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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

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[ christmas in michigan ] l. hughes

day four of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Luke Hughes x jack bsf!reader

summary : (Y/N) is forced to get along with Luke when Jack invites her to the Hughes lake house for Christmas

warning(s) : heavy makeout, some sexual content, some angst

author’s note : i have been wracking my brain to write something for luke and i have been waning to write something angsty for the fic marathon so this is how this came to be. enjoy :)

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The last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was spend Christmas at the lake house because she knew he was going to be there too. Then Jack said that he wanted her there and she can never say no to her best friend.

That's how she ended up sitting on a plane from Newark to Detroit after the Devils game between Jack and Luke. It isn't a very long plane ride but she doesn't like how close Luke is sitting to her. She tries to keep all her attention on Jack and tries to ignore Luke, but sometimes the youngest Hughes makes a comment or two because he can't seem to keep his mouth shut when (Y/N) is around.

It's not that she has something against Luke, but it seems like he does.

When he came to Newark after his Michigan season ended last season, he made his presence very known. Luke would interrupt her and Jack's hangouts or invite himself to things that they were doing. He always had a snarky comment when she was around.

(Y/N) has no idea what she did for Luke to act like this when she's around. She's just his brother's best friend. That's all she's been since Jack was drafted in 2019.

When Luke gets up to use the bathroom, she is relieved that she gets a few moments of peace. Jack decides to disrupt that peace though.

"Can you do me a favor for the next few days?" Jack asks. She knows what's coming but she looks over at her best friend. "Can you try to get along with Luke while we're at the house? I don't like when my best friend and brother fight. Makes me feel like I'm caught in the middle."

"Because you are," she replies. Jack raises his eyebrows with an 'are you kidding me' look on his face. "Fine. You owe me big time. Maybe get your little brother on the same page too. He's the one that has an issue with me. I have nothing against Luke but he has some vendetta against me when I did nothing wrong."

Before Jack can say anything else, Luke sits back down in his aisle seat. "What are we talking about?" he questions as he looks between his older brother and (Y/N).

"Nothing that concerns you," she retorts.

Luke smiles and asks, "Then why did I hear my name come out of your mouth? Miss me that much when I went to pee?"

"In your dreams, Baby Hughes," she replies. (Y/N) knows he hates being called 'Baby Hughes'.

He rolls his eyes and looks at something on his phone. He puts in his AirPods and she feels a sense of peace.

It doesn’t last very long because as soon as the plane lands at a little past one in the morning, Luke practically pushes (Y/N) off the plane.

She can’t wait to go back home to Newark.

Jack slowly drives them to the lake house because of the layer of snow and ice on the ground. (Y/N) fights Luke for the passenger seat and loses. She has to squeeze in the back seat with a bunch of bags and she is not happy at all.

Maybe she does have something against Luke Hughes. It isn’t just because he’s Jack’s annoying younger brother either. Who lets a guest sit in the backseat with three heavily packed bags because the trunk is filled with hockey gear?

Luke. That’s who.

The lake house is dark when Jack, Luke, and (Y/N) pull up. She knows that Jim and Ellen will be getting in later with Quinn since his game just ended a little bit ago. Tonight, it’s just the three of them in this house.

Jack better get his referee shirt out because it’s going to be a long few hours until Quinn, Ellen, and Jim get in.

As predicted, Luke just grabs his things and goes to his room. (Y/N) is stuck with Jack outside in the snow. She sighs and looks at the middle Hughes.

“What is his fucking problem?” (Y/N) mutters under her breath. “He’s ridiculous.”

She pulls her bag out of the car and Jack says, “He does this every time. He grabs his own stuff and leaves us out to dry. Quinn and I don’t like it either but we deal with it.”

With a light sigh, (Y/N) follows Jack into the house. The door closes behind them and the long few days begins.

“So, the guest bedroom is upstairs across from Luke’s room,” Jack tells her. She opens her mouth to object but Jack keeps talking before she gets the chance to. “I’m aware that sucks for you and I’m sorry. I know being here is the last thing you want to do because Luke is here with his stupid vendetta against you but I want my best friend here. If he causes such a problem for you, can you try to ignore him? I don’t want the two of you to fight.”

A frown forms on her face because she can tell how frustrated Jack is getting with the two of them. The last thing she wants is to upset Jack or make him pick sides between his younger brother and best friend.

“I’ll go talk to him when I’m settled, okay?” (Y/N) tells him. “Maybe you can go get food and drinks while I do that just in case a fight breaks out. I don’t want you to get in the middle.”

Jack nods and the frown on her lips is replaced with a smile. (Y/N) walks up the stairs and down the hallway to her temporary bedroom.

A door closes down the hall so she assumes Jack is in his room. Before she can close her door to unpack, she hears Luke’s voice coming from his room. A very curious (Y/N) presses her ear to Luke’s door.

“… what I’m going to do, Rut,” he’s saying when she begins listening in. He probably on the phone and Rutger McGroarty is most likely on the other side of the line. “What am I supposed to do? She has something against me when I want to pin her against something, dude. It's killing me that she's right across the hallway right now and I can't go over there and just fuck her into that mattress.”

Her eyes widen when she realizes that he’s talking about her. Quickly, she retreats across the hall and shuts her door as quietly as she can so she doesn’t alarm Luke to the fact that she heard what he said. She leans against the door with a sigh.

Confusion floods her body. If Luke wants to fuck her then why does he constantly act like she’s this a person when he can just … fuck her? He constantly pushes her away or says something that annoys her.

She isn’t blind. He’s atttactive and she wouldn’t be totally against it. It just never occurred to her that he would want to sleep with her considering the way he acts when she’s around. The way he’d completely cover her since he is so big and she’s so tiny. How he could probably get her to come with just-

A door shutting downstairs brings her out of her head before that thought could get away from her. She blinks a few times when she realizes what she was about to think about. She hears a car pull out of the driveway and watches the lights disappear down the street.

Frustration floods her entire body when she can't understand why Luke keeps acting like this when he feels completely different. She charges across the hallway to get answers.

(Y/N) pounds on Luke’s bedroom door. “Luke Hughes!” she shouts. “Open the door.” She doesn’t care if he’s still on the phone with Rutger.

"I'm on the phone," he calls back.

She pushes open the door and her eyes fall on Luke, who lays on his bed. "You are the most confusing and irritating person I think I have ever met," she spits at him. He looks at her with wide eyes when she bursts into the room. "I mean, why can't you just man up and tell me exactly how you feel instead of treating me like shit whenever you're around me? It's exhausting."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're not quiet when you talk on the phone," she tells him. "I heard you on the phone with Rutger when I came upstairs to unpack." She watches his jaw drop and eyes practically pop out of his head. "Yeah. I heard what you said to him. Something about how you think I have something against you, when I don't by the way. What else did I hear you say? About how you wish you could've come across the hallway and fucked me into the mattress. Yeah. I think that's what I heard."

Luke quickly hangs up the phone and sits up. "Who said I was talking about you?" he questions.

"I'm the only one across the hallway from you, dumbass," she retorts. She runs her fingers through her hair with a deep sigh as soon begins to get out of bed. "If you want to fuck me, then tell me. Be a big boy and put on your big boy pants and-"

As she talks, Luke stomps over and cuts her off by crashing his lips to her in a rough kiss. His hand is on the back of her neck and his fingers curl into her hair so she doesn't go anywhere.

It's a wet and filthy kiss from the beginning, but it catches her off guard so she has to push herself away from him so she can wrap her head around what just happened. She doesn’t get very far because of his hand on the back of her neck.

Fear flashes in Luke's eyes for a split second, but she is so close that she was able to see it. She feels guilty that she pushed him away like that. “If you didn’t want me to do that, I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she snaps. She takes a sharp breath. “Just give me a second, okay?”

He nods and loosens his grip in her hair so she can back away if she wants. She doesn’t move though.

She stares up at him and thinks about how bad of an idea this would be. Sleeping with her best friend’s younger brother is a terrible idea, especially when Luke has been nothing but rude and annoying toward her.

That just means that no one will probably know what has happened between them.

(Y/N) licks her bottom lip before she gets on her toes to bring their lips together in another hot kiss. Luke seems surprised by this kiss but he does hesitate in returning it.

Her heart races in her chest. This was the last thing she thought would ever happen between them.

The two of them have been at each other’s throats for years. Now they’re kissing like it’s what they’ve wanted to do the entire time.

Maybe it has been the entire time for Luke. She can’t say that she hasn’t had a thought here or there about getting with the youngest Hughes brother. If anything to break the obvious tension between them.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, (Y/N) grasps at the t-shirt Luke is wearing. She pulls him flush against her body and she feels something poke her upper thigh. A small smile forms on her lips.

“You got a hot dog in your pocket or something?” she asks between kisses.

“Shut up,” Luke snaps. “I don’t carry food in my pocket, you asshole.”

“Then you really must’ve wanted me.”

“You have no idea.”

Those words cause her heart to jump in her chest while Luke leans down and picks her up. He’s nearly a foot taller than her so it can’t be very comfortable for him to kiss her. She wraps her legs around his waist.

She attaches her lips to his jaw and carefully kisses the sensitive skin. “You better not leave a mark,” Luke warns her. “I don’t want to explain to my brothers that you turned into a vampire or something.”

To spite him, (Y/N) softly nips at his jaw. Luke turns and drops her on the mattress. She stares up and finds that his swollen lips and wide does just does something for her.

“Get down here, Hughes,” she tells him. “Need you.”

Almost like he was waiting for her to say that, Luke crawls into the bed and hovers over her. Their lips reattach in a filthy kiss that almost causes her to plead for more.

He pulls away and looks down at her. She finds herself chasing his lips. “You’re okay with this?” Luke asks. “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“Luke, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, I’m going to get out of your bed and go across the hall to do it myself,” she tells him. “Fuck me like you hate me.”

A sly smirk forms on his face and she knows she’s in for it until Jack gets back.

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Three orgasms in less than two hours had to be some kind of record. Her body still shakes as Luke cleans her up. She’s completely spent.

He definitely fucked her like he hated her. She’s worried that she might not be able to walk in the morning. The only reason there wasn’t a fourth orgasm was because she heard Jack pull into the driveway.

“If you need to stay for a few minutes, you can,” Luke tells her. “I can go distract Jack until you leave.”

She nods and Luke begins to get dressed. He throws on the clothes he wore when he got here. Her eyes stay on him for a second before she says, “We need to talk about this, Luke. I don’t want this to turn into a fight that we can’t get past.”

Luke looks over as she sits up and secures the blankets under her arms. The tension has broken between them and she doesn’t want something to form after this.

He comes over to her side of the bed that she’s occupying. It catches her very off guard when he leans down and presses a soft yet chaste kiss to her already swollen lips. She raises her eyebrows and looks up at him. She probably looks very confused.

“Hope that explains how I feel,” he tells her as he stands back up. “We’ll talk about it, but right now you need to get across the hall before Jack catches you naked in my bed. I’m not sure I’m ready to explain this to him. I’m sure you aren’t either.”

She shakes her head. “Come across the hall tonight,” she suggests. “We can talk then, yeah?”

Luke smiles and nods before he leaves her alone. There are footsteps on the stairs and voices coming from the living room. (Y/N) sighs and falls back against the pillow that’s under her head.

It would be a lie if she thought that Luke didn’t rock her entire world for the last two hours. He absolutely did, and she wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Maybe not as rough next time.

Very slowly, (Y/N) begins to get dressed. She’s shaky on her legs but she manages to get her clothes in without falling over.

Much to her luck, Jack and Luke are walking down the hallway when she leaves Luke’s room. Jack freezes when he sees her. She forces a smile as she looks between the two Hughes boys. “Hi.”

Jack looks up at his brother. “You hurt her and I will send Nico after you,” he tells Luke. “I swear to God, Luke.”

Her eyes widen and a smile forms on Luke’s lips. Jack definitely put two and two together because of how red Luke’s lips are and the fact that she is walking out of Luke’s room.

Walking is a stretch though. Limping is more like it.

“I’ll never hurt her,” Luke replies. “Again.” He looks at a nervous (Y/N) standing in front of Luke’s room. “I’d kick myself if I ever hurt her.”

The nervousness she was feeling melts away and she smiles.

Christmas in Michigan no longer sounds like the worst thing in the world.

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taglist : @dancerbailey3 @dasiysthings @axaslee

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #luke hughes #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #malia’s christmas marathon

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kithj · 5 months

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compiled a list of some of my favorite text-based games & VNs that are specifically wlw:

another round - You play as Maddie, a woman in love with a woman named Agnes. Actually, she hates her. Actually, it's complicated. You definitely broke things off with her. And you don't regret it. At least once. Yes. At least once per day, you don't regret ending it with Agnes. Except tonight. You definitely regret it tonight.

such, such were the joys - It is the year 19xx in England. You are returning to the town of Grayling after your first year at university to meet your old school friends: Cicily Thomas, Fatima Khan, and Susheela Rajaram. As the only Indian girls at Grayling Towers, the four of you quickly became close friends, but you haven't seen each other in a year. You're not sure what has changed since then, but this is your chance to find out.

florence - Florence lies in bed, cold and still. You watch over her and wait.

perseids, or, all this will go on forever - Four trans girlfriends go on a road trip to a dark sky park, to see the perseid meteor shower.

winter - an interactive fiction about sex, trans insecurity, and a girl with a skull for a face.

butterfly soup 1 & 2 (VN) - A visual novel about gay Asian girls playing baseball and falling in love.

birdland - At night 14-year-old Bridget Leaside dreams of fantastic lands full of strange bird people. By day she's a miserable anxious summer camper, trying very hard not to think about her feelings for the mysterious girl detective in Cabin 22. And when her dream life starts bleeding into reality, things are going to get weird for her in a whole bunch of ways...

a summer's end: hong kong 1986 (VN) - Follow the story of Michelle and Sam, and how their chance meeting evolves into a deeper romantic relationship. Set in vibrant Hong Kong in the year 1986, it is an original story about love, family, and culture.

one day hike - You go on a hike in a familiar wood.

a year of springs (VN) - experience the stories of haru, erika, and manami in A YEAR OF SPRINGS, a visual novel trilogy about a trio of friends navigating their feelings of love, connection, and just wanting to belong.

pageant - Your name is Qiuyi (Karen?) Zhao, and you’ve just been signed up by your parents for a beauty pageant. You’re not ready, not even close, but you don’t have a choice. But perhaps you can make the best of it.

new year's eve, 2019 (sequel to pageant) - You are Karen Zhao, a senior in college who is home for winter break, and seeing your old high school friends for the first time in years. You are not ready, not even close, but perhaps you could make the best of it.

the revenant's lament - Way out west, in the most lonesome of reaches, strange things are afoot. Cowboys around campfires tell ghost stories and tall tales, speak of impossible, supernatural things. They say the devil walks amongst men. They say he'll grant you impossible wishes at the cost of your eternal soul. They say he can bring dead men back to life.

venus meets venus - Two women meet in a bar. This is not a love story.

#yes i put my own game on this list. sue me #anyways i know there are like a billion yuri games on itchio so this is a highly curated list #excluding dating sims and yuri VNs cus they're incredibly easy to find like just go in the yuri tag lmfao #interactive fiction #games #also most of the creators on this list have more games too that i recommend #draw everything here that's me and you (?) something like that by kaleidofish #anamika has quite a few games besides florence and such such were the joys #there's another sequel to pageant and new years 2019 & the archivist by autumn chen #npckc has a shit ton of games lmfao #there are some sequels to birdland too but ive never played any of those #communistsister has a massive catalogue of games and collabs with domino club #anyways. these are just some of my favorite creators #and some of their games that i really liked #i might add on to this but im having a hard time focusing to read games lately i only just finally read revenant's lament last night #so i could put it here. brigid your game will haunt me forever (affectionate)

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why4anne · 6 months

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Racing Hearts

Part: 1

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Word-count: 2k

Summary: F1 prodigy Y/N L/N finds herself with an unexpected crush on NHL sensation Jack Hughes.

Face claim: Madison Beer + others

Masterlist

“Do I have to do this interview?” I asked my media manager. I had just arrived at my hotel in Canada and apparently I had been scheduled for an Interview in an hour. “Yes, Y/N, you have to do this interview. The other guest has already flown out early to do this interview before the race-weekend starts and it will look really bad if you don’t show up” Sarah has been my media manager since I moved to F1 at the age of 19, which was 3 years ago and she was more than used to my antics by now.

“What is it even about?” I asked as I switched my attention from my phone to fully look at her.

“It’s something about 2 stars at the age of 22 or something. The other guest is Jack Hughes, a hockey player in the NHL” Sarah looked at her notes as she said this.

“Hockey player?” I asked, exasperated.”Sarah, I know nothing about hockey! What are we even going to talk about?”

“Don’t worry, the interviewer will make sure everything goes smoothly. You just have to sit there, smile and answer the questions.” It was obvious that she was fed up with my whining at this point so I decided to shut my mouth.

An hour and a half later I found myself in a white room with three mics standing on a table. I greeted a guy named Evan who was the host of the podcast that the interview was for and sat down in my seat, waiting for this other guy to show up.

Five minutes later I was making small talk with the host as the door opened and a man with light brown hair walked in and fuck was he hot. I found myself staring at him as he shook hands with Evan. I could clearly see his biceps under his white t-shirt and I would be lying if I said that they were small. But, before I could look for longer I found him in front of me with his hand outstretched. I quickly pulled myself out of my daydream and stood up to greet him.

“What’s up, I’m Jack” He introduced himself, his mannerisms and way of talking all screamed cool boy, which was very different from the pampered rich boys who were the majority of the people in racing.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” I answered with a polite smile and shook his hand, locking eyes with him as I did so. I noticed how blue they were.

“Alright, if you both feel up for it I think we should get going” Evan interrupted our moment.

“Sounds good” Jack agreed and we both took our seats.

“Welcome back to the Sport podcast, today we are joined by not one, but two special guests. We have hockey superstar Jack Hughes, a 22 year old center of the New Jersey Devils. He was drafted first overall in 2019 and has just come off a career high season with 99 points and a playoff run.” Evan introduced Jack to the podcast and I couldn’t help but be impressed with his stats. My knowledge in hockey may be limited but the way that Evan was describing him made him sound like a really good player

“Hey” Jack said into the mic. I couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness .

“And we also have F1 protege Y/N L/N. She is currently the youngest driver on the grid but don’t be fooled, she’d been tearing up the grid for 3 years now and is currently looking like she might become the youngest World Champion in Formula 1 history, bringing the championship back to Ferrari for the first time since 2007.” Evan moved on to me.

“Ah, Evan, don’t jinx it” I smiled, all of my media training on the forefront of my mind and after years of this I would say that I’m quite skilled at the media game.

“Just keeping it real,” Evan chuckled. “Now, how much do you guys know about each other?”

Both me and Jack looked at each other, seeing who was going to answer first.

“Well, to be completely honest, I don’t know a lot about hockey so I’m kind of going into this interview completely blind, sorry” I admitted, feeling kind of bad for my lack of knowledge.

“No worries, I bet that you’re busy, " Jack reassured me. “I would say I’m a casual F1 fan, like I know the top teams and drivers”

"That's fair," I replied with a friendly smile. "I'm sure we can still have an interesting conversation, even if we're not experts in each other's fields."

Evan nodded in agreement and continued, "Absolutely, it's all about getting to know each other better and sharing some insights from your respective worlds. So, Jack, tell us, what's it like being a professional hockey player in the NHL?"

Jack leaned forward, his easygoing smile making him even more charming. "Being in the NHL has been a dream come true for me. It's intense, the competition is fierce, and the fans are incredibly passionate. There's nothing quite like stepping onto the ice in front of a packed arena. You feel the energy and the pressure, but that's what makes it all so exciting."

I listened to Jack's response with genuine interest, even though I had limited knowledge about hockey. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm that it was easy to understand why he had such a successful career in the sport.

Evan then turned to me and asked, "Y/N, can you share with us what it's like being an F1 driver, especially at such a young age?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding, "Well, Formula 1 is an incredibly challenging and fast-paced sport with high pressure on the drivers and teams. As a driver, you have to be physically and mentally prepared for each race and you have to put up the results if you want to stay. I mean, there are only 20 seats in the entire world and if you’re not performing there is always another driver who will. I think going into it so young was both a blessing and a curse. It definitely put more attention on me as a driver, but at the same time I kind of got a head start.”

Jack nodded in understanding as I spoke. "Yeah, I can imagine the pressure, especially at such a young age. I mean, you're literally racing against some of the best drivers in the world. It must be quite the experience."

I appreciated his understanding, and I was starting to feel more at ease with the conversation. "Absolutely, and it's a constant learning process. But it's also incredibly rewarding when you have those moments of success and achieve your goals."

Evan jumped in, keeping the conversation flowing smoothly. "It's clear that both of you have a deep passion for your respective sports. What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced in your careers so far?"

Jack took a moment to reflect before answering, "One of the biggest challenges in my career has been dealing with injuries. Hockey can be a rough sport, and I've had my fair share of injuries that required a lot of rehab and patience. But it's part of the game, and it's made me stronger both physically and mentally."

I nodded in agreement, "In F1, the physical and mental demands are also immense. The travel schedule, the constant competition, and the pressure to perform can take a toll. Plus, adapting to different tracks and conditions is a unique challenge in itself. And, of course, there's the challenge of dealing with the media and public expectations."

Evan acknowledged our responses, "It's clear that both of your careers come with their own set of challenges, and yet you've managed to rise to the top of your respective sports. What advice would you give to young athletes aspiring to reach the level of success that you've achieved?"

Jack leaned in and said, "I'd say that dedication and hard work are essential. You have to be willing to put in the hours, stay committed to your training, and never give up, no matter how tough it gets. Surround yourself with a supportive team and use setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow."

I added, "I completely agree with Jack. In addition, I'd say it's important to keep a clear vision of your goals and stay focused. Stay true to your passion and love for the sport because that's what will drive you to overcome the challenges. And never forget that setbacks are part of the journey; they make the successes even more rewarding."

Jack nodded in agreement with my response. "That's some great advice, Y/N. Having a clear vision and staying passionate about what you do is crucial in any career, especially in sports."

Evan smiled and continued, "Thank you both for sharing your insights and experiences. It's clear that you're both dedicated and passionate individuals in your respective fields, and your advice is valuable for anyone striving for success. Now, before we wrap up, let's have a little fun. How about a rapid-fire round of questions for each of you?"

Jack and I exchanged amused glances, ready for the challenge. Evan fired off a series of questions, alternating between us.

"Favorite pre-game ritual?"

Jack answered first, "Listening to music that gets me pumped up."

I followed, "Visualizing the entire race, corner by corner, in my mind."

"Favorite post-game or post-race meal?"

Jack grinned, "Pizza, no doubt."

I chuckled, "A plate of pasta."

"Most memorable career moment so far?"

Jack's eyes lit up, "Scoring my first NHL goal. It was a dream come true."

I shared, "Winning my first F1 race. It was an unforgettable feeling."

As the rapid-fire questions continued, Jack and I found ourselves sharing more personal insights and even some lighthearted stories. We learned about our favorite travel destinations, hobbies outside of our respective sports, and our sources of inspiration.

The interview had transitioned from a professional exchange to a more relaxed and friendly conversation. Jack's charismatic and easygoing personality made it easy to connect, and I found myself genuinely enjoying our interaction. We even exchanged a few friendly jokes along the way, creating a comfortable atmosphere in the studio.

Evan, our host, couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the chemistry between us. "It's clear that you two are getting along great."

Jack nodded with a playful grin, "Yeah! Maybe we'll see Y/N at a hockey game one day."

I laughed, "Well, my media manager told me you’re attending the Canadian Grand Prix this weekend. Maybe I will see you in the Ferrari garage."

Jack chuckled, "I'll be sure to swing by the Ferrari garage and show some support. Maybe you can give me a crash course in F1"

I grinned at the idea. "Deal! And I'll make sure to catch a New Jersey Devils game when the opportunity arises. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about hockey."

The interview wrapped up and Jack and I exchanged one last friendly smile.

"It was a pleasure, Jack. I’ll see you at the Grand Prix this weekend, I’ll be the one in red" I joked as we said goodbye.

Jack chuckled, "I'm looking forward to it. And if you ever want to catch a hockey game, just give me a call."

I chuckled, "I might just take you up on that offer. Best of luck with your season, Jack."

Jack flashed a warm smile as he nodded. "You too, Y/N. Good luck this weekend."

We both exchanged contact information and made plans to meet up during the Grand Prix this weekend. It was unexpected, but I had enjoyed our conversation, and I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Jack again.

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, jackhughes and 1 242 635 others

yourusername: I had a blast on @/Sports_People today. Go check out their latest episode "Two stars under 22", where @/jackhughes and I delve into our experiences in sports.

view comments:

Sports_People: Such a great episode, thanks for joining us!

liked by yourusername

jackhughes: I had a great time! See you this weekend

- yourusername: I'll be the one in red!😜

holly_hockey: My two faves together? Yes please!

ferrarimorris: I'll be at the race on Sunday, hope you win! Forza Ferrari!

jackhugheswifeyyy: Of course she's pretty aswell, my chances are getting slimmer by the minute🤧

- caufieldsonfire: she's a brunette, don't worry

curiousgeorge: Move to McLaren please! We need youuuu!!🙏💀

#racing hearts au!#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #formula 1 #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl #f1 fanfic #f1 #why4anne #Jack Hughes x F1 driver #hockey #Jack Hughes x F1 driver reader #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine

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sincerelymarner · 3 months

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i love u hockey nepotism <3

i just think hockey connections are neat and the hughes have a lot. so here's a noncomphrehensive review of their connections (as it relates to their teams) through their dad jim. and this also kinda doubles as a background about him.

so jim hughes grew up on long island and has many ties to the area, hence the “comin home” comment from luke during jack’s draft and jack’s walk up song being “i’m coming home”.

currently jim is a director of player development at CAA hockey (2016-) and previously was the director of player development for the leafs (2009-15). he also has 20 years of coaching experience which has brought him to new jersey, orlando, boston, new hampshire, and toronto. but before all this, he played hockey at providence college (1985-89) which is where he overlapped with tom fitzgerald, current president of hockey operations and gm of the devils, for two years. if you were ever curious why jim and ellen were seated next to the gm of jack and luke’s team at brady tkachuk’s wedding, now you know.

jim hughes 1985

in fact, jim was a huge factor in why fitzgerald attended providence as jim hosted him for his recruiting trip. during jim’s time at providence, he was represented by ray shero who was the gm for the devils from 2015-20.

devils GM ray shero meeting with the hughes family at the 2019 nhl draft

while jim was an assistant coach with the orlando sun bears (1999-2001), he became acquainted with head coach peter horachek who was a scout for the devils in 2019 and is currently an assistant coach for them.

jim hughes (left) is in this photo, idk if peter horachek is but this from when the solar bears won the turner cup and that's how the photo of jack in a cup came about

after orlando jim had been named as an assistant coach for the bruins (2001-03) and that’s where he met, then head coach, robbie ftorek, who became a close family friend. following his tenure with boston he went to new hampshire where he was assistant coach for the manchester monarchs (2003-05) under previous canucks’ head coach bruce boudreau. when jim became head coach (2005-06), his assistant coach was derek clancy who is currently an assistant gm for the leafs and previously was one for the canucks.

pretend that derek clancy is here with him (well he is, just off screen)

then settled in toronto as an assistant coach for the marlies, then as director of player development for the leafs. here jim and the boys got to know leafs legend willy nylander.

not at all connected to the boys’ teams i just wanted to include this photo, sue me

again, this is a noncomprehensive review and there is probably so much i missed, but i wanted to put this together for reference.

↳ info taken mostly from this the athletic article and this sportsnet article + some supplementary sources such as elite prospects

#don't know how i never connected that jim hughes would've been with the leafs at the same time as mitch #btw the title is a joke !!#jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jim hughes #i spent the time i was supposed to study on this. bro im failing that test💀#mere.txt #*h

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toasttt11 · 2 months

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in another life

April 28, 2019

Clementine was leaning up against a wall around her IIHF U18 Team having completed the tournament early in the day and they were all hanging out in a empty hotel room, some playing cards or poker, some all huddling with their phones, a few half asleep on the floor, and some just talking and eating.

Clementine was leaning against the wall looking out the window showing the city of Sweden, she tensed as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder before she smelt the cologne and slightly relaxed.

“Well hello gorgeous.” Braden Schneider greeted her with his flirty smirk.

“Schneider.” Clementine deadpanned, she has known him for a few years now, playing him multiple times a year in the WHL and being teammates for Team Canada and they have the same NHL draft class.

“Aww, no smile for me.” Braden sadly pouted poking at her cheek making her bit her lip to stop her smile hating how he has grown on her over the years, “I saw that.” He smugly grinned at his favorite girl.

“Shut up.” Clementine grumbled crossing her arms over her chest but not moving away from his arm.

“Never.” Braden promised with a smile looking around before discreetly pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, “I will see you later Clemsy.” Braden winked at her and is the only one to call her that.

Clementine cursed in her mind as she felt her cheeks grow hot.

Jamie Drysdale happened to see the interaction between his two teammates and walked over giving his friend a look.

“James don’t.” Clementine gave him a stern look back. Clementine and Jamie had quickly become quick friends within the first time they met and they seemed to just click.

“I wasn’t going to.” Jamie innocently smiled holding his hands up in defense.

“Mhm.” Clementine hummed not believing a word he said, knowing Jamie is very sweet but also looks very innocent meaning he easily gets away with anything.

October 6, 2020

Clementine was watching the rest of the draft after getting drafted number one to the New Jersey Devils.

She sat on the couch watching it with Connor as the rest of her family was outside celebrating still.

“The New York Rangers are proudly to select Braden Schneider.”

Clementine perked up slightly at the name and clapped with a small smile getting a teasing look from her younger brother which she ignored.

She pulled up her phone pulling up her texts with Braden, “Looks like we are rivals again.” She texted and shut off her phone letting out a chuckle at the coincidence.

The two having been rivals the last three seasons and now they are drafted to the two teams that have one of the biggest rivals in the NHL.

“It’s fate Clemsy :).” Braden texted back the second he had a free second and smiled at Clementine texting him.

Connor made kissing sounds seeing his sister smiling at her phone, Clementine elbowed him giving him a look, “Do not be a brat.”

Connor just smiled shaking his head.

December 19, 2020

Clementine put her hotel key against the door for her hotel room for the WJC and walked into the room and saw the bathroom light on and door closed and knew it was her roommate, she didn’t know who it would be but she only had a few people that rooms with her so she didn’t bother to find out exactly who it was.

She set her bags down on the floor next to the empty bed not hearing the bathroom door open and someone walk up behind her only when she felt arms wrap around her waist to spin her around.

She froze for a second before hearing an all familiar laugh and she relaxed into the backwards hug as he spun them around before setting her back down on the ground.

Clementine spun around turning to face Braden who was staring at her with a smile across his face, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him into a hug.

Braden smiled wider and hugged her tightly back.

The two started getting closer or rather Clementine started accepting her feelings for him and over the last nine months of being in quarantine they have facetimed and texted a lot and got a lot closer than they already were.

“Hi.” Braden whispered cupping her face, looking at her with a fond smile.

“Hi.” Clementine whispered back with a smile before she bit her lip and leaned up on her toes pressing her lips to his, Braden hand moved down to the lower of her back pulling her closer to him.

“Took you long enough.” Braden teased panting slightly as they pulled back.

“Shut up.” Clementine fondly rolled eyes whispering against his lips.

“Gladly.” Braden whispered before pressing his lips back against hers.

November 23, 2021

Clementine and Braden officially got together after they saw each other again at the WJC at the end of 2020 and their families weren’t surprised when they finally got together, they both kept their relationship private only family and some friends knowing not wanting anyone in their private life.

They loved being in a relationship and the two just fit each other so well, especially as Braden just seemed to bring out a more silly side of Clementine and they both experienced their first relationship.

But it was difficult, Clementine being in the NHL and having her rookie year and living in New Jersey and Braden switching between the AHL and WHL never having any time to see each other besides in the summer and they both knew it couldn’t work out forever.

He came to visit her for a few days having gotten a few days off and luckily so did Clementine.

Clementine rested her arm againt his bare arm laying in silence covered by a silk sheet feeling the slight cool chill in the room, Braden fingers were tracing her spine.

“I’m sorry.” Clementine whispered, she wanted a relationship to work with Braden, she really did. He was her first in a lot and she never regretted anything but she regretted how they just seemed to not be able to work out and how it just wasn’t easy.

“I’m sorry too Clemsy.” Braden kissed the top of her head, not only was she someone he had fallen in love with but she had become his best friend over the years and he hated that no matter how hard they tried they knew it wouldn’t work out between them.

They both deserved an amazing relationship and be treated the way they deserved and being in a long distance relationship and having schedules that don’t aline made it very difficult for that to happen.

“You are so gorgeous and i was lucky to be able to love you and to get the chance to be loved by you. You’re gonna find someone that it’s just easy with.” Braden held her face in his hands memorizing everything up close in case he never gets the chance again.

“And you are a totally asshole but you’re kind and funny and seem to light up a room no matter what, anyone will be luckily to have you B.” Clementine whispered back giving him a small sad smile and resting her forehead against his. Braden let out a small sad laugh.

They knew in another life they would’ve of worked out.

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heldisrps · 9 months

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wikimb · 8 months

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Devil Trigger 3.0 for Michael!

A 3rd attempt at designing his DT since 2021 when I made Michael (or rather revived and remade/fleshed out his character from a DMC fanfiction written in 2019...).

I could explain in length the ideas behind this DT, why such a theme, why so... tall. The ramble includes serious explanation of the origins of demonic powers he has as well. If you like to read about it then just check what's under the cut.

Below you have some drawings of his face and also his brother's (name's Gabriel) reaction to his DT form. Michael was more scared of Gabriel's reaction than he actually was and the relief he felt was quite overwhelming.

More in depth below. It includes links to the 2 older versions of his DT for fun comparison.

The theme of his DT is very birdy. The first time I designed his DT it was rather heavily inspired by pre-existing DT designs of our main characters. Nothing wrong with it but it didn't stand out and I also never really vibed with it. It didn't help that I had no experience with any kind of monster design to begin with. I still kinda don't but I can see I got slightly better seeing the 3rd version of his DT. You can check my 1st and 2nd attempts here.

Anyway there are a bit more specific reasons why it's so birdy-looking or angelic-looking (and not just because of his name). Michael was born a human in a family, which was never exposed to anything demon-related. They didn't know demons existed (to a degree... when it comes to his father but I think that'd deserve a separate post as his backstory is a bit wild and how it affected Michael in the end).

As a teenager he got lured into a cult and manipulated into abandoning his family eventually. He didn’t know how evil the cult was and didn't even realize they were a cult to begin with.

It was a cult worshipping Mundus with a leader being one his generals. Her name was Lilith and she was great at making Michael feel that she truly cared for him like a mother figure. She manipulated him into believing his family didn't care for him. Sadly, it was all a game and ever since he escaped the cult, he deals with a lot of guilt and regret. He is not sure if they're even still alive... and if they're dead... what if it's his fault?

The cult's purpose was to turn humans into demons, who would serve Mundus. To ensure that they were forced to undergo a ritual stripping them of all of their humanity, their human personality and replace all of that with Mundus overwhelming power. The power, which was great but taking away all of their free will they could have. These people were technically demons at this point. If the ritual failed then it was usually fatal. Thing is, the ritual was a stolen concept from the time when Lilith infiltrated Fortuna's Order of the Sword. In a way she influenced Agnus to come up with such a ritual, then she took the idea and modified it a bit.

Michael's case could be qualified as a failed ritual after, which he should have died but the amount of demonic power he received was not big enough to kill him (because human body would be able not to handle more) but instead keep him alive. And as a result it continued transforming/mutating him into a demon-hybrid like Dante or Vergil, but artificial.

Even if using demoning powers was causing various unpleasant side effects for him but with each use, it hurt less and less. He was reluctant to use his powers actively, fearing that they could make him loose his humanity. He still used the passive abilities such as sensing demon magic.

After certain events he unlocked his Devil Trigger. As a side note I do have 2 ideas for what these moments were but for now I am not sure which one is better.

Anyway, yes, Michael underwent a modified version of Ascension Ceremony! That's why he has such an angelic look, just like the guys from Fortuna. The demonic powers are originating from Mundus but failed to take away his free will, his personality, his humanity, his memories. In other words, he is the same like before - just juiced up with Mundus power (which he is afraid to use anyway). Certainly a result which a Demon Lord would actually hate to find out about as it has a potential to backfire. Not like he has to "worry" about three Sparda descendants already. But if you saw Mundus himself, he also looks rather angelic too. Or at least that "statue form" if that orange weird blob is meant to be really him.

Compared to DTs already seen, he is quite massive. I think it can be simply a feature of Mundus power, in which Devil Trigger state makes one much larger than in human form. Mundus is a titan-sized demon himself, while Sparda was shown to be rather human sized. Heh, maybe if Michael had Sin Devil Trigger form then he could be Mundus-sized.

Though, Michael has the ability to go Berserk (but it's not controlled by his will and it triggers under strong distress), which enhances his power in human form and in DT form. It manifests as blue fire instead of orange fire. Maybe Berserk DT can get this big maybe. Could wrestle demons like Goliath then xD

#devil may cry 5 #dude #aka michael #original character #oc #dmc oc

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astranva · 2 years

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Wikipedia Page

Planet Evans!Universe Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: pe!reader’s wikipedia page.

Y/N Y/L/N-Evans (born *birth month and day*, 1988) is a(n) *your choice of nationality* actress. The world’s highest-paid actress from 2010 to 2022, her films have grossed $9 billion worldwide to date. She appeared in Time’s 100 most influential people in the world in 2010 to 2019 and Forbes Celebrity 100 list from 2009 to 2022.

During her childhood, Y/L/N-Evans performed at local theatres until she was cast as the lead for Spy Kids at the age of 13, making the film trilogy her debut which gained her public attention. Y/L/N-Evans is an EGOT winner (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony). She is a 3-time Academy Award winner, 4-time Golden Globes winner, 1-time Grammy award winner for Best Spoken Word Album (Including Poetry, Audiobooks & Storytelling) for being the official narrator of Where The Crawdads Sing (2018) by Delia Owens, and 3-time Emmy award winner, along with multiple and numerous nominations.

Her role as the committed dancer who struggles to maintain her sanity in Black Swan as Nina, won her the Academy Award for Best Actress, making her the fourth-youngest winner at the category at the age of 23. She also won the BAFTA Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role for the same movie, along with her role as Amy Dune from Gone Girl.

Y/L/N-Evans then again won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her role as Tiffany from Silver Linings Playbook, and her role as Cassandra in Promising Young Woman, along with Golden Globes award for Best Actress for the same roles.

Y/L/N-Evans identifies as feminist and children’s rights activist. In 2014, she founded Wish You Well Foundation, which advocates for children’s rights, wellbeing, as well as provides foster care for abused children.

Early life and education

Y/N Y/L/N-Evans was born on *birth month and day* in 1988, to *mom’s name*, a vet, and *dad’s name*, a trucker. She has one younger step-sister from her mother whom she constantly speaks about. Growing up, she was raised in an abusive household as it was later stated that her father was “hardly ever sober” and “physically violent” before her mother ran away with her when she was 10 years old.

Growing up, Y/L/N-Evans was fond of acting and costume design, and had often used her mother’s clothes and gave shows to her family from a very young age. She was a leading actress in her school drama plays throughout her academic journey.

Y/L/N-Evans was 12 when she was discovered by a talent scout who had watched her perform at a local theatre, later getting the role as Carmen Cortez in the Spy Kids trilogy alongside Antonio Banderas, although the actress appeared as “tie-dye girl” in The Parent Trap (1998) when she was 10 years old.

Career

Early roles and breakthrough (2001-2005)

Y/L/N-Evans began acting in local theatres before landing the role of Carmen Cortez in Spy Kids in 2001, aged 13, making it her debut film as well as debut trilogy. The trilogy received praise and public recognition, and Y/L/-Evans was praised by critics for having “a bright future ahead.”

At the age of 16, she was cast as the voice actor of Violet Parr, the eldest child of Bob and Helen Parr from Walt Disney’s The Incredibles (2004), who is born with the superhuman ability to render herself invisible, as well as generate force fields.

Y/L/N-Evans’s breakthrough role came in James McTeigue’s V for Vendetta (2005). The film features her as a young woman who gets involved in V’s life when he rescues her from a gang of London’s secret police. Y/L/N-Evans shaved her hair in a single take for the movie. Although the actress didn’t receive an Academy or Golden Globes award for her role, she was nominated for both and won many other awards for the role, as well as she received nothing but praise from critics and her acting wage was raised in the industry.

Worldwide recognition (2005-2012)

In 2006, Y/L/N-Evans took the role of Andy Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada by David Frankel, alongside Meryl Streep. The movie won her public appeal, as well as went down in history of “must watch” movies to date.

At the age of only 19, she took the role of Cecilia Tallis in Atonement (2007) by Joe Wright, portraying the lead and love interest of James McAvoy.

In 2009, Y/L/N-Evans took the role of Neytiri in $2.8 billion movie, Avatar (2009) which had made her the youngest highest-paid actress in the world.

It was in 2010, when Y/L/N-Evans, aged 22, was the talk of every critic, media platform and tabloid when she took the role of Nina Sayers in Black Swan, giving her her first Academy Award, Golden Globes Award, and BAFTA awards all for Best Actress.

The young actress then won the same awards again the following year for her performance as a troubled young widow in the romance film Silver Linings Playbook (2012), making her the highest-grossing lead actress in the world.

Established actress (2013-present)

The actress since then starred in high-grossing movies, including Gone Girl (2014), Inside Out (2015), Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), Bohemian Rhapsody (2018), Promising Young Woman (2020).

Y/L/N-Evans’s directorial debut was Lady Bird (2017), starring Soarise Ronan, Timothee Chalamet, and Laurie Metcalf. She was nominated for Academy Award for Best Director.

She then later was cast as June Osborne from The Handmaid’s Tale (2017), a woman who was captured while attempting to escape to Canada with her husband, Luke, and daughter, Hannah. Because Luke is divorced, their union is considered adulterous in this new society. June is considered an adulteress and their daughter, Hannah, is deemed illegitimate. Due to June's fertility, she is made a Handmaid to Commander Fred Waterford and his wife, Serena Joy as "Offred", and later to Commander Joseph Lawrence as "Ofjoseph". Y/L/N-Evans won 2 Primetime Emmy awards of Best Actress in a Leading Role for her performance.

In 2019, Y/L/N-Evans starred as Dani in Midsommar by Ari Aster, featuring a traumatized psychology student who's in a dysfunctional relationship that leads her to a midsummer festival that turns out to be that of a sinister cult. The role granted her not only praise, but public sympathy as the actress had said it was “an experience I [Y/N Y/L/N-Evans] needed to heal from.”

Personal Life

In 2007, Y/L/N-Evans was rumored to be in a relationship with a high school friend, Dean Tyler, but there was no confirmation.

From 2008 to 2011, Y/L/N-Evans was in a long-term relationship with, then, assistant director of Atonement (2007), Avi Newt. The two still follow each other.

While filming The Spectacular Now (2013) in 2012, she met Miles Teller, and the two got into a relationship which they went public with in February of 2013 when they were photographed kissing.

The couple was together from December 2012 to September of 2014, with Y/L/N-Evans confirming the breakup to a fan but saying “he’s an amazing person. It was mutual.” The two continue to be friends.

In March of 2014, Y/L/N-Evans met–now–husband, Chris Evans at Vanity Fair’s Oscars afterparty, with the latter saying in an interview that it was “a dream come true” to meet the successful actress.

It was in November of 2014 when they met again at a private party, hosted by Christopher and Jonathan Nolan in celebration of Interstellar’s release. Sources said that they spent the entire party together and exchanged phone numbers that night.

It wasn’t until November 2015 that the couple had gotten into a relationship and a month later, went public by getting photographed holding hands, kissing, and sharing laughs.

In June 2018, Chris Evans proposed and the couple announced their engagement through Instagram. They later got married in June 2019.

In June 2022, the couple announced that they are expecting their first child.

On September 25th, the couple announced the birth of River Jude Evans and Y/L/N-Evans announced an indefinite career break and leaving Euphoria as executive producer to focus on raising their son.

Filmography

The Parent Trap (1998) - Tie-dye girl

Spy Kids (2001) - Carmen Cortez

Spy Kids 2 (2002) - Carmen Cortez

Spy Kids 3 (2003) - Carmen Cortez

The Incredibles (2004) - Violet Parr

A Cinderella Story (2004) - Samantha “Sam”

The Pacifier (2005) - Zoe Plummer

V for Vendetta (2005) - Evey Hammond

Corpse Bride (2005) - Emily the Corpse Bride

The Devil Wears Prada (2006) - Andy Sachz

Atonement (2007) - Cecilia Tallis

Avatar (2009) - Neytiri

Julie & Julia (2009) - Julie

500 Days of Summer (2009) - Summer

Tangled (2010) - Rapunzel

Black Swan (2010) - Nina Sayers

Silver Linings Playbook (2012) - Tiffany

The Spectacular Now (2013) - Aimee Finicky

Oz: The Great and Powerful (2013) - Theodora

Gone Girl (2014) - Amy Dune

Interstellar (2014) - Brand

Inside Out (2015) - Joy

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) - Imperator Furiosa

Hacksaw Ridge (2016) - Dorothy Scutte

Mother! (2017) - Mother

The Incredibles 2 (2018) - Violet Parr

Ocean's 8 (2018) - Daphne Kluger

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) - Mary Austin

Little Women (2019) - Meg March

Midsommar (2019) - Dani Ardor

Soul (2020) - 22

Promising Young Woman (2020) - Cassandra “Cassie” Thomas

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022) - Neytiri

Television

The Office (2010) - Herself

Saturday Night Live (2015) - Herself (host)

The Handmaid’s Tale (2017-2022) - June Osborne

Peaky Blinders (2013-2019) - Grace Shelby (née Grace Burgess)

Ted Lasso (2020) - Herself

Scooby Doo and Guess Who? (2021) - Herself

Euphoria (2019-2022) - Executive Producer

Broadway

Annie (1997-1999) - Annie

My Fair Lady (2005-2007) - Aliza Doolittle

Mary Poppins (2012-2013) - Mary Poppins

Accolades

Y/L/N-Evans won three Academy Awards for Best Actress for her performance in Black Swan (2010), Silver Linings Playbook (2012) and Promising Young Woman (2020). She has won four Golden Globe Awards for Best Actress for Black Swan (2010), Silver Linings Playbook (2012), Gone Girl (2014) and Promising Young Woman (2020). She has three Primetime Emmy Awards; two for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series for her performance in The Handmaid's Tale in 2017 and 2021, and for Oustanding Guest Actress in a Comedy Series for her performance in SNL (2015). Y/LN-Evans won two BAFTA awards for her role in Black Swan (2010) and Gone Girl (2014) as Best Actress in a Leading Role. She won one Tony award for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical for Mary Poppins (2013). She also has won one Grammy award for Best Spoken Word Album (Including Poetry, Audiobooks & Storytelling) for being the official narrator of the bestselling book by Madeline Miller, Circe (2018). The actress has 17 People's Choice Awards, 12 MTV Movie awards, 4 Critics' Choice Awards.

#planet evans #planet evans universe #chris evans imagine #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans blurb

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hh0320 · 2 years

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YOU BELONG TO ME, BABY.

— lonely star, part one of the trilogy series. pairing. street racer! chris x fem! reader. (+ hyunjin, minho) genre. past lovers, angst, heartbreak, hurt/comfort, stripper!(y/n), interlocked stories. warnings. profanity, jealousy, smut, public sex, unprotected intercourse, alcohol abuse, mentioned violence, name calling, blowjob, rage fuck. tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater, @lix-ables, @byskzfilms, @danyxthirstae01, @enluc, @skz317cb97. word count. 7.5k

OCT. 2019 — SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA.

Very early in your life it was too late.

You stare at the text message, watercolor tears blurring your vision. The stranger’s hands are numb, her legs heavy.

She needs to go. Away—from him. She loves him very much, but there has to be life after him. She loves him very much, but God, it is unbearable, it is all consuming, it is a coffin six feet down, buried alive, hands never again to touch his.

If it’s not happening to you, you think you can get through with it. It is not your hands, it is hers; it is not your heart bleeding, it’s someone else’s, the stranger’s. The one that’s never met Chris. The one that will board the plane, the one that will survive, live on, away away away—

You look at the words on the screen, and there’s heavy rain, thunderstorm warning—your phone is wet. The watercolor bled, Hyunjin would be mad.

02:38AM chris— you’re the only good thing in my life.

02:41AM chris— if you go i’m dead.

03:02AM chris— YOU ARE BREAKING MY FUCKING HEART ANGEL. REPLY TO ME.

Very early in your life it was too late.

You will your body to move.

JAN. 2022 — SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA.

Chris was drunk.

It had been a long inebriation, settled deep between his bones, holding him there, over the edge. It had a name, but Chris refused to give into it just yet. Soon, but not yet.

There was a rage in him. It’d built a house in his rib cage, and there’d been no stopping it from growing. And it was growing; had been growing for a while—eight hundred and fifty two days, to be exact.

Chris had counted every.single.one of them.

Sitting on top of his black 2015 Chevrolet Camaro, he threw another empty bottle of beer on the dull pavement, with all the little fucking cracks, and bumps, and mistakes—

Yes, there was rage, and it was sizzling white, blinding him. There was rage, because there was grief. And God knows you’re not coming back, so anger is all he has now.

The bottle smashed, as the engines roared. Jisung was getting ready for another race. It hadn’t been but a couple hours since they got there, and they’d already made more than three thousand dollars. Chris had won the first round, and drank himself oblivious after that.

To celebrate, was tonight’s excuse.

If he closed his eyes, he could picture you. Beautiful, astute, waiting, hand extended for him to grab. There—always there with his eyes closed.

Nowhere to be found when he opened them.

“Hey, Bang!”

Chris barely turned to the sound of his surname. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He took another swing of his new beer, watching as Yeji brought the scarf down, indicating for the racers to start. Jisung’s Nissan growled and he was gone, people cheering all around. Chris followed the cars with his eyes, up until the Devil’s turn and then tilted his head up at the night sky, leaning back on the hood.

“Bang!” The voice was closer, now. Seo Changbin.

“What the fuck do you want?” Chris replied, indifferently, not even bothering to address him.

“Race me. I’ll give you a thousand.”

“Fuck no.”

Changbin groaned, but didn’t give up.

“Upfront.”

Chris peeked at him at that, studying his face. His excited expression betrayed naivety, and Chris wasn’t in the mood to steal money from a rookie. Not only that, but Changbin’s car wasn’t anywhere near race ready, and well, that would probably be classified cheating, wouldn’t it?

“Hard pass, Seo,” he said, and stuck his hand out. Changbin clapped it, obviously disappointed. “But hey, I’ll come help you replace that stock down pipe. Saturday, yeah?”

The man nodded, smile back on his face. “Fuck yeah, bro! Take care of yourself, no? You look like shit.”

Chris chuckled, gaze back to the stars. “Fuck off, Changbin.”

“Say less.”

Changbin had been a high school friend, but after graduation the two drifted apart, Chris sticking with Jisung and Hyunjin, while Bin went off to university and joined a fraternity. Their love for cars remained, and even now, they would sometimes get together and work on Changbin’s Supra, but it would never be like before.

Something broke between them, and it could never be fixed. Maybe it was after he met you.

His murderer—cold case.

Chris chugged the beer, getting off his car. He needed to go for a drive, before he started a fight again. No one could call the cops on a street race, and he was sure—if he started, there was no stopping.

He threw the empty bottle harder this time, getting in. Turning the key, the engine roared—Chris pressed on the gas, car still in park. People close to him turned their heads, admired the smoothness of the sound, the sleek black of the exterior.

Chris ignored their stares, focused on his killing.

The glass smashed, shattering into a million, tiny fucking pieces. He smiled, bitterly.

So, that’s how it looked. His heart.

FEB. 2022 — SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA.

Hyunjin was reading Henry Miller, waiting at Arrivals, gate A2.

A regret was in process, but he swallowed it entire. You had asked, you had no one else. A favor to you—his sweet, precious friend—it couldn’t be wrong. And it wouldn’t be.

At last, you appeared. A myth taking shape; all these years passed, they all thought they dreamt you up. Had she ever been real, Chris had wondered one particular night, crying over a bottle of liquor, always Lark, always whiskey; Chris never drank before you, not the hard stuff. But frequenting at your bar had changed him, watching you dance in front of tens of men, undressing for their eyes—it cracked him. Fucked with his head.

‘Only but a shadow lifted,’ Hyunjin had replied.

‘A dream, then,’ he’d mourned. ‘A dream.’

Now, you were back, corporeal, and there were no words. When your eyes met, your own were glossy, sad with longing.

Hyunjin closed his book, and smiled softly at your figure, slowing down, taking him in. He opened his arms, overcome with relief.

No more of this knife turning, this terrible fucking horror of watching his best friend kill himself bit by bit. The angel had arrived, to breathe life back into him, to stop the torturing pain, the never ending punishment.

What were you, if not part of the Bible, returning to save them all. A salvation.

“Welcome back, sweetheart.”

You nuzzled into him, tears running hot, staining. Your arms squeezed tighter around his torso, missing the clean scent, the softness of his clothes.

Hyunjin had been like a brother to you, in a time where you had no one. He’d been patient, and kind, offering up his life, expecting nothing in return. He gave you Jisung, and eventually Chris, and the three of them filled you up in ways you’ve never before known possible.

You were back at the scene of the crime. Why? Because love is an anchor that settles over home, it is a resurrection, an open door that you leave, a candle that you light—

Because, despite you leaving, you never truly went anywhere if he was here all along. Love unmoving, terrifyingly still.

The both of you walked to Hyunjin’s car, your hand in his. He opened the passenger door for you to get in.

“You know you could’ve stayed with me,” he said, pulling out of the parking spot.

It was already evening in Sydney, the sky in flames. You had missed your city; Perth was wonderful, open, the people friendly enough, but Sydney is your soul. There was something about growing up there, being familiar with the streets, your friends…your club.

You’d missed dancing. You’d sworn off it the minute you decided to leave—Perth had been a standstill, a necessary pause from the rest of your life, completely separate. There you were the girl from before, naive and innocent, a stranger that had no memories, no recollection of fast cars, stripping, money, so fucking much of it—him.

Was it wrong of you to miss eating your own heart? Perth had been nice, it had been lovely, but it wasn’t real. It didn’t exist. The you that tried to escape—she’d failed, and now she was back. Starting from zero.

“No, Hyun. I have to do this on my own this time.”

He glanced at you, red light bringing him to a stop. “Who’s going to give you rides to the bar? Make sure you’re eating?”

You sighed, taking his hand, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on his palm.

“I was by myself for two years. Alone—do you know what it means, Hyunjin?”

Your friend didn’t look convinced, but humored you anyway. “I understand very well, (Y/N). It was a choice we all had to live with, whether we liked it or not.”

His words hurt you. You had no right to play victim when you had up and left, abandoning the only people in your life that loved you unconditionally. Hyunjin had been your roommate for four years, and you hadn’t even bothered to leave a note on your way out.

He had to come home and find half of your clothes gone, your toothbrush missing. He had to wait six hours before his calls could go through, his messages delivered. And then he had to wait two months before you showed him any signs of your being alive.

So yes, Hyunjin knew aloneness. He felt it everyday seeing your furniture intact, still in his guest room, he felt it every time he visited his friend, every time he had to carry him out his car, make sure he wasn’t dead. Every time Chris would hide his face, asking him to leave, embarrassed, devastated.

Being alone felt a lot like a girl boarding a plane and ruining a perfectly fine man.

“I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you irrevocably, and you should never forgive me,” you choked out, tears burning unshed. “But Hyunjin, if nothing else, please know I love you with everything in me.”

He nodded to that, swallowing hard, both hands on the wheel, knuckles white from his deathly grip on it.

“He still goes,” he revealed in a voice barely above a whisper. “To Lonely Star. He looks for you.”

You sobbed, then. Silently, hand over mouth, gaze locked out the window, buildings passing you by, the last bits of sun scorching your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, and let it all spill out over the dashboard—emotions bouncing on the windshield, no escape for them now.

Now you had to deal with them. No more running away, no more pretending they weren’t there.

If running, why not go towards the things you love?

Hyunjin’s own eyes were wet, too. A regret was in process, and this time he’d let it take over. Because he felt it, the love annihilating, the time destroying. The heart that won’t do the beating, the words that won’t speak.

He hoped for this. If you were regretting, that means it’d hurt you just as much as it had them. So then, the hurting would’ve been for something.

“Will you tell him?” You asked, trying to will your tears to stop.

But your body will betray you, and your will won’t save you. You did this, it whispered, echoing inside of you. You caused it. Deal with it. Set it right.

“No. It’s not my place anymore,” he replied. “Either way, he’s been hanging out with Jisung lately. They’ve been racing a lot, making good money.”

What was racing to Chris Bang—an extension of him. Like an arm, or a lung, vital for his existence. You used to think he could survive without the adrenaline; the gas pedal, the stick shift, his tire grazed streets. All these things were fun, but they weren’t necessary, you’d thought. And it was true—to an extent, you could live without your arm, or one of your lungs, or your leg—but it wouldn’t ever be quite the same again, would it? It’d always feel like something’s missing.

Only then had you understood the nature of him. He breathed cars, he thrived off the thrill of a good race. He was incomplete without those things.

‘You think you have limits, yeah? Until you get out there, and you try this limit, and you think ‘okay, this is it, I can only go this far.’ But then you press down a little bit more…suddenly you’re limitless. A line that has no fucking end.’

God, how you missed him. The sound of his voice, the sight of him. The way he used to fuck you into the steering wheel, those arms that you remember so vividly holding you tight against him while you pieced yourself back together.

His patience with you. His autumn eyes, the way you fell and kept falling in them. This man had been carved of the same soul as you, you felt him entirely your own.

Which is why you let him go. It had gone too far, you had to pull the trigger first. God knows he could never hurt you.

“And you?” You asked, taking a good look at your friend. His hair was longer, covering the nape of his neck, dyed midnight black. His features carved, beautiful as always.

“Renowned artist, Hwang Hyunjin, at your service. I have a gallery now,” he smirked, sensing your need to change the subject.

You were nearing your destination—your new home.

“Of course you do. I saw all about it,” you smiled proudly at him. “You really deserve it, Hyun. You were born to paint.”

At that, he snorted, getting shy. “Perhaps.”

You tried not to think about yourself. What were you doing with your life again? Taking your clothes off for fast money. And yet you couldn’t seem to feel sorry for yourself—this world doesn’t spin the same for everyone.

Money was money, at the end of the day. Lonely Star always provided.

The club was drenched in blue light.

A solid crowd, all eagerly awaiting your first show back. A dark stage, and a spinning pole; low, hypnotizing music, bass heavy. It was all calling to you.

The owner sat at the bar, scanning the scene. You had been his favorite dancer, his most popular employee. When you left, you’d taken a lot of money with you. There was no way he’d lose you again. Not with a full house like this.

Chris got out of his car, locking it behind him. It was after hours, and the Lonely Star seemed an oasis amidst the driest desert for him. He’d gotten a call from Minho to pass by.

‘It’ll be worth your while,’ he’d promised. Something in his voice had convinced Chris to go.

Maybe it was instinct, his gut leading him. Maybe it’d been you, and your red string of fucking fate.

Because nothing was worthwhile for Lee Minho and his club, unless you were there.

God his witness, if he passed through those doors and saw you on that stage, he’d fucking lose it.

How long had you been hiding from him? Who knew and hadn’t told him? He was seething, jaw locking and unlocking, fingers fidgeting with the keys in his hand, trying very hard not to punch the first thing he saw.

Oh, he’d burn the fucking place to the ground. Take you with him and fuck you senseless, drill you to his fucking bed frame so you could never fucking run again.

The neon blue light encased him whole, invading his eyes. The bass of the music bounced in his chest, as he headed straight for the bar.

The stage was empty still, but it looked set up, like someone was about to perform.

“Whiskey. Straight,” he said to the bartender, clapping Minho’s back.

The man in question turned around, a cryptic look on his face. “How’ve you been, Chris?”

Chris scoffed, a quick thank you for the drink, before he kicked it back. The burn in his throat was nothing compared to what he felt throughout his entire body.

Every hair on him was on full alert. The idea of you being backstage, getting ready in one of your ridiculous little outfits that covered nothing but your cunt—two and a half years.

Two and a half fucking years and the first person that got to see you naked was Lee goddamn Minho. Did you really hate him that much?

Had he not given you every fiber of his being?

“Another one,” he ordered, hands clenched into fists on top of the counter.

Chris hang his head, gritting his teeth. All this time, he was dying a thousand deaths, every day, for you to just—

“You’d be wise to calm down,” Minho advised, calmly.

“You’d be wise to shut the fuck up,” he snapped, glaring at the grey haired man. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

Chris’ hand came down on the counter. The sound got drowned by the music, but the bartender jumped nonetheless, eyes wide staring at him.

The second drink was gone as soon as it came.

“You’ve been hiding her from me,” he growled, getting in Minho’s face.

The man remained unfazed. When drunk, Chris would usually get like this. If he wasn’t his friend, Minho would’ve thrown him out countless times.

He supposed there was good enough reason for his behavior today, and he couldn’t fault him. You and Chris had a tumultuous affair—something very intense, and dark, that Minho couldn’t quite understand.

When you left, everything crumpled. Entirely.

“Not exactly,” he said. “But in a sense. She’s staying at one of my apartments.”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows, swallowing needles. His mouth was dry. Pain shot through his chest. So it was true—you really were back.

Only feet away from him.

“You don’t deserve her. I can take care of her now. I swear, Lee, if you touch a hair on her goddamn head—” he fumed, grabbing him by the shirt.

Minho looked down at his now wrinkled shirt, smirking. “You do know I own this place, right? There’s people way bigger than you that don’t like you very much right now.”

Chris chuckled darkly, bringing him closer. “You think I give a fuck about your fucking bodyguards?” he spat.

“You will, if you don’t let go of me.”

The two men measured each other in the swimming lights, before Chris caved, taking a deep breath, and moving away from him.

He drank that third glass slowly, his anger barely contained. It was there, though, waiting, lurking to be set free. Chris would not find peace until he exploded.

“I am not interested in your girl. Business wise, yeah, she’s the best I got. I’m planning on keeping her around for a long time. But that’s it.”

The song changed to something sultry, with heavier bass. Lights dimming, whispers erupted through the crowd. Minho smiled, turning his attention to the stage.

Chris had never looked away.

And it would always be like the first time he ever saw you; walking out from behind the curtains, your hips swaying seductively, you grabbed onto the pole, twirling slowly. Everyone seemed to be hanging from your next move, leaning closer, holding their breath.

You were a vision. A dream his mind conjured up, stained in pretty pinks and blues, the lace on your body made of the finest nightmare—he’d finally gone mad. It couldn’t be you, real, there, right there, so close he could touch you?

Surely not. Surely you wouldn’t mercy him so generously.

Nothing else mattered. You, up on that stage, spinning like a fucking goddess on that pole, your smooth skin sparkling, your angelic, beautiful face—his fucking hell on earth.

He moved towards you in a trance, his love and hate for you having a bar fight. You had made it so incredibly clear—he was not worthy of you, did not deserve you. You left him for dead, and disappeared for what felt like an unbearable eternity.

Now you’re in front of him, his cruel, beautiful girl, a graceful ballerina upside down on that pole, doing the splits, and all he can think about is—you don’t give a shit about him.

You never fucking did. He loved you, loves you, so entirely, would give his soul, whatever there was left, sacrifice himself to the fucking Devil if it meant you’d be his again, and you just—

Felt nothing. You punished him like this?

Oh, he’d show you pain. He’d make it hurt so good.

Chris stood right under your feet. He could hear the other men around him curse at him, call out for him to get out the way, but he dared them to do something about it. He had to make you see—he was there, he knew.

Your eyes recognized him as you fell to your knees, discarding your top. He stared you down, his eyes glistening, his face set, hard lines around his mouth. His luscious, full mouth.

Chris. Real, mad at you. Clad in black jeans and a white shirt, hair styled away from his sharp face. Your heart, looking at you like a stranger.

A gasp escaped your lips, frozen in place. ‘He still goes. He looks for you,’ Hyunjin’s voice echoed in your head.

Bills flying all around you, life played out in slow motion as you saw the stack of money on his hands. You blinked at it, tears stuck to your eyelids.

“Dance,” he demanded, squinting down at you. “That’s how you get these, right?” He shook the bills at you, his hands shaking for another reason entirely.

You saw it, the hate in his eyes. From his perspective, you were a terrible woman, a woman that played him like a fool, and disappeared on him afterwards, once the fun was over. He was dirt poor back then, had nothing to offer. Why would you entertain a loser like him, right?

He couldn’t be further from the truth. But there was no way to show him. And you couldn’t move if you wanted to. You had no control of your body.

To disappear. To disappear completely.

You looked for Minho, who was sitting at the bar, watching the scene play out. You looked a lot like a fallen angel, to him. He was interested to see the ending of this.

He lifted a hand to his bodyguard. Stay put.

The lights were blinding you, there was nothing beyond the man standing in front of you. In your chest, panic. There was no way you could do this. No way in Hell.

“I said fucking dance,” he leaned down to grab your chin, roughly. “That’s all you’re good for, yeah?”

What it took for you to not curl into yourself, then. He had hurt you with your biggest insecurity. You couldn’t escape the club, knowing your dancing always brought you a lot of money. He knew this—he used it against you.

“Don’t look at me like I’ve hurt you,” he said, close to your mouth, gaze scorching.

“What the fuck, man! You’re not supposed to touch the girl,” one of the customers said, getting up from his seat.

More retaliated, but got drowned out by the music. Chris turned around, a deadly calmness settling over him.

“That’s my fucking girl. I can do whatever the fuck I want with her.”

You used his anger as fuel to get up from the ground, and grab the pole once again. Falling into it, you used your momentum to jump and latch your legs around the cool silver, twirling while extending your arms, your hips moving slowly to the beat of the music you’d chosen for the night.

He wanted a show, you’d give him one. For old times sake.

Letting your head fall back, you saw his face change, pain morphing back into unadulterated anger, as he started throwing dollar bills your way.

You closed your eyes, tears finally escaping you, as you came all the way down, knees hitting the floor. You were disgusted with yourself, with the way his money fell on you, so you escaped to the top of the pole, your entire body hurting.

Most of all your own soul. A betrayal. He’d thought you betrayed him, all this time. And wasn’t he right to assume?

But it wasn’t the truth. And would he listen to you now? Did you deserve his time, after everything?

Chris had seen enough. He was fucking done. He dumped the rest of the money on you, watching it lick all over your skin, your back on the stage floor, your hand running over the crevice of your breast.

He was sick to his stomach with want, his own hands aching with yearning. His cock had never stopped getting rock hard just with the thought of you, but having you naked under him like this, and not being able to hide inside you was pure fucking torture.

He’d rather the poison. He’d rather the clean kill.

He turned to walk away, when fingers closed around his own, the touch faint, but there. Enough to stop him dead on his tracks.

Chris looked at your panicked face. He furrowed his brows at you, and shook your touch off. You were playing tricks, fucking with his head.

You wanted nothing to do with him. One thing he never gave you, he showered you with whole. And there was so much more where that had come from—Chris was fucking drowning in money. He had so much of it, he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

Four thousand was on the floor behind you. All hundreds. And yet you didn’t seem to care about it at all, instead trying to grab onto him again. This time it was his shirt.

He wished for death, then, truly, genuinely. What were you doing with him? Had you no mercy? Couldn’t you see you had him on his knees, gun to his mouth?

Let me die. Let me die, now, as she’s holding on to me. This will never happen again.

“Please,” he heard you say. Those weren’t crystals on your cheeks, they were tears.

You, crying for him. What fresh Hell, what godforsaken dream was this—

“Chris.” His name on your lips.

Oh, fuck him straight to the depths of the darkest fucking pit. Bury him alive. He wasn’t wasting this. If it hurt him again, so be it.

You were calling out his name. He was drunk, but that had been real. As real as his heart bursting into flames, a forest fire spreading to the rest of his organs, tearing him down from the inside.

“Curse the fucking pull you have on me—”

He took his shirt off, covering you up, and slid his hands under you, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso, arms circling around his neck.

Home. Home, at long last. You sobbed from joy, as he walked both of you out of the club, everything else becoming static noise, background music.

There would never be anything more important than having you in his arms. You completed him in every possible way. He loved you in death, would follow you hands tied, eyes blind.

There will never be anyone else for him. Never.

You didn’t make it far. His lips had devoured yours as soon as the doors had closed behind you. Taking a turn into the club’s alleyway, he slammed you against the wall, his hands protecting your back, grazing against the rough wall—he breathed you in, lips never once leaving your mouth.

Your naked chests touching, your nails scratched over his toned arms, fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck. He’d filled in so deliciously, though his face had been full of edges.

You never wanted to stop kissing him. You wanted him to take you right there, fuck you raw. No one could possibly understand—this need inside you, it was raging against your very skin.

You needed him to fuck you. Needed him inside you to put out, to silence, to release. Please, please, please—

“Use me, baby. Take it,” he whispered fiercely against your mouth, staring deep in your eyes. “Whatever you need.”

You grabbed ahold of his wide shoulders, just as his fingers moved the thin material of your lingerie. He cupped your cunt, and you moved against him, lips falling open, a moan escaping you.

“Goddamnit, (Y/N). You’re killing me,” his fingers slipped inside you, taking, annihilating.

His touch, blazing against your cold skin, resurrecting you from the grave, goosebumps rising all over. This is how it felt, your body told him. This is what I feel for you, this is how I react to your touch alone—hide inside me. Come home now.

He was relentless, fucking into you with his digits, mouth attacking your mouth, your neck, your ears—his breath was hot, panting. You dug your nails on his shoulders, screams weak and raspy.

Then he stopped. “Open your mouth for me,” he ordered, sticking his fingers in, swirling them around.

You licked them, sucked them dry, tasting yourself on him. He watched you with hungry eyes, trapped against him, naked for him. You had returned—to him. He was going to ruin you until there was nothing left.

Until all you knew was him. He was fucking obsessed with your body, furious you’d refused him yourself for this long.

“My good fucking girl,” he removed his fingers with a ‘pop’, your hands already unbuttoning his jeans, getting lost under the waistband of his underwear.

You rubbed him a couple times, but it just wasn’t enough. You needed him in your mouth, you needed— fuck, all you really needed—

“Let me down,” you said, unwrapping your legs from him. He let you, dazed, and you quickly got on your knees.

When you took him in your mouth, both of you groaned simultaneously, overwhelmed. Chris put one arm against the wall, holding himself up, eyes watching his cock disappear between your lips. Heaven—pure fucking bliss to be like this with you.

“My girl. Mine, mine, mine,” he repeated, over and over, like a mantra. “Made for me.”

It felt a lot like racing, you blowing him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, heart bursting. His two favorite things. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could fucking compare.

He bucked his hips, his other hand grabbing ahold of your head, his stomach muscles flexing. You felt fucking incredible. He wanted to go on forever, but your tongue was working him loose, your palm rubbing him just right. He’d blow, and he didn’t wanna do in your mouth.

He wanted to get lost inside you.

He tapped on your mouth, releasing himself, pulling you up. “Get up, my beautiful girl. Let me feel you,” his breathing was labored, his eyes ablaze.

Hands on your ass, he picked you up again with no difficulty at all. You kissed him hard, and his hand got lost in your hair, bringing you closer. Moving your panties aside, you positioned his hard cock on your entrance, rocking against him, moaning, panting, tears running down your face, mixing with sweat.

He pressed his forehead against yours, shushing you. “I know, baby girl,” he mumbled, eyes closed.

Then he pushed. You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. He slammed into you, bottoming out, and paused, taking a sharp breath. He was violently shaking; not because of exhaustion, but because he’d dreamt of this exact moment a million times, and every time he would wake up alone, realizing he was crying in his sleep.

That terrible half life away from you—and now you were there, and he was touching you, was inside you—his dream come true.

“Goddamn you for taking this away from me,” he choked out, visibly in pain, tears falling miserably from his beautiful, autumn eyes.

You wiped them away, your own still burning, and cried with him, as he fucked into you, slow in the beginning, getting used to you again, holding back in case you wanted to run again, giving you that time to obliterate him once and for all, but—after a point he was just too fucking gone.

There was no more holding back. He drilled you into the wall, all the while his knuckles raw and bloody against your back, his chest your chest, his breath your breath. He was fucking you like a starved man, arms enveloping you, mouth colonizing. Your voice was hoarse, your release near.

“Fuck me, fuck, Chris… God! Please, please, I need to, I need to, please,” you begged, scratching his back, drawing blood. He let you.

He let you have it all. His hands guided your hips on his cock, keeping you steady, allowing you your pace.

“I got you, angel. Fuck on me, baby.”

“Please, I’m so close,” you moaned, head falling back into brick.

He needn’t be told twice. He resumed pounding into you, taking your lips for his. His tongue fighting for dominance, open mouthed—he won. He would win every time, because he could have everything.

You didn’t care anymore. He could swallow you whole.

“Fuck,” he growled, death grip on your hips. “Baby girl, look at me.”

You did. You searched his eyes, nodding to yourself. It was too much, it was so much, he was so wonderful, so beautiful, ruined, sweaty, his smell, just his smell was enough, and you—

You came hard, all over his cock. As if he sensed it, he followed after you, walls painted white. He fisted your hair, pulling you into a sloppy, possessive kiss.

“No one will ever fuck you like I do,” he muttered, his lips dragging over your cheek. “No one will ever love you as much as I fucking do, baby.”

You breathed hard, coming down from your high, ashamed to look at him. He was suffocatingly close, promising you things that you didn’t deserve in the slightest.

“Look at me,” he whispered softly, his index finger guiding your face towards him.

You kept your gaze to his chest; his chiseled muscles, his strong arms, his swimmer shoulders, that thin chain around his neck glistening under the street lights, his big Adam’s apple, the way it bopped as he swallowed.

Chris put you down gently, zipping his pants up, and proceeding to pass his shirt over your head, hiding your breasts from view. You’d given enough of a show—the rest was for his eyes only.

“You’re regretting it,” he said, voice devoid of emotion.

“No,” you replied, sharply. “That’s not it. Chris, I’ve hurt you so much…” you trailed off.

“How can you still love me?” you asked, helplessly, hugging your arms.

He took a step forward, your back getting pressed against the wall once again. Both arms over your head, there was no one more beautiful, more enticing than him at that moment.

But you had been selfish. You’d taken and taken, and you’d dried him out. Back in the club, his image haunting you—he looked a dead man walking.

Absolutely devoid of life. And it had all been your fault.

“Because you’re mine,” he answered, tone deep, raspy. “I never stopped believing you’d come back to me.”

He grabbed your hand, put it over his heart. A sob wretched out of your throat, and you hang your head. He covered your fingers with his, squeezing.

“This goddamn thing—it’s only ever beat for you. There is nothing you can do to me now, that I haven’t already gone through, angel.”

You bit your lips, devastated, defeated. Here he was, offering himself up, to use and abuse him, and you were refusing him, again, because of your own weaknesses.

Oh, you didn’t deserve this man one bit. And yet, you’d be greedy, anyway.

One last time.

“Take me home, Chris.”

He sped through the empty streets, one hand on the steering wheel, the other over yours on the gearbox.

Looking at him now, handling his car so expertly, as easy as breathing to him, you wondered how many hours he’d dedicated to learning this vehicle so intimately.

Hyunjin told you he was racing more now. And all that money he’d thrown on you earlier…just how involved was he in illegal racing?

Before you left, he’d almost gotten arrested for it, and excessive speeding. He’d barely lost the cops, maneuvering through avenues and ending up on the highway, high on adrenaline, Jisung on speakerphone telling him how messed up he was.

Ever since you met him, Chris had been working on cars. Junk cars, cars that no one would give a second thought about. He took them in to his garage, and brought them back to life. That had been his job, when you two got together—he’d get scrap vehicles, make them race able, and sell them.

It didn’t pay much, but his eyes held so much passion doing it, that you could never bring yourself to mention anything to him. He was wasting himself, his talent. Regardless of what you thought, his knowledge and skills only got better because of that dead end job.

When he started racing himself—that’s when he realized his true calling. At first he sucked ass. But with trial and error, he studied the cars that beat him, their motors, and slowly started ordering the parts needed for the ultimate race car.

He bought his Camaro with Jisung’s help. Jisung had been a racer since before they’d graduated high school. He was one of the best in Sydney, but he also happened to be Chris’ best friend.

So with that extra push, Chris came to be what he was. Then you left, and everything else went to shit, except this. His car. The meet ups—his streets. It was the only thing that kept him from fucking shooting his brains out.

He was so focused, when driving. He loved going fast, it was evident in his face every time he stepped on the gas. You couldn’t help but admire him, the way he’d dedicated himself to this one thing, loved it so utterly.

You loved him. You loved him in a way that could raise the dead from their graves.

“Pull over,” you told him, as if waking up from a dream. “Please.”

He did, barely getting to pull the e-brake, before you straddled him. Chris adjusted under you, hands on your waist, gaze dark, watching your every move.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, bracing your heart.

His eyes moved, trying to discern your expression, wishing he could read your thoughts. Your hips started grinding on his thighs, your mouth falling open.

“Yes,” he confessed, holding you in place, taken aback.

“Why?” You moved one of his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, over your breast.

He growled, low, wanting to get in your head—what the fuck were you playing at? He was mad with desire.

“Because you can leave me.” His other hand went to your throat, squeezing, pushing your back against the steering wheel.

“Show me,” you whispered.

He attacked your neck, licking, biting, teeth grazing behind your ear. You wrapped around him like a vine, taking it all, your cunt getting wet just with the thought of him filling you up in his car, just like all those times before.

“Fuck me,” you moaned on his lips. “I need you.”

Your hands unzipped his jeans, pulling his fully erect cock out. You salivated at the sight of it, wanted to take him deep in your mouth. But you needed him inside you more, needed to feel him as part of you, to convince yourself that he was real, that everything would be okay now.

“Chris, please, please—”

“Shut up, be quiet.”

Chris lifted you by the waist, slamming you down on his dick, hissing as you clenched around him. Your eyes met, his cruel gaze dropping to your mouth, reaching and taking your bottom lip between his lips, biting down on it. You whined, fucking yourself on him, his hands guiding your pace.

“Goddamn you, (Y/N). Fuck,” he cursed, his head falling, resting against your sternum, forehead pressing on your collarbone.

And then he started pistoling into you. You screamed, death grip on his shoulders, as you felt the steering wheel dig into your lower back.

His hips moved incessantly, without rest, reaching into the deepest parts of you, taking, devouring, stealing. You could cry with the closeness of him. It was divine—your cunt was on fire, his cock pure gasoline.

“Fucking slut,” he growled in your ear, his mouth everywhere, his voice ricocheting on your skin. “You craved cock this much?”

“Yours,” you breathed, shaking. “Only yours.”

He laughed humorlessly, arms tightening around you, thrusting, killing you. “Yet she’s so willing to undress in front of other men.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, finding his eyes.

They were looking to wound. “Truth hurts, baby?” He asked, voice laced with poison.

You couldn’t breathe. His cock was ramming into you so hard, so fast, tears were stuck on your eyelids—it hurt. It hurt more because it was meant to.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he panted, bringing you flush against him, his hands moving your ass on him.

“I’m so close, oh my God—”

Your thighs were burning with exhaustion.

“Fucking tell me—don’t you dare fucking cum—has anyone else fucked this cunt?”

You scrunched your face, pain erupting in your chest, at the thought of this question replaying over and over inside his head. You’d ruined this beautiful shell of a man.

Now you had to glue him back together.

“Answer me, (Y/N)!” He seized moving, now shaking you violently. “You’re not cumming until you fucking tell me.”

“No! Fuck you, Chris, no, goddamnit.” You collapsed on him, overcome with grief. “Stop fucking acting like you were the only one hurting!”

He made no attempt to console you, his fingers still digging into your ribs. “Don’t you fucking dare turn this around—you chose to leave. I had no fucking choice.”

“Please…” you sobbed, brokenly. “I’m yours. No one’s touched me, Chris.”

His anger hit you in waves. You felt him physically restraining himself from doing anything too harsh, instead pushing you off of him, and onto the passenger seat, on your hands and knees.

You went to speak, before he slammed into you again. This time he was absolutely ruthless, searching only for one thing. Release.

His hand coming down on your ass, again and again, he fucked you hard until you came apart.

“You fucking whore, is this what you wanted? Atonement?”

You shook your head, unable to reply, unable to move. He loved you enough to let you finish, but he still didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t blame him at all.

He pulled out of you roughly, leaving you naked and used. You’d asked for it; you’d been sure that’s what he’d needed. But you couldn’t help regretting ever asking for his honest feelings.

They burned holes through you.

You heard him fumbling with his jeans, and then the door slammed. Slowly turning to sit down, your back sore, you watched as he lit a cigarette, the way his body curved towards the lighter, how it hang from his full lips, as he rose his arms, put them on top of his head.

What a fucking man you loved. Shirtless, a God—if only you weren’t so toxic for each other. Oh, how your heart broke, watching him in conflict with his own self.

But that’s why you’d come back every time, for the rest of time. Because it’s him, because it’s you—together. Because this feeling is intoxicating.

You knew you shouldn’t—you got out.

He pierced you with black eyes. “Get the fuck back in the car.”

You didn’t dare move towards him. “We should break up.”

Chris looked at you bewildered. He huffed out a laugh, hitting his head with his hands, furious, drunk, out of it. What else? What fucking else?

“(Y/N), God my fucking witness, get back in the goddamn car, before I fucking do something I regret.”

“Chris, look at you,” you said, softly, sad.

Cigarette between his fingers, you saw his heavy boots move towards you, now standing before you. His chest was falling and rising, his hair a mess.

Handsome. Handsome as ever. You met his enraged gaze.

“This is what you did to me!” He yelled at you. You flinched, taking a step back. He paused upon seeing your reaction, turning his head away, licking his lips, collecting himself. “Who I am, it’s because of you. So, no,” he chuckled humorlessly, “we’re not breaking up. You’re stuck with me, baby. You’re going nowhere,” he finished, voice dangerous, but gentle.

“Now get inside, before I kill some motherfuckers,” he glared at the cars beeping, catcalling you.

“You’re staying with me.”