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#I've been listening to his playlist and thinking of him for days
misc-obeyme · 1 day
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for the drabble thing kinda 👉👈 (mostly be rambling per usual but could be an idea). I've been listening to music non stop at work and favorite record by fall out boy came on today
and there's a lyric that goes "and I confessed, confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath purple skies" and it screams mammon and mc to me. ALSO the rest of the song makes it sound like past tense/lost love/one that got away...angst potential too. Like reminiscing? Mc moved on but he never did.
I just like thinking about different ways he may confess, and if he'd just blurt it out without thinking? Or maybe he's hyped himself up, he's driving mc up to a hilltop to stargaze, he's got it all planned - and something mc does just makes him blurt it out
if it was something silly like turning on the A/C before he could finish asking them to, because MC just knows him that well, that would be hilarious
Mammon: hey uh, can you-
mc, already turning the dial: i got you
Mammon: i am in love with you.
- ✨ anon
also, partially related but Flu Game by the same band reminds me so much of nightbringer!mc and I could go on forever about it
Yes this feels very Mammon to me... blurting it out before he means to lol! I do like the angst of MC moving on, but he never did, too! That's some good potential right there.
BUT I did a drabble based on the rest of the idea, that he's taking MC to a hilltop to confess but doesn't quite make it lol.
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Mammon knows he has to tell you. It's been stewing inside him for a while, brought to his attention every time you meet his eyes, every time you say his name, every time you touch him or hug him or do something before he even asks. He's nervous to say it, but he won't risk losing you because he was too afraid.
He has it all planned out. What better way than to take you for a drive? Up onto the highest hilltop in the Devildom. Thinking about it makes his pulse race. He's on high alert all day, not able to focus on anything except the moment when those words pass his lips.
Mammon rehearses what he'll say. He thought about getting poetic, but in the end he decides it's better to just be straightforward. To be honest, to be true, to tell you exactly what he needs you to know, so there is no possibility of miscommunication. He chants it in his head all day. I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you.
You settle into the passenger seat of his Demonio like you belong there, riding shotgun beside him. He wants to say it right then, before he's even started the car.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon holds it in as you click in your seat belt and smile at him before turning on the music. It's a playlist you made together of all the songs you both love most. As you start singing along to the chorus, he wants to say it again.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon's eyes are on the road, but you are all encompassing. Despite this, he doesn't let his attention wander from the task of driving. He cares too much about you to be reckless.
He hasn't said much because he doesn't trust himself to speak. The road gets tricky as he starts up the winding cliff side to get to the highest hilltop. He can't look away from it, but he's sweating. He wipes quickly at his forehead.
"Hey, MC, can ya-"
"I got you," you say, already turning the dial.
His heart skips. And the words he's been repeating in his mind all day come bursting out. "I'm in love with you."
For a moment, the only sound is a soft song that has begun to play. Mammon's mind is buzzing, full of static at the shock of what he's just done, what he's said. He didn't even make it up to the hilltop.
"Er- I mean-" he starts to say, but it's too late.
He sees you reaching toward him in his periphery. He takes your outstretched hand without even thinking about it.
"I love you, too," you say, simply.
Mammon holds your hand like it's the only thing keeping him alive as he finally makes it to his destination. He stops the car and turns to you, taking in the way your eyes are shining brighter than all the stars and city lights streaming in through the windshield. He leans over to kiss you and the current between you is like lightning, brighter and more intense than any other light could hope to be. Wild, unpredictable, full of passion - just like him.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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rotten7rat · 3 months
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Oh Jay, you only see the ways you've changed
The same boy, 10 years apart
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arminsumi · 7 months
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that megumi writing was so cuuute i melted <33
do you have any megumi bf hcs?
bf gumi
💗めぐみ + fem!reader
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note : hehe thank you sugarpuff :)
🍒 More from Jay : JJK works / oct. reqs open
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bf!megumi always does things with you in mind. he stops by vending machines and thinks i'll get y/n's favorite. he spars with gojo sensei and thinks i'll show off this move to y/n later. he gets scuffed up by a curse and thinks y/n will kiss it better when i get home.
bf!megumi asks "can i kiss you?" even though you two have been dating for years now... and it's totally fine for him to just... yk... kiss you on his own accord. but nah. he still asks. with puppy eyes too. and those eyes sparkle when you say yes.
bf!megumi and his need for makeouts. needy!! he can't go a day without spending that quality time with your lips.
bf!megumi will mutter "what're you doing, idiot?" and lower his chin on your shoulder to hint that he needs your attention. he can't just say hey, gimme attention... no he hints and then gets frustrated when you don't get it.
bf!megumi is super attentive to your needs :( you briefly massage your shoulder? well he'll come give you a proper massage. you got chapped lips? he slips your chapstick into your palm. shivering? engulfs you in a hug.
bf!megumi refuses to let anyone mess up his hair... except you. he curls up close in the mornings, clinging to you like you're the only thing that's real after he's had a long dream. "play with my hair..." he mumbles into you groggily.
bf!megumi blushes in the mirror and smiles a little, tracing his fingertips over the hickeys you gave him on his neck and collarbone the day before.
bf!megumi spends nights geeking out to you about music, and makes playlists with you. then he listens to them while daydreaming of you when he's alone, and it feels like you're there with him. yuji teases him about zoning out during practice, and asks, "what's the "my love mine all mine" playlist for? mitski stuff? oh there's just love songs... WAIT. DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?" and megumi is grimacing at him, snatching his phone back and bonking yuji on the head with it.
bf!megumi is such a daydreamer, actually. you're right in his mind, stuck there, a constant thought in his subconscious even when he's busy.
bf!megumi stares at you with an adoring look and completely loses himself in you. so many times, his friends have made jokes about how they wish they had someone who looked at them like how he looks at you.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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bgomtori · 2 months
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☆ lover's rock - c.bg
synopsis - love wasn't something you believed in until you bumped into him while listening to your favourite band.
-> music major! beomgyu x art major! reader
-> love a first sight, college au!, artist x muse
-> warnings! slowburn, yn's dense, makeout session.
-> note! after i heard that beomgyu listens to cas, i screamed, my fav person and one of my fav bands :' also gyu day!! his birthday is literally 4 days before mine, i think it's fate 😂 jokes💀 hope you guys enjoy this :>
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art, something that is enjoyed by many in various ways, through music, paintings or even poems. personally, you enjoyed art through your paintings, the ability to express yourself on a canvas with multiple hues of colours was fascinating to you, along with the soothing melody of music playing in the background. your mind wanders off as you immerse yourself in the current art project you had, your wrist moving slowly while you sketch on your prep board.
the library was quiet as usual, all types of students from different majors all gathered in one area to study or rush last minute work. you snapped yourself back into reality, aimlessly staring at the artpiece infront of you, your eyes feeling strained and dry, unable to keep itself open. that was your cue to pack up and leave, you stretched your aching body, slinging your bag over your shoulders as you left the library, placing your headphones over your ears, turning up the volume slowly, paying no attention to the surrounding area around you.
"ow, sorry." a voice sounded louder than what played in your headphones, you removed them, trying to be polite to the person you accidentally bumped into. "it's fine, i should have paid more attention to my surroundings." you bowed, before bending down to pick up your phone that was knocked away from your grasp.
"you listen to cigarettes after sex too?" you could hear the joy behind the male's voice, clearly thrilled to find out that a person listens to the same band as him. you nodded your head, "you like them too?"
"yea of course! i've been listening to them since they released their first album." he smiled, his eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit hallway you were standing in. "that's cool, what's your name? maybe we can talk more."
"beomgyu, choi beomgyu. how about you? i've seen you around the art building before." he replied, shooting the question back at you, "yn, hope to see you around next time." you smiled at him, wanting to leave already.
"wait, what's your number? you seem cool, i mean you are cool especially since you listen to cas. i just want to talk to someone like you." beomgyu stuttered, his face turned away from you as he held his phone towards you, displaying the contact list to you. you laughed softly, typing in your number, along with your name and an emoji.
"text me anytime, i'll try my best to reply." you waved, leaving a stranded beomgyu in the middle of a dark hallway, his eyes never leaving your disappearing figure. without even noticing, his lips tugged up into a smile, finally someone he could relate to, he could already feel the connection between the both of you. call him crazy, but he thinks that you would be best friends by the end of the semester.
and that dream became a reality. all starting from a text message from beomgyu, sending you a playlist he created of his favourite songs from all his favourite bands. something as little as a playlist warmed your heart, who would actually take the time and effort to create a playlist for a stranger they barely knew. and this was the starting point of your everlasting friendship. the way that he would often make his way to the art studio, despite his music studio being a 10 minutes away from it, he is willing to walk that distance for you, with your favourite drink in hand.
"you're class ended 15 minutes ago, how are you here so fast?" you opened the door for beomgyu, letting him into the art studio, locking it in the process. beomgyu stared at the current piece you were working in, completely awed by how pretty the artwork was.
"you're so good at this." ignoring your previous question, placing his bag down on the ground, taking a seat beside your canvas. you sighed, knowing beomgyu would never reveal the reason why he's always so quick to find you.
"have you listened to their latest single?" beomgyu asked, scrolling through his playlist, specifically made for music of his taste. you shook your head, "i didn't even know that they released a new song." beomgyu looked at you as if you grew another head.
"you're missing out, oh my god." beomgyu gasped, immediately playing the song, 'bubblegum.' by cas. a familiar yet different sounding melody filled your eardrums as you listened intently to the song beomgyu was showing you.
"it's nice." you found yourself humming to the lyrics, sketching on the canvas that was infront of you. "right, they never disappoint." beomgyu agreed, trying to find another song to add to the queue.
"gyu–" beomgyu looked up at the sound of his voice, his eyes blinking at you slowly, waiting for you to complete your sentence, "why, don't you talk to your other friends about music?" it has been a question on your mind ever since you've became friends with beomgyu, you've noticed how he doesn't talk much about his interest and taste in music to the guys compared to when he is with you.
"oh." his response was dry, making you think that you've said something hurtful.
"uhm, i didn't mean it, i guess it's slightly insensitive, forget that i asked that." you stammered, your face getting warm due to the embarrassment you were facing.
"you didn't say anything wrong, don't worry." he reassured, giving you a small smile.
"it's just that they don't share the same taste as me, so i can't really talk to them about my passion and interest in music. it's fine though! i've finally met you, so i'm alright with that." beomgyu admitted, his eyes practically glowing under the bright light in the art studio. your heart raced, butterflies filling your stomach, how cute could he be to make you feel like this. you've never believed that love was something for you, every single person you've liked has rejected you, clearly beomgyu wouldn't be any different.
"when is this due?" beomgyu questioned, his finger tapping on your canvas.
"in 2 weeks, why?" your head tilting in confusion as beomgyu's lips tugged into a mischievious smirk, "let's dip, you still have plenty of time to complete that."
"what? no. i need to–"
"no you don't, let's go to a vinyl shop, i know a place." beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat. you screeched, telling him to wait, since your things were scattered around the studio. beomgyu chuckled, releasing your wrist, watching you frantically pack everything into your bag.
"i hate you." you grumbled, glaring at beomgyu while locking the door to your art studio. beomgyu laughed, his hand landing atop your head, stroking your hair, "quit grumbling, let's go."
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
"what took you so long?" you removed a side of your earbud, looking up at beomgyu who was staring at your with an apologetic look on his face. "i've not been to the campus's library in months, so i kinda got lost.." his eyes averting your gaze, cheeks warming up due to the embarrassment. you laughed at him softly, patting the seat beside you.
"do you always come to the library on your free time?" beomgyu whispered, placing his bag on the ground, grabbing his laptop at the same time. you nod your head, fingers quickly typing out the 5000 word essay that was due the following day. beomgyu frowned, noticing how you have yet to give him any attention from the moment he sat down beside you.
beomgyu sighed into the palm of his hand, pushing his chair closer to yours, your shoulders coming into contact with one another, knees brushing against each other's occassionally. you could feel beomgyu's eyes burning holes into your soul, causing you to turn to face him, unaware of how close you guys were. your eyes widened, along with his, your face about a centimeter away from his. lips barely touching, his hot breath fanning against your face, eyes boring into yours.
"sorry.." beomgyu coughed, turning away from you, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"it's fine." you choked out, still thinking about what just happened, unable to think straight, you hastily finished your essay, not caring on whether it was perfect or not, and switched your laptop off.
"let's go to the vinyl store, i need more vinyls." you packed your bags, trying your best not to look into beomgyu's eyes, knowing that you'll instantly malfunction under his gaze. however, just as you had that thought in mind, beomgyu grabbed onto your wrist, making you pause your actions.
"wait, i have something for you." beomgyu removed his grip from your wrist, pulling a small box from his bag, placing it in your hand.
"open it." he whispered, eyes looking at the box and back at you, excited for you to open up the surprise gift he bought for you. you untied the cute little ribbon on the box before lifting up the lid of the tiny box, only to see a cute bracelet staring back at you, the star-shaped charm gleaming prettily, it's colours so plain yet so charming.
"it's pretty." was all your said, but beomgyu has known you long enough to understand that you don't talk that much when you see something you like so much, but your express it through your body language and facial expression. he could see the way your eyes lit up, ane how your lips tugged up to a slight smile without noticing. beomgyu grinned, watching as you slipped the bracelet on your wrist.
"let's go?" you asked, snapping beomgyu out of his daze.
"yea sure." his hands grabbing onto yours, acting as if he doesnt care, but his mind was a hectic mess. he could see your clueless expression through his peripheral vision, doe eyes staring at his hand on yours. beomgyu swore that his heart was going to jump out any moment, his ears turning to a soft hue of read, you were definitely going to be the death of him.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
time flies whenever you're with beomgyu, without even realising it has already been months since your first interaction. by this time, you've finally grown accustomed to your growing feelings for the male, from his appearance to his passion in music, everything about him was perfect. even your friends caught on to your lovesick ways, also talking to beomgyu from time to time just to see if he was suitable for you, only for them to say that you're dense. you couldn't even believe soobin when he told you that beomgyu hasn't been like this around his past lovers, lies, was what you told soobin, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded, just to see soobin shaking his head, telling you that it's true.
every now and then, beomgyu would invite you over to his dorm if he's too lazy to go over to yours, and behind closed doors, blocking out the noise happening in the living room due to the boys loud yelling, the both of your just listened to your shared playlist in silence. it may not seem like much, but this activity calms you down, resting your head against the bed frame while beomgyu lays on his pillow, scrolling through his phone.
lovers rock, the song you recommended him since the start of your friendship. the sound of the electric guitar slowly fading into the quiet atmosphere, your fingers subconsciously tap against your phone to the beat, humming along with the melody.
"look at this tiktok, it reminds me of us." beomgyu chuckled, his arm extended to show you the cute tiktok on his phone. you took some time to process that he was trying to show you something before turning your head towards his phone, "oh my god, stop shaking." you grumbled, grabbing onto his phone, your hand laying on top of his.
the video contained two cats hugging each other as they had earbuds in their ear, listening to music, perfectly picturing the exact event happening right now. your stomach felt funny, biting your lips as you fought back the largest smile ever. "yea, that's us." you giggled, this feeling was euphoric, the way your smile is immediately reciprocated makes you feel like you've won a marathon, how this man has you completely wrapped around his finger...
beomgyu hummed, a hint of joy hidden behind his voice as he turned to his side to face the wall. your eyes flickered onto beomgyu's figure, your body slowly edging towards him unconsciously.
"hmm?" beomgyu sounded, feeling your head pressing against his back, you forcefully pushed his head away, preventing him to look at you, "i'm tired." you yawned, wrapping your arm around his waist loosely, growing more comfortable against his warmth. beomgyu could hear his own heartbeat, loud and clear, afraid that you could hear it too. your eyes fluttered close, on the verge of falling asleep.
"yn." beomgyu called, his body shifted around to face you, you looked up at him groggily, waiting for him to say something. beomgyu's mouth turned dry, completely forgetting the words that he wanted to tell you.
"ah, forget it, rest well." swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched as you nodded your head, falling back to sleep. he stared at the wall behind you in frustration, his mind only filled with thoughts of you, and how he was going to confess to you.
ever since he told his friends about his undying love for you, all they did was to push him into confessing because he'd be a pussy if he didn't, and to convince his friends that he isn't one, he has to tell you soon. currently, his phone was raided with a bunch of notifications from his group chat, all of them asking when he was going to tell you.
heeseung : stop pussying it, just say it.
beomgyu : it's not that simple 😐 and she's asleep right now
jeongin : you had all the time in the world to say it just now, and you wasted it.
beomgyu : ok shut up, maybe later.
"so fucking annoying.." he groaned softly, turning his phone off, staring off into the distance again.
"what's annoying?" you yawned a question, woken up by beomgyu's rapid typing and groans in annoyance from earlier. beomgyu looked at you in shock, praying that you didn't see any of the messages he exchanged with his friends.
"ah, nothing." beomgyu shrugged it off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"yn, i have something to tell you." he suddenly sat up, causing you to flinch, "what is it?" following his actions.
"do you believe in love at first sight?" the sudden question about love caught you off guard, you played around with the bracelet beomgyu previoudly gave you, unable to come up with a response. your silence made beomgyu nervous, was it too random? he stared off to the side of his room.
"i didn't believe it at first, but i guess i think it's possible." you replied, the back of your neck feeling warmer by the second, afraid that you'd accidentally slip out a confession. beomgyu looked at you as if you grew two heads, he knew you weren't fond of love, and would much rather focus on your future art career. he was slightly curious, and extremely jealous of this person who managed to steal your heart.
"who?"
"who..?"
"who is this person that changed your mind." his tone sounding harsher than he intended to, maybe becausr he didn't want to lose you to any other guy who didn't deserve you. your throat was dry, it was to either tell him the truth or lie about your feelings for him. however, you didn't want to miss out on this opportunity, i mean what could be worse than getting rejected in his own dorm. you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, licking your lips,
"you."
"what?"
"it's you, ever since you bumped into me when i was making my way out of the library." you confessed, feeling yourself crumble, knowing that beomgyu is watching you intently. on the other hand, beomgyu didn't believe his ears, his mind going haywire at the thought that you liked him back, not even paying attention to your rambling.
"i don't know if this is the right time to confess, i mean i guess it was just the heat of the moment.. i'm sorry if i made you uncomf–" your eyes widened at the sudden contact on your lips, slowly blinking to register the situation that's happening. what felt like fireworks in your stomach, your eyes naturally closed, reciprocating the kiss, your hand placed on top of beomgyu's, slightly gripping onto it. beomgyu smiled into the kiss, his free hand landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him.
beomgyu pulled away, causing you to whine, wanting more. beomgyu couldn't help but giggle at how desperate you were.
"more.." you sighed out, wrapping your arms around beomgyu's neck, tilting your head as you connected your lips against his. his lips tasted like strawberries, his favourite fruit, and also the chapstick that he steals from your occassionally, he was perfect. you pulled away, catching your breath, placing your forehead against beomgyu's.
"guess we picked the best song to kiss to." beomgyu chuckled, you quirked your eyebrow, not understanding what he meant, until you heard what the lyrics meant. you giggled, nuzzling your head into beomgyu's neck.
"it's perfect."
she might wanna kiss
before the end of this song..
perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu @defnotleee
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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My Love Is Mine All Mine
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Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕
Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.
Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.
A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!
Masterlist || Series Playlist
Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 
He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 
You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 
He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 
It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 
The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 
The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 
Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 
You accepted understanding from him, though. 
When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 
He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 
But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 
“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 
It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 
“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 
“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 
You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 
You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 
“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 
“I think so.”
“Then set up the board and let's play.” 
He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 
More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 
You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 
You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 
The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 
But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 
“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 
You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.
He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 
“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 
“What?” 
He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 
“I live down the hall.” 
You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 
“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 
Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 
Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  
One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 
“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 
“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 
“I have three PhD's-” 
“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 
You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 
Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 
You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.
What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 
He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 
Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 
You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 
Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 
You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 
But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 
The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 
You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.
You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.
“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 
Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 
As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.
Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 
“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 
“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 
You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 
“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 
“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 
“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 
His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 
Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.
Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 
It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 
He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 
When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 
“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.
623 notes · View notes
andysorbit · 3 months
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Hyuck hard hours weeeee ft. smoking cigarettes and eating edibles because fuck SM
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Stoner!Hyuck x Stoner fem!reader
warnings: Hyuck has daddy issues (we're twins weeeee 🤗), fem receiving oral sex, light praise and dirty talk, Hyuckie smokes, fuck sm, there's weed, I'm obsessed with Hyuck's lil facial hair, fuck sm, they're in love, hyuck has an oppa kink, like I really hate how that concept wouldn't fuck off but yeah it's there and I'm not really sure how to feel about it
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"I think I bought the wrong ones... this is not working," Hyuck mutters as he examines the packaging closely; quirking his lip up in annoyance, he picks up his phone and opens the camera so he can scan the QR code on the back of the packaging for its authenticity.
"Okay, I didn't so what the fuck is the problem with these?"
"Hyuck, it's only been five minutes. You do this every single time. Just wait, okay?" You laugh. He frowns and turns to look at you. You both just stare at each other.
"Y'know what's crazy?" he asks peevishly as he stick a cigarette between his lips and reaches for the lighter on the coffee table. After lighting his cigarette, he takes a pull from it and blows the smoke into the air slowly.
It's starting. The random guilt ramble.
"What, Hyuckie?" You sigh.
"Parent privilege is crazy to me... my dad used to always talk about how good I had it but honestly I think he had it better because he got away with shit I'd slap a bitch in the street for saying to me which pretty much cancels out the poor impulse shit he kept dumping on me. If my impulse control was that bad, how come he never got his shit rocked?... I wanna call him... maybe tell him I already arraigned his funeral and now I'm just waiting for the good news," he rambles.
Hyuckie hasn't spoken to his dad in years. He acts like he's okay with it but you know it hurts him and every time he gets high, you know he's going to say some random thing about it and you know he's only ever this vulnerable when he's drunk, high, or about to be one or the other.
"Don't call him, Hyuck," You tell him softly.
"Let's go out?" he whispers as he gets to his feet, "I wanna drive down to the pier and listen to music."
"You can't drive while you're high," You hiss as you get up to follow him out of the room. "I'm not high yet. We'll just drive down to the pier and hang out then we can sleep it off at the hotel that just opened right over there," Hyuck says as he gets a small bag and tosses some overnight essentials into it.
You shrug, "Okay sounds fun."
On the way, Hyuck stops off to get a pizza pie before continuing on the way. The ride is accompanied by an opera playlist you both randomly became fixated on a few days ago and Hyuck is on his second cigarette. It hangs from his lips and he occasionally holds it out the window to drop the ash from the other end. It's a bad habit of his but he knows you think it's sexy.
When you arrive, Hyuck parks in a dark corner of the lot along the water and cuts the engine, "Okay, my cock isn't gonna jerk itself off," he sighs as he leans his seat back. You know he's definitely beginning to feel it and you're relieved to know you made it here before this moment occurred.
"Can you at least be romantic first?" You sigh as you turn to hold his gaze.
"You're right. I should put the top down and you should take your top off so I can suck your tits while you look up at the stars... maybe I should eat your pussy out instead," he says softly as he presses the button to put the top down on the car; the warm night air dances over your skin and he reaches out to unbuckle your seat belt, "Imagine that? Being high while you stargaze with my face between your legs? It probably feels like you're in outer space when you cum."
You reach across to palm his cock through his khaki pants and he moans, "You're gonna blow me first? Are you sure? I'll eat you out first, Y/n, it's okay."
You shake your head and open his pants, "No, it's okay. I've been wanting to suck your dick all day," You hum as you shift uncomfortably. Hyuck pushes your hand away, "Let's fix the seats. If we do it now, we won't have to stop and do it later."
You both push your seats as far back as they'll go and Hyuck reaches across to pull your shirt up to expose your breasts to him, nipples perked up from arousal. Hyuck leans over and sucks your left nipple into his mouth. You gasp and he chuckles as you push your chest up a little more.
"That's a good girl," he encourages you before moving over to your side. He drops down in front of you and looks up at you slyly, "I'm going first- watch the stars," he says as he begins shoving up your skirt so he can clumsily get your panties off. You look up at the night sky and admire the stars for a moment as you wait for his next move. After getting you situated in an easier position, you feel his tongue press flat against your cunt and slowly drag its way up. You moan and reach down to tug at his hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth loudly before teasing the soft bundle of nerves with playful flicks of his tongue.
"Hyuck... fuck, yeah, baby. Oh God, yes... Just like that... just like... Hyuckie," You pant softly. The stars dot the black of the night and twinkle dreamily as you feel your body beginning to tremble.
He chuckles as he continues lapping and sucking at your clit; hands squeezing your hips to keep you in place as the soft stubble on his face scratches softly at your inner thighs. The stars look as if you could reach out and touch them and you try to; one hand releasing its clutch on Hyuck's hair to stupidly reach out for a soft orange star that stands out among the rest. Hyuckie laughs harder and licks at your soaked entrance.
He pulls away for a moment and swats your thigh, "Look at me," he says softly. You tear your eyes away from the orange star and look down at him. He stares back at you; eyes wild. hair tussled, and his lips pink, puffy, and wet with your arousal. You hold his gaze as he presses a kiss to your mound, "Call me oppa."
"Fuck no," You spit out peevishly. He holds you a little firmer, "Come on... You know you want to. You don't mind calling me oppa when my grandma's around," he whispers.
"That's different," You moan as goes back to licking and suck in your cunt but much slower.
"Yeah? And how is that?" he says between soft strokes against your clit.
"I'm just... I- I'm just- I-"
"I'm just, I'm just, I'm just... spit it out."
"I'm just... being... respectful..."
"Then be respectful right now and do what I said. "
His eyes burn into yours and you swallow thickly. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the pier mingle with Il Divo's Caruso on the car speakers and you squirm, "Turn this off. I don't wanna cum to an opera song, Hyuck... It's weird."
"It's scratching my brain. Just relax, I promise it's gonna be different," Hyuck says as he peppers kisses over your thighs.
"You'd know this how?" You ask him softly, annoyed that this dialogue is happening but now oddly engaged.
"I was listening to this song the other day while you were at work and I was doing the laundry and well... your panties- the sapphire ones with the lace embroidery were kinda just there and-"
"You jerked off because of my panties?"
"I jerked off with your panties... the song was just a nice topper."
You snort and shake your head, "That is very on brand for you."
Hyuck shrugs blandly, "I have a hot girlfriend and I'm in love. I am not embarrassed."
You smile and touch his face, "If you weren't so good to me, I don't know what I'd do," You sigh dreamily. Hyuck shrugs again, this time smugly, "It's easy... nothin' to it," he whispers before pressing his mouth back to your throbbing cunt. He sucks on your clit lazily and you look back up at the sky.
He stops again and you look back down at him. He gazes back at you expectantly.
"Hyuck, please."
"Call me oppa and I'll eat your pussy until you're so far gone that you'll think I really did send you to the stars. I promise."
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606 notes · View notes
ln444 · 4 months
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spider-man!lando
cw: strangers to friends to lovers, uni au, idiots in love, fluff fluff fluff, slight angst; comfort/hurt (reader comforting lando), sad and tired lando:::(((((, mention of blood/wounds/bruises.
words: ~1,5k
notes: hii i'm finally back:D, i've been thinking about abt spiderman lando for weeks now omg!!! anyway it took me so long to write this pls don't hesitate to leave feedbacks😭 enjoy<3
playlist (to listen to for a better experience !!!): daylight by harry styles, yellow by coldplay, sparks by coldplay (my fav song in the whole world)
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lando norris. the adorable, clumsy guy you spot every day in class. he's always in his own world, snoozing on his desk and consistently late –somehow managing to still have good grades. you've been watching him for a few weeks now, totally fascinated by the curly boy. a goofy smile always creeps onto your face when he does something silly like accidentally bumping into people and mumbling apologies or drooling on his notes while falling asleep in class.
oh, you definitely have a small crush on lando norris — or maybe even a big one. your mind has been filled with all sorts of ideas on how to approach him –daydreaming about it during class or as you're trying to fall asleep at night, finding yourself staring at your ceiling with a stupid grin, lost in thoughts of that adorable guy you've been keeping an eye on.
today, you stayed a bit longer in class, diligently recopying your notes from the previous lecture. however, you weren't alone; a dozing lando occupied a nearby table, blissfully drooling on his notes. concentration became a struggle as you wrapped up quickly, sighing as you stole glances at the dreamy boy. rapidly packing your bag without a sound, you approach him, taking a moment to admire the sleepy boy, a smile instantly gracing your lips as your heart melts. inhaling deeply, you find the courage to gently tap his shoulder.
"hey," you softly whisper, lando whimpering and stirring slightly. patiently, you wait, hoping his eyes will finally open. when they don't, a suppressed giggle will finally open, and you tap his shoulder again, a bit more insistently this time.
"wake up!" you whisper-scream, a blush coloring your cheeks as a hint of regret surfaces –maybe it was too much, maybe you should have let him sleep, uncertain if he'd appreciate your wake-up call. his eyes eventually flutter open, struggling to grasp the situation. once he does, he clears his throat, quickly fixing his posture and adjusting his glasses. the sight makes your heart feel like it might burst out of your chest.
"class is over," you say sofly, standing in front of him, resisting the urge to run your hand through his messy hair.
"what?" he groans, still attempting to shake off his sleepy state. "already?" he glances around in confusion, seeing the empty room before turning to you, finally becoming aware of the one who put him out of his sleep and his cheeks slightly turns red.
"do you need notes?" you ask, eager to have a conversation with him. the pink on your cheeks persists since he opened his eyes, intensifying as he looks at you with big, confused and sleepy eyes. his gaze shifts down to his notes, damp with drool, and suddenly his cheeks burns. clearing his throat once more, he nervously scratches the back of his head.
"oh... right... uh," his eyes return to you, hesitantly meeting yours, and you stand there, fighting the smile on your face. "i guess i could use some of your notes," he chuckles nervously, "if that's okay for you, of course!" he quickly adds, causing your heart to race dangerously close to exploding because of how cute he is.
"of course, you can give it back to me tomorrow," you smile, your stomach tightening with the anticipation of talking to him again.
"thank you," he softly says, still clearly in a sleep state and a bit lost, but he manages to offer you a shy smile that almost brings tears to your eyes.
"see you tomorrow, then," after giving him a final smile, you turn around, hearing a small "see ya!" behind you before leaving the class, feeling happier than ever.
lando runs a hand through his hair, attempting to process what just happened. conversations with people at uni is rare for him, making it a surprise when someone approaches. he gazes at the notes you handed him, lost in his thoughts for a few more minutes before reality hits him—he just embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl.
"fuck..." a groan filled with frustration and embarrassment escapes his lips as he buries his face in his hands, his cheeks bruning.
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since that day, you and lando start having study sessions, usually at the library or in relaxed coffee shops. the transition is a bit of a mystery; lando returned your notes, and somehow, conversations about the lecture led you to offering help, which he accepted without hesitation.
your study sessions became more and more friendly, both of you getting comfortable in each other's company. you couldn't be happier, realizing that you get the chance to see him every day and appreciate the subtle details, like the way he crunches his nose when he is thinking or how his glasses slide down when he attentively listens to your explanations.
it's the way lando consistently gives you his full attention, not just during study sessions, but also when you share bits about yourself, your interests, or even random stuff you've seen on the internet or the way he never forgets to bring two snacks, always excited to share it with you and making sure you're eating and drinking well. despite his lateness, he puts effort to be present, sincerely apologizing and making it up to you everytime.
you somehow got used to his habit of arriving late, accepting that it's a part of who he is. even though frustration and questions nag at you occasionally, you never found the courage to ask and feel like you don't have the right to say anything. of course, there have been moments when you were mad, waiting for over an hour, but you're way too whipped for him to stay mad forever.
just like that, you find yourself slowly falling for lando. what started as a silly crush turned into something more profound; it's evident when butterflies go wild in your stomach at the sight of him, and your heart races unusually fast whenever he smiles at you.
lando can't quite understand how you've become a constant presence in his thoughts. the frequency of your hangouts has become unexpectedly high, something unusual for him. being spider-man and a student was already challenging enough; adding a social life seems nearly impossible. he tried before –having friends, attending parties, socializing –but it never lasted, the fatigue and busyness making it hard to keep up.
with you, everything feels different for lando. falling this hard was unexpected from the moment he first asked you to study with him. slowly, he starts making time for you, always finding a way to see you, even if study sessions became an excuse. you became a ray of sunshine in his life, bringing light to his otherwise tiring days. whenever he feels miserable, a glance at you makes everything feels right.
beyond study sessions, you both start having dates –that's how you secretly both call your hangouts. lando takes you to the arcade, introducing you to his favorite games, while you share cherished spots in your favorite park; sitting there, watching swans, you engage in lighthearted conversations, while your hearts secretly beat for each other, missing the subtle starstruck gazes and the way your cheeks burn when your hands accidentally brush against each other.
the worst part for lando is finding himself thinking about you even in the midst of fighting villains, getting distracted more than he should. it frustrates him how he can't shake you from his mind, even when he's spider-man. at first, he hated himself for it, attempting to ignore his growing feelings. but it become undeniable the day you smiled at him with the most sincere and loving expression. in that moment, he realized he was already too deep into it and let himself drown deeper into the feeling.
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letting out a frustrated whimper, you bury your head in your hands. you've been attempting to finish this essay for hours now, but thoughts of the curly-haired boy persistently invade your mind. you've tried to push him out, if only for a moment, to focus on this stupid homework, but he always finds a way back into your thoughts. being stuck in your small apartment due to villains doesn't make the situation any easier.
sighing for the umpteenth time tonight, you stare at the almost white screen of your pc, hoping that motivation will miraculously appear. amidst your frustration, a subtle noise catch your attention. you turn around, your eyes scanning outside. you notice nothing out of the ordinary, brushing it away and convincing yourself it was just a passing bird. you had bigger problems anyway.
as you try to refocus on your work, the persistent noise grows louder, intensifying your unease. determined to dismiss it, you turn around for a second time, only to be shocked by the unexpected sight of lando. his face is covered with bruises, and he's struggling to climb the last steps of the fire escape stairs. reacting quickly, you jump from your chair, urgently guiding your steps as you open the window to lend him a hand.
"oh my god lando!" you choke on your own split, and lando lets out a pained groan, fighting to maintain his balance as he relies on you. with careful effort, he makes it to the sofa, collapsing upon it. you rush to his side, cupping his bruised face, your heart sinking as you take a look at the injuries. the sight nearly brings you to tears, a mix of concern and distress filling your stomach.
lando looks drained, the effort to keep his eyes open visible on his face. despite the weakness, he manages to maintain an unwavering gaze locked onto yours. the pain you're reading in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, making your heart heavy.
"lando... what happened?" you say softly, your voice betraying the dryness in your throat. his response is delayed, taking a minute for lando to found the strength to answer. throughout this time, his hands grip your shirt, and his eyes remain fixed on yours, unbroken since he arrived.
"just a stupid fight... i'm fine," his voice is deep and weak, feeding your concern. despite the fatigue, he manages a small, gentle smile.
"what do you mean you're fine? are you kidding me?" you try to keep your voice soft, not wanting to add tension. "let me take care of you first, then you're going to tell me everything," with a sigh, you stand up, but lando's hands on your wrist stops you. you can't miss the painful groan that escapes him.
"i'm fine... i promise," he says weakly, his words carrying a weariness that tugs at your concern. "you're not fine, lando!" you voice unintentionally rises, a reflection of your worry, but you regret it the moment you lock your eyes with lando's softened gaze.
your hand instinctively reaches for his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the lines of his bruised skin. "it's okay, let me take care of you, please?" you implore, your voice adopting a softer tone. lando's heart seems to respond, warmth spreading as he relaxes, gently releasing your wrist.
"okay," he mumbles, too tired to resist, and you hurry to the bathroom to get your aid kit. returning swiftly, you find an exhausted lando, battling fatigue. your heart tightens, and you take a deep breath, holding back tears. lando starts regretting coming to you, the worry on your face making him feel guilty. as you come back, without a warning, you put an arm around him –and he's surprised that even in this awful state, you manage to make his heart beat faster. "let's get you on the floor," you gently suggest, doing your best to avoid hurting him. with a few soft whimpers, lando makes it to the ground, and you sit in front of him, getting the closer you can.
you gently take his chin between your fingers, inspecting the wounds again, unable to get over the extent of his injuries. lando feels his cheeks burn from the closeness and attention, his heart racing. without wasting any time, you start cleaning the bruises, handling him carefully.
your eyes shift to his white shirt, now stained with fresh blood, revealing notable marks underneath. a gasp escapes you, and you look at lando, your hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. "can i?" you timidly ask in a quiet voice, and lando don't hesitate to nod, trusting you more than anyone. you proceed to gently take off his shirt, ensuring not to cause him more pain. he winces, and your eyes fall on his wounded body, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. "oh my god..." you fingers trace the big and deep wounds, and lando watches you with remorseful eyes.
you don't add anything, wanting to take care of everything as soon as possible so he can finally rest. a comfortable silence fills the room as you begin with his face, gently cleaning and bandaging the wounds.
on the other hand, lando can't tear his eyes from you, enjoying your pouty expression because of your concentration. occasionally, he closes his eyes when you touch a sensitive area, his lips parting to release small groans. you find yourself apologizing each time, looking at him with sympathetic eyes.
you take a second look at his blood-covered body, and a million of questions race through your mind. this can't be a simple fight. lost in your thoughts, you don't notice lando's gaze or the flush on his cheeks due to your intense staring of his chest. he's about to call your name, but you're quicker than him.
"are you hiding something, lando?" you gently speak, your hands cupping his face with tenderness. you give him a soft look that seeks not just the truth but a shared vulnerability. lando opens his mouth to respond, but the words gets stuck in his throat, caught between the desire to tell you everything and the fear of exposing too much.
"i..." he starts, the weight of unspoken words evident in his eyes. sensing his struggle, you lean in closer, a soft and reassuring forming on your lips. your fingertips dance gently over his cheek. "you know you can tell me everything, right ?" you whisper, your voice filled with understanding. lando don't even dare to blink, drawn into the sincerity in your gaze.
without hesitation, he closes the gap with a tender kiss. your mind momentarily pauses, trying to process the situation. slowly, you kiss him back, feeling the heaviness of his heart in the softness of the kiss.
pulling back slowly, your eyes meet again, and there is a change in lando's expression. the warmth is replaced by a hint of concern, even sadness, making you rise an eyebrow curiously; "wh-"
"i'm spider-man."
his words hang in the air, and it takes a moment for you to process, leaving lando feeling like he's on the verge of a breakdown. completely petrified, he continues, "i understand if you don't want to see me anymore... i-"
"lando," you try to cut him off, but he's panicking, his eyes welling up, and it tugs your heart. "god, i'm so stupid," the instant regret hits him, he keeps mumbling, expressing his fear of messing everything up. it becomes too much for him, and he bursts into tears. without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, holding him as tight as you can.
"hey, you're okay. it's okay, i'm here," you softly whisper in his ear, your hand gently rubbing his back. the sound of his sobs makes your heart ache, as if it's breaking into pieces. "i'm so tired," his voice is muffled, but you can hear all the pain and exhaustion in it. your stomach tightens, feeling your own eyes burn as you try to hold back the tears.
you let him cry in your arms for a moment, letting him take it all out, whispering sweet and reassuring words in his ears. your hand hasn't left his hair, stroking it gently. you feel him finally calm down, his sobs getting quieter.
he finally decide to look up, meeting your eyes and the sight breaks your heart; his eyes are puffed and red, accentuated by his bandaged bruises. you immediately grab his face, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of empathy and affection.
"do you still want me? even if i'm spider-man," his voice is soft, and you could feel all the exhaustion in it.
"of course, lando, why wouldn't i?" you reply without any second thought, sincerity evident in your eyes, softening lando's heart.
"i don't know... i'm always late and... tired," his voice is weak and hesitant, and you wish he'd stop talking and just rest.
"you're always late, but you're always here. you always do your best to make it." you reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with a soft smile. "it's okay to be tired, especially with your life, you should never apologize for that." your hand finds its way to his hair, "even when you're tired, you find the strength to take care of me and spend time with me. and for me, that means a lot," you gently stroke his hair, comforting him.
lando's eyes remain locked onto yours, caught in the sincerity they hold, and he swears his heart could explode at any moment just from hearing your words.
"you're so good to me..." he says in a whisper, pulling you into a quick but sweet kiss that makes both of your hearts melt. "of course, you deserve it," you whisper back, stealing a other kiss. "let me finish taking care of you, and then you can finally rest." you don't give him the time to complain, pulling back to resume cleaning his wounds.
after what felt like an eternity, you finish bandaging the last wound, looking up to find an exhausted lando. he fell asleep multiple times but insisted on staying awake until you finish. without wasting a minute, you put your arm around him to help him up, struggling to guide him to the bed where he manages to use his last drops of strength to remove his pants. once he's laid on the bed, you turn around to clean up the bandages on the floor, but lando immediately stops you, pulling you down.
"don't go," he whispers, and you smile, laying beside him without any hesitation, welcomed by his warm embraced.
you gaze at the sleepy boy beside you, your fingers gently ghosting his cheek.
"thank you," he says softly, and the sincerity in his words resonates. you offer him a loving smile, putting your lips on his for a passionate kiss. you manage to pull away just in time before lando succumbs to the sandman.
in that moment, it hits you—the boy you've fallen in love with is spider-man. a proud smile spreads across your face as you look at the peacefully sleeping lando beside you.
"i'm so proud of you," you whisper, determined to repeat those words to him tomorrow and every single day after that.
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tysm for reading! don't hesitate to leave a feedback if you liked it<3
804 notes · View notes
undiscovered-horizon · 10 months
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Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
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[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]
SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<
"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"
Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.
"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.
“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”
“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."
"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"
"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 
“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.
Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.
“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”
“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.
“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”
“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”
Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.
Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.
The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 
The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”
Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.
Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.
“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”
As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.
Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.
“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”
“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.
“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”
Maybe some people don’t actually change.
“I’m afraid you don’t.”
“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”
Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.
“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.
“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”
Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.
You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.
Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.
"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”
As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”
The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.
“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”
“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”
Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”
Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”
Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.
The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.
“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 
The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.
“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”
“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 
“Right away, мой царь.”
When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 
“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.
“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.
“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”
“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”
“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”
A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”
His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”
The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.
Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”
“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”
“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”
That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”
Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.
“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.
“You started this.”
“And I will finish if you play nice.”
Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”
“I learned from the best.”
The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.
Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”
To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”
The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 
You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 
You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.
 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.
“Mother-”
“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”
Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”
You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.
The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.
“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”
“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”
Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.
Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:
“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”
You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.
“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.
“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”
The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.
“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”
Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.
Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.
You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.
“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.
Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”
“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”
Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”
“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”
Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.
“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”
You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.
Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.
He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.
Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.
“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”
For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.
“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.
His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”
Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.
“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”
“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.
“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”
You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.
“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.
Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”
“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”
“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”
“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”
For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.
“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.
“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.
He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”
“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”
Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:
“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.
Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.
‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?
“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.
“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.
Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.
“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”
“Of course, my Queen.”
The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.
An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.
____
мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king
моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen
1K notes · View notes
saeist · 1 year
Text
it's not living if it's not with you ── s. itoshi
synopsis: if it's meant to be, it will be genre: ex2lovers, arranged/fake dating, celebrity!au, pro!au, fluff, angst with happy ending, sharing a bed, 2nd chances, ... word count: 12.3k warnings: reader and sae aged up 22+, implied sex towards the end, reader has a hint of social anxiety/claustrophobia, i think sae is a little ooc in some scenes, lmk if i missed some notes: THERE YOU HAVE IT SAEISTS.. MY 1K SPECIAL!! THIS IS THE SUPER SECRET SAE FIC I'VE BEEN TEASING EVERYONE ABOUT FOR LIKE A WEEK NOW AND IT'S FINALLY IN FRUITION! <3 here's a lil sae brainrot to show my gratitude to you guys ^_^ fellow saeists who also consume an unhealthy(?) amount of sae content...... this fic is also dedicated to the loml my bae aeri @saerins for taking ur time of day to beta-read and to my angel baby sage @invsu as well <33 ilu guys extras: i made a playlist for this bc i am insane like that and without further a do.. sit back, relax and enjoy! lmk what u guys think either in the tags or comments bc i rlly worked hard on this for like a week and i jus couldn't stop writing! talk abt a sae earworm... ++ if u guys find theres a lot of the 1975 references.. its bc i was listening to their songs as i made this lawl .. tmi!
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001.
you didn’t really put into consideration how awkward it actually was to be working on a modeling gig with your ex boyfriend.
the pay was obviously really good that’s why you even agreed to book it in the first place, especially since it was for a famous luxury brand and their fragrance line
so imagine your horror when you walk into set and see your ex posing for the cameras.
you silently hoped that it was just his solo shoot and not with you because your manager did mention that you would be having a partner for this photoshoot
the photographer greets you with a hug and compliments your outfit for the shoot. a white, sultry open neckline dress. the theme of the shoot was it was set on the beach with a sunset background
he instructs you to lay on the makeshift sand and tells you to start posing for your solo shots.
after a couple of clicks, the photographer compliments you on your professionalism on set and then calls your ex boyfriend.
“sae! time for the couple shots i told you about” the photographer calls out to sae who was on his makeup chair. your eyes widened in realization that he was, in fact, your partner for today’s shoot
you tried to look at your manager for some help but it was no use. your manager was busy talking to other people on set. you can feel your heart beating faster by the minute as sae walks closer to you
he was wearing something similar to what you were wearing. dress pants and a white oversized unbuttoned polo. his exposed toned abdomen was probably the main highlight of his outfit with it glistening under the studio lights. 
you bit your lip and looked away. sae has always been eye candy, there was no denying that. you were surprised yourself when you managed to bag him during his rookie days, but now that he was almost, if not an A list celebrity with his elite status in the world of football, you can almost say that itoshi sae was totally out of your league
you come back to your senses when the photographer claps his hands and muses how you and sae have insane chemistry that he has ever witnessed. you let out a little huff at the comment.
‘if only he knew’ you think to yourself, avoiding sae’s gaze as much as possible
the shoot starts and the photographer instructs sae to hover over you while holding the perfume bottle. sae nods and does what he’s told, he’s a professional after all. he wouldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with his work. that was the golden rule in the industry
you locked eyes with sae for the first time in years. he still had those fiery teal eyes that gets you weak in the knees each time. your eyes slowly dart from his eyes to his lips.
“keep doing that y/n!” the photographer cheers, clicking away on his camera. did you do something in your past life that you would inevitably end up in an awkward situation like this. a situation wherein you and your ex lover, in a position where you two are posing like an actual couple
your eyes flicker back from sae’s lips to his eyes again. for a second there you thought you felt a spark, a connection, an old flame that has been rekindled at that very moment.
til it all comes back to you in a flash
you forgot you hated him. you hate itoshi sae and you could’ve sworn itoshi sae hated you too. 
the bitter taste is still in your mouth after all these years. how could you forget the man who broke your little heart in two?
it was childish really. looking back at it now, where you were merely just starting out as a rookie model and sae being the same, a rookie at his profession. just two kids having a similar situation in two whole different industries. it was hard not to get entangled.
you were always known to be sae's long time lover. you were always supportive of his games. present whenever you can, sitting at the exclusive VIP section of the stadiums, wearing his number on your back; and if you weren’t able to attend due to your own schedules, you would still manage to find the time to support him. may it be posting an instagram story that you were watching him on your phone while you were getting your makeup done or wearing his jersey on the day of the game
sae was the same. he would always be seen wearing the stuff from brands you’ve modeled for. from jewelries to exclusive clothing lines, sae would always be seen wearing them, his silent way of showing support in your own craft. 
you were proud of him, and he was proud of you too.
but as all things are, good things come and go. even in the most unexpected times.
there were already rumors circulating that you and sae were ready to tie the knot, some news outlets even stating that maybe you two have gone ahead and tied the knot at some island during your secret little rendezvous. (having been caught going to santorini for more than multiple occasions)
the public has always been supportive of your relationship throughout the years. even earning the title as the nation’s sweethearts with how they’ve seen your relationship blossom from puppy love to what they call as “true love”
with the news that the nation’s sweethearts have parted ways, the public was as heartbroken as you. 
sae suddenly called it quits after almost five years of dating. it was after he has been taken under the wing of real madrid’s division A where his career as a midfielder really took off. to make matters even worse, he broke it off at the same place he claimed you as his.
since then, you’ve sworn to hate him. you’ve resented him. you felt like all those years that you two have built was nothing. you couldn’t even believe him at first when he spat out the words “we’re over” like it was nothing. 
five years, five years worth of unforgettable firsts. five fucking years to unlearn everything.
you were absolutely crushed back then. you even took a hiatus with everything going on in your life. you were a mess. you actually can’t believe sae had no remorse over this. were the five years you were together nothing for him? all those tears you two have shed, the firsts of everything, all those precious memories, were they all nothing? 
it hasn’t even been a year or so but it seemed like sae already moved on, which added more salt to your already open wound. he was flourishing with his career while all of this was going on. sae has been photographed multiple times leaving clubs with lipstick stains all over his neck. 
it stung of course. seeing him move on with his life as if he didn’t just ruin yours. that very night, you swore to yourself that you will never forgive itoshi sae for what he did.
never again would you open your heart to someone like itoshi sae.
itoshi sae, the man who broke your heart into two.
“earth to y/n?” the photographer snaps his fingers in front of you, breaking your little trance.
you apologize to the photographer, your cheeks heating up at the realization that you really got lost in your thoughts the moment you’ve met eyes with sae.
“as i was saying,” the photographer eyes you and sae, “the shoot is over. well done” he bows, motioning the people behind the scenes to clap for you and sae
almost immediately you stood up from your awkward position from sae. intentionally avoiding his hand that was held out for you to take. (you hate how he was still a gentleman to you, even after all these years)
you look around for your manager and strut towards him.
“we’re leaving. now” you say with no emotion in your voice, even walking farther ahead from your now confused manager. 
he takes a look around on what could’ve made you pissed off but sees no one but itoshi sae in the flesh. 
“but y/n, itoshi sae is here-” your manager gets cut off when there was a loud slam of a door nearby. he winces when he realizes it was you. he turns around and bows his head at the people on set.
“i apologize for y/n’s actions” 
with that, your manager runs after you.
sae could only stare at your direction with mixed feelings. a part of him was relieved that he got to see you again after all these years, yet he doesn’t understand why he was feeling off to find out that you still resented him. i mean, that was what he expected for his own actions all those years ago.
with a click of a tongue, he goes back to his own manager so they can finally go home after a long day.
you don’t even know why you were crying. tears blurring your vision as you try to find the exit out of this damned building.
you harshly wipe your tears, opening the last door to your left. you were met with the harsh, cold air of japan. you weren’t looking where you were going, barely even noticing that someone was by the door til you bumped into them.
the steel floors were making it hard to walk in your heels. so when you bumped into the said stranger, you lost your balance. 
the stranger had quick reflexes. they immediately caught you by your waist and your hands flew to their chest to keep yourself steady. you looked up at the stranger to apologize only to meet eyes again with the same teal eyes that belonged to no one other than sae fucking itoshi
you don’t know how long you two have been in this position until you see a bright flash in your peripheral vision.
you have just been papped by paparazzi with your ex boyfriend and sworn enemy, itoshi sae.
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002.
the headlines in both social media, news outlets and the such were exactly how you expected it.
it was crazy. 
the general public going wild, thinking that the once famed couple were now back together after how many years.
your phone was blowing up with emails upon emails. calls from friends and relatives to confirm the news themselves that you’ve been seeing sae again. you look at your manager beside you apologetically as he receives another phone call from what you think is another e-news outlet asking if the rumors circulating were true.
you have been summoned by your company for an emergency meeting as the whole situation was getting out of hand.
that was when you realize how big of a name itoshi sae was after all these years of blocking his name on twitter.
your PR team is currently a mess. they are currently working their asses off to put out a good story for your sudden reunion with the famed midfielder. 
“how many times do i have to tell you to be careful being papped after a shoot?” the head of your PR team, pinches the bridge of their nose. clearly this wasn’t the first time around 
“i was!” you defend yourself, “i didn’t even know it was him til i looked up..” you murmured
your manager facepalms at your response. how did you not know it was sae?
“so what i’m getting here..” the head puts their glasses on the table, “you didn’t “know” that it was the itoshi sae, your partner for this specific photoshoot, the famed midfielder of real madrid, itoshi sae?” they quote, looking at you like you just grew another head
you nod in content, “exactly” you grin, putting your thumbs up. in hopes it raises the mood. (it doesn’t, unfortunately)
“y/n, i hope you know this isn’t just something we can brush under the rug. this is not the same situation with yukimiya kenyu where you two were caught being cozy in his car” 
“yuki was literally just driving me home! and we’re close friends!” you defend yourself, yet again. 
“exactly! yukimiya is a close friend! while itoshi sae is not. that’s why this is such a big deal!”
you slump back to your seat. okay, maybe they were right. this was a lot harder to get around with especially since the public knows about your past relationship.
“luckily for you, we have talked things out with itoshi sae’s management,” it was your manager’s turn to talk. he stands up from the seat beside you and walks over to your PR team’s head. they exchange glances before nodding.
“we have come up with a way that this whole issue will be over soon” your manager starts. 
as if on cue, the doors of the meeting room suddenly open. you take a look on who could be entering this sacred room this late. surely it couldn’t be more of your PR team as they were all already present in the room. 
there stood with their hand still on the doorknob is no one other than sae, with his manager right behind him.
your jaw drops as you put two and two together.
you whipped your head towards your manager and the head of your PR team in both horror and disbelief.
no, it can’t be…
“you two will now be in an arranged relationship for the meanwhile. until your situation dies down” sae’s manager finishes, taking a seat next to sae, who took the seat next to you.
you could see your manager squeeze his eyes shut, knowing where this is going. you were about to have a fit right here right now.
“WHAT?!” you let out a loud scream. the whole floor probably heard you. 
sae also winces at how ear-piercing your scream was.
you abruptly stood up from your seat, snatching your purse from the table and stomped out of the meeting room. not forgetting to slam the door shut on the way out.
immediately you called up your two closest friends, reo and yukimiya to meet you at your apartment ASAP.
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003.
“so you’re telling me– us,” yukimiya pauses, looking between you, who has mascara running down your cheeks and reo, who was busy rubbing circles on your back as he hands you another tissue for you to blow your nose on, “that you are going to be in an arranged relationship with your ex, itoshi sae.. am i getting that right?” yukimiya confirms, waiting for your response
you nod before blowing your nose and throwing the now used tissue on the rising pile of tissues behind you.
“this is the worst day of my fucking life” you cried out, reaching out to reo to cry on his shoulders.
“oh, y/n” reo sighs, pulling you into his embrace as you cry your eyes out. 
you pull away from reo’s embrace, “i mean, why him, why now?!” you rambled, words getting choked up.
both reo and yukimiya could only frown. after all, even with their power, money and status, there was nothing they could do to help with your situation.
your doorbell suddenly rings, catching all three of you in surprise. who could be at your door right now?
yukimiya took the initiative of opening the door, only to be met with the eyes of the itoshi sae. barely noticing your manager behind him.
sae raises his eyebrow at the man in front of him. who was he and why was he at your apartment?
“yukimiya-san! i didn’t know you were over..” your manager sheepishly greets yuki, trying to break the growing tension between him and sae.
“who’s out there, yuki?” you croak out, trying to take a peek at the door from reo’s shoulders.
“it’s me, y/n” you hear your manager call out. you look at reo in confusion. what was your manager doing here?
gradually, you slowly stood up from your kitchen island and walked over to your front door.
now, you just expected a scolding from your manager from your little fit back at the company, that’s why he was at your place or so you thought. what you didn’t expect that you’d see itoshi sae again but this time, in your own space.
“have you lost your fucking mind?” you shot a look at your manager, who only winces as a response. 
“y/n- i can explain-“
“i made him take me here” sae speaks up for the first time. you felt your breath hitched. it’s been so long since you last talked to him, let alone heard him speak. (you’ve done everything you can and blocked every single thing related to sae. that meant interviews, news articles, you name it, you had his name and everything blocked and muted)
sae invites himself inside your apartment with your manager following suit as you stand there at your front door, stunned. 
reo is equally as shocked as you are when he sees itoshi sae casually walk to your living room as if it was his. before reo could open his mouth to say something, you come running in, fuming.
“who the fuck told you you can come inside MY house” you spat. your attitude turning a whole 180. 
sae only raises an eyebrow at you. “our team” he casually says. he then looks at your manager and cocks his head towards your direction. like he was trying to get your manager to tell you something.
“what now?!” this time it was your manager’s turn to get yelled at by you. he winces again before checking for something in his ipad.
“since you um.. walked out at our meeting earlier today… both managements has come to terms that you and itoshi sae would be living together for the meantime”
silence fills the room, the entire apartment if we were being honest
your vision goes dark, the next thing you know and you black out.
as you slowly regain your consciousness, you hear some people talking. well, to you it sounded like they were slurring because you couldn’t really comprehend what they were saying. slowly, you open your eyes. the first person you see is a frantic reo who seemed to be fanning your face with yukimiya holding your hand
“where am i?” you grunt, feeling some dull ache on the back of your head and lower back. 
“you fainted” sae points out. staring at you who was on the ground. you sat up and stared at sae, wide eyed. “what the hell is he still doing here?!” you ask in distraught. you thought everything prior to this was all just a fever dream, or a nightmare as you’d like to call it
your manager, who was getting you a glass of water comes running to your aid. he crouches and tells you to drink up- to which you do.
“we were discussing your current situation with itoshi sae until you fainted… ” your manager starts, you choke on your water after hearing those words but thankfully didn’t start a coughing fit. you motioned your manager to continue so that you’d finally hear the end of this dreadful moment
your manager's eyes flicker between you and sae, “we’ve come up with an agreement that until the time being, itoshi sae would be living with you and you’d market yourselves as a couple. sae has already consented and agreed with the contract and your PR team as well…” he finishes, clutching his ipad close to his chest
reo, who was listening intently, felt like it was unfair for you to be in this type of situation regardless if it was an order from your company
“isn’t unfair for y/n though? she herself didn’t consent to this contract right? doesn’t this violate her own rights of code of ethics?” reo interferes, giving your manager a look. you look at reo and smiled. maybe you’ll ask him to contact the finest lawyers of japan that he knows after this
your manager was about to speak up but sae beat him to it.
“i was the one who suggested this whole setup, not their company. so technically, this isn’t “violating y/n’s rights of code of ethics” as it’s not even printed on a contract because simply, there is no contract” sae states, mocking reo’s tone of voice, giving him a side eye before turning his attention back to you. 
this time it was yukimiya who steps in. he turns to sae with his eyebrows raised. “isn’t there another way to get around this? not just by your means?” yukimiya pauses, pushing his glasses up, “i mean, why does it have to be like this where you’ll live with y/n for an issue that could be squashed with just a single article denying your relationship or involvement with y/n?”
sae sits up straight, staring yukimiya down with an icy stare. “this doesn’t concern you”
yukimiya and reo both stand up, “actually it does. y/n is our friend” reo hisses, glaring at the red head who merely just yawns and rolls his eyes.
was sae even taking this seriously? 
sae sighs, a bored expression on his face. “this is matters between me and y/n only”
finally having enough of his bullshit, you got up from the ground and walked in front of sae.
“what exactly are you planning, itoshi sae?” you narrow your eyes at him. this was the first time in years you’ve looked at him. you note how appearance wise, he hasn’t changed one bit. 
sae chuckles a bit, catching you by surprise. what’s so funny?
“drop the formalities, y/n. you know me better than everyone else in this room” he scoffs, eyeing you from head to toe.
sae won’t lie. he thinks you were still beautiful the day he left you. to him, you were always the prettiest in the room and from the way his heart raced after seeing you for the first time again in years, he knows himself that thought stayed the same.
he watches your eyes soften for a second before it goes back to your signature glare.
“actually, I don't,” you say dryly, crossing your arms. “so, tell me. what exactly are you gonna get out of this?” 
sae sighs. he doesn’t know himself either but he wasn’t just about to say that out loud. he doesn’t know what got into him all of a sudden. was it because he was curious about how you were doing? was he intrigued? did he somehow miss you all of a sudden because he saw you again?
a part of him always longed for you even after you two have gone your own separate ways. it was hard not to, considering you have spent a chunk of your lives together. not to mention, you two grew up with each other and built blossoming careers together hand in hand. 
it was only until he finally got recruited for division a of real madrid where he thought it would be best if you guys would stop what you have in order to be the best version of himself— wrong. 
he realized he fucked up that maybe that wasn’t the best option when he realized he needed you more than ever. you were his best support system. you were always there with him during the hardest times holding his hand but it was already too late. the damage had been done and it was irreversible. 
the day he broke up with you, or the day he fucked up everything was also the last time he ever saw or heard from you ever again. 
sae tried. he tried and tried and tried to reach out to you. he tried searching for your socials, your contact information, literally everything he can get his hands on. but even with his power and money in the world, it was still not enough to find you.
the only updates he had of you was the ads that were plastered all around social media and in the busy shopping districts of the cities he’s in. it was almost like a constant reminder of what he lost. 
so shocked was an understatement when you were his partner for the commercial shoot his manager had booked him for some random luxury brand. 
after all those years, he found you again.
to say the stars were on his side when you two got papped by the paparazzi is a bit selfish on sae’s end. as much as he fucking despises the paparazzi as they tend to ruin things for him, he’s quite glad that for once that they did something right.
they brought you back to him.
so sae couldn’t just let this opportunity of a lifetime slide. even if this so called “scandal” could easily just be cleared out with a simple denying of such rumor. but sae couldn’t just let this end like that. 
he wants to fix everything he broke. sae wants another chance.
“this is pointless” you deadpan, after waiting for sae to speak. he was just sitting there, staring right back at you for god knows how long that you begin to become conscious.
sae looked like he just snapped out of his train of thought as he shook his head before clearing his throat. 
“it’s a win-win situation for both of us” sae blurts, “you get more publicity out of this–”
yukimiya and reo both looked at him like he was crazy.
“excuse you— with or without you, y/n is already famous. hell, you don’t even know how many brands are waiting for her to reach back at them!”
“do you live under a rock or something? how do you not know y/n is one of the, if not the number one top model of the country?”
you were secretly thankful that you called both yukimiya and reo beforehand. not only you got an ego boost, but it gave sae a taste of your own reality that you are where you are now because he left you
a small smirk tugs on your lips when sae frowns. you watch him chew his bottom lip, a telltale sign that he was thinking of something to save his ass
“well, if you aren’t gonna get something out of this.. i have” you say, catching everyone’s attention, including your own manager.
your manager looks at you with his head tilted to the side. mouthing “what do you mean?”
“i’ll only agree to this if after this whole scandal is over, i don’t ever want to see you again” you propose to sae. it was only fair for it to end like this as one, he was the one who suggested this idea in the first place. two, you can never be too complacent with sae who apparently has no motive regarding this. this was sae we’re talking about, he’s bound to plot something and three, you can finally find the answers you’ve been yearning for after all these years. might as well use this as an opportunity to get your well deserved closure.
there was a glint of hope in sae’s eyes.
“deal”
you hear yukimiya and reo yell a bunch of lines like “seriously y/n?” but all you can focus on is sae who’s also looking right back at you.
your manager claps his hands in joy, immediately dialing your company about your decision. sae takes this time to call his own manager to probably tell him to bring his stuff in. 
did you make the right decision? you’re not too sure. only time can tell.
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004. 
today was the first day of you officially “dating” sae again.
also the first day of living with sae, for the meantime
just a little after you’ve come to an agreement with sae with the set up of your rekindled “relationship”, both managements didn’t waste a single second on confirming the news that the nation’s sweethearts have gone back together
needless to say, both of your names are trending and is the current talk of the town
so your first agenda (from both PR teams) is that you both post strikingly similar instagram stories as if you were together the night prior. (in which, you two were.. force binded by a non-existent contract)
it was a good thing that you chose an apartment that had a spare guest room because god forbid you’d even dare to sleep in the same bed with your ex. 
you didn’t give sae a warning that you were already gonna post something. just a quick snap of your window, that holds the view of shibuya, with a little sunlight peeking through. you captioned it with a little “good morning indeed” with a cheeky emoji just to spice things up. 
sae, who was in the next room, was casually scrolling through instagram when he sees that you posted a new instagram story. he clicks his tongue in annoyance at the fact you didn’t even give him a heads up. quickly improvising, he took a mirror selfie from the vanity mirror that you have around in your guest bedroom. 
you started your day with making your own breakfast. not even bothering to call sae. hell, he can starve for all you care. after all, he was not your responsibility. you only agreed to do this because frankly you had no other choice from your company.
while waiting for your eggs, it didn’t take you a while to also notice that sae already posted his part of the agenda. thinking of it as nothing, you innocently clicked on his profile. his story loads and wow. resonating with your caption, good morning indeed!
sae posted a shirtless mirror selfie. he was still under the covers but made sure his torso was seen on the mirror. 
“take a screenshot, it’d last longer” sae says flatly, moving past you to your fridge. you jolt in surprise, almost dropping your phone in the process. “what the fuck!” you yell out, a hand over your chest. 
you hear sae chuckling behind you and the fridge opening
“you got all that money stocked up somewhere and yet you don’t even have groceries?” sae comments, noting your almost empty fridge. there were only some milk boxes and some of those edible collagen jellies that help you with swelling when you have early morning shoots and the such.
sae takes the last chocolate milk box you had that was hidden away at the back of your fridge
“well, my manager does it for me and i usually eat at reo’s or yukimiya’s– is that the last of my milk?!” you pried your eyes off your phone to see sae casually sipping on the last milk box you were saving
“so?”
“that’s mine” you argued, getting up from the kitchen island to snatch it from sae. you stomp over to him and tried to swipe it off his hands. unfortunately for you, sae is an athlete and that meant he had reflexes like no other. he raises his arm high just before you were able to grab the milk box from him.
“sae, give it back” you grit your teeth, standing on your tippy toes, trying or attempting to take the milk box from sae’s hold but the height difference is just something else. 
sae leans down and gets all over your face. “come on, you can do it,” he teases, eyes fixated on yours. 
this feeling almost felt too familiar. almost like a wave of nostalgia just hit you in the face. the memories you’ve been trying to suppress all coming back 
you snapped out of your little trance when you realized the position you two were in. 
“my eggs are burning” you lie, leaving sae dumbfounded. you scurry off to your stove to finish what you were cooking while sae goes and sits on your kitchen island. 
he watches you plate your breakfast and sit on the other end of the kitchen island. you actually felt him staring but chose to ignore him. the sound of his stomach grumbling breaks the awkward silence.
“where’s my breakfast?” he asks, voice small
you shrug, “i don’t know”
“you didn’t make me one?”
“why will i?” you raise a brow, happily munching on your bacon while sae could only look at you in disbelief.
later that day you two had your own schedules. he had practice and other stuff to do while you had another meeting about different commercial offers and a lunch date with reo and yukimiya just like you promised the two.
you got home later than sae. you were about to grab some water from the fridge when you notice that it was fully stocked with groceries. you can’t help but smile a little at the gesture. 
you did your usual night routine before getting comfy in bed. just before you were about to hit the hay, you don’t forget to send sae a quick message, thanking him for the groceries. 
[11:43] you: thanks for doing the groceries ig
[11:44] sae: i couldn’t just let myself starve here, can i?
you rolled your eyes at his reply. he’s still so sarcastic even after all these years
[11:45] you: whatever 🙄
[11:46] sae: i also restocked that milk you love so much. call it truce from earlier today
[11:46] you: who told you it was my favorite? 🤨
[11:47] sae: gut feeling, call it old habit
you raised a brow at his text. what did he mean by that? before you could type your reply, your phone notifies you that sae sent another message
[11:49] sae: jk. your manager told me
you didn’t realize you were holding in your breath. you let out a sigh of relief after reading his message. you were not gonna let him get under your skin. not anymore
you ended up not replying to him. instead, you shut your phone off to reflect on today’s events, hoping that this all ends soon. your phone suddenly dings again. it was a notification from sae.
[11:55] sae: i’m going to sleep now. goodnight, y/n
it’s officially been a week of living with sae and pretending to be a couple in front of the cameras and the public. to think you’d even last this long is an understandment on it’s own.  
for this day, both managements wanted you two to be seen out and about in public doing whatever you two wished to do. 
you were debating on what you two should do that won’t involve much physical contact like going out for shopping because that only meant that you two would be forced to hold hands which is something you don’t want to do for obvious reasons. you’d rather die than to be papped with sae holding hands
“what do you want to do today?” sae asks from the couch. you two were already all dressed up. intentionally matching your outits just for the sake of it. sae was wearing a maroon turtleneck with holes in them with a white long sleeve shirt underneath and some track pants? you don't question his outfit much further because why would you exert the effort to do so? 
you were wearing something similar. a maroon crop top with some leggings to match the laid back outfit of your fake boyfriend. 
“what can we do without much physical contact?” you pondered, a finger tapping on your chin. sae scoffs at your question, mumbling about what’s wrong with physical contact with him. you almost wanted to tell him “everything” but that would just start another argument today
“how about we get some coffee?” sae offers, unable to think of more activities to do in such short notice. you hum in agreement, coffee does sound good right now. you get up from the couch and grab the keys to your car
“what are you doing?” sae asked. you stop in your tracks and hold out your keys for him to see. “we’re taking my car” sae says, showing off his. 
not putting up much of a fight, you agreed. it was getting tiring driving yourself around anyway.
you two arrive at the coffee shop sae graciously let you choose in no time (by graciously, he meant that he’s good with anything you choose) you then decide on sitting by the window where you know the paparazzi will be in front at in no time to capture this date between rekindled lovers
you sit at your chosen table by the window while you wait for sae to order something for the both of you. telling him that you’re okay with whatever since this cafe was your favorite.
it didn’t take sae that long to come back with your orders. he sets the tray down and you find an abundance of sweets and pastries. you look up at him confused but he simply shrugs. he then places your drink down. you take the receipt that was hanging off the tray to read everything he has ordered.
looks like he ordered everything on the menu with the sweets and pastries, which is not surprising really. when you read what he got you however,
“you ordered me a spanish latte?” you ask, taking the drink from the table. 
sae nods, taking a sip from his own drink. “something wrong?” 
you shake your head no. you just can’t wrap your head at the fact he ordered your usual go-to drink.
“nothing, it’s just i'm surprised that you still remember what i usually order in coffee shops” you shrug, finally sipping on your drink. spanish lattes does always hit the spot for you
“do you think i have forgotten?” sae raises a brow, a slight frown forming on his lips. you rolled your eyes at his comment. 
“well, it’s been a while, don’t you think?” you retort, avoiding his hard stare. technically, it’s been almost two years since the breakup. one of you were bound to forget each other’s habits and the such. 
there was silence again after that. an awkward one at that
“let’s take our post now so we can leave” you say, taking pictures of the food in front of you while keeping sae in the frame. sae simply nods and does the same. the photo you decided to post was mostly all the food sae ordered with him in the background. you purposely cut off his head just for the thrill of it. you do tag sae in the instagram story though with the caption “coffee run” 
sae’s post was a bit different. he simply posted a candid shot of you taking pictures of the food in front of you. for captions, sae isn’t much of a caption person because he thinks they defeat the purpose of photos so instead he just adds a heart emoji with your username next to it. 
it didn’t take much for the paparazzi to find your whereabouts. just like planned, they were outside the window you two were seated in taking photos after photos. 
“do we go now?” sae asks, eyeing the amount of people that were outside the cafe. 
“yeah..” you trail off, not really expecting a whole crowd to form outside. sae must've sensed that you were tensed with the way he stands next to you when you two were leaving the coffee shop
the moment you two step foot outside, it was an absolute frenzy. the press were everywhere on your faces. asking questions from all sorts of directions that it actually made you dizzy. 
you were never one for crowded crowds. especially when they topple over each other just to take the perfect photo or get an exclusive. it was just never your cup of tea
you covered your eyes from the bright flashes that were all over your face, trying to maneuver around the paparazzi to get to sae’s car faster but the paparazzi was too much for you to handle. you instinctively leaned on sae for support as your legs start to feel wobbly. sae immediately catches on and wraps an arm around your waist securely, pushing forward against the hoarde of people in front of you guys
“get out of the fucking way!” sae barks, pushing the people in front of your faces. the group of paparazzi do make way for you guys as you finally reach sae’s car. 
sae unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you to enter first. he shields any possible camera that was trying to capture your face with his body. even going as far as pushing them away making some of the paparazzi stumble and fall on their asses. 
once you were secured in your seat, he runs over to his side of the car and starts the car before speeding off. not wasting a single second for some short interview.
“you okay?” sae steals a glance at your slumped state, before turning his attention back to the road in front of him. 
“... yeah, just dizzy” you say meekly, rubbing your temples. “i’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit, sae” you murmur, leaning against the window before drifting off to sleep.  
sae sighs and speeds up faster so you two could get home sooner. ‘damn paparazzi’ he thinks to himself, not noticing how his knuckles have turned white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. 
the car comes to a halt when the traffic lights beam red. sae couldn’t help but look at your state. he always knew you were bad with crowds but yet you still fulfilled your lifelong dream to be a model. he wonders who took care of you during flash mobs when you were out in the streets. 
was it your manager? was it that reo guy? or was it yukimiya aka that person he doesn’t really like. sae hates how close you are with him. sae will also never forget your scandal with him. he can still remember it like it was yesterday when the news dropped that you may or may not be in a relationship with your fellow model yukimiya kenyu after being papped being cozy inside his car. 
practice was hell that day for real madrid and sae may or may not have punctured a soccer ball out of pure rage. 
the damned light finally turns green and thankfully you were at the last street before the turn to your apartment complex.
sae parks the car and turns to take a good look at your sleeping figure. you look too peaceful to wake up. so he gets out of the car and goes to your side to pick you up bridal style. 
he gently puts one of your arms around his neck (for safe measure) and loops his under your knees to carry you. with the help of the security guards around, he presses the elevator up to your penthouse suite. 
for once in his life, sae is thankful that he was an athlete as he successfully tapped in your passcode to unlock your front door with you in his arms. when he reaches your bedroom, he gently sets you down on your bed. 
sae was about to leave to make some dinner just before you wake up but was stopped by your hand reaching for his. 
“stay..” you mumbled, tugging his arm. sae hesitates for a bit, unsure if you were actually conscious or was just sleep talking. sae watches your eyebrows furrow when you notice he still wasn’t beside you. clicking your tongue in annoyance, you tug on sae’s arm harder so he gets the hint
“okay, okay” sae hums, slowly getting in your bed. he’s unsure himself on what he should do. should he stay still, wrap an arm around you, what?
to his surprise, you were snuggling next to him. your head nestling to his chest. sae lets out a small gasp. he definitely didn’t see this coming. 
coming to a realization that no harm would be done if he wraps an arm around you, he slowly drapes his arm over your waist. sae suddenly feels like he was on top of the world, like everything suddenly made sense to sae. 
sae caresses your cheek, brushing the stray hairs from your face. 
“you still look beautiful the day i lost you..” sae whispers. he debates on stealing a kiss. he weighs out the pros and the cons and figures that it was more of a liability if you ever find out he stole a kiss from you, especially when you were asleep. that’s gonna have to be for another time. 
sae was beginning to feel sleepy. he carefully drapes the duvet across your bodies. not even a moment later, sae is now fast asleep with you in his arms
you find yourself plush against something hard and warm. you try tossing to the other side but you were being held securely around your waist. your eyes shot up, now fully awake and aware of your surroundings.
“good morning” sae rasps, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine. 
“what are you doing in my bed?” you whisper-yelled, actually genuinely surprised to see him next to you. your heart was racing, like it was about to jump out of your chest. did something happened yesterday? you couldn’t quite remember everything after leaving the coffee shop. it almost felt like a hazy dream
sae reluctantly unwraps his arm around you and scoots to the edge of the bed. you almost pout at the warmth that disappears but you internally scold yourself for thinking of such things.
“you passed out in the car and i brought you here” sae explains, now sitting up. “i’ll go make breakfast. stay put” he pats your leg before excusing himself to leave your bedroom. you lay there confused because that wasn’t enough to explain why he was quite literally sleeping next to you. 
just the mere fact that you slept next to him sent you into a frenzy. you grab your phone and immediately dialed reo
“hello?” reo answers groggily, you checked your phone for the time and it was literally 8 in the morning. 
“reo!” you hushed, trying not to catch the attention of sae “something happened yesterday!” 
“what?”
“we slept together…?” your voice going up an octave, chewing on your lip as you await for reo’s reaction
a beat of silence passes by. you thought reo may have accidentally ended the call
“YOU DID WHAT?!” reo basically screams at your ear. you had to remove your phone from your ear from the impact of reo’s shrill scream. “DON’T TELL ME YOU GOT BACK TOGETHER WITH HIM IN JUST A WEEK’S NOTICE—”
“NOT IN THAT WAY, DIPSHIT” you say abruptly, cutting reo off. “i mean like.. we just slept in the same bed after yesterday’s turn of events…” you trail off, trying to remember every significant detail that eventually lead up to you and sae ultimately sleeping with each other.
“my guess is with the paparazzi. i just saw the photos” reo says, typing away on his keyboard. “not gonna lie y/n, you and sae do make a good couple” he adds, giggling
you huff over the phone, earning a hefty laugh from the other end. 
“talk to him. clearly you need it” reo advices. it was like he knows where this was going. “ i gotta go for now, y/n. i’ll call you back later. duty calls. ciao!” reo ends the call before you could even say something. 
you threw your phone on the other side of the bed, groaning as you put your head in your hands. what was happening to you
there was a faint knock on your door, probably sae was gonna tell you that breakfast was ready but to your surprise, he brought the breakfast to you.. in bed.
sae walks in with a little bed tray that you didn’t even know you owned filled with some breakfast. 
“was all this necessary?” you say in disbelief. sae simply shrugs and sits by the foot of your bed.
“i contacted your manager about your state and he says he’ll be coming over to check up on you later” he notes, typing away on his phone with one hand. sae turns to you and motions for you to start digging in. “c’mon, eat up” 
you feel your face heat up at his extravagant gestures. he was a man of service after all. even during your relationship, sae wasn’t the type to be vocal about his love for you. it was mostly through actions may it be subtle or not. you can feel the love with the way he does everything for you.
with a small smile, you start to eat the breakfast he made. 
“sae,” you call. he looks up from his phone, a confused look on his face. 
“need something?”
“come here” you motioned for him to scoot closer to you. to which he happily obliges. he is now sitting right in front of you. 
he watches you cut a piece of your pancake and stabbed it with your fork before holding it up for him.
“here,” you say sheepishly, not even looking at sae in the eye. sae looked at you like you just lost your mind. 
“can’t let you not eat your own cooking..” you mumbled, feeling your face burn in both embarrassment or something you can’t pinpoint. with a chuckle, he takes the fork from you. unintentionally brushing your hands together.
in an instant, you snatch your hand back as he quietly eats the pancake you’ve given him.
things are changing between you and sae and you’re not sure if you like it.
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005.
it’s been a few days since the whole ordeal with you and sae in bed together. your management gave you guys a few days off just to keep things at bay with the paparazzi after the whole fiasco of you almost fainting because of the sea of paparazzi outside trying to take photos. 
your manager did end up checking up on you that day just like sae has mentioned. you told him off that you were fine and just needed more resting before you can resume with your work. he reluctantly agrees and goes ahead and reports your status with your company.
reo and yukimiya also came over for the past few days. just to check things up with you after your pictures were published for the public. you had a talk with your two closest friends about your current situation with sae. 
yukimiya was a bit unsure for you while reo advised that they’ll be there with you for every decision you make. he also opted that you two should have an open forum about each other’s whereabouts since the break up. clearly you still had unanswered questions.
sae was out again for his daily practice. although he did tell you that he’d be back around the afternoon. 
you take this opportunity of being alone to actually think about everything for the past week. 
this few weeks has been a whole rollercoaster. not only you’ve been reunited with your ex, you had to be in a “fake” relationship with him again for the media, and now it’s like you and sae were back to your old routines all those years ago. 
a part of you does miss being able to call sae as yours, not just for the sake of the cameras but just because you really do love him and you want to be with him, but this time for real. yet, another part of you is scared that maybe there’s a catch to this. maybe in the end sae was just using you for his own sake. 
you made a promise to yourself that you were not gonna have him play with your heart like that anymore. not again, never again.
but here you are, willing to take the same risk again. the things you are willing to do just to call him yours. 
because at the end of the day, it will always be itoshi sae.
no one else has your heart the way sae has it. 
you barely notice that sae has arrived back from practice til he was waving a hand in front of your face.
“y/n” he jabs a finger at the side of your head, an amused look on his face. “what are you thinking about?” sae hums, plopping down on the couch next to you. 
“nothing much, just about life”you hissed, clutching the spot he just poked you. you leaned back on the couch, stealing a glance at sae but you made eye contact instead. immediately you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up.
sae snickers next to you, a small smile on his face as he takes a good look at you. 
“having a midlife crisis at your young age?” sae pokes your sides making you jump. you let out a little yelp, causing sae to smirk. 
“don’t even think about it sae itoshi— AH!” you hold your hands out in defense mode. you know that devilish look on sae’s face. sae’s fingers reach your sides before you could even finish your menacing (not) threat. 
your laughter fills the living room. 
oh how sae missed this. how he missed coming home from practice and to have you wait for him. how sae missed you.
sae stops tickling you to let you catch your breath. barely even noticing the position you two were in. he was on top of you, hands on each side of your head. your cheeks painted red, chest rising rapidly as you try to control your breathing. 
“can i kiss–” 
the front door slams open to reveal reo and yukimiya in tow with some food.
“y/n! we brought you some food!” reo happily chirps, setting the food down on your kitchen counter. sae’s eyes immediately widen and rushes to get off of you. he stumbles and falls on the floor, just right in front of reo’s feet.
reo and sae make eye contact. reo awkwardly smiles at the now embarrassed sae.
but sae being sae, he brushed it off like he was in the middle of push ups. 
“... and 50. 50 push ups done” sae puffs, pushing himself off the ground, pretending to wipe the non existent sweat on his forehead and ushers away to his room. not missing reo’s comment before he slams the door shut.
“i’m gonna just pretend i didn’t see you fall right in front of me” reo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. “anyway y/n, we got you some food. i forgot that athlete was living with you sooo.. it’s up to you to give his share” reo shows you the amount of food he just got you.
yukimiya giggles behind him. he pulls reo to the side before giving you his infamous smirk
“reo, we gotta go now” yukimiya smiles slyly at you. he takes a good look at your ruffled shirt, flushed cheeks and messy hair. 
“what? we just got here!” reo complains, looking back at yukimiya, who points out your current state. he then whispers something to reo that you obviously can’t hear. you stand there with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you wait for your two best friends to fill you in
“i’m literally right here” you rolled your eyes.
“oh!” reo gasps, eyes wide as he seems to put two and two together. he covers his mouth like he just witnessed something scandalous. 
you were about to open your mouth to say protest against what allegations yukimiya has of you but both reo and yukimiya bolt out the door. yelling about how they were sorry for disturbing something while cackling. 
“those bitches..” you muttered, shaking your head. you walk over to the kitchen to go through what reo just got you. of course it was his favorite steak with some side dishes. 
“are they gone?” you hear sae call out from his room, his head poking out the door. 
you laugh, “yeah. you can come out now” 
you hear the door open and sae comes walking in the kitchen with nothing but sweatpants. you let out a squeak as your hands fly to your eyes, covering them from seeing sae’s half naked body.
sae scoffs at your reaction. “you’re acting like you aren’t used to it”
“was used to it” you correct him. sae’s mood drops a bit. you awkwardly fiddle with the hem of the plastic. taking out the plastic containers to at least lift up the now sour atmosphere. 
sae looks at the meals you’ve settled down on the counter. “from reo?” he asks, going ahead and taking out some chopsticks. 
he must be starving from coming home after practice.
you slid the plastic container that held reo’s favorite steak to sae. his eye widens and shakes his head. he pushes it back to you. it becomes a silent tug of war. sae ended up losing because you were starting to get upset and he can tell by the way your lips are jutted out and you were pushing harder, causing some of the sauce to spill out.
“okay, damn..” sae mutters, accepting his defeat. you let out a victory cheer by dancing a little in your seat. sae couldn’t help but smile. now here you were, watching him chomp down the food reo initially got for you.
“let’s head out somewhere” sae says, poking you with his chopsticks. you swat his hands away as you scowl at him. going out all of a sudden after he just ate?
“where are we going?”
“places” 
you look up at him unsure. you didn’t really want to go anywhere this week knowing that paparazzi might be up on your asses again. you weren’t gonna risk your health again for just some dumb post
“but we’re on break with posting though” you protest. was sae really serious about heading out? 
sae pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. something he only pulls when he really wants to do something or get his way. something you couldn’t resist. you guessed old habits really die hard
“please?” 
you avert your gaze elsewhere because those teal eyes are only trouble for you. you hear sae sigh beside you and you realized that was your last straw.
“fine”
you look back at sae who had a small smile on his face. his face screaming “i know you still can’t resist me” and quite frankly you wanted to punch the living daylights out of his smug face. 
“i’m not gonna get dressed up or anything though. just a hoodie and a hat to keep our identities hidden” you say, getting up from the barstool to head over to your room to get an oversized hoodie and your hat.
“wasn’t counting on it” sae says, humming to himself that he got you to agree.
it didn’t take long for you guys to get moving. you two were now on your way to wherever sae was taking you. even if you kept asking where you two were going, sae simply shushes you and tells you to just sit back and relax
you were leaning towards the window, watching the city skies fade as you two drive aimlessly around the city. your phone connected to his aux, softly playing some tunes in the background.
your eyes peer over to sae who had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was used to prop himself up against the window. you find yourself smiling at the memories going back to you. 
the old late night drives with sae just to clear your minds. 
the route sae was taking you felt awfully familiar. you sit up straight and looked outside to see that you were going up a familiar hill. you snap your head towards sae. sae catches your stare and winks at your direction.
the car eventually comes to a stop. sae silently turns off the car and gets out with you following behind him. there you realize where he took you. sae took you back to your favorite spot to get away from it all. the hilltop where you can get a whole view of the ever so busy city of shibuya. 
the same place sae asked you to be his,
the same place sae broke things off with you,
“what are we doing here, sae?” you ask, sitting on top of the hood of his car. sae follows suit. he sits next to you, observing the view in front of him.
“to unwind” he says flatly, putting his hood on. you can’t help but look at him. what did he mean by that?
“you looked pretty occupied today, so i just thought i’d bring you here-”
you furrowed your brows, “then why here?”
sae stays silent. the sound of the city filling your ears. you can’t help but think that it was now or never. it was the perfect time to get things across. for your own peace of mind, and for the sake of it all. 
it was silent between you and sae all of a sudden. you almost wanted to laugh at how ironic it is that you’d end up in this place again for the third time in a row with the same person. 
‘how nostalgic’ you think to yourself. you get up from the hood of the car and walked towards the wooden fence. just to get a clearer view and to get some air that you so desperately needed before talking to sae. 
“you know, this reminds me of the time you took me up here for the first time,” you start, kicking the rocks just by your feet. sae’s ears perk up at the sudden mention of the memory.
“i was so happy that day. to think we’d last for over five years. i was the happiest when i was with you, sae” you continued, smiling to yourself as you recalled everything.
sae can’t help but feel there’s more to what you’re saying. he can’t help but anticipate the bomb that you were about to drop.
“til one day, you brought me out here again. this time, to break up” you turn around to face sae who had an expression you can’t comprehend. his hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his hoodie
“you broke me that day, sae” you breathe out, looking up at the moon. “and to think not even two weeks later i see you with someone else” you let out a laugh. to sae it sounded forced. 
“i hate you, sae itoshi” you finally look at him again, sae averts from your hard gaze. 
“i hate how you took all my firsts, i hate how you talk to me with that voice, i hate how i know your morning routine better than anyone else, i hate how you always opt to cook because you know i suck at cooking, i hate how you know me like the back of your hand..” you list off, with every list you say, you take a step forward. 
“i hate how even after all these years, even after you hurt me, even how you broke me to pieces, i hate how i can’t ever find myself to hate you” you finish. a teardrop running down your cheeks. 
“i hate how i still love you..” your voice was shaky. your hands were trembling, here you were, confessing your heart to the guy who initially broke it. 
you broke your promise to yourself. 
with a deep sigh, you fixed your composure. you harshly wipe the tears that were running down your cheeks before turning your back on sae again to face the city you live in. 
“i just have a question for you, sae…” you take a deep breath. finally. you were gonna get the answers to your questions. those times you’ve doubted yourself, those sleepless nights wondering where it all went wrong, nights where you ask yourself if you were ever enough for sae.. 
you were finally gonna get your well deserved answers. 
“why? what did i do wrong? was i not enough for you?” 
sae silently moves towards you. he pulls your head to his chest where you freely the tears fall. 
you push him off of you, you were not gonna let yourself be fooled much longer.  
“was it worth it, sae? was throwing away our years together worth it?” you seethed, tears pricking your eyes.
sae’s eyes widened, “i–”
“you know sae, even if i was in a room with all the people i love the most. i’d still choose you and you all over again. i will always choose you, sae” you cut him off, trembling. words shaking as you are basically spilling your heart to the guy who broke it into a million pieces.
sae’s heart breaks at the scene before him. it was too late for him to realize the damage he has done to you. for you to act like this.
“that’s why i agreed to be in this fake relationship with you. i wanted to find out why you did this to me, to us” you admit, tears now fully flowing. “i just..” you weren’t able to finish what you were trying to sae as you sob in front of sae.
“why sae?.. just, why?”
you barely notice sae approaching. the next thing you knew, he pulls your head to his chest. 
“shh… let it out” he says, his free arm rubbing your back as you cry your heart out. finally, after all those years, it felt good to release everything. like a million bricks has been lifted off your shoulders. 
sae pulls away, cupping your cheeks as he wipes the tears pouring down your cheeks with his thumb. his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. 
“don’t look at me like that, sae..” you say in a low voice, almost like a whisper. peering away from sae’s eyes. 
sae slowly leans in and before he knows it his lips are just ghosting over yours. without a second, sae smashes your lips together.
your eyes widened. you wanted to push him away. you put your hands on his chest ready to push him away, but something in you is stopping you from doing so. 
how you missed this. how you missed sae
how sae missed this. how sae missed you
you pull apart, catching your breath. you look up at sae to see him crying too. he cups your cheeks, caressing them with his thumb.
“i’m sorry” was all he could say. he puts his forehead against yours, teal eyes fixated on yours. you can tell with his eyes that he was sincere. sae was also shaking as he holds you, his whole body language screaming guilt.
“i was young and stupid. i thought i’d be better off without you but i realized that i wasn’t. it was too late by then.” he explains, looking down at your feet instead of meeting your eyes.
you put your hand over his, squeezing them. relishing in the moment of two ex lovers putting the past behind them.
“i tried reaching out for you, you know?” sae brings up, laughing to himself at how stupid he sounded. “but knowing you, i knew you’d probably act like you never existed. i had to find out the hard way” he scoffs at the end. 
“eventually, the stars brought me to you again” sae finally looks at you in the eye. “i took that as a chance to try and redeem myself. i think it failed though,” sae admits sheepishly, “i was persistent. i wanted you back and i did everything i can just to keep you with me” 
you listen to sae stumble with his words. he’s trying. he’s actually proving that he was genuinely sorry for everything.
“i never stopped loving you, y/n” sae admits with a sad smile, “i never did” 
you tear up again at his confession. because frankly, you were the same. 
sae opens his mouth to say something but instead, you crash your lips against his. sae doesn’t move for a second but relaxes as soon as he realizes what was going on. he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he can. 
“i love you,” 
“i love you too,”
you two find yourselves basking under the moonlight once again. fixing and treating each other’s wounds as you two try again. this time you two are sure that whatever you two have planned for each other, you two will make it right. 
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006.
the sound of an alarm blaring through the room wakes you up from your sleep. you feel some shuffling behind you and suddenly the room turns quiet again.
“did i wake you?” you hear sae’s morning voice ring through your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a small whine, nodding your head yes. 
sae chuckles, and tightens his hold around your body under the covers. “good morning to you too, baby” he kisses your cheek. 
you open one eye before twisting your body around to face him. 
“morning..” you yawn, leaving a trail of kisses from his jaw to his adam’s apple.
“still didn’t get enough from last night, hm?” sae teases, rubbing circles on your hips. you feel your cheeks heat up. you slapped his chest before turning your back on him again. 
“our managers will kill us if we’re late” you remind him of your schedules for the day. you sit up, slipping on his shirt that was lying on the floor, recalling last night’s events. you looked at yourself from the mirror to see some love bites all over your neck up to your chest. a gentle reminder that you were now his again.
“they can wait,” sae murmurs, slipping his hands under your (his) shirt. you let out a giggle before pushing his hands off of you. 
“sae come on!” you tug on his arm as you two head out to your bathroom. 
after what seems like an hour or so due to sae’s rowdy hands. you two finally arrive at the red carpet of the luxury brand you two have modeled for. 
the screams of fans fills your ears as you wait in of the car and onto the red carpet where a line of reporters were waiting. 
sae, being the gentleman he is and a marketing genius, he obviously makes a scene for your entrances. he gets out of the car first and holds out his hand for you to take. the audience goes crazy as you two make your entrance. 
“sae, y/n! over here!” you hear a bunch of reporters yell out. lights, and flashes all around. 
you and sae stop at the first reporter on the line. he greets you guys with a smile before starting his short interview. it was the usual questions about the brand and you guys feel about being the new faces of it.
“well, clearly they have a good eye for casting both y/n and i as the new faces for their brand” sae answers for the both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. 
the interviewer gushes at how cool his answer was and proceeds to ask you another question.
“my, my, my, miss y/n. you look lovely as usual but i can’t help but wonder, what does it feel like to be back together with sae itoshi?” he asks, intrigued, his microphone on your face. 
you look at sae for approval and he simply smiles and motions for you to say whatever you want to say. 
“well, it still shocks me til this day that i got back together with sae” you joked, making the interviewer laugh at your response and sae who fakes being offended. you laugh at his reaction before answering seriously, 
“but seriously. i guess it’s true that if it’s meant to be, it will be” you smile, showing off sae in front of the camera to which the interviewer loves.
“what an answer from, y/n! well you heard it here first folks!” the interviewer beams in front of the camera, “i wish you two never ending happiness. thank you for letting me interview you guys!” he waves off, finding another celebrity to interview. 
you and sae both smile and wave him goodbye as you two continue along the red carpet.
“do you really mean that?” you hear sae ask beside you. he was busy waving for the cameras. you let out a little giggle before waving around for the paparazzi and cameras around. 
“mean what?”
“what you said about if it’s meant to be, it will be” he quotes you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear sending the audience and the paparazzi in a frenzy again. 
“it happened to us, didn’t it?” you smile, motioning to your current situation. 
sae was yours again, and you are his. 
just how it should be. 
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bonus!
you didn't consider how awkward it actually was to be working on another modeling gig with your boyfriend.
especially when the poses instructed by the photographer and way too intimate to be imitated in a semi-public setting for your liking.
“what are you being stiff for?” sae holds in his laugh, seeing how motionless your poses are with him. “it’s awkward when theres people around..” you say through gritted teeth, praying to the gods that this shoot will finally be over
“it’s not this awkward when we do this alone though..” sae seductively whispers, lowering his head just right at the shell of your ear.
the photographer squeals in joy at the amount of shots he got from that pose alone.
you feel your face burn up in embarrassment.
“sae!” 
1K notes · View notes
matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Note
Can you do something with Vox and the reader and the reader listens to like sus or like nsfw songs (Think like Wheeler Walker Jr. (he’s a country music artist if you didn’t know, be warned)) and/or like morally questionable songs? Idk I’d think it’d just be funny with like the reader listening to a song and it’s just like really explicit😭🙏
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: I'm making a drabble out of this cuz I don't wanna go through the whole song for now- but this is way too funny of an idea to pass up. PLUS, I've got like the perfect song after the audio just popped up on my YouTube feed yesterday. Like, the song has two versions too- one explicit and one clean. Also, I am aware that the idiom in the title means being more cautious- but it kind of applies to Vox when he actually has to make a valiant effort to stop falling in love with you. He absolutely sucks at it but we're not gonna stop him LMAO.
youtube
Despite having prior knowledge to the songs you liked and listened to, Vox was still a bemused mess when guessing your music preferences. Sometimes he couldn't understand why you'd have a certain song in your playlist that just... didn't really fit. He'd even worry that something happened when a depressive song was randomly at the top of your 'most played' tunes for the day. Yet you were completely fine, actually just peachy- which confused him beyond belief.
All the more when he found you at the hotel teaching Angel some popular dance routines from when you were alive. The overlord didn't seem to mind what you were doing, hell- it was a little cute to watch. Even if he had a few qualms about your song choices, a lot of them bordering suggestive, it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.
That was until the chorus of this specific tune started playing.
You wrap around me and you give me life~ And that's why night after night- I'll be fuckin' you right!
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!
It didn't help that you seemed completely unbothered by it?! Huh?!
Vox hadn't ever heard that song in your playlist before, if he had the lyrics and melody would be familiar- but no! So you had just decided to add this all of a sudden?! WHY??
He didn't realize his claws were digging into the bar top where he was leaning against until Lucifer pointed it out. Even then, he didn't react to the king of hell's teasing or jabs- merely crossing his arms as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday- a week! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday- Seven days a week!
Were you trying to tell him something?? Wha- how did you even find a song like this?! Much less know enough about the dance of it to teach! He was starting to overheat as his fans whirred loudly. Though at this point, it was mostly embarrassed confusion with a dash of lust.
Husker and Lucifer were sort of having a laugh at Vox's expense where they were standing near him. It had been clear as day ever since that the technology overlord had a thing for you-
This just pretty much confirmed it.
Maybe he totally wished to direct the song at you, if his pink screen was any indication. The guy even had small bolts of blue electricity just running across him, you were seriously sending Vox into overdrive and you had no idea!
Every hour, every minute, every second, you know night after night~ I'll be fuckin' you right, seven days a week!
By the time you had finished dancing with Angel, you picked up on some boisterous laughter by the hotel's bar. Only to see Lucifer and Husker actually losing it because a certain flatscreen companion of yours was bluescreened and sparking where he stood.
What the hell?
You were so confused.
But that just seemed to make a certain king and bartender laugh all the more.
283 notes · View notes
greensagephase · 3 months
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Nonviolent Communication - Part 12
Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: An unexpected temporary change. Word Count: 24,291 Warnings: A building catches fire; someone falls; mention of injury Previous Part Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here ! It includes all the music I've listened to throughout the chapters for writing, including music for the one-shots, and some songs I decided not to include originally in the chapter posts. This was due to the romantic context they have and we're not at that point yet, but I was using them more for vibes if that makes sense? The lyrics are not relevant, not yet anyway.🤭) "Spider-Man" - John Paesano "Moving Forward" - John Paesano "Blue Moon" - Billie Holiday "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, 21 Savage, A$AP Rocky "Another Dimension" - Pop Money
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Part 12
You sleep peacefully under warm covers in your once shared bedroom. Your arms are wrapped around a pillow, the one that used to belong to Peter. You once slept in a different position but ever since his death, your sleeping position changed. You began to hug his pillow at night, pretending that it was him because his scent was on it. Those days led to years and now, hugging a pillow is the only way you can sleep, even if the pillow has long ago lost the scent of its owner. Your head rests on the pillow, like how it used to rest on Peter’s chest at night when you laid in bed and talked about anything and everything in the comfort of your small apartment.
It’s how you lay now on the same bed you’ve had for years. You’re resting, peacefully and calmly. Sleep has a strong hold on you as you dream - of Peter. You sit in your living room and watch as he browses through your bookshelf, the old one. Your eyes scan it, noticing it’s in great condition. If anything it looks like it did when Peter was alive, almost brand new. He mutters quietly to himself as he searches, his fingers tracing the books’ spines, searching for a specific title.
“Found it,” Peter says before he turns around to face you, showing you the book by holding it up.
You smile at him from the couch as you catch his playful grin before he approaches you, and takes a seat next to you.
“We haven’t read this one in a while. I think it’s time. It’s winter after all,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his warmth.
“It is winter,” you confirm as you lean into his touch, into his body. You sigh softly, taking in his scent. You close your eyes for a few seconds, relishing it. It’s been so long but you know it so well - as if it were your own scent. It brings you so much comfort and peace, it reminds you that there’s another scent that incites those same feelings now. Miguel’s.
You open your eyes as Peter begins to read. His voice is gentle and warm, and his arm is still wrapped around you. You look at him and smile before looking around the apartment. You hear Peter but your mind still registers the mixture of the old and new decorations in the apartment. There’s the old bookshelf you had but the photographs on the wall are different. It’s small things like that. You turn away and snuggle closer to Peter, having to stop yourself from almost murmuring his name tenderly in response to the feel of his body, his warmth, his scent. Peter is really here with you. You’re together. Again.
You feel Peter’s arm gently tighten around your shoulders, caressing your arm in an affectionate way as he reads. You feel at peace sitting with him in your apartment.
“Wake up,” Peter says gently.
You sit still, listening to him read and letting the sound of his voice surround you, believing that his previous statement is part of the story.
“Wake up, love,” Peter says, forcing you to face him. His tone is still gentle but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “Please wake up.”
“What-Peter?” you ask softly, confused.
“Please wake up, love. You need to wake up.”
You look around, noting the urgency in Peter’s tone. “Peter, what’s happening?”
“I love you,” he whispers, leaning closer and pressing his forehead to yours. “Everything will be okay, darling.”
“Peter!”
You sit up in bed, gasping Peter’s name. You look around your bedroom, breathing rapidly. You swear you can still feel his warmth but it’s fading quickly.
“Peter,” you whisper in the darkness as you realize it was just a dream. You sigh heavily, trying to come to your senses. It has been a while since you dreamed about Peter and you can’t help but feel shaken up by the abruptness at the end. It was so sweet, like how it used to be when Peter was alive. Even in the darkness, you long to be back in your dream, if only to feel like that again - to feel and smell Peter, to hear his voice.
You rub your eyes gently, yawning and contemplating your dream for a few seconds when your spidey senses go off. You look around quickly, going still to listen intently for sirens - for chaos. You hear nothing. You get out of bed regardless, walking to your radio, the one that alerts you of emergencies. You wait for it, but before any feedback comes from the device, the smell reaches you first.
Smoke.
You sniff again because you believe that you’re mistaken and that the scent must be something else. Yet, smoke is all you can smell.
“Fire?” you whisper to yourself before you rush into your suit.
You change quickly and put your gizmo on before you check your apartment, finding nothing, so you slip out through a window to check what’s going. Your eyes widen when you see it, disbelief and shock hitting you at once when you discover that one of the floors is in flames. Your heart sinks at the sight.
“Wake up.”
You frown as you remember your dream, Peter’s words specifically. It couldn’t be, could it? Did he warn you somehow, or is it just your imagination? You fix your mask, pushing your thoughts away for now, before you launch into action. You quickly move to the main floor on fire, breaking a window and slipping inside. The change of temperature is instant. Outside, it’s cold, being the beginning of winter, but as soon as you’re inside, you feel the heat from the flames. The smell of smoke is stronger now, filling your nose. You call out for someone, eyes searching for civilians as you move through the flames. You hear someone scream, causing you to turn in that direction. You carefully make your way there, knowing you need to hurry before the building is engulfed in flames with the tenants inside.
You find your way and discover a young woman that looks familiar. Your brain tries to identify her but in the heat of the moment, you can’t.
“My friend! She’s inside the bedroom! I think she passed out from the smoke, please get her out!” the woman says, covering her nose from the smoke, with tears rolling down her face.
“I’ll get you out first!” you reply grabbing her arm and pulling her towards you. “Once I get you out, call the police! I don’t think anyone has called yet!” you order her, as you try to hear for sirens but fail to.
You shoot your web, securing her and lowering her down the building until she reaches the ground before you begin to search for the other person. It doesn’t take you long to find the person. A young woman lays on the bedroom’s floor, passed out. You quickly check for a pulse and after finding one, you carry her out of the building, carefully delivering her to her friend on the ground. The first woman notifies you that she has called the police and that they and firefighters should be on their way. You also notice a small crowd of random people have gathered, so you instruct them to stay back and to not enter the premises.
You glance at the building for a few seconds, praying that it doesn’t go up in flames completely. As you swing back to the building’s wall, you thankfully hear sirens in the distance. You slip inside through a window belonging to another apartment, not caring to startle the tenants as your main priority is to get everyone out now. You quickly evacuate the floor mainly affected before you move to the floor above and below. At this point several tenants have heard the commotion, making your job easier in quickly evacuating them. However, you realize not everyone comes out, so you enter apartments, calling out for tenants you’ve seen in passing over the years, and finding some of them scared and shocked by the circumstances, so much that they don’t realize they need to get out. You find other individuals still sleeping and unaware of the situation, and must wake them up. The process is hard for you as you have to ease people’s fright from not only waking up to a masked person, Spider-Woman, in their homes, but also from the news of the fire as the flames grow and spread.
As you safely deliver some people out of the building, you notice the firefighters and police have arrived. The police has secured the premises, keeping the gathered civilians from entering the building while firefighters move quickly to stop the fire. As you lead a civilian to safety, you can hear someone talking over a megaphone, trying to wake up tenants from the floors above, still unaffected.
“Spider-Woman!”
You turn, pausing just as you were about to lunge off the ground. You find a firefighter, realizing it’s the captain. You don’t recognize him, which leads you to believe he’s new.
“I have people working on putting out the fire, and others on evacuating. These people have told me you’ve been evacuating tenants. What about the floor beneath?” the man asks. “I need to know so we’ll know what floors need evacuation.”
You quickly tell him what you’ve covered, easing the man’s worries for the main floors affected now.
“I’ll evacuate the floors below,” you add as you realize the building could collapse and trap those tenants.
“Alright, some of my people are already on it. We’re also trying to wake up the people on the higher floors to start evacuating!” the man says a little louder just as another firetruck pulls up with their sirens on.
“Got it!” you state.
“Be careful!” the captain calls out before he, too, jumps into the scene.
With a nod, you turn towards the building, finding several people now looking out from their windows before disappearing into their apartments from the higher floors, including people from your own. That’s not the only thing you notice however, you also take notice of the flames and how they’re spreading.
“Everything will be okay, darling,” Peter said.
Peter’s words flash in your mind as adrenaline rushes through your body. You lunge back into action and evacuate more tenants from the lower floors. Thankfully this doesn’t take as long now that you have the help of the firefighters, which allows you to focus on the floors above. It’s there that you run into another full family - parents and children. So far you’ve only encounter roommates and spouses but very few families with children. Seeing them, you quickly decide to make a safety net out of your web. You quickly make it, extending it from one lamp post to another one, making sure it’s big enough for adults and that’s it’s secure. After reassuring the tenants that it’s safe, you help the family reach safety out of the building with the assistance of the firefighters. Your safety net turns out to be very helpful as you don’t have to carry out so many people.
You feel confident as you evacuate more people but the smoke becomes unbearable. It’s all you can smell and it makes your eyes tear up, almost making you lose your balance at one point.
“Y/N! Do you need backup?” you hear a voice.
Lyla.
You shake your head, blinking several times before you finally spot Lyla above your gizmo. “No. No need for backup. I got the situation cover.” You start moving again, your steps determine as you lead some tenants towards the end of the hallway. “Don’t tell anyone. Not Miguel. Jess. Peter B.. No one,” you tell her as you carefully lead the tenants out.
All you see is Lyla disappear before you focus on the task at hand. You get the tenants out before running back to search again. You offer help as you enter an apartment. You walk past the kitchen, already in flames. Even with the sound of sirens outside, you hear something spark, catching your attention. Your spidey senses warn you just before it blows up. You instantly cover your face and stumble backwards as flames jump at you.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Your sweatshirt lays where it always rests - near Miguel. Your comforting scent fills Miguel’s lungs as he sleeps peacefully, no nightmares disturbing his sleep. Yet, he startles awake. His eyes search his dark bedroom immediately before he sits up slowly. He detects nothing, not even a sound from the city outside, but that doesn’t ease the strange sensation in his chest.
“Lyla,” Miguel calls out because he’s certain that something is amiss.
“Miguel,” Lyla says a second later, appearing in midair with a tone that Miguel recognizes all too well.
“What’s happening?” he asks, already out of bed with his suit halfway on.
“She said she didn’t want backup,” Lyla replies, causing Miguel to pause for only a second before he continues to slide on his gizmo.
“Who?” Miguel asks, but his heart already knows the answer. He can feel that this is why he woke up. It has to be.
“Y/N.” Lyla follows Miguel as he rushes out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He jumps from the top of the stairs to the first floor, clicking his gizmo hurriedly. “Her building caught on fire. It doesn’t seem too bad. Only a few floors so far. She has been helping the tenants out of the building while the firefighters are working to stop the fire from spreading. I asked if she wanted backup but she asked me not to,” Lyla explains. “I was going to tell you.”
“Mierda. You should’ve,” Miguel says looking at the portal that he’s opened.
“Miguel, I don’t think she wants help. She’s doing perfectly well on her own, so, just - let her do her thing and then we can check up on her,” Lyla says as she follows Miguel, who in his hurry, rips the portal open with his suit to reach your universe sooner.
“She’s not hurt, is she?” Miguel asks, stepping out onto a nearby rooftop. The sound of sirens immediately fills his ears and of course, there’s the bright light from the fire itself. Miguel’s red eyes scan it, noticing that four floors are in flames and it’s spreading to the fifth. There’s a large crowd of people on the street in their pajamas - a sight that makes Miguel feel empathy. A fire is disastrous enough but even more so when it takes place on such vulnerable moments like one’s sleep.
“She’s not hurt but she seems tired though. She’s been carrying people out and searching the building for tenants non-stop.”
“Ask her if she wants backup again but don’t tell her I’m here,” Miguel says softly yet sternly, respecting your choice of declining backup, even though everything in him is screaming to go and find you.
Lyla disappears with a nod. She appears again thirty seconds later with a frown that makes Miguel frown, too.
“She said no,” Miguel says and Lyla nods. Miguel sighs heavily. “Keep up with her. Alert me if she needs help, please.”
Miguel watches from the rooftop, even after Lyla disappears, as the firefighters run around trying to put down the fire. They scream at each other, giving directions and warnings as they move about. Scanning the scene, Miguel spots a web trap you set up on one side of the building. He finds another one near the fire stairs to help tenants land on it from the higher floors. The large group of people in their pajamas reassures Miguel that you should be done soon - that you’ll be out of danger shortly.
He’s so concerned about your well-being it only now truly hits Miguel that this isn’t a random apartment building but yours. Your apartment. The realization instantly makes him feel sorrow - your beautiful place, the one you redecorated only months ago might be lost, but more importantly, Miguel realizes all your precious belongings might be damaged if not completely burnt to ashes. He specifically thinks about your record player and vinyls, knowing how much they mean to you because of Peter. He wonders, if there’s a slight chance that you took them out already, but Miguel feels certain that you haven’t, and that you’ve focused on safely evacuating the tenants before securing your own belongings.
“Lyla.”
“She still doesn’t want backup. She’s moving through the fifth floor,” Lyla says just as Miguel sees figures from one of the floors - the fifth one - reach the fire stairs. He spots you as you reinforce the web trap before you talk to the tenants, possibly assuring them that it’s safe. The individuals jump off one by one, safely landing on your web trap before they’re assisted by nearby firefighters.
Miguel’s heart beats heavily as you disappear into the building again, immediately hidden by the smoke and flames. “Her belongings. Did she take anything out yet?” Miguel says, forcing himself to speak, trying to push down his worry.
“She hasn’t. She trusts the firefighters will stop the fire before it reaches her floor.”
“What about the tenants on the higher floors? Have then been evacuated?” Miguel asks.
“Yes. They’ve been evacuated but Y/N is making sure everyone is out of the building.”
“How is she doing? How many more people are in there?” Miguel asks as he stands on the edge of the rooftop. He hasn’t even noticed it but he has been extracting and retracting his talons the entire time, anxiously.
“I’ll check.”
Miguel nods, standing alone as he watches the firefighters put out the fire on one side of the building, trying to contain it.
You push doors and enter apartments, quickly but efficiently checking for any civilians that may be in danger. You try to keep your head low to avoid inhaling smoke, which not only makes your eyes water but also makes you want to cough as you breath some of it in. You call out, offering help. There are no voices, yet you still check to make sure no one stays behind. You walk down the hallway, almost losing your balance from a large gap on the floor destroyed from the flames beneath. You tell yourself to be more careful and to avoid the smoke, as it’s blocking your vision. After regaining your balance, you look down and see the flames consuming the floor below. You make a jump for it, securing yourself with web just in case the floor gives out once you land. Fortunately, it doesn’t.
You step into another apartment, offering help. Your eyes scan the space hurriedly as you yell out for anyone. You’re so concerned about not leaving anyone behind that you fail to notice a loose wooden board hanging behind you as your eyes search the apartment. You look around, coughing a little due to the smoke before the board falls on you - hitting you on your shoulder. You wince, taking your shoulder and putting pressure on it to ease the ache that was left from it. You search room after room before you return to the hallway, making your way into another apartment. You enter it quickly, checking a bedroom and finding no one, before you go into the living room where you surprisingly fall through the floor and onto the one below.
You grunt softly as you feel the impact of the fall. Still on the ground, you look around and realize you’re lucky that you didn’t fall straight into flames but instead into a small pocket of space that has been spared from the flames - for now.
“She just fell through the floor but seems unscathed,” Lyla reports to Miguel.
He nods, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she’s up now and searching the floor one last time.”
Miguel nods, eyes narrowing. His talons keep retracting and extracting unconsciously. It’s been a few minutes since he saw you come out through the fire stairs with a family. He silently hopes you get out of the building soon. His nerves have not settled down at all, even as he has been watching the firefighters work relentlessly to stop the spread of the fire.
“Anyone here?!” you call out as you cough out, knowing that the fifth floor has been cleared up.
“Here!”
You turn as you hear a masculine voice.
“Over- here!” the man says, his tone indicating pain.
You make your way to them as quickly as possible, crawling whenever you can to avoid the smoke. You come across a yellow suited person. A firefighter. You reach them quickly, realizing that they have debris over their legs.
“Spider-Woman,” the firefighter says as he realizes it’s you.
“I’m going to lift this off you, okay? Is that alright?” you ask them as you prepare to lift the debris off them.
“Yes - I think I have a broken leg,” the firefighter tells you.
You nod, feeling bad for the man before you gently lift the debris off them to avoid any more injuries.
“Okay, okay. I’m going to drag you to the nearest window - we need to get you out of this smoke,” you tell him.
“We both need to get out of this smoke,” he says, grimacing. “We can request a ladder from the window.”
“Alright, tell me if I’m hurting you,” you reply as you move around and position yourself. You lift him up from his underarms, your hands meeting in front of his chest to drag him, hoping you don’t meet with flames as you move. Your eyes water but you push through it as you spot a window. You move faster, avoiding injuring the firefighter.
“Ladder!” you yell out and thankfully, there’s a ladder on the floor below that quickly moves up to meet you. “Firefighter injured! Possibly a broken leg!” you inform the firefighter on the ladder.
“That’s Samuel! I was looking for him! Here!” the other firefighter responds as they set up to help you.
As a team, the non-injured firefighter and you lower Samuel down the ladder. Your sticky powers come in aid as you hold Samuel’s weight so the other firefighter doesn’t carry his weight alone. At last, the three of you reach the ground where other firefighters help with Samuel, taking him away to receive treatment.
“Is that everyone, Spider-Woman? We didn’t find any other tenants,” a woman says.
“I checked the fifth floor, there was no one else. Everyone else from the upper floors should have evacuated earlier but I’ll do one quick sweep,” you reply as your eyes scan the fire. It seems to be dying now thanks to the firefighters’ efforts but you still can’t find peace. Not until the flames are fully gone. You nod to the firefighters before you swing back to the building, hoping once again that your building, the one that you’ve lived at for years, won’t completely burn down.
You check every floor, thankful that the flames have not reached this point of the building. You can smell the smoke on yourself as you check every apartment to make sure that no one has stayed behind. As you search, you can’t help but feel sorrow. It seems that the firefighters are isolating the fire but even then, you’ve assisted in enough fires and know that the building will be inaccesible for a few weeks, if not months, depending on how fast an investigation is done to find the reasoning for the fire. It also depends on how soon the landlord starts with the cleaning and rebuilding.
You sigh deeply as you push through a door and search. You suddenly remember a conversation from weeks ago, making you pause in someone’s living room. Your memory connects the first woman you saved and her friend to New Year’s Eve. You sigh again but this time upset. You recall seeing the two women that evening when you were leaving the building at the same time to visit your loved ones at the cemetery. You move around the apartment, remembering that one of the women asked the other one if they had unplugged their Christmas lights. They didn’t. That reminds you of the fact that your landlord passed out a notice asking all tenants to avoid leaving the holiday lights plugged all day to avoid a short circuit last month. You silently wonder now if this fire was due to an overloaded socket, if this is an electric fire.
Finding no one in the apartment, you move to the next floor. You check the floor quickly and move to the next until you reach your floor. You check every apartment and then yours, even though you know there should be no one there. You move on to the next floors and thankfully, there are no tenants left inside. You notify the firefighters who tell you the fire has ceased at last. You linger around for a few minutes, hearing the worries and complaints of tenants - all worried about their housing situation. After hearing the firefighters inform tenants that no one can enter the premise until it can be ruled out that this isn’t a crime scene, you retreat silently and enter the building again undetected.
You find yourself in your apartment, standing in the middle of your living room, silently thinking about how you won’t be able to be here for some time. You allow yourself a few minutes before you begin to collect some items. The first items you collect are Peter’s record player and all the vinyls. You take them to your bed, deciding to make your bed the collecting place. You return to the living room, focusing on the photos on your wall. Once they’re collected, you move to the bookcase where you get Peter’s belongings, like his books and other small decorations. You also remember to retrieve photo albums storing photos from all the way to your childhood to the last years with Peter. Lastly, you pick up technological devices like your laptop and the tablet Miguel gifted you for Christmas from his universe from the living room.
At last, you focus on your bedroom, heading to the closet immediately. You quickly locate a plastic file organizer that contains important legal documents belonging to Peter and you. The two of you were prepared just in case something like this ever happened since neither of you wanted to lose important documents in a rush due to a fire or some other emergency.
You open the file organizer slowly, spotting a passport. You pick it up and open it. Peter’s photo greets your eyes and despite yourself, you stare at it for a few seconds. You briefly remember going together to renew it for a trip the two of you took years ago and how excited he was about it. The passport is still valid, leading you to silently wonder about the many trips the two of you would’ve gone on if everything was different. Smiling, you shake your head and place the passport back, zipping the file organizer back to avoid losing anything.
You look around your bedroom, not sure where you’ll be staying at yet. You grab your favorite tote bag, the one that Miguel gifted you this past Christmas, and place the file organizer in it. You search your bedroom and start putting other items into the bag. Your mind is concerned about the stability of the building. What if it collapses? This thought keeps running through your mind as you retrieve Peter’s box, the one that contains all of his clothes and other belongings you packed away. There’s no way you’re leaving his belongings behind and possibly losing them.
You bring the box to the bed, placing it next to the tote bag before you retrieve other items. Once you have a pile of items, you fetch a carry-on to pack everything in.
You search your apartment one more time, making sure you’re not leaving anything of sentimental value - anything that belonged to Peter or your parents. Finding nothing else, you begin to pack your belongings in the carry-on. As you pack, you finally start to think about where you’ll be staying. This situation is most likely going to last for a few weeks, if not months. You’re certain the fire started because of an electrical issue. The building is, after all, on the older side, and there was that notice from your landlord back in December. It seems to add up. However, even if the fire is deemed an electrical fire and there’s no need for a longer investigation, the cleaning and rebuilding of the building might take months unless your landlord miraculously pulls it together somehow. You can only hope but for now you have to figure out where you’ll be staying.
“Hotel,” you say to yourself as you remember the plan Peter and you came up with. The plan used to be your parents and Aunt May’s place but with them gone, it changed to a hotel. You sigh softly as you carefully pack your belongings, trying to avoid any damage to the sensitive items like the records. Your spidey senses suddenly go off again, causing you to turn.
“Please tell me you’re not actually considering staying at a hotel,” Miguel says softly as he comes in from the living room, hoping not to startle you. “You’re more than welcome to stay at my place.”
“Miguel,” you say gently as he approaches you, stopping near you but keeping enough distance to give you space.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone filled with concern. His eyes search your body, even in the barely lit room, trying to find any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay. At least, I think so,” you answer. “Nothing hurts.”
“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I wanted - to help you, but Lyla said you didn’t want backup.”
“Lyla…” you say, narrowing your eyes as you remember declining backup and asking her not to tell Miguel or anyone else. “She told you.”
“No. She didn’t. I actually…” Miguel looks away for a few seconds. “I think I sensed it somehow. I woke up on my own and had this… feeling. When I asked her what was happening, that’s when she told me. I traveled here immediately but watched from afar, just in case you wanted backup,” Miguel says quietly, not quite sure what to make of this fact in the moment. All he cares about is that you’re unhurt, or at least it seems that way. He’ll be making sure of it once you both reach Nueva York, or somewhere far safer with better lighting.
You smile softly at the fact that Miguel somehow sensed your situation despite the fact that he doesn’t have a spidey sense. You stare at each other in the darkness of the room, thinking about that special connection between the two of you. Neither of you understand it, nor have addressed it since the day you told Miguel how you knew he was in trouble back in the spring when he came face to face with a variant of the Green Goblin and he was stranded on Earth-42, and he was injured. Despite not talking about it, the two of you have thought about it. Sometimes you wonder how is it possible but regardless, you feel comforted by it. As to Miguel, he used to find it both comforting and fearful, though these days when he thinks about it, he finds himself no longer feeling afraid of that bond and what it means. He’s embraced this connection - this bond - as the months have passed.
“I see. Well, thank you for coming and for respecting my decision about backup,” you tell him softly.
Miguel nods, looking at you. “Always,” he replies, knowing deep inside of him that he’ll always show up for you and respect your decisions. “You were - amazing,” he adds quietly.
You smile warmly, feeling a bit of heat in your cheeks thanks to Miguel’s compliment, but also because it reminds you of the times Peter used to tell you the same thing when he saw footage of you on the news. You blink softly, pushing the memories away for now.
“I was - okay, but thank you. I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,” you reply, turning away and continuing to pack.
Miguel frowns. Did he say something wrong?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, softly.
You pause and turn to face him. “What - no. You didn’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper even though there’s no need to. There’s no else in the apartment, or even in the building. “Your words didn’t upset me. Seriously, thank you. It means a lot coming from another Spider person - coming from you,” you say with a warm smile, pausing to make sure that Miguel understands his words didn’t upset you. “Believe me. It’s just - I have Peter on my mind. I mean, he’s always there, you know? But tonight, with this fire - and collecting his items - he’s even more present in my mind right now, and your words… He used to tell me things like that when he saw me in action. I’m just feeling a little… sentimental.”
Miguel nods, understanding, yet also feeling relieved that he didn’t upset you with his words. “I see. I’m sorry that Peter…” he starts but is unable to finish as his mind runs with thoughts. If Peter was alive, Miguel is sure the two of you would’ve been packing together right now. Knowing how organized you are, Miguel imagines that the two of you had some plan in action for these kinds of emergencies. Instead, you’re here on your own packing Peter’s belongings because he’s no longer here. “I wish things were different,” he says at last, wanting to say more but not sure he should due to the sensitive circumstances.
You nod softly. “Thank you. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” you reply, the last statement feeling sweet in your mouth as you recall Peter telling you that in your dream.
Miguel nods and watches as you pack, feeling admiration that even in this moment you seem so put together. “Always,” he answers quietly before he looks at your belongings. “Is this everything you’re taking? I can help take some of these items out to another rooftop, somewhere far from the building to avoid civilians’ eyes. We can open a portal from there.”
You look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“You’re not actually going to a hotel, are you? There’s Gabriel’s room, empty. You can stay there for as long as necessary. Until the building is deemed safe for living.”
“Miguel, that might mean that-” you start but Miguel shakes his head, and lifts his hand up, asking you to stop because he knows where you’re going with this.
“It might mean that you stay there for weeks, or even months. I know the process can be tedious and long in these situations. That’s why you can’t stay at a hotel. Not when you have options. Please, you’ll be far more comfortable there.”
You pause your packing and stare at the items on your bed, contemplating. Accepting Miguel’s offer would mean staying with him for at least a few weeks. That would entail taking some of his privacy away. You briefly think about the fact that neither of you have lived with someone in a while, especially you. There’s also the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping here, in your universe, for so long - a thought that makes you a little sad.
“It’s not a problem for me,” Miguel starts, noticing your silence but sensing your internal debate. “You will not be invading my privacy. You’ll have your own space and I won’t bother you. Just - think about it. At least for tonight, stay there.”
You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you just say you won’t bother me? That’s not even something I’m worried about.” You shake your head softly, and despite everything, laugh a little, a sound that makes Miguel grin in the dim lit bedroom. “I’m concerned about the fact that I’d be sleeping in another universe for more than a few days. About invading your space. I don’t want to intrude and be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden. You could never be…” Miguel says gently, silently wondering why you’d think that. “We are… You know what we are.”
You nod slowly. “Yes… I know,” you whisper. You sigh after a few seconds and nod again. “Okay, just for a little bit - a few days.”
“Or, a few weeks. Months, if necessary. Unless you’re not comfortable at my home,” Miguel says quietly with a bit of a frown.
“It’s not that. I just - you’re used to your space, and I’m used to mine,” you answer quietly. “Neither of us has - you know - it’s been a while since either of us has shared our space with another person.”
Miguel nods, understanding what you mean, yet, he thinks back to the last spring when he was injured.“I know, but I think it’ll be okay. We’ve - kind of done it before.”
You stare at Miguel in surprise, realizing that he’s right. You’ve stayed at his home before and those days felt - normal, almost right. You both fell into a routine very quickly. Yet, you can’t help but think that after a few days of staying there, your presence might disturb Miguel’s routine.
“Don’t overthink it. If you’re not comfortable for whatever reason, then we can figure something out but please,” Miguel says.
You finally nod, because the man before you has been offering way too many times now for you to keep refusing, and besides, you’d feel better there than at a hotel room on your own.
“Okay, but if you need me to leave, please let me know, okay?” you ask.
Miguel nods, though he’s biting back from telling you that he would never do such a thing to someone who has found themselves in this situation, even less to you. However, Miguel refrains from voicing this thought because he doesn’t want to add stress to your already stressful morning.
“Alright... Is this everything you’re packing? For now, at least? We can come back later and retrieve more items.” Miguel looks around for a few seconds. “Honestly - we could take all your furniture and store it on one of the lower floors, just in case. That way nothing happens to your belongings.”
You shake your head gently at him, yet feel appreciation for the offer. “That’s not necessary. I don’t mind if something happens to this furniture. I hope not because that would mean the other tenants would lose their belongings, but I’m not as attached as I was to the old furniture, so I don’t mind. I have everything I want to save right, just in case. So, it’s alright, really,” you reply softly with a small smile.
“If you’re sure - if not, my offer stands. I’m sure if we get the whole group, we could get everything out in no time. I mean it,” Miguel says. “It would be no problem. Just think about it, okay?” he says gently, wanting to be as helpful as possible without pushing too much, though all he wishes to do is help you and be there for you for who he is - your friend. “Alright, I’ll help you with this bag and box. You can hold on to the record player, “ Miguel offers, knowing how much Peter’s record player means to you.
You nod and finish packing. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. After dropping everything off I’m coming back to see if anyone needs help. I hope you don’t mind me returning a bit later.”
“Of course not. I know there may be emergencies during the night, so you’ll need to go in and out. I understand. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel replies and you nod, grateful. “Have you packed clothes, at least a few changes?”
You stop, realizing. You hadn’t even thought of that since you were more concerned with keeping Peter’s belongings and other sentimental items safe first. “I haven’t, let me do that really quickly.”
You find another travel bag, the one that you used back when you stayed at Miguel’s place when you were looking after him, and begin packing. In a matter of minutes you put it together, packing clothes for at least a week before you pack your personal hygiene products. At last, you have everything you think you’ll need. Miguel picks up Peter’s box and two travel bags as the two of you get ready to leave.
You thank him again as you pick up the other items and head to the window both of you entered the apartment through. Before slipping out, the two of you pause at the window, taking in one last glance - silently thinking that you’d like to see it one last time, just in case. The two of you exit the apartment before you close the window with a heavy pang in your chest. You hope that you’ll only be away for a few weeks, and not months from your little apartment but only time will tell. You follow Miguel, holding on to your belongings. You check very quickly to see what’s going on outside your building, wondering how many of your neighbors are still there. You notice that the crowd has become smaller, and some people are taking cabs.
About a minute later, you both land on a rooftop. Miguel opens a portal and gestures for you to go first. You do so, but not without another glance. You’ll be back in a few minutes to check on the situation but for now, you head to Nueva York - the only other dimension in the entire multiverse that feels somewhat like home.
You step out into Miguel’s living room, carrying your record player like it’s gold. You move out of the way for Miguel to step out before he gestures for you to follow him, leading the way.
“Come on,” Miguel says softly. “Let’s get you settled in.”
You follow him up the stairs and into the hallway, carrying your items. Miguel pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room, and you’re back once again to this bedroom. You can’t help but feel nostalgia as you enter the room. It’s been many, many months since you stayed the night ever since Miguel was injured. You quickly get reacquainted with the bedroom, finding comfort in it. There’s the bookshelf with some books about science and repairing and as always, everything is clean and organized.
“I washed the bedding earlier this week but we can wash it again tomorrow if you want,” Miguel says as he places the box carefully on the floor, not sure what’s exactly in it. “Or, if you prefer, we can bring your bedding and take this one off so you’re more comfortable with your own later. I don’t mind it at all. Whatever feels more comfortable to you,” Miguel says taking the bag you’re holding from you and placing it on a desk. “Just - I want you to feel comfortable and - at home,” Miguel says softly, quietly. “So, feel free to use the room however you need. If you want to decorate it while you’re here… You can.” Miguel stares at the bed for a few seconds, silently wondering if he’s being too much by telling you to decorate the bedroom if you wish to. He’s not even sure if you want to stay for more than a few days after how long it took him to convince you because for some reason you think you’re going to be a burden.
You smile warmly at Miguel as he turns his gaze from the bed to you. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, truly. I was - I want to apologize for earlier,” you start. You meet his gaze, hoping he can see the sincerity in your words. “I’m not uncomfortable being here. At all. I just don’t want to disturb your peace. Your space. I hope I didn’t come off as rude when I kept declining your offer. I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It means so much to me. Thank you, Miguel.”
After a nod, Miguel offers you a small smile. “Always,” he answers, still meeting your gaze and holding it. Your words linger in his head, the sincerity in them reaching his heart. He knows you were not trying to be rude, but that you really believe, for some unknown and odd reason to him, that you’ll be disturbing him somehow. He’s especially caught up in the words you said just now - how you don’t want to disturb his peace and space - and thinks to himself about how this penthouse only truly feels peaceful and homey when you’re here.
That’s not to say that there isn’t peace in this space. There is, only it’s a different kind, an unpleasant one. It’s from the lack of other people in the living space. It’s a kind of peace that Miguel can only describe as lonely. It’s one he’s known for many years.
He thought he was used to this peace prior to his short life in Gabriella’s universe, but Miguel has learned, twice now, that he might never truly feel used to it. He’s still not used to it, even though he finds himself in it often on evenings when he’s back here from HQ. It’s not until recently that he has found a way to make that lonely peace fade a little, and that’s through the record player you gifted him for Christmas. It’s through the music from your universe and the scratching of the vinyl that Miguel manages to push away that unpleasant peace that gnaws at him.
On those evenings, the penthouse feels more welcoming to him, and not so cold and foreign. He never thought something so simple would help, but then again, Miguel never thought a piece of fabric with your scent on it and the sound of your breathing would help him get proper sleep either. Miguel has learned to accept it, to embrace it really, so he plays the record player and listens to the music from your universe, sometimes feeling like he’s not even home but at your apartment - at your universe - as he works. It’s how he tranquilizes that lonely peace in those hours, how he suppresses that gnawing feeling.
While the record player provides a temporary relief, Miguel has noted that the only time that feeling is truly gone is when you're there, at his penthouse.
You fill the penthouse with a warm and comfort that Miguel only used to feel when Gabriel lived with him and when Miguel lived in Gabriella’s universe. You bring a warm peace that he only felt with Gabriel and Gabriella, and now with you.
Miguel clears his throat, reminding himself that the two of you are still standing here in your apartment, and that you're still smiling warmly at him. He feels tempted to tell you all his thoughts from just now, but it’s still too soon, and his thoughts are so vulnerable.
“You won’t be disturbing me. I promise,” Miguel says softly, opting for that simple and straightforward answer as he looks away, trying to think of what else he can do to make you feel welcomed before he continues speaking. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry or - actually, are you sure you’re not hurt? Lyla told me you fell through one of the floors. Does anything hurt?” he asks, frowning deeply as his eyes turn back to you, searching your face and suit for any indication of cuts, bruises, or blood.
You smile fondly at him as you recognize the concern on his face. “I feel alright. I didn’t get hurt when I fell. I just feel a little sore now,” you reply as you place your mask on the desk. You can still smell the smoke on yourself, which makes you wish for a shower now, but you have yet to return to your universe and make sure your help is no longer needed.
“I’ll get you some painkillers and water,” Miguel says as he watches you place your mask on the desk for now.
“I appreciate that. Thank you.” you say softly as you rub one of your eyes. You can feel the exhaustion begin to kick in so you grab your mask again. “I need to get going. I can feel my body begin to relax.”
“Have some water first,” Miguel says. “C’mon. It will freshen you up and then you can go back.”
You follow Miguel back downstairs to the kitchen where he fills a glass with water and offers some painkillers. He watches as you take them, relieve that he can look after you in a small way at least.
You finish the water and give him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that until now.” You stretch slightly after you place the glass on the counter. “Alright, let me go back. I’ll be back in a few. Thank you for - everything,” you say softly as you hold on to your mask.
Miguel nods with a soft smile. “Always... Be careful. if you need anything - let me know, please.”
You nod gently. “Will do. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, you head back to your universe, leaving Miguel in the kitchen.
Upon arriving to your universe, you head to your building. The smoke has died down by the time you reach it. The police cars and firetrucks are still there, securing the area. Some tenants linger, figuring out what to do now in the middle of the night. You assist them as best as possible and offer additional help to the firefighters, learning through the captain that the firefighter that you helped earlier sends his gratitude and will recover successfully from his injuries.
It’s not until an hour later that you return to Miguel’s universe. You step out into the living room, finding Miguel standing near the windows. He's staring out at the city in silence, still wearing his suit, as if he’s been ready just in case you needed his assistance.
Upon hearing your arrival, Miguel turns around and faces you. His eyes search your body once again, scanning for any injuries but he finds none.
You greet him with a small smile, definitively feeling tired now. You stare back at him as he looks at you, not surprised he’s still awake despite the time it is. “Sorry it took me a while, I got caught up.”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You must be tired,” he says, his eyes searching your face.
“Yes, a little bit. It’s… wow. It’s now past six,” you say, realizing. You also realize you need to shower since you still smell like smoke. “I really need a shower.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be down here. There’s clean towels in the bathroom, but if you need anything, please let me know,” Miguel says quietly.
“Thank you! Are you - Are you not tired?” you ask, wondering if Miguel will get back to bed, at least to catch half an hour of sleep before he heads to HQ.
Miguel smiles softly and shakes his head. “No. I’m not tired, but you must be. Shower, and I’ll have something for you to eat. Then you can sleep.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Breakfast, I mean. I’ll…” you trail off, realizing your routine is going to be different for a little while. You look at Miguel and smile sheepishly, which makes him grin in amusement.
“Your routine is going to feel off for a few days but - I believe you’ll fall back into it again, which reminds me…” Miguel starts, meeting your gaze. His grin dissipates, amusement placed to the side for the time being because what he wants to tell you is serious. “I told you earlier that I want you to feel at home. I mean it. I know it’s going to be a little different. You’re not only going to be in a different environment from your own but in an entirely different universe. If you decide to stay here, of course,” Miguel says, still unsure of your thoughts on this.
You were reluctant earlier, and for all he knows, you’re only interested in staying here for a few days, even if he hopes for the opposite. “I’ve offered for you to stay here for as long as you need. It can be a few days, a few weeks, a few months…” Miguel says trailing off, almost saying you could stay here for years if you wanted to, but he stops just in time before he actually says it because you might find it strange that he’d be okay with this.
In fact, Miguel realizes right now that he’d be perfectly happy with it, which makes his cheeks feel hot. He clears his throat gently. “What I’m trying to say is that - My home is your home,” Miguel continues, his eyes still meeting yours. His gaze has been unwavering the entire time, hoping that he drives home his offer and that you understand that you're not a burden. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there for you and respect it, just know you’re welcomed here. Please don’t feel like you’ll be a burden as you said earlier. You’re not,” he says much more softly. “I don't know how long you'd like to stay here. You don’t have to decide that now in this instant, but I do want you to know that whether you stay a day or months, you can use the penthouse however you want to. If you want to read in the living room like you always do back in your universe, or if you want to randomly bake cookies at 10am or 9pm, you can. If you want to use one of the offices, you’re more than welcomed to. Same as the laundry room -” Miguel pauses, thinking that maybe he’s overdoing it. He scratches his neck softly, his eyes moving away for a few seconds before they return to you. “I just want you to know that you don’t need to be limiting yourself or, feel like you need permission, or something like that. In any way. My home is your home.”
You nod gently, feeling appreciation and gratitude towards Miguel. There’s also tenderness swirling in your mixture of feelings. Here he is telling you his home is your home.
“And also - I know,” Miguel says with a small shrug and an apologetic smile, but he has been thinking about all of these things while you've been away. And, Miguel knows you very well. “You don’t have to worry about groceries or anything like that. Unless it’s something that can only be acquired from your universe, then yes, but otherwise, don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel says, staring intently at you with his hands on his hips now.
“About bills-” you start.
“Nor about paying bills. Or rent,” Miguel says lifting his hand, and pointing at nothing in particular, a signal that he had that on his mind as well. Miguel mentally runs through his list of points. While he waited for updates from Lyla about you, he thought of these details. He thought about how your daily routine will feel off for a few days and how you’ll probably want to pay for staying here. Miguel stares at you, noticing you want to debate this. “Please. I know that if it was me, you’d do the same,” Miguel adds softly, hoping to make you see his side. His words, Miguel notices, seem to hit home because he sees the shift in your eyes.
You nod once more and sigh softly. You shake your head at him, a small smile forming on your face. The exhaustion is hitting but you still find it in yourself to smile to him. “You know me - too well,” you say quietly because his words have struck home. Miguel is absolutely right. If it was him in your situation, you’d be telling him the exact same things down from asking him not to worry about bills nor groceries, and about making himself at home at your apartment. You’d be trying to be as helpful as possible, to comfort him as much as you can. A part of you still wants to discuss some of these points, but you decide to leave it for later.
Miguel’s eyes lit up as he sees your small, tired but nonetheless sweet smile. He feels like he has finally made his point after all his talking with just a few words. Miguel returns the smile. “I’ll be making breakfast while you shower. If you need anything - at all - just tell Lyla and she’ll let me know. Don’t worry about anything else for now,” Miguel says and nods to the stairs, as if silently asking you to go on.
You nod and give Miguel a playful grin that fills his chest with warmth.
“Alright, I’m going to go shower. I’m probably stinking up your penthouse like smoke,” you say, nodding to the stairs. “Before I go though - I just want to thank you for everything, Miguel. I truly appreciate it,” you utter softly, your tone filled with sincerity and gratitude.
Miguel nods gently, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Always.”
You smile back at him and nod.
“Go on. I’ll be down here. Let me know if you need something, alright?”
“I will, thank you,” you reply softly, still smiling at him. You give him a nod, and with that you, you head upstairs.
You enter Gabriel’s bedroom, finding your belongings more organized than you left them. You also notice that Miguel has added another blanket, a fuzzy one.
You gather everything you need for your shower, including a change of clothes. Before you exit the bedroom, you pause at the door and look out the window. The sun is already making its way up in Nueva York. You grin softly before you head to the bathroom to shower at last. You shower quickly and do everything you need to after your shower, dressing into comfortable clothes. You hope not to sleep all day but you recognize your body is tired and needs to rest for a bit. Besides, you have a feeling that Miguel might get on to you if you don’t, which you find endearing.
You head back downstairs once you’re done, feeling clean and fresh. You mentally tell yourself to wash your suit once you wake up. It’s one of the many things you’ll need to do. You start thinking about setting up your room for the time being and about the little things you’ll have to do back home, like taking out the food from the fridge that will go bad if it hasn’t already, since you’re certain the fire was an electrical one considering there was no power when you were evacuating civilians out of the building. There’s also your laundry, and other small things of the sort to think about. You silently think about creating a list as you finally reach the kitchen.
Miguel turns at the sound of your footsteps. He notices the look on your face, the one you get when you’re lost in thought, and he’s sure you’re already thinking about the many things you wish to do.
“We’ll get things sorted out,” Miguel says softly as you take a seat at the counter at last. He notices the little sigh that escapes past your lips and the way you slightly lean on the counter to get some relief. He thinks about how you’ve been on your feet since you woke up; swinging, crawling, and carrying people nonstop. The closest you got to a break was when you took the painkillers and drank water.
Miguel is sure that now that you’ve showered and you’ve sat down, that all your aches and exhaustion will truly begin to surface. “Eat some breakfast. Rest. And then, we can do everything that needs to be done, alright?” he adds, as he places two glasses in front of you. One with orange juice and the other with water, opting not to offer you coffee right now so you'll rest properly.
You nod and give him a tired smile. “Alright. Thank you, truly,” you say quietly as you grab the glass with water since your mouth feel a little dry. You chug it down gently, finding relief, before you set it back down.
Miguel takes the glass and refills it for you before placing it back and checking on the stove. He stirs the food he's cooking, making it the only noise that fills the space. You don’t know what Miguel is cooking, but whatever it is, it smells fantastic and makes your mouth water. You drink more water as Miguel cooks, his back to you. You close your eyes for a bit, feeling the need to close them.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
You open your eyes and find Lyla. She floats near your face with a concerned look on her face, so you offer her a smile. “I’m alright, thank you. What about you?”
“I’m well, thanks. Glad to hear you’re okay,” Lyla replies with a little grin, though her eyes still show concern. “You did well.”
“Thank you. Also… thank you for respecting my wish and not telling Miguel,” you quietly tell Lyla though you’re sure Miguel is not even listening as he opens cabinets to get some items out.
“You got it, boss. I would’ve told him if I saw that you were in danger but,” Lyla pauses with a proud smile. “You were killing it. Miguel and I were just watching you in awe.”
“Breakfast is about to be ready,” Miguel says from the stove.
Lyla and you both turn to Miguel and share a little grin.
“Well, you did amazing but you really need to rest now. I agree with Miguel on this one,” Lyla says. “So rest up. Please.”
You nod with a little smile.
“Hm, didn’t know she had that term in her vocabulary,” Miguel comments as he places a plate with food in front of you.
“I do, I just don’t use it for you. Only with special members,” Lyla says with a shrug, which reminds Miguel of something Lyla said a while back. She mentioned you are one of her top five favorite members. Miguel silently wonders once again what your spot is, and who are the other four members. He has a feeling Spider-Plushie, Spider-Cat, Spider-Wolf, or Spider-Rex are up there with you.
He clears his mind and gives you utensils along with napkins, making sure you have everything so you can eat properly. Lyla has already disappeared.
“Thank you. My mouth is watering,” you tell Miguel as you look at the food.
“Go ahead and start eating. Your body needs it to recover,” Miguel says gently, gesturing for you to eat.
You take a bite and involuntarily close your eyes at the flavor. You would happily pass away right now with this amazing food.
Miguel watches your reaction, smirking softly at the sight and feeling pleased. He thought by now he would be used to it but each time, without failure, the sight of you smiling and enjoying the food makes him joyous. It’s so satisfying for some reason.
“Are you not eating?” you ask, looking at him now with wonder in your eyes.
The question brings him back to the moment and he nods. “Yes. Yes, I am,” he replies, offering you a little smile before he turns around to fix himself a plate. For a moment he forgot about himself, being more concerned with you eating first. He serves himself breakfast before joining you at the counter, taking the seat he always does. He silently thinks about how you both always sit on the same chairs, as if you were assigned to them. He smiles at this thought before he turns to look at you, finding you enjoying your food.
His face softens at the sight, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling he’s had ever since you first stepped foot into his home this morning, and one that has stayed with him. He feels the need to stay here with you, to work from home so he can keep an eye out for you while you rest. He doesn’t want to tell you this though. Miguel knows you well and is certain that you’d try to work, or even go to HQ to avoid “disrupting” his routine if he tells you about his plan. He takes his utensil, getting ready to eat as he thinks about it. He’ll go to HQ and stick around for an hour before he comes back for the rest of the day, but that’s a secret, for now.
He takes a bite of food, appreciating the flavor as he silently plans. He’ll be back in an hour and easily ask Jess or Peter if they can fill in for today’s planned missions. If there’s any missions regarding anomalies, he’s sure other members can handle such missions. Miguel pauses as he thinks of other members, thinking of your friends.
“The others might wonder where you are. Do you want me to tell them what happened, and that you’re here?” Miguel asks gently. “Or, do you prefer to let them know yourself?”
You put down your glass and think. You haven’t even thought about them, feeling too exhausted. “Do you mind telling them?”
“I don’t. I can tell them once I get to HQ. I can tell them that they can come see you once you’re up for it, if you’d like,” Miguel says after he cleans his mouth. “Which is another thing I forgot to mention earlier. I know they visit you often back at your universe, so they can come here if you’d like.”
You shake your head slightly. “Thank you but that’s alright. You’re been far too generous already.”
Miguel frowns softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t mind it, but if you prefer not to, that’s your choice. Just know that I’m fine with it. As I said earlier - my home is your home,” Miguel says picking up his own glass and taking a drink.
You smile at the offer but you don’t want to take advantage of Miguel’s kindness. Besides, you know you can always visit your friends, or arrange to meet up at HQ. You find it sweet though, the fact that Miguel has offered his home to you, and that he has said his home is your home. Not once but three times now.
The two of you eat in silence, enjoying both the food and each other’s company. Miguel keeps the conversation short, as he knows you must be exhausted. When the two of you are done and Miguel notices you standing up and retrieving your dishes, Miguel moves quickly. He takes the dishes from you gently, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about it. I got it. Go ahead and rest. Really,” he says as you start to protest. He sees your little frown, and Miguel wonders if this is what you feel like when you want to help him and he protests because he believes that you’ve done too much for him already. He wonders if you feel frustration when he declines politely the way you are now when all he wishes to do is look after you. He sighs softly and places your dishes on top of his before he turns to you. “I’ll be at HQ but if you need anything - at all - please let me know. And again, please make yourself at home. Also, don’t worry about anything else for right now. We’ll sort it out but you need to rest for now, okay?” he says softly, eyes meeting yours.
You nod, noticing the look on Miguel’s face. Concern is written all over it. For a few seconds you wish you weren’t making him this concerned before your mind moves on to the fact that he said “we” when referring to tasks you’ll need to get done, as in the two of you will figure things out together. It’s the second time he’s said it and his words comfort you, deeply. You blindly thought your building would never go through a situation like this one and even less that you’d go through it without Peter. Sure, you were both prepared because that was the responsible thing to do, but you never thought you’d actually have to retrieve the file organizer for such a circumstance - that you’d be packing without Peter. You’re overwhelmed suddenly with the thought that you would’ve been alone for all of this if it wasn’t for Miguel. If you weren’t in the Spider Society, this morning would’ve been very different. You swallow the knot that’s forming in your throat and nod again, feeling emotional and so exhausted. “Okay, I will. I guess - I’ll be here,” you reply quietly, feeling like all your exhaustion is hitting you at once now that you’ve showered, eaten, and have relaxed. The adrenaline has finally worn off, and now you’re all emotion and exhaustion.
“Good,” Miguel replies gently, offering you a small smile. “I’ll let the others know you’re here, so they’re not too worried about you.”
You nod, biting your lower lip subtly and looking away for a few seconds. “Alright, be careful, please.”
Miguel blinks softly at the words, caught by surprise. He nods regardless and offers you a small but reassuring smile. “I will.”
With that, you nod and turn around. You walk towards the living room to head upstairs but pause at the doorway - having the need to say more.
Miguel stands up once he sees you pause. He wonders if something’s wrong. Perhaps you didn’t notice you had injuries earlier but now you’re feeling them, or maybe you’re so tired you’re disoriented. He takes three steps forward before you turn around and meet his gaze.
“Miguel?”
“Yes?” he responds softly, worry etched on his face.
“I think - I’m really tired. My exhaustion is hitting at last and that’s probably why I really want to tell you something I usually wouldn’t.”
Miguel’s eyebrows rises slowly, wondering.
“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough even if I said it a million times but it means so much to me,” you start. “You showing up and respecting my decision for no backup, but sticking around just in case. Helping me with my belongings and of course, offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you add with a wavering voice. “It means so much to me and I wish -” you swallow gently, definitely feeling exhaustion take its toll on you, making it harder for you to hold back from expressing sentiments you’d usually hold close to your heart with Miguel. The words roll out of your mouth quickly and your voice quivers as if you were making a dire confession. “I wish I could give you a hug - a really tight one - just to emphasize with more than words - how much it means to me.” You pause for a second before finishing. “And I should go to sleep before I keep saying things. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable, and if it did, I’m really sorry.”
You nod quickly before walking away, not wanting to make Miguel feel more uncomfortable than he probably already is by lingering around. You leave Miguel behind, who watches you leave with a soft expression on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his hands form into soft fists as he stands alone now.
He continues to stare through the doorway, only seeing part of his living room now, and wonders… What would it be like? What would it be like to let you do exactly what you wish to do? What would it feel like to be hugged again? To feel warm arms wrapped around him? And what if he hugged you back?
Miguel sighs deeply as he leans on the counter before he gently hits the countertop with his fist.
What if?
Miguel’s mind is clouded with your words, with the possibility. He has been thinking about it for weeks now - two months, really. He has been thinking about it ever since Thanksgiving when the two of you, at his request, invited your friends over because there was so much food even after you both ate. He was caught up with the younger members, the spiderlings as you call them, a nickname that Miguel finds endearing and that he has found himself using mentally - even catching himself almost saying it verbally at times. The spiderlings were asking him questions about his sound system and he ended up showing them other devices from his universe. He remembers looking over from the living room to the kitchen and dining area and finding you leaning your head on Peter B.’s arm, so at ease.
For some reason, ever since that night, Miguel has been thinking about it more. About how much more open you are to physical touch. He notices it more these days. From the little gestures like high-fives to the big gestures, like on New Year’s Eve just a few weeks ago when Noir and Spider-Ham were talking to him and he realized you were suddenly gone from his side. He ended up finding you talking with Peter B.. Miguel relaxes his fists as he remembers, vividly, Peter’s arm around your shoulder and once again, how comfortable you were. The sight only added more fuel to his thoughts about physical touch.
Miguel looks at his pinky. There has been some physical touch. Some of it has been unintentional, of course. Miguel is not opposed to physical touch when it’s necessary, like on missions. He picks up civilians, carries them. When spider-people are in danger and need a hand, he lends one but on his day to day life, his personal life - Miguel has been limited. All contact in these situations involve having his suit on, so no skin to skin contact is made. Ever since losing Gabriella, the only person he has touched - with his bare hands and nothing in between - has been you with the pinky squeezes. He also remembers holding Mayday the day you were babysitting her but that’s it.
It’s just you and the pinky squeezes. The first time he did it, he didn’t even plan on it. It happened. All he knows is that his pinky was suddenly wrapped around yours, and he gave a little squeeze. Now there’s been a few other times, the last one being on New Year’s Eve. Everyone was hugging and welcoming the new year, and Miguel thought - after seeing all your friends hug you - that he’d try and give you a “hug” in his own way. It was also his way to comfort you a little bit after you cried, which made his heart ache even if you were crying “happy” tears as you said to him that night.
Besides the pinky squeezes, that’s all there has been, except for the first time he touched you. Miguel sighs as he realizes it will soon be two years since that day, making him wonder where the time has gone. He remembers it vividly, however, how he pressed his hand to your forehead almost two years ago to see if you had a running fever. He didn’t even think about it in the moment. Before he knew it, his bare hand was pressed to your skin and it was the first time since Gabriella that Miguel had touched anyone skin to skin.
Your words have Miguel standing here now, in his kitchen, contemplating. That’s not all though. He feels his heart speed up at the fact that you said you wished you could hug him, that you were telling him something you normally wouldn’t tell him and it was this. It means you’ve wished to hug him before. Miguel silently wonders how many times have you wished for this? He’s seen the way your hands sometimes reach for him but stop halfway, remembering his boundaries but how many times have you wanted more than pat his hand or arm? How many times have you wished to embrace him?
Miguel wonders again - what would it feel like to have the privilege of being hugged by you? What if he hugged you back, and embraced your warmth?
“Dios,” Miguel whispers as he stares down at his hands. He can feel a tingling, almost as if his own hands are asking - begging - him to go and feel.
He pushes himself off the counter and walks off, heading upstairs. His steps are quick but quiet to avoid disturbing you, and in truth, Miguel doesn’t know what he’s doing, not even when he reaches Gabriel’s bedroom door and he finds it ajar. He stands still and listens, his ears filled instantly with your soft breathing.
Miguel pushes the door open softly and sure enough there you are. You lay on the bed, under warm covers. The blanket reaches your collarbone area, keeping you warm. He steps in quietly, noticing the sunlight filtering through the windows and just before he calls for her, Lyla appears and gestures to the windows. Miguel nods gently as he watches his AI assistant give the command for the holographic blinds to lower. He watches for a few seconds as they’re lowered before he lifts his hand, giving a silent command to stop when they’re two thirds of the way closed as he doesn’t want you to wake up in full darkness.
He nods at Lyla who gives him a thumbs up and disappears, sensing that she needs to head out. Miguel watches you sleep. Your face is relaxed and there’s a soft look on your face. You’re, as always, hugging a pillow. Your breathing is soft and even - a sound that Miguel is far too well acquainted with, for this sound is his lullaby.
His hands still itch and he wonders, if you were awake, would he have done it? Would he have walked up to you and hugged you? Or would he have told you that you could hug him, and then he’d embrace you? Miguel shakes his head. There’s no use in thinking about it now. You’re asleep. Still… Miguel steps closer and extends his arm towards you. His index finger is inches away from your cheek.
Miguel retrieves his arm and drops it, telling himself you’re asleep and that it would be inappropriate to touch you, even if it’s only your face. He sighs quietly, looking around the room and making sure everything is alright. He wants to ensure that you’re safe and sound, one last time. Earlier when he came to place the blanket and organized your belongings a little better, he made sure that all the furniture was in good standing. He even made sure the floating shelves were secured to avoid any sort of injury, or to avoid your belongings falling.
Satisfied, Miguel glances back at you one more time. You’re fast asleep, resting after the exhausting early morning you had. He walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door the way you left it and returns back downstairs to make sure everything is turned off at the kitchen.
At last, Miguel heads to HQ, feeling like he’s missing something.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Miguel closes a tab just as he hears people talking. He’d usually narrow his eyes in annoyance that people walked in unannounced - even if this is the norm from almost everyone - but today he requested this group specifically. He turns around as he hears the voices grow louder, and already, he can hear your name being mentioned.
“I sent her a message earlier to ask if she wanted a bagel. She seems to be offline,” he hears Gwen say.
“Offline? She’s never offline,” Miles replies, his tone uncertain about the situation.
“Maybe she needed a little break but… I think she would’ve told us she was doing that,” Peter B. adds with furrowed eyebrows. His gears already turning as he holds Mayday.
“That’s because I disabled her gizmo’s notifications,” Miguel says, immediately catching everyone’s attention.
“Is Y/N okay?” Pav asks, looking at Miguel with concern.
Miguel nods, his face softening at the sight of your concerned friends, especially from the younger members, the spiderlings. “She’s okay. She’s safe. Just - exhausted,” Miguel says to reassure your friends about your safety before he tells them about the fire. Your friends listen intently, concern clear on their faces as Miguel explains the situation, emphasizing that you’re safe and uninjured. “She’s here.”
“Here at HQ?” Noir asks.
Miguel shakes his head. “No. Not here at HQ. She’s here in Nueva York, but she’s staying at my place. I don’t know… For how long,” Miguel says pausing. He doesn’t know what your plans are. Will you be staying there for however is necessary, or will you try to go somewhere else? He tells himself that’s a question for later, for now all that matters is that you recover and rest. “But, she wanted to let you know that she’s okay. She has no injuries, thankfully. Her floor was spared from the fire, and we can only hope that the building remains stable,” Miguel continues. “I’m not sure that she’ll be here today. I think she should rest but, just know she’s safe.”
“Man,” Peter B. says almost in disbelief, hugging Mayday closer. “Why didn’t she ask for backup?”
Miguel turns to Peter B., agreeing more than ever on something with him. “She didn’t want backup. She asked Lyla not to notify anyone, but I’m sure you all know that she - she’s always -” Miguel pauses, feeling the stares from the members. “She’s always diligent. Always cautious. She’s - ” Miguel waves a hand around as if telling the members that they should know this. The members watch him, fighting the urge to smile because it’s not every day that Miguel O’Hara gives compliments. “She’s amazing, so she did well on her own,” Miguel finally manages to say. “She’s just exhausted. If you wish to tell her something, I’ll set it up so that the notifications don’t disturb her sleep, or you can wait till later in the day and maybe do a live call.”
Your friends nod, feeling sad that you’re going through this but they’re relieved that you’re uninjured and if all goes well, your apartment should be fine.
“What if the building becomes unstable and her belongings are all lost?” Margo asks.
Miguel turns to Margo, his eyes moving to everyone. His eyes stop on Jess, who raises one eyebrow at him, wondering, too. He nods at your friends.
“I offered to store her belongings here but I’ll ask her again.”
“We can help her move her items if she agrees,” Pav replies.
Miguel looks around, watching everyone nod at Pav’s statement. He feels comforted by the fact that your friends are so supportive.
“I’ll let her know,” Miguel responds gently.
He watches as your friends begin to talk, sharing ideas of things they want to do to be supportive. Miguel stares at them as they walk out, planning. He turns to Jess and Peter B. who stick around.
“I’m glad you guys stuck around. I wanted to ask you something,” Miguel starts, facing them.
“We’ll take care of it,” Jess responds.
“What?” Miguel replies, frowning.
“She said we’ll take care of it,” Peter B. says with a knowing smirk.
Miguel glances between the two of them.
“You’ll do your thing for about an hour and then go home, right? That’s what you’re doing.”
Miguel turns to Jess, still frowning.
“We got it, Miguel. You don’t have to worry. We’ve done it before, remember? About a year ago when you were injured. You go and, you know,” Peter say as he plays with Mayday’s hand, who looks up at him and nods her head, as if she, too is telling him to go.
Miguel loses the frown and nods, having no way to deny that they figured out his plan.
“Right. So you guys will be okay?” Miguel asks.
“Yes,” Jess replies. “You go and check on her. Give us the hour before you head out though. I’d like to put something together for her, and as you heard, the other members want to do something. That way you can take it to her.”
“I’ll let everyone know that we have about an hour,” Peter says nodding at Jess.
“Alright. I’ll be working on some things here,” Miguel replies gazing at the two members. “Thank you,” he adds, sharing a look with them.
“No problem,” Jess responds.
“Happy to help. We just want Y/N to be okay and feel supported. She loves her apartment so much, I’m glad the fire didn’t reach her floor,” Peter says.
“Me, too,” Miguel answers softly, turning away to begin working on his screens.
Jess and Peter B., unbeknownst to Miguel, share a knowing look before they head out.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
An hour later, Miguel closes out from his tabs, ready to head out. He would be lying if he said that he hasn’t been thinking about you or that he’s been asking Lyla to check on you while he’s away. It’s been reassuring to have her check on you, at least.
Miguel quickly gathers different items that he needs to take with him, since he’s decided that he’ll be working from home for the rest of the day and then, he waits on his platform. Jess and Peter told the others he’ll be heading out to check on you and that he might not come back, even though they both know he’s not coming back today for sure. He looks up just as your friends come into view, carrying bags with them.
He receives bag after bag, nodding at your friends as they share tidbits about the items they bought you. Miguel finds it endearing, of course. His lips twitch, wanting to curl into a smile as the younger members mention buying your favorite snacks from their universe.
“I’ll give her everything when she wakes up,” Miguel promises, finding common ground with your friends.
Your group of friends thank him but before they head out, Miguel remembers something. “I’ve enabled her notifications again, only for you guys, so if you wish to send her something, it’ll go through.”
Your friends nod happily at the news and as Miguel prepares to leave, he can hear their giddy voices about being able to send you messages again. He shakes his head and smiles softly before he heads out, ready to check on you.
It doesn’t take long for Miguel to reach his home. He finds himself quickly there and after placing all the bags your friends sent on the kitchen counter, Miguel heads upstairs to check on you. He finds you in bed, still sleeping. You’ve changed sides but you’re still holding on to your pillow. The sight satisfies him. He’s relieved that you’re resting and that you seem so peaceful after everything.
Miguel heads back to his bedroom and takes a shower since he didn’t take one before leaving for HQ and dresses in comfortable clothes. His plan is to stick around the penthouse for the day and help you get settled in. He also wants to look around the penthouse and make sure there’s space for you to set your items if you wish to, since all Miguel wants is for you to feel at home.
After checking the entire place for any necessary changes, Miguel starts thinking about lunch. He debates between ordering takeout or cooking something and ultimately decides to cook, believing that a homemade meal will be more appreciated. He thinks about what he should cook and eventually decides on a few dishes, knowing he has the items necessary before he checks on your universe. He knows you always do a morning patrol so he has Lyla check and make sure there’s no emergencies. He also checks on your building to make sure that it’s still standing. He sighs in relief when he sees that it is through his screens at home. He reminds himself to offer to bring the rest of your belongings again once you wake up since even your other friends offered, meaning everyone is on board.
Miguel works on other things throughout the morning, reading data from other universes - making sure the fate of the multiverse isn’t in jeopardy but every thirty minutes or so, he asks Lyla to check on you since he doesn’t want to end up waking you by accident with him checking on you physically. Thankfully, Lyla reports that you’re well and still sleeping peacefully.
It’s not until almost noon that you wake up. You feel lost for a few seconds, not realizing where you are until you remember that you’re in Miguel’s penthouse after what happened this morning. You sigh heavily and sit up, pushing the covers off you and stretching. Your muscles feel sore but stretching eases them so you spend a few minutes doing this until you feel slightly better. You get out of bed and head to the bathroom to use it before you return to the bedroom to change out of your current clothes. You change into comfortable clothes yet they help you wake up and get into the errand mindset. You have some things you wish to do today, at least the high priority ones.
Feeling a bit more together, you head downstairs to get some water since you’re feeling thirsty but pause when you hear soft music. You frown slightly, wondering if you’re just imagining it since you’re certain that Miguel is at HQ but when you reach the bottom of the stairs and find yourself in the living room, you hear it clearly. Miguel’s record player that you gifted him for Christmas about a month ago is playing. You stand there for a few seconds, appreciating the music as it’s Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon” - one of your favorite songs of hers.
“And then they suddenly appeared before me, the only one my arms will ever hold”
“You’re awake.”
You turn, surprised. “Miguel.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he walks further into the living room. His eyes scan your face subtly, searching for any sign of trouble or illness, however, his mind quickly returns to your words from this morning. Thinking about that leads him to remember his internal debate about opening more to physical touch and how he almost touched your cheek in your slumber, causing his cheeks to feel warm suddenly.
“Better. So much better,” you reply honestly, giving him a small smile. You don’t seem to remember what you said, at least not now. “My muscles feel a little sore but, I feel rested. Thank you for asking. For everything, truly,” you add sincerely, which triggers your memory suddenly. You freeze for a few seconds as you remember, feeling your cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, so you avert your gaze from Miguel’s. “I… I just remembered what I said this morning and,” you pause, scratching your neck gently, nervously. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with what I said. The words were just - rolling off my mouth.”
Miguel stands about twelve feet away from you, noticing the way you avert your gaze from him, the way you nervously scratch your neck, and how embarrassed you seem suddenly. He feels ternura rush through him as he stares at you. It’s the opposite of what you think you’ve made him feel, so he steps closer, wanting to assure you.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, so please don’t stress about it. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about either. I understand you were exhausted, it’s only reasonable, and besides…” Miguel trails off, and now he’s the one scratching his neck nervously at what he’s going to say. He’s never actually talked about it, not even with Jess who seems to have been the one who told you about it some time ago - about him not being able to do physical touch. “You know the reason why I can’t but… I want you to know something.”
You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his. You both stare at each other with a soft, tender expression.
“I feel honored that you - you want to do that,” Miguel says quietly, holding your gaze. “That I’m somehow worthy of you wanting to - embrace.” Miguel pauses and looks away for a few seconds. “You know that I’m trying,” he continues, his eyes meeting yours again. He lifts his hand, his pinky finger being the only finger that’s straighten up. “I know it’s nothing compared to an actual embrace but I’m working on it.”
You nod gently, smiling warmly at him. This is the first time Miguel has ever brought up the pinky squeezes or physical touch for that matter. You’ve known for some time now that his pinky squeezes are intentional but hearing Miguel audibly admit that they are makes your heart flutter with happiness.
Miguel gives you a small smile, still holding his pinky finger up. He remembers this morning and how he was feeling - how he went upstairs, not knowing what he would’ve done if you had been awake.
You slowly lift your hand, your pinky finger out, returning the gesture from a far.
Miguel sees it, of course, and with his mind on this morning’s events, he steps closer before pausing. He stays still for a few seconds before he takes several more steps until he’s just about three feet away from you - your pinkies within reach now.
You watch him gently, with curious eyes. So far, Miguel has always found some kind of loop, an excuse to make the gesture seem unintentional. There’s always an object exchanged between the two of you that allows the pinky squeeze to happen, to make it seem like the gesture wasn’t planned.
Miguel looks down at your pinky and then his. Your hands are empty, and so are his. He has no way to excuse his gesture, and he’s not sure that he wants one anymore. He moves his hand closer, his pinky just inches from yours. He looks at you, his beautiful red eyes meeting yours and you see it clearly. A question. Is it okay?
You nod, still smiling softly at him but keeping your hand still. You know the significance of this moment, how big of a step this is for Miguel in his journey to move forward. You stand still, giving Miguel time to decide if he really wants to do this. You’ve never pushed his boundaries, and you have no intentions of doing that now, or ever. You’ll always be patient and respectful of him, no matter what.
Knowing this, Miguel slowly moves his pinky towards yours. He feels comfortable and unhurried as you stand there, letting him decide if he wants to proceed.
And he does.
Miguel’s pinky touches yours at last, making your fingers look like an “X” for a second before Miguel wraps his finger around yours gently.
You remain still, feeling Miguel’s warm finger wrap around yours. You can see the size difference - the way the tip of his finger is enough to wrap around yours. His finger feels soft and you feel a little overwhelmed with the fact that this is happening, that Miguel is really doing this. Just when you’re growing used to this feeling, you see and feel Miguel’s pinky give yours a gentle squeeze. You lift your gaze from your united pinkies to his face, finding him staring at your fingers, too. There’s a light blush grazing his cheeks and when his gaze meets yours, you can see vulnerability and yet, happiness, too.
Miguel holds your gaze, and smiles softly at you. He's done it. It's a small step but a big one regardless.
You don't squeeze his pinky back but slightly brush your finger against his, a sensation that Miguel finds comforting. You stay like this for a minute, or maybe two until your gizmo goes off. The sound startles the two of you but your pinkies remain locked with each other for a few more seconds before you feel Miguel’s pinky release yours gently, leading to both of you dropping your arms down at your sides. You both feel the loss of touch but of course, neither of you mention it.
“That’s probably your other friends. They were really worried about you when I told them what happened,” Miguel says gazing at you. “They sent you gifts - they’re in the kitchen, which reminds me, I have lunch ready if you’re hungry.”
Miguel gestures to the kitchen just as your hunger hits you. You grin sheepishly at him and nod. “I’m actually starving… Thank you, Miguel,” you tell him sincerely, feeling grateful not only for offering lunch but for everything else, especially what he opened himself to do just now. You offer him a smile, warm and sweet, as you think about this new step he has taken. You also hang on to the fact that he said your “other” friends, indirectly calling himself your friend.
“Always,” Miguel replies softly, his gaze still meeting yours as he’s overcome with a great happiness. He has been trying for months, ever since his near death experience back in the spring. He briefly realizes soon it’ll be a year since that happened, which is crazy to him - how fast the months have gone by. However, he’s relieved by the fact that he has stuck to his promise. He said he’d be trying, and he has. His steps may be small and slow, but they’re steps nonetheless, and they’re steps that he might have not taken if it wasn’t for you and that incident. “C’mon,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him. “I cooked something I think you’ll love.”
You follow Miguel to the kitchen, spotting bags on the counter. You figure those are the things that your friends sent, but decide to look at them later. For now, you take a seat as Miguel gestures for you to do so, and realize what he made.
“Flautas,” Miguel says as he carefully but quickly serves you a plate with flautas. The toppings are already set out since Miguel placed them right before he was about to go and check on you. After placing your plate down, Miguel retrieves glasses before he pours you a glass of agua de Jamaica, freshly made.
You watch in appreciation at how extra attentive Miguel is right now. He is always attentive but somehow, he’s even more so today. You thank him quietly and offer Miguel a smile, who is trying to make sure that you have everything you need.
“Always,” Miguel replies, taking notice of your smile. This morning you were giving him smiles and while they were warm and welcoming as always, he could see they were small and exhausted smiles. It was visible to Miguel that the fire took a toll on you, both physically and emotionally. Now, your smile is the same as always. It’s warm, welcoming, and bright. It’s lively, and the difference makes Miguel happy and relieved. He reciprocates with a soft smile, his gaze warm. “Do you feel rested?”
“I do, thank you. For the food and for- ,” you pause, smiling. “For everything.” You give Miguel a little nod, deciding to keep it simple and not go off like you did earlier. “I think I passed out as soon as I laid down,” you say, chuckling a little. “I don’t remember even falling asleep.”
Miguel grins softly, though his mind turns to this morning when he went into your bedroom. He feels embarrassed thinking about how he almost brushed his finger over your cheek as you slept peacefully. He clears his throat, trying to put that thought away. “I’m glad that you feel rested, and I’m not surprised you fell asleep so fast. You helped evacuate so many people, including that firefighter who was injured. It was a lot and you were - well, you were amazing,” Miguel says gently, remembering that you were a bit sensitive when he said that earlier. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his words but he also cannot seem to stop himself from telling you the truth.
You smile at him, your cheeks growing warm as Miguel tells you, once again, that you were amazing. You look away a bit shyly, something that Miguel notices. It’s not often that he sees you like this, and he can’t help but find it sweet.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I was just - really hoping no one was hurt. Thankfully there were no tenants injured, at least not seriously. Some of them had a few bruises from them rushing to get out, but there were no casualties.” You pause, thinking about your building. “My building… I hope it’s still standing, and hope it remains like that.”
“It’s still standing,” Miguel quickly says to reassure you. “I’ve been checking on it.”
You sigh in relief. “That’s good, that’s… I’m so relieved. I need to go and check on the area, see what’s happening. I think it was an electrical fire,” you say before you start adding toppings to your plate, and taking a gentle bite.
Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up as he hears this. He hasn’t thought about the cause of the fire, but now that you’ve mention your suspicion, he can’t help but think about the condition of your building. He recalls the time he fixed some things in your kitchen, asking you about those little details. Your building is on the older side, and now that you’ve mentioned it possibly being an electrical fire - it makes Miguel wonder if the building is even up to standards on the electrical aspect. The possibility that it’s not, worries Miguel.
“What did you notice?” he asks.
You wipe your mouth before telling Miguel about the notice your landlord gave out, and the young women you ran into on New Year’s Eve and their short conversation, to how the fire seems to have started on their floor.
“Of course, I’m not saying it was them but… It does lead me to believe that maybe because of the holidays there were other tenants who overloaded the circuits. I’m not really knowledgeable on this but you know,” you say softly and Miguel nods. “That’s why I think it was an electrical fire. I wonder how soon they can figure it out. I don’t think it was arson, but I guess I’m just being wishful.”
Miguel nods and considers your words. “Maybe it was an electrical fire.” He frowns softly to himself as he pours some agua de Jamaica for himself. “Perhaps they have an idea by now of what happened.”
“I hope so. I would like to know.”
“Well… how about we eat and then we can head over there?”
“I would appreciate it, but I don’t want to disrupt your day. You probably have so many things to do at HQ.”
Miguel takes a seat next you, placing his plate in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. Jess is there and so is Peter. If there’s an emergency, they’ll let me know. Everything else I can keep track of from here, and I’ve taken care of a lot of tasks already throughout the morning.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him, unsure. The last thing you want to do is disrupt his day when you know how important the fate of the multiverse is to him.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Miguel replies with a small grin.
The two of you eat and listen to music while Miguel tells you about your friends, and how worried they were about you. You smile all the while, feeling grateful for such amazing friends. After finishing eating, Miguel begins cleaning the kitchen, telling you not to worry about helping him even when you offer. So, you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down everything you need to do while Miguel quietly cleans. You make a list quickly, mentally walking through your apartment and remembering what needs to be taken care of immediately.
Once you finish creating your list, you head upstairs and change into dark clothes because you remember that your suit is dirty from the morning and you have yet to wash it. To hide your face, you wear a hoodie. When you head back downstairs, Miguel looks at you with a bit of surprise before he remembers your suit.
“Your suit,” he says. “I forgot to tell you that we could put it to wash. It would’ve been ready by now if I had remembered.”
“It’s alright, please don’t worry about it. With so much happening, washing the suit was the last thing I was thinking about.”
“We can put it to wash right now while we’re out,” Miguel offers, and you decide to take him up on that offer.
After putting your clothes to wash, you meet Miguel in the living room. You find him inspecting something small in his hands, and upon hearing you join him, he turns fully to face you. He extends his arm out to you, offering a small device. You look at him and then back at the device with curiosity before you take the device from his hand.
“So you can have a digital suit on” Miguel explains. “It’s just a black and grey suit with a simple spider web design. I remember I had it from the early days just laying around in the office upstairs. That way your face can be covered just in case there’s civilians.”
Nodding, you inspect the small device before you smile at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Definitely don’t want anyone to get any ideas about my identity.”
Miguel helps you set up the digital suit, telling you how to disengage it, which takes a few tries but eventually you get it. You can’t help but think of all the pros of having a digital suit as you look at your hands, reminding you of the time Miguel offered a new suit after he unintentionally ripped a bit from his accident several months ago. You grin at him once you disengage the mask.
“Very cool. I could get used to this, I think,” you tell him and he grins back.
“It’s nice having not to worry about washing a suit but there’s some cons,” he replies as he engages his, suddenly standing in his suit in the blink of an eye. He disengages the mask, still grinning at you. “Something could happen - a malfunction - and leave your identity exposed. I guess that’s really the big con. You could also accidentally break the chip, and well, you’re left with nothing, not even a malfunction to fix. It’s happened before,” he says with a frown, remembering the time it happened.
You chuckle softly at the way he frowns which makes him smile gently at you.
“You could also accidentally delete the file, or your AI assistant does it because she thinks it’s funny.”
“Lyla,” you say with an amused smile.
“Lyla,” Miguel repeats shaking his head. “I have these bags ready so we can transport things easier, at least when traveling the multiverse,” Miguel says showing you.
“Thank you, that’ll definitely make it easier to move some things around.”
“Great, you ready?”
Once you nod, Miguel opens a portal to your universe. The two of you step out onto a random rooftop before you make your way to your building. You look for a few minutes at the condition. It looks different in daylight and without the adrenaline pumping through your body. In daylight and with no smoke, you can see the true damage. You say nothing but both you and Miguel can see that reconstruction will take some time. At least two months or so, if you and the other tenants are lucky. The only thing that gives you hope is the fact that the building is stable, or it seems to be.
“It would’ve fallen by now if it was unstable, right?” you ask Miguel softly.
Sensing that you want some reassurance, Miguel gently nods, and thankfully he doesn’t have to lie. He’s sure that it would’ve already collapsed, or shown signs, if it was going to but your building stands firm. “I’m sure it would’ve. I also…” Miguel trails off as his eyes scan the sidewalk, looking for some kind of warning. “I don’t see any sign warning about it. And look, the street is functioning. Surely they would’ve blocked the entire thing. It seems to be stable.”
You nod as your own eyes sweep the area, finding no sign like Miguel said, which relieves you.
“Do you want to head inside?” Miguel asks, wondering if maybe you need more time.
“Yes.”
With that, the two of you sneak into the building. You walk down the hallway, finding doors opened like you left them earlier this morning when you were making sure that everyone was out. Miguel looks around, his nose immediately registering the smell of smoke even though this floor was spared from the fire. You push the door open to your apartment, finding it ajar, and enter with Miguel behind. You look around for a few seconds, the smell of smoke is definitely here even if it’s not as strong as it probably is on the floors below.
Miguel stands back, letting you assess the space. He knows how much this apartment means to you, and he can imagine what you must be feeling right now. He’s glad your floor is still standing at least, but this is still a sad situation he wishes you hadn’t experienced at all.
“Right,” you say with a sigh. You disengage your suit and pull out the list you created earlier from a pocket, engaging the suit again minus the mask. “The fridge and food are the first thing.”
“You tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it,” Miguel says behind you, not wanting to overstep.
“I’ll go through the fridge. Do you mind taking out the food from the cabinets there?” you ask politely, gesturing to some cabinets.
“Not at all. I’ll pack it up,” Miguel replies as the two of you head into the kitchen area of your apartment.
You begin working on the fridge, cleaning it out to avoid spoiled food, and packing away things like drinks and other items that should still be good. You eventually move to the top of the fridge where you store your cereal. It was where Peter always placed it, and you kept it there even after his passing.
Packing away some cans of food, Miguel looks up as you place a cereal box labeled Spider O’s into a bag, catching his attention. He didn’t know you had your own Spider-Woman cereal. He continues to work on clearing out your cabinets, deciding it’s a story for later.
With the two of you working together, it takes twenty minutes to clean the kitchen. Miguel takes care of your garbage while you move to other areas of your apartment, like your living room. You eventually move to your closet to pack more clothes and other necessities while Miguel takes what’s already packed to his dimension. As he leaves to take two bags, you remember you haven’t agreed to staying at his place beyond tonight, reminding you that you still need to discuss that. You let yourself think about it as you pack other items until Miguel returns. A few minutes later, you’re taking out clothes from the dryer when he arrives.
“Need help?”
“No, it’s alright. I got it. I was packing my detergents when I remembered I have clothes on both machines.”
Miguel nods as he hands you a laundry basket for the damp clothes. “We can put those to wash again, if you’d like. They might smell like smoke.”
”Yes, you’re right,” you reply as you start placing the clothes on the laundry basket.
Miguel picks up another bag, closing it carefully. “Are there other bags ready for me to take?”
You gesture to some bags that mostly contain your clothes. “Those right there. This is the last of everything, so I can take some of them, too.”
“I can carry them, don’t worry. If you want to look around and make sure you have everything, go ahead. Take your time,” Miguel says softly, wanting to emphasize that you don’t need to rush.
“Thank you. I’m doing a quick scan but - looking at my list, that should be it,” you say as you pull out your list once again. You check it, looking for anything you may have skipped but find nothing. “That’s it from my list, but I’ll do one more round just to make sure.”
With your laundry basket pressed against your hip, you walk around the apartment trying to see if there’s anything else that needs to be done. You’re certain you’ll be returning over the next few days just to check up on things - maybe even open the windows a little bit while you do patrols to let the smell of smoke out. At last, you feel satisfied and see nothing else to do or retrieve, at least not at this moment. You sigh softly, thinking. You want to go downstairs, to the floors that were directly affected, but you say nothing.
Miguel and you return to Nueva York, to his penthouse. When you step out onto Miguel’s living room, you spot the bags. They’re all neatly aligned against a wall, ready to be unpacked.
“I’ve put the bags with food at the kitchen. I went ahead and put what was refrigerated in the fridge, so you don’t have to worry about that. I figure the rest of the non-perishable food can be organized later.”
“That sounds great, thank you,” you reply giving Miguel a warm smile. “You’ve helped me so much. I really appreciate it.”
“Always,” Miguel replies with a soft smile before he glances at the bags. “We organize those when we’re back?” You stare at him with curiosity, so he continues. “You want to look at the building, right? I’d like to go with you, just to make sure you’re safe. There may be loose debris.”
“You know me too well,” you reply, which makes Miguel smile once again. “I do want to look. Maybe it’s silly of me but, I’d like to for some reason.”
“It’s not silly,” Miguel says as he engages his mask again. “I’d want to do the same thing, so I understand completely. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Miguel and you step over debris once you find yourselves on the main floor where the fire started. As Miguel predicted, there are loose wooden boards hanging from the ceiling in some areas. There are holes in the floor and what is left standing is damaged. You warn Miguel to be careful as you head to the first apartment you were in earlier this morning. Looking around, there are signs that this apartment had it worse than other areas, leading you to believe that this is where the fire started for sure.
“This was the first apartment I came into. The apartment belongs to the young women.”
“It seems to be in the worst condition,” Miguel says as he inspects a wooden board.
“I was thinking that, too,” you reply as you move about, careful not to hurt yourself. You keep an eye on Miguel as well, especially knowing that he doesn’t have a spidey sense, so he doesn’t end up injured.
You check what’s left of a wall, not really having a purpose for being here other than seeing the damage up close for yourself. You inspect the wall before moving away, your eyes scanning what’s left of burnt items. Your gaze stops on exposed wires, catching your attention immediately. Upon closer inspection, without touching, you read the label on them. Something about the brand’s name reminds you of something, but you can’t pinpoint it in this moment.
“What did you find?” Miguel asks standing next to you now, finding you gazing closely at something.
“Some wires. I think this is what’s left of a string of lights. I was just thinking how the brand’s name sounds familiar but I can’t remember from where,” you say with a shrug.
Miguel takes a look at it. Something about it also strikes him but he, too, cannot pinpoint it.
“OBRN.”
“OBRN,” you repeat but shake your head. “I’m probably overthinking, but finding this and seeing the state of this one apartment does seem like the fire started here. I guess we’ll have to see.”
Miguel frowns at what’s left of the string of lights, wondering how the tag survived the fire but dropping the topic for your sake. Despite resting during the morning, Miguel is sure this is still exhausting, if not physically, at least mentally and emotionally.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to wait,” he replies as you turn away, quickly typing something onto his gizmo before he follows you.
You sigh softly and nod at Miguel. “This is definitely going to take some time,” you murmur more to yourself than Miguel, sadness and disbelief laced in your tone.
Miguel detects it and stands next to you, trying to provide some comfort with his presence. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. “The building will be fully functional in no time, I’m sure.”
Smiling once again, you nod at Miguel’s words. “Yes… You’re right. Everything will be okay,” you state, embracing those words.
The two of you stand there for a few minutes in silence. You decide it’s time to go as you feel a breeze hit your unmasked face, causing you to shiver and remember winter just started.
“Do you want to head back?” Miguel asks, noticing the breeze and the way you shivered.
“Yeah, I think it’s time. It’s getting colder,” you reply.
“It is,” Miguel answers as he opens a portal for the two of you, finding it safe to do so in this space.
The two of you head back to Nueva York, which makes you realize Miguel has traveled from your universe to his multiple times today just to help you. As you travel between universes, you tell yourself you’ll bake something for him in the next few days as a way to show your appreciation for all his help and support. Once in Nueva York, you put a load of clothes to wash since most of your clothes smell like smoke. You also put your suit and the other clothes you had on this morning to dry with Miguel’s gentle encouraging to make yourself at home and to feel comfortable using the penthouse however you need to.
Afterwards, Miguel helps you organize the food that was brought from your home, finding cabinets to store it at without messing his kitchen organization, something you were worried about. Of course, Miguel didn’t mind at all.
After a little break and showering again because of the smell of smoke, the two of you move upstairs to your bedroom for the evening. You’ve made your mind up but there’s some things you want to talk about with Miguel, points you hope to discuss later.
In the meantime, you and Miguel fix the bedroom. You set up your personal hygiene products on the dresser while Miguel safely unpacks your records and places them on the bookshelf. You proceed to place Peter’s record player on the desk for now and other items that belonged to him on the bookshelf.
As you do that, Miguel moves towards a box he remembers carrying here earlier in the morning. He doesn’t know what’s in it but he carefully picks it up and asks where he should place it.
“That’s Peter’s… belongings,” you reply softly as you stare at the box.
Miguel notices your lingering gaze, the way it softens. He gently offers it to you, figuring that you want to handle this box personally. You smile at him with respect and endearment, and surprisingly, shake your head.
“I trust you with it. I’m not opening it right now. I haven’t opened it in… some time, to be honest,” you reveal, holding one of Peter’s belongings. “I think it can go under the desk for now. Thank you, Miguel.”
He nods with a soft smile, feeling touched that you trust him with this box knowing how much Peter and his belongings mean to you. He proceeds to place the box under the desk, carefully, before moving on to something else.
At last, the two of you are done. You both sit on the bed and look around the room, seeing the progress. All throughout the process of fixing up the bedroom, you’ve been keeping track of the laundry, a chore you decide to tackle tomorrow when you realize it’s been a few hours since you and Miguel headed to your universe. There’s also the fact that you haven’t done a patrol at your universe, something that nags you.
Looking around the room, you notice how this feels like “your” room now. There’s Peter’s record player on the desk and your technology devices. Your personal hygiene products and other accessories are on the dresser. Some of your pictures are displayed on floating shelves, some of which include Miguel.
“Thank you for helping me set up,” you tell Miguel quietly.
He nods, looking at some of the photos. “Always,” he says turning his gaze towards you.
You grin at him before you check the time on your gizmo. “I’m going to - head out for a little bit. To patrol,” you explain. “I didn’t do my morning patrol, and it feels weird.”
“Understandably,” Miguel replies. “It’s just for today though. You’ll fall back into your routine, I’m sure of it.” Miguel turns to the window, noticing the sun has almost disappeared for the day before he returns his gaze to you. “I’ll be here if you need anything during your patrol. Take it easy, okay?”
“I will,” you reply with a small grin before you stand up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Miguel nods watching you leave the bedroom and sitting in the room for a little while, thinking about dinner.
You head to your universe and patrol, feeling some sense of normalcy as you do this. You fly around your city, making your usual stops and feeling more at ease. Your night patrol makes you feel better as you swing between buildings and cars below, even when you think about Peter and his words from the dream. You give a silent thank you to him, finding his words soothing. Fortunately, you find no trouble or emergency, so you decide to head back to Nueva York an hour later, knowing you’ll still be able to know if something does happen.
It’s then that you receive a notification from Miguel telling you that he’s buying dinner and that he’ll wait for you on a rooftop, which makes you wonder for a few seconds before he sends coordinates. You head to Nueva York, traveling directly to the rooftop Miguel told you, realizing it’s a round building. You step out and look around, finding no one. You walk to the edge of the rooftop, looking at the nearby buildings and streets below in hopes of spotting Miguel. It takes you a few seconds but you eventually sense his presence through your spidey senses, or at least you believe it’s him. As you look around, you finally spot his suit as he swings from building to building with one arm while he holds things in the other.
He reaches you in no time, landing gently on the rooftop. His mask disengages as he approaches you.
“How did it go?” he asks.
“It went well,” you reply. “No encounters. It was peaceful.”
“That’s good,” Miguel says as he hands you a to-go cup. “I’m glad you had no trouble, especially after today.”
You thank him for the drink and nod. For some reason, it feels like it’s been days since the fire, as if it wasn’t this morning when you woke up and realized your building was on fire. You sigh quietly, chalking it up to the fact that it has been a long day.
“I hope you don’t mind but I bought tacos. There’s this great place in downtown and they make the best. I would say they have the best ones in Nueva York, really, and I thought after everything that it’d be nice to just eat out. Gabriel also used to say there’s nothing like tacos to lift someone’s spirits,” Miguel says with a soft smile as he gestures for you to join him.
You smile back and follow him as he reaches the edge of the rooftop. He places the bags on the ground before he sits down, his legs danging off the building. You look around for a few seconds before you join him, the bags between the two of you now. You watch as he pulls out boxes from a bag before he spreads the empty bag on the floor, and then placing the boxes over it so the boxes don’t make contact with the ground.
“That’s agua de horchata. I was going to get you agua de Jamaica but - the place is known for their agua de horchata, so I figured why not,” Miguel explains as he hands you a straw.
You grin and accept the straw before you try the drink, and of course, it’s amazing. “I can see why. It’s so good!”
Smiling, Miguel hands you napkins. “I thought you’d like it. On the tacos, I order a few of each since I didn’t know what kind you wanted, and I didn’t want to distract you while you were patrolling, so I thought this was a good option.” Miguel puts his straw into his cup, thinking. He’s telling a half-truth. He could’ve sent you a quick message about your order but he truly didn’t want to disturb you. He knows today has been a long day, not only because of the fire itself but the aftermath, too, with packing and taking care of the little things like the fridge and the food. He hoped that nothing came up at your universe so you could have a moment of peace, at least. Thankfully, it seems that it went well since he can see that you’re in good spirits. The other reason why he didn’t reach out about the food is because he wanted to surprise you.
He got the idea after you left and he remained in the bedroom, thinking about dinner. Being in Gabriel’s old room, Miguel remembered what his brother used to say about tacos, about how they could cheer people up. It was always his way to cheer up Miguel when he was stressed out, even back when Miguel was in college. Gabriel always joked that it was his love language, which always made Miguel laugh. He never dared to disagreed with the younger O’Hara on that.
Miguel focuses on the now as the two of you set up the salsas and lime slices to use on your tacos. Once that’s settled, the eating begins. You grab from one kind and Miguel from another, discussing how amazing the tacos are. Miguel tells you to try a salsa, while you tell him to try another one.
Despite the cold weather, the two of you enjoy your food and conversation on the rooftop, eventually talking about other things like your friends. The conversation about them leads you to remember their messages, which you read earlier, and the gifts they sent. You remind yourself to check the gifts once Miguel and you return to his place. At some point the conversation shifts and Miguel is telling you more about Nueva York. He tells you about the buildings around you before he tells you about the stores that can be found in Nueva York’s downtown. He mentions the public libraries, parks, and the Lunar Train, thinking to himself that he hasn’t been to those places in years but that it’d be nice to visit again. He looks at you when he thinks about that - an idea forming in his head but one he doesn’t voice. Not yet, anyway.
After eating, you thank Miguel for the amazing tacos. He asks which ones were your favorites, just so he knows for future reference before you both fall into a comfortable and peaceful silence, drinking from your cups with agua de horchata. Your gazes take in the skyline of Nueva York at night, a sight you’re not used to but one that you love and appreciate when you have the opportunity to. You silently think about how beautiful Nueva York is before you look down, noticing you must be about fifty thousand feet in the air.
Miguel continues to observe the skyline before his eyes move higher up, finding a sky sprinkled with stars. He feels at ease, comfortable like he always does when you’re in his presence. He takes another drink from his cup, thinking. You’ve settled in and things have been taken care off at your apartment for the time being but there’s still something pending. Something neither of you have brought up. He holds on to his cup, still looking at the sky. Should he bring it up now? Should he wait?
Miguel doesn’t want you to feel like he’s pressuring you to stay, or for you to take him asking as a sign that he doesn’t want you to when in reality, it’s the opposite. He hopes you stay at his place so you’re not staying at a hotel with limitations. Plus, he doesn’t like the idea of you staying alone at a hotel, even if he knows that you can take care of yourself. He sighs quietly as he stares at the stars, silently debating. He feels some peace knowing you’ll at least stay at his place for tonight, maybe even the weekend, too.
You look up from the ground and stare at the sky, noticing twinkling stars. You enjoy the sight as you start thinking about how your friends offered a place for you to stay at, especially the Morales family. You’re grateful for your friends and their loved ones who were also worried about you but you politely declined. Everyone lives with someone already whether that’s with parents, spouses, or other friends, like Hobie, so you felt that it would be too much of an inconvenience. The gesture makes you incredibly grateful, however. You have loving and supportive friends.
“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks softly.
You grin. “Honestly? About how everyone has offered me a place to stay in the meantime.” Your gaze drops to Nueva York’s skyline again, feeling Miguel’s eyes on you. “And how I’m so thankful I have all of you. It really means a lot to me. So much,” you say with a soft sigh. “Perhaps I was naive, but I never imagined this happening and - much less without Peter, you know? I’m just… I’m really happy - and so thankful - that I’m not alone,” you confess, turning to face Miguel at last.
Meeting your gaze, Miguel smiles gently, understanding what you mean. He’s glad that you’re not alone anymore, which is something that still bothers him. He hates thinking about how you spent so many years on your own. As time has gone by, Miguel has found himself wondering about those years. Did you ever get sick? Did you ever find yourself unwell because of your period like you did the first time he ever went to your apartment? There were other things he thought about, like the first year without Peter when you had already cut ties with friends. Who was there for you? Who looked after you? Who comforted you?
Miguel knows there was no one, and it bothers him deeply. So much, that he still wishes he would’ve found your universe sooner, even thought you told him a while ago that he found you at the “right” time. His uneasy thoughts about this are soothed by the fact that those days are over for you. You have friends - a little family - that loves and supports you.
And he, thankfully, is part of it.
“You’re not alone,” Miguel says, stating it as a fact. “You have so many people that love and support you. We’re all here for you - the way you’re always here for us.”
You smile brighter at that. “Thanks to the Spider Society,” you say softly. “You know - I can’t believe I declined Jess’s invitation at first.”
Miguel grins, chuckling quietly. “I think I remember you saying multiple times, too.”
“I did. And she came back and asked me again, until she finally convinced me by asking me what Peter would’ve thought.” Your smile softens at the thought of him, your sweet Peter. You turn to the sky, thinking that if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here now. Even in death, Peter has guided and supported you throughout the years.
You think about your dream from this morning, how he warned you about the fire. or at least, it seems so. A warmth spreads throughout your chest as you turn to Miguel. If it wasn’t for Peter, you wouldn’t be here now, next to one of your closest friends. You silently thank Peter.
As to Miguel, he gazes at you, noticing that soft look on your face as you think about the man he never had the opportunity to meet. Despite never meeting the man, Miguel also silently thanks Peter for being the reason you joined the Spider Society - for having you in his life now.
You sigh and smile at Miguel. “I want to negotiate some terms.”
Miguel’s eyebrows raise at this but he quickly realizes what you’re talking about. He gives you a small but playful smirk before he turns his body to you, pulling one of his legs inside and close to his body while leaving the other one still dangling off the rooftop. “Let’s hear these terms then.”
You mirror his position, leaving enough space between each other to place your drinks. “Okay, well first of all - you said not to worry about bills or rent, or even groceries.”
“That’s correct.”
“I realize I cannot help with bills or rent because of our different currency.”
“Yes, and there’s no way for us to convert it either,” Miguel replies all too happily about this.
You playfully glare at him, which only serves to amuse him more. “Yet. We should find a way to do that, to be honest but - as to right now, there’s no way. However, I can buy groceries.”
Miguel saves your idea about establishing a currency conversion system for the future. It might be something fun for the Spider Society. He briefly realizes that he’s into this idea, which makes him recognize that he has shut down other members’ ideas in the past. He wonders.
Is it that he has changed his mind because of the years and his progress in moving forward, or is it because it’s coming from you? He doesn’t have much time to think of it, and he decides maybe it’s for the better, at least for now, before he addresses your statement about buying groceries. “No, you don’t have to do that. I told you this morning that I’ll take care of that. The only thing, food wise, that you need to worry about is if it’s something that’s not available here. Everything else, I got it.”
“But Miguel -” you start, pausing and releasing a gentle but frustrated sigh. “I know I can’t help with bills and rent but please let me help with this. I know you’re being generous - supportive but I don’t want to just, you know. Stay there for however long this will take or however long it’s okay for me to stay-”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Miguel says, losing his smirk for a few seconds. Now he’s the one frustrated. “I wouldn’t be offering if I was planning on asking you to leave at some point. You can stay there for however you need, or want to,” Miguel explains.
“Thank you,” you reply softly. “But that means, it might be a little while, and you’re already being so kind by letting me stay with you. I can’t - just stay there and not contribute somehow.”
“You can, you just don’t want to,” Miguel says gently, earning himself a playful glare again. He grins. “Alright, what are suggesting then?”
“I want to help with groceries, and other ways. I know it’ll be tricky with the groceries, and I don’t have a good plan yet but I want to contribute,” you reply.
Miguel chuckles softly, finding it both endearing and amusing when you admit not having a plan yet, but still wanting to contribute. Understanding where you are coming from, Miguel nods at last. He knows you’re an independent woman in all aspects and you’ve probably become even more so since you’ve lost Peter. He understands that you feel the need to do something, to contribute. He realizes he’s been the same way for years - always trying to be independent. Miguel silently wonders if maybe, this temporary change will help the two of you relearn that some forms of dependency are not bad.
“I understand wanting to contribute somehow and I’ll respect it, even though I want you to know that I mean it when I say you don’t have to worry about these things… What I’m trying to say is that, you don’t need to worry about some kind of payment, Y/N. If it was me, you would be telling me the same thing. I know it,” Miguel replies. “I’ll be more than happy to cook for the two of us, but I also know that on some days you might want to eat something that I don’t know how to cook, so you can buy groceries if you wish but,” Miguel pauses and shrugs, grinning softly. “We could always plan meals. If you want to, of course. Or, have days where we cook something individually, which I’ll always make a plate for you just in case you want to try it. We can think of something, I’m sure of it. We’re not strangers, we’re…” Miguel trails off and nods at you. “You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply quickly, without hesitation.
“Then, you understand. I don’t want any kind of payment. I don’t want you to worry about bills or contributing somehow. I just want you to feel at home as much as possible. I know it’s not the same as your apartment, as your universe but that’s my hope. I understand you want to do something though, so I’ll respect it. We can think of something as the days go by if it makes you feel better,” he offers gently.
“I’d like that. I don’t want this to feel like…” you trail off. “I’m taking advantage of you.”
Miguel shakes his head and smiles, reassuringly. “You’re not. You could never. I’m the one offering, and I’m doing it willingly and happily. I just want to help as much as I can. The same way you would help me.”
You sigh softly and nod. “Alright.”
“So, do we have a deal? Are you open to staying in Nueva York for the meantime?”
You hold Miguel’s gaze and nod. “Yes.”
“Good,” Miguel answers happily, relieved.
“Thank you,” you add gently.
“Always.”
The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before turning to look at Nueva York’s skyline once again in silence, enjoying the rest of your agua de horchata under a star sprinkled sky.
_________ Translations of Spanish words: Mierda - Shit Dios - God Ternura - endearment, tenderness Flautas - literally translates to "flute"; a deep fried tortilla with meat filling and topped with various toppings like cabbage, salsa, fresh cheese Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Agua de Horchata - sweet Latin beverage, mainly made out of rice _________ A/N: Hi, guys!! First update of the year!! I hope January has treated all of you well! 🥰 I'm sorry for the delayed update. I got caught up with some things after the holidays, and then decided to take a little break from social media and writing, so that delayed the update a little bit. I'm so happy that I got the update out before the end of the month though! What do we think, though? WE'RE STAYING AT MIGUEL'S PLACE!! 🥺 And he's so sweet about making you (us) feel at home (not me fangirling about my own work but it's Miguel)!! I just - I love him!! And Miguel being opened to more physical contact? He's moving forward!! 🥹 I hope you guys enjoyed this part!! I also want to give @sunsetdoodler credit and a shoutout for the Spider O's cereal! She included it in this fanart many months ago and I loved it so much I wanted to include it at some point. It'll show up again in the future for sure! Thank you @sunsetdoodler !! Your support means so much to me!! ❤️ Also, shoutout to Ana, or @faretheeoscar who led me to give a bit of a sneak peek about something that will happen in the future thanks to her "Promise Me Miguel" AU based on a dream she had (I wish I could dream of Miguel and our Peter 😭)!! I also want to mention, once again, that there's so much fanart that has been created for this fic by incredible and talented artists!! Please go and check it out, and show some love to the artists!! ❤️ You can find all fanart here - under the "Nonviolent Communication" header! Thank you guys for reading and supporting this story!! It means so, SO MUCH to me!! I truly appreciate all the support - from the reblogs to the comments and likes; to the asks about songs some of you have connected to the story to little scenarios and your thoughts on the story!! I'm always surprised to see that you guys think of the story in your daily life - like, you guys actually think about it? It always makes my day!!! 😭
I'm truly so grateful for all the amazing support this story has received so far, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of it!! 🥺 Thank you guys!!! I hope the beginning of February treats you well!! ❤️ -Alondra
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nervoussagittarius · 19 days
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20191009 I Like Her
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: y/n shows matt a song that explains the way he's been feeling
warnings: none just fluff
"matt, have you ever listened to mac demarco? " you ask as you lay on his bed. there's been a comfortable silence between the two of you as you search for new music and matt sits at his desk playing around with his computer settings.
somehow you had come across one of your old playlists that focused primarily on the album "2" by mac demarco.
while he was one of your favorite artists growing up, you never got the chance to listen to his newer music. matt looked at you for a second and held up a finger signaling that he'd answer you shortly, after he finished changing his desktop files around.
matt was trying to play it cool. he had been having these weird feelings towards you for the past couple days. he didn't know how they developed or what they meant. what he did know is that he didn't want to come off strong or seem overly interested in you even though his mind was screaming at him to say how he's been feeling.
truth be told, he didn't really know how he felt. he had only known you for a couple of months and you started coming around the house more because you were close with nick. though, as time went on you formed a bond with matt that was comfortable and safe. matt was always able to tell when he started liking a girl, but it was harder to find the words to explain how he felt about you.
matt felt the need to keep any relationship between you two strictly platonic. you were nick's friend first, and while he didn't think nick would care he didn't want to lose the trust that he had built with his brother. he vowed to himself that nothing romantic could happen between you two, but as days went on that thought flew further to the back of his head.
"mac demarco," matt asks, he looked at you again. "is he the one who sings salad days'"
"yeah and he has a lot of other good music, but i just found his newest album and there's one hundred and ninety nine songs on it"
you pressed shuffle on the album. it was intriguing that a majority of the songs just had numbers for titles,and no vocals to them, just melodys.
"this song is '20200821 cowboy shit' its different" you said as you both laughed listening to the lyrics.
"it's definitely something" matt replied still not taking his eyes off of you. he admired the way your eyes sparkled as you flicked through the songs. he noticed how your lips turned up in a twinge of a smile when you heard a lyric you liked. he loved moments with you like this. he could sit here with you forever.
"y/n" matt said as the next song started playing. he was nervous to ask the next question. he wanted to know if you could put a name to the emotions he was feeling. you had always been better with this kind of stuff. you knew how to communicate how you felt, and you were always an open book with him. "do you think it's possible for us to like each other as more than friends? i don't really know how to explain it but i've been having these thoughts recently and i cant tell if they're just plationic"
you stared at him in shock of what he was saying. you've had feelings for matt for a few weeks now, but you didn't want to make things weird by saying something.
the words to '20191009 i like her' played in the background as you two just looked at each other. you kept replaying matts question in your head to think of the best way to answer, while matt was focused intently on the lyrics to the song to try to distract himself from the tension that had begun to rise in his room.
i'd give the world to her
as long as my heart's still beating
as long as she's next to me
as long as this love still fleeting
because i like her
matt thought you looked beautiful even though it felt like he could see the wheels turning in your head as you tried to answer his question.
listening to the lyrics, he felt this thought clear, and he knew in this moment that he couldn't say his feeling were just friendly anymore. sensing this, you made your way over to him. he looked at you warily, almost expecting you to yell at him and tell him that that he was crazy.
there was another beat of silence. "i like you y/n, a lot. i would do anything for you. will you please give me a chance?"
without second thought, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed the boy that you had quickly come to like.
could it be make believe?
am i just walking through a dream?
haven't felt this way in
such a long time, i do believe
that i like her
an: i've never written anything like this before so please tell me if you liked it or if you think i should change something. i'm always open to receiving feedback. i really appreciate you guys being here and if i could give each of you a forehead kiss i would
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rkvriki · 11 months
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romantic moments with them - a playlist
omg ana was seen posting??? sorry for not posting but i've been so caught in my studies and i really needed to focus. also enhas comeback??!
make sure to leave feedback ! my requests are open and so is my tlak box so let's talk !
WARNINGS ! none really i think?? warn me if theres any!!
a/n: i got carried away in some of the members so sorry if theres longer one and shorter ones i jutsvfdhfef
word count: 1.8k
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LEE HEESEUNG ! - bills by enhypen
enhypen’s new album had just come out and the showcase was now happening and you were watching it backstage through the monitors watching and supporting heeseung. you watched as danced and sang so passionately and your heart felt full watching him do the things he had always loved doing even before you met him in high school. you felt so proud watching as he and his group grew so much and how far they’ve become. it made you look back at the shy heeseung from a few years ago and see how much he changed, for better obviously, into a carefree person. heeseung was a very hard worker and you had to always remind him not to overwork himself and sometimes you worried he wouldn’t listen to you since you couldn’t be with him at all times. you know he had gone through a lot during his training days and you tried to make sure he didn’t have to go through the same thing now that he had debuted. the performance had just ended and you were waiting for your boyfriend to come backstage. the door finally opened revealing all of the boys sweaty from all their hard work. heeseung ran to you and pulled you up, spinning you in the air as he smothered your face with kisses. he put you down and you stared into each other's eyes like two fools in love, making you both laugh. heeseung cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a sweet and awaited kiss.
rest under the cut !
PARK JONGSEONG ! - die for you by joji 
it was late at night and you and jay were out for a day night. you were just strolling around the city which was almost empty since it was almost midnight and the weather was pretty gloomy. even though it was dark you could still see clouds covering the sky. the walk was pretty silent, you were holding each other's hands, swinging hands back and forth. there was a comfortable silence in the air, the only sound came from people walking by or from the people talking in the esplanades around you. times like this made you feel like you were in a movie where you and jay were the main characters and only you and him mattered. times like these were rare for you and you were always afraid you couldn’t enjoy them to the max, so you tried make the most of them no matter the circumstances. suddenly it started raining, anyone's first instinct would be finding a place to cover themselves, but you two just stood still in the middle of the street, feeling the droplets wet your skin. you looked at each other as the rain got heavier and just laughed. jay pulled you into his arms as you both let out loud chuckles and spun around without a care in the world, enjoying yourselves in the rain. jay pulled you closer, his breath mixing with yours as you leaned closer until your lips connected in a deep kiss.
SIM JAEYUN ! - yukon (interlude) by joji 
you and jake were spending a lazy day indoors, deciding to spend his free day at your apartment and doing things at home. having a full day with jake was a very rare thing to happen lately since he has a especially busy schedule for comeback season so you would only see each other very late at night, only having time for dinner together and him having to leave right after eating since he had to wake up extra early for practices and whatnot. so last night he came over to your apartment to enjoy the silence and privacy you two couldn’t have in the dorms. you were both laid out on your couch as a shitty movie you picked on purpose played on your tv. you both would let out occasional chuckles at awful scenes that would play in the movie. a especially bad scene played and you both started laughing so hard you had to clutch your stomach. words tried to get out of your mouth but none came since you were laughing so hard. you noticed jake’s eyes on you, and you looked at him as your chuckles died down “what?” you asked him, still letting out small giggles. “nothing” he answered “i love you.” he said “oh, why so out of the blue?” you asked, letting out a chuckle as you held his hand. he just shrugged and leaned in to kiss you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, making you smile into the kiss.
PARK SUNGHOON ! - self control by frank ocean
it was one of those rare evenings where sunghoon would appear at your house unannounced and you two would just hang out and sometimes have dinner before he went back to the dorms. this happened often since he never knew when he could or could not visit you, obviously you didn’t mind it, seeing him so unexpectedly always made you so happy and your heart felt so full knowing that he thinks of visiting you at the most random times. dark orange rays were peaking through your blinds since the sun was starting to set. the smell of food could be smelt in the living room as you cooked some food for both of you and some tunes were heard quietly in the kitchen, probably sunghoon putting some music on the speaker you had on the living room. you put the stove on the lowest heat and walked to where sunghoon was, sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. the melody from frank ocean’s self control was playing quietly, the song filling the area. you grabbed sunghoon’s hand and pulled him in a hug, making him chuckle at him but hug you back anyway. he kissed the top of your head and you both started swinging to the rhythm of the song. sunghoon hugged you tighter and you did the same, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat along with the song that played.
KIM SUNOO ! - kiss me by dpr live
dating sunoo sometimes felt like a dream. he always made sure to plan the best days for you two, always trying to make the best out of them since you were always a little restricted as you tried to protect and hide your relationship from the public. he made sure to always prepare everything in advance and also made sure you were up for what he had planned or f you wanted to change anything. you had experienced so many things with him. from getting up at 3:30 am to get ready and watch the sunset in a place 40 minutes away from the city to camping with him in the middle of a mountain he convinced you was safe. today sunoo decided to be a little more cliché and he planned an outdoor date near the hand river, late at night where you could be alone, enjoying each other's presence. you were both laid in the picnic blanket as you looked at the stars and tried to make out the different constellations. “i literally can’t tell any of them apart.” you said looking at him.  sunoo turned to look at you and opened his mouth to say something but he decided to stay quiet and just stare at you. he propped up on his elbows as he observed each of your feature, making you blush under his gaze. he leaned down closer to your face, but only left a peck on the corner of your mouth, teasing you. you started whining at him, making him laugh at your reaction.
YANG JUNGWON ! - jasmine by dpr live
concerts were something you found yourself enjoying a lot ever since you went to your first one. it felt so good to be in a space where so many people shared the same taste and you just loved the energy of people singing along to any songs that played. usually you go with your friends, but lately you’ve been asking jungwon to go on one with you since your friends sometimes bring their partners along and you also wanted to experience that. still he needed to remind you he couldn’t just attend a concert as he pleased but that din’t make you give up. yours and jungwons favorite artist was gonna have this concert in seoul, so obviously you wouldn’t miss it for the world and you literally begged won for days to come along which he ended up giving in. you both were in high places in the venue, since those were always less booked and you could be a little more private. the concert started and you both couldn’t contain your joy as you sang along. then a song that you both consider you guys’ song started playing. jungwon pulled you to his side as his arms embraced you and you started swinging along to the song, you back against his chest. you rested your head against his shoulder as you looked up at him. he looked down at you and pulled down both of your masks as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring if anyone even saw, it felt surreal to him.
NISHIMURA RIKI ! - understand by keshi 
niki had invited you to come watch him dance in the studio at the hybe building. visits like this happened often, since he loved having your presence as he danced, saying, in his words, “you were his muse”. you also didn’t mind watching him, your chest always swells with pride and you watch as he gets better and better each time you, which you thought was impossible since he is already perfect in your eyes. niki has a tendency to be hard on himself, which ends up with you comforting him each time he gets angry at himself for thinking he is not good enough. it makes your heart break knowing he can’t see himself through your eyes, you wish he could see how flawless he looks in your eyes. you watched as niki danced, feeling the loud bass from the music vibrating in your chest. you loved when he could turn a simple studio into a huge stage and he owned it all. the song came to an end and niki did a playful bow as you clapped happily at him. other songs from his playlist started playing and understand by keshi played through. niki extended his hand to you “would you give me the honor to have this dance, m’lady?” you laughed at his choice of words but took his hand. he started swaying you through the studio, turning and twisting you, stopping as he put a hand on your back and swung you down. you stared in his eyes laughing at his playful gesture and placed a peck on his lips making him smile at you.
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mikobeautifulheart · 26 days
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megumi headcannons?! :3
Why hello there, i've been waiting.
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Bf Megumi head cannons
Tehehe
He defiantly uses you to charge his social and emotional battery.
"Are you okay?"
AND HE'LL PUT HIS HEAD IN YOUR NECK AND JUST SIGH.
"yeah just tiered."
Before you dated he definitely couldn't help but try talk you you.
You turn to walk out the class room while talking to Nobora when something falls out your bag.
He sees and picks it up but just holds it.
"Uh wait Y/N"
"Yeah" you turn around looking at him with doe eyes, just stopping to listen to him made his heart thump out of his chest.
"Uh-um you dropped this..." He holds his arm out toward you.
When you just smile and take the object smiling at him.
Everyone can tell when he's flustered prior to him even knowing he liked you.
"Hey Megumi, are you busy on Friday? Yuji and Nobora cancelled on me for the movies just to GO SPY ON GOJO." You asked glaring at Yuji and Nobora trying to make them feel bad.
Yuji and Nobora are covering their mouth with their hands trying not to laugh at the sudden redness of Megumi's face.
"Sure..."
Lets you play with his demon dogs when he's reading on the side of the training field.
Buys books he thinks you'll enjoy and read them too.
Has a playlist that he plays when you guys are slowly falling to sleep in his dorm.
Likes to watch you when you watch movies. The lights flickering and illuminating features on your face captervates him.
You never really notice but you lean into his side while your watching the movie and he feels his stomach turn.
He wasn't following the movie plot but he was following your eyes. He sees as they dart to the other side of the screen which is when he makes his move.
When your biting your lip at the gripping scene of the movie he leans his head down and presses his lips to your cheek.
You blink for a second before looking up and seeing that he's back to watching the movie.
Thank YOU for reading ♥️
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AUTHOURS NOTE: Teheh i mean some of it is a bit random but I kinda pulled it together in the end. Somebody love me. Have a good wahtevertime of day.
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changetyre · 2 months
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Your Man II Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ⓈⒽ
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SUMMARY: Your country-loving boyfriend loves to serenade you with his favorite songs more often than not...today is one of those days where he just goes the little extra mile.
WARNINGS: almost smut but mostly fluff
A/N: I'm having a block with writing smut but I was listening to my country playlist and this song came on which inspired me to write this. I also really enjoy writing stories along with songs so if you enjoyed please let me know cause I have a list of songs I've been wanting to write a story with.
You sat in your home back in Australia, having stayed back at the ranch this time you sat peacefully in the living room admiring the way the darkness began to cover the vast land Daniel had purchased with time.
The quiet times you had were few after falling in love with a man like Daniel Ricciardo who was all loud and energetic 100% of the time although you wouldn't complain since there was never a dull day around you.
It almost felt wrong sitting in silence for so long and being able to read more than a few pages of your book without being interrupted by a loud cry of attention or simply your man jumping on you for some cuddles.
Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand
You yelped in fear as the speaker system around the house blasted the song. You looked around your heart beating out of your chest trying to figure out what was going on.
I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling quite this strong
You placed a hand to your chest in relief as you saw your boyfriend walk through the front door singing along, a proud smirk on his face as he approached you.
You simply began laughing too used to your boyfriend's antics and serenades and despite knowing he should've been back in a few days it didn't surprise you that he found a way to get back to you earlier.
Daniel approached you on the couch leaning his body over you as he sang the next words.
I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man
Your smile was wider than ever, a common occurrence around him as he closed the gap locking his lips with yours.
There's no hurry, don't you worry We can take our time
Daniel missed signing the last 2 lines but after picking you up in his arms, resting his hands on your ass while you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist he didn't dare to miss the next.
Come a little closer, let's go over What I had in mind
"Ooo and what was that?" You smiled down at your boyfriend brushing your nose with his.
Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow
He answered along with the song making you laugh again as he carried you towards your room.
Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand
He wiggled his eyebrows with the last few lines as you bit your lip in excitement. Happiness radiated off you both.
You arrived in your bedroom, the music still clear as ever as your boyfriend had done an incredible job at putting a speaker in every single room in this house, music being a huge part of his personality.
He laid you down on your bed as he hovered over you.
I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling quite this strong
He kissed your neck lovingly.
I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man
He sang this time more quietly to your ear, making you whine in anticipation as the familiar tingles spread across your entire body.
He kissed you again this time more deeply as he let his hands roam your body. Although they came to cup your face.
Ain't nobody ever love nobody The way that I love you We're alone now You don't know how long I've wanted to
His smile was as bright as yours.
"I love you." You whispered to him letting him sing to you.
Lock the door and turn the lights down low And put some music on that's soft and slow Baby, we ain't got no place to go I hope you understand
He took your (his) shirt off you gently as he continued singing, but missed a few words as he began kissing down your chest, leaving a trail down your body. He sat up quickly stripping his own shirt off himself and letting you admire his body.
I've been thinking 'bout this all day long Never felt a feeling that was quite this strong I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man
He was able to sing along as he stripped his jeans off, followed by his boxers. You were so glad you'd worn nothing under your pajama shorts today as he was able to simply move them to the side and align himself with you.
I can't believe how much it turns me on Just to be your man
He finished singing just as he pushed into you. Ecstasy.
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amakumos · 1 year
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kiss and cry — yang jungwon.
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synopsis. At the age of 22, Yang Jungwon wants to retire. The ice, which was what he considered his second home, does not seem as welcoming as it used to be. Figure skating is no longer fun - the sport that he devoted his entire childhood to seems more of a chore, rather than a passion. He claims that this season will be his last as a competitive figure skater - that is, until he meets you, who somehow makes him fall in love with the ice (and you) again.
genre. fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, slowburn (?), figure skating au
pairing. figure skater! jungwon x figure skater fem! reader
warnings. swearing, mentions of injury, coaching abuse and unhealthy training habits, jungwon is 22, reader is 21, and both compete for south korea. set during the 2025/2026 figure skating season. major character retirement (wait and find out)
word count. 22k
author's note. gosh. am i surprised that the most i've ever written is a figure skating fic? no, not particularly. i was watching so many of yuzuru hanyu's programs while writing this and oh god. only fanyus will understand the immense impact the beat drop into the chsq has in pyc seimei. fucking hell that's powerful. anyways, this fic is my baby and i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ^_^ here's a playlist u can listen to while reading if you'd like and feel free to lmk what u think!
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ONE. negative (goe.)
Where is home to Yang Jungwon?
Jungwon thinks that he has two.
First, he would obviously say his apartment. The plush couch, the comfort of his own bed, and sunlight peeking through the curtains in the morning – Jungwon is comfortable when he is home. 
His second home, albeit a little bit unconventional – is the ice skating rink. His blades gliding against the smooth ice, cool air hitting his face as he skates, the chatter of his training partners ringing in his ears when he’s trying to focus that he finds annoying when he’s trying to focus. 
But his second home seems a little less welcoming and comfortable lately. The passion that he once held for the sport that he loved seems to be diminishing day by day, like a fire that’s almost been put out. 
Jungwon devoted his entire life to this sport. Maybe a little too much of it, even. 
His childhood was seemingly swept away by the ice. Instead of running around the playground, making friends with other children his age, Jungwon was spending hours of his day jumping and spinning, wearing boots with blades on them.
At one point, even falling over on a jump that he’d have to repeat for hours seemed like something he could use as determination. I’ll be able to do it the next time I jump it, was his thought. 
But now, when he falls, all he feels is that he wants to quit. 
Jungwon knows that if he gave up that easily when he was younger, he wouldn’t even be half the figure skater he was today. Standing on top of that podium didn’t bring him the same amount of joy as when he stood there a couple years ago. A small smile would grace his lips, showing courtesy – but deep inside, Jungwon could only describe the feeling he felt as numbness. 
Because what did all these medals truly mean to him? Success brought him joy a couple years ago, but now it only puts pressure on him. 
Pressure to do better. Pressure to get the scores that he deserved. Pressure to show the other skaters that he was better. 
Figure skating is no longer fun for Yang Jungwon. 
The sport feels draining – as if every minute spent skating on that sheet of ice sucked all the energy out of him. The movements that he did with such vigour just a couple years ago now seem sloppy to him, even if they aren’t to the audience. His limbs move around robotically, without elegance or gracefulness. 
Yang Jungwon feels like a robot. 
Programmed to do this quad lutz at a certain moment. Programmed to execute the hydroblade to perfection a few seconds later. Even programmed to smile brightly, holding up the gold medal while standing at the top of the podium when he doesn’t feel a single emotion at all. 
So, Jungwon thinks it’s time to hang up his skates. 
Yes, 22 might be a little too early to end his career as a competitive figure skater, but Jungwon is done. He’s tired of the ice, which is something that he never thought he’d say, or even think. The ice doesn’t bring him joy, and competitions don’t bring the adrenaline and thrill that he’d used to feel. Winning doesn’t make him feel pride. Instead, he feels burdened. 
“Next season will be my last season as a competitive figure skater,” he tells his coach, Irene. 
Irene isn’t shocked. But she’s strongly against Jungwon’s decision. Jungwon knew she’d react like this. 
“You’re so young, Jungwon! You still have a couple of years to go – you can make it to the next Olympics too. You’ll be 26 then, and you can… you know, retire after skating at the biggest stage.” 
“I will be skating at the biggest stage next year, if I make it into the Olympic team. Then, I will be retiring at the biggest stage.” Jungwon tells her, lacing up his skates. Even tying the laces feels frustrating – and Jungwon knows that he truly does not want to do this anymore. 
“But you have to give a reason, Jungwon. I know you’re tired, and you lack passion for skating, but why don’t you just take a break? Maybe you’ll regain your motivation, regain your passion for the sport. You’re already one of the greats – you could be even greater.” 
Irene would consider Jungwon to be her star pupil. He’s stuck with her ever since he swapped coaches when he was 8 – and he’s never spoken a word about wanting to be coached by anyone else. In fact, Jungwon was one of Irene’s first students after she herself retired from competition. Jungwon was her first student to podium internationally, first student to land a quad in competition, and first student to make it to the Olympics in 2022, back when Jungwon was 18. 
He placed 6th. Not bad, for his first ever Olympics. 
Jungwon remembers the day when he was called up to the South Korean Olympic team. All he felt was pride. On every young athlete’s bucket list, being able to compete in the Olympics was at the top of that list, and Jungwon was no exception. He remembers being an emotional wreck, crumpling into tears of joy. The Olympics was a figure skater’s biggest stage. Skating on Olympic ice seemed unreal, until Jungwon found out that he would be doing exactly that. 
Jungwon wants to feel the exact feeling he felt when he skated on Olympic ice. He wants to feel pride, passion, and joy – not emptiness. Jungwon knew that he was competing with the best of the best, and a medal at the Olympics would be incredible, but Jungwon just wanted to skate. The Olympics seemed to be like a mark for him – he’s made it. He’s skated at the biggest stage for an athlete, and no matter the result, he would be grateful and happy that he was able to compete on Olympic ice. 
4 years ago, Jungwon just wanted to skate. 
Now, Jungwon wants to leave the ice behind. 
You could be even greater. Irene’s words have no impact on Jungwon. He doesn’t think he has any desire to become greater. If anything, Jungwon just wants to learn how to love this sport again – but he doesn’t think that he’ll be able to. 
“That’s the problem, Irene. I don’t want to be greater anymore. I’m tired of this. I have no passion in what I do – why would I continue doing something that I don’t love?” 
“Jungwon–”
“I don’t think anything can change my mind, Irene. I’m really done,” he sighs. Jungwon gives his coach a small, sad smile. “So… let’s make the next season great, hmm? I’ll go out with a bang.” 
Irene gives Jungwon a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay.” 
“I have music ideas already,” Jungwon says, and Irene nods. “Tell me what you have in mind, and we can go through it with Taemin.”
“I was thinking for the short program, A Walk In The Skies by Joe Hisaishi. From the Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack, and for the free, World Dreams. Also by Joe Hisaishi. A couple fans from a few years back told me that they’d like to see me skate to those songs, so… I’ve decided I will. They gave me a list of other options, but… I like these two the best.” 
“Okay. I’ll talk with Taemin about them.” Irene says, and Jungwon notices the look on his coach’s face. He knows that she’s not happy with his decision, because Irene’s never really liked people who give up. Jungwon thinks that to her, his decision seems to be as if he’s saying that he’s giving up. 
In one way, he is. But now that Jungwon thinks about it, does he have any other goals in this sport? He’s won Nationals. He’s won Grand Prix Final. He’s won Four Continents. He’s won Worlds. He’s been to the Olympics. The one thing he hasn’t done is win an Olympic medal, and maybe he’ll be able to do it next season. But Jungwon thinks that he’s checked off most of the boxes on his figure skating career goal list, and combined with the fact that he’s simply got no love for the sport left, he thinks hanging up his skates is the best idea. 
He gives Irene an apologetic look, even though he feels like he doesn’t really have to apologise for anything. He then makes his way onto the rink, skating a few laps around to warm up. 
He skates his program from last season as practice, first jumping a quad salchow that he lands cleanly. The sound of the blades scratching the surface of the ice no longer brings him comfort, but Jungwon continues skating around the rink as he enters into a back counter triple axel, landing it cleanly as well. 
Jungwon executes the rest of the elements well, with no falls or underrotations on his jumps. He presses his lips into a thin line when he finishes skating his program, putting his hands on his hips as he sighs. 
“That was good.” Irene said. “Gold medal worthy.” 
“Thanks.” Jungwon replies. He would usually feel nothing but joy when Irene would compliment his skating like that. 
But Jungwon finds that a gold medal is something he does not desire anymore. 
TWO. triple double camel spin axel 
The off-season is great. 
The pressure of competition is gone, and you’re able to rest without intense preparation and training for a couple weeks before you’re back to your usual routine. 
You do decide to head to the rink today though, just so you can get in some skating time with your new coach. 
Irene Bae was your idol growing up. When you saw her skate at the Olympics from the comfort of your own home at the age of 4, you knew that you wanted to be like her. Graceful and elegant, yet powerful and strong on the ice.
Your parents enrolled you in skating classes at the age of 3, and it was like the ice was practically calling your name. Your first coach, Hyuna, had told your parents that you had talent — and encouraged them to let you continue skating. 
And so you did. As the years went by, what your first coach said proved to be true — you did have talent. You won medal after medal, and you were said to be a rising star. 
So when the opportunity arose for you to be coached by none other than your idol, you of course had to take it. 
When she complimented you on your skating, you nearly screamed. Having the person you’ve admired for your whole life telling you that you were doing great gave you a huge confidence boost — and you’d like to think that her words encouraged you and made you do even better than you usually did during your free skate at Worlds.
Being coached by the Irene Bae seemed surreal. She won one silver, one bronze medal at the Olympics, was a 2 time worlds winner and a six-time national champion. She was even known for being an incredible coach, coaching skaters like Yang Jungwon, and Kim Jiwon — who would now be your training mates.
You feel nothing but excitement when you enter the Taereung International Skating Rink, and you hear the sound of blades across ice that brings a smile to your lips. You see Irene, standing rinkside with her arms crossed, and skating on the rink, is Yang Jungwon.
Yang Jungwon’s made quite a name for himself in the last few years. 6th at the 2022 Olympics, a great finish for someone who was only 18 at the time. He also just won Worlds, and was a five-time national champion. 
Yang Jungwon is an incredible skater. His movements on the ice are as fluid and soft as water, but when he jumps, he’s incredibly powerful, like a rocket taking off. You’ve seen many people say that Jungwon’s one of the few ‘complete skaters’ — those who can combine artistry with jumping seem to be extremely rare nowadays. 
He’s one of those skaters that can get you mesmerised the second he steps onto the ice, and when he finishes his program, loud applause resounds throughout the arena, with tons of people throwing cat plushies onto the ice.
Jungwon is incredibly talented. Thinking about the fact that you two are going to be training mates brings a smile to your face — all the conversations you’ve had with Jungwon went quite well. You remember his pleasant voice and his kind smile, the one where his eyes crinkle into crescents and could make anyone swoon. 
You make your way over to Irene, who turns her head and greets you with a kind smile when she sees you. “(Name)!” she beams, wrapping you in a hug. “Nice to see you.” 
“It’s nice to see you too, Irene!” you say, and she smiles at you. “I’m excited to be working with you.” she tells you, and her words just fill you up with joy.
“Thank you so much,” you beam. “I’m excited to be coached by you.” A smile graces Irene’s lips at your words. “Jungwon’s on the ice right now, with Taemin. He’s just learning the last part of his choreography for his short program for next season.” she tells you, and you nod.
“Jiwon’s gone for lunch break, and Eunchae and Jongseob should be somewhere around here… you can go meet with them and say hi later.” 
“Sounds good.” 
“Irene!” Taemin, the choreographer, calls out to her. “Jungwon’s got this. He’ll absolutely kill it.” 
You notice how Irene and Taemin’s smiles seem wider than Jungwon’s when Taemin says that. The smile plastered on Jungwon’s lips barely reaches his eyes. 
“Why don’t you go lace up your skates? You and Jungwon can share the rink.” Irene suggests to you, and you nod. You find a seat, pulling out your skates from your skate bag as you take your regular sports shoes off, slipping into your skating boots. You tie the laces incredibly quickly — after all, you have been doing this for years.
You take off your skate guards, leaving them on the bench as you skate onto the rink, skating laps to warm yourself up as you put your gloves on. 
Somewhere along the way, you find yourself accompanied by Jungwon, who catches up to you. “Hey,” he says. “Heard that Irene’s coaching you now.” 
“Yeah,” you beam. “We’ll be training mates from now on, huh?” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Saw you practicing your short program for next season… you’ve started quite early. Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack?” 
“Mhm,” Jungwon says. “I like to get started earlier, so I’m more familiar with it when it’s time to compete. Do you have any ideas for the music you might skate to?” 
“Oh, I’ve got no idea. My friend told me to skate to Bolero, though.” you say, and you see Jungwon grimace at your words. You let out a loud laugh that makes Jungwon chuckle. “Bolero? Really?” he asks.
“Riki knows nothing about figure skating, but I think he goes on Twitter to find what music people hate seeing skaters skate to the most… Bolero is definitely one of them, which is probably why he recommended it to me.” you laugh. “Once he even asked me if I could do a ‘triple double camel spin axel’. Like what in the world is that?” 
Your words make Jungwon burst into laughter, and you think it’s one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard.
“A triple double camel spin axel? Your friend might just have invented a new jump.” he quips, and you nod. “Are you ready for the Olympics next year?” he asks you, and you shake your head.
“Who says I’ll make it?” 
“Of course you’ll make it. Your skating’s great.” Jungwon says, and you thank him. “You’ll definitely make it. To next year and the one after. You’ll probably make it to the one in 2034 too.” 
“Hah, that’s funny. But no, I won’t be making it to the 2030 or the 2034 one. It’s probably nice to think about, though.” Jungwon replies. 
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why? I mean... maybe 2034 is a bit of a stretch, but surely the 2030 one.” 
“I’m retiring after this season.” 
Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at his words. Yang Jungwon was going to retire? At the age of 22? Was he joking? 
You almost can’t believe it.
“What? Why?” 
“I don’t like skating anymore.” he hums, and he says it so casually. “It’s more of a chore now, rather than something I love. I guess I fell out of love with the ice.”
You can somewhat understand how he feels. You had burnout too, but you never got to the point where you wanted to quit. You just wanted to take a break, to refresh your mind and to take care of your health and body. 
But Jungwon sounds like he’s determined to quit. As if nothing will get him to change his mind.
“What would it take for you to fall back in love with it?” you ask.
Jungwon shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think anything would be able to change my mind at this point. Skating is just so incredibly… draining. I want to enjoy it as much as I used to, but I just don’t think I can continue competing.” 
He sounds like he’s truly given up hope on finding love for the sport again, and it makes your heart ache. Yang Jungwon is undoubtedly one of the best figure skaters you’ve ever seen, and to see him possibly end his career because he just simply ran out of love for the sport saddens you. 
And for some reason, you want to try and get him to fall back in love with the ice again. 
So with a sudden burst of confidence and determination, you decide to ask him: “Are you free any time next week?” 
Jungwon looks at you, puzzled. “Yes?”
“I’m going to try and get you to fall back in love with the ice.”
“(Name), I’ve made up my mind—” 
“That’s fine. I just want you to enjoy skating again. No competition, just having fun. You know, I was in the audience the day you won the Grand Prix final two years ago. You looked so, so, incredibly happy — I want you to feel the same feeling you felt when you were skating on that ice.” 
Jungwon looks at you hesitantly. “You’d do that for me?” 
You nod. “We can get to know each other better too. What do you say?” 
Jungwon pauses for a moment to think. 
“Sure.”
You beam at him. “Cool. I’ll give you my number after practice and we can make arrangements.” 
Jungwon nods, and you two end your conversation there, focusing on training instead. 
As you land a clean triple salchow-triple toeloop on the ice, you add a new goal to your bucket list.
Get Yang Jungwon to fall in love with figure skating again.
THREE. seal skating aid
You meet up with Jungwon two days later at a public skating rink with a bright smile on your face. 
He looks confused when he sees the amount of people who have come to the rink today. “How are we supposed to skate with this many people here?” 
You smile, lacing up your skates. “We can still skate. We just can’t jump.” 
Jungwon looks hesitantly at you. “But skating laps is boring,” he says. “How am I going to fall back in love with skating like this?” 
“Because,” you say. “This was how you first fell in love with it as a kid. You didn’t know how to jump, how to spin, or how to do spirals. Sometimes doing simple things, such as just skating around the rink can be fun. There’s no pressure of needing to execute certain elements properly — look at everyone skating here today. They’re just here to have fun.” 
Jungwon looks at the people skating on the rink. There’s a bunch of couples, holding hands as they enjoy their date. There’s also lots of kids taking classes, learning how to balance on their skates just like he did when he was younger. There’s also two or three people who do seem like they’re good skaters, and Jungwon spots one of them doing a Biellmann spin right in the middle of the rink. 
And you are right. This was what the first rink Jungwon stepped on looked like. The rink he skated on wasn’t as busy as this, but sure enough, there were couples, kids that were learning to skate, and people like the girl doing the Biellmann spin was what made him think that he wanted to be able to do something like that. 
You motion for Jungwon to join you as you step onto the ice, and he does. You two skate around the rink slowly — much slower than Jungwon is used to. He sees a couple of young kids who seemingly recognise you and him, pointing you two out to their friends.
“You’re famous,” he says, chuckling. “You’re more famous, Mr Placed 6th In The Olympics.” you reply, and he shakes his head. 
“It’s still 6th. Not a podium finish.” he says, and you sigh. “6th is crazy good for an 18 year old. Plus, you were competing with the greatest of the greats.” 
“That’s true, I suppose.” Jungwon muses. “I’ll just do better this year. Might as well go out with a bang, hmm?” 
“I guess so.” you say. 
Jungwon looks around him, seeing little kids who are seemingly learning how to skate for the first time struggle with their balance. He discreetly motions for them to put their arms out and bend their knees, to which they do. They seem to balance a lot better, and Jungwon gives them a soft smile.
Those kids remind him of himself when he was first learning how to skate. A helmet perched on his head with his knee and elbow guards on, and rental skates that Jungwon would never even dare to wear now. He ran onto the ice, falling over — then getting back up. Falling over, then getting back up.
When it comes to skating, Jungwon now feels like he’s fallen. And he can’t seem to just muster the strength to get himself back up. 
Perhaps you will be able to get him to ignite the passion that he had for figure skating once again, but there’s a chance that it won’t happen. 
Jungwon realised that it hurts to fall out of love with the very thing you sacrificed your entire life for. His childhood was spent at the rink, doing the one thing he knew best — skating. Now that he realises his passion for the sport has crumbled away, all he can ask himself is: was it worth it?
Jungwon wants to say yes. But he isn't quite sure if he believes that now, considering that the ice no longer feels like home.
“You’re thinking a lot.” you hum, and Jungwon nods. “I was just thinking about… how I started.
You motion for him to go on.
“I used to love skating. I loved it more than anything,” Jungwon says, staring at the ice. He once said that the boots on his feet somehow felt molded to his body, since he wore them so much. But now, these exact boots are uncomfortable — they are suffocating, and Jungwon knows that when he's under the pressure of competition, he’ll want nothing more than to take them off. “But now, I just feel emptiness. And I’m just thinking… what could’ve gone wrong?”
“I don’t think anything went wrong,” you reply. “I think you pushed too hard. Like you said, you devoted your entire life to this sport. Even the brightest of flames burn out. You just have to find the thing that’ll be able to light it back up again.” 
“That’s poetic.” Jungwon says. “Being a poet was my backup career option, if this whole… skating on knife boots thing didn’t work out.” you quip, and Jungwon cracks a smile.
“This conversation got deep,” Jungwon says. “Sorry for bringing the mood down. I know we’re here to have fun.” he says, and you shrug. “It’s alright. Maybe letting out your feelings about it will help too,” you say. 
“Maybe,” Jungwon says. “But I think I’ve been thinking about them too much lately. I need to try and rid myself of these emotions, because I’ll just end up overthinking and I’ll end up spiralling.” 
You nod. “That’s fair.”
You then spot a seal shaped skating aid, and you look at Jungwon with a twinkle in your eye. You skate a little faster to get to it, and you bring it back to where Jungwon’s standing, and you motion for him to sit down.
“What?” Jungwon asks, confused.
“Sit down!” you beam. “I’ll push you around the rink.” 
Jungwon reluctantly sits down, burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment. He feels like he’s 4 years old, with his sister pushing him around the rink. But he also remembers how fun it was, the cool air hitting his face as loud music played from the speakers in the rink. Christmas music, Jungwon remembered it being.
“I’m gonna push you now,” you say, and Jungwon nods. You start skating, and you begin to skate faster — your blades scratch across the surface of the ice as a small smile begins to make its way across Jungwon’s lips.
Jungwon never thought skating laps could be so… fun. It’s like he forgot this feeling — skating with no jumps, no spins, no spirals. Just moving forward. It was so simple.
Simple is fun, Jungwon realises.
Simply skating forwards seems more exciting than the intricate movements he has to make. He doesn’t need to worry about possibly falling on a quad, he doesn’t need to worry about underrotating a jump, or getting an edge call — he can just skate. 
“Wait,” Jungwon suddenly says, and then you stop.
“Let me push you,” he says, getting up. You nod, plopping yourself down onto the seat as Jungwon grips the handle on the skating aid, which is shaped like a seal’s tail.
Jungwon starts skating, pushing the skating aid forward. He skates around the rink, moving faster with each lap he makes, and you put your hands up as if you’re riding a rollercoaster.
“This is fun, isn’t it?” you ask.
Yes, Jungwon thinks. This is quite fun. 
Despite just skating laps in a public skating rink, Jungwon thinks this might be the most fun he’s had on the rink in the last year.
FOUR. one ice show, two realisations
You see Jungwon two days later at the rink. 
He waves at you from the ice, taking a sip from his water bottle. His phone pings with a message, and he picks it up to view the text.
His fingers fly over the screen as he types a response while you lace up your skates. “Who’s texting?” you ask, skating onto the rink.
“Oh, just Yuzu.” 
“You’re talking about two-time Olympic gold medalist Yuzuru Hanyu?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah. We’re friends.” he says, placing his phone back onto the bench. 
“What’d he say?” you ask — you don’t mean to be nosy, but Jungwon seems more than comfortable with telling you what the Japanese figure skater had texted him about. “Fantasy on Ice,” Jungwon replies. “The organisers wanted to reach out to me and ask me to join them on the tour, so he probably texted to give me a heads up.” 
“You should definitely do it, Jungwon!” you smile, and Jungwon purses his lips. “I don’t know.” he says, and he seems hesitant to accept Yuzuru’s offer.
You cross your arms. “Remember, it’s not a competition. Ice shows are meant to be fun. It doesn’t matter if the performance isn’t perfect — as long as you're having fun, and the audience is having fun, then that’s all that matters.” 
“Right.” he gulps. “I just haven’t done an ice show in a while.” 
“It’ll be a good experience to have, Jungwon. You can get rid of the pressure to prepare everything for next season and just enjoy skating, and you can go make new friends too.” you say, and Jungwon seems to consider it.
“I only have one gala program prepared.”
“Choreograph a new one.”
“Taemin’s busy.” 
“You don’t have to ask Taemin. Choreograph one yourself.” you suggest, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to do that.” 
“Jungwon, you’re an artist. You can come up with something.”
“It’ll be bad.” 
“Have some confidence in yourself,” you say, patting his shoulder. “You won’t know if you’re good or bad at it until you try, right?” 
Jungwon gulps again. “Right.” 
“So are you going to take up Hanyu’s offer?” 
Jungwon shrugs. “Maybe.” 
“Make that maybe a yes,” you say. “Really, skating in an ice show might help you enjoy skating again. Trust me. The crowd hypes you up, the skaters are all supportive, and it’s just a really nice environment to be in.”
Jungwon ponders the idea for a moment. Maybe he should really do this ice show. He hasn’t performed in a non-competition capacity in a while, excluding the galas after competitions. Now that he thinks about it, it seems nice to skate without the pressure of competition.
But the little voice in his head tells him that he absolutely needs to work on his programs next season. He wants to go out with a bang — he can’t do that if he’s underprepared.
Then your voice rings in his head. Fuck it, he hears you say.
A few shows can’t possibly hinder his performance that much. And it’s not like he won’t get any practice time in, and he’s already learnt the choreography for both programs… so it shouldn’t be a problem… right? 
Jungwon wants to love skating again. 
Maybe an ice show is the second step out of many in his quest to possibly find his love for skating again.
“Okay.” he says, picking up his phone. He moves his thumb over Yuzuru’s contact, typing an ‘I’d be interested’ before sending it without hesitation. You look pleasantly surprised, a smile on your lips as he places down his phone before looking at you.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up into a small grin. 
“Nothing,” you say, looking down at your skates. “I’m just happy you’re trying to regain your passion for this sport.”
Jungwon hums. “Yes. I hope I will be able to.” 
“I hope you can too.” you say. “This ice show might help you change your mind.” 
“I just wanted to ask you — why did you offer to help me try and love the ice again?” he asks, and you purse your lips. 
This conversation is not an easy one to have, you think. 
“I guess it’s because I’ve been through something similar,” you start. “There’s a whole backstory to this, so I might as well tell you. I was 13 when I started being coached by Seo Minju.”
When you brought up Seo Minju, Jungwon knew that what you were about to say was not going to be pleasant at all. A couple of friends Jungwon had were also coached by Seo Minju, and had ended up getting multiple injuries — and some even had to retire early. 
“I trained… way too much, to say the least. More than you do now. I was breaking my body and my mind from the inside out, training even though I was — excuse my language — fucking exhausted. There was a point where in the middle of JGP Courchevel, I felt like I’d black out after I did a triple axel.” you say, and pressing your lips together in a thin line as you relive the memories that you’ve always wanted to forget. 
“And I was in so much pain. I don’t know how I still trained with that much pain — I guess it was Seo who tried to make me keep going. Then one day… I just fractured my ankle,” you gulp, as Jungwon looks at you with his eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes seem to be watery. 
“The doctors said my career could have ended. That was the most terrifying thing to hear as a 14 year old kid. I had to rest, heal, and I couldn’t be on the ice for months. I swapped coaches, almost immediately after I got the diagnosis. And when I was told that I could go back onto the ice again, I was fucking terrified. I was scared that one wrong move would end my entire career for good.”
You sigh. “It took me months to heal. I still loved the ice — but my fear of it seemed stronger than my love for it. I had to relearn new techniques, get back my triples… that’s why I disappeared for a whole season. And when I managed to become comfortable with the ice again, I kind of just started thinking in a different perspective. I guess I kind of just want you to maybe think of the sport differently than the way you see it now. Because at the end of the day, when we decided to start, it was because we loved it, right?” 
Jungwon finds that a tear trickles down his cheek after you finish speaking. “Don’t cry,” you say, a frown on your face. “I’m okay now.” 
“I’m so sorry.” he says, and you smile. “It’s okay. I just kind of always have to remember to take more care of this ankle right here,” you say, pointing to your right ankle. “My problem child.” you quip, trying to lighten the mood.
Jungwon’s only gotten to know you better in the past few weeks, but he thinks that you’re the most incredible and most admirable person he’s ever met. And the fact that you would go out of your way to try and help him enjoy skating again — it makes warmth bloom across Jungwon’s chest and fills him with nothing but happiness. 
He thinks he’ll be eternally grateful for you.
“Come here,” he says, arms held out to pull you in a hug. You skate closer to him, and he wraps his arms around you, and you do the same, wrapping your arms around him.. Jungwon’s hugs are comforting, and you feel nothing but warmth despite you both standing in the middle of an ice skating rink.
He smells like fresh linen, you realise.
You also realise that you don’t really want to let go.
FIVE. spiralling 
You receive a message from the Fantasy On Ice organisers a few days later as well, asking if you’d like to join them on tour.
Of course you say yes.
Jungwon seems more cheerful lately. His mood dampens a little bit when he’s on the ice, but it seems barely noticeable to Jiwon and Jongseob — maybe you're just extra attentive when it comes to him.
Jungwon will admit that he is feeling a little bit better. Skating to a program that he knows he doesn’t have to compete with is freeing, fun even. But the little devil on his shoulder keeps pestering him, telling him that he has to focus on next season’s programs.  
Jungwon tells the devil to fuck off.
He heads back to his apartment, the weight on his shoulders slightly less heavy than it was a couple weeks ago. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might get to love skating again.
When he opens the door, he’s surprised by his cousin, Wonyoung, who stands in front of the door with balloons in her hands. “Congrats on your Worlds win!” 
She pulls Jungwon in for a hug. “You’re two weeks late, Wonyo.” he jokes, and Wonyoung scoffs. “I texted you, because I was in Paris and I couldn’t come watch you.”
“I know, I know.” Jungwon says, putting his skate bag away before he flops on the couch, Wonyoung sitting next to him. “How’s skating?” she asks.
“Terrible,” Jungwon responds. “Well, not entirely. But 90% terrible.” 
Wonyoung looks surprised. “What? You just won a major competition though.”
“Yeah. I guess. But it’s not exactly fun anymore,” Jungwon sighs, and Wonyoung frowns. “I feel way too much pressure to be perfect. Every day of my life, it’s just training, training, training — I feel like I know nothing outside of figure skating.” 
Jungwon’s phone rings, and he furrows his eyebrows before pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the caller ID. It’s Jangmi, his older sister.
“Hello?” Jungwon says, putting his sister on speaker mode. 
“Why did we have to find out from Irene that you’re retiring?” Jangmi’s tone does not seem happy, and Wonyoung, who’s sitting beside him, seems shocked. 
Jungwon sits up properly, frowning at his sister’s words. “Because I didn’t think that it was any of your business at the time, and probably because I would’ve told you when I was ready?” he replies. “Why do you sound so angry?” 
“You’re like… 22. You’re way too young to retire.” 
“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, Jangmi.” Jungwon says, sighing. 
“Why are you even retiring anyways? It’s not like you’re injured or anything.” she says, and Jungwon frowns. “I just don’t love the sport anymore, Jangmi. I should be able to retire when I want to, and I think that I want to.” 
“All because you don’t love the sport? You’re throwing away all those years of your training because you don’t love it anymore? You’re just finding an excuse to quit, Jungwon — and you know our family doesn’t like quitters.”
Jangmi’s words make Jungwon fume. He’s furious, and Wonyoung can tell from the way his expression immediately changes from frustration to one of pure anger. 
“You would never understand, Jangmi. I sacrificed my entire childhood for this sport and I wish I fucking knew why I fell out of love with it but I just don’t know why, okay? I wish I could just suddenly start fucking love skating like I did when I was 4, but that’s not possible! I’ve gotten to the point where I simply just cannot continue because I’m not going to spend my days being miserable doing something that I don’t love.” Jungwon’s hands tremble as he holds his phone, tears welling in his eyes and Wonyoung pats his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him — it does not seem to work at all.
“Do your medals and titles really mean nothing to you? Do they not give you motivation to keep going? You’re literally Yang Jungwon, Olympian, 2025 World Champion, and a 5 time national champion!”
“They seem to mean more to you than they do to me.” Jungwon says.
“Jungwon, you can’t give up.”
“But I can.” 
“Jungwon—”
“Jangmi, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. Call me when you can accept my decision.” Jungwon says, before hanging up. He sighs, leaning his head back on the headrest of his couch.
He blinks away the tears in his eyes, and he lets out a loud sigh.
“Are you okay?” Wonyoung asks, even if she knows that her cousin is anything but okay.
“I’ll manage.” Jungwon replies, and Wonyoung gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Jungwon gives her a stiff smile. 
None of them say a word for a while, sitting in silence until Jungwon suddenly speaks up. “I just don’t know how this happened.” 
“What?” Wonyoung asks. 
“How I managed to start disliking the one thing I swore I’d love my whole life. I spent my entire life, I sacrificed my entire life just to get here… and now that I am here, I find that I suddenly hate skating. The passion I used to have seems like it just disappeared into thin air.” 
“What Jangmi said was wrong.” Wonyoung says. “It’s your career. Do whatever you want.” 
“But now that I think about it, do I really want to retire?” Jungwon lets out a sad laugh. “I was telling my friend, (Name), that I wanted to love skating again. Maybe that’s just all I want.” 
Jangmi’s phone call somehow really struck a chord within Jungwon. He knew that his sister only cared about his titles — it’s been like that since they were kids. Saying I’m figure skater Yang Jungwon’s sister somehow gave her an automatic “cool” pass. Then it became national champion Yang Jungwon. Then, Olympian Yang Jungwon.
Figure skating is all Jungwon’s ever known. Saying that he wants to retire seems easy enough when he knows he hates what he does. But when his last competition rolls around, Jungwon knows that leaving the ice might be the most difficult thing he’s had to do, ever.
Jungwon might hate the sport he’s sacrificed his life for, but what he hates more is that he allowed himself to start hating it.
SIX. rental skates
After a few weeks of practising your gala performance and a little bit of your programs for next season, you and Jungwon are headed to Japan for Fantasy On Ice.
Jungwon hasn’t exactly been in the best mood lately. You’ve tried to cheer him up, and it works sometimes, but he still looks exhausted and tired of it whenever he steps on the ice.
You hope the ice show will make him feel better. Sometimes performing to an upbeat and supportive crowd can help cheer people up (at least that’s what it’s like for you.)
You’ve given him supportive comments while you’re watching him rehearse his program for the show, and you manage to get him to crack small smiles while he’s skating — you know he’ll have to take this one step at a time.
You two are seated beside each other on the plane, and Jungwon settles into his seat comfortably, headphones propped on his head over a baseball cap.
“Are you feeling okay?” you ask him, and he shrugs. “I haven’t participated in an ice show for a while. I really don’t know what to expect…. so I’m a bit worried.” he replies.
“Don’t worry. Ice shows are meant to just be for fun,” you say. “Skating is something you should enjoy with the audience.”
Your take is interesting. All his life, Jungwon has just been aiming for the medals — he never thought about how he was feeling while he skated. It was as if his mind was blank, only knowing that he had to do this certain element at this certain time. 
Because getting medals was what would bring him joy, right? 
That was what Jungwon used to think. 
“Mhm.” he replies. 
He doesn’t know why his sister’s words from weeks ago are still stuck in his mind. He goes quiet, lips downturned into a small frown that you notice. 
“How’d you start liking the sport?” you ask Jungwon, noticing his mood to seemingly be less than pleasant. Maybe your question will help him take his mind off whatever’s been bugging him.
“My sister’s birthday party. We all went to the ice rink together. I remember just running onto the ice, and I fell a couple times. There was this one learn to skate class being held during it, and I just saw other kids my age having so much fun. Then, I saw this one girl do a Biellmann, and she did some double jumps too. And I thought — how cool would it be if I could do that?” he says, and he smiles a little when he thinks about those good memories.
“What about you?” he asks, taking a sip from his water bottle as the pilot notifies everyone that they’re about to take off.
“My parents just signed me up for skating lessons. But then I ended up really loving it after my first class.” you reply, and Jungwon nods.
“Now that I think about it, classes were really fun for me when I was a kid.” Jungwon says, and you crack a small smile. “We should do a learn to skate class for jokes,” you say, and Jungwon chuckles. “The coach would definitely ask us what we’re doing there. They’d be so confused.” he replies. 
“Let’s wear rental skates.” 
“Oh, god no.” Jungwon grimaces at the thought. “I swear the blades at the rink haven’t been sharpened for years.” 
“You should try a triple in rental skates,” you joke, and Jungwon makes a face, wincing. “I can already feel the pain from that… I’d most definitely fall and injure myself.” 
“No, you’d be good, Mr 2025 World Champion.” 
“You try it, Ms 2025 Grand Prix Final winner.” 
Jungwon thinks that he feels the most comfortable when he’s around you. It takes him a bit to warm up to people, but you two had formed a close relationship practically the minute you guys became training mates. Talking to you is easy, and fun – he doesn’t think he’s had a good laugh on the rink in years, and Jungwon realises that skating is more fun when you’re around.
Goofing around on the rink, taking practices seriously but also not at the same time is something that seems new to Jungwon, at least in the last few years. So seeing you find joy in practice, which is something he hasn’t been able to do for years, makes him think that maybe he could do that too. 
You encourage him, as well, pulling him into your antics that make Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae laugh. Slowly but surely, all your training mates seem to realise that Jungwon’s loosening up – he allows himself to have fun on the rink, and he allows himself to take breaks.
During a conversation between Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae, Jiwon had mentioned that she thought that Jungwon would probably fall in love with you. 
“She seems to make him happy,” was what she said. She’s not wrong, too – everyone’s noticed the way Jungwon seems to seem livelier and happier lately. Jongseob remembers the way Jungwon seemed to be constantly stressed, eyebrows almost always knitted together in worry, and never-ending sighs escaping past his lips. 
Jungwon’s love for skating hasn’t fully returned yet, but he thinks that he’s starting to like it a little again. It’s not as draining as it was before, and perhaps it’s because you’ve taught him that above all, skating should be fun. Jungwon allows himself to have fun on the ice for the first time in a couple of years, and when he glides across the ice with not a single ounce of worrying about him needing to prove that he’s the best, all he feels is relief. 
And he would be eternally grateful for you. For teaching him how to have fun on the ice again. To let go of all the pressure that’s been on his shoulders for years, and just to enjoy the sport.
Gold medals and countless titles might have brought him fulfilment years ago. But now, he thinks that simply just skating would bring the same amount of fulfilment, if not maybe even more.
SEVEN. side by side (quad toe)
Ice show practices are fun. 
Everyone’s got a smile on their faces. The first thing Jungwon notices is how warm and welcoming everyone is. The minute he walks into the rink alongside you, he’s welcomed with a hug from Harua, a figure skater from Japan that he remembers having a few nice conversations with during competitions. 
“It’s nice to see you again!” Harua beams. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Jungwon replies, even though he saw him at Worlds just a few months ago. “I know right?” Harua says. “I’m glad you’re joining us this year, though! I remember the organisers wanted to see if you wanted to join us last year, but Irene told them you were busy.” 
Jungwon brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah, I was busy during the off-season last year. Preparing for competitions, you know… I thought I’d have a break from that and just join you guys this year.” 
“Mhm,” Harua nods, and he hears his name being called out by someone. “I think I’ve got to run along, but it was nice seeing you! It’ll be lots of fun. Nice seeing you too as well, (Name)! Let’s talk more later.” 
Harua runs off, as you give Jungwon an amused smile. “You guys seem close.” 
“We’re not super close… we’ve just talked to each other a couple times at competitions. He’s a really nice guy, though.” Jungwon says, taking his skates out of his skate bag. He looks at the rink, and there are a few skaters he recognises just warming up. 
“He does seem really nice.” you hum, sitting down next to him as you take your skates out from your bag as well.
“You ready?” he asks, standing up. You quickly finish lacing up your right boot before nodding. “Let’s go,” you say, linking arms with him as you lead him towards the rink.
You do it so casually that Jungwon needs a few seconds to process the action. He doesn’t know why his face starts feeling warm, and he doesn’t want you to let go of his arm.
The funniest thing is, the minute he thinks that, you let go, placing your hands into the pocket of your jacket.
“Hey, let’s do a side by side jump.” you suggest, and Jungwon nods. “Triple?” he asks, and you shake your head. “Nah, let’s do a quad. Quad toe?”
“Sure.” he says, and he starts skating, doing backward crossovers on the ice. “Should I count? How do pairs do this?” you say, as you skate beside him.
“Just count,” he says. 
“Okay, one, two, three.”
And you both take off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing, completely synchronised. You look at Jungwon with a huge smile on your face, giving him a high five. “Nice.” you say.
“That was good.” Jungwon says, patting you on the shoulder. “New pairs team in the making!” you two hear Jongseob joke, and Jungwon lets out a chuckle. 
You tell Jungwon that you’re going to practise your gala program for a bit, and he nods as he watches you skate off. You glide gracefully across the ice, Jungwon admiring how beautiful your jumps and spins are.
He doesn’t realise that his expression is one of awe until Harua points it out. “You look very enamoured, Jungwon.” he smirks, and Jungwon immediately snaps out of it.
“Huh… what?” he asks, almost as if he’s in a daze. He blinks a couple times, and Harua only chuckles. “Do you like (Name)?
“Of course I like (Name). She’s my friend.” he says, completely clueless to what Harua’s hinting at. “No, no, I mean like… in a romantic way.” 
A romantic way?
It might sound a little crazy, but Jungwon does not think he’s ever had a crush on someone in his 22 years of walking on this planet. Skating was his number one priority — love wasn’t anywhere on his list of priorities. In fact, Jungwon doesn’t even think he’s thought about love at all.
So Jungwon isn’t quite sure how to tell if his feelings for you are romantic or not, because he simply just doesn’t know what having a crush feels like. He knows that you linking arms with him was nice. He knows that he didn’t want you to let go of his arm.
Was that the first sign of a crush?
Jungwon truly didn’t know.
He scratches the nape of his neck awkwardly. “I don't… think so.” he replies, but it comes out sounding more like a question, and Harua only smiles at him, amused.
“Cool. Cool… tell me that next year when you two are dating.” the boy says, and Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “We’re not going to… what?”
“You seem much happier when you’re around her, you know.” Harua says, earnestly. “At Worlds, you didn’t seem very happy. You seemed tense, as if you were always burdened by something.” 
“But now, you seem like you’re feeling better. You’re smiling again.” Harua says, and Jungwon takes a few seconds to process his words. 
“She… she’s trying to get me to like skating again.” Jungwon says, and Harua lets out a knowing ‘ah’. “I guess I have started liking skating more again… because she’s helped me learn to have fun.”
“That’s good. See, your relationship is like a whole Netflix movie plot.” Harua quips.
“I really don’t see the vision you’re trying to paint in my head, Harua.” Jungwon says, and Harua shrugs. “Just think about your feelings when you’re around her. I guess if you feel like… warm, and happy when she’s around, you like her? Or if you think about her a lot. Or if you want to kiss her, I don’t know. You should Google it. Ask Google how to tell if you like someone, or something. You know it has all the answers.” 
Jungwon’s drawn to two parts of what Harua just said. One, the part being that Harua told him to ask Google how to tell if you liked someone, and two, the part where he told Jungwon to think about whether he wanted to kiss you. 
Jungwon’s not going to Google to ask for relationship advice. 
And Jungwon also doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you or not. He doesn’t even know if he likes you romantically, either. All he knows is that you make him happy. Much happier than he used to be.
But when you skate up to him with a bright smile on your face, Jungwon feels his heart beat faster than it was just a few seconds ago. And he knows it’s not because he’s tired from skating, because after all, he has been standing still while talking to Harua.
Maybe he does like you. 
Just a little bit.
EIGHT. let me entertain you
Tonight is the first show of Fantasy on Ice for this year, and you’re bursting with excitement. 
You get dressed into the costume for the opening, and you raise an eyebrow when you see the dress. It’s not… terrible, but it’s not something you’d wear at all.
You leave the dressing room, looking into the mirror as you tilt your head. You walk towards the hair and makeup area, where Jungwon’s getting his hair done.
“Do I look okay?” 
Jungwon thinks his heart skips a beat. 
The costume is... alright, but that’s the case with Fantasy On Ice costumes every year. But, you make it look really, really good. Unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips, and you take it as a good sign.
“You look great.” he says, and you smile. 
“Thank you, Won!” 
You just called him a nickname. His smile seemingly gets wider as you scurry off, being called for your own hair and makeup to be done. 
“Do you see what I mean, Jungwon?” Harua says, sitting in the chair beside him. “I really don’t.” Jungwon replies.
“You two are definitely going to fall in love. I’ve got great matchmaking skills.” Harua smirks.
“Who’s falling in love?” Yuzuru asks, overhearing Harua’s words, and Jungwon buries his face in his hands. “Jungwon! And… (Name).” Harua says your voice very quietly, in fear that you might hear him.
“Oh?” Yuzuru says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys would be cute together. Did you guys get closer recently?” 
“Mhm,” Jungwon nods. “I don’t think I'm… in love though.”
“You’re married to the ice like Yuzu, huh?” Harua quips. “I said I wanted someone who would benefit my skating or be very supportive of it.” Yuzuru replies.
“Elsa.” 
“Enough.” 
“No, but I just haven’t thought about love, you know?” Jungwon says. “Skating takes up my whole life… I don’t exactly have the time to think about it.”
“Valid.” Yuzuru hums. “But seriously, you two would actually be really cute together. Harua says he hasn’t seen you smile genuinely in years.” 
Jungwon thinks Harua might be exaggerating a little. He would smile at Harua (genuine smiles!) after he finished skating. It was just during the skate, during the Kiss and Cry, and during the podium where Jungwon would do the smile that never quite ended up reaching his eyes. 
“You’re making me sound emo!” 
“You are though?”  Harua replies, laughing. “Wait, no… not anymore.” he nods his head in the direction of where you are, and Jungwon rolls his eyes. 
“I’m not falling in love.” he says, before getting up from his chair. He hears Harua say Whatever you say! teasingly, and Jungwon just shakes his head as he makes his way over to you. 
“Hey,” he says, greeting you as the makeup artist swipes a pretty pink colour on your lips. You look up at him, waving (because you can’t exactly smile right now.) 
“Hi! You’re lucky you’ve got a puffer jacket on. Man, it’s freezing here.” you say when the makeup artist is done, shivering slightly. For someone who’s on the ice almost all the time, your tolerance to the cold isn’t exactly high — but in your defence, they did have the aircon on in the room.
“You can just take mine,” Jungwon says, unzipping it. He drapes it over your shoulders, and the action suddenly makes your cheeks start feeling hot.
You’ve heard about this feeling before, but you don’t think you’ve ever really experienced it. If those movies and books were right, you think you might just have the tiniest crush on Yang Jungwon.
You think that becoming friends with Jungwon might’ve been one of the best decisions of your life. He’s kind — always caring about you even when he’s feeling down in the dumps. He’s funny too, but he doesn’t seem to show it to anyone other than you. And, he is undeniably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen.
Him lending you his jacket just makes your heart flutter. 
“Oh, thank you.” you say, and for the first time, you find yourself at a loss for words when you’re talking to Jungwon.
“It’ll keep you warm until before the show starts.” he says, and you nod. “You ready?” you ask, and Jungwon shrugs. 
“I don’t know. I’m a bit scared. I hope I do well.” 
You take his hand, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “I know you’ll do well. And just remember that this is for fun. It’s not a competition. You’re here to have fun, you’re here to let the audience have fun.” 
“Okay.” he says, taking a deep breath. “I’ll make sure to have fun.” 
“Loosen up, Wonie.” you beam at him. “The crowd will love you, I’m sure of it.” 
You see everyone starting to line up in order of their appearance for the opening, and thankfully, you’re behind Jungwon, so you two can continue your conversation.
“I just wanted to ask.” you start, and Jungwon hums, motioning for you to continue. “Do you think you’re starting to love skating again?”
Jungwon is silent for a moment.
“A little bit. Because now I know that skating is meant to be fun, above all.” he says, and you smile.
“Cool.”
“Thank you.” Jungwon grins at you.
“For what?” you ask.
“For helping me with liking skating again. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to find my love for it again. I guess I just thought that if I trained harder and got better results, I’d be happier with my skates… but I was wrong,” he replies. “I needed to learn how to have fun again. I needed to remember why I started loving the sport in the first place.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Won.”
“No, but I do. I know I wouldn’t have done this ice show if you didn’t convince me to. And from what I can tell and the cheers I can hear, I think it’ll be a lot of fun.” he smiles. “So thank you. For pushing me to loosen up. For pushing me to learn to have fun.”
“You’re welcome, then.” you smile. The organiser tells Jungwon that he’ll be up next. “You’ll kill it out there.” you say.
“So will you.”
Jungwon thinks that deciding to join this ice show might be one of the best decisions he’s made. 
NINE. ice days
Jungwon has never felt so happy to perform.
The crowd is loud, lively and cheers him on, applause sounding throughout the arena after he lands a jump. The atmosphere makes Jungwon excited to skate on the next show.
It’s been a while since Jungwon felt excitement towards the ice.
Cheers resound throughout the arena when he finishes his program, and he finds that he doesn’t have to plaster a smile on his face — he already is smiling. A huge, genuine smile. 
He doesn’t see you until the group number at the end, and when he spots you, he skates a little faster in order to catch up with you. “Hey, Won! You did great.” you say when you notice him skating beside you on your left. 
“Thank you,” he says, a smile on his lips. “You did great too.” 
“Was it fun?” you ask, playing with the coloured scarf tied around your neck. You notice that you and Jungwon have the same exact one – they’re both orange and pink (a colour combination that you’re not quite sure you like too much.)
“Yeah. It was really fun.” 
“What’d I tell you?” you say, grinning brightly at him. “There are a lot more shows after this, so you’ll get to experience all this over and over again.” 
“I’m glad you made me do this,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun on the ice in a long, long time.” 
“That’s good. Do you think my quest to help you love the ice again is working?” you ask.
“I think it is.” 
You take his hand and squeeze it. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
Jungwon doesn’t notice the crowd seems to get louder after seeing your action. He thinks that someone must’ve done a cool trick, like Jongseob doing a backflip. 
“That’s enough, lovebirds!” Harua says, skating up to you two. “We’re about to leave the rink.” 
All the skaters skate to the centre of the rink, and Jungwon does too, with you following him. You all link hands, bowing at the audience before each of you leave the rink, one by one.
As Jungwon’s hand is in yours, you can’t stop thinking about Harua calling you two lovebirds. Obviously, you and Jungwon weren’t together, but now you can’t stop thinking that perhaps there could be a possibility, provided that you managed to figure out all the mixed feelings you had and if he reciprocated.
But strangely, something about Jungwon just makes you feel at home.
There is something so comforting about his presence. You feel at ease with Jungwon — it’s easy to talk to him, it’s easy to crack jokes when he’s around (you realised that you do it more often when he’s around just so you can see him laugh.)
It’s also easy to just sit in silence with Jungwon. Usually you’d feel compelled to fill the awkward silence, but with Jungwon, sometimes words don’t need to be shared. You feel like you’re able to understand him, and he’s able to understand you, despite only growing close during the off-season.
You’d like to think that he’s the closest friend in your circle of skater friends.
When you’re finished getting changed out of the costume and remove your makeup, you try to find Jungwon in the packed room, but to no avail. 
“Who are you looking for?” Kaori asks, and you turn around to face her. “Oh! Jungwon.” you say, and Kaori points in the direction she saw him go in. “He’s just over there, with Harua.” 
“Thanks!” you say, grinning at Kaori before heading in the direction she pointed at. Sure enough, Jungwon’s sitting there, typing away at his phone.
“Won!” you say, and he looks up, a smile immediately on his lips. “(Name)! I was waiting for you.” he says.
Your heart flutters. Harua smirks whilst trying to stifle a giggle. Jungwon shoots a pointed look at the boy.
“Oh?” you ask. “Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner before heading back to the hotel together.” he says, standing up from his chair.
“Of course!” you reply, nodding. “Cool,” he says, placing his puffer jacket into his bag. “Harua says there’s a good ramen place around here.” 
“Yeah. It’s really good. I would go with you guys but then I’d be third-wheeling.” Harua says, still seated in his chair. Your cheeks flush pink at his words, whilst Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “Why would you be third-wheeling?” 
“Oh. Just because,” Harua says, a smirk on his lips. “You guys should run along now. They close pretty soon,” he checks the time on his phone.
“Well! We should hurry then… see you tomorrow, Harua.” you say, and Jungwon waves at the skater. “Bye!” 
Have fun on your date, Harua mouths at Jungwon. Jungwon rolls his eyes in response. 
“The crowd were cheering really loud for you tonight,” you tell Jungwon. “Oh, really?” he asks — he thought they were just as loud with everybody else. 
“There were less people in the audience during the last ice show I did, but yeah. They were really loud — they seemed to really enjoy your performance.”
A small, proud smile makes its way to Jungwon’s lips. “I’m glad they enjoyed it. They seemed to like your performance too. I know I did.”
Goddamn Yang Jungwon. His words were making your heart beat as fast as it was when you were competing on the ice. 
Your cheeks feel hot, and you fan your face with your hand to try and stop them from getting warmer. Jungwon seems to notice your actions. “It’s hot, isn’t it?” he asks.
“What?”
“The weather.” he says, pulling out his phone. “It’s 32 degrees right now.” 
Thank god Jungwon is dense when it comes to any aspect of romance. You understand why though, because when he was younger, he was fully devoted to the ice. You don’t think he even gave any attention to the people who were chasing after him and yearning for his affection — because it was like his heart belonged to the ice.
“Oh. Yeah, it is.” you say. You think you dodged a bullet there. You and Jungwon arrive at the ramen shop soon after, and Harua is right — the food is absolutely delicious. 
Speaking of Harua, the ramen reminds you of him mentioning that if he came with you and Jungwon, he’d be third-wheeling. 
Somehow you feel… giddy at the thought of that. Not Harua third-wheeling, but the idea of you and Jungwon on a date. 
Wait, was this dinner a date? 
No. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. Jungwon only sees you as a friend. 
But the idea of you two possibly being something more seems to now be engraved in the back of your mind, and while eating ramen in 32 degree weather with Yang Jungwon in the streets of Makuhari, you realise:
You like Jungwon.
TEN. 4Lz (ur, fall)
Jungwon finds that Fantasy on Ice ends faster than he thinks. It was nearly two months of touring — time really does fly when you’re having fun.
He thinks he’s starting to enjoy skating again. He’s found a new appreciation for his craft — and with the knowledge that his skating is able to make so many people happy, he thinks that he should be able to make himself happy with his own skating. 
He returns to the Taereung skating rink with a bright smile, and Irene notices the change in his demeanour the second he walks in the door. 
“Welcome back, Jungwon.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Hi, Irene. Thanks.” he replies, placing his skate bag on the floor before taking his skates out. He takes off his usual training shoes, putting on the skating boots that've been with him every day for the last 3 years.
“How was FAOI?” Irene asks. “Good. It was fun.” Jungwon says, finishing lacing up his skates. 
“That’s good. Are you ready to practise for next season properly now?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah.” he says, skating onto the rink. 
“You remember the choreographies, right?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. He thinks he remembers them, but now that she asks, he’s not too sure if he remembers them completely. 
“We’ll do the short program first.” Irene says, pressing play on her phone as the music plays through the speakers. 
Jungwon glides on the ice elegantly, his movements as fluid and soft as water. He spins and turns on the ice, doing backward crossovers as he prepares for the first jump — a quad lutz. 
He’s usually confident in this jump. He takes off, spinning in the air — but as he’s about to make his landing, he falls. Irene makes a noise just as Jungwon gets up, and he presses his lips together in a thin line. It’s fine. Jungwon thinks.
The next jump is a quad toeloop-triple toeloop combination, and Jungwon thinks he’ll do fine, and he lands the quad well, but he feels the landing on the triple is a little shaky.
Doubt fills his mind. Did he get worse somehow while doing the ice shows? Sure, he didn’t do as many quads when he was in Japan, but he thought he’d be okay. Or maybe he’s just having a bad day. He’s done three jumps. Two of them he wouldn’t consider done well.
Flying camel spin. Jungwon’s spins are always done well, and Irene nods in approval — but every thought in Jungwon’s mind is telling him that he shouldn’t have done that ice show. He slacked off, and now he’s not doing as great as he was before.
Final jump for his short program, a triple axel. He lands it cleanly, but he feels little satisfaction for it. Dread is what Jungwon feels. He shouldn’t have gone. He should’ve listened to the devil on his shoulder telling him to stay — he needs to train. He needs to practise.
Spin combination. Jungwon does them well as usual. Then the step sequence, which as he’s skating, he hears Irene make a small hum in satisfaction. But Jungwon does not feel any satisfaction from his performance at all.
The last element of his program, a sit spin, is completed perfectly. 
Jungwon is surprised he remembers the entire choreography when he’s in his finishing pose. He sighs, skating around the rink with a frown on his face.
“You didn’t have enough height on your quad lutz.” Irene says, and Jungwon nods. “I know.” 
“Train that for a bit.” 
Jungwon listens.
And he falls more than he usually does. 
The more he falls, the more his brain tells him that he should have stayed. He notices you entering the rink, and that lifts his mood slightly — but as he attempts another quad lutz, and falls, he’s just completely tired.
He motions to Irene that he’s going to have a break. He leaves the rink, putting his skate guards on as he heads towards an empty bench, burying his face in his hands.
You immediately notice the dejected look on Jungwon’s face, and you hurry over to him to ask him if he’s okay. 
“What’s wrong, Won?” you ask, sitting down next to him. “Nothing. I’m frustrated.” he replies with a sigh.
“You can talk to me.” 
“I spent too much time having fun. And now I think I forgot the choreo to my free skate, and I can’t land my quad lutz — usually, I’d be way ahead in terms of preparation. And I’m just scared that I won’t do well next season.” he says, his voice shaky, and you frown.
“I’m not blaming you for saying I should’ve gone to the ice shows, by the way. I enjoyed the ice show. But now I feel underprepared.” 
“It’s okay. But Jungwon, Grand Prix is like in… September. It’s July.” you say, in an attempt to reassure him.
“I know. I know. I’m just… worried.” 
“You have plenty, plenty of time. And hey, maybe it’s just a bad skate day. I get those sometimes.” you say in a soft voice, placing your hand on his shoulder, and Jungwon thinks your words make him feel a little better. “Doing not as well on one day doesn’t mean you’re terrible now, Jungwon. You have lots of time, and you’ll only get better. Don’t stress, okay?”
“Okay.” he says, sighing. 
“You’ll do great. I know it.” 
Your words are able to comfort him. Jungwon is thankful for that. But he feels this blooming feeling in his chest that he doesn’t really think he’s ever felt before. The words Harua said a month ago pops back into his mind. You two are definitely going to fall in love.
Love may be a bit of a stretch for now. But Jungwon thinks he certainly does like you. He feels warm and happy around you. He thinks about you a lot. And the possibility of being something more than friends has started to linger in the back of his mind.
“Thank you. You will too.” Jungwon says. You give his hand a tight squeeze as encouragement, telling him ‘fighting!’ — which makes him crack a small smile.
Shit, maybe Harua is right. Jungwon thinks. He heads back onto the rink, deciding that he should try the quad lutz again. Maybe it’s just a bad day. 
And as he lands one that he thinks is the cleanest one he’s ever done, he decides that perhaps taking Harua’s advice to ask Google how to tell if he likes someone isn’t the worst idea. 
ELEVEN. octuple flip
Grand Prix assignments roll out two weeks after you and Jungwon’s return to the Taereung rink. 
You’re assigned to Grand Prix de France and NHK Trophy, and Jungwon’s assigned to Skate Canada and like you, the NHK Trophy. 
You’re glad you’ll at least be able to see him at a Grand Prix competition. You tell him that when he’s at Skate Canada, you’ll be watching him skate from the comfort of your home. He tells you that he’ll be doing the same when you’re at Grand Prix de France.
You and Jungwon get even closer during training for the Grand Prix competitions. Like you had said, that day when he fell on the quad lutz multiple times was just a bad day. You’ve seen him do both his short program and free program cleanly multiple times now. 
Jungwon thinks he must’ve been having fun during training, because Skate Canada rolls around faster than he thinks. But of course with you around at training, it’ll always be fun. 
He did not end up asking Google for relationship advice. He instead asked Wonyoung, who had asked him to text her about you and just simply describe you and how you made him feel. He had originally texted  ‘nice to me.’, but then Wonyoung told him that he had to elaborate.
Needless to say, after his long paragraph about you that he sent to Wonyoung (she skimmed over it, the first two lines of the text were all she needed to know), she had established that Jungwon liked you. 
And with that thought in his mind, Jungwon does realise he has started to act differently around you more recently. He’s more attentive to you, he’s always by your side when you’re around, and he finds himself sometimes wanting to just hold your hand.
As you send him off to the airport, a bright smile on your lips and a cat plushie in your hand that you give to him, a pink blush tints his cheeks, even if he doesn’t know it. And if he did, he’d blame it on how hot the coffee in his hand is. 
Unbeknownst to Jungwon, your cheeks are heating up too when you see the look on his face after you give him the stuffed animal. 
There’s just something about Jungwon that makes your heart do flips. Triple flips, quadruple flips — even quintuple flips.
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. You think it just did 8 rotations. Not humanly possible.
But, your heart just does an octuple flip. 
You text him every day too, when he’s in Canada. He responds almost immediately (if he’s awake, because of the damned time zones), and he sometimes even sends you pictures of himself on the ice too. There’s one where he’s holding up the cat plushie you gave him, a smile on his lips. You find that there are butterflies in your stomach after you see the message.
Time zones are horrible, but you set an alarm so you can remember to open up your laptop and watch him skate. 
You send him a goodluck message, that he doesn’t read immediately because he must have his phone in his bag, since he’s about to skate soon. 
And when the commentator announces Jungwon’s name, you see him skate out onto the rink. You murmur You got this! but obviously, you know he can’t hear you.
“Now, obviously Yang Jungwon is one of the most anticipated skaters at this Grand Prix competition. He delivered a sublime skate at Worlds last season, securing him the title as world champion.” you hear the commentator say, as Jungwon skates around the rink before getting into his starting position. “Yang Jungwon with the music: A Walk In The Skies.” 
The music starts, and Jungwon moves across the ice in a way you’re most familiar with now. You’ve seen him do this program hundreds, maybe thousands of times — but at a competition, Jungwon’s got his A-game on. His movements are delicate, elegant and beautiful. 
“First comes the quad lutz.” the commentator says, and you watch your screen intently as Jungwon takes off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing cleanly. “Yes!” you say, pumping your fist. 
“Absolutely stunning.” 
You agree with the commentator wholeheartedly.
“The quad toe-triple toe.” Jungwon lands the quad toe the second the commentator says that, and takes off into the triple toe — another clean jump. 
You smile. He’s doing great, you think, as he does a flying camel spin. He looks happy as he skates as well. He seems to be enjoying the sport more and more each day.
Jungwon skates his entire program cleanly, with all green boxes on the left hand corner of your screen. His technical score is the highest among all the skaters, and he was the last to skate — you think that he’ll definitely place first in the short program.
“Yang Jungwon at his best, everyone.” the commentator says. “Yang did absolutely wonderful tonight, and I’m sure it will reflect on the scores.”
He bows, a genuine smile on his lips — one that he hasn’t shown in a long time at competitions as the cat plushies fall from the bleachers and onto the ice. He picks up as many as he can before leaving the rink while the flower kids pick up the rest, as the camera pans to him giving Irene a fist bump.
You think he’ll break 100. There’s no way he won’t. 
As he sits in the Kiss and Cry nervously waiting for his scores, you sit at home on your couch, just as nervous as he is. The camera faces towards him, and Jungwon smiles at it, holding up one of the cat plushies he had received and mouthing a thank you. 
“The scores, please.” 
“The short program score for Yang Jungwon of South Korea is 111.45, his season’s best and currently puts him in first place.” 
The crowd erupts into cheers, and you push your laptop off your lap and onto the couch, jumping up in excitement. 
You watch as Jungwon pumps his fist up into the air before hugging Irene with pure joy on his face. 
Jungwon doesn’t think he’s been this happy to place first in a long, long time. He had fun skating today. He also skated well today. And he’s currently in first. 
Having fun and winning can coexist. Jungwon finds that out today as he bows once more before leaving the Kiss and Cry.
Jungwon thinks that he’s just a few steps away from loving skating again. 
TWELVE. you, me (?) and the ice
Jungwon wins the men’s category of Skate Canada.
You welcome him back to Korea with a huge hug at the airport, slightly startling him but he hugs you back nevertheless. “You did so, so good!” you say, and Jungwon smiles.
“Thank you.” he says. “I haven’t felt this happy to win gold in so long.”
“You know I cried watching your free skate?” you say, and Jungwon looks at you, eyes widened. “Really?” he asks, as you lead him to your car. 
“I was really proud. And happy. Because you looked like you liked skating again.” you say. “I did like skating there. I haven’t enjoyed skating competitively for so long… and I feel like I just did better when I enjoyed it.” he hums.
“Jungwon, you broke a world record, and you had fun while doing it.” you say.
“I did.” he replies. “If you had told that to me at the beginning of the year, I wouldn’t have believed you.”
You load his luggage into the trunk of your car, motioning for him to get into the front seat. He does, and when you slide into the driver’s seat, he surprises you with a cute stuffed toy of an adorable polar bear — which are the plushies that your fans throw onto the ice after you skate.
“I saw this in a store window when I was heading back to the hotel, and it reminded me of you,” he says, handing it to you. “It’s so cute, Jungwon! Thank you.” you say, taking the toy in your hands. “Look, I even got it skates.” he says, pointing at the skates attached to the polar bear toy’s feet, making you chuckle. 
“That’s so cool.” you say, setting it aside so you can drive. “I’m putting this on my nightstand.” 
You do actually want to put it on your nightstand, but you decide to bring it with you to France. You pack it in your backpack the night before you leave. “You’re my good luck charm now,” you tell the stuffed toy.
And this time it’s Jungwon’s turn to send you off. 
Like what you did when Jungwon was in Canada, he texts you as much as he can, updating you on the little things that go on at the rink, such as telling you about how Jiwon bought a hot dog, or Jongseob doing backflips on the ice nonstop.
He keeps his promise of watching you skate. He watches your short program on his bed, his dog Maeumi curling up beside him as he watches in anticipation. You skated clean in the short program, and as if Jungwon was actually in the arena right now, he erupts into applause. 
“Look, Maeumi. (Name) did well.” he says, showing his dog the screen that showed the rankings. Maeumi only blinks at the screen. 
When the time to watch your free skate rolls around, Jungwon drops everything to watch it. He ends his call with Wonyoung, when they’re talking about the family gathering next month that Jungwon doesn’t think that he’ll be able to make it to. “Sorry, Wonyo — something important just came up, I’ll call you back later.” he tells her, ending the call swiftly.
He sees you in the last group of skaters warming up — you’re going to skate last, because you placed first during the short program. He watches as you land a triple loop cleanly, and unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips.
He watches the other skaters skate before you, and they all do pretty well. There’s a couple of falls, and Jungwon winces when one of the skaters hits the ice particularly hard. 
And when your name is announced, his eyes are immediately drawn to the screen, diverting his attention from Maeumi, who now also seems to be drawn to the laptop.
“Last to skate is (Name), representing South Korea. Now, (Name) had a wonderful season last year — placing 1st at the Grand Prix finals, and 2nd at the World Championships. Placed first in the short program, she’s surely aiming for the top of the podium here today.” the commentator says. 
Jungwon chews on the inside of his cheek nervously as your music starts. 
Every time you skate, Jungwon is in awe, and today is certainly no exception. You glide on the ice as smoothly as a flowing river, every movement of yours from your arm all the way to your fingertips controlled delicately. 
Quad flip, Jungwon thinks at the same time the commentator says that out loud. You land it beautifully, and Jungwon nods his head, murmuring ‘nice’. Maeumi looks at Jungwon’s laptop screen, just as transfixed on your skating as his owner is. 
Being able to watch your skating is a gift in itself, Jungwon thinks. Your performances are absolutely mesmerising, and Jungwon knows he wouldn’t be able to look away even if he tried. You are a master at combining technique with artistry – without a doubt, it is clear to everybody that you were born to skate. As you continue with your program, Jungwon’s eyes follow your figure on the screen.
He has watched you do this program a million times. Every single time, he gets chills – every single time, you do it better than the last time. Everything is executed to perfection, and there is one thing Jungwon notices clearly as you skate. It is your passion for it. 
You skate as if it'll be your last skate ever. You give your all, expressing every single emotion you feel and sharing it with the audience. You aren’t showing off your skills – you are telling a story. A tale of you and the ice.
You once mentioned to him that you had always wanted to fly. You might not have wings, but you have your skates. Aim higher. Soar higher. Despite how difficult figure skating is, and the injury that almost took you out of the sport — never once, have you thought to quit. Never once have you wanted to give up on your dream, and never once have you ever imagined a world without you skating.
Jungwon wants to skate with as much passion and love as you have for the sport. He has much to learn from you, and it is only when your music stops that he realises that a single tear drops from his eye. 
You have single handedly changed Jungwon’s entire perspective of skating. You managed to help him fall back in love with the sport – and he knows he’s not fully there yet, but he’s close to it, and your encouragement played a huge part in it. He knows he would be miserable on the ice if you hadn’t. 
And when your scores are announced, with everyone in the arena and everyone watching online hearing how you had broken a new world record, Jungwon jumps up from his bed with joy, a huge grin plastered on his lips. 
Nobody deserves that gold medal more than you do. 
THIRTEEN. thin ice
With each skate and each reminder that he should use the ice to release all his pressures and burdens, Jungwon enjoys skating more and more now. 
Irene notices how Jungwon finds skating more exciting. Being subjected to only frowns and sighs of disappointment only for the past few years, she thinks it’s certainly a nice change – and deep inside, she hopes that Jungwon will change his mind about retirement. 
He has been seriously considering it now. With him now being able to enjoy skating competitions, Jungwon finds himself wanting to compete next season, but still, a little part of him still wonders if he should let his first love go. 
He thinks he’ll decide after the Olympics (that is if he makes the team, of course.) Jungwon knows he’ll have to put out a really good skate at Nationals in January. Despite that little devil telling him that if he doesn’t train morning, noon and night, he’ll lose, Jungwon decides to ignore it. He finds that he skates better when he’s having fun anyways. 
NHK Trophy rolls around soon enough, and it’s both yours and Jungwon’s last Grand Prix assignment before the Final. You two are finally travelling together for the first time since the ice show, and you don’t forget to buy a cat plushie to hand to him after his free skate (you know he has plenty of them, but one more couldn’t hurt.)
Jungwon does the same, buying a polar bear plushie for you that he stuffs into his suitcase. 
The competition goes well for both of you, with both of you winning silver medals and gaining a spot in the Grand Prix Final.
You both fall once in the free skate, with the winners of the competition skating cleanly for both programs. The Jungwon a couple months ago would be terribly upset about it – but now, Jungwon is happy about silver. He podiumed whilst skating happily. Something that he didn’t think he’d be able to do again. 
When Jungwon hands you the polar bear plushie after your free skate, he doesn’t realise that a camera goes off the second you take hold of it in your hands. And when you hand him the cat plushie after his free skate, another camera goes off as well – you both don’t find out until somehow Dispatch releases an article about it. 
First of all, Jungwon wonders why you two are on Dispatch anyways. You two aren’t idols, and you doubt that the public would really care about either of your romantic lives, but Jungwon finds that he is very wrong after reading some of the comments from netizens. Second of all, he wonders why he didn’t notice the camera flash when both incidents happened. Third of all, he examines his face closely – and he thinks that the smile he’s giving you is one of the brightest ones of his that’s been seen on camera.
Harua texts him a ‘invite me to the wedding’ with a link to the article and too many emojis that it gives Jungwon an eyesore. Jungwon replies with a no and a middle finger emoji. Harua knows well enough that you and Jungwon aren’t together.
Yuzuru texts him ‘Are you two finally together? Congratulations!’ with perfect capitalisation and a link to the article. Jungwon replies with another no, but this time with a smiley face instead of the middle finger. Yuzuru texts him a thumbs up. His follow up message reads I’m sure it’ll happen soon though, and Jungwon just sends back a ‘hahahahaha’. 
And you’re subjected to merciless teasing from Riki, who spams the article link in your chat. You honestly think it’s much worse than the comments from some of the netizens you read. But honestly, what the netizens say isn't even that bad. Except for the comments from the ones who want Jungwon to be theirs. Those ones you just laugh at, because honestly, they’re quite hilarious. You’ve never read such creative insults directed at you. 
But the articles make Jungwon think. 
About the possibility of being in a relationship with you. He’s established that he thinks he likes you (or at least his feelings for you do fit what Wonyoung and Google have said about what liking someone is like), but Jungwon has never thought about… dating. 
Quite frankly, Jungwon thinks that he’d be scared to tell you about his feelings – because he knows that once you confess, that relationship would be changed forever. You can’t go back to just friends when the other knows that you want to be more than that. And what happens if the relationship doesn’t work out? Do you just act like the whole thing never happened? Or do you just cut the other person off completely? 
The latter option is absolutely not possible considering that you and Jungwon are training mates too. 
This is complicated. And thinking about it makes Jungwon’s head hurt. 
But then he looks at the cat plushie on his bed that you had given to him after he finished skating his free program. The joy that fills his heart is immense, and he can’t stop the lovestruck grin from spreading across his lips. 
Is this what the movies and books described as being struck by Cupid’s arrow? Because if so, Jungwon thinks that Cupid shot an arrow straight through his heart, with your name engraved on the tip of it. 
Jungwon can’t stop thinking about you. His day is instantly made the second he sees you walk through the doors of the Taereung ice rink, and he looks at you as if you've got the whole universe in your hands. Every single move you make, every single smile you send his way makes that blooming feeling in Jungwon’s chest get warmer, warmer, and warmer. 
Jungwon likes you. He thinks he really, really likes you. 
And coming to that conclusion doesn’t make him as afraid as he thought he'd be. He’s calm, and he thinks his conclusion just seems right. As if the final piece of the puzzle is put into place, Jungwon’s feelings for you are finally sorted out. 
Jungwon doesn’t need Harua, Wonyoung or Google to tell him that he likes you. 
He just knows it. 
Confessing is a whole other story, but Jungwon thinks that when the right time comes, he’ll do it. He doesn’t know much about love, with his entire life practically being devoted to the ice – but he knows that when it feels right, it must be the right time. 
So, Jungwon comes to two conclusions that night. 
One: he really likes you, and he doesn’t need anyone else to confirm it for him.
Two: he can’t believe that a Dispatch article made him realise that he really liked you. 
FOURTEEN. public skating session 
You ask Jungwon if you’d like to skate at another public rink after the Grand Prix Final is over.
He immediately says yes.
He doesn’t take you up on the offer to wear rental skates though, so both of you lace up your skates on the bench, Jungwon putting your bags into a cubbyhole. 
“Let’s go, Wonie!” you say, and he finds his heart fluttering at the nickname. He follows you onto the rink like the first time, and you two skate side by side, at a way slower pace than usual to be mindful of the other skaters at the rink.
“How does it feel to be the 2026 Grand Prix Final champion?” you ask him, and he smiles at you. “Hmm. I don’t know,” Jungwon replies. “I should be asking you that.”
You and Jungwon both winning in your respective categories were amazing for the media. Yang Jungwon and (Name), figure skaters rumoured to be dating win Men’s Grand Prix Final and Women’s Grand Prix Final was the headline. But at least Dispatch can add more to their article, and you and Jungwon get to go home with shiny gold medals. 
“Feels pretty good. Two years in a row,” you say, and he pats you on the back. “You deserved it,” Jungwon says. “Have I ever told you how in awe I am whenever I watch you skate?” 
“Thank you,” you say, chuckling as your cheeks turn hot at the compliment. “Your skating is amazing as well — that step sequence in World Dreams? Gave me actual chills. I saw a tear drop from a woman’s eye when I was seated in the crowd.”
“Really?” Jungwon asks, and you nod. “She was bawling by the end of it, I think.” you say, and Jungwon softly smiles. “I’m glad my skating made her feel something… hopefully all good things though.” 
“Most definitely good things. She threw 5 cat plushies onto the ice. I think she’s a hardcore fan.” you reply. “She might’ve dethroned my spot as your number one fan.” 
“Hey,” Jungwon says, pouting. “You texted me when I was at Skate Canada saying that you’d always be my number one fan.” 
“Yeah, but she was like a diehard fan,” you say. “Don’t worry though, I’ll throw out 15 cat plushies when you skate during Nationals. I’m taking my spot back.” 
“I’ll throw out more than 15 polar bear plushies when you skate at Nationals. I’ll throw out 16.” 
“Are you challenging me?” 
“Yeah,” Jungwon says, a smile never leaving his lips. 
“We can just be each other’s number one fan.” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Deal. So can I get your autograph?” he jokes. 
“Sure thing,” you say, playing along. You motion for him to hold his palm out, and you trace your autograph on his hand. “There you go!” you say, tracing a smiley face and a heart as well. 
“I’ll treasure this forever,” he quips. 
“You better.” 
You two fall into a comfortable silence as you both skate laps around the rink, observing the other people there. Like last time, there are couples on dates, there are little kids learning to skate, and there’s people who actually figure skate, doing spins in the centre of the rink. 
“Right, I was going to say. You seem way, way more happier on the ice than you were before,” you tell Jungwon, who nods. “Yeah. I think I actually like skating again. I mean… I can’t exactly say love, because you know… sometimes I just revert back to the way I used to think whenever I fail at something.” he replies. “But competitions are a lot more fun. The ice doesn’t drain me of all my energy anymore, and winning medals sort of brings me fulfilment again.”
“That’s amazing, Won.” you say. 
Now that you think about it. Jungwon wanted to retire because he didn’t love skating anymore. But now that Jungwon enjoys it again, you’re left wondering if he’ll still continue competitive skating.
It’s as if Jungwon’s able to read your mind. “I’m not sure if I’ll retire or not. On one hand, skating is fun now… and I’d like to continue at least maybe for a little longer, but I’m also wondering if I should just��� let go. Explore things outside of skating, even though I know I’ll probably come back to the ice every time.”
You let his words sink in for a moment. “I think… you don’t have to decide your future plans this early. You could decide at the Olympics, after you skate. Or you could even go to Worlds after the Olympics and decide then.”
“Yeah. I could do that.” Jungwon breathes out. “I’m just… indecisive and unsure of everything right now.”
“No, I get it,” you nod. “You have time, Jungwon. Don’t rush things.” you tell him. 
Jungwon agrees with you. Thinking about too much and thinking too far ahead were two of the many reasons why he fell out of love with figure skating. Now that he’s slowly started to enjoy it again, he knows he has to rid himself of his bad habits. 
“Okay. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to retire. If I was, I would’ve already done it by now.” he says, smiling. “And if I don’t retire this season, I’ll probably just retire in 2030. I can still fulfil my dream of leaving at the biggest stage.” 
“I feel like I’d do that as well, if I’m not gonna lie.” you say, and Jungwon tilts his head. “So are we retiring together?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I mean… if you don’t retire during this Olympics, then probably. But do what feels right, Won. Don’t do it because you feel pressure from others to keep going. If you love the sport, you’ll always find a way back to it, like something like professional skating, or coaching, or doing commentary. If you think it’s time, then it’s time.” 
Jungwon can always count on you for giving him great advice. 
“You’re right.” he says. “Anyways… enough about that.” he spots a penguin skating aid in the corner, and he skates up to grab a hold of it. He pushes it as he skates, and you can’t help but find the mere action adorable. 
You pull out your phone to record him, and you chuckle as you see him skate faster towards you. “Cute,” you say, and Jungwon’s cheeks flush pink. If you ask, he’ll blame it on the rink being cold. 
“You use it,” he says, pushing the skating aid towards you. You gladly take it, grabbing ahold of the handles, pushing it as you skate with Jungwon by your side. 
Talking to Jungwon is easy. He tells you about how he stores his medals in ziplock bags when he needs to take them to interviews, to which you propose a better idea: using socks (a trick you learned from none other than Yuzuru Hanyu himself.) He also tells you about his dog, Maeumi, who apparently had watched your Grand Prix de France free skate with him – Jungwon says that Maeumi was absolutely mesmerised by your performance, and it’s interesting how every single thing Jungwon says is able to bring a smile to your face. 
You tell him that you’d like to meet Maeumi, and he tells you that you’re welcome over anytime. Your heart flutters at the invitation that you accept warmly. “In fact, you could come over after we leave.” 
“Really?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “It’s not like we’ll be spending more than an hour here anyways. We already spend most of our days at another rink – we’d get way too bored if we spend hours here like everyone else.” 
Jungwon is right. After 20 minutes of more skating and just talking to each other about your lives (as if you didn’t learn nearly absolutely everything about him during the off-season), you and Jungwon head over to his apartment, where you meet Maeumi. 
And as you play with Maeumi, gushing over how cute he is, you notice the fond smile on Jungwon’s lips as he watches you two from the couch. 
You don’t know why, but that look on Jungwon’s face makes you think that perhaps you two could be something more than friends. 
FIFTEEN. last nationals skate (?)
Jangmi calls Jungwon the day before the short program for Nationals. 
“I’m sorry for getting upset,” she tells him. “It’s your career, not mine.”
Jungwon sighs. “It’s fine. I don’t think I know what I want to do with my career either. Retiring is an option, and competing… also is another option now.” 
Jangmi somehow sounds happier at the sound of Jungwon’s words. “That's… good,” she says, trying to not make it obvious that continuing to skate is still an option for Jungwon. “What changed your mind?”
“I started liking it again.” he says, gazing at the sheet of ice in the Uijeongbu ice rink. The ice finally feels like home again, and instead of bringing him dread, Jungwon feels at ease at the rink now. The pressure is no longer something that drags him under – it is now something he uses to allow himself to skate better. 
Now when he skates, he feels his passion for it again. “Even the brightest of flames burn out,” you had said. His flame dimmed, nearly being put out entirely – but he’s more than happy to have been able to ignite it again. 
And as his music starts playing for the short program, Jungwon realises something as he glides across the ice elegantly. 
If he retires, this will be his last ever Nationals. 
This crowd, this rink, this atmosphere – it’ll be the last time he ever gets to experience this. He stays completely focused on his program, but this thought lingers at the back of his mind when he lands the quad lutz. 
The audience cheers, and Jungwon’s eyes catch sight of the banners that fans have made for him in the crowd, with encouraging words that bring a smile to Jungwon’s face. 
When he finishes his short program, Jungwon pumps his fist into the air, more than satisfied with his performance. He skates around the rink as the audience throws stuffed animals onto the ice, picking some up as he thanks the crowd. 
He bows before leaving the rink, Irene pulling him into a hug after he puts his skate guards on. “You did amazing.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Thank you,” he replies, as he makes his way to the Kiss and Cry.
As he waits patiently for his scores, he can’t stop thinking about how if he does decide to retire at the end of this season, that was his last ever short program at Nationals. He didn’t think this far ahead when he told Irene that he wanted to hang up his skates at the beginning of the off season, and now that he realises that he may be nearing the end of his career, Jungwon suddenly starts feeling a wave of sadness. 
He was nothing but sure about his decision when he told Irene that he’d be retiring. But now, sitting in the Kiss and Cry at quite possibly one of his last competitions ever, Jungwon thinks he might just want to hold on for a little longer. 
“The scores, please.” the announcer says, ending Jungwon’s train of thought. 
“The short program score for Yang Jungwon is 112.36, which currently puts him in first place.” 
The crowd erupts into cheers at his score, and Jungwon smiles in satisfaction while Irene claps. “Good job,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her. He stands up, bowing once again before leaving the Kiss and Cry, and everything just slowly starts sinking in. 
If this was his last short program ever at Nationals, at least he did well. 
But Jungwon doesn’t want this to be his last ever Nationals. The feeling of wanting nothing more than to just leave the ice has completely disappeared in a matter of months, and Jungwon now just wants to stay. 
Maybe it isn’t time to hang up his skates. 
After finding his passion for skating again, Jungwon just wants to feel the thrill of competition. He dreaded competitions months ago, but now his feelings towards the ice have completely changed. Winning medals can finally bring him satisfaction again – he’s being acknowledged for being good at something that he loves. 
He can now look at the cameras while standing atop that podium with a genuine smile on his face. He doesn’t feel like he’s a robot anymore, with  every move he makes when he skates programmed into his brain – he feels like he’s a writer, or a poet, telling his story on the ice. 
He changes out of his costume, putting on a hoodie and some sweatpants before leaving the locker room. He checks the time, realising that there’s only an hour until the women’s free skate – he promised you that he’d be in the crowd.
With 16 polar bear stuffed animals that he currently does not have. 
He rushes to the nearest toy shop, asking the staff if they have polar bear plushies still in stock, and luckily, they do. The shop assistant helping him looks slightly concerned when he asks for 16, but still brings them all out in a basket. “Is this for (Name)?” she asks, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows, confused as to how she would know that. 
“Yeah… how’d you know?” 
“Bunch of people came in asking for polar bear stuffed toys to throw onto the ice for her.” she says, scanning all the polar bears. “Oh. That’s nice of them.” Jungwon replies. 
“You bought the most.” the shop assistant says, putting all of them into a large shopping bag for Jungwon, noticing how he only has a backpack that most certainly won’t fit 16 polar bear toys. 
“Oh, cool.” he says, swiping his card on the reader. The transaction goes through, and the shop assistant smiles at him before handing him his receipt. “Good luck to both you and (Name) on your free skates,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her before leaving the store. 
He makes it back to the Uijeongbu ice rink just in time, with Jongseob saving him a seat. “That’s a shit ton of polar bears you’ve got there,” Jongseob says, holding a plushie of Artemis from the Sailor Moon series to throw on the ice after Jiwon skates. 
“Yeah.” Jungwon replies, putting the shopping bag onto the ground. 
“You’re a dedicated boyf– fan!” 
“Enough.” 
There’s five groups of skaters, and you’re the last to skate. Jungwon cheers for each and every skater, but his cheers will definitely be the loudest for you. Jongseob yells as his life depends on it when Jiwon skates onto the ice. 
Soon enough, it’s your turn to skate. You look at the crowd, spotting Jungwon and Jongseob sitting together and you flash Jungwon a smile, whilst a shit-eating grin spreads across Jongseob’s lips. “Good luck,” he mouths to you, and you nod as a way of saying thank you. 
Your program goes well, for the most part – aside from falling on a quad toe loop and stepping out on a triple lutz. Jungwon knows that you’ve done enough to secure a podium spot – and a spot on the Olympic team, and it seems as if you know that too, tears streaming down your face the minute you finish your program. 
You’re going to the Olympics. You’ve finally achieved your lifelong dream.
Cheers and applause resound throughout the rink, with tons of polar bear stuffed toys being thrown out onto the ice by fans, and Jungwon is one of them. You see him throw out polar bear after polar bear from the shopping bag he’s holding, and a sweet smile spreads across Jungwon’s lips as he sees your surprised face.
“16?” you mouth at him, and Jungwon nods. You can’t help but clap your hands over your mouth to hide your laughter, and as the announcer calls your name again, you skate into the middle of the rink, bowing once again before leaving.
Eventually, it is you, Jiwon and another skater named Kim Chaeyeon who get named to the Olympic team. 
Like how Jungwon bought 16 plushies for you during your free skate, you buy 17. It’s a funny coincidence how you both end up going to the same toy shop, and the shop assistant gives you a smile when you enter. “Could I get… 17 cat plushies?”
“This is for Yang Jungwon, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“He said the same thing when he came in yesterday to get 16 polar bear plushies for you,” she says, taking the toys and putting them into a basket. You have a nice conversation with her before you leave the shop with a large bag holding exactly 17 cat plushies. 
You notice multiple things when you’re in the audience. Jiwon has a stuffed animal of a tiger in her lap that she throws out onto the ice when Jongseob skates. She also gives you a look as if to tell you not to tease her about it. You also see tons of people holding cat plushies, ready to throw onto the ice after Jungwon skates, and you’re one of those people too. 
You also notice the passion Jungwon now has for skating. He commands the ice, moving fluidly across the rink – Jungwon is a phenomenal skater. Goosebumps rise up on your skin, and you don’t think any other skater has been able to convey emotions to the audience this effectively. 
Like you, Jungwon qualifies for a spot on the Olympic team. 
He gazes at you as you throw cat plushies onto the ice, and a fond smile spreads across his lips. “17?” he mouths at you, and you nod. 
Jungwon wonders if your heart’s beating as fast as his. 
Little does he know, it is. 
SIXTEEN. born to skate
Just being able to go to the Olympics is truly sensational.
You weren’t even able to fully process it until you saw a staff member walk up to you and hand you your Olympic security pass. Your name’s on it, along with the 2026 Milano Cortina logo on the right – and under your name, it says athlete. 
You can’t believe a security pass might actually make you burst into tears. 
Jungwon hangs his security pass over his neck, and then turns to look at you. “You okay?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “It’s just kind of crazy. I’m going to compete at the Olympics – Wonie, oh my god. I’m an Olympian.” 
“You are,” he says. He takes your hand, locking his fingers with yours and gives your hand a tight squeeze. The mere action makes your face feel hot, your heart beating in your chest incredibly fast. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” 
“You will too,” you say, beaming at him. You don’t want him to let go of your hand. Jungwon doesn’t want to let go either. 
He only let go when Jongseob and Jiwon were walking towards you two. 
That aside, time seems to go by faster for some reason. You arrived in Italy 2 days before the men’s short program event, and today’s already the day. Jungwon changes into his costume, and zips on the South Korea team jacket before he leaves the changing room. 
“You ready?” you ask him.
“Yeah. I'm a little nervous, but it’ll go away when I start skating.” he replies, and you smile. “You’ve got this, Won.” you say, pulling him into a hug. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
Before he starts skating, Jungwon looks into the crowd to spot where you’re seated. You give him a thumbs up, and he smiles softly before getting into his starting position. 
Jungwon has missed the Olympic ice. 
In the crowd, you notice how Jungwon’s skating even better than he did at Nationals. He skates with  pure emotion – as if this skate could very well be his last. 
Then the realisation hits you like a truck. 
If Jungwon did decide to retire, sticking with his original plans – this would be his last competitive short program, ever. And now every move he makes on the ice seems to have a whole new meaning for you. 
He skates like he’s got everything on the line. Time and time again, Jungwon tells the audience that he was born to skate – but this performance proves it. Every jump, every spin, every transition, every choreo sequence and every step sequence is executed to absolute perfection. 
Yang Jungwon is a master of his craft. Nobody can doubt that. 
Nobody will doubt that after this performance.
Jungwon has sacrificed hours, days, months and years to produce a performance like this. He has never felt such fulfilment, such satisfaction after skating – the only word he can use to describe how he feels after his skate is that he is proud. 
He is proud that he was able to put out a performance like that. He is proud that he’ll be recognised for an impeccable short program. But most importantly, he is proud that he delivered a program of such quality whilst enjoying every moment he had on that Olympic ice. 
And when the scores are announced, saying that he is currently in first, Jungwon doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier. Irene hugs him tightly, and Jungwon’s practically shaking in disbelief. 
Nobody beats his short program score for the night. Jungwon knows the medal is just within his reach. 
Feeling victory finally feels good, and Jungwon hasn’t even won yet. 
When you rush up to him immediately after he exits his changing room, you wrap him in a huge hug, and at first, he’s startled by your action. But he immediately hugs you back, his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink that he knows he’ll get teased about if Harua sees it. 
“Won, that was incredible!” you could gush over his performance for hours and hours on end. “You were absolutely mesmerising. The image you were painting inside my head – all of our heads! It was so vivid. I felt like I could feel what you felt as you were skating. Everyone was blown away. You’re absolutely sensational.”
Jungwon thinks of you in an incredibly high regard. So hearing these words from you makes his eyes well up slightly with tears, and you immediately notice. 
“Don’t cry!” you say, wrapping him in another hug. “I just needed you to know how incredible you are.” 
Jungwon needs you to know how incredible you are as well.
He feels nothing but warmth as he’s in your embrace, and truly, perhaps this is what Jungwon thinks he might call love. Because you care for him in a way that nobody else has. You didn’t know him well at the time, but still offered to try and get him to enjoy skating again. You push him to be a better skater, and a better person – and Jungwon didn’t think he knew what love was.
But now he thinks he does.
Quite simply, love is you. 
And he cares for you more than he cares about anyone else, even if he thinks that he is terrible at showing it. He isn’t the best when it comes to love, or relationships – but he’s learning. He’s learning all because of you. 
In less than one year, you have changed Jungwon’s life entirely.
You’ve taught him how to have fun skating again. You’ve taught him to allow himself to loosen up, and not let pressure define him. You’ve also taught him what it’s like to be loved. And how to love. 
Jungwon doesn’t know if this is a stretch, but he feels like you might’ve quite literally saved him. Jungwon is forever grateful for the fact that you walked into his life the moment he needed someone like you. 
And Jungwon is more than sure that he indeed does love you. 
Jungwon feels relief when he finally admits it to himself. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knew that he loved you all this time – he just didn’t exactly confront himself about his feelings. 
With you by his side, Jungwon feels like an Olympic gold medalist already. 
SEVENTEEN. olympic ice
The free skate rolls around faster than Jungwon thought.
But he thinks that he’s prepared. He’ll give it his all tonight. He doesn’t even think about the upcoming decision he has to make about his career – he personally believes that the idea that he could possibly win Olympic gold feels a little more important than that.
He knows you’re in the crowd, watching him. It gives him an extra boost of confidence. Jungwon doesn’t realise this until now, but he seems to skate better when you’re in the audience. Perhaps you’re his lucky charm. 
He’s last to skate, being first in the short program. Jungwon’s fully focused during the couple minutes of warm up, jumping a triple axel that he manages to land well, and a quad toe that he finds is a little shaky on the landing, but he’ll try and land it cleanly in the actual program.
Over the speaker, it’s announced that the warmup time is over. Jungwon and some of the other skaters leave the ice, and the first person skating in the group starts his program. 
Whilst the other skater performs, Jungwon runs through his entire program in his head. He can’t let the pressure get to him – he knows he’ll do worse. He reminds himself to have fun. He’ll be skating on Olympic ice for possibly the last time ever, so he knows that he’ll have to make this count. 
Your words ring in his head as he waits for the skaters before him to finish performing their programs. Skating is something that is meant to be enjoyed with the audience. 
Jungwon decides that he will enjoy every minute and every second of it. 
Irene gives him a thumbs up before he skates out to the centre of the rink. “You’ve got this, Jungwon. Stay focused, stay calm.” she tells him, and Jungwon nods. 
“You go kill it out there.” she says, smiling at him.
Jungwon skates off, and Irene just has the proudest look on her face. She knows that this could very well be the last competitive skate of Jungwon’s life. No matter the result, she would be proud – Yang Jungwon has accomplished so much in his career at the age of 22. 
“Last to skate: Yang Jungwon, of South Korea!” 
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, Jungwon raising his arms above his head. He lets them fall back down by his sides, doing a couple twizzles around the rink before skating into the centre.
He gets into his starting position, and the music starts. 
He’s done this program tons and tons of times before. He knows exactly what to do at the exact second, twirling across the ice gracefully. First, is the quad lutz. 
You hold your breath in anticipation as he sets up the jump, taking off – and he lands it. 
With one jump, Jungwon makes the crowd go absolutely crazy. Their shouts die down soon after, allowing Jungwon to listen to the music so he knows when and what he needs to do next. 
He successfully lands more jumps, including a quad salchow-quad toe loop combo that he’s able to land flawlessly. Everything is going well, Jungwon thinks. 
As he skates beautiful transitions on the ice, you catch his eye. You’re gazing right at him with the softest look on your face, and Jungwon thinks his heart might melt. You nod at him, as a way to tell him that he’s doing great.
Jungwon doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know how, but in the middle of his Olympic free skate, he feels more compelled to confess his feelings for you than ever. 
He knows that he just has to tell you. 
When he realised he liked you, he decided that he had to wait for the right time to confess. He didn’t exactly know when the right time would be, or if he would ever even find the right time. He also certainly didn’t expect it to be right in the middle of his free skate.
But everything is crystal clear. Jungwon knows it’s the right time, and he can’t exactly shout out that he loves you when he’s currently preparing to jump a triple axel, but he knows the second he’s able to, he will. 
It’s as if time slows, and you’re the only one in the audience. Jungwon only sees you. You two are just in your little bubble – just you, him, and the ice. 
Jungwon skates with so much power, and so much emotion, trying to express every word he wants to say to you, but with his skating. The crowd’s cheers get louder every time Jungwon lands a jump, and it only gives Jungwon motivation to keep getting better and better. 
Olympic gold is so close. If he just reached up and grabbed it, the shining gold plaque would be right in his hands – and Jungwon knows that he cannot let that slip away between his fingers. His whole life has led up to this moment. Falling in love with the ice, then finding that he had let himself hate it, and then trying to ignite that love and passion he had for skating once more. All of this, allowed for him to skate the cleanest program he’s ever skated at the world’s biggest stage for figure skating. 
The music ends, and the crowd erupts with cheers. Jungwon stands there, shocked and still in his ending position. He feels like he can’t move. 
He can’t believe it. 
Did he just win Olympic gold? 
Countless cat plushies fall onto the ice around him as Jungwon just bursts into tears. Irene’s crying as well, tears of joy streaming down on her face as she claps. Jungwon tries to spot you in the crowd, and when he does, he sees you jumping up and down excitedly with Jiwon, and you just look so incredibly happy for him. 
After the toughest years of his career, fighting to try and keep going in a sport he loved no longer, Jungwon is finally able to love figure skating again, and he might have just won Olympic gold in the process. 
He’s still in shock when he leaves the rink, and Irene pulls him into the tightest hug she’s ever given him, as Jungwon cries into her shoulder. “You did it.” she says.
“I did it.” he says – he can’t even believe the words he just said. He heads to the Kiss and Cry with Irene, pulling out tissues from his tissue box nonstop to wipe his tears away. 
Jungwon waits in the Kiss and Cry for his scores – he knows that he’s won. He just needs the scores to confirm it. 
And sure enough, mere minutes later, Yang Jungwon is announced as the 2026 men’s Olympic figure skating champion.
Jungwon can’t stop crying. Tears just keep falling down his cheeks as he bows to everyone. He can’t even use the word joy to describe what he’s feeling. He never thought he could feel this happy after winning a competition. 
If you told Jungwon months ago that he’d be crying tears of joy after winning a competition, he most certainly wouldn’t have believed you. 
The venue ceremony is soon. So soon to the point where Jungwon isn’t even able to come up to you and tell you how he feels. He’ll do it as soon as the ceremony is over. 
As Jungwon steps onto the highest block on the podium, he’s still in disbelief. It isn’t until the medal actually gets hung around his neck, and he touches the shiny golden plaque. He’s not just Olympian Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 2025 World champion Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 6 time National champion Yang Jungwon. 
Now, he’s also Olympic champion Yang Jungwon. 
Falling back in love with skating was hard. Sometimes he felt like simply just giving up was the easier option – but now with the Olympic gold medal right in his hands, Jungwon knows that pushing through it was the right thing to do. He’s never been more sure of that. 
Jungwon has also never been more sure about the fact that he loves you, and he desperately needs to tell you. As soon as the venue ceremony is over, Jungwon rushes out of the rink, quickly changing from his skates to his regular training shoes – he doesn’t even bother to change out of his free skate costume. 
He finds you standing outside of his changing room, and before you can say anything, he wraps you in the tightest hug ever. He holds you like you’re oxygen, and he’s struggling to breathe. 
When he pulls away from the hug, with the gold medal dangling around his neck, he grasps ahold of your hands. “Jungwon, you did it.” you say, tears welling in your eyes. 
“I have to tell you something.” he murmurs. He opens the door of his changing room, pulling you in with him as he shuts the door. “What is it?” you ask.
“I love you.” 
Your eyes widen. 
“I have never, ever known what it’s like to love someone. Even figuring out that I liked you was so hard – because I knew that I felt differently when I was around you, but I couldn’t exactly pinpoint it on what it was. Then, I was told I had a crush on you. I liked you. And that seemed right. Liking you seemed right.” he says, as you let his words sink in. “I was going to wait until I found the right time to tell you that I liked you. But two days ago, I realised that my feelings towards you seem to be more than like. Love. Yes. I love you.” he says, his eyes brimming with tears.
“Saying it sounds right. Saying it now feels right. And I don’t know if you would feel the same way – but I just saw you in the crowd as I was skating today, and I just knew I had to tell you.” 
Jungwon can’t exactly read your reaction until you pull him into a hug. 
“I love you too.” you say.
Jungwon feels like he’s on top of the world. Four simple words managed to make him even happier than he already was after winning the Olympics – he feels like his heart is about to burst at the seams, and he can’t hide the bright grin on his lips. 
“That’s… that’s nice. I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” Jungwon confesses, and you frown, cupping his cheeks as you wipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same way, Jungwon?”
“I don’t know.”
You smile softly at him. “I realised that I liked you after we went to the ramen shop that Harua had suggested to us.” 
“You realised earlier than me, then.” Jungwon chuckles. 
“I guess so.”
Jungwon can’t believe he only just realised the close proximity between your faces. Your gaze travels to his lips, before you look back up at his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” you whisper. 
“Yeah,” Jungwon whispers back.
You lean in, connecting your lips with his, and warmth just blooms across Jungwon’s chest, his cheeks, and all the way to the tip of his ears. He can taste the mint flavoured lip balm that he always sees you put on, and it’s only when you pull away that Jungwon realises that it was his first kiss. 
You smile at him brightly, and Jungwon mirrors the expression on your face. It’s hard not to smile when he sees you – you just make him so incredibly happy. Jungwon knows that you make him happier than any Olympic gold ever would. 
The sweet moment is cut short when Jungwon’s whisked away to the press conference, and you tell him that you’ll be seated in the crowd to watch. He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek before running off, his cheeks tinted bright red as you chuckle at his reaction. 
“How do you feel after a wildly successful season like this, Jungwon?” a reporter asks, and Jungwon thinks about what is the best way to answer his question. 
“This was… a tough season for me mentally.” he says into the microphone. “In all honesty, I fell out of love with figure skating quite some time ago. Going into this season, I was certain that I was going to retire after the Olympics.” 
Every single person in the room looks at him with wide eyes. 
“But, during the off season, I was lucky enough to meet someone who helped me start enjoying it again.” he says, looking directly at you. “They taught me that above all, I should be enjoying myself while I skate, instead of focusing on the pressures to win and do well.” 
“I don’t think I expected to do as well as I did all season,” Jungwon says earnestly. “But I realised that the more I enjoyed skating, the better I did. I think coming into the Olympics, I just tried to focus on having fun and showing the audience my best. Because of this, I think that’s why I was able to do well.” 
“So will this be your last competition?” 
Jungwon presses his lips together in a thin line, as if he’s still unsure about what decision he’s going to make. But when he locks eyes with you, it’s like everything clicks into place. He knows what he wants. He wants to skate. 
“It’s not my last competition,” he says. “I’m going to keep competing. At least for a little while longer. I realised that I can’t exactly let go of the ice this soon when I’ve just started loving it again.”
As he says that into the microphone, Jungwon knows that it’s the right call. There’s a proud smile on your lips, and Jungwon returns the gesture.   
The ice finally feels like home once more. But, Jungwon also realises that home is also wherever you are. 
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