t like me.”

Edmund groaned. “Do you ever stop talking?” I laughed. “Nope. So you might as well just answer me.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Fine. It’s not that I don’t like you, I just don’t trust you.” “What? Why not, we were in the same house!” “Exactly.”

I stopped talking for a moment, taking in Edmund’s words. He spoke again and my head whipped in his direction. “I heard you in the common room talking about Narnia. You were obsessed. And now that you’re here, what are you going to tell people when we get back? Everyone will want to come here and it’ll be ruined. That’s what people do with good things.”

For once, I had nothing else to say. It was starting to get dark and Peter stopped walking. “We can sleep here for the night. Ed, go get some firewood.”

Edmund nodded and I made a quick decision to follow him. “Are you ever going to leave me alone?” “Not until I’m satisfied.” “And how can I possibly do that?” “Sit down and talk to me for a moment,” I said. Edmund considered it, and then seemed to realize that I wasn’t letting this go. “Fine.” Edmund sat on a tree stump and I sat down next to him. 

I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I have been looking for Narnia for a long time. But not because I want to exploit it.” Edmund looked at me curiously and I continued. “I’ve been dreaming of this place since I was a kid. The magic and the adventure. I always thought it sounded so much better than where I was, at least until I got to Hogwarts. Even then I just wanted to see it at least once.”

Edmund looked at me. “So you won’t tell anyone?”

I smiled at him. “I won’t tell anyone. I’m just happy with the satisfaction of being the first witch to ever find it. Well, except you but I came up with the spell on my own.”

He laughed for the first time and I was shocked at how nice it was. For the first time that day, I took the time to really look at him. He was undeniably attractive. His hair had a light curl to it from the humidity in the air and the early night stars seemed to be reflecting in his eyes. 

He looked down at his hands and then back at me. “I may have misjudged you.” I smiled at him. “You did, but that’s okay. You can make it up to me.”

His eyes twinkled mischievously. “And how can I do that?” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

I leaned back, but before I could turn, Edmund placed his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my forward. Our lips met and I instinctively pulled him closer as we kissed, craving the heat that was coming from his embrace. We kissed until we were out of breath and I pulled away slowly, not wanting the moment to end. I leaned my forehead against his and whispered as if this were something fragile. “What was that for?” He smiled. “Just making it up to you.” I laughed as he repeated my words back to me. “Well, keep kissing me like that and I’ll forgive you in no time.”

Edmund smiled. “Well, it’ll have to be later. We need to get the firewood, remember?” I groaned. “This would be so much easier if my wand was working.” 

“Don’t worry, you get used to it. Narnian magic is something different, but it’s just as wonderful. I promise.” I looked at Edmund as he said that with such sincerity. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

We spent the next few minutes gathering up firewood and then went back to the others. The rest of the night, I talked and laughed with the Pevensies and their friend just having fun. I shared small smiles with Edmund throughout the night every time we made eye contact or our hands brushed. I never would’ve thought that when I finally found Narnia I would also find Edmund Pevensie, a Slytherin boy who I barely knew. I couldn’t wait to get to know him now and explore Narnia with him.

[asthmark]

❝ let’s dance ❞ s.jh

synopsis → “i’m gonna marry you.”

request → “How about Johnny fluff partying time and the concept theme is the 80s” — @heart-bleeding-autism-angel​

word count → 2.5k

a/n → the amount of googling i did for this is scary .. and i still know literally nothing abt the 80’s LOL anyway the title is my fav david bowie song that happened to be released in ‘83 and it kind of fits the the fic so,,, cool :-)

the moonlight shines through your window, casting it’s heavenly glow on your face. despite the late hour, it illuminates your entire room enough that you can read the time off the clock hanging on your wall.

11:55 p.m.

if they decide to be on time, your friends should be arriving in five minutes.

you retreat from your windowsill to prepare yourself. you stop in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothing. it takes you a couple moments to pick something you liked. you, of course, wanted to impress johnny, the self proclaimed fashion evaluator, but there was no better feeling than knowing you looked good.

you settle on a cozy turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. then you pull on a pair of tube socks and slip on your prized white sneakers. for the final touch, you slide on a thin buckle belt through the loops of your skirt to tie it all together.

you smile satisfactorily at your reflection in the mirror and what was sure to be your best outfit yet. besides being well-put together, it felt comfortable enough to move around in and you knew you would surely be doing much moving that night.

once the clock strikes midnight, you notice  light flash into your room. since it’s brighter than that of the moon, you know exactly who must be behind it. even if you didn’t, the hushed chatter and giggling from outside your window gives it away. you peer down into your backyard to find sicheng and jaehyun standing there, flashlights in hand and aimed directly into your bedroom.

you hastily wave your hands at them, your face twisted with worry. they wave back at you with goofy smiles on their faces, oblivious to your concern.

“cut the lights!” you hiss as silently as you can.

they finally seem to get the hint and click them off. jaehyun shouts back, “sorry!” accompanied by a laugh sicheng has failed to contain. you wince at their volume. there was no keeping them quiet so you decide your only option is to move as fast as you possibly can.

you carefully push one leg out of your window. it dangles above the roof of the front porch and you slowly lower it onto the tile. once you’ve successfully planted half of yourself on the roof, you bring your other leg down. this action is followed by a slight creek but you don’t even bother hesitating. you crouch down to the edge of the house and repeat the previous steps, this time landing on the front steps of your porch.

“that was smooth!” jaehyun exclaims in awe.

you bring a finger to your lips but still can’t help but smile at the praise.

“you’re like a ninja,” adds sicheng. “or a cat.” he pauses, deep in thought, before concluding, “you’re a ninja cat.”

you raise a brow. “you’ve both been drinking, haven't you?”

“no.”

“yes.”

“i’m gonna have to believe jae on this one,” you say, observing the way sicheng’s eyelids droop and he slurs his words. “you couldn’t have waited ‘til we got to the club?”

he whines like a child. “i was thirsty!”

you clamp your hand over his mouth and scold him. “why do you feel the need to be so loud? do you want me to get caught?”

jaehyun hiccups. “aren’t you glad i’m an introvert? i’ll never get you in trouble.”

you laugh dryly. “sure, you’re all introverted until you find some random chick to grind on.”

he pouts. “let me have fun.”

“it’s fun until you spill your drink on her and i have to help clean—oh come on, sicheng, did you just lick me?” you remove your hand from his mouth only to find a big smile on his lips.

“perhaps.”

“god, let’s just go. where’s johnny parked?”  

“end of the street.”

you go in said direction with your two friends trailing behind you, messing around all the while. the three of you only stop when you catch sight of johnny’s shiny black convertible. you approach the vehicle and when he notices you, he smiles and shoots you a wink.

“you’re such a flirt,” you comment, opening the door to the passenger's seat.  

he shrugs. “but you still fell in love with me so i’d say it’s worked out pretty well up until this point.”

you’re about to respond when jaehyun interrupts. “hey, i wanted to ride shotgun!”

“me too!” agrees sicheng. “y/n always gets it!”

johnny glares at the pair through the rear view mirror. “and that’s how i like it so get in the backseat or you’re walking.”

they mumble what you assume are complaints yet still get in the car.

johnny revs up the engine but before you go anywhere he makes an announcement. “and if either of you are going to vomit again, all i ask is that you don’t do it in here. my dad just bought me this bad boy.”

a chuckle escapes your lips.

“what are you laughing about over there?”

you lean back against the headrest, smile still present. “we literally have two kids.”

“basically. but hey, there’s no one else i’d rather babysit two grown men with than you.”

“stop, i’m blushing,” you deadpan.

johnny’s shoulders shake with laughter at your sarcasm. “seriously, though! you really know how to take care of someone. one day, if i’m lucky enough, i’ll be able to see that up close.”

you know exactly what he means by that last statement—he was thinking of a future with you. the last thing you want to do is burst his bubble but you knew how your parents felt about your relationship. they thought you could do better than ‘some football player from your school’. they had friends with young, stuck up sons who, according to them, were more fit for you. despite being told countless times how happy johnny made you, they paid you no mind.

you nod, sincerely. “i hope so.”

he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin. you stay like that for the entire drive.

once you finally reach your destination, you leave all doubt and anxiety surrounding your relationship with johnny in the car along with any other negativity. the flashing lights and loud music you could hear even from outside the club excites you and you’re left with no choice but to discard all of your worries. you never got tired of seeing the glowing, neon sign letting you know that you had arrived at the hottest hang out spot there was—the neo zone.

as soon as you step inside, sicheng’s face contorts in displeasure. “i’m, uh, going to the bathroom.” he carelessly pushes past strangers, clutching his stomach.

you notice jaehyun has disappeared as well. before you can ask, you spot him on the dance floor, inserting himself in some line dance he obviously isn’t familiar with. his limbs move awkwardly and completely out of sync with the rest of the group. he recieves multiple strange looks and you can’t help but cringe.

“where did we go wrong with them?”

johnny’s laugh can hardly be heard over the booming bass of a song. “couldn’t tell you that, sugar. let’s just hope the next ones come out better.”

there he goes again, talking about your oh-so-promising future. you were still unsure if you would be able to grant johnny the picture perfect life he constantly spoke about. whenever he referenced it, you felt slightly guilty.

instead of acknowledging his comment, you glance around, looking anywhere but him. “want to get a drink?”

he simply nods, placing his hand in the small of your back as you weave your way through the crowd to the bar.

he leans on the counter and orders, “one long island iced tea, please.”

“you know my order?” you ask, pleasantly surprised.

“sweetheart, you get it everytime we come here. and that’s often.”

you still beam at him. “it’s still nice. you know, that you notice those things.”

“everything about you is worth noticing. besides, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

you press a quick kiss to his cheek to show him how grateful you are.

“you really have to work on your aim because you completely missed your target that time.” he teasingly taps his lips.

you roll your eyes with a giggle. “never satisfied, are you, suh?”

“you owe me, just sayin’.”

“oh yeah?”

“totally! i let you sit shotgun!”

“i was the only thing standing in the way of sicheng throwing up all over your dashboard, you should be thanking me!”

johnny presses a kiss to your lips. it’s so unexpected yet enjoyable that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut in bliss. he only pulls away to take a breath of air.

he licks his lips. “how was that?”

you brush imaginary dust off your skirt. “probably the best ‘thank you’ i’ve ever received.”

“says you. i can't get enough of those lips of yours.”

you fiddle with your belt. “nobody's stopping you from getting your fill.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, young lady.”

seconds later, the bartender slides you your drink. “here’s your drink, young lady.” he gives johnny a knowing smile and not-so-subtle thumbs up. “what a pretty little thing you got there.”

you know his words aren’t meant for your ears so you avert your eyes and take small sips of your drink.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t agree more.”

“you know, me and my wife met in this club. just like you two.”

“we’ve actually known each other for a couple years.”

the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “well, look at you. already ahead of the game. you love her?”

johnny doesn’t hesitate to nod. “very much. the only issue is her folks don’t seem to be too crazy about me. they have a long list of suitors, myself excluded.”

you frown and trace the rim of your glass. that never got any easier for you to hear.  

the man nods, understandingly. “i see. well, in that case, you might have to wait. you said you love her and until you get to be together—which you will—keep loving her. that’ll make the time you spend waiting go by like this.” he snaps his fingers to prove his point.

johnny nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “i appreciate the advice. thank you.”

the bartender gives him a curt nod and goes back to tending to the other demanding customers.

before johnny gets a chance to say anything, you ask, “do you wanna dance with me?”

his grin widens. “always.”

you take his hand in yours and lead him to the dance floor. it’s full, as always, multiple bodies pressed up against each other. you waste no time joining in.

your hands end up on his broad shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck and his grip ends up on your hips. the songs played at club neo zone always had a strong bass and energetic vibe so you both match that rhythm, moving to the intense heartbeat of the music. you gaze up at johnny, admiring his good looks even under the glow of the disco lights that colored him shades of bright pink, blue and green.

“what are you looking at, pretty girl?”

“just your face. i like it.”

he hums. “mm, i’m glad. i do too.”

“like my face?”

“no, mine.”

you shove his shoulder, playfully.

he chuckles. “you know i’m joking. you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

you suddenly find your shoes to be very interesting and stare down at them, smiling sheepishly.

“c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now.”

you giggle. “quit it.”

he glides his hands up and down your sides. “i’m serious, darling. it must’ve taken all my luck to get you.”

“i could say the same thing. there’s no one i’d rather be with than you, john.”

his dimples appear at the compliment and he goes in for a bear-like hug. he cradles your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head as both you sway.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

you’re not sure what about this statement catches you most off guard. maybe it’s the way that there’s no teasing tone in his voice or perhaps the fact that he has decided to say this in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

you catch your lower lip in between your teeth. “i’m sorry we have to wait.”

“i’ll wait forever, babygirl, if that’s what it takes. and so what if your parents don’t want that. if one day you’ll let me wake up next to you and have a family with you, i’ll be happy.”

you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his sweet words. “i can't wait.”

with the hope of a future together, you and johnny happily dance the rest of the night away. once the party dies down and the crowd shrinks with every song that passes, your bodies are left sweaty and tired. you agree it’s time to go home.

you spot jaehyun in the back of the club and it takes a lot of effort to drag him off his latest girl interest. he blows her kisses as you yank him away, promising her a phone call in the morning. you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

sicheng is found passed out in the restroom, snoring heavily.

“has he been here this whole time?” you ask with a grunt as you attempt to hoist him up.

johnny shrugs as he helps you lift. “i find it's better to not ask questions.”

you nod in agreement. “fair.”

the car ride is silent mostly thanks to sicheng being knocked out. jaehyun sits quietly as well, staring out the window. johnny decides to drop them off first. you stop in front of the jung residence. as you watch the brunette struggle to open the door with one hand and hold sicheng’s unconscious figure in the other, you can’t help but wonder, “is it really a good idea to leave him with jae? i mean, that’s like telling a toddler to look after an infant.”

“if i left him at his house i’m pretty sure his old man would ground him for the rest of his life. jae’s folks are always out of town.”

with that reassurance, you drive off, your next destination being your house. johnny parks exactly where he did at the beginning of the night, just to be safe.

he rests his hands on the steering wheel. “want me to walk you?”

you shake your head. “that’s alright. if i get caught, i’d rather it not be with you. i’d never hear the end of it.”

“yeah, i get it. one day, though, we won’t have to worry about it.” as if to promise you his words are true, he hands you his letterman jacket. it was his prized possession and he was never seen without it. “here, take this. wear it when i can't be with you.”

you nod, clutching the clothing item close to your chest. “i will.”

he leans over as far as his seatbelt allows him to give you the last kiss of the night. it ends too fast for the both of you. you exit his car and walk down the sidewalk towards your house.

johnny watches you through his rear view mirror and smiles to himself when he catches you pull on his jacket.

[hyunllx]

The Christmas Baker

A Hyunlix Hallmark Fic Chapter 1/5 wc: 4k Hwang Hyunjin is a rich, cocky, famous dancer that prefers to keep to himself during the holidays. When his roommate drags him along to visit his hometown, however, Hyunjin meets a boy who helps him believe in the spirit of the season. Primarily Hyunjin’s pov with Felix’s pov added in occasionally. series warnings: Extremely cliche. You will probably cringe at some points but its okay. chapter warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol. note: This fic is not meant to accurately reflect or portray the members of SKZ. This is just for fun. Next Chapter

--------------------&--------------------

    A deep pounding in the temples roused Hyunjin from his sleep, a groan escaping him as he tried to sit up, his head spinning. He remembered he’d crashed on the couch again in the middle of the night after coming home from another company party. As usual, he’d had too much to drink and couldn’t make it all the way to his bedroom to undress or sleep properly. Now his neck and shoulders hurt from the uncomfortable couch and he felt like he needed a year long hot shower.

  The smell of cooking registered in his nose, turning his stomach but waking him up a little more. He could hear the soft voice of his room mate and best friend, Chan, chiming from the kitchen, singing along to a christmas song he couldn’t quite make out.

  Chan emerged from the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl, grinning wide as he noticed Hyunjin up and somewhat alert,

  “Hey sleepyhead, you’re finally awake.” His voice was high and babyish as he approached the couch.

  Hyunjin groaned again. No matter how close they were, he was still embarrassed whenever Chan pulled out his cute charms around him. Lacking the energy to complain so soon after waking up, he just took the bowl from Chan and brought it to his lips without a word. Despite expecting the taste of Chan’s famous hangover soup, Hyunjin still recoiled as the spices burned his tongue and throat. He coughed sharply, earning a pat on the head from his friend,

  “That’ll wake you up for sure.”

  “What’s that?” Hyunjin pointed to the luggage piled next to their apartment’s front door, distracting himself as he took another scalding sip of the soup broth. Chan tilted his head like a confused puppy, frowning,

  “I’m leaving to stay with my brother for break, remember?”

  “That’s today?”

  “Of course. Christmas is only four days away you know.” He didn’t know, but Hyunjin didn’t want to say that out loud. People were always either appalled that he didn’t celebrate the holidays or they pitied him. In reality he never got to celebrate like others did when his parents were busy with holiday music events and parties. He was used to being alone this time of year. Still, he couldn’t help eye the stack of bags with jealousy. The thought of waking up on christmas morning without his best friend was not something he looked forward to.

  Chan noticed the way his eyes kept flicking toward the door,

  “Are you sure I can leave you alone for so long?”

  Hyunjin scoffed, “What do you mean? I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”

  “Getting drunk every night until Christmas is not taking care of yourself, Hyunnie.” Hyunjin grimaced at the nickname. Chan only used it when he was sincerely worried about him, and Hyunjin didn’t want to have this serious of a conversation when he’d be leaving right after. He focused on finishing his breakfast instead, skin burning where Chan was watching him.

  “Why don’t you come with me?”

  Hyunjin choked as he inhaled broth in shock at the proposition,

  “Excuse me?” He managed between coughs.

  “I mean it. I don’t want you to be here by yourself.”

  The witty come back on Hyunjin’s tongue burned away when he met Chan’s sad eyes. Truthfully, he didn’t want to be here alone either, but the thought of staying in a stranger’s house in a strange town was equally unappealing. 

  “I know my brother won’t mind. He loves company, and we’ll make room for you.”

  “I’m not going to win this fight, am I?” Hyunjin sighed, defeated.

  “Nope!” Chan grinned and dragged him into a one-sided hug, “I’ll help you pack once you wake up.”

  It didn't take long for Hyunjin to shower and collect his things. Though what he owned was luxurious and expensive, he didn't own much of anything. His clothes for the trip took up a rolling suitcase and everything else fit neatly in his shoulder bag. How Chan managed to fill three duffle bags, a laptop case, and his backpack, Hyunjin would never know. Still, between the two of them packing up Chan’s car, they managed to get on the road by the time he’d wanted to leave. 

  “Do you mind if I call him to let him know we’re coming?” Chan asked, fiddling with his dashboard to connect the car to his phone.

  Hyunjin shrugged, putting in his ear buds to respect the privacy of their conversation. Even with his volume turned, though, the reverberating bass of the deepest “Hello?” he’d ever heard cut through to his ears. 

  Hyunjin had never seen Chan’s brother, but he couldn’t imagine the person that voice must be coming from. His eyes widened as he listened to them talk,

  “I’m on my way over now!” Chan said, flashing Hyunjin a bright smile when he noticed his friend’s face, “Hey, I’m sorry for not asking earlier but my roommate didn’t have a place to celebrate Christmas, so is it alright I brought him along?”

  “Of course, of course!” His brother responded, his voice lightening only slightly with warmth, “I’ll get the guest room ready. Will he be coming to the party?”

  Hyunjin sat up straighter at the mention of a party, looking toward Chan, who only rolled his eyes,

  “Yeah, I think it’ll be good for him to go.”

  “Sweet! I’ll see you guys when you get here.”

  “Love you, Lix.”

  “Love you too!”

  “Party?” Hyunjin asked curiously as soon as they hung up the call, “I thought you wanted me to stay away from parties.”

  “It’s not the kind of party you’re thinking of.” Chan shook his head, a laugh hiding behind his lips, “It’s a celebration on Christmas Eve. Everyone comes together for free food and gifts.”

  “Sounds boring.” As long as there’s liquor for the adults, he thought to himself. He knew he’d need it to get through that kind of Christmas cheer. Chan only hummed in response, turning on the radio. It didn’t take long for him to start singing along to the holiday music, definitely not helping Hyunjin’s mood, even with his own music playing through his headphones.

  It took a couple songs passing without him registering the music for Hyunjin to realize he was still thinking about the voice on the other end of the car speakers. So warm yet so deep and mysterious at the same time. Chan talked often with pride about his younger brother, but Hyunjin had never taken the time to envision what the boy was actually like. In his head he was just a younger Chan. Clearly not with that voice. If he’d heard someone speak like that in a club or at a venue, he’d be flirting with them in an instant.

  After an hour of passive contemplation and at least ten plays of Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You, Hyunjin finally pulled out his ear buds and turned down the radio. Chan turned to look at him mid-lyric,

  "What's wrong?"

  "Tell me more about your brother." Chan opened his mouth to gush like usual but paused, looking at him curiously,

  "You've never asked about him before."

  "It would be rude to show up at his house and not know anything about him."

  “I talk about him all the time?”

  “I don’t listen.” He lied.

  Chan rolled his eyes, “Well… his name is Felix. He’s the same age as you are, 6 months younger. I basically raised him when we were kids because our parents were gone all the time. He owns and works at a little bakery in town-”

  “He’s a baker?” Now Hyunjin was really confused. 

  “The BEST baker!” Chan corrected, a little over-excited, “Seriously, all your stress will melt away the second you taste his brownies. He’s also a great cook, of course. And he’s a dancer, like you!”

  Hyunjin couldn’t figure this boy out. Every detail Chan shared over the following half hour was like gaining a new jigsaw piece that belonged to a completely different puzzle. “Felix” was a baker at heart with a passion for singing and dancing. Somehow he’d never followed in his elder brother’s footsteps despite being a gifted musician. By the time he was done listening, he both regretted asking and was unimaginably curious. All because of that stupidly deep voice on the other end of the call. 

  They drove from late morning until sunset, the city passing by them giving way to towns and eventually just an expanse of highway and trees. Occasionally an off-ramp would lead to some semblance of civilization beyond the humming of the cars around them, otherwise there was nothing this far out of the city. Clouds on the horizon turned deep red and purple as Chan finally took an exit, a storm in the distance squeezing the last drops of golden light from the sun before it set.

  They took several winding turns through the trees until the sun disappeared behind them and lights flared up around the car. Hyunjin stared in amazement as the trees lining the main road held strings of christmas lights in their branches, leading them straight to the town’s center. Though he would never admit it out loud, Hyunjin thought they were beautiful. 

  The entire town was decorated as though they had just entered the north pole. Every light pole held an oversized wreath, every tree strung with lights, every hovel and storefront decorated as if they wanted to see their tiny town from space. Hyunjin was dumbstruck; he was used to this kind of sight in big cities. It was to draw tourists and commerce for the big stores and the attractions. But here, this tiny town had none of that. They did this for the joy of it. How anyone could be in love with this holiday in such a way, he did not know. He was so lost in wonder he didn’t even notice they’d stopped until Chan turned the car off and the radio stopped playing, snapping Hyunjin’s attention back to reality.

  They’d pulled up to the small driveway of an equally small house. It was two stories tall, but only wide enough to fit the front door and a window on the first story. Thin trails of smoke rose from the back of the house, and a porch enclosed the entrance, orange light spilling out onto the wooden steps from the door’s frosted glass window.

  Shivers ripped through Hyunjin as he stepped out of the car, his breath swirling around him in a puff of steam. The temperature had dropped below freezing already, the cold eating away the nerves that started bubbling in Hyunjin’s stomach. The house in front of him looked cozy and warm and he just wanted to get inside.

  “Come on!” Chan grinned, motioning for Hyunjin to follow as he nearly sprinted up the stairs. The door was unlocked for them, and he shuffled after his friend into the heat of the home. He rubbed his hands together as he stood over the humming radiator of the entryway, taking in the overwhelming sensory experience of the home. Other than the warmth, the first thing to hit Hyunjin was the smell of food cooking somewhere deeper in the house, making his stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten much more than a few snacks since his breakfast soup. 

  Secondly, everything was covered in christmas decorations. Everything. The walls, the stairs to the second floor, the doors, the dining room to their left. Even the crown molding lining the ceiling of the old house. The warm orange light he’d seen from outside was emitted by dozens if not hundreds of little warm-white bulbs. It was as if Santa Claus himself lived there.

  “We’re here!” Chan called out, waddling into the hallway with Hyunjin right behind. A half-laugh half-yell of excitement burst from what Hyunjin assumed was the kitchen, startling him. Yet the human that emerged from the doorway was the most shocking part.

  The boy was just a tiny bit shorter than Chan, and petite enough to be swimming in his oversized sweater and apron. His hair was a shade more platinum than Hyunjin's own blonde, his skin a soft russet with splashes of dark freckles across his nose and cheeks.

  "Hyung!" He exclaimed in a high-pitched voice as he ran into Chan's outstretched arms. Certainly this wasn't the same boy that spoke over the car speakers.

  "You must be Hyunjin!" His deep voice returned as he pulled away from his brother, beaming up at Hyunjin with the world's brightest grin, "It's nice to meet you!"

  "Nice to meet you t-" Hyunjin had extended a hand for a handshake but Felix quickly ignored it, pulling him into a sudden hug. Hyunjin stiffened at the informality, entirely unprepared to meet someone that was even more physically affectionate than Chan. He could see the family resemblance. 

  “Don’t be nervous,” Felix tried to soothe him, patting his back before pulling away, “You’re hyung’s friend, so this is your home too.”

  Hyunjin couldn’t respond, his brain was short-circuiting from the physical affection and the deep voice and all the lights. All he could process was Chan trying desperately yet failing to suppress a laugh in his direction. Thankfully, an obnoxious beeping from the kitchen saved him from having to formulate a response.

  “Ah! Dinner’s ready, you guys made it just in time!” He scurried off to fetch the food, bouncing along with excitement as he ran like a child.

  “You alright?” Chan chuckled, smacking Hyunjin between the shoulderblades to grab his attention.

  “What have you dragged me into?” He whispered, hoping his host wouldn’t hear.

  “Come on Hyunjin, I know you guys are going to end up getting along just fine.” Chan winked at him, which Hyunjin thought was odd, but at this point everything around him was twisted backwards and upside down so he didn’t think much more of it. 

  They hung up their jackets and Chan led him into the dining room where Felix was setting out three large bowls of rice next to three bowls of the most delicious smelling kimchi stew Hyunjin had ever seen. The chandelier that hung over the small table was turned off, the room illuminated instead by the vibrant white glow of the christmas tree in the corner of the room. Felix’s smile as they entered was just as bright; Hyunjin felt he couldn’t look too long or else he’d get lost in it. Instead he turned to Chan as he took a seat next to him, watching his friend’s nose scrunch up at the thought of a spicy meal.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not very spicy.” Felix assured, reading Hyunjin’s exact train of thought. Of course he’d know Chan couldn’t handle spicy food. He couldn’t even eat the hangover soup he made Hyunjin in the mornings. 

  “Thank God.” Chan nodded with relief, “Shall we eat? I’m starving.”

  “Of course, please help yourselves.” Felix said as he took a seat across from Hyunjin at the table, still smiling. Hyunjin still couldn’t look at him, his heart skipping at the sight of his grin. Instead, he dug into his stew. 

  An involuntary groan rumbled in his throat at the flavor, his body warming instantly as he slowed to savor the taste. Not that he’d had many home cooked meals in his life, but Hyunjin couldn’t help but think it was the best tasting meal he’d ever had.

  When he came back up from his bowl, Hyunjin froze under the stares of both Chan and Felix. They looked at him eagerly, leaning in as if waiting for him to speak.

  “Uh…” He struggled to find words as he swallowed a mouthful of beef, “It’s really good.”

  Felix let out a sigh of relief then a loud, sudden laugh. His grin swallowed his face again as he picked up his chopsticks,

  “Good! I was worried whether or not you’d like it.”

  The comment came off so casual that it left Hyunjin’s ears burning with embarrassment. Why did he care what Hyunjin thought about his food? They were strangers. Yet the longer he lingered in this house the more it felt familiar. Like he was visiting a beloved family member after years apart. He shook off the feeling. 

  He’s a stranger. Hyunjin reminded himself.

  “Is Seungmin still working at the bakery after moving out?” Chan asked when Hyunjin’s senses were ready to return to the conversation.

  “Yeah, but I gave him the week off.” Felix waved his hand dismissively, though a smirk lingered on his lips, “He deserves to spend as much time as he can with Minho.”

  “They’re back together?”

  “Do they ever really break up?” Both brothers laughed in agreement, nodding vigorously. Hyunjin was lost in the conversation, so he just sat and smiled awkwardly. Chan giggled teasingly as he continued, 

  “What about you? Is there a special boy I should meet while I’m here?”

  Hyunjin and Felix immediately locked eyes at the question. Felix’s face grew tomato-red, and the intense fire in his ears told Hyunjin they looked much the same. His head reeled as he realized that’s why Chan was never awkward whenever he came home to find Hyunjin with a boy, or why they never had the talk about it after. 

  “Uh.. No- no. I’m not seeing anyone.” Felix stuttered, stuffing his mouth with rice so he wouldn’t have to keep talking. Hyunjin felt sorry for him as the boy’s sunny smile vanished. He could sense Felix’s anxiety at being outed to a stranger. Even if he’d welcomed Hyunjin with open arms, this was a different level of personal information. He tried to catch Felix’s eye again but the boy was too focused on his food. Hyunjin cleared his throat instead,

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping to meet a cute boy while we were here.”

  Felix perked up a little at that, a smile entertaining the corners of his lips while he chewed. They finished their dinner in mostly silence, the sweet hum of christmas music filtering into the room via the kitchen. Though he knew he’d regret it when he returned to the dance studio after break, Hyunjin ate until he was completely full, letting himself indulge in the delicious food just this once.

  “So… just you in the bakery tomorrow?” Chan asked as they all leaned back in their chairs, finished and satisfied.

  “Yep!” Felix smiled and nodded as he stood to gather the empty dishes from the table, “I’m only aiming for 1000 this year so the two days should be plenty of time. As long as you’ll help?”

  “Of course! What are brothers for?”

  “1000 what?” Hyunjin looked between them, confused and apprehensive about being in a stranger’s home by himself.

  “Cookies! For the Christmas Eve Party. You’re welcome to come help too if you want.”

  Hyunjin screwed up his face at the idea; he was NOT a good cook, or baker. Hence his lack of experience with home-cooked meals, “I think I’ll just take the day to look around town.”

  “Well you’re welcome to stop by. It’ll just be us in there.” Was that disappointment in his deep voice? Hyunjin shook his head at the thought. While he certainly had a reputation for being cocky, he wasn’t typically this full of himself. There was no reason for this boy he’d just met to have such an impact on his emotions. Felix didn’t care about him or what he did. They didn’t know each other. Hyunjin was only here because of Chan. 

  “I’m going to start unloading the car.” He said, already heading for the front door. He needed to clear his head. The cold night air would help.

--------------------Felix--------------------

    “Is that everything?” Felix asked as he helped his brother tuck the last of the gifts he’d brought under the giant tree in his living room. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and he had to restrain himself from shaking the boxes whenever he glimpsed his name written on the tag.

  “Yep!” Chan smiled just as wide, pretending to dust off his hands, “Just have to unpack my clothes and stuff.”

  “Do you want help?”

  “Nah. I’ll be back down in a bit.” He scratched his fingers in Felix’s hair as he stood, making the younger boy giggle. Felix hadn’t realized how much he had missed his hyung; Chan was gone to the big city to chase his dreams and rarely got a break to come home. Whenever he visited, it felt like Felix’s heart was whole again. 

  As he stood up from his spot in front of the tree, Felix’s mind wandered from his brother to the stranger upstairs, Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin. 

  Being a dancer himself, Felix was familiar with the dancers that Chan worked with, spending hours memorizing their routines. The fact that Hyunjin was here in his home made nervous, star-struck butterflies flutter in his stomach. Even despite his cold demeanor.

  Felix could tell it was an act; the mask had slipped when Hyunjin rescued him from Chan accidentally outing that he liked boys in front of a stranger. It slipped in the way Hyunjin looked to Chan like a brother, for comfort and reassurance. There was a kind person underneath all that ice. He’d warm up once they got to know each other, Felix was sure of it.

  “I’ll go check on him, I think.” He mumbled to himself as he checked his pulse, a nervous tick he’d had since he was a child. He stopped to grab a pillow and blankets from the closet under the stairs, just in case his guest needed an extra one, before heading up.

  The door to the guest bedroom was ajar so Felix opened it with a nudge of his foot. He found Hyunjin standing in the middle of the room, vigorously texting on his phone. His long, golden hair hung loose, free from the ponytail he’d had it in before. His plump bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. It was the first time Felix really recognized how breath-takingly beautiful the man was in person.

  When he noticed light spilling into the room from the hall, Hyunjin looked up from his phone, startled as though Felix had caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. Frowning, he paused in the doorway,

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Y-yeah. Sorry, you just surprised me.” Hyunjin spoke as if finding his breath again, his ears turning pink again like they had been at dinner.

  “Um… Is there anything you need? Like another blanket or something?” Felix shuffled his feet awkwardly. The star-struck butterflies were back in full-force and he was sure he looked just as embarrassed as Hyunjin himself did.

  “No thank you, I’m alright.” An awkward pause, “Hey… is that offer to help at the bakery still open?” 

  Felix’s heart flipped up into his throat,

  “Yeah of course! You… you changed your mind?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be seeing much of the town.” He stepped back and pointed to the small window. Half an inch of snow already clung to the outer windowsill while large, heavy flakes sparkling in the lights lining the house dove through the air. The storm that had been threatening the sky all day finally arrived. 

  “Oh that’s alright,” Felix grinned at the sight, excitement mingling with his nervousness making him bounce on his toes, “We’ll have a white christmas at least! You’re welcome to join me and Chan any time.”

  “Thank you.” Hyunjin bowed slightly, still being awkward, “Um… good night.”

  “Good night, Hyunjin.” Before he could see his reaction, Felix stepped back and shut the door. His heart raced and he had to take a moment to catch his breath.

  

“It’s going to be a long three days…”

[j45uk3]

ㅡ 박 성혼 [study buddy]

genre :: angst?? fluff??

characters :: park sunghoon / gender-neutral

wc :: 1,225

summary :: entering a small cafe, you and your study buddy park sunghoon, made very unique and incredible memories. every smile and laugh and the way you both cringed at the different pick up lines you read for each other. who knew it would end this way?  

“hey !! I’m over here !!” a voice called while I was busy standing doing nothing with a cup of coffee in my hand. 

“sunghoon !!” I called out, running to the person I'm always with every after school. park sunghoon. I mean, by his name you would already know he’s some popular guy that everyone likes. Well, if that is what you thought then, yes. 

He is a popular guy, He’s a talented guy. He’s the smart guy. He’s the family guy. he’s the handsome guy. he’s everything. 

somehow luck decided to side with me since he’s somehow my brother’s best friend who became my best friend too. fate? yea, no. 

I don’t like him that way.

I scurried going to him as he stayed in his previous position keeping his gaze on me. as I arrived at where he was he gave me a simple smile and pointed to the door of the coffee shop gesturing for both of us to go inside. I nodded in response and we both entered.

as we entered, an ahjumma came in front of us and smiled. 

“Are you two going to study?” she asked us. we both looked at each other, back to the ahjumma, and nodded our heads.  

she smiled mischievously and lead the both of us to the end of the cafè, as we followed her, we both ended up in a small room with a table for two.  

"here you go, you can study here so there could be no distractions" she grinned at us and left the room. 

we both stood there observing the room, it was quite minimalist and it fit the dream room of a student for studying purposes. if only the library was like this. 

"let's start?" he said as he pointed to the table. nodding, I walked going to the middle of the room and dropped my bag by the seat I was going to sit on. 

a few minutes later...

checking my notes one last time, satisfied, I dropped it on the table and enthusiastically said "OK!! NOW LET'S TAKE A BREAK!" 

I heard sunghoon chuckle. looking at him, I gave him a sincere smile and continued to stretch. getting the cup of coffee, I happily took a sip.

"you seem to be my conjugate base since we have a lot in common.." 

I choked on my coffee. 

"OH MY GOD, Y/N ARE YOU ALRIGHT?-" 

"Y-YEAH, I'M ALRIGHT. i-i was just surprised with the sudden pick-up line.." 

wiping the stained shirt with a tissue, I looked up seeing sunghoon holding a piece of paper.

"oh, this?" he asked. he bent down and got another strip of paper that was scattered on the floor. clearing his throat, he read out loud.

"there's a side view, a rearview, and what else? I loview."

we both burst out laughing at the corny pick-up line. excited, I dropped down at got another random piece of paper,

"I'm good at algebra, i can replace your X and you wouldn't need to figure out Y." i said as i winked at him at the same time. 

sunghoon chuckled to himself, "i don't even have an ex" 

and the rest of the night went with both of us laughing at the cringy pick-up lines.

11:00PM

"kids, we're about to close now," the owner of the store reminded us as me and sunghoon were having fun with the pick-up lines. we snapped our heads to the voice and nodded our heads.

as the owner left, we both packed our things and went out of the cafe. 

"that was honestly so fun," sunghoon admitted as we both waited in front of the bus stop. 

"i know.." i whispered to myself, smiling as i recalled that time. 

but then the rain started to pour.

"oh shoot, i don't have a-" 

then a heavy object was suddenly wrapped around my shoulders, i looked at the guy beside me and his coat was gone. "you can use my jacket instead, my bus is next anyway" he smiled.

blushing, i nodded my head in a small manner and looked away from his dazzling face. "t-thanks" i managed to say despite my heart beating out of my chest.

"no. i don't like him. i dont." my own voice rang in my head.

we sat on the bench listening to the rain dripping and the sound of the cars honking and people laughing and talking. 

until sunghoon's bus came. 

as the bus went on a full stop, sunghoon stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder and waved at me. i waved back with a huge smile on my face and he entered the bus. i watched him walk inside the empty bus and sat on one of the seats by the entrance of the bus. the door closed and he looked forward meeting my eyes just staring at him. shoot-  

"bye y/n" he mouthed and the bus started to leave, while i was there not letting the bus out of my sight just yet.

the bus started to get smaller and smaller and i looked forward smiling to myself like a complete pyscho reminiscing the "study session" i had with sunghoon. 

present

it was his death anniversary. 

everyone around was sobbing and crying to themselves as i simply stared at his picture placed on top of his coffin, fighting back the tears that were going to pour out of my eyes any second. 

he got into a car crash that day. 

the more i stared into his picture that was smiling back, the more i couldn't hold the hot tears. without myself knowing, it just poured. my legs gave up on me as i kneeled on the wooden floor, my brother immediately coming up to me and hugged me. i mourned, burying my head into his chest making his black polo shirt wet with tears. 

"he's always here with us y'n..always" my brother said, also trying to fight back his tears as his voice went weak. 

"i hope so too, jay." i managed to say. but then nothing helped, nothing. we both continued to cry and mourn. a few minutes passed and we were both lead to our table filled with soju and some snacks. i couldn't even manage to lift my head up or reach my hands to get the food displayed in front of me. 

a finger tapped my shoulder and i slowly looked behind me, a hand appeared with a notebook. i looked up and saw sunghoon's younger sister wearing a weak smile.

"my brother told me to give this to you"  

"thanks.."

i gently got the notebook from her hand and she bowed, running back to her parents.

i turned back feeling nervousness run through my veins as i stared at the notebook. gulping, ready to fight back the tears i opened it. in each page, had a strip of paper glued to it. the pick-up lines. 

"he kept them?" i whispered to myself as i continuously flipped through the pages letting nostalgia? euphoria? complete sadness flow through me. i reached the last page, showing the study sessions i had with sunghoon. a picture for each month. 

as expected, i couldn't help it as water fell on the paper and i slammed the notebook shut, not wanting the pages to get wet. looking up, i wiped my tears off my face and opened it again. examining the pages and the little notes pasted i smiled to myself thinking:

"i guess i do like him after all.." 

[ai-katsuu]

Noki and Goldilocks (3/3)

chapters 1 2 3

previous chapter    

also read on ao3!

----

Noon approached and the sun was high up in the sky. Noki heavily panted out of exhaustion, debating on just falling in the river as well and resting. “You know you can stop now? We have more than enough.” Goldie called out.

“No...I didn’t get enough...have to..get…”

“Alright, alright come here.” Goldie picked up once more and this time he didn’t protest as he sort of just collapsed in her arms. “You got more than enough no worries. You just have to learn when to stop.”

Noki carried the fishing rod back while Goldie carried the bucket. “I have to admit,” Noki started. Goldie looked at him, “That was pretty fun. I would’ve never imagined myself enjoying something I wasn’t good at. Thanks.” he gave a small smile to her.

Goldie playfully rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop. But you’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I was beginning to think you were such a serious person.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You were always frowning, either that or you had a straight face all the time.” she noted.

That surprised Noki, he was always a happy person. Had he really been that upset about what happened yesterday? But even if it was just for a little while, all of his troubles melted away when he was with Goldie in the river this morning.

“Huh...sorry to give you that impression,” he said.

“No worries,” she smiled. Once they had reached the cabin Goldie turned to him, “I just need to drop this off at the Golden Goose market, would you mind cooking lunch?” she asked him.

‘Golden Goose?’ he thought. So they weren’t that far from the palace after all. Noki nodded, “Alright.”

With that, Goldie made a quick trip to the town. She had memorized the path that turned into shortcuts, shortcuts that she had walked for months. Goldie loved the town, the people there always greeted her without knowing she was a princess, she greeted the kids who seemed to know her as the fish lady and she would sometimes play with them as well. As much as she loved her royal status and all of it’s perks, she loved this life as well.

“Thirty-five fresh from the river!” she placed the bucket down on the table. The middle-aged man smiled,

“That’s more than usual! Well done, Goldie!” he grinned.

“Oh shucks it’s nothing. I had a friend help me today.” she said.

“That’s good, here.” he handed her a couple of coins, “I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Goldie waved him good-bye and was about to return back before he stopped her again, “Oh, Goldie! Sorry, one more thing.” the man took a paper out of his pocket, “Have you seen this dwarf?”

Goldie looked surprised. It was Noki. “Why are they looking for him?” she asked carefully, “Did he do anything wrong?”

The man shook his head, “No, he just went missing from the White Palace yesterday. The Prince and Princess are looking for him.” Just as he had said that another voice was heard,

“Noki!”

A shorter woman with brown hair called out his name. To her right was a tall prince dressed in blue, who she recognized to be Merlin of the Fearless Seven. Goldie was concerned and confused, but nonetheless she shook her head. “No, sorry I haven’t seen him. Gotta go.” and she quickly left the town.

On her way home, she thought about asking him about it, but if he knew they were looking for them would he want to go home? If she were being honest with herself she didn’t want him to leave. As free as she was in her cabin, it also got pretty lonely. But if that prince and princess were looking for him…

“Wait...why would a prince and princess be looking for a dwarf?” she asked herself out loud. That thought was cut short as she heard a scream coming from her cabin. Alerted, she sprinted to it and saw a bear approaching a much much smaller prey, which happened to be Noki who smelled of dead fish.

He didn’t have his crossbow with him, and admittedly he wasn’t that strong physically. Noki fell down and scooted back to the cabin door. It was locked as Goldie had accidentally taken the key with her. “Times like this I wish I had listened to Arthur’s training…” he mumbled to himself.

The bear snarled at him violently but it wasn’t long before a large thud was heard. Noki opened his eyes to see a sharp metal in front of him. Goldie had brought an axe in between them.

“Oh my god, you could have killed me!” he yelled.

“Please I could cut you an apple slice with this axe,” she grunted lifting it up. The bear had stood up on its hind legs, ready to fight the girl.

“Goldie, I don’t know much about bears but I think you’re supposed to leave it alone.” he said worriedly, backing up to the door. Goldie threw the key at him.

“Alright, I know about messing with bears more than anyone. So you don’t mess with me.” Goldie stared the beast down.

“Stop talking to the bear!” Noki yelled at her hysterically.

At this, the bear had suddenly shrunk down, and a little girl in a pink dress was shown.

“Oh..” Noki and Goldie looked at her, much much smaller than the both of them.

“Give me your fish! I was supposed to fish there this morning and you took all the good ones!” she stomped her foot down.

“Just go and catch more,” Noki offered, still a little confused.

“I don’t want to, I'm tired.” she stated flatly and stomped her foot on the ground, “Give me yours. I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it! I want it!”

Noki sighed, this is why he never wanted a sister. “Well if that’s what she wants, it couldn’t hurt to give her a few-”

“Hey! No one cares what you want, you brat!” Goldie yelled at her furiously. This surprised Noki greatly. He thought she would give it to her with no fight, apparently not. “You snooze, you lose, that's the deal. And you don’t go attacking someone like that you could hurt them. Now get off my property!” she scolded.

The little girl, now looking like she was about to cry, instead screeched out a scream that made Noki cover his ears.

Goldie rolled her eyes and walked up to her, “Ohh, the little girl thinks that if she screams she can get away with everything?” she said mockingly, “I can scream too, watch. AHH!” she yelled at her face.

“AHHH!”

“AHH!!”

“AHH!”

“Okay, I think you made your point, Goldie!” Noki said, covering his ears.

“Now, march!” Goldie sternly pointed at the woods. The little girl glared at her as she ran off. Goldie sighed as she walked back to the cabin. “You cooked anything yet?” she asked.

Noki merely shook his head, still surprised at her sudden change in personality.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.” she breathed out.

---

“I swear you looked crazy.” Noki laughed at her. They spent the rest of the day inside the cabin, night was starting to come over but they decided to have an early dinner. They sat together by the fireplace, tons of pillows surrounding them as they made themselves comfortable.

“What? That brat deserved it, she’s the crazy one.” Goldie rolled her eyes. “I hate it. She reminds me of me when I was her age.”

“You were like that?” Noki asked.

Goldie nodded, “I don’t want to talk about it. Makes me cringe.” ‘And she’s not the only one who reminds me of me…’ she thought to herself. “I’m gonna get some milk,” she said standing up. As soon as she walked away however, a piece of paper fell from her pocket.

“What’s this?” Noki asked, picking it up. Goldie turned around and almost immediately ran back,

“No, wait!”

Noki widened his eyes, it was a missing poster for him. “Where did you get this…?” he asked, shocked.

Goldie sighed and sat back down next to him. “Golden Goose. Some prince and princess were looking for you. I didn’t tell you cause..” ‘I wanted you to stay..’ she said in her mind, but kept that to herself, “Can I ask what that’s about?” she asked worriedly.

Noki averted his gaze, not answering.

“Is that why you were in the woods yesterday? You ran away from home?” she asked. Albeit slowly, Noki nodded his head. Goldie understood, “Alright. I’m not gonna turn you in.” she said.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I of all people should be able to understand not wanting to be home.”

“You trust me that easily?”

“Of course. I know you’re a good person.”

Goldie looked at him with the most sincere eyes he had seen; the fire reflecting in her eyes made a familiar warmth in his chest as he looked back at her.

“I...I’m not proud of it,” he told her, “I had a fight with brothers. We never fought, but for some reason, this thing I was working on just kept on breaking and breaking, and I just couldn’t get it right. I blew up and took it out on them. I said all these hurtful things to their faces, and it wasn’t even relevant at the moment”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly was it about?” she asked.

“I’m a middle child. My father trusted his workshop to my older brother, meanwhile, he gave most of his attention to my younger brother and I was just there. I always felt like I had to prove myself just to get attention, not just from my father but from others as well.” he said, “I’m always lumped in with my brothers, not that that’s a bad thing but sometimes, I just want to be seen for Noki. Me as an individual.”

He let out a long sigh and gave a very weak smile as he looked at the carpeted floor, “What would they think of me now..”

He then felt a weight shift on his left side. Goldie had put an arm around him and looked at him with saddened eyes, “I’ve never met your brothers but…

I think you’re pretty great, Noki.”

He felt tears sting at the corner of his eyes. He wanted this moment to last forever. The feeling of being acknowledged for being himself.

“Mm...thanks, Goldie. It means a lot.” he coughed out.

“It’s nothing. I was just stating the truth.” she smiled. “So why’d you get mad anyway?”

Noki flushed slightly, “I’m...a bit of a perfectionist.” he admitted.

“Well that’s easy!” she beamed, “Just learn to let loose and all your problems will disappear! Hakuna Matata!”

“What?”

“Nevermind. My point is, you have to learn to accept that there are things that you just aren’t good at. That and you need to learn that not everything can always go your way. Trust me.”

Noki, a little annoyed at how easy she claims it to be, rolled his eyes at her, “How would you know?”

Goldie, a bit offended at the gesture crossed her arms, “Cause I was a perfectionist too.” Noki looked surprised, “You remember my sisters right? They were on about me cause I was a brat, acting like that little girl we met earlier. I got mad at them for telling the truth so I ran off and found a little house that belonged to three bears. Long story short I messed their house up because nothing was to my standards and they got mad at me. That’s when I realized, just cause I’m working on something for myself, doesn’t mean it’s not affecting others too.”

Noki's mind flashback to when Gretel kept on asking about his well being. “Oh…”

“Eventually I learned my lesson. I didn’t feel like talking to my sisters though, so I moved out here as a way to learn some responsibility. I haven’t talked to them since, but I know they still have my back. They’re family, just like your brothers will always have your back.” she concluded. “My point is, no one expects you to change overnight. I can help you get through it.” she offered a smile at him.

Noki looked ashamed; ashamed but thankful she didn’t get mad at him. “Sorry I did that...thank you. I’d really like it if you were by my side…” he slowly realized that last bit of the sentence and widened his eyes, “Uh..what I mean by that is-!”

Goldie gasped, “It’s raining!” she looked out the window.

“Huh?” Noki turned around to see Goldie already running out the door. Noki followed her to see her dancing and playing around the rain.

As he stood by the doorframe, it was then and there he realized that Goldie was everything he was not. She was happy being herself, not caught up about whether she would get sick from the rain, or whether she might slip or get her clothes dirty. She was just happy having fun by herself.

That warm feeling came to his chest again.

Although he loved her personality, there were bound to be times where it could go too far. Goldie had indeed ran too fast as she slipped on the mud.

“Hey! Watch out!” Noki ran towards her, tripping slightly from the mud as well but stood his ground as he held her.

“Are you stupid?!” Noki yelled. “It’s raining, you shouldn’t be running out like that, you could get hurt!” Goldie was supposed to respond to him, and she would’ve, she just expected to respond to a smaller green dwarf, not a 5′9 blonde human.

Noki had seemed to notice her unusual silence, and for a moment he thought he had went too far with her, his face scrunched in regret,

“I’m sorry, Goldie, I didn’t mean to-”

“Human..” she muttered.

“What?” he looked at her eyes and saw them looking up and down, ‘What did she..’ his eyes widened in realization. “I’m human?” It occurred to him that when he ran across the mud, though very brief, he must have slipped and fallen a little too close to her face before he grabbed her.

“Oh my god, but the only way to break the curse is to-”

He looked at Goldie, who looked equally starstruck as well. He didn’t realize but apparently, they loved each other. Red finally made its way to Noki’s face as he helped her up. “I’m so sorry- are you okay-?” and she kissed him again. Her arms were around him as she pulled apart,

“You were human this whole time?!” she yelled.

“Y-Yeah,” he managed to get out, still surprised at their second kiss.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I liked you for yourself but I didn’t think you’d be human!” she said. She suddenly started laughing as the rain hit her face. “It all makes sense now! You’re Noki from the F7, no wonder Prince Merlin was looking for you!”

“That was Merlin?” he asked, “Wait no, that’s not the point. Hold on, there are too many things happening now...” he hadn’t noticed, but unconsciously his hands were comfortable around her as they held each other in the rain.

All went well after that. Goldie had encouraged Noki to go back to the White Palace, but he only agreed if she would come with him, and that’s what they did. They passed through the back entrance which was their workshop. The surprised look on Pino and Kio’s faces when Noki had returned was indescribable.  They didn’t care if he was already human, they were just so relieved and happy he was back. Noki had apologized to them, but they already understood. At that moment Noki was more than grateful just to be with them. The commotion had caused the rest of the group to come down to see Noki as a human, and a blonde woman beside him.

After apologizing for all the stress he gave the group, they apparently couldn’t care less and instead surrounded Goldie, asking a million questions to which she happily responded as she felt at home.

[nie7027]

DadReigen week day 3: Sports | Lessons

AHHHHH I DONT KNOW WHAT I’M DOING BUT AT LEAST I AM DOING SOMETHING 

well heres the second (third, sorry mods of the event it wasn’t my intetion to disrupt the order ) fic for dadreigenweek with some Shou feelings(or at least tried)

I hope you like it 

Sports

“It’s here” Reigen said at last stopping in the green open field.

“Here?” Shou glanced around and pointed with his thumbsat the monkey bars a few meters away from them “It’s a park Reigen. What kind of second rate spirit would haunt a park?” he deadpanned.

“What do you even know about spirits?!! Stop talking and let’s get to work. I’m the specialist here and I know what I’m talking about!”

“Sure you do old man. Sure you do” said Shou knowing fully well there wasn’t any spirit here. When Reigen turned his back to keep walking Shou stuck his tongue at him but still followed him.

Truth be told Shou had nothing better to do with Ritsu and the others being at school. He had already exhausted all his options and was dying of boredom, so when Reigen had asked his help this morning with a job he was very quick to accept. Too quick actually. I

f he had known it would require this much walking he would have thought it better.

But well this is what he deserved for sneaking into the office at unholy 8 in the morning and scaring the shit outta of Reigen.

Shou chuckled at the memory of  the first time when Reigen took hold of his umbrella and lounged to attack what he thought was a intruder, screaming the entire time

It made Shou realize he should tell Reigen to put better locks at the office because if thats was how he planned to defend against an attack then he had very poor chances. It had been very easy for him to block the umbrella.

Reigen just groaned when Shou said this to him the next day.

“If some people just entered through the door like any decent person, I wouldn’t have the need to defend myself “

“Where’s the fun in that?” had said Shou grinning.

Reigen suddenly stopped and waved his hand “What are you laughing at? We are wasting time. Spirits wont be exorcised by just chattering!”

Shou decided to play along 

“So, what exactly are we doing here? What was so important that you had to explicitly ask me for help instead of your oh-so-helpful-goodie-two shoes Serizawa?” Shou had to stop himself from cringing, that had come out more bitter than he had intended.

If Reigen noticed he didn’t acted on it.

“Even Serizawa has his personal matters to attend. Besides it’s not like he isn’t doing his work, someone had to stay back and look after the office” he then shrugged the backpack he had brought along and started rummaging looking for something “As for what we are doing….We are going to do and old ritual of sorts known from warding off evil spirits and attracting good energies-AJA HERE IT IS”

Shou had to do a double take at what Reigen was proudly holding in his hand.

An old worn out baseball ball.

Shou knew the man was a fraud but he was starting to think he had gone nuts. 

“Reigen you do realize that’s a baseball ball right? Like do you realize you are holding a toy?”

“Of course I know what it is!” he said tossing the ball at Shou who caught it reflexively “It’s the most important part of the ritual”

“Ritual?” Shou inspected the ball. As he thought it was just a simple ball. “ What kind of ritual involves a baseball ball?”

“Im telling you. It’s a very old ritual!” Reigen exclaimed offended “We pass each other the ball thus creating with our own energies a ward circle that extends and protects the whole area”

“What? Where did you get that-” Shou bursted laughing when a relizations struck him “Ritsu was right and you get all your practices from shady webpages... How old are you exactly to believe that kind of bullshit?”

 “Hey! you brat, I’ll let you know this is 100% real bussines, but what would a kid like you know disrepecting adults-”

“Shut up”

Shou frowned, it had been fun at first but now it was straight up annoying. 

“I’m not Mob and if you think I am as naive as him to believe everything you say is right just because you are and adult and you said so then you are wrong.”

Shou turned his back fully intent of going away but froze when Reigen spoke.

“No! wait Shou, I’m sorry! It wasn’t my intention to make you feel less just for being a kid”

“I’m not a kid” Shou huffed 

“I’m sorry anyway”

Shou sighed and turned around, scrutinizing Reigen’s gaze. It seemed sincere...unlike what he had seen in most adults throughout all his life.

“What are we doing here then?”he said crossing his arms “No more lies”

Reigen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“For the last 2 weeks you have spent the morning at the office-I’m not saying you can’t, you are always welcomed but you just sit there waiting for Ritsu to come, or Mob or whoever gets there... It’s not good for you”

He then looked down at Shou “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Shou nodded, he had thought of those things already but….it was stupid but he had been so focused with taking down his dad he hadn’t thought what he would do next.

“So I thought...When I was young I used to play with-err I enjoyed playing fetch” 

Reigen tried to leave it there but Shou wasn’t dumb, nor liked to be treated like he was fragile “I said no more lies, if you have something to say just do it”

“I was there, when you father tried to take over the world and I saw...I bet you have never played it”

He was right.

Shou handed him back the ball “Fine, let’s play.

Reigen smiled and for the second time that day Shou felts he shouldn’t have said yes so quickly. He had of course seen people playing fetch, it wasn’t that complicated but for some reason he still stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Reigen moved some meters away and asked him if he was ready before throwing the ball which Shou caught again with no problem at all.

He returned the ball 

Shou was confussed “How is this supposed to be fun?”

“Just wait and see!” 

Reigen then took a few steps back before tossing the ball again. This time with too much force.

The flew past Shou to high for him to reach it so with a flick of his hands he commanded his powers to bring the ball to him.

“HEY NO POWERS THAT’S CHEATING” Reigen immediately screamed 

“You were the one who threw it with too much force! How was I supposed to catch it? Running?”

“THAT´S THE POINT”

Shou was gonna make him eat his words.

With as much force as he could muster (and not powers) Shou threw the ball at him, it went above Reigen’s head but he actually ran and jumped catching the ball.

Shou pursed his lips, his competitive side taking over, when Reigen made a silly dance of victory.

The game was on.

They played until they were left panting and sweating on the ground, both their hair sticking to their foreheads and it was until then that Shou saw what else was inside the bag.

Juices pouches and sliced fruit.

Shou didn’t want to know why Reigen thought he could pass this as some spirit exorcism.

[your-high-lady]

Realisation

Summary: This story is about Feyre. She has a couple of small dreams she wants to achieve but turns out it isn't as easy as she imagined it would. Trust me, the story is better than the summary. Modern AU. Feysand.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8  Chapter 9   Chapter 10

Chapter 11: Well done, Rhys

Rhys's POV

"Seriously?" Mor's eyes bulged as she stared at me, excitement and shock mingling in her eyes.

I had told the whole group plus Varian, Amren's boyfriend and Feyre, to come to the library so that I could tell them something.

"You're seriously taking us to Disneyland? In LA? In two days, during the two-week holiday, we have coming up?" I nodded my head wryly at Mor, before glancing at Feyre, wanting to catch her reaction. She was quiet, a small smile lighting her face, but I could see her eyes glowing with much more expression. She was excited. I was willing to bet she'd never been to any of the Disneyland parks, which meant this would be a first for her. I gave her small smirk before turning to the others and telling them the whole plan.

We would be living in a hotel, within driving distance of the park. I'd already bought 5-day passes for all of them and also paid for three rooms. Cassian, Azriel and I would be in one, Amren and Varian in another and Feyre and Mor in the last. We'd be there for seven days which meant we could spend at least one day doing something other than enjoying the rides and another resting while the rest of our trip would be spent going through all the things they offered at Disneyland.

Mor squealed before running off, dragging Feyre along with her, presumably to do some last-minute shopping or maybe some other things here and there.

Soon the others left too, and I was left alone to think about Feyre's reaction. She was happy and excited, that much was clear, even though she didn't let it show.

It was enough.

—

Feyre's POV

Disneyland. I'd never been before and the smirk Rhys had given me made me suspect this trip was just a part of some great scheme he was thinking. But I couldn't deny the excitement I was feeling. I'd always wanted to go to Disneyland, and I knew that going with Mor's friends would just make the trip a hundred times better. That's just the type of people they were. They managed to find the fun in everything. It was one of the reasons I loved hanging out with them. They just made me laugh so much. They helped me forget everything bad in my life, even if it was only for a second, and I was able to have fun. I was able to laugh and be happy. I wanted that. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to laugh. Which is why I didn't make too much of a fuss when Rhys told us he'd already paid for everything. Who am I to turn down a whole week of endless fun with such lively people, or I guess, lively in their own unique ways.

—

Two days later, I found myself loading bags into Rhys's car. It was going to be a tight fit, sitting in such close proximity to so many men for about seven hours, but I could make it. At least I hoped I could.

Thankfully seven hours later, I found myself sighing in relief. I'd made it. The multiple stops we'd taken for food and bathrooms had helped quite a lot.

As Rhys parked the car, I looked around. There were a lot of trees and the place actually looked quite welcoming. As we took our bags inside, I noticed beautiful wallpapers of different Disney characters such as Micky and Cinderella. It was actually quite nice. Once we had our keys, Rhys led us towards our rooms. He dropped Amren and Varian first before taking Mor and I to our room. It wasn't very big but not to small either. It was perfect really, The wall the beds were against had been painted a sea blue with the rest of the walls being white. The bedsheets and some few things here and there matched the blue, but otherwise, everything else was a plain white. Rhys gave me the keys, and before leaving told us that dinner was in about 4-5 hours but if we wanted to we could come to the pool before then. The others would also be coming in another couple hours or so.

And so a couple of hours later, I find myself swimming in the hotel pool with the rest of Mor's friends as well as other families/couples who had chosen to use their holidays to come to LA too.

For most of our time in the pool, I just sit off to the side, watching as Mor and Cassian interacted loudly with practically everyone in the pool, sometimes involving the kids in a game of water-tag, and sometimes everyone in a game of water polo. She did force me to play them later with a threat that if I didn't play at least one game she'd burn all my luggage. I believed her.

We had moved to the spa when he came towards me. I looked into Rhys's eyes. I'd drawn them so many times now, I knew them like I knew the back of my hand. They truly were beautiful and impossible to recreate perfectly.

I quickly blinked my thoughts away before focusing again on Rhys. He had taken a seat beside me. "I'm sorry." He started off with.

"Why?" I frowned, though I knew why.

"For being an ass." I looked away from him. I hadn't really meant to be so straightforward or mean with my words but I just couldn't have held it in any longer. I'd had to tell him. And honestly, I was proud of myself for being brave enough to actually open my mouth for once. "It was totally uncalled for, but I want you to know that it's nothing personal. I've just been having a hard time lately and being arrogant and sassy is just the way I handle it, I guess. I didn't mean to upset you or anything." He finished.

I looked up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. "Why are you having a bad time?"

'Hmm?" He asked though I knew he had heard my question.

"What's bothering you?"

"I don't really want to talk about right now." He blocked me out.

I sighed. I felt pity for him. Something told me that whatever was going on in his mind right now was the reason for the lines and stress I saw often across his face. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" It had sounded a lot better in my head but once it was out, I couldn't take it back, no matter how cringe I thought my words were. But then he looked up at me, gratitude in his eyes, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Rhys's POV

My nightmares had stopped. Well, not stopped, really. I guess you could say they had lost their consistency. Before I met Feyre I had usually gotten them at least twice or thrice a week but in the last couple months, they'd only been bad enough to waken me thrice in the middle of the night. I'd say that was progress. And something told me that Feyre was the reason for the decreasing number of my nightmares. And something also told me that the closer we got to each, the fewer nightmares I'd have. It only gave me another reason to want her close by me so much. Because there were many reasons. Yes, she was beautiful and smart and charming. But she was also ambitious and artistic. Her mind was so different as if she saw the world in a totally different way as opposed to the way normal people like me saw it. Sometimes I'd catch her just staring at something, her eyes glazed over as if she were cataloguing the view in front of her, in her mind, and deciding which colours she'd use or mix together to paint that tree there and the river here. It astonished and intrigued me so much, that mind of hers.

"For what?" She asked me.

"For,"—being there, comforting me, taking my many sleepless nights away—"being friends with Mor. I knew she was lonely in New Zealand but I also know that when you two met, she was a lot happier person."

She stared at me, eyes narrowed as if trying to figure out whether I was lying or not, but only said, "You're welcome," before turning her eyes away from me to look at Mor who, it looked like, was flirting with another woman with dark brown hair and colourful tattoos running up and down her arms. Looking back at Feyre, I could tell she wasn't surprised. She obviously knew about Mor's sexual orientation. I was glad that Mor was able to be comfortable enough with her sexuality to not hide it. Suddenly Feyre turned back to me. "What do your tattoos mean?"

Feyre's POV

Today was the first time I'd seen his tattoos in their full glory, including the ones on his knees. Mountains with three stars above the peaks. That's what they were, but what did they mean?

"The ones on my chest are just a representation of our friendship hence the reason they have them, too." He paused, glancing at his friends and then looking at me as if deciding whether or not it was worth telling me about the ones on his knees. Or maybe he was thinking about whether or not I'd understand the meaning. In any case, he carried on, "The ones on my knees mean I will bow for nothing and no one but myself, and what I hold dearest in my heart." I tilted my head, partly in surprise but also in interest. It was such a strange reason to tattoo your knees with mountains, but I understood why he did what he did. It was a reminder to himself and to the rest of the world.

"Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it." I finally said, and he nodded back at me. His eyes darted to the clock on the wall, and he said to me, "We should be getting out soon, it's nearly time for dinner." It was then that I realised that more than half the people had already gotten out of the pool. There were only us and one couple, and just as I thought that they started getting out too. I nodded at Rhys before floating through the water to the steps and he went to tell the others to get out too.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself sitting in between Amren and Mor at a table in the hotel dining room. It was quite flash with its red walls and gold embroidery running up and down them. The high ceiling was a series of images ranging from different cultures and mythology shown in different panels of stained glass. It was actually really cool to look at it. We ordered our food and drinks and soon dug into our food which ranged from pastas(Cassian) to salads(Amren). The whole time Cassian and Mor were being goofballs making the rest of us laugh. At one point Cassian made a comment to Mor about the woman she'd been talking to in the spa, but Mor was quick to shut him up with a glare. But then two seconds later she added, "She's straight and wanted to have sex with you. I told her you'd castrated yourself for religious reasons. You can never have sex." Cassian choked on his food, coughing furiously as Mor looked up at him, an evil smile on her face that clearly meant she didn't regret what she'd done and was thoroughly satisfied by Cassian's reaction. That got everyone at the table laughing.

It was during dessert that Rhys got everyone quiet and told us the plan for the next week we were spending in LA.

Basically each day there would be three groups with two having two people each and the last team having three people in their group. Each day everyone would get a few areas in the park and we could spend the day hanging around those areas. Our last day, at Disneyland, we would all stay together and go over everyone's favourites over the whole park. Hopefully, by the end of our five-day pass, everyone would've done everything Disneyland offered at least once if not more than once. Rhys told us that he'd made it this way to avoid all the fuss and arguments they would've definitely happened if we'd all stuck together the whole time. And then on the sixth day before we left, us girls would be able to go shopping or do whatever we wanted while the boys would be going for a Lakers game which was also happening on that day, and then later in the night we'd all go to local bar and just end the trip by getting drunk.

I was really excited.

AN: Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think of it. Tell me everything.

[ironwebbs]

Geniuses and Genius Bars

Sorry @iamirondad for taking so long to get to this one. Please enjoy. 

AO3 LINK 

Tony was giving a speech to the Midtown School of Science and Technology. Naturally Peters excited, until he isn't, and Tony finally meets Flash Thompson.

Peter was excited.

Tony couldn’t understand why, but the kid was all smiles and jittering legs, bumbling at a million miles an hour about how great this was, how this was a historic moment, a life changing event, a once in a lifetime opportunity…

It was just a speech about the different grants and scholarships and work opportunities with stark industries. But for some reason, every damn kid in the school had been hyping it up for weeks, months even.

Including Peter.

Tony just didn’t get it. Peter saw him every week, more than once a week, and they spoke about college and further opportunities all the time? Why was this one insignificant talk to a bunch of teenagers getting him crawling up the walls?

Nonetheless he entertained the kid. Let him ramble and gasp ideas and nonsense about the things Tony could talk about.

“What about the suit Mr. Stark? What if you demonstrated the nanotech? The school would go wild for that! Can you imagine it?” he had laughed. Tony had just rolled his eyes in response, refusing to admit it would be kind of fun to have hundreds of awe-struck nerd kids admire his hard work. If anyone were to appreciate the complexity of nanotech, is was the Midtown school of Science and Technology kids.

“I don’t see the big deal kid, you could watch my TED talks on YouTube if you are such a fan” he teased. This time it was Peters turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m not a fan” he blushed, “It’s just… it’s so amazing what you do. There’re so many kids at the school who are there for their intelligence alone you know? They come from not so great homes, or really struggle financially… this kind of opportunity you’re talking about, it gives hope to those kids… I was one of those kids Mr. Stark” he shrugs his shoulders in a façade of nonchalance, but his excitement is still surface level, gleaming in his eyes.

Tony sometimes forgets his privilege, forgets his brains came with an influence, and never in his youth did he have to think about whether or not he could go to college. It was only how many degrees and doctorates can I get to shove it up Howards ass. He feels pride wash through him at Peters declaration, at the kid’s faith in him, in everyone.

“Plus, means I get a free ride into school so that’s great too” Peter smirks smugly, his cheeky grin pressing at his lips.

Tony mocks a shocked expression, “If you think I’ll allow you to treat me like your uber driver kid, you have another thing coming.”

Peter exaggerates a whine “Common Mr. Stark! The train smells like a sewer! I’ll even give you five stars” he laughs, ducking as Tony ditches the closest rag at his head.

Tony preens at the domesticity, at Peters comfort in the lab environment.

Not for the first time, he vows he would protect that kid with every inch of his life.

“But seriously Mr. Stark, what you do for all those kids in need is pretty awesome, I don’t know if you see what I see, but you’re like the Oprah of the science and tech world” he says with all sincerity. Tony scoffs at the reference to Oprah. He would never be as cool as Oprah.

“Yeah well, someone’s got to keep monitors on all your nerds, who knows what world ending machine you might end up creating” he smiles coyly, reaching out to ruffle the kids unruly hair.

Peter thinks for a moment, Tony can already tell the kids conjuring up dangerous one liner by the glint in his eyes “You mean like Ultron?” he smirks.

Tony drops his jaw “You little shmuck!” he throws another rag, and when Peter ducks away from that he throws a spanner too, groaning as the kid catches it and grins even wider.

“Admit it Mr. Stark! You’re a nerd just like us!” he laughs with glee. Tony shakes his head. “Never young buck. Never. Give me back my spanner, nerd”

“Admit it!”

“Not happening”

“Admit it!”

“Give it back or I’ll call May”

“That’s something a nerd would say” Peter snickers, ducking in anticipation at the look Tony throws him.

“I’ll call myself a nerd, when you admit you’re one of my fangirls.” Tony throws back, raising an eyebrow, hiding his smirk.

Peter huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You already know I’m a fangirl, Mr. Stark…” he pauses for comedic effect, Tony already knows he’s got another one liner in him “of Ironman, that is. Couldn’t care less about the dude in it” he’s giggling before he’s even finished the sentence.

Tony made a noise of protest before charging at the now running away teen. Peters laughter bounced off the walls, excitement in his mischievous eyes. Tony snags one of Peters web-shooters off the table, grinning in pleasure at Peters haltered step, the widening of his eyes.

“DUM-E” he singsongs, watching as the robot whirred its way happily over to him. Peter eyes grew even wider.

“You wouldn’t” he gasped.

“Oh but I would. DUM-E, you want to check if these are fireproof for me? I know how much you love-“ he’s cut off by a spanner clattering at his feet, Peter following quickly behind.

“Truce! Truce okay! You’re not a nerd, I’m a fangirl, please give them back!” he yelps. Tony taking way too much amusement and pleasure in Peters agony, raises his hand towards DUM-E, web shooter dangling dangerously, watching Peter cringe as the claw moves in on its target.

Waiting a final moment, revelling in Peters puppy dog eyes, he tosses the shooter back, Peter catching it effortlessly with a relieved smile, slipping it back on his wrist.

“Jerk” he laughs, “Nerd” Tony snipes back.

He ruffles the kid’s hair again, just because he can. Peter ducking away and grinning wide. “I probably should head home anyway, getting kinda dark.” Peter smiles, moving to shove his bags back together, leaving his station messy and cluttered. Tony rolled his eyes. Teenagers.  

“Need a lift?” He asked, moving to shut down his own station.

“Oh, now you want to be my Uber driver.” Peter smirks, darting out of the way of Tonys attempted head smack. “Yeah keep it up and you can walk on Friday.” Tony puffed.

It was Peters turn to roll his eyes. “You can’t stop me from catching the train Mr. Stark.”

“I can cancel your Metro pass, maybe put you on the teenage deviants watch list. Would love to see you try outrun those guards during peak”

Peter winces, “Fine, you are the best mentor, I owe you my life, please pick me up at 7” he rushes out the door before Tony can protest, not that he would. Tony can hear his giddy laughter all the way down the corridor, can almost see the skip in his step.

Which is why it is so wrong when he picks the kid up, three days later, and Peter looks like he wishes he was anywhere else.

The teen sits slumped in the passenger seat, eyes downcast, lip pulled between his teeth. A nervous trait that Tony had noticed he did when he was stressed. Not just stressed, but stressed.

“What’s up kiddo? You not feeling too good?” He asks, trying to swallow the excitement he himself had been feeling on the drive over. He thought Peter would be the same, vibrating with energy like he had been in the lab. Now Peter’s a shell of that kid, worried and jittery. Not the good kind.

Peter shakes his head, he goes to respond, but his phone pings, taking his attention for a moment. Tony sees as the kids face scrunches up, jaw clenched, before he tosses his phone carelessly back into his back pack and slumps back again with a sigh.

“Seriously Pete, spill. What’s on your mind? I thought you would have your head out of the sunroof by now” The joke doesn’t even register on Peters glum face.

“I’m just not feeling it today.” He replies softly. Tony frowns. “Is it something at school?” Maybe the workload was building up again, or the decathlon team… he had practice for that yesterday afternoon, maybe something had happened there. “Something like that” he gets in a mumbled response.

Peter kept his eyes glued out the window. Not bothering to engage in any more conversation. Tony frowned harder, nervously tapping at the wheel. Had he done something to upset Peter? Was there something he had forgotten?

He’s about to ask, when Peter cuts in quietly. “Could you please drop me off here?” Tony looked at where Peter was referring, confused. “Pete we are still three blocks away? I can drop you off closer?” but Peter shook his head determinedly, already pulling up his bag and reaching for the handle. Unsure of what to do, Tony pulled over, allowing the teen to jump up and scatter over to the side walk, quick to blend in with the other pedestrians.

It took Tony a few more seconds to remember to drive, his heart sinking as he watched Peter get smaller and smaller in his rear-view mirror. Should he have stopped him? Should he go back?

Surely this was just another teenager thing, embarrassment about their parent dropping them off… not that Tony was a parent, definitely not. Unless Peter wanted him to be.

But this was behaviour Tony hadn’t seen before. This was more subdued than he had experienced. And he had experienced a lot.

Trying to shake of the unnerving feeling, he pulled into the staff parking lot, ensuring he was tucked away, not wanting to risk some kids vandalising the paint. He gathered his thoughts, finding them continuously running back to his sad kid, mentee.

He slipped through the staff entry, greeting the flustered star struck admin team, gracefully allowing them to guide him into the teachers common room. All heads shot up, some more awe struck than others. Here we go he thought dimly. Time to work the crowd.

He plastered on his best paparazzi smile, allowing all the questions, how many scholarships are you giving away, what kind of talent are you looking for, are there any job prospects, we have a robotics competition coming up would you be free to judge? Tony smirked, Peter would definitely be entering in that competition. And he would win. No son of his No protégé of his would lose that.

Surprisingly, no one asked him about Peter. He was sure those kinds of questions would come, given one of their students had scored the only high school interning position that had ever existed in the history of Stark Industries. He had made the title official (name badge and all) at the beginning of the year, telling Peter that it had nothing to do with Spiderman, and everything to do with his genuine intelligence and promising future in the industry. Peter had taken a while to properly accept, worried he was taking the opportunity away from someone more deserving. Tony had scoffed. As if that person existed.

He was about to ask his own set of questions, wanted to hear just how good his Peter was doing, even though he already knew the kid was the best, but one the teachers took his arm and informed him the students were all seated in the main hall and ready for his address.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at not only his lost opportunity to hype up Peter, but also at the woman’s clear excitement to escort Tony to the floor, he lets himself be led, fighting the need to pull away and walk himself. He didn’t want to be a douchebag here. He needed to be on his best behaviour for Peter.

The cohort erupts into screams and booming clapping as he steps onto stage, his smile half genuine, half reflex from his decades of practice. He begins the spiel, the one Pepper wrote, the one he promised not to deviate from. He seeks Peter out quickly, hoping to see that excitement.

He doesn’t.

Peters eyes are mostly downcast, focus on his shoelaces. He can see Peters friend, Ned, beside the teen, looking excited like the other kids, but constantly throwing worried glances to Peter.

Tony tries not to let it bother him now. It could bother him later, when he could give Peter his full attention and get to the bottom of what was making him so upset. Right now he had to focus on the speech.

He finished up with an inspirational quote, not as great as his usual go break some eggs, but age appropriate and obviously affective with the way the students were standing to clap and cheer, loud excited chatter erupting amongst them all. Peter had been right, these kids were ecstatic.

The woman that had led him over before stood back on stage, moving to the microphone to settle the group. “Mr. Stark has been kind enough to allow questions today. Remember your manners, and only appropriate questions.” She warned. Tony didn’t want to answer questions. He had forgotten that this was a part of the package. He wanted to scoop Peter up and drive him to the nearest parlour and fill his sad stomach with every ice-cream flavour available.

The questions start immediately, Would the scholarship guarantee a job at Stark Industries, When would the winners be announced, Would he announce any more scholarships during the year, Did he have his suit? He laughed at the last question, eyes catching Peters, hoping the kid would share the amusement. But Peter was still looking down, not listening.

It hurt, just a little bit.

A kid stands up confidently. He hadn’t had his hand raised, and he hadn’t been chosen to ask, but he was standing anyway, his face coiled like a snake with a grin. Entitled brat, Tony thought immediately. But then he saw Peter shrink even further, and his confusion was quickly turning to anger. He didn’t know why, but this kid was trouble.

“Mr. Stark. There’s something I think you should know. I respect you enough to give you this information, for the sake of your reputation.” The boy started. There were sniggers, some turned laughter around the proud teenager. Some teachers begun to throw some worried looks between each other, even the woman from earlier ready to step in. “Okay… and what might that be?” Tony asked cautiously, unbothered that it came out with a little bite.

The teen, unfazed, continued, smile plastered on his face now. “There is a student here, that is going around and spreading horrible lies about you, which is frankly just sad, but he has been claiming to work for you, which, as I’m sure you can agree is preposterous.” A teacher steps forward, looking to intervene, but Tony stops her with a hand.

“And who might that be?” he asked. What kid was making things up? Were they trying to compete with Peter? Was this douchebag actually telling the truth? Either way, this teenager was a bully, so he knew he was going to have to approach this differently than he would with adults. There was no need to put another student down for wanting to work with him.

The teens smirk grew even more menacing, the laughter of the classmates rising. He reached down and came back up with a handful of blue sweater.

Attached to Peter Parker.

Tony lost his ability to speak. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head at once. But he quickly realised what was going on. Tony was that kid the bullies held up and refused to believe a word that came out of his mouth when he was in high school. These students didn’t believe Peters internship. Which would assume the teachers didn’t either, given their staff room behaviour.

“Mr. Stark meet Peter Parker. Now as I’m sure you are just as mortified as the rest of us, that this subpar student thinks he could score a position alongside you, let alone as a janitor for your catering staff” the class laughed louder, Tony could see Peter cheeks swell red with humiliation, eyes downcast but surely full of tears.

Hot burning rage filled in Tony’s gut. This teenager. This prick was humiliating his kid.

“So, I’m giving you the opportunity to set the record straight, and I should hope, put in place a punishment for this act of fraud and deceit.” The smartass concluded. He pushed Peter forward, and hard. Unexpected apparently, because Peter went sailing to the floor, hitting it with a loud thud. The crowd burst into laughter, only softening with the teachers mortified shushing.

At a loss and in a pit of rage, Tony was almost speechless. The prick hurt his kid.

The prick was going to die.

The teacher rushed to the microphone. “Flash Thompson! Enough, you sit down right this instant” she hissed. Tony took that moment to pull his phone out, blood boiling, hands shaking.

“Eugene, was it?” He asked loudly. The crowd was silent now, the teenager still standing, smug as ever. Peter was moving to sit back down, but Flash was quicker, grabbing the sullen teens forearm and wrenching him back beside him.

“That’s right Mr. Stark.” He said proudly, probably ready to receive his praise. He was going to receive something alright.

“Interesting, Oh here we go” he smirked. The projectors on either side of the room flickered on, Tony quick to bring up the assholes files. At least that got him paling.

“Oh look at that, GPA of only 3, that’s disappointing isn’t it. Won’t be able to apply for my scholarships” he laughed humourlessly. The teenager had the audacity to make a noise of protest, but Tony got in first.

“Oh my, look at this, a C in Physics? That must be hard for you. Can’t get into those Ivy league schools with a C can we?” He was carelessly letting the sarcasm roll in. The teachers look antsy, he has no care for them.

“And look what we have here! Intern applications Mr. Thompson! What do you have to offer, I wonder”

“That’s private!” the teen interjects hysterically. Eyes looking for support from other staff members.

“Not that private apparently. Oh my, are we really going around and calling ourselves a genius? I think that’s far from the truth. And here you are talking about fraud and deceit”

“You want to see a real genius Mr. Thompson?” he drops his voice lower, anger slipping in hard. He fiddles with his phone, the projection quickly changing to the next profile.

Peters.

“Perfect GPA, Perfect candidate for all the scholarships, and you know what else he has?” He waits to see Flash’s face tense. “He has an internship at Stark Industries as my mentee. You know why he has that? I’ll tell you, I’m sure it would be too hard for you to work out anyway. Because he is intelligent, he is respectful, and he is a damn good kid.” He spits.

The room is shocked into silence. Peters head has lifted, a blush on his cheeks.

“The only time you will call yourself a genius will be at the genius bar of Apple” he snarls. The teenager looks furious, entitled and obviously not used to being the butt of the joke.

Tony cuts him off before he can protest, “Peter will go on to be one of the greatest minds of your generation, and you only ever be good enough to work as the salesman for his products.”

There’s a lot of slack jaws in the audience. Even Peters.

He said what he has to say, and now he was through. “If any of you have any questions about Peters internship, you come through me.” He presses one of his smiles for good measure before storming off the stage, leaving the dumfounded crowd behind.

They were laughing at Peter. They were hurting him. Peter was upset because his peers couldn’t see how fantastic he was. Were they blind?

The teachers try to gush apologies, try to assure him that discipline will take place, that they don’t stand that behaviour. But he just scoffs, and leaves as soon as he can, jumping into his car and resisting the need to slam his hand into the wheel.

He grabs his phone, shooting a message off quickly to Peter.

TS: Do you want to take the rest of the day off?

He would, if he were Peter. But Peters better than him, always has been.

PP: No thanks.

And that’s all he gets. Nothing else. Nada. Zilch.

He drives away feeling even worse. Had he aggravated the problem? Did he go too far? Was Peter mad at him now?

His head was in shambles, both pleased that he was able to set the record straight, and maybe avoid Peter getting bullied, but then Peters being bullied? How had he not known? And given the amount of students laughing at Peter, and not shocked at one bullies behaviour, it was happening a lot. And then he was stuck thinking he had made it even worse. He doesn’t even realise he’s been pacing the lab for hours, unproductive and fulminated.

At least today was Friday, which meant Peter was coming over after school anyway. They could sort this out. Tony could get his answers.

But when the clock his 4.00, and Peter still hasn’t come through those doors, he starts to lose hope that the kids not angry with him. That the he was still coming for lab.

Tony slumps into his work chair, grouchy and fired up. Should he write a letter to the school about their anti-bullying schemes? Should he employ that Eugene kid to publicly fire him?

Should he mind his own business?

He’s torn from his thoughts as he hears the ding of the elevator, the familiar pads of steps approaching the lab doors. He throws a glance to the clock above the wall, frowning at the hour, past 5.00pm. Not enough time for Peter to have been on patrol, and he had no extra-curricular after school, which means either the kid was avoiding him or…

One look at his face gives him the affirmation of the alternative.

He chokes as he shoots up, rushing over to the downcast teenager. “Peter, Jesus Christ, your face”

Peters face was an array of colours, from the smears of blood, to the dark blue above his cheek, the purpling around his jaw, and the vacant black of his hazel eyes.

“Was this that Flash? Did he do this?” he growls, stepping closer to the dejected kid, still standing in the doorway. Peter looks up, Tony can see the tell-tale tear tracks that had once rolled down his ruddy cheeks.

“Why did you do that?” Peter asks quietly, almost inaudible. Tony stops in his tracks, wary of moving even closer, despite the magnet drawing him in hard. He recognises the emotions on Peters face, he knows they mean stay back. So he does.

“Pete, I didn’t mean for you to be” he gestures openly to the bruises and the bleeding.

“You didn’t need to be so mean.” He mutters, dropping his back pack to the floor. He remains in the doorway, unsure of himself, eye brows creased and tense.

“Didn’t have to be so mean? Kid, that boy was humiliating you! He pushed you! I could have been a whole lot worse” a sudden rage coils in his gut again. Be it him remembering the debacle, or his own entitled persona clawing its way to the surface, furious at the lack of gratitude. “You are going to explain yourself mister. How long has this been going on?” He crosses his arms, eyes hard and stern. He hopped that was enough to get through to the resisting teenager.

“Long enough for me to be able to handle this on my own” Peter responds defiantly, jaw set and eyes down.

“Can you stop being a goddamn saint for five seconds Peter! Jesus Christ. You don’t have to put yourself through a meat grinder just because you have superpowers you idiot!” He hates that he’s yelling. He hates himself so much. But Peter was hurt, and Peter needed to hear this.

Peter tenses harder, he turns his face up, staring Tony down. “That’s not why. These kinds of groups want to hurt someone! If they hurt me, I heal. Do you understand? I heal. The other kids? Not so lucky. So yeah, I go through a meat grinder but that’s my choice. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

Tony blanches. Self-sacrificing idiot teenager.

“Yeah you really looked like you could handle yourself out there today. Really great show Parker” he scoffs. His hands itch to wipe the blood off the boys temple, to hold him close.

“Why do you care? What I do at school shouldn’t matter to you” he shot back, cheeks reddening with the shame of todays events.

“Why do I care? Dammit Peter, of course I care. You’re goddamn brilliant, you’re better than every single person in that damn school, not just in your genius, but everything. Jesus, even the last words out of your mouth you’re putting yourself last. Those kids don’t deserve to stand next to you, leave alone belittle you” he blew out a frustrated breath of air before continuing.

“I was that kid Pete. I was the kid who was different. I was 3 years younger than everyone in my class, I was the son of a billionaire, I was a smartass. Came home every day with a new bruise or a split lip, and I was told to toughen up. To fend for myself. Do you know how much I wished for once someone else would stand up for me? Someone else to kick those assholes in the balls” Peter huffed out a hesitant laugh, Tony joining in.

“What I’m trying to say kiddo, you’re not alone. You don’t have to fight this one on your own okay? Bullies are bullies. Their hits hurt, and their words hurt even more. That doesn’t mean you have to endure them so someone else doesn’t. That means you get to be the hero and stop them from hurting someone when you’re not around to be their punching bag.”

Peter slumped visibly. “I just, I was so excited about today, and they ruined it. They made me feel so embarrassed Mr. Stark. I preferred the afterschool special over that auditorium.”

Tony nodded in understanding. The humiliation was always worse than the shoves. “I’m sorry I went overboard. It just makes me so mad that people don’t see what I see. They don’t see how damn great you are.” Tony closes his eyes. Startled when he finds himself suddenly with an arm full of teenager.

Peter clings to him tightly, Tonys arms wrapping around the smaller boy just as tight. “I’m sorry too. I was embarrassed” Peter mumbles into Tonys shirt. Tony nods, enough for Peter to be able to feel the movement.

“But did it make you feel a little bit better when that dweeb got, what do you kids say, dragged?” He can feel Peters full body cringe, “oh my god” the kid groans.

Tonys just happy to feel the imprint of the smile. “It was pretty funny” Peter laughs breathily. Tony chuckles, “His face was so shocked. I think he thought I was going to thank him and offer him the internship. Dumbass”

Peter laughs again, it’s louder now. Tony pushes the boy out of his arms, taking in his battered face. “Can we clean this up now? And then have a nice long chat about round two tomorrow when I drag that tool by his manicured nails?” Tony smirks, watching as Peter winced. “We’ll talk about it” the teenager pleads.

Tony takes pity, wrapping and arm around the boys shoulder, leading them both out and towards the kitchen where his first aid kit was stored. And his chocolate. This felt like one of those occasions.

“I’d understand. If you had to deny it though” Peter says softly after a moment of silence.

Tony frowns confused. “Deny what?”

Peter sighs sadly. “I know I’m just a poor orphan kid from Queens. If you needed to deny our internship for the image, I’d understand.”

Tony swings them around so fast Peter almost loses his balance. He stands in front of the kid, hands on his shoulders, ducking to force the eye contact.

“Peter. Listen to me. I will never be ashamed of you. Kid, in a couple of years I won’t be ‘Tony Stark’, anymore. I’ll be Peter Parkers first mentor. You are going to rewrite the history books. I know it. I’ll eventually be a small detail in your biography of the greatest minds of the century. And you know what? I’m going to be a proud parent watching from the sidelines, cheering you on every step of the way. Nothing would ever make me prouder of you Peter Parker.”

Peters eyes are filling with tears, Tony doesn’t think they are ready for crying in front of each other just yet, so he turns on his heel again, pulling the dumbstruck kid towards the kitchen counter.

Peter wipes his swollen eyes when he thinks Tony isn’t looking, hissing as Tony begins to dab away at the open cuts.

The kid looks lost in thought, deep in his own mind. Tony decides to pull him out before he gets too down. “Want to tell me what that big brain of yours is thinking right about now?”

Peter thinks for a second more, face curling into a semblance of a smirk.

“I wouldn’t have taken you to knowing the Apple customer service positions” he grins,

“unless you were a nerd.”

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 13 (M)

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language, hella fluff, hella smut, hella angst, dirty talk, cream pie, mentions of death, mentions of drug use

Words: 9,090

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

A/N: This one’s ma favorite

Hoseok and I continue this routine, spending huge amounts of time together,  getting to know each other more and more throughout the next three weeks and surprisingly, I wouldn't want it any other way.

We would get ice cream together.

"So, you gonna let me pay for you this time?" J-Hope nagged after ordering  treats at the crowded ice cream parlor.

I laugh fondly at the memory of Jay fighting to pay for my ice cream at this same place and literally swatting my hands and running to pay for macaroons.

"Something tells me you're not gonna give me much of a choice." He chuckles, raising his eyebrows and nodding as if to say 'you thought correctly.' He always pays for the treats and we spend hours being silly and making fun of each other per usual. We visited the parlor so often that we made a deal: we would each try a different flavor with every visit just to switch things up a bit and we were on a first name basis with Gio, the owner of the place. He would always tease us about how cute we were in our "honeymoon" phase, which made me cringe, but filled Jay with pride every time.

Afterward, Jay always seemed to have some activity already picked out, the two of us behaving like a pair of tourists.

We've gone to the Museum of Modern Art, the Asian Art Museum and tried to hit a bunch of other art museums in the Bay area. It was so gratifying to have  someone around who was as interested in art as I was, who could actually have an opinion and hold a discussion about it.

"What do you think about this one?" I ask him as we approach yet another piece, arms linked. He looks it over, pointedly, takes a minute to process his thoughts and turns to me.

"I think it reminds me of you." He shares sincerely. I roll my eyes playfully and decide to humor him. "How so?" I gaze at him, awaiting his answer.

"Well, it's beauty, of course." I snort and nod teasingly. Jay is so smooth, he possesses the power to turn absolutely anything into a compliment.

"I mean, it's breathtaking." He goes on. "But in a mysterious way... It leaves something to be desired. If that makes any sense." He clarified the best  he could.

I nod, trying to understand. "So, you think I'm a mystery?" I question with furrowed brows. "Well, yes." He spoke, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, while I try to figure out whether to be offended or not.

"And I... Leave something to be desired?" I ask with my eyes to the ground in guilt.

I make it a point not to talk about my past or my family, unless absolutely necessary. Whenever the topic arises with J-hope and I, I try to evade it very quickly and it's clear now that he's well aware of this. I feel almost sorry that he has to put up with it, but the past haunts me daily and I'd never want to revisit it.

And when getting to know someone, it helps to actually know them, not just the "mysterious" front they put up to shield themselves from getting hurt the same way again. But it's a defense mechanism that's been my life for as long as I can remember.

Jay catches wind of my concern and tries to back track a bit. "No! No, no, no. You're amazing." He lifts my chin gently and drags my attention to his face.

"Huh, I just put my own foot in my mouth, I didn't mean it that way." I don't even know which way  I meant it.

"You're just a little... Reserved is all. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Great. So I'm not a mysterious vixen, I'm just a frigid bitch.

I nod my head soberly to let him know that I understood, causing him to continue to beat himself up about it.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't mean to-"

"No, Jay, it's okay. You're totally right, anyways. It's fine, I promise. I'm okay." I say earnestly. "Let's just continue our date." I try to comfort him. He sighs, happy to hear that my feelings weren't hurt and we moved onto the next piece.

We even swung by places like Golden Gate Park and Muir Woods to hike amongst the Redwood trees.

I realize that, though neither of us are too fond of nature, it's one of my favorite places to be with him. Mainly, because we're   both pussies and we know how to laugh at ourselves.

"Jay! There's a bug!" I shouted, watching a dragonfly land on his shoulder half-way through the trail. He gave a manly shriek and swatted his upper body frantically as I watched on in fear.

"Did I get it?" He spoke wide-eyed, looking around wildly. I couldn't help the giggles that left my mouth at his expense. "Yes." I squeaked, tears coming to my eyes from the laughter.

"Oh, ha ha. It's easy to laugh when there aren't huge dragonflies chasing you." He huffed out a laugh of his own. I bring myself closer to him and wrap my arm around his waist and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder in turn.

"Yeah, I know. It's fun." I rubbed it in his face.

"Well, I would never do that to you." He tries to guilt-trip me. My head immediately snaps to him. "You literally did it like three days ago." I chided him. He cocks his head to the side, thinking back to the incident in question.

"Oh, yeah, I did do that didn't I?" He realizes. "Uh, yeah." I mock in a deep voice, making him laugh. "Well, it won't happen again. I promise." He said sweetly, delivering a kiss to my forehead and then my lips, causing my lips to spread into a megawatt smile and me to swoon briefly. We continue on the trail slowly until J-Hope suddenly pulls away from me with a quickness.

"Charlotte, your arm!" He yells pointing at my right arm. I look down at my right arm in a panic to find some godforsaken insect perched on me. I scream and swat at it furiously. When I finally rid it from my body, I'm heaving with adrenaline and I look up to find Jay struggling to hold in laughter. I sigh loudly with a whisper of a smile on my face.

"What happened to 'it won't happen again', huh? You promised." I confront him, slapping his arm playfully.

"Yeah, I think I mighta gone too far with the whole promising business." He waves his hand as if to do away with the idea and my jaw drops at his bluntness. He eagerly wraps an arm around me and assures me that he's kidding and we finally completed our hike.

Hoseok even bothered to make it to the She-Bang gigs and always showed his support.

The people at the Temple nightclub were so full of life, but glancing out at the crowd to see J-Hope among them, watching with such admiration, topped playing for any audience. For once in my life, I took pleasure in singing to someone instead of singing at them and Hoseok was the reason for that.

"You guys were great Charlotte." Hoseok approaches me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me on the cheek swiftly after we finish the set. I pull away from the warm embrace, enough to plant an innocent kiss on his perfect lips which quickly turned wanton and had each of us breathing heavily.

"You know, you don't have to tell me that every time." I say, my hands busy caressing the hair at the nape of his neck, his gripping my waist gingerly.

"Don't I though? I mean you're always so amazing, I feel like I have to." He said easily, staring into my eyes causing my insides to turn to mush. "You're too sweet." I pecked his lips and we sway to the music, one of the many things that have become natural for the two of us in the month and a half since we met.

We've grown incredibly close in such a short amount of time that it literally blows my mind. I never let people in, let alone make strong bonds with them and somehow I  was the one to approach Hoseok and I'm so glad I did. He drew me to him from the very beginning and I haven't been able to resist him since. But all the while, in the back of my head is the concern that things are definitely moving too fast. Or at least faster than I'm used to.

And I can't tell if I should take it as a good omen, that things are just going smoothly or that everything is going to blow up in my face when the whole "girlfriend" question comes up. We still haven't discussed my aversion to the word or my past in depth. I all but freeze up whenever the topic of family or past relationships come up in conversation, sharing only tidbits of the memories that cause me discomfort and deal with silently on my own.

And whenever I cave in on myself J-Hope is always there to squeeze my hand or kiss me and bring me back. Because he knows I'm broken, but he won't risk making me uncomfortable for the sake of knowing me on a deeper level and I almost wish he would. I desperately want to be able to share everything freely with him as he shares so much with me, I feel like I'm not pulling my weight in this relationship.

"Hey, Charlotte. You okay?" Jay hooks his fingers under my chin and gently pulled up so that my gaze was now on his curious face and not on the dance floor.

Right on time. J-Hope to the rescue.

I smile tepidly. "Why do you put up with me?" The words escape my insolent mouth without my permission. My eyes widen at my own bold statement, but I realize I'm actually desperate for an answer, I need one.

"What?" J-Hope's brows furrow, his eyes narrow curiously and his head cocks to the side. I was quick to reply, just looking for validation at this point and a sign that I wasn't wasting both our time.

"Why do you want me?" I pull him closer than the PG distance we've kept before and look him in the eye earnestly, letting him know I was looking for a serious answer that would hopefully give me the solace I was looking for.

He looks me over, still quite thrown off by the question, but gives an honest answer that makes me weak.

"Because...you make me happy." He says without a flicker of doubt in his voice or in his face, staring into my eyes fervently. I throw my body into his without warning and bury my face in his neck to hide whatever dumbfounded expression was on it. He immediately returned the strength of my embrace which gave me even more confidence.

This was the affirmation, the push I needed. It's easier said than done, but I will do what it takes to tear down this wall that is keeping me from being with J-Hope like I want to.

"You make me happy too Jay." I utter in his ear. "I want you too...You have to know that." I admit, trying to communicate that I wanted him as much as he wanted me, I just struggle to show it.

"I do now." He responded, a smile in his voice. He partially released me from our embrace to look me over again. "I should get you home now." He decided, looking over my shoulder to see where the rest of the band are stationed.

"No, let's go to yours." I rest my palms on either side of his face, sporting a familiar look of hunger. All this confessing has made me super needy. He recognizes it instantly and smirked down at me. "Sure thing, babe."

Finally, the best part of spending my days with Hoseok for these bliss-filled three weeks was what came at the end of each day. The mind-blowing sex.

Currently, I was caressing J-Hope's tongue with my own, while being held up against the stainless steel wall of the elevator of Nob Hill Place on it's way up to J-Hope's apartment. He took all of my weight, each of his hands clutching my ass firmly, my legs wrapped snugly around his toned waist as he made his way to the apartment door. He struggled slightly with sticking the key in the door and taking my weight. I pause sucking on his neck to offer a solution.

"I could just hop down, you know?" I chuckle in his ear. "Don't you dare." Is his reply as he finally gets the door to swing open.

He continued to kiss me, shutting the door behind him with his foot and carried me to the kitchen. He sat me on the edge of the counter of the island with his body snug in between my legs that were on two kitchen stools, no space left between us. I ripped my leather jacket off of my heated body and flung it across the room and J-Hope did the same with his, our lips never leaving the other's skin. That is until he removed my t-shirt, which was barely a shirt to begin with as it had an insane amount of holes to show off my lacey black bra.

J-Hope teased my nipples through my bra with his fingers whilst sucking on my neck, shoulder and chest making me gasp. As he worked my chest with one hand, the other was on my back making sure I didn't lose my balance and that he could grind steadily into my core all the while.

I was already a moaning mess when he switched positions, his mouth travelling to my breasts and his hand travelling down my stomach. I whimpered at the loss of contact when he separated his hips from mine, but he soon replaced them when he lifted my skirt, making figure eights against my clit, over my damp underwear with his fingers. I keen with pleasure at all of the stimulation and just sit back and enjoy.

"Take these off." He ordered breathlessly, tapping my pussy so I knew he meant my underwear. I untangle myself from him and lean back on the island so that I can remove my panties and I chuck those into the unknown as well. Finding my wardrobe is gonna be fun later. We resume our previous position and I spread my legs even wider for J-Hope as he collects arousal from my entrance and continued to apply pressure to my clit in circular motions. I gasp at the contact and J-Hope takes the opportunity to capture my lips in a sloppy kiss. It's like he's everywhere at once and my body can't get enough of him.

He teases at my entrance once more and groans against my mouth. "God, you're so wet."

I giggle before replying honestly, "I'm always wet for you." in a seductive whisper. I look him in the eyes wantonly as I take his wrist and guide his fingers inside of me. My eyes flutter shut as he thrusts one finger into me and then another. All I could hear was my heavy breathing and the wet sounds of his sinful fingers thrusting in and out of my pussy.  

"Such a dirty girl." I swallowed thickly as his breath tickled my ear before sucking the lobe of it into his mouth skillfully. "So wet for me, taking my fingers so easily into that perfect little pussy of yours." He continued, sending shivers down my spine and more wetness oozing out of my entrance at his lewd words.

"I wonder if it can take my dick this easily." I moan at the mere thought. We both know it can, I go to say.

But I can't respond as my back suddenly arches into him and my breath hitches once he enters a third finger into the race, curling them to hit my g-spot head on, filling me up so deliciously all at once. My hole clenched around his fingers hungrily, the sweet friction it created causing me to lose my balance slightly. J-Hope didn't mind, he actually preferred it.

"Just lean back, baby." He soothed, removing his hand from my back. I did as I was told immediately, my back coming in contact with the cold marble, causing me to hiss slightly. He didn't waste any time, pulling up a kitchen stool so that he would be seated right in front of my pussy, never bothering to remove his fingers from me, thankfully. He pulled my right leg over his shoulder so that I wouldn't be uncomfortable after he stole my footrest and began kissing down my thigh, making me squirm in anticipation.

Finally, he parted my lips and began lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. I shudder, instinctively threading my fingers in his silky hair and my back lurches off the counter. "Oh, yes, Hoseok...please." Pleased with himself, he hummed against my clit and increased the speed of his fingers thrusting away inside me. His other hand raking up and down my stomach and playing with my chest, leaving scorch marks wherever they went. My entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames with the amount of pleasure coursing through it. The fire took its place inside of me, pooling in my lower abdomen like fireworks ready to explode. I found J-Hope's hand and threaded our fingers together, while the hand in his hair gripped tighter.

"Hoseok, I'm gonna cum." I choked out in gasps. "Mmhmm." was his response as he sucked on my clit, his wrist moving in a blur like his life depended on it. My back arches and my eyes roll back as the tightly coiled spring inside me had suddenly released, sending my body into shock waves of pleasure.

My walls pulse wildly around Hoseok's fingers, that are working me through my orgasm diligently. I go limp from the intense explosion of pleasure, twitching occasionally, still receiving waves of my orgasm thanks to a hard working Hoseok. I resist overstimulation, by reaching down and halting his actions. He gets the message and leaves lingering kisses on my thighs and gives the same treatment to my stomach as he makes his way up my spent body.

He finds my face, delivering kisses all over it. I finally opened my eyes to see the white spots in my vision clearing up and a happy J-Hope. I grab his face and kiss him hard, that same fire from before travelling through both of us, he returns the kiss with the same amount of adoration. I'm finally able to catch my breath and break the silence. "Thank you." I whisper, still kissing him.

"You don't have to tell me that everytime, you know." He jokes, repeating my words from earlier.  "I think I do." I reply easily.

"It's not like I'm doing you any favors." He says matter-of-factly, pressing his hips to my core once again, letting me feel his boner through his pants, conveying that pleasuring me does something for him as well.

Of course it does. The saint.

I find the strength to sit up and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him with a newfound intensity. "Let's do something about that then, shall we?" He doesn't miss a beat, picking me up and carrying me to his room. He approached the bed backwards, sitting at the foot of the bed with me now sat in his lap. I grinded down on him and lick my way into his mouth, my juices coating his dress pants and offering delectable friction against my clit. He reciprocates every single one of my actions and lifts my skirt to grope my bare ass.

"Go to the headboard." I rasped out, he doesn't hesitate to do as I say and crawls his way backwards to the head of the bed, his back to the headboard. I remove my bra and skirt so that I'm finally fully exposed and Hoseok takes this a sign to do the same. He hurriedly removes his shirt and bottoms and throws them off the bed. I crawl on my hands and knees in between his legs and lie down on my stomach when I reach my destination. My nails trail up and down his thighs, over his briefs to message his dick, causing him to groan.

I take a hold of his waistband and tug, not wanting to wait just as much as he didn't. He lifts his hips off the bed and I pull them off the rest of the way to toss them behind me. There is already a good amount of pre-come collected around the tip, just as J-Hope suggested. I take hold of his fully hard cock and spread it around even more as I stroke it from the base to the tip a few times before taking the tip into my mouth.

J-Hope gasps followed by a groan of bliss, melting into the bed. He buries his fingers in my curls, staring as I take him to the back of my throat. I stare right back, making him throw his head back in satisfaction.

"You're so fucking sexy." He moans freely.

I hollow my cheeks and bob my head up and down on his cock a few more times before I grow impatient. I release his cock from my mouth and make sure it's nice and lubricated before I place myself in his lap once again.

I run his dick through my folds back and forth, listening to J-Hope's precious whines. I allow his tip to breach my entrance and prepare to take him all the way when he stops me.

"Wait," He grips my hand that's gripping his dick. "No condom?" He gives a very confused yet somehow giddy expression. I just giggled at him as he looked on in bewilderment, thinking I'm some kind of crazy person.

"I've been on the pill for as long as I can remember. Plus I'm clean, and you're clean...right?" I gaze at him from under my lashes, expectantly. "Yes, of course." He answers in a hurry.

"Then we're fine...I trust you." I all but purred, kissing him gently. That's the first time I've said that to him and I meant it with every fiber of my being.

I insert his cock again and sink down on it inch by inch, eliciting a breathless groan from each of us at the new feeling. I don't move immediately, genuinely just enjoying the feeling of him inside of me. Nothing separating us. Hoseok seemed to be really enjoying it as well, his eyes closed, his breathes long and heavy. I wrap my arms around his neck and give him another sloppy kiss full of fondness and admiration that I hope he felt. I start to grind my hips back and forth, slow and hard, whimpering into his mouth.

J-Hope took my hips in his hands wantonly, helping me grind even harder and faster, setting an exquisite rhythm. Needing to breathe, we broke the kiss and were now breathing in each other's air with our foreheads pressed together. After a while I broke the rhythm of our thrusts and began to move up and down instead, guessing by J-Hope's downward gaze that he was now watching his dick disappear inside me.

This offered another equally delectable angle where J-Hope would hit my g-spot 9 times out of 10 and I ended up a panting mess. We each started to work up a sweat my thighs beginning to burn and slow me down. J-Hope would have none of that as he gripped my waist roughly, forcing me up and down on his cock.

Each thrust delving deeper and deeper inside of me, I could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of me easily.

"Mmm, keep fucking me like that!...Yes, right there baby." I growled up at the ceiling as he hit that spot over and over again, causing me to see stars.

J-Hope picks up the pace for the both of us, coming closer to his climax, my breasts bouncing on display for him. My walls clench around him with gratitude and I moan loudly at the change of speed. Our bodies ended up moving down the bed so that Hoseok was on his back and I was properly riding him, arching my back and slamming my ass down to meet his thrusts and gaining a lovely friction on clit from his pubic bone. I bend down and suck on the flesh connecting his shoulder and his neck that is covered in a mouthwatering sheen of sweat.

"Fuck, Charlotte. You're gonna make me cum." He husked into my ear, the sexy sound going straight to my pussy that was gripping Hoseok's dick for dear life. My orgasm quickly building up inside me with a fierceness, ready to send me flying at any moment.

"Yes, please, Hoseok. Please cum inside me." I mewled into his neck like a needy child.

"Are you sure?" He sputtered out as if we even had a choice, he was so close already. Fucking up into me on top of me fucking down onto him, our rhythm a bit out of sync, but still pleasuring the other to no end.

"Yes! I want you to come inside me. Want you to fill me up with it." I whimpered desperately, my lips up against his ear. "I want you to shoot your load inside me and keep it in me for as long as I can until it just spills out of me." My legs begin to shake with pleasure as I feel my orgasm approaching and Hoseok's dick pulsating inside of me, ready to give me what I want, but he seems to be holding back for some reason. That reason is made clear when he whispers: "Keep talking." in a heady, carnal voice that made me moan deeply. 

It gives me the motivation to stave off my orgasm as well and enjoy the moment. I slow down my thrusts and grind down on him harshly, earning myself a beautifully, sexy growl from Hoseok. But he never protested so I continued to have my fun.

"I want you to fill me up with your cum so it's spilling out of me, running down my thighs and makin' a mess that I can lick off of my fingers later." I pull back slightly to demonstrate, stuffing my fingers in my mouth, lightly gagging myself with them to create saliva on my fingers that I bring down to rub my clit with all while making eye contact with Hoseok. He looks at me like I'm the devil tempting him to sin. "Fuck." He cursed under his breath. I bend back down to spew more devilish things in his ear, wondering how long each of us can last.

"Would you like that? Watching me lick your cum off my body? Or me taking it from my pussy to swallow down my throat like you came in there too? You've cum down my throat so many times, but this is different, baby." I speed up my thrusts again and so does Hoseok neither of us being able to hold on anymore.

"I want it, please gimme your cum, Hobi." He moans at the nickname. "I need it inside me, you just have to give it to me. You're being so good, lemme reward you. Cum in me 'cause you can...that's it, baby...Ugh, yeah, that's it!"

Hoseok sped up his thrusts, fucking up into me like a man possessed. And suddenly I was pinned to the opposite side of the bed, Hoseok gripping my hips roughly and pounding me into the bed without a care in the world. He finally came inside, his cock pulsating wildly, sending spurts of hot cum inside me, jolting me into my own mind-shattering orgasm.

All the built up tension releasing inside of me, dissolving into utter pleasure. As my body freezes and time stands still, I feel my pussy throb lusciously around his cock as countless waves of pleasure rocked through me. My eyes saw nothing, but hot, white light and everything seemed to disappear, there was only white noise and the intense pleasure that surrounded me.

This one seemed to last longer than normal and as Hoseok grew tired I had to beg him: "Please don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me." I chanted, near the point of crying from sheer euphoria. Thankfully he didn't stop, ever the dedicated lover, and my mind turned to mush for what felt like forever.

I couldn't tell when it all ended, but I regained my vision and was made very aware of my worn out, sore body. But my stomach wouldn't stop flexing, my body would twitch constantly and my pussy was continually clenching around Hoseok's cock, who I realize was kissing my neck. I turn my head to get his attention and he looks up immediately. We share a tender look before he gives me a long, passionate kiss.

He looks at me with a fondness when we separate that makes my heart race. "That was incredible." I say, still coming down. "You're tellin' me." he pecks my face repeatedly as he pulls out and I figured although it was the heat of the moment I'd keep my promises. I reach between my legs and collect any cum that spilled out and sucked my fingers into my mouth making seductive eye contact with Hoseok.

"You are something else, you know that?" He looked down at me genuinely impressed and...thankful?

"Of course I do. Now carry me to the shower, I'm not gonna make it by myself." He laughed, but followed through.

I don't know why or how, but I ended up letting Hoseok fuck me again in the shower. As if I didn't get enough the last two times.

His hand snaked it's way around my waist and caressed my stomach before making it's way to core.  I'm helpless to stop him, a victim of my own want for him. I continue to scrub my upper body as if he wasn't trying to kill me.

As I stood there choking on my own breath, my knees nearly giving out repeatedly, I doubt whether my body can take another orgasm so soon. "Hoseok, I-I don't know if I can-." Is all I can get out when he suddenly pressed my body up against the tile, my hands resting on it next to my head.

His lips were at my ear and his erection pressed against my ass along with his calloused hand working tireless circles into my sensitive clit. "You can take one more can't you?" His husky voice rasped into my ear. I was growing weaker by the second. I find myself nodding eagerly, sighing with need. "Say it. I wanna hear you." His sexy whispers fading into the spray of the water from the shower.

"I can take it." I convince myself breathlessly as he lines himself up with my entrance and graces my needy ears with those magical words. "That's a good girl." My eyes flutter shut and I open my mouth to release a silent scream when he pushes his cock into me in one swift motion.

My nails scratch at the tile as he grips my hips roughly and forcing my hips to collide with his at a quick pace. The sound of heavy breathing and intense slapping filled the air. "Ffffff-uck, yes, Hoseok." I hiss through clenched teeth. "Oh my fuckin' God, you fuck me so good."

He laughs raggedly. "You're Goddamn right." He gives up rubbing my clit to wrap his hand around my neck and squeezes gently, sending wetness rushing down my legs. A kink that we haven't explored, but one I enjoyed immensely. I even rest my hand over his and apply more pressure. He gets the message and squeezes harder, still allowing me to breathe while I rub harshly at my clit, feeling my orgasm approaching quickly. I was so sensitive I didn't need much attention to get aroused and I don't need much to get off and with Hoseok hitting my g-spot like he was, I was a goner.

"Oh my fuck-I'm cumming. Please don't fucking stop!" I gasp out through the strong hand choking me so deliciously. I arch my back into the shower wall, causing Hoseok's hand to pull my head back so that it's resting on his shoulder and he looks down at me as we watch each other come apart. I'm blinded by that rewarding white light as I'm pushed over the edge for the third time tonight, falling into an abyss of pleasure.

"Fuck! You're such a good girl Charlotte. Can I cum inside you again, baby?" He voice was rough and dark,  ready to snap at any moment. I nod frantically and mumble pleadingly.

"Yes! Please fill me up again, Hobi-Ugh!" I let out a scream/growl that echoed off the shower walls as I felt his cum fill me up in bursts, adding to my crippling orgasm. I was being shocked into silence as electricity sparked my entire body with lightning rods of pleasure. Hoseok's thrusts became sporadic, but just as forceful, sending lingering ripples of my orgasm through me as we both came down.

When he finally stilled his hips, his cock still buried within me, he removed his hand from my neck and took hold of my jaw instead, directing my face to his lips and devouring mine. I coughed when he released me, getting used to be breathing normally again. He pulled out of me and turned me around.

"Are you okay? Was it too much?" He fretted, studying my throat. "It was amazing. Don't you worry." I assure him, giving him a kiss of my own. "One of these days you're gonna fuck me to death." I laugh breathlessly. He makes a face as if he's fascinated by the idea and then bothered by it and then fascinated again. "I don't really know how to respond to that." He settled, making both of us laugh out loud.

I let him clean me up because I was too spent to clean myself after that and he carried me right back to the bed. Hoseok offered me an oversized t-shirt and some boxers of his. I didn't plan on falling asleep entirely because then I wouldn't be able to make my nightly get away that Hoseok always yells at me about the next morning. But after tonight's events, I had no choice, but to let Hoseok wrap me in his warm arms and drift away.

I wake up on my side, on the right side of the bed facing the bathroom with a sleeping Hoseok spooning me from behind. Each of his arms wrapped around my middle completely. I sigh contently before shifting to look at the window. It is still dark, the sky, a black sea, letting the San Francisco skyline light up the city for it.

Drawing my gaze lower to the alarm clock on the nightstand, I can see that it is 3:03 AM. Still time to catch a reasonably priced Uber home.

I gently take hold of Hoseok's hand attempt to unwrap it from my waist when his groggy voice travels to my ears.

"Where you off to now?" He suddenly questions, making me jump and then freeze in his arms.

"Uh, the hotel. The girls need me back for...something." Smooth.

"Oh?" He asks softly, unmoving.

"Um, yeah, they texted my phone." I rattle off the excuse without thinking.

"You mean your phone that's still in the kitchen?" He deadpans. Shit.

"Huh, um, yeah-" I cut myself off when his lips find my neck yet again and disrupt my train of thought.

"Look, whatever's going on in that pretty little head of yours, you can tell me...or don't...I just wish you would choose to stay here tonight. You did say next time. You've been saying that for weeks now...And I can make you whatever you want for breakfast...Please?" He pleads, laying it on very thick. His deep, raspy, voice mixed with the puppy dog eyes he cast down on me left me choice. I had to stay, anxieties be damned, I made a commitment to do whatever it takes to actually be with J-Hope. Even if it does seem impossible. I just wanted to please him in that moment and finally experience this for myself.

"Okay...Okay, I'll stay." I give him a peck on the lips to seal the deal and he smiles with pride. "Thank you."

"I'm just gonna text the girls, if that's alright."

"Of course." He replies without skipping a beat.

I leave the warmth of his bed to find my jacket and phone in the kitchen. It landed in the back on the floor. I fish my phone out of the pocket to find an onslaught of worried text messages from the She-Bang group chat, a few from Kyle and one missed call from Darren. I sent them a text back letting them know I would be staying with J-Hope tonight, I tell Kyle that I'm sorry for the scare, but not to wait up and I don't tell Darren anything. 

I almost feel bad for doing so, but even though it's almost been a month since our argument, we still haven't completely patched things up and I don't feel comfortable telling him where I'll be tonight and I don't want to lie to him. He'll most-likely find out from the rest of the group anyway.

Immediately I receive two good luck texts from Vicky and Carrie and one text that reads "Don't fuck it up....Good luck." from Leyah.

I shake my head and make my way back to Jay's room where he's sitting up shirtless in bed, reading something on his phone. "Hey." I utter, causing him to look up.

"Hey." He beams, putting his phone on a charger before offering me one and motioning for me get under the covers. Here goes nothing.

I climb on the bed and slide under the covers towards a waiting J-Hope who was ready to wrap his arms around me at a moment's notice. Tucking my body into his, I rest my head on his chest, his chin resting on my head. I just lie there still, eyes wandering, not really knowing what to do, still feeling a bit out of place. It's one thing to fall asleep with someone, it's another to go to sleep with them.

"You've never done this before have you?" Hoseok suddenly speaks, gauging my awkwardness. I laugh bitterly.

"Hah, yes, I have...It's just been a while." He hums in understanding, his chest vibrating against my cheek.

"Well, just relax. I'm here." He assures, tightening his grip on me, somehow bringing more comfort. I take the advice and take a deep breath. My muscles untense with the exhale and I feel lighter. "Thanks, Jay." I whisper.

"Anytime, Charlotte...Hey, where did Hobi come from?" He blurts out as if he'd been pondering it since he heard it first.

"I have no idea." I answer, my shoulders shaking with embarrassed laughter.

"Hm. Wherever it came from, you should call me that more often." He hums pleasantly.

"Deal...As long as you call me 'your dirty girl' more often." I bargain sheepishly, my face delving deeper into the crook of his neck.

"Oh, you got yourself a deal, babe." He plants a kiss in my mess of curls and I feel my eyes flutter shut once again.

+++++++++++++++++

The next morning, I'm automatically missing the presents of J-Hope's body next to mine. Then my nostrils are made aware of the mouth watering scent of, what I assume to be, pancakes, bacon and...eggs. I stretch out on the bed similar to how a cat would and make my way to the kitchen where I find J-Hope working his way around in only sweatpants. Good lord.

"Morning." I made my presence known, entering the kitchen and approaching his toned body. I hugged him behind, wrapping my arms around his middle and squeezing lightly. I'd always wanted to do that.

"Uh, it's noon, sunshine." he laughed as he flipped yet another pancake. There were like 15 of them piled high on a serving plate on the counter and numerous strips of bacon and eggs next to that. I just ignore his tiny dig and prove him wrong.

"No, I think you're the sunshine in this scenario." I come to stand next to him and watch him give a cheeky smile at my words. I'm guessing he couldn't come up with a witty comeback so he just bent down to kiss me warmly. I could get used to this.

"How did you sleep?" He asked, focusing back on his flipping and I make myself comfortable on a nearby stool. "Like a rock." I realize, aloud. I didn't have any dreams of any kind, I didn't stir whatsoever and I feel refreshed. That doesn't happen to me. "I haven't slept that well in a long time, actually." I share another epiphany.

J-Hope looks over his shoulder at me knowingly, almost as if he were saying "I told you so." with his eyes.

"Oh, shut up. That has nothing to do with me staying over here." I argue immediately knowing that it was a lie, I was just too stubborn to admit it.

"I didn't say anything." He chuckles innocently. I watch as he pour more whipped eggs into another pan on the stove. "You don't have to make too many eggs-" I go to warn him so that he wouldn't waste food.

"I know, you don't like them. I always make a shit ton of breakfast food to have left over." He explains.

"Okay, good. I've just hated them since I was a kid and sometimes I can't even stand the smell, it's crazy." I continue for no real reason, causing Hoseok to freeze with concern.

"Are you gonna be okay, or...?" He asks, pointing at the eggs. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm not allergic, just petty." I shrug.

"Cool. You know, I used to hate pickles with a passion growing up." He shares with his back slightly to me, stirring the eggs. I gasp.

"No! But pickles are so good!" I argue. "I know that now." He laughed. "Took some convincing though...and a lot of time. I used to just eat japchae in Korea. It's my favorite." Jay and I continue to discuss our favorite and least favorite foods as kids and how our habits have changed as he finished cooking and eventually served breakfast.

"Yeah, Maeve and I used to put ketchup on everything. It was gross, honestly." I laugh, reminiscing about the childhood I usually try so hard to suppress. And just like clock work, my smile fades as I'm reminded of the poor parts of that childhood and being ripped away from my best friend years ago.

"Your cousin, right?" I wince as Hoseok tears me away from my thoughts. "Hm? Yeah." I answer absentmindedly, no longer interested in the food on my plate. I push it around with a fork as Hoseok tries to engage me again. "You two were really close, right?" He continues, trying to carry a light conversation that was only making things worse.

I stare at the counter, trying to think of something, anything other than what we were discussing. "Yeah. Yeah, we were."

"We were like sisters." I utter without meaning to, words falling from my lips without permission. He nods at the statement. "Me and Dawon used to go to the Rockefeller Centre in New York in the winter time and ice skate." I smile at his memory until he brings the conversation back to me. "You and Maeve ever go to like, SeaWorld in San Diego or anything like that?"

I think back on all the trips Maeve and I actually took together. We went skinny dipping in the lake plenty of times, snuck into the surrounding country clubs to play pranks on the rich people, club hopping with our fake IDs. Almost all of them ended in run ins with the cops, but they were some of my fondest memories. No trips to SeaWorld or the San Diego Zoo existed for me or my family.

"No." I said curtly. He made a surprised face and took a moment before asking his next question. "Did your parents ever take you?" He knew he was taking a risk asking about my parents, I can tell by his teeth that begin to worry his lip immediately like he does when he gets nervous and his eyes that search my face for any signs of stress. He knows very well that they are a sore topic.

I can't begin to imagine why he would bring them up knowing this information, but I have a hard time trying to blame him or even be slightly upset at him for wanting to know more about the woman he's seeing. "No." I shake my head still looking down at my long forgotten breakfast. "We didn't really go many places with my parents." I said solemnly, hating not being able to control the situation.

"Oh...Why?" He was genuinely curious. Shocked that I actually answered a question about my parents, probably trying to see how far he can push it.

I actually thought the question over in my head, instead of just deflecting it like I always do. "We just didn't like to." I shrugged. "We didn't really get along...with them. It was always just the two of us."

"Hm, does that mean you lived together?" His tone was soothing, his eyes still searching mine for signs of retreat. I found myself being able to answer him easier after taking that first step.

"Yeah. My parents adopted Maeve after my aunt and uncle died in a car accident. She was 9 and I was 7." I say emotionlessly, still able to remember when she moved all her stuff into our house. Sharing a room until we grew sick of being on top of each other and my parents renovated the attic for her.

"I'm sorry." I see J-Hope's hand slide across the counter to cover mine. I let my eyes drift up to his which are filled with pity and it makes sick. I moved out of La Mesa to escape looks like those. "Thanks." I mutter removing my hand from his grip to throw my food away and clean my dish in the sink. I feel his presence behind me and then his strong hands resting on my shoulders, massaging gently.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He apologizes softly. All I can do is laugh bitterly because he thinks this is me shutting down, on overload from pushing myself to answer his questions. Not yet. He feels bad (per usual) for making the broken girl feel more broken.

And in that moment, something snaps inside me. I made a promise to fight for what I have with J-Hope and before I know it, I'm spinning around in his arms and the words just go flying from my mouth.

"My middle name is Avery and I hate it." Hoseok looks confused yet please with this new information. "Okay, it sounds pretty to me." He shrugs with a smile. I ignore the compliment and take a deep breath. I'm gonna have to dig a whole lot deeper than middle names to make this mean something.

"I was born and raised in La Mesa, San Diego. My mother's name is Tanya, my father's name is Chris...I don't like them, they're cunts." I share calmly, making J-Hope flinch that I could talk about my parents in such a way.

"They didn't know how to handle their daughter being 'different'. So,  they sent me away to some boarding school when I was 10." The first time they separated me from me from my best friend.

"I got kicked out of course and so they had to deal with me...when they sent Maeve to rehab they said it was my fault. That I got her mixed up in that stuff. I was only 14." The second time they separated us.

My voice wavered and cracked around the edges, tears burning the back of my eyes. I could no longer look at J-Hope too embarrassed for him to see me like this. "Hey," He bends down into my line of sight to get my attention. "You don't have to." He appeased, stroking my face. "It's okay, you can stop, I get it." No, you don't.

I don't allow myself to stop, ignoring his discouragements, I go on. "They always preferred Maeve to me, even before they adopted her, but I never held it against her...I haven't seen my parents since...since they kicked me out when I turned 18." The third and final time I was separated from my bestfriend.

"I was in an 'unsavory relationship' they claimed." I made air quotes with my hand while the other held me weight against the counter. "We started dating when I was 16 and he was 20." I could see J-Hope's eyes widen in my peripheral, but he just waited patiently for me to finish.

"They had been trying to get rid of me for years and when I became legal they didn't waste any time." I grimace at the carelessness displayed when they told me to pack my belongings and get out. Of course, they waited for a time when Maeve and I were actually apart and then attacked.

"So, I moved to L.A. with my ex-boyfriend." I still wasn't able to say his name aloud. "My parents cut me off from Maeve completely as soon as I crossed the threshold. She still lived at home and was still being controlled by them. I regretted leaving her behind and so a year later I went back to La Mesa to hopefully bring her back with me, but when I asked about her at one of the bars we frequented the-they told me...they told me she had..." I can no longer hold back the tears when I actually allow myself think about the time I wasted not going back for her when I should have and coming back home to find out that she had passed.

J-Hope pulled me into him and quickly wrapped his arms around me, my face now covered in tears against his bare chest. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. I've got you." He repeated, planting kisses in my hair. Even in a mess of tears I couldn't stop myself from continuing, it's like my mind was forcing me to tell the story as some kind of therapy for never uttering these words to anyone but the girls before. I felt the weight being lifted off my shoulders with every sentence.

"They said she had overdosed less than a week before I returned." I sniffle, getting my breathing back under control. "It was like I felt it, like I knew she was gone...and I had to see for myself...but I was too late." Jay shakes his head on top of mine and I can tell he desperately wants to say something, but holds back.

I separate myself from him for both our sakes and lean against the counter once more. He moves with me, hands on my waist, eyes on me at all times.

"My ex-boyfriend left me three years later...and I was back to being alone again." J-Hope's face contorts with something akin to shock once he does the math in his head. Yoongi and I were indeed together for 6 years. My first and last real relationship lasted 6 years. Even I can't believe it sometimes.

"I met the girls that same year and never looked back...but it really fucked me up." I reach up to cup J-Hope's cheek, he automatically leans into my touch and looks into my eyes with some kind of new found respect. The pity still deep rooted in his gaze, but who wouldn't pity someone after that?

"I really like you Hoseok and I wanna make this work, but there is just so much you don't know." He furrows his brows and grips my hand that is cupping his face and strokes it comfortingly. "So, tell me." He pleads, a desperate look in his eyes. "Tell me anything." I sigh before my brain rattles off the things I want him to know. That I need him to know.

"I've done some questionable things for money...and am still somehow a spoiled brat, I have commitment issues-fuck I've got a shit ton of issues. Trust issues, intimacy issues, anxiety. My ex fucked me up so bad I stopped believing in love." He winced at that fact, but it's about time he heard it. If this is what sends us going our separate ways, I'll be destroyed, but happy that he might find love with someone else who can fully reciprocate.

"The word girlfriend gives me nausea. You’re the only person I let call me by my full name. You're the first person I've had sex with that I've felt anything for since him. My biggest fear is going to jail, after that it's dying alone and I really thought that was gonna be me for a long time...until I met you. You're so fucking beautiful, Hoseok. You're strong and brave enough for the both of us and I can't thank you enough for putting up with me. And if you want nothing to do with me from now on I’ll understand...I'm sorry I can't be everything you want." I became a blubbering mess back in J-Hope's arms by the end of my speech. 

"Oh, Charlotte." He started as if he were scolding me. "You're already everything I want." His kind words just cause me sob harder into his strong chest.

"I don't deserve you." I whisper the familiar words to him for the first time.

"That's not true. We deserve each other." I just shake my head, knowing that I will forever disagree with his words.

[starspatter]

WIP Challenge

Tagged by: @summertime-children

Tagging: @astrologista, @atsushishelteredinmoonlitjasmine, @benditlikegumby, @cryptoriawebb, @ibmiller, @iceperialprincess, and @otherwise-uncolonized

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I'll also do what deta did and post comments + short fragments.  (Be warned it'll be very long though, and most of these are actually Pokémon fics since I was a much more prolific writer when I was younger, and that was the fandom I wrote mainly for.)  I also won't be including "Heroes and Thieves" on here (or any DC/superhero stuff really since I’ve essentially “done” everything I had planned for now), as *technically* it is all already completed in draft form, and I'd like to keep things a surprise for whenever I do end up posting~

Hero and Seek

“Well, we’re all together now, so let’s have some fun, all right?  Don’t worry, it’s really simple.  One person is the ‘demon’, and the others have to hide from him.” “Eh?  A ‘demon’?  But that’s scary!” Three pairs of eyes turned up to her in fear.  Those eyes, which screamed and streamed the stark color of blood the first time she saw them – not just from tears, but from the ‘monster’ they believed dwelled deep within.  She thought for a moment, then removed her scarf. “How about this then?  Whoever’s the ‘hero’ has to find and rescue the others.  It’s a very important Blindfold Brigade mission!”

I’ll start with the one Kagepro fic I did attempt at least, which I described previously here, but is basically about Ayano + the Meka Trio playing “Hide and Seek” for the first time.  (I actually had it originally titled as that but just came up with this new version on the spot lol I’m so clever~)  For some reason I’ve always been hesitant about reading/writing Kagefic, but I actually got a fair bit farther in this than I thought, so perhaps I should try to finish it someday... Princes and Frogs

“K-Koizumi-senpai… Um… Please go out with me!” Itsuki stared down at the tiny underclassman, watching a rose mantle spread slowly over her cheeks as she gazed back with shy, but determined hope in her bespectacled eyes.  The older boy could make out his own handsome face reflected off the lens, a virtual image embellished by sparkling hearts and stars.  With dim satisfaction and relief, Itsuki ensured that his bright, patient smile betrayed no hint of the weary sigh that whispered behind it.

This is an intro excerpt of the first chapter I planned to write for an ItsuHaru fic from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, which I only ever posted the prologue for.  ItsuHaru was my first obsessive OTP, and I still think about returning to this story someday (especially since I have now proven to myself I *can* finish a full chapter fic if I put my mind to it), but it’s been so long I feel like I’d need to refresh my memory of the whole series/am still holding out hope for a Season 3 to motivate me again. *shot*

Fall to Pieces

As Itsuki stared at Yuki’s vacant visage, his resentment kept building.  His hands clenched, rigidly gripping the edge of the table.  Somehow, it just didn’t seem fair.  That she could so easily ignore the madness fate had dealt them, never reveal any signs of suffering or bitterness towards her situation, and yet always, always wear the same damn expression on her face. How could she possibly stand it? He can’t stand it. (any more)

An ItsuYuki one-shot, where Itsuki basically blows up at her from pent-up frustration over having to wear a mask all the time and his hidden feelings for Haruhi.  The two start to form a connection over their respective “unrequited loves”/understanding of each other’s pain, and one thing leads to another...  Like “Heroes and Thieves”, this is in fact technically “complete”, since I actually used the leftover steam from the former towards finishing at least one thing I started a long time ago - although I’m still not sure I’m totally satisfied with it/kinda want to wait to figure out what I’m doing with my other ItsuHaru fics before I publish it by itself.  (Incidentally the working title comes from an Avril Lavigne song lol.)

Little White Lies

“Perhaps the best thing for the princess would have been to fall in love.  But how a princess who had no gravity could fall into anything is a difficulty--perhaps the difficulty.” -George MacDonald, The Light Princess - Haruhi Suzumiya was walking on air. Itsuki could tell by the way she glided into the clubroom, sailing like a paper airplane – or a balloon with an inflated ego to match.

...Yeah that’s as far as I got with this.  This was meant to be a “White Day” story, which is Japan’s “answer holiday” to Valentine’s Day, where guys reciprocate by giving gifts to the girls who gave them chocolates.  I always wondered how the boys actually responded in-universe, and I imagine Itsuki secretly stressing out a lot about taking care to not upstage Kyon, but at the same time wanting to sincerely express his genuine appreciation and feelings towards Haruhi - whatever they may be.  In the end, he settles on a copy of “The Light Princess” by George MacDonald, which I highly recommend reading since it reminds me so much of this pair, and in general is such a fun and snappy “tongue-in-cheek” take on the fairytale genre. Sora in Wonderland

But wait- this one was a bit different from all its brothers and sisters.  For one thing, it was wearing a fancy waistcoat with pockets- and sleeves that were far too long for it.  As soon as it passed by her head, it stopped and slowly turned its head around to stare directly at her with its huge circular yellow eyes.  Sora stared vacantly back for a full five seconds before the information registered in her brain and she suddenly yelled, “Hey!”, and sat bolt upright.  The Heartless panicked upon hearing her voice and fled at top speed across the white sands, headed towards an opening in the rocks; Sora jumped down off her perch and immediately chased after it, no longer caring about the heat.  The Heartless hastily disappeared inside the cave, and Sora soon followed after, determined to catch the freaky little thing and ask it some questions, like what it was doing on the island at this time, and where on earth did it get a waistcoat.

OKAY SO I TOTALLY FORGOT THIS WAS A THING but apparently I tried to write a Kingdom Hearts parody of “Alice in Wonderland” lmao.  I’ve never actually played the games (aside from half of CoM), but it was probably inspired by a crossover art my friend drew? ^^; Also Sora is a girl in this bc that’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. XP *shot* Note: The following fics are all Pokémon-related so I’ll just be listing them in roughly chronological order (from most recent to ancient, although they’re all pretty old at this point). Stranger

The elder slowly rose to his feet, gazing at the boy, the champion, the stranger.  “In all this time, why didn’t you come back?  You could have seen for yourself how she was.” Lance wanted to yell something defiant, like a child.  But he wasn’t a child.  Children were forgiven for their mistakes.  And he didn’t want to be forgiven. The professor’s ancient hand came to rest on the boy’s shoulder.  “It’s the way this town works.  We don’t talk about things that happen outside our own world.  Maybe it was too long ago – too late for you to understand.” Lance didn’t say anything. “At least talk to Delia.  She’s been wanting to see you.” “Sorry.  It’s too late.” “You’re a bastard.” “I know.”

So this looks to be among the last things I’d written before taking a long break from fanfiction circa... 2007, jeeze.  Over 10 years, huh.  But, I think it speaks a certain amount of maturity that it’s the piece I liked most upon rediscovering.  It’s based on an idea I once had that Lance was (unknowingly) Gary Oak’s father, and he was friends/rivals with Ash’s father, who originally won the title of Champion but relinquished it so he could be with his “wife” and kid (or rather, then-pregnant teenage girlfriend).  *Something* happened though (I forget what I had in mind) and he ended up dying, leaving Lance bitter and depressed so he refused to return to Pallet Town because of too many painful memories.  (Though he *cough* “comforted” their other female childhood friend for one night of drunken grief before he left. ;()  What I like most about it honestly is the parallels bw Lance’s relationship with Ash’s dad and their sons’, and that amidst all the angst I enjoyed portraying the earnest energy and optimism of Ketchum(?) senior (”like father like son” after all).  I was definitely inspired by Mitsuki’s father in Full Moon wo Sagashite/Maes Hughes from Fullmetal Alchemist by making him a total “dork dad” who’d brag about his (illegitimate) family on national TV during the championship tournament lol.

Ihavenoidea

Either way, I get the feeling this really wasn’t what I had in mind when I made my decision to quit training.  I mean that in an intuitive sort of way.  Like, sometimes I feel as if I’m not meant to be here, like my life should have ended up differently someplace else.  Perhaps this is just one of those weird inconsistencies I told you about.  Perhaps not.  Even after all that’s happened to me recently, I still can’t really be sure about it.

...No seriously, I have no idea where I was going with this.  As far as I can tell it’s written from the POV of Gary Oak, whom I’ve always had a lot of... “complicated” feelings towards.  It probably has something to do with another concept I’ll discuss next, although for some reason it sounds like I was going for some sort of AU? *shrug* By contrast to the above, it reads like a whiny teenager complaining about his life - which makes me cringe but is probably an accurate portrayal of who I was at the time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ This one was actually dated a little after the previous, so my best guess is it was some kind of vent rant where I would “give up” writing/creating and “childish” ideals for a while, as I was wont to do - but I still always come back to it somehow... RainbowMolly

Molly stepped out from the car and onto the dusty road, her heart beating wildly.  She could hardly believe she was actually here, of all places. The ride had been long and mind-numbing with anticipation, and now that they’d finally arrived at the destination, it all felt somewhat surreal to her. A small bear clambered out from the vehicle, joining her as she stopped to take in the rustic view that met her bright blue eyes.  She smiled and picked up her Teddiursa, cuddling its warm, fuzzy body close to her own. Her gaze traveled down the road which stretched in both directions, houses lining up against its margins. She followed it with her eyes towards a hill in the distance, on top of which sat what looked like a quaint little farmhouse with a windmill, turning in the summer breeze.  She breathed in the country air, catching whiff of a faint salt smell from an ocean in the distance. So this was Pallet Town.

...Why I didn’t actually name the file “Chasing Rainbows” - which was the title I had planned for this - I don’t know.  This dates back to an old idea I had where I believed Molly Hale from the third Pokémon movie was secretly the true “God” of the Pokémon world - in the sense that the entire universe was an unknowing fantasy of her own creation, similar to Haruhi Suzumiya (ok fine this was totally a crossover/rip-off of the same concept so sue me OTL).  In a place where children never seem to grow up and can go on grand fantastical adventures forever, Gary always struck me as an anomaly who willingly *chose* to forego such a life to pursue more “adult” interests by becoming a researcher.  So I saw him as filling the role of “Kyon” - the cynical narrator who was destined to ground “God” and bring her back down to earth, but at the same time be won over by her innocence and charm and learn to appreciate “kids’ stuff” again.  However, the Legendaries were actually aware of the power Molly holds, and so saw Gary as a threat to their very being - as by “waking” the dreamer and having her face reality meant erasing their kinds’ entire existence.  As the “apocalypse” nearly occurred in the third film, Mew and Celebi took on human disguises (in the form of May and Max respectively) to investigate Ash, who was able to calm Molly and “save” the world by “perpetuating” the delusion (and whom Molly totally has a crush on btw *shot*).  So it’s a bit of a love triangle lol, with Mew and Celebi (*cough* an alien and a time traveler, get it? *shot*) acting as mediators/interference.  (Although Mew might’ve secretly shipped Gary and Molly herself. ;O)

Betrayal

And these blades, these damned scythes that attached themselves to my arms when I was born, a curse upon me since birth, though it had not been apparent up until now.  They were covered with blood, the vital crimson liquid that flows through our bodies, now dripping down the steel surface in a webbed pattern, drops beginning to splatter the pure, emerald grass below.  The arm felt heavy and weak as I tried to lift it, as if it did not belong to me, but that was only a wishful thought.  I gazed calmly at it, inspecting the intricate designs the flow of the substance had created, as if it were an abstract piece of artwork. Tentatively, a pink tongue rolled out and caught a small droplet of it just before it fell from the sharp edge, just to convince myself that it was real.  The semi-sweet, metallic taste confirmed this.  I had indeed taken these men’s lives, just as I had taken hers.

So I remember this was written from the POV of a Scyther who seemingly went on a murderous rampage.  I only know that I wanted to give him an “Edward Scissorhands”-like story, since the idea of having such sharp objects attached to one’s limbs so that one could never directly “touch” another without being a danger is pretty tragic.  I suspect “her” was someone (a human?) he cared about but killed by accident, and after that he was only seen as a symbol of power/treated as a tool to incite fear before eventually rebelling against his “master”... Roses

“If you love someone, you should give them something that’s yours. That shows how much you care for them.” In the darkness, I pictured his smiling face, explaining to me as he wrapped a present for his girlfriend. His blue eyes were shining with a sort of spirit unfamiliar to me; I guessed, a feeling of love.

Another “dark” take on a Pokémon’s biology (I really liked writing explorations of those back then lol), this time of Roselia.  The idea was that a Roselia was so in love with her trainer that she would do anything for him - including allow him to cut off her arms so he could give them to his girlfriend.  I actually ended up turning it into a poem at one point:

Love is like a rose they say, And affection leads to grief they warned. For in the end love betrays, Its Beauty maimed by a poisoned thorn. You gave me pure water with a smile. Your cheerful face became my sun. I offered up my blood to you, And in return demanded none. Chop off my wrists, and tie them together. I’ll gladly bleed myself to death. In order to give you that which I hold most dear. My dear, my dear, Won’t you accept this bouquet? You take it, smiling warily. A blush creeps onto your face. And in those eyes I can see A garden of roses stretched out, Composing a wondrous place. Then you bound my hands in lace, And brought them to the girl next door. You presented them to her with grace. … My blood continued to pour.

Fanfic

She smiled at me, although something about her expression indicated something wasn't quite right.  I watched as she glanced over towards the west, her gaze lingering momentarily on the setting sun.  The glowing, orange sphere was slowly sinking behind the distant mountains, peaks cloaked in a pale, lavender haze illuminated by flickering beams of gold and scarlet cast across the horizon.

More accurately, I found this buried in a “catch-all” file where I had several (mostly finished) fics saved.  This was meant to be from the POV of an Eevee who had just evolved - supposedly into an Espeon due to happiness and bond with her trainer, which is what both wanted.  However, since it took place at sunset, she didn’t realize she had become an Umbreon instead, and her trainer ended up abandoning her for it. ;( It was a warm

Children’s shrieks and laughter echoed across the park as they flocked towards each other, and soon were chasing one another round the playground, weaving in and out between the swings as they partook in an innocent game of Tag.  One child was It; she was trying desperately to catch one of her friends so that they would take over the job instead.  Then it would be her turn to run away, for none of them wished to play the loathsome role of It.  Or was it because they feared being tainted by the person’s touch?  It must have been one of the two, for while she would struggle to reach them, catch hold of them, they would only flee, thoroughly enjoying the fact that they were vexing her.  Twice she nearly caught one.  Her fingertips were almost within reach of one of the other girls’ dresses, whose russet tresses were flowing wildly from the rush of movement and shining with golden highlights as the rays of the sun struck individual strands.  The target shrieked and shook her head, whisking her skirt free in time to escape capture, laughing with glee at the sight of the girl left behind, miserable and alone. 

Yeah I totally just went with the default beginning of the first sentence lol.  I guess this comes full circle with the first Kagepro fic I mentioned (although I’m not even sure I was aware back then that the Japanese version of the game literally called “It” a “demon”, which is even more fitting).  I believe this was part of a Pokémon series I was writing involving a creepy little girl and Mewtwo who would bring about the end of the world or something like that, but generally I guess I was just going for a “Catcher in the Rye” feel. *shrug* Golden Lights

The pale, rosy fingers of dawn were filtering in through the Granite Cave entrance, basking a small area near the opening in pinkish illumination.  Just out of reach of its expanse sat little Mika, huddled in the gloom of the shadows, watching the light creep steadily towards her as the glowing ball of fire rose slowly towards the East.  She knew about the Light that came from Outside.  There were plenty other small apertures broken into the cavern walls and ceiling that allowed some thin streams of gold brilliance to trickle through.  She had always done well to avoid them.  The brightness was like poison to her skin.  But they weren’t the Lights she’d had described to her by the old Crobat that always resided now deeper within the underground chambers, dozing now, most likely.  He wouldn’t awaken until night came round, and she did not wish to rouse him and perhaps disturb him from a pleasant dream.  She was very wise about things like that, being the young child that she was.  Still, she would have liked to hear a story to comfort her just then.

Last one I could find, about a Sableye who, like Icarus, literally “flew too close to the sun”.  In this interpretation I imagined that Sableye were creatures who could not stand sunlight at all, as it would cause their skin to burn.  But Mika (pronounced like “Mica”) always dreamed of going outside to see the “Light” anyway.  She was eventually tempted by Mew to leave the cavern under her angelic PROTECTion and step into the Light, who was acting as Ho-Oh’s messenger to “recruit” souls to “live eternal as an element of Ho-Oh’s Guarding Flame“, as the PROTECT faded and a “holy fire” began to spread.  I guess I was going for a Biblical/”Rapture”-esque reference.  (...Man I sure was obsessed with the endtimes as a kid. *shot*)

[ko-fanatic]

A Lilac Rose (Part one)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Pairings: KyoKao, TamaHaru

Summary: Kyo just knew today was going to be a disaster, but what was new about that? (Trans Girl Kyoya, Genderfluid Haruhi - male presenting)

Kyo crossed her legs and leaned back further in her seat, hand entwined with Kaoru’s as she surveyed the chaos that was this impromptu shopping trip. She was thankful that she had such accepting friends, most of them being queer themselves didn’t hurt, but this was going to be a nightmare; the mall trip all over again. Coming out had been nerve-wracking, of course, but this was the one outcome she didn’t think about; Haruhi was the designated “girl” to fawn over, after all…

“Not a girl,” He interrupted, Kyo’s head whipping around to face him so fast that she might’ve gotten whiplash. She knew what he was doing, of course, but that was a lot more unsettling than she thought it would be, “It seems the student has become the master.”

“Like you care about which gender you’re referred to as,” She smirked, leaning her arm on top of Haruhi’s head and putting her full weight on the small boy. A bit mean, perhaps, but certainly nothing that hadn’t happened before for less.

“Hey, get off, you’re heavy,” He huffed, trying to shove her off, though it was still playful, “Use your boyfriend as an armrest, not me.”

“What a rude thing to say to a girl,” Kyo commented, but did let her go, “Saying such things about a lady’s weight, you absolute brute. Honestly, the cheek.”

“You sound like your grandmother, Kyo,” Hikaru snickered, only to be cut off.

“Be careful back there, kids,” Tachibana cautioned, gaze flicking up to the rear-view mirror quickly before it went back to the road, “We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Sorry, Tachibana,” Tamaki chuckled nervously, “Everyone will behave.”

“Will we?” The twins deadpanned in unison, hints of mischief attempting to lilt their voices, but they kept firm. After all, if m’lord was going to speak for them like that, he was only inviting his own misfortune. His own hilarious misfortune.

“Of course!” Tamaki insisted, “After all, we’re all here today not only to give Kyo some much needed new clothes and makeup, but to show her that we support her identity and reward her trust and courage. That doesn’t include running amok and making more work for her.”

“Wow… Thank you, Tamaki, that was very touching,” Kyo said, completely sincere. It wasn’t exactly surprising, Tamaki was sweet to a fault, but there was always some sort of fear when it came to stripping off some metaphorical armour. Especially something as big as hey, I don’t identify as a guy; can you call me a different name and pronouns please.

“You’re our friend!” Tamaki enthused, “We’re all behind you. Girl, boy, neither, both; you’re Kyo, and we love you.”

“And if a single person misgenders you purposefully, we’ll kick their asses,” Kaoru added, giving Kyo a forehead kiss after brushing her hair away. He was careful with it, as she was still getting used to the extensions she had put in the day before, and she gave him one of her small smiles in return.

“So, what’s the first stop?” Hani asked, munching on a chocolate bar Mori had given him to get the small boy to actually settle down, like a true tired parent. Not necessarily negligent, but more just wanting their kid to sit down and shut up for once.

“The first stop is private,” Kaoru informed, “Kyo and I only. You guys can go get a milkshake, or something.”

“What are you doing to my darling daughter, you sinister twin?” Tamaki accused, finger pointing at Kaoru’s confused face. Huh. A weird turn of events.

“Daughter?” Kyo inquired, raising an eyebrow, “What happened to Mommy? Have you finally stopped referring to Haruhi like that?”

“Well, daughter is no longer fully appropriate for Haruhi, both because he’s my boyfriend – today, at least – and I… That’s pretty creepy,” He grimaced, cringing at himself as if it were a few years ago when he referred to Haruhi like that, when in reality it was only a matter of weeks, “Anyway, any girl in the host club can be my daughter to dote upon!”

“No thank you,” Kyo denied, a deadpan expression on her face, “I’m happy to stick to mommy, being referred to as your daughter is far too strange.”

“Well then… I can’t say mommy, because that’s also weird with me dating Haruhi and all… How about sister?” Tamaki offered, and when he got a nod of approval, he continued to try and get more information about the private location from Kaoru, “Now that’s sorted, WHERE ARE YOU TAKING MY LITTLE SISTER YOU EVIL TWIN!”

“Ouch, dude, too loud,” Haruhi groused, covering his ears with his hands and his mouth pulled into a grimace. In his defence, Tamaki had yelled right in his ear.

“But he could do anything to her without us there, Haruhi!” Tamaki whined, the only real response being several pairs of rolled eyes and Kyo wondering if she should be a little offended that Tamaki thought she should be protected from her own boyfriend. Still, this was Tamaki, and it was just how he expressed concern and care, “He could take her to some sort of kinky sex dungeon!”

The car swerved, Tachibana letting out a string of obscenities and Hotta screeching like a girl. The teenagers in the back were scared stiff for a moment or two, but luckily the swerve wasn’t too violent, and it was more out of shock than anything. At some point Kyo almost jumped into Kaoru’s lap – would have if it weren’t for her seatbelt – but was clinging onto his waist. He didn’t mind though, and just wrapped an arm around her shoulders in response, giving her a comforting squeeze.

“Okay, kids…” Tachibana began, sounding all too breathless for a moment before clawing back composure, “I’m going to mute the sounds from back there, okay? I never want to hear anything like that ever again, Master Tamaki – that’s my baby girl you’re talking about.”

“Yes sir!” Tamaki yelped, Tachibana pressing the button that essentially soundproofed the back of the limousine. It was there so that the people being chauffeured could get a little privacy, but Kyo supposed that blocking out Tamaki’s overprotective nonsense was also a good use of the feature.

“Look, Tamaki, if I were to take my girlfriend to a kinky sex dungeon, I’d tell you guys to go see a movie,” Kaoru deadpanned, running his fingers through her hair, “Getting milkshakes wouldn’t give us enough time. What can I say? My pretty kitty likes to play ~”

Kyo snorted, chuckling to herself as Tamaki screamed and Haruhi tried to block it out. Of course, if Tachibana could hear them then Kaoru would never have said that in fear of his instant and painful demise, but it was fun to watch Tamaki freak out and Hikaru mime throwing up. The only hint of regret came with Mori giving them both a disapproving look, but even that was kind of worth it.

“Look, Tamaki, calm down,” Kyo laughed, trying to get the blond moron to shut his mouth for a moment, “It’s nothing perverted, he’s just helping me pick out some… more delicate articles of clothing. Things I don’t want you guys to see under any circumstances.”

“No, no, I forbid it, young lady!” Tamaki denied, Haruhi trying to hold him back despite being smaller and weaker than him, his face a picture of strain and concentration, “I do not approve of this doppelganger seeing your underwear! He’ll think of all sorts of perverted fantasies about you, painting you in some hyper-sexualised, vulnerable light like that awful hentai we walked in on Renge watching!”

“He already has perverted fantasies about her,” Hikaru pointed out, smacking his brother upside the head, “I never wanted to know about the cat ears, you furry fuck.”

“Well that’s what you get for looking through my stuff,” Kaoru returned, shoving him back and straight into poor Mori, who luckily managed to steady the other boy before Hikaru ended up sprawled in his lap, “Karma – like myself – is a bitch.”

“If you guys are quite finished talking about mine and Kaoru’s sex life, we’re pulling into the multi-storey,” Kyo pointed out, an amused smirk playing on her glossed lips and the corners of her eyes slightly crinkled – genuine. Kaoru always melted at the sight, unable to help himself as his dearest expressed such legitimate happiness, finding joy in being able to tell the real smiles – or smirks – from the fake and overly polite. She just looked so beautiful, and he couldn’t help but pepper kisses over her cheeks.

Hikaru made gagging noises, obnoxiously turning in his seat and drawing attention to the fact that he didn’t want to see his brother and his girlfriend acting all sappy. In other words, drawing attention to the fact he was sulking. Luckily, that was something that both Kyo and Kaoru loved to exploit, and Hikaru either hadn’t twigged on that it only spurred them on or he couldn’t control himself. Both were equally plausible.

“Enjoy the milkshakes, I’ve got to help someone special pick out underwear that’s just as beautiful and delicate as she is,” Kaoru winked, grabbing Kyo’s hand and bolting from the car, their laughter intertwining wonderfully with Hikaru’s indignant squawking and Tamaki’s dismayed yelling.

This was going to be a disaster, as most things concerning the host club were, but they’d be damned if it wasn’t an enjoyable one.

[mandaating]

New Beginnings

written by @yeetyoteyoudabomb

steve rogers x reader

summary: reader is jilted, steve gets a second chance. you gotta read my dood lol.

characters: you, steve, tony, ex-fiance, Natasha, Wanda

word count: 1,971

notes: this is my first time doing anything like this!!!!!!! go easy on me, i had fun writing this tho and i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!

requests are open lol

I crumpled to the floor, right there in the middle of the common room. My hand was shaking, shaking so hard that my phone dropped to the ground. Tony looked over at the commotion, and suddenly, he was by my side.

“(Y/N)!” He wrapped me in a hug, trying to make me look at him and not the floor in front of me. I didn’t want to look at him, in fear that I would start to scream and cry and sob. “Come on, what’s the matter? Look at me. FRIDAY, do a scan.” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. His brown eyes were concerned, eyebrows pulled low.

“Seratonin and oxytocin levels are quite low, sir. Otherwise, Ms. (Y/L) is fine.” FRIDAY announced, and Tony visibly relaxed. My vision blurred, and I felt tears streaking down my cheeks.

“You have to tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you and I feel terrible just watching you cry.” He whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I said it outloud for the first time.

“Max broke off our engagement, said that he found someone else.” All of that fighting against my sobs was no use. My body shook violently, and Tony just held me. He took a breath in to talk, but I involuntarily snorted. I pulled back a little bit, and Tony looked like he was trying very very hard not to laugh. Seeing his face set in such a serious expression made me laugh, and soon enough we were just laying on the floor laughing our asses off. Every time we made eye contact, it just made us laugh even harder. Right when it seemed like the giggles were leaving our systems, Steve walked in, and his expression of ultra confusion made us laugh even harder.

“Oh my God, Steve!” I clung to Tony and just pointed at poor Steve, who looked extremely concerned now. He walked over and knelt down so he was on our level.

“Are you okay?” His sincere words wiped the smile off of my face. I felt the tears on my cheeks again, and everything came crashing back down again. Tony recognized this, and he just looked at me with sad, sad eyes.

“Not really.” I stated, and my phone dinged. Another text. Probably containing more bad news. I picked it up, the newly cracked screen symbolizing exactly how I felt in that moment.

Can I have my ring back? It was expensive.

I felt tears prickling the back of my eyes, threatening to spill over. The diamond ring that so prettily decorated my finger meant nothing and was to be returned. Tony and Steve wrapped me in another hug. After a little bit, Tony pulled back and left me in Cap’s embrace. He gently pried the phone from my hands, and his scoff sent me into a fit of louder sobs. It got to the point where I couldn’t stand anymore, and Steve just scooped me up and brought me to my room.

“Do you want me to go, or - ” I pulled him down next to me and wrapped my arms around him. I felt him stiffen underneath my touch, but then soften.

“Please stay.” I begged, tears leaking out of my eyes. Who knew one could cry this much? He held me, and kissed my hair.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to, doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How about this one? It’s sexy. All eyes on you.” Natasha shook the dress in front of me, and I cringed. It was red, backless, strapless, and dignity-less. We were having a party in honor of my becoming an official Avenger.

“I guess.” I shrugged, and Natasha tossed it at me. Before I could catch it though, it was encased in a red light and flung back at her. Wanda shoved a white, off the shoulder, curve-hugging dress at me instead.

“This one is more understated, but still sexy.” She argued, and Natasha waved her off.

“Back and no straps is the sexiest don’t even at me. And plus, (Y/N) has red pumps but not white ones.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Wanda. She sighed. Wanda searched through my closet again, and fished out a dipped blue sundress, with a nipped in waist. Her face lit up, and she looked at me.

“We all know Steve would like her in this!” I blushed, and rushed forward to slap her.

“Wanda, shut up! You’re so loud!” They just giggled. It was a well-known fact among everyone in the team that after my breakup with Max, I had started to develop feelings for the super soldier. We spent our evenings together, trained together, teased each other, and commonly pranked each other. I snickered just thinking about the most recent prank, where I put red hair dye in his conditioner just to prove that he did use it. He had been vehemently denying that fact until I had -

“He clearly likes you back so it doesn’t even matter who hears.” I blushed, realizing that I had already started to daydream about him. Natasha said matter-of-factly, already digging through my shoes to see which ones matched the best. She turned around, waving a pair of blue ballerina flats around with flourish. Wanda nodded.

“He’s always talking about you.” She smiled, and I pulled the blue sundress over my head. I looked at them, not believing a word they said.

“It’s true, it seems like I am you based off of all of the things I know because of Steve.” Nat rolled her eyes. My heart was pounding. No, it wasn’t true. Think about the last time you fell in love. It wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

“(Y/N), just because that douchebag Max jilted you doesn’t mean that you can’t try again with Steve. He’d never do that to you.” Wanda put her hand on mine.

“He’s too nice. If anything, you’d be the one to break his heart, not the other way around.” Nat rolled her eyes. “Now quit sitting around waiting for him to make a move. Let’s get downstairs.” We laughed. I laced up my Chucks and headed out the door side by side with Wanda and Nat.

The second we stepped into the party, it felt like everyone’s eyes were on us. The only person I could look at though was Steve. He looked stunning, which wasn’t fair, seeing that he was just wearing a blue plaid shirt and khakis. His hair was still slightly red from the hair dye, and I giggled just thinking about it. But before I could take my place by his side, Tony pulled me to him and shoved a shot into my hands.

“Congratulatory shots!” He tipped his into his mouth, and I followed suit. How could a party thrown by a Stark be anything other than fun and full of drinks? Steve caught my eye and winked. I made a silent promise with my wide smile to see him later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing my second drink of the night, I excused myself from the party and went out to the nearest balcony. It was getting way too hot in there. Tony must have turned up the heat or something, because my body really couldn’t handle it. As a way to cool down, I gathered some water out of the air using my powers, and played around with the sphere that formed. The night was particularly quiet. Yes, New York was the city that never sleeps, but there wasn’t as many sirens as there were normally. Meant no work for us. Although, sometimes, I wished that -

“Needed some quiet as well?” I whipped around and flung the water in my hands at the speaker. Poor Steve stood there, water drenching his head and shoulders, a light smile dusting his lips. I laughed at his expression.

“I’m so sorry!” I touched some of the water droplets on his face, willing them to become gas once again. He just smiled and batted my hands away, leaning against the railing. Turning towards me, he smirked. Goddammit, quit being so...I don’t know, pure? Hot? A wave of affection and love washed over me, filling me with warmness.

“I was actually looking forward to talking to you, but I can see the feeling isn’t exactly mutual.” He teased, and I slapped him.

“Well when you sneak up on me like that - ” He turned and pretended to leave, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Steve I was just kidding.” We smiled at each other, and suddenly realized together that I was still holding his bicep. Flustered, I let go and turned towards the streets below us, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how deeply I was blushing. It was silent for a couple of minutes.

“I know it’s a jerk move to bring up Max, but I just wanted to say that maybe it was for the better.” When I turned around to glare at him, he panicked and quickly backtracked. “(Y/N), I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it in a way that it gave me a chance with you again.” He scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. I just stared. A chance with me again? A chance? Oh, Steve. I wrapped my hands around his neck, forcing him to face me. He immediately pulled me closer to him, and I smiled. It was like an instinct. “I - (Y/N) - ”

I shushed him with a kiss. There was no hesitation when he started to kiss back, nothing unnatural about it. It was as if his lips were molded to fit against mine. These weren’t like the kisses that Max and I shared, not at all. Steve’s were patient, sweet, hopeful, everything I wished I had with Max. His tongue made its way into my mouth, and I let him. He pulled me closer, somehow, and I clung to him like I needed him to live.

“Finally! Damn, I thought I was going to have to lock you guys in a closet together!” Tony’s voice cut us apart quicker than he had appeared. When I looked over, he stood at the doorway, a confident smirk decorating his face. Steve groaned and pulled himself away from me, just a little bit more.

“Tony, can you mind your own business?” I was still somewhat breathless from our kiss, and all I could do was look back and forth between the two men. Tony noticed how flushed I was, and backed off. But not before snarking to the both of us, which deserved an eye roll.

“If you don’t take her to bed tonight I will!” And the doors slammed, ending our precious time with the great Tony Stark. The man tired me sometimes. I turned back to Steve, and his cheeks were bright red. Cupping his face, he turned to look at me, and I almost laughed at his expression.

“Steve, it’s alright. We’ll start with dinner tomorrow, take things slow.” He smiled, and kissed me again. I could get used to all of this kissing. He pulled away and looked me in the eye, his expression almost making me tear up. There was so much pure love and affection that I felt like the most special girl in the entire world. He smiled at me, a hopeful smile.

“Whatever you say. You’re the captain between us.” And I kissed him again, because for as long as we were together, I was going to look back on this night like it was the most perfect night ever. Which it was. How could anything not be perfect when Steve, the man of everyone’s dreams, was kissing me breathless, promising the start of a beautiful relationship?

[pikemoreno]

Secrets and Stories Part 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, mention of a gun, some violence, sooo much fluff

A/N: the last part!!! yayyy! hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it

Part 1 | Part 2

A nervous, excited energy seemed to permeate the neighborhoods. High-school kids all across town could be found pacing in their rooms— the girls doing and re-doing their hair, the boys fumbling nervously with the ties around their necks. It was Winter Formal, not the most important night of the year for Midtown’s students by any means—Prom and Homecoming took that spot— but still a night to be your best, nonetheless. You and Peter were each in your rooms, three miles apart, each feeling as though you were more nervous than anyone in the history of winter formals had ever been.

His mind was racing. What if he embarrassed himself— again? What if he tried to kiss you and you rejected him? What if you thought he was a bad dancer and never wanted to be seen with him again? What if you already knew he had a crush on you and only said you’d go with him out of pity? What if he accidentally let it slip that it was him in that Spiderman suit that day?  Or what if it was a perfect night? He gulped, sincerely hoping for the last one.

Your mind was racing. What if you embarrassed yourself— again? What if he tries to kiss you and you freeze? What if you try to kiss him and it makes him uncomfortable? What if you trip on these damn heels in the middle of everyone? What if he knew you liked him and asked you to go with him as a joke? You shook that out of your head. Peter wasn’t that kind of person.

Then there was a knock. You could see your eyes widen in the mirror as you finished touching up your makeup.

“Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer,” you yelled to your family, running to the front door as quickly as you could in heels and quieting down as you put your hand on the doorknob. Deep breath. You opened the door, forcing a calm appearance, to reveal Peter Parker and, dang, he cleaned up nice. There was just a moment of extended silence as you both stood, mutually in awe of each other all dressed up. Peter panicked when he realized he was staring and quickly broke the silence.

“You look really nice,” he stammered out.

“Thanks. So do you… Really good.” His face lit up with pride. It was then that you heard shuffling in the other room and you knew what was coming— a lot of gushing and pictures. You couldn’t subject Peter to that quite yet. You stepped past the front door to join him outside and quickly shut the door behind you, leaving Peter with a very confused look on his face. Before he could ask, you shook your head, uttering a “Just trust me” as you grabbed his hand and walked away from your house. You didn’t think twice about the action, but it brought a blush to his cheeks.

Midtown’s gymnasium was rather cheesily decorated. Glitter and sequin doused paper snowflakes and streamers hung overhead, balloon arches of blue and white welcomed visitors, and the “melted snowman” punch, while a cute— though slightly childish— idea, it now ironically reeked of several different types of alcohol.

The music choices were rather mediocre as well, you found. The songs flipped between top 40 radio and overly emotional slow dance songs with a very corny Christmas song thrown in every now and then. It made you cringe, leaving you and Peter left yourselves side-lined from the dance floor, talking and having a laugh at the outrageous dance moves of some of your more intoxicated classmates. Another slow dance came on. It wasn’t terrible, you thought, one of the better songs that’d been played so far. Peter stood up and held his hand outstretched for you, you glanced up at him

“Shall we? It’s kind of why we’re here after all.” You joyfully nodded, taking his hand and letting him take you onto the dance floor. He gave you a small spin as you joined in with the couples that were already dancing, sending you into a fit of giggles. You watched him look around at everyone who was already dancing, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing and, when he finally fell into rhythm, he turned back to see you fondly shaking your head at him.

“What?” he asked, looking down a bit, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing,” you consoled, “It was just cute.” He let his head dip down a bit further in his flustered state before looking back up at you, the brightest of grins on both of your faces.

There was a comfortable silence as you swayed to the music, content to be near each other, enjoying each other’s company. Ned was throwing Peter thumbs-up’s and winking over your shoulder. He responded with a look that said “knock it off before I crack up and screw this whole thing up” which made Ned end his fun and go saunter off to get a drink.

After that ordeal, Peter spoke up again with a huff of a laugh, “Can you believe this started because I knocked you over?”

“Please don’t remind me,” you laughed, “I’m still so mad at myself for being so awkward…” You tacked on the ending after a moment of debating, “… in front of the guy I like.”

“I’m a bit awkward too, if you haven’t noticed. I embarrass myself all the time,” he started, but then it clicked. “Hang on. You— You liked me?” he spluttered out in disbelief.

You started to respond, but it was then that he saw it over your shoulder: one of your female classmates being quickly taken out of the room. It definitely did not appear to Peter to be in any way consensual, the tipsy, giggling girl was harshly dragged out of the gym and down the hall by her boyfriend, who had been known for… That sort of thing in the past. Peter glanced to everyone else in the room, hoping someone else would’ve noticed— anyone who wasn’t having a moment with their crush. But they didn’t and he couldn’t let it slide. He dropped his hands from your waist, with an “I’m sorry” and “I’ll be right back” and raced out of the room, stripping off the black suit and white button up to reveal the red and blue suit underneath once he was out of sight. Ned would’ve yelled at him if he had known, but he had decided to keep his Spiderman garb on underneath his formal clothing, hoping to find the courage to tell you it was him with The Bands that day and to thank you for what you did for him. Ned would’ve once again reminded him that the “People Who Know Peter’s Secret” club was closed to new members, but he couldn’t deny the suit was coming in handy now. The footsteps ahead of him sped up once the captor realized he was being followed and Peter willed his feet to keep up as they rounded the corner and high-tailed it outside.

Meanwhile, you found yourself alone on the dance floor, watching as the boy you just confessed your feelings to ran out, completely unexplained. But it didn’t take long for you to leave your sulking on the dance floor and go after him, following the sound of shoes tapping against tile and… Clothes strewn across the hall? You picked them up as you dashed outside, searching for movement.

The girl in the attempted rapist’s arms was starting to come out of her tipsy state and was getting more and more panicked as she was half-dragged through the parking lot; she began crying out for help.

“I got you, I got you,” Peter yelled back as he chased after them, shooting webs left and right in an attempt to hit the gross boy. As the boy made it to his car, one of the webs hit their mark, sticking his right hand to the car door. He lost his grip on the girl and she fell to the ground. She started to sink into hysterics as she crawled away to safety. Peter ran over to her to check on her, not noticing the boy’s left-hand fumbling in his pocket.

The next thing he heard was a cry of, “Look out.” Your voice. The next sound was a loud bang. A gunshot. Then it was metal hitting concrete and metal hitting bone soon after. Peter looked up slowly, not sure he wanted to see the outcome, but he was surprised to find you with the boy’s gun in your hand, him knocked out beside you. He ran to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, but you almost weren’t,” you replied, panting. “Go ahead and go inside Olivia. I’ll find you, ok?” The shaking girl didn’t have to be asked twice; she nodded and bolted inside. You watched her re-enter the gymnasium and then turned back to Peter.

“(Y/N) (L/N), saving my life again,” Peter shook his head.

“Peter Parker, needing his life saved again. Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero or something?”

“How did you know— I mean, you must be mistaken I’m not— I—” he took the mask off, revealing eyes that looked rather defeated, mouth turned up in a half smile. He gave a weak “Surprise.”

“Hardly,” you giggled, “You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

“How did you know?”

“Would you like an example or a list?”

“Oh no,” he groaned, but you continued.

“First, it was the voice. You really ought to change your voice while you’re in the suit. There was also those,” you pointed at the pile of discarded clothing on the ground. He laughed. “And that smile.” You brought a hand to his cheek. His laughter subsided, and he looked nothing short of awestruck. “I would know that smile anywhere— across the chem lab, down the hall, almost hidden under a Spiderman suit. I’ve thought it was the nicest smile I’ve ever seen for quite a while,” your thumb brushed against his skin, dangerously close to his lips.

That was all the confidence boost he needed. He leaned in and kissed you quickly, hardly even giving you time to kiss him back.

“Is that it?” you asked, bringing your other hand up to his face as well. It was your turn to initiate the kiss and, unlike the first one, this one lingered. It was sweet and so long awaited, it made your head spin. You eventually pulled away as a couple of smiley messes. It was right about then that Peter remembered that you were in a parking lot next to an unconscious rapist while a dance ensued inside.

“Shall we call the police and then maybe try to enjoy the dance without me running off this time?”

“Sounds like plan. Though you might not want to go back in like that,” you replied, stepping past the captor to toss Peter his clothes. You couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as you called the police to tell them to pick up the attempted rapist. He ran his hands through his hair, fluffing it up from where it had been pressed down under the mask and then beginning on his clothes. You couldn’t quite believe this was your life now: saving Spiderman, going to dances with Peter Parker. He caught you watching him as you hung up the phone and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander as yours was. How did he get so lucky as to have someone like you in his corner— whether he was Spiderman or Peter Parker.

As he adjusted his suit jacket on his shoulders, he held out his hand for you and you happily took it. Police sirens could be heard in the distance as the two of you strolled back toward the gym, discussing his double life— with you giving him input on how he could keep it that way.

“No more secrets,” he told himself, completely relieved.

“This is going to be a good story,” you thought, incredibly excited for the future with the boy next to you.

Marvel Taglist: @petxrparks @pbnjparker @asphalt-cocktail @littlecrazyfangirl-98 @peachesandparker @il-rose @farfromjustordinary @starkravingparker @darlintom @hazhasmycoffee

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Tearing Down Sandcastles Part 2

Summary: Sofia feels stuck in life and has for the better part of two decades. Now she’s nearing her 30th birthday and her luck begins to change when a handsome actor accidentally destroys her niece’s sandcastle. 

Chapter Summary: Sofia lets her inhibitions down for the first time since college. 

Warnings: Drinking, mild sexual themes, mild anxiety

           There was a price to be paid when you ask for a change in scenery. I’d been hoping for a vacation for over a year and now that it was plopped in my lap, I was suddenly going against everything I usually would.

           I was walking towards a man, dressed in my sister’s little black dress, wearing her heels. I wasn’t sure what I was doing but it seemed risky when I consulted my anxious brain. But that was the same brain that told me to stay home each night and stick myself in a blanket burrito while watching Netflix until midnight. It wasn’t the healthy part of my brain so maybe I was doing the right thing. That remained to be seen.

           Sebastian turned around as I got closer and his jaw visibly tightened as he swallowed. “Hey.” He breathed.

           “Hi.” I was just as starstruck. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I could smell his cologne and I felt instantly intoxicated as I inhaled.

           “What’s your drink?” He cleared his throat and a small patch of pink formed on his cheeks.

           “Uh, just a mojito is fine,” I answered and sat down at the bar next to him.

           Sebastian waved the bartender over and ordered for me. He was already nursing what looked like a whiskey. “How was dinner?”

           “Good, the food here is super fancy but amazing. I mean, I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be everything seems to be five-star here.”

           He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this vacation for a while.”

           “Me too.” I thanked the bartender as she placed the drink down in front of me.

           “What do you do?”

           “I uh, just office administrative work, then I bartend a few nights a week.” I shrugged. “Pretty boring compared to your lifestyle.”

           “Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You know who I am?” He seemed surprised. Maybe because when people knew who he was they jumped on him instantly.

           “My sister told me. She’s a director so I guess one of her friends directed a movie you were in.”

           “Oh…oh.” He suddenly realized something. “I knew you looked sort of familiar, you’re Erica Valdez’s sister aren’t you?”

           “Yeah…I guess we do look alike.” I smiled slightly. “She’s great isn’t she?” I didn’t usually drop my sister’s name. More often I talked about how awesome her work was instead of saying she was my sister.

           “Definitely, I love her movies. Shoot, I hope you don’t think I’m trying to use you to get a role. I'm definitely not, I promise.” He laughed.

           “Nah, I don’t have any pull over that.” I shook my head but smiled. “I’m sure she’d give you a role anyways, she thinks you’re a good actor. I don’t really see many movies so I don't really know you from anything. That seems super bad…” I winced.

           “That’s alright. It’s sort of nice when people don’t know me. It makes me feel like they’re more genuine and not just trying to get something out of me.” He took a sip of his drink.

           “That must be hard, making friendships. I’d be afraid everyone was trying to use me or stab me in the back.”

           He nodded. “That’s Hollywood for you. It’s my dream job though so I can’t complain. And I have sincere friends, they’re just harder to find sometimes.”

           I traced the rim of my glass. “So…thanks for inviting me out,” I said quietly.

           “No problem, thanks for meeting me. You seemed really nice on the beach and you’re beautiful so I’d probably kick myself if I didn’t ask.” He admitted.

           I bit my lip and tried not to blush. “You’re sweet.”

           “I try.” He gave me a sly look that made me laugh. “Honestly though, it’s nice just spending some stress-free time with someone like you. You just seem…like an awesome person.”

           “Oh, well…” I shrugged and ducked my head in embarrassment. “You do too. I mean, you were so cute with Adriana. I guess every woman is looking for a man who’s good with kids. It’s probably an instinct thing.”

           “I feel like being an actor you have to be super good at playing pretend. Kids are the masters of it so I could learn a few pointers from them.” He explained. “And goofing off is super fun when you’re an adult.”

           “No kidding, it’s definitely an escape. I love babysitting her because she comes up with all these wild imaginations. But Erica’s always been imaginative so I know where she gets it. I don’t think I was ever as creative as they are.”

           “Everyone’s creative in their own way.” Sebastian assured me.

           “Maybe…” I took a few sips of my drinks as I processed our conversation. He seemed so thoughtful and well spoken. He certainly wasn’t like any guy I’d met before.

           He smiled and fixed his sleeve. The fabric rustled and I caught another whiff of his heavenly scent. “Want to dance?”

           When was the last time I danced with someone? My friends at the club when I was drunk and twenty-something? Prom? I cringed at the thought of making a fool of myself on the dance floor.

           “Uh, sure.” I nodded and reached down to slip my heels off and tuck them safely under the barstool. I took Sebastian’s hand like I had on the beach. It was warm and he had a gentle, but assuring grip.

           I followed him to the dance floor where other couples were already dancing. A DJ in the corner was playing popular Spanish club music, a few songs I’d heard and the rest were waiting to be discovered by the rest of the world.

           “I don’t really dance,” I admitted as Sebastian placed his hands on my hips. I cautiously wrapped my arms around his neck and felt a tremor go through my body. I wasn’t sure if it was trepidation or thrill.

           “That’s okay, I don’t really either.” He shrugged and started to move like he did dance frequently.

           I tried to loosen up a little and follow his lead, moving my hips with the music. I exhaled softly and locked eyes with him.

           “When do you go back home?” He asked.

           “Friday.”

           “Damn, I’m going back Sunday.” He seemed disappointed that I would be leaving earlier. “I know you probably work a lot but if you have time when we’re back in New York…”

           “I would love to spend time with you.” I wasn’t even sure who was talking for me anymore. It was as if there was another person standing behind the microphone, my more assertive self, speaking for me.

           His face lit up. “Awesome, yeah, I’d like to get to know you better.” He agreed. “You seem really down to Earth.”

           I let out a small laugh because that was the opposite of who I was. Personality wise, I was pretty mellow but I couldn’t go a week without a full-blown panic attack. Luckily I’d gotten better since I was a teenager. Usually, I was plagued with crippling anxiety all through high school and college. But after some intensive therapy and medication, I was able to suppress a lot of it. It seemed unfair not to tell Sebastian upfront, especially if he wanted to see me more. But I had a hard time just blurting out ‘hey, by the way, I’m an anxious mess most of the time’.

           Then he pulled me a little closer and I lost my train of thought. He was utterly intoxicating, every inch of him. It was like he was a drug that made me lose all my self-conscious rambling thoughts. For a few songs, I didn’t even think about how I looked. I could only focus on him. I was completely lost.

=============

           After dancing, we had a few more drinks, danced some more, took a few shots, and danced the rest of the night away. Eventually, the bar closed and we stumbled over to his room. I had never once in my life gone home with a guy after the first day. Granted it was a hotel room. But I still felt like I was crossing every line I’d ever set for my adult self.

           But as if I was vicariously living through another person, I ended up kissing him. Kissing led to making out which led to almost third base. Then we both fell asleep, completely wiped out by the night. After all, we weren’t twenty-one anymore. My last thought before I slipped into sweet drunken sleep, was how my sober, hungover self was going to kill my dumbass in the morning.

Note: Yes I DO know what Sebastian smells like. It’s amazing.

Masterpost