#the most beautiful top 4 in the world

[sapphosclosefriend]

- Money, Power, Glory pt 1 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: suggestive

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, successful and rich CEO, books an urgent meeting with someone who she might be able to finally destress with. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, BIG age gap (N=56, R=24), suggestive themes.

A/N: this story contains mature topics so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Just as an introduction hehe don't worry, their first time is in the next one, I won't leave it out! Thanks sooo much to @rt--link and @supercorpdanbeau for being the kindest and both helping me out ❤️ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You still remember clearly the day you received the call from your agent. You honestly thought it was a cruel joke of hers at first, but the serious, yet excited, tone in her voice easily reassured you of the realness of the situation. The fact that she was calling you in the first place, and not quickly messaging you, was clear proof of just how important and urgent the matter was. Not only were you requested for that same night, meaning that the trusted woman deemed the new customer as important enough to ditch the advance days you usually demanded, but the house you needed to get to was of no regular person.

You were a high end escort, pleasing la creme de la creme only, well, at least in terms of monetary assets. You, and the agency you worked with, were known for your discretion, professionalism and skills, an overall level of competence that simply tended to attract clients of a certain status. And that's how you met her, the Natasha Romanoff herself, CEO of a multi-billion company she had created from the ground up in her decades-long career. But why was she so important? She would've been the richest one of your clients, it was as simple as that. Pretty much every single one of them were at the head of, if not close to, big and different companies, all with the highest power of the twenty-first century in their hands, money. You had actually thought about dipping your toes in the world of politics once, which was not so surprisingly filled with countless requests interested in your realm of expertise, but thanks to long consideration and much advice, you had decided to avoid its risks, settling on who you knew, after all, had what you wanted, filthy rich assholes. And gosh, wasn't she the richest one of them all.

Aside from her status, the thought of such a woman, so idolized she seemed unattainable, who could and probably had everything in the world, asking for your company, intrigued you immensely. That day, during every single hour you had spent to thoroughly take care of your appearance just for her, anticipation completely took over you. You knew she was beautiful and you genuinely thought she was fucking hot, which wasn't necessarily to be taken for granted in your line of work, but what you found yourself needing to know, and consequently making your interest in her grow even more, was how she was going to be in private. Was she going to be just like one of those countless naggingly cocky know-it-all's who thought of themselves as some sex gods, and gods in general, but really couldn't even figure out if you had cum yet? You found yourself almost wanting her to be different than everybody else, because deep down you felt like, even if she was the most annoying, full of herself bitch ever, you would’ve gladly tried to satisfy every single one of her needs and taken anything from her with a smile on your face. Ok, maybe scrolling for an hour through the internet looking up information about her and consequently ending up lost through any picture of her you could find wasn’t the best idea, but what could you say, you had a bit of a sweet spot for powerful women.

What you gathered from your innocent stalking session, though, was mainly about her countless successes in life but also concerning some gossip regarding her not so successful marriage life. It didn’t bother you, barely anything about your clients did at that point, but it only intrigued you more about why she wanted someone like you. She could’ve had anybody, she was a walking goddess with her pockets more than full and ladies most definitely falling at her feet left and right, yet there she was, in her car, getting back home after one of the longest and most tiring weeks of the past few months to wait for a girl she’d only seen a couple pictures of to take her mind off of everything. Her driver immediately knew not to even greet her by her frustrated sigh and the pinching of the bridge of her own nose as soon as she got in the car and immediately took off to her desired destination, making Natasha thank any and all gods for the nice relief after such displays of incompetence she had to endure from basically her whole staff. She was right at her limit and all the pent up anger and irritation from the week was finally starting to crack her composed facade at the prospect of the imminent weekend slowly reaching her. She didn’t even want to have dinner, she just needed to be at home, everyone out of her goddamn house and a pussy to unload some stress into. If she had to be honest, in that specific moment, she even missed her disastrous married life and the perk of having a wife always waiting for her at home, ready to meet her needs at the end of the day.

She, unfortunately, never felt the symptoms of "true love" with any of her ex wives, but the thought of how badly it had gone wrong with all of them still pained her a little every time her mind drifted to that phase of her life. During her successful yet busy life she'd been through her fair share of failed marriages, all with beautiful women she'd deeply cared for, but all eventually focused on one thing only, her absence. The first thing she'd always made sure to make very, very clear was just how little time she had to dedicate to anything outside of her company, which unfortunately included her personal life. Her best guess was that the haziness coming from a brand new love must've made it hard to get a grasp on her words…every single time, apparently.

It didn't matter anymore, though, because what she had to focus on now seemed to be much more important than any matter ever had. The quick, warm shower she had just enough time to take as soon as she got home was thankfully able to wash away the surface level anger that was starting to make her temple throb, preventing her from being a rude prick for the rest of the night. She was aware, after all, of the favor you were doing to her by working the night without any notice and all she wanted to do was be respectful for your kind availability. Being her perfectionist self, and deep down maybe even wanting you to like her, she knew she had to focus on not losing her mind on minor things like her outfit, so she decided to try to at least appear to be careless about her appearance and only focus the last bits of mental strength she had on the more relaxing, pleasurable parts of the night. Of course she still couldn't help but fix her hair just a little and change her sweatshirt for a still casual but more put together beige, cashmere sweater. She'd had it for years and, despite its condition not being the best, she couldn't bring herself to get rid of it, it just reminded her too much of- nevermind. A few small holes and pulled threads on her top would certainly be the last thought on your mind anyway.

She didn't even realize she was starting to zone out while still looking at herself in the mirror, when the sudden, distant ring of the front door slightly startled her, effectively making her get herself back together. What was minutes away from happening truly dawned on her as she descended the stairs to the first floor and, for a brief moment, as she walked through the entrance corridor and saw the blurry outline of your figure through the frosted glass of the tall door, time seemed to slow down and for the first time in years she felt a small twinge of anxiety creeping up on her the closer she got to you. She was really doing it, she was really about to follow the advice of her idiot Stark friend and didn't mind it too much. Maybe she was really getting old, maybe age was starting to actually play some tricks on her, because, as her hand pushed the cold handle of the entrance door and started to pull it open, the snippets of hair she could start to see of you lit a confident fire in her that only burned more vividly as your form was finally fully displayed to her, making it impossible for her to suppress the excitement she suddenly felt at the sight of you in person, looking at her through your lashes with subtle faux innocence she could see right through.

"Good evening, Ms Romanoff"

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Part 2

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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader, what if they have been dating for 4 months, and Eddie is still getting adjusted to being with one of the most popular girls in highschool, so when he sees Steve at his girlfriend's house in her bedroom he loses it, he gets really angry at her bc he thought she was cheating on him or something, but Reader and Steve were just working together on some important project and due to that, they needed to spend time together. But Eddie didn't knew that, so he starts to ignore reader, stops giving her ride stop home, so Y/N goes to the trailer park to tell Eddie what's really going on, but Eddie doesn't seems interested in that, but reader convinces him to talk to her and she tells him about the project and Eddie realizes he's been acting like an idiot, but reader forgives him because he's her bf?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting this angst but happy ending fic 🫶🏻

Project?

Eddie knew dating one of the most popular girls in school was going to come with a lot of adjustments. He was at the very bottom of the social class, and now skyrocketed to the top in a flash.

He still couldn't believe he got Y/N to go out with him. She was a preppy cheerleader with a bright smile and an aura that everyone fell in love with. She had Eddie falling over his sneakers within seconds of smelling her perfume and the way her sweet voice said his name. He was shocked she knew who he was and gave him the time of the day.

Somehow throughout all the talking and flirting, they kissed and a relationship surfaced.

Four months passed and their relationship grew stronger by the day. Eddie has never felt more in love with someone, but also never felt more insecure within himself. He knew people adored his girlfriend and that many boys wished to be in his spot. If they were in the lower class like Eddie, he knew he already had one up on them. But the popular kids? He didn't have anything on them.

~~~

Eddie kept his jealousy to himself to not cause any fights or difficult discussions. But he was always so close to blowing at the seams.

"Hey Eds?" Y/N asked, she figured now was a horrible time to try to talk to him as he prepared for his campaign. It started in only ten minutes but she had a last minute plan she wanted him to be aware of.

"hm?" He mumbled, truthfully he wasn't listening. He heard his name and made a sound. His brain was too focused on the campaign ahead.

"Steve is coming over for a theater project. We have to do this love story. And I wanted to make sure you knew that it was strictly for class." She said, her stomach in nervous knots.

"All good. See you after!" He said, turning around to peck her lips before he went back to the campaign.

Well that went way better than she thought.

~~~

Eddie looked at his watch as he used the spare key to walk into Y/N's house. He knew her parents were away on vacation so he didn't have to worry about coming in unannounced.

He hummed a song in his head as he skipped up the stairs. Excitement in his bones to tell his girlfriend all about the campaign and its progress.

"...and when I look at you, I see the most beautiful girl in the world."

Eddie froze as he heard the sound of a male voice coming from his girlfriend's bedroom. The door was wide open and Eddie felt like he wanted to puke at the way Steve Harrington was holding his girlfriend's face in his hands. His heart broke more and more as she leaned into it and not away from it. They sat close on her bed, too cuddled for his liking.

"Are you saying you are in love with me?" She whispered, her eyes skimmed up and down Steve's face.

"Always have been." Steve whispered back, Eddie wasn't sure if they were about to kiss but he wasn't going to stand and watch.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Eddie screamed, within seconds he yanked Steve off the bed and threw him to the floor.

"WOAH DUDE!" Steve yelled, fright in his eyes.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Y/N screamed, she went to yank Eddie off but he refused to budge. He had Steve pinned to the floor, his fist aiming for his jaw.

"HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Y/N screamed, grabbing Eddie as strongly as she could and shoved him off.

Eddie fell to the floor next to Steve, trying to ignore the sting he felt when she checked on Steve.

Eddie jumped up, anger in his body as a piercing noise rang through his ears.

"let me explain," Y/N sighed, she stood up calmly and that hit Eddie wrong. Why was she so chill about this? Why wasn't she crying and begging for forgiveness?

"I think I saw all that I needed to see. Enjoy Harrington, we are done." He sneered, he practically ran out of the room. She was quick to yell after him but he refused to stop. She followed him all the way out of the driveway, watching his van speed off at a law breaking speed.

~~~

A few days passed and Y/N couldn't get Eddie to speak one word to her. She called and called. She tried to talk to him in the halls but he'd walk away. She tried at lunch during a deal but he got up and left. He even stopped driving her home. She could have gotten a ride from Steve, but she knew that would make the situation worse. So she was stuck walking home.

The rain poured down as she walked out of the school building. No warning on the radar so she didn't have any good clothes or an umbrella. She growled to herself as she began to walk down the stairs.

Just great, she thought. Her boyfriend? Ex boyfriend? Was ignoring her, and it tore her apart. And now she had to walk home in the soaking rain.

She thought for a second, the trailer park was way closer than her house. She knew Eddie didn't want to see her, but maybe it was time she forced the boy to listen to her.

She walked through the mud of the trailer park and landed at Eddie's door. She knocked a few times, but stayed close to the door.

Eddie opened the door with a snarl but it lightly faded when he saw her shivering and holding herself warm.

"what in the hell are you doing?" He asked, slight concern in his voice. She allowed him to pull her inside.

"I'm here to talk to you!" She huffed, she removed her wet shoes and cringed at the wet clothes she was stuck in.

"in the rain?" He questioned.

"Look! Your house is way closer to school than mine and I didn't want to walk all the way home. Plus we needed to talk."

"Why didn't hairy boy Steve drive you?" Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"Because I knew that would hurt you, even if you have the wrong idea of what you saw, I wouldn't shove that in your face." She explained.

Eddie felt his hard shell slowly breaking. She chose to walk through the pouring rain to talk to him, and she chose to walk instead of asking Steve for a ride because she knew it would hurt him.

"I don't think I got the wrong idea!" Eddie scoffed, he turned around to march into his room.

Y/N quickly followed, "YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME!" she yelled after him. She figured he was going to slam his bedroom door after him, but he didn't.

Instead he grabbed a clean shirt and boxers from his laundry basket. All folded nicely so she knew Wayne recently did wash.

"Put these on so you don't catch a cold." He demanded. She thanked him and began to strip off her clothes. Eddie wasn't sure if it was his place to look or not, but he couldn't help himself. He'd admire her every day if he could.

"You do have the wrong idea, Steve and I were working on a project." She explained as she slipped Eddie's shirt over her bare chest.

"Is that slang for cheating?" Eddie scoffed. Y/N rolled her eyes and slipped on the boxers next. Throwing her soaked clothes on the floor.

"No, you idiot. It means we were working on a theater project, one that I told you about and even said it would be a romance. But apparently you chose not to listen." She defended herself, her arms crossed as she glared at him.

His defence was starting to break apart. He searched his brain for more questions.

"When? Because I don't recall such thing."

"Right before your campaign. You nodded along and kissed me goodbye. The same night you almost killed Steve." She explained.

"Oh really?"

"really!"

"oh really?"

"Really, Eddie."

"Well....I completely forgot about that." He said as he admitted defeat. He kinda remembered hearing her voice and the sound of Steve's name but nothing in between. He sat on his bed and hung his head in shame.

"We were acting. There's no one else. I love you. And even after you being a complete idiot." She said softly as she kneeled in front of him. She looked at his puppy eyes and softly kissed his cheek.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for losing my control like that. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to explain. And I'm so sorry for not listening to you when you already explained everything to me. I acted like a dick." Eddie said, he truly felt guilty and embarrassed for how easy it all could have been avoided if he listened in the first place.

"I understand the fear and anger you had upon seeing what you did. But it's way better to communicate with me so we can fix it, yeah?"

"Definitely. If I ever see Steve making moves, I'll question before killing him." Eddie joked, he felt his stomach flip as she laughed into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

"Gee, thanks." She laughed.

"I love you too. Thank you for not giving up on me." He said into her hair.

He was granted a blessing, and he vowed to never ruin it.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

genre: figure skater au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

word count: 12.3k

soundtrack: jealousy, jealousy / brutal / the grudge / get him back! / good 4 u - olivia rodrigio

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

After an ankle injury lands you in weekly physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for regionals, you’re certain you must be the most emotionally volatile figure skater within a hundred mile radius. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted beats, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new member.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at sixteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out Coach Kang's. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.” And because the last time we saw each other ended on such great terms.

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a boy you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about me.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “Speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon finally pulls you into his apartment using his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run. Every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems so stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five long years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

#enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #oh look! another sunghoon figure skater au how original #everyone point and laugh

[folkloresthings]

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41. some cursing and sexual references.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by pierregasly, christianhorner, and 938,847 others

f1 We are so delighted to announce our new F1 x Red Cross Ambassador, Y/N Norris! Y/N went straight from Oxford University into the world of charity work. She has worked with the Red Cross for over 4 years and will now be working alongside Formula 1 in our ongoing support of the charity’s campaigns. Keep an eye out for our future fundraising events, auctions, and other exciting things!

view all 798,211 comments

landonorris go sister that’s my sister!!

danielricciardo does this mean more y/n in the paddock? because that will make race weekend so much more enjoyable

⤷ yourusername indeed it will honey badger 🫡 if you ever need a sub to drive for you, i’m in

user nepo baby job. she’s only working with f1 because her brother’s lando norris

⤷ user it’s f1 we’re talking about, they’re ALL nepo babies. at least y/n has been working with charities for years, it’s not completely random

fernandoalo_official great news!! see you on the paddock yourusername

comment liked by yourusername and 849 others

hungary was warmer than you had expected, that humid sort of heat that made you feel yucky no matter how many times you’d showered. but amongst the sea of sweaty drivers and mechanics, it could have felt much worse. lando had given you the grand tour of the paddock and track but duty called, and with your brother called off to some interview, you were left trackside.

there were no cars due to be on the track, so you were able to get as close as possibly. for years you’d gone to your brothers races, listened to his fanatic rants, and tried so hard to understand why he loved the sport so much. but now, standing and looking out at the quiet track, you started to understand the beauty.

“hello, again.” you jumped a little, the voice cutting through the peace. when you turned, you found fernando on the other side of the pit wall, looking at you through the gap in the fence. you chuckled, feeling caught, looking up at him.

“hi there,” you greeted, blinking innocently. but behind those eyes were little innocence, same as his own. you hadn’t slept with the driver, you weren’t that quick, but the night he’d spent in your apartment was long. wondering kisses, stolen touches, hesitance to leave. you both wanted more, but neither wanted to give in.

“you’re tagging along for the season, then?” he asks, eyes gleaming with possibility. you nod, humming quietly. as excited as you were for this job, another kind of excitement came knowing you’d be seeing fernando every weekend. “first time in hungary?”

“no, second. i travelled with some of my girlfriends during uni and we stopped in budapest for a few days — though i don’t remember most of it,” you admitted, cheeks turning red at the memory. he laughed, head thrown back with pure delight. it made your stomach twist endlessly.

“well, let me refresh your memory. i’ll take you to dinner tonight,” he offers, charming as ever. your brows raise, trying to differentiate his flirtations from his sincerity. “consider it a congratulations on the new job.”

you’re getting ready to refuse, knowing how lando would react and the complications it would bring, when fernando’s hand slipped through the pit wall railing, brushing over yours until it rests on top. you look down, noticing just how much bigger his hand is than yours. stronger, too, with more defined knuckles and much more worn down from years of driving.

“please say yes,” he whispers, even though there’s no one else around, and squeezes your hand softly. you sigh, meeting his deadly gaze once more.

“alright. but i want italian food.”

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yourusername how’d you turn it right around?

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user A MAN’S HAND

lilymhe literally the prettiest girl ever

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍

⤷ user is carlos the mystery man ??????

landonorris i let you out of my sight for five minutes JEEZ

landonorris now who is he so i can break his hands

TWITTER.

IMESSAGE.

writers note: lando stop cockblocking. also that b&w pic of flo is one of my favourites ever i can’t stop staring at it

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 imagine #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #oscar piastri x reader #esteban ocon x reader

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND THINGS THEY

LOVE ABOUT YOU

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

warning : mention of imperfections and insecurities

note : can't wait for the new f1 season because my sundays are so boring

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

you free up time only for him. you're always busy with your essays and assignments which means you don't have much time to spend with your boyfriend. but still you always manage to free up some time just fort him. and he loves that, he feels confident knowing that he is the only one who is so special to you. of course he won't waste a single second of your time together, because he couldn't ask for anything better than spending time with his favorite girl in the world.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

your cuddles. i swear this boy will cuddle you every chance he gets. he loves how your two bodies fit perfectly together in the arms of each other. he'll grab your waist and lay you on the bed, his body on top of you. he'll hold you tight and bury his face in the crook of your neck. you play with his curly hair, your hand gently stroking his back. he places some soft kisses on your neck and collarbones. and he delights in your warm embrace, which provides him so much comfort. like he's home.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

the way you show to the whole world that he belongs to you. it's often subtle but you always try to give everyone a hint about your relationship with charles. to make sure the world knows he's yours. because he secretly loves when you do that. he genuinely feels loved and he loves thinking about the fact that there is only him in your heart.whether it's a matching jewelry or the faint trace of your lipstick on his cheek, he cherishes those little clues that show the world your deep love.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

your eyes softening when you look at him. he notices it, the way you gaze at him, how you stare at him. but he has observed the way your eyes always soften when you look at him. some sparkles in them as you admire the love of your life. and he can't help but get lost in the beauty of your pupils. he stares into your eyes until he finds all the love you hide behind them. he feels special, and he always ends up flustered as his cheeks and face become all red. he turns into a blushing mess under your loving gaze.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

your imperfections and insecurities. gosh how much he loves your insecurities. lewis knows you don't like certain parts of your body and you can be insecure about your flaws. but he wants to show you how beautiful you are despite your imperfections, which he obviously doesn't agree with because you're literally the most prettiest person in this world. every single day he reminds you how perfect you are, and that no matter how insecurities you have he'll always cherises them.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

the way you're just yourself with him. george genuinely adore when you let your true self shine when you're around him. you don't open up to people easily and you're not quite comfortable when you meet one another. but not with george. you trust him and he makes feel you so safe that's why you're not afraid to be you, and he loves so much that. it means so much more than you think, his heart overflows with love every time he is with you.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

your kisses. as simple as it is, he simply loves your kisses. whether soft and sweet kisses or rougher and deeper, he loves every type of kisses. especially after a bad day or a bad race (though 2023 was a pretty good year for him anyway), a kiss from you is all he needs. it's never enough kisses for him, he always asks for one every single minutes and if he doesn't get it then you're sure he'll pout for the rest of the day. but your kisses brings so much comfort and he feels so loved every time.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

your smile. how much he loves your smile it's insane. obviously you two are a perfect match. he's so funny and his sense of humor is the same as you, you two are like the funniest couple of the grid. but daniel uses his humor and jokes mostly for you, just to see your beautiful smile rises on your face. the way your eyes narrow with a few tears of laughter on the edge, the way your smile brightens up his whole day. he just needs to see your smile to feel better. and he wishes you'll never stop smiling because how you look perfect like that.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

your little habits. one thing pierre loves about you is your habits. first in the start of your relationship, he didn't really know about your behavior and your little habits. but then he started to notice them : the way you bite your lips when you're concentrated, when you put the dishes away in a specific order because otherwise it stresses you out, your usual morning routine. he finds these things absolutely cute and he even started to appropriate them too. it shows his love for you.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #pierre gasly x reader

[sunflowersteves]

family video || e.m.

pairing || eddie munson x fem!reader

summary || robin and steve were able to snag eddie munson a job at Family Video and it just so happens that the person of his dreams would be a regular customer.

author’s notes || i refuse to believe vol 2 just happened so here’s a fluffy fic where eddie is most certainly alive

warnings || season 4 vol 2 spoilers, fluff

masterlist

“Does it always feel this weird?”

Robin tapped her finger on the table, bored out of her mind. “Does what feel weird?”

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe the fact that we saved the world a week ago from a monster-psychopath that tried to open four portals to another dimension in the middle of Hawkins and everything is just…Normal?”

Steve grunted while continuing to shelve the movies onto the small cases, “after the four times you save the world,” he sighed, “you get used to it.” 

Eddie could only groan, feeling like he was slightly going insane. After the entire town was out to get him for being a ‘freak’ and accusing him of starting a cult for Chrissy’s murder, he’s not sure he could move on. 

The government tried its best at covering everything up, immediately giving Eddie an alibi and insisting he was innocent. The Goverment also made sure that Chrissy’s death had been a closed case, giving some excuse about drugs and her abusive mom being the culprit. Jason was then put under investigation as a suspect for her murder, just so the accusations could be muddled easier. After a couple of weeks of investigating, Jason was arrested for attacking Lucas and Erica.

Eddie would still sometimes get looks from neighbors and people in Hawkins, but for the most part, he was left alone. No one really wanted to confront him after everything that had happened. 

Robin and Steve luckily were able to beg Keith for Eddie to get a job. They had to practically be on their hands and knees. Eddie was grateful, though. It was a distraction where he could fuck around with his friends and not worry about his problems.

“Great, love to see it.” Robin just snickered at Eddie before immediately receiving a glare.

"How are you so unaffected by this?" Eddie started to fiddle with his rings.

Robin shrugged, "What, Eddie, you want credit or something?" Before he could make a snarky comment back, their conversation cut off by the sound of the ringing bell on top of the door. 

“Welcome to Family Video—” Eddie’s breath left his lungs when he looked up from the computer. Oh, wow, oh shit—

You stood there with a genuine smile on your face, elbows leaning on the counter, while looking at the metalhead in front of you. You were talking to him, and he, for sure, had no idea what the fuck you were saying. 

He just had the wind knocked out of him, and all he wanted to do was stare at your perfect—beautiful—lovely face. The curve of your nose, the way your tongue clicked against your teeth, your eyes staring right back at his—yeah, he was totally fucked. 

“Hey, dingus, she asked you a question.” Robin had her eyebrow raised at the metalhead in front of him. He snapped out of his daze, brown doe eyes wide as he tried to recall what you had said. 

“I–Um–” Robin couldn’t help but have an amusing look on her face. The Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was nervous? He was normally the utmost confident one by shouting and yelling about everything and anything. But here he was, completely and utterly speechless. 

“I was just wondering if you had a copy of Teen Wolf. Sorry, I just couldn’t find it on the shelves when I came yesterday.”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I–um–can show you.” He led the way towards the back of the video store and picked out the exact copy for you. He couldn’t help but feel hot—sweaty and sticky. Was it hot in here? Did Steve forget to turn on the AC?

“Here.” He handed you the copy, but not before your fingers brushed against each other. He could feel his own heart pounding against his ears. You were soft—so so soft. The tingling sensation never left while you smiled brightly at him.

God, you were just so beautiful. He hoped you would come to see him every single day of his entire life. 

“See you around, Munson.”

He deadpanned. You knew his name?

~~

The next time that you came back to the video store was three days from when he had first met. And you bet, Eddie definitely counted each passing minute that you didn’t return the VHS. But he knew that you had to. You just did.

It was another very boring day with Steve and Robin, not much traffic since the weekend was over. He was currently sketching in his book and trying very hard to come up with a new story for the campaign on Friday. 

He heard the bell to the door ring but didn’t bother to look up. He figured that if they needed anything, they would ask him or Robin for help. He was still sketching, his pencil making light marks on the sheets of paper.

“What are you up to, Munson?” 

His heart immediately burst. You. You were here. You were standing right in front of him with a slight teasing gleam in your eyes. Your head was cocked slightly to the side, and your smile was so completely infectious. 

“Oh, it’s just– it’s just for my club that’s this Friday.” 

You blinked, eyelashes falling perfectly onto your face. “Hellfire club? Aren’t you the president?”

Oh. Oh. You knew of the hellfire club? He knew that you weren’t a part of the popular crowd, but he didn’t realize you were into nerdy stuff either.

He was floored, absolutely floored. “You know of my club?” 

You propped your elbows up onto the counter, trying to get a better look at his sketching. “Yeah, my little brother loves D&D, so I’ve played it quite a few times.”

He licks his lips, eyes darting slightly nervously.  “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He sees that you still had Teen Wolf in your hands, and it was leaning against the side of your hip. Right, yeah, work. He has stupid work to do. 

“Here, I can check that back in if you want.” He reaches for the movie, and your eyes widen slightly. Oh, yeah. The movie that you had rented. To be honest, you had forgotten about it. 

You hand it back to him and watch as his eyes scan for your name on the computer. He then types a little on the computer, which you definitely took advantage of by looking at his hands. And oh, wow, his hands. They weren’t perfectly manicured or anything, but the rings that adorned his fingers definitely sprouted butterflies in your stomach.

He turned to you, smiling, “there. you’re all set.” You give him one right back and almost turn to leave. 

“Hey, what if you came to our club?” He leaned just a bit closer towards you.

“What?”

“This Friday at 6:30. Our club meets in Ms. Hank's classroom.” 

You look down at the fake wooden table for just a second as if you’re contemplating. In reality, you were trying to hide that bubbling feeling inside you as he stared at you with such intensity. 

“I might just take you up on that offer.” Before he could even react, you gave a quick kiss on his cheek. His mouth popped open in surprise, he could hear Robin and Steve gasp in the background.

But you had that cheeky smile on your face. Your eyes sparkled once more as you stared at his startled face. You let out a consent sigh before turning around and leaving the store. All he could do was beam. 

“See you around, Munson.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #fix it fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader

[mylonelylittlestar]

XAVIER: RED FLAGS

Summary: Some of Xaviers' tiny and massive red flags Warnings: mentions of murder

Will sometimes not show up to dates because he didn't hear his alarm in his sleep. He feels guilty about it, but it will happen again.

Can't cook at all. Genuine fire hazard in the kitchen, which is pretty bad for a normal human, but he's like... old. He should know how to cook.

Too calm about murder. Like he just isn't bothered when he has to kill people. Doesn't care about corpses and blood, etc. There's no guilt, no shame, nothing. It's a regular Tuesday for him.

He gets a bit confused when you freak out about him killing someone, not realising how odd his behaviour is from your point of view until you spell it out for him.

He probably takes the health of your heart as seriously as Zayne does (if not more seriously) and he will never explain why. He doesn't see the point in coming clean about that stuff.

He will also probably never explain the star tassel on his sword. He will just say that someone he loved very dearly gave it to him a long time ago and never tell you that he's talking about you. He doesn't realise that it makes you feel like you're the second choice unless you explicitly tell him.

Eats your leftovers without asking. Doesn't matter what it is. He's like a racoon.

He will also eat stale chips and flat soda without complaint when he's hungry (and he's always hungry)

Has no playlists on Spotify. He just listens to his liked songs on shuffle

You could get murdered next to him, and he would accidentally sleep through it (and then he would hunt down the people who killed you and wait for your next reincarnation)

Does not own a single pen. Not even one. Or kitchen scissors. Or tape. Or straws. Or more than 3 cups and 4 plates. But he does have a bedframe and nice curtains and bedsheets and beautiful towels, and that makes him better than a lot of other guys.

Has to buy new headphones every 3-5 months because he keeps losing them. He usually forgets them on the subway.

He takes a lot of time in the shower. Sometimes you think he fell asleep while washing out his shampoo.

Top player in the world in some shitty mobile game like garden scapes. He has definitely spent money on it as well after promising himself he would never do that, and thousands of older women worldwide ask themselves who that mysterious number 1 player is who's somehow level 18457

Regularly has to Google most phrases that people around him use because he genuinely doesn't understand them. He also still uses slang that is decades old (he's been alive for a long time and trends die quickly okay. It's hard to keep up with all that stuff)

Takes inaccuracies in historical dramas very personally

Doesn't talk much about his thoughts and feelings unless you explicitly ask him to do so. Would much rather talk about yours instead. He doesn't really think his own thoughts matter that much compared to yours.

He regularly has nightmares about his past. Especially about you dying in his arms (anecdotes 3). He never talks about his nightmares with you. Even begging will not soften him up. To him it would just be an unnecessary burden to place onto your shoulders.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

#buster keaton #harry belafonte #round 4 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man #Youtube

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

THE POWER OF VENUS: SENSUAL AURA; HOW MUCH POWER DOES YOUR BEAUTY CONTAIN?

For Venus Day I wanted to do something special. My favorite girlies are the choices for this reading. Pick which one resonates with you the most, and take a look at each pile ! Have fun!

PILE 1 - AALIYAH - 'The Loveable Child, Aura As Magical As The Clouds.'

You're aura has a mystical charm. Deep inside the inner self is a magical energy that puts people in awe. Your gentleness captivates people and your ability to see the beauty in all that is around you is what makes you much more magical. Your sensual energy is capable of proving a point, being a star is your mission if you have this placement. Because your divine essence is what attracts others to you and others are willing to help you in your mission, desires, dreams, goals, etc.

Message: Be quiet. Not everyone needs to know your mind. Be yourself but be quiet about the things you know. Take it easy, not everyone can be as high in the clouds as you. Heaven's Child.

Numbers & Colors : 333, 555, 777, 111, Pink, Yellow, Green Lavender

Animals : Skunks & Deers (Bambi)

Themes : Loveable, Kind, Sweetness, Adorable

PILE 2 - SELENA - 'A Dream Come True'

Whew. This one is magnetic and its BIG. Big in a way that you can feel it however you're not sure what it is. Your sensual grace forms a lesion of people to honor you no matter how you look. Your charm is essential to awakening the divine feminine in you and others. You have gifts in singing if you've pick this one, as your singing qualities is like a bee being attracted to honey, its calming, tasteful and filled with valuable energy.

Message: You are captivating, never allow jealous or envious beings bring you back to a place that kept you in depression. Leave now. Don't allow them to sink this ship, God sent you to them to heal.

Numbers & Colors : Rainbow , Green, Blue, Orange,

Animals : Gazelles, Lions, Cheetahs, Hamsters & Guinea Pigs

Themes: Bravery, Resilience, Determination, Power

PILE 3 - SALMA HAYEK - 'Witch; Powerful and Formidable Aura'

A Goddess. It is she who walks the darkest roads that comes out on top and flows like no other. Your charm and power holds so much weight. People stop and stare at you from a far. In a daze, no man or woman can stop looking at your psychique and the power you hold can make anyone be hypnotized by your spark. You have a gift in setting the room on fire, holding up the magic in the room and making it fold to your bidding. Powerful qualities in sensual abilities and manifestation abilities are stronger with this group. You have the gift of getting your desires through the power of your charm and ability to be seen in your raw nakedness, take that as you will.

Your flow intimidates people, but your charm is what keeps them running back ;)

Message: Know when to be seen or be heard. Appreciate the joy in being a 'bitch'. Allowing others in just because you said so. Boundaries are not a kept secret, tell them off. Let them know it.

Numbers & Colors : Pink, Red, Magenta & Purple, 1111, 222, 333, 444, 555, 666, 111

Animals : Serpents & Octopus

Themes: Being who you are, Lilith, Oceans are connected to this group.

PILE 4 - BEYONCE - 'Look at me now'

This group is undergoing a big transformation! If not now it's on the way. No enemy shall prosper with this group. Now back to the reading, you guys have an immense power that is connected to a faerie like charm. Very pretty and magical. If you picked this group you may have a venusian energy that connects to a Goddess (this is for you to go within and seek). A high priestess energy from this group and a aura that is valuable no man and woman shouldn't dare come to you without a gift or even an honorable mention. Do what you will with that.

Message: Learn to appreciate the world as is, its just a minor reflection of whats inside of you. Speak highly to others as well as yourself. Be kind to you and to others and watch mountains open for you.

Numbers & Colors: Yellow & Pink, 3333, 444, 888, 1111

Themes: Goddess, Queenlike, Ochun, Pyramids, The world revolves around you, make it happen.

#channeler #intuitive readings #intuition readings #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a photo

[astraystayyh]

nights with hyunjin <3

little fluffy hyunjin fic inspired by the fact he sends good night msgs on bubble at the latest hours. lowercase intended.

2 am

"where do you see yourself in twenty years?" you whisper, buried under the thick white covers with Hyunjin. You can't see his face, but your nose brushes against his and his warm hand is on your back, keeping you close.

"where will you be in twenty years?" he replies instantly and you feel your cheeks heat up at his words.

"hyune, just answer the question," you whine after a few silent beats and he giggles slightly, "i am. doesn't matter where I'll be, as long as you're there."

you draw in a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if his words were keeping you at his mercy, completely unarmed. "you mean it?" you ask, grabbing onto his arm tightly.

"i do," he reassures, bopping his nose softly against yours, "you are my present and future, angel."

3 am

"what are you drawing?" you ask as you enter hyunjin's art studio, two cups of chamomile tea in your hands. you place them down and stand behind hyunjin, who leans his back onto your chest, melting into your touch. you wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, softly kissing the top of his hair. he smells like your shampoo.

"a house," he replies. his left hand wraps around your thigh, grazing up and down the exposed skin. "our house, i hope," he adds quietly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"ours?"

"mm. wanna buy you a house. with a little garden and a view of the beach."

"i'll plant lots and lots of flowers for us there." you smile, admiring the pastel colors blending seamlessly in his painting.

"just make sure they won't die," he teases and you fake a gasp, "are you underestimating my gardening capabilities?"

hyunjin blindly grabs your arm, spinning you around so you'd sit on his lap.

"nonsense, you are my little florist," he grins cheekily and you touch his cheeks softly.

"these are cute," you tell him, referencing to his now apparent dimples. little pools for you to drown in.

"you are cuter."

"I'm still not over your flowers comment."

"I will kiss you for every flower you plant."

"that's a lot of kisses."

"i know," he smiles at you, his eyes turning into moon crescents. yours.

5 am

"can't believe she still likes him," hyunjin huffs loudly and you laugh, your hand softly threading through his hair.

"it's just a show baby."

"i know but listen," he stands up from between your legs, eyes wide looking into yours, "he just told her he doesn't find her beautiful. who says that to their lover?"

"he's stupid, she's clearly out of his league and he's threatened by that."

"right!" he claps in agreement, "she deserves better."

"she does," you giggle as he lays down again, face now buried in your chest.

"you do know i find you the most beautiful person in the world?" he whispers and your eyes soften at him.

"you tell me."

"but do you know it?"

"i do."

"good, because if you didn't then I'm a horrible boyfriend too," he shudders and you giggle at the horrified look on his face.

"you aren't, my love."

later on that night, while you are brushing your teeth, hyunjin pops his head into the bathroom. "baby," he calls out and you hum in reply.

"you are beautiful," he says and you raise an eyebrow in question at him, mouth full of toothpaste.

"just making sure you don't forget it."

4 am

"I'm getting sleepy," you say quietly. it was nearing four am and hyunjin has been playing with your hair for what felt like an eternity. braiding small sections of it, only to open them once again.

"me too."

"let's try to sleep."

"don't want to," he mumbles against your hair and you chuckle. "why?"

"if we go to sleep then it will be morning really soon which means i have to leave you."

his words make your heart clench in your chest. nights with hyunjin were your favorite parts of your existence. there was no pressure, no expectations on the both of you. you could just be two humans in love, under the kind gaze of the moon.

"okay, baby. what do you want to do?"

"i just want to look at you," he says quietly and you nod, getting away from his hold. you lay your head on your pillow and he does the same, this way you're both facing each other.

you feel yourself relax completely under hyunjin's gaze, because it's filled with love. for you. his pointer finger traces over your features, delicately, as if he was grazing a porcelain vase. and you let him. his touch is so soft it makes something warm stir within your stomach. it wasn't untamed butterflies, fluttering their wings to escape. it was something comfortable and safe, finding its home within you.

"you are so pretty," he whispers and you smile softly at his words.

"so are you." your right hand rises gently to rest on top of his cheek, and you swipe your thumb slowly across it. hyunjin's eyes flutter closed at the contact and you feel a wave of fondness flood within you.

you'd do anything to preserve this serene look on his face.

"try to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." you finally say.

"you promise me?"

"i promise."

#not proofread just trying to get out of a writing slump #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz hyunjin #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin

[ahhhsami]

Mizu’s Womanhood

I keep thinking about how well Mizu’s story was written. A huge factor that makes me love the show is how they show Mizu’s abilities during fight scenes, but don’t forget that she is a woman. On the surface level people could see these fights as amazing action sequences, but there’s so much story being told at the same time. And that’s what makes an action sequence truly great (Warrior HBO is another example of amazing storytelling through fight choreography. Ah Toy's fight against Cleaver and Hammer comes to mind right away when comparing). 

We start off by seeing Mizu tear through young men in Shindo Dojo. Her skills are showcased as agile, flexible, fast, and based on her ability to use her body in ways that are fluid. She’s tested as soon as Taigen enters the picture. He’s physically stronger than her, shown in a multitude of ways throughout the action sequence from him throwing her to him pushing her down to her knee, but she’s still more skilled. She uses his weight against him, which she will do in every fight during the series. Mizu beats him due to her agility and speed. On top of that, it is the first time we see a man assume victory be his downfall. And it will happen on multiple occasions.

Episode 2 comes around and Mizu is tested again, but this time by 4 opponents and one who is significantly larger and more trained (Chiaki). Mizu's smart, evaluates her situation, and changes her surroundings by jumping down onto the cliffside. It doesn’t put her at an advantage, but at least she’s not at a severe disadvantage. It allows her to fight mainly one-on-one which changes her circumstances. But it doesn’t win the fight for her. What does is her resilience, adaptability, and skill once more. Once again, in the fight, the man opens himself up for a counter during the finishing blow. Chiaki ran forward, his guard completely down because he was sure he’d won like Taigen.

Episode 5 is where we get to see Mizu struggle due to overwhelming numbers. She’s forced into a corner, but the weapon that saves her is the Naginata. Naginatajutsu has been most associated with female samurai. The added range was a huge advantage and allowed women to protect their homes when their samurai husband were gone. I love that Mizu's first time using the weapon extensively was in a situation where it wasn’t her own life on the line, but also the women of the brothel. It showcased the connection between the Naginata, women, and protection in a beautiful way. Also, her using it during these circumstance felt like she was reclaiming the weapon from the traumas she had experienced during Mikio's betrayal. The parallels of Mizu not just being demonized for her blue eyes, but also for being a woman was stunning in this episode.

In Episode 6, we see Mizu almost lose to the big club man (Okiyama). We see her completely overpowered by the size difference. Okiyama can pick her up easily, throw her, and she’s unable to parry him properly. For the first time we truly see the difference between a man’s strength and hers (which will also be present against Fowler). The fact that both Fowler and him pick her up, and attempt to crush her with their bare arms is so powerful and as a woman, it’s a striking parallel to the real world and the powers of men. She was going to lose the fight if not for her last ditch effort, that also could have resulted in her own death with the bomb. It shows her willingness to sacrifice everything for the quest she's on. And at the end of the episode, Fowler manhandles her completely. It doesn’t matter that she’s injured, it doesn’t matter that he has a gun. What matters in that scene is that he takes pleasure in using his power. He destroys the weak and he lords over them. He uses women as sex slaves. He cares for no one but himself. He is the perfect representation of what Mizu as a woman has to fight against. 

There’s no fight scene in Episode 7 of note, but what is important is Mizu’s acceptance of her appearance, whether it be the blue eyes and sharp features, or her womanly features, all of them had once been sources of pain for her. The heart sutra scene is stunning and one of my favorites of the entire series (even if her little toesies were most likely being burned to be so close to the makeshift forge).

And finally Episode 8. We get to see her fight Fowler. I have multiple gripes with the structure of this fight, but it still represents Mizu’s womanhood in a way that continues the flow of the series. Mizu has to use everything to take down Fowler and even when she does she is still overpowered by him. He mirrors Okiyama, easily lifting her and using his strength over her instead of skill. And the line “your bones break like a woman’s” shows the societal norm that men associate with women being weaker, fragile, and unable to withstand what men can. It's fitting of the time period, but also current day too.

But hubris is the man’s downfall in this series because as soon as he lets his guard down, she takes her chance. She breaks free, her rage, need for vengeance, and essential reason for being at this point drive her to beat him. The single line “Oh my dear, that’s your white half showing,” doesn’t just target her being mixed race, but also being a woman. Fowler doesn’t let up there though, he calls her eyes pretty. And not just because they’re blue, but because they’re of a woman’s. He brings up unwanted daughters and digs the knife deeper. And these last lines from Fowler represent everything that Mizu has been combating, everything that has been driving her. There’s so much to her character. The writing in this series shows how multiple compounding factors contribute to a person's drive. And in this instance, it shows how being a woman and half-white has lead to Mizu’s self-hatred and it’s beautiful in such a destructive way. 

#blue eye samurai #mizu #I have my gripes with the show but Mizu's character is not one of them lol #Love her/them so much <3 #Taigen #Fowler #Chiaki #Okiyama #long post

[blazernot]

Top ten staircases in kh

10. The staircase mineshaft from 0.8

Look we all love Aqua she's a queen she's great shes iconic and peoples first crushes but she has much more iconic staircases imo. Also it's falling apart and that's not safe

9. The cover of one of the piano books

She's beautiful she's famous she is the moment but this isn't a location from the games so sadly I have to place it low

8. The staircase from the kh2 opening

Very neat very cool you can run on the top and bottom but once again I can't climb it in game and it's symbolic of Riku and Sora distance and that makes me sad so it's low :<

7. Kh3 Olympus Coliseum

Sora finally goes to heaven

6. The staircase where Aqua considers murdering people

My favorite aqua scene

5. Peach's dream

Little did Peach know but Roadie is actually a prophet and sent her a divine vision of what today was going to be like. I'd also put rosies but imagine limit you know how it is

4. The ghost staircase from 2 or something I don't remember what happens here

There's a staircase you can shred on but I don't think it's this one

3. Why was this one so long like

They don't cut why don't they cut. Iconic

2. The world of Scala ad caelum

Without a doubt the most impressive staircase on the list

1. The ramp

Accessibility win!!! You should always be considerate of others when designing spaces

#kingdom hearts

[tomhollandisabae]

lonely- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; after simon had left for his next mission, you were faced with the biggest challenge of your life and you had to get through that all by yourself.

warnings; angst, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of death, english is not my first language

words; idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n; this idea was stuck into my brain since last week and once i couldn't find anything similar to it anywhere to read, i decided to write it myself. also you can send me your requests!!

a/n2; f1 fans please don't come after me i know you're expecting the 2nd part of the story with lewis but i have no motivation to write it😭i'll do it some time, but i don't know when. uni has been draining me out so much.

"please take care of yourself " was the last thing you told simon -your husband - before he left for yet another mission.

now it had been 12 months and there was no sign of him. however, a lot had happened in the past year, but most importantly you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl -all by yourself.

when you had found out that you were expecting, simon was long gone and you had no way to communicate with him. the only thing that you could do was to get through this pregnancy all alone. thank god that maternity leave was a thing, otherwise you had no idea how you could manage having a baby all by yourself.

whatsoever, you couldn't be mad at your husband as a matter of fact that you had found out about your pregnancy only one week after he had left, while the guilt was everyday eating you alive.

you had no idea how he would react though. you were aware of his past and how his father had treated him.

simon is a lovely human being... towards you. he's a sweet, loving and caring husband and you are absolutely sure that he will make a great father.

you had went through a lot during your pregnancy and you could admit that it wasn't an easy one; mood swings, cravings, morning sickness, back pain etc.

the worst part of it all was when you went into labour. you had spent hours and hours trying to bring the little bundle of joy, that you and the love of your life had created together, into this world.

and after many hours of pain and screaming you were finally holding your baby girl in your arms. the first thing that you had noticed about her were her eyes -same as her father's- and that made your eyes well up with tears.

now it had been almost 4 months since you had given birth and the constant stress of taking care of a baby by yourself had tore you apart both physically and emotionally. you were barely sleeping, you had lost your appetite and were actually a walking wreck.

some nights you would spend them in your bed crying yourself to sleep, wishing your husband was here to help you out.

currently, you were taking a shower as you heard your daughter crying. sighing deeply, you got out and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the nursery.

you took her in your arms and sat down on the rocking chair, lowering your towel and starting feeding her. once she was fed, you put her back to sleep and went into your room, changing quickly and laying on your bed.

you brought both your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out any kind of light source and bit on your bottom lip trying not to cry, again.

as your mind wander in different places, you didn't hear the front door opening and closing as well as the heavy footsteps on the staircase.

you only raised your head as you saw your bedroom door opening, revealing your husband.

immediately, you were flooded by many different emotions as you jumped up from the bed and attacked him in a -suffocating- hug.

simon chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms protectively around you and kissed the top of your head.

"i can't believe that you're back." you pulled away for a moment "you're actually back." you embraced him again not having noticed the tears that were spilling from your eyes.

"i'm sorry it took me too long my love" he mumbled on top of your head as he squished you in his arms.

"i missed you" you lifted your head up, looking at him.

"i missed you y/n" he leaned down and slowly brought his lips on top of yours kissing you softly and yet so loving.

sooner or later, however, you broke away as you looked up at him with a huge smile.

"i have to show you something" you said excited and grabbed his hand, leading him out of your bedroom and across the hall way.

you glanced at him anxiously as you slowly opened the door of your baby's room. you turned on the lights and guided simon inside.

you were looking carefully at him as his expression changed from a curious one to a shocked.

"love..." he exclaimed as he turned to look at you while his bottom lip was trembling.

"i found out one week after you left. i had no way to tell you, simon, i'm so sorry" the guilt took over you.

"shh it's okay." he wrapped his arms once again around you as you sobbed into his chest.

"i just... it was awful, simon. first the guilt that there was a way to tell you, but i was too stupid to think about it and second all the pain, the emotions, everything... i just feel so... useless." you cried out.

"hey" he grabbed both your cheeks and looked you in the eye "you're the strongest woman i've ever known in my entire life, y/n. not only for going through a pregnancy and labour by yourself, but also for being able to get through that with being aware of a chance of me never coming back again and yet you got enough courage and look where that brought you love."

it was true. every time he would go on a new mission, the curiosity of his well being would kill you. every single day you were checking you mail for a letter that would be proclaiming your husband dead.

"i love you so much simon" you raised on your tiptoes and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"i love you more sweetheart." he lifted your head once again and kissed you softly.

you were so grateful for the feeling of his warm, soft lips against yours, kissing them with so much love and care. every single time you would be in his radar, this man would worship the ground you were walking on.

finally, you pulled away with a small smile.

"come on" you guided him towards the crib where the newborn baby was sleeping in soundly.

carefully, you picked her up in your arms and turned towards simon that was looking at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing on earth.

"do you want to hold her?" you suggested.

"i... i don't know how" he admitted and you kissed his cheek smiling.

"that's why i'm here for. i'll show you how." you said and just like that you handed the small baby over to your husband that was feeling as if he was holding the most fragile thing in the world.

"she's... so small." he stroked lightly her rosy cheek with his thump.

what took you aback was that her little hand enveloped his pinky finger, holding it firmly. you gasped and his breath hitched in his throat.

"wow she didn't even do that to me. only knowing you for a few minutes and she's already a daddy's girl." you complained jokingly placing your hands on your hips.

"really doubt that. there's no one better than you." he kissed your forehead and your face broke into a huge smile as you wrapped your arms around your husband, admiring the way your daughter was rested in her father's chest, not really believing that you had finally built a family with the man you loved most in the entire world.

at that moment, you couldn't be more happy.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod x reader #cod x you #mw2 x reader

[repulsiveliquidation]

“I don’t need you.”

“You don’t, but we do.”

Leah Williamson x Georgia Stanway x Reader

2.8k, I went overboard lol but this was fun to write. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood and knives. Euros 2022 Final where you’re hurt and the two of them struggle to keep you alive. It gets dark so read at your own risk!

Lionesses v. Germany, Euro 2022 Final. The changing room is tense, all the girls quiet and getting into game mode. You’re in your cubby, listening to a playlist Georgia insisted would get you into the right headspace before a game. Leah sits across from you, leg bouncing and face in a deep frown. Georgia is messing about with Alessia, giggling about some video they saw on Instagram. Everyone has their own way of getting into their headspaces and you find yourself making eye contact with the best captain in the world. Your headphones come off and you walk up to her, eyes softening when you see the fear in her eyes that she so desperately tries to get rid of.

“Come with me for a minute.” You tell her, reaching for her arm.

“I can’t, the game starts in 20 minutes!” Leah loudly whispers but follows you, being dragged into the showers for a little chat.

Georgia had been watching this interaction, excusing herself and following behind Leah quietly. She knew that Leah would be stressed and knew that only you could calm her. She was met with a Leah that was almost in tears and you cradling her head against your chest in the furthest shower stall there was. She sighed softly, heart breaking for Leah. She quietly came towards you, hands wrapping around you both with kisses to both of your foreheads.

“How we doing, Lee?” Georgia asks quietly, hand slowly moving lower to rub her back as you kissed Leah softly and pushed her baby hairs out of her face.

“I feel like my hearts gonna give out. Fuck I can’t catch my breath. What if we lose? What if we just fucking throw this game away and fuck up and it’s all my fault? I really don’t know what Sarina was thinking, picking me as captain. Someone else deserves this arm band, I might just-“

She was cut off by half the team in the showers looking at her and hearing her ramble. She was so in her head that she didn’t notice that Georgia had taken your spot and you went and called the rest of the girls still in the changing rooms into the shower to comfort their captain. Tears stained her cheeks and Georgia did her best to wipe them away. You were beside her again, holding her hand and rubbing her forearm.

“No one would have been able to bring us this far, Lee. Everyone on this team knows you’re the only one who deserves to wear that arm band.” Lucy spoke up, all the girls nodding in agreement.

“You’re the best part of all of us, Leah. Come on, we’ve got a trophy to win alright? Save some of those tears for after will ya? Don’t waste them!” Ella yelled, all the girls cheering their captain on as she finally had a smile on her face. It was the most beautiful smile both you and Georgia had ever seen and you wanted to keep it on her face for as long as possible.

Kick-off

The game was going alright. Germany had maintained good defense over the first half, nearly scoring but Mary Earps was a force to be reckoned with. The second half saw Tooney thrust the Lionesses into the lead with a beautiful chip over the keeper. Germany doubled down and equalized ten minutes after, the wear and tear of the tournament finally showing as the Lionesses let that one slip. Of course, it had to be Chloe Kelly who sent in the winning goal, doing a well-earned shirtless celebration as the final whistle was blown two minutes later. You all piled on top of her, celebrations rampant as the Wembley stadium erupted with the same shouts of celebrations.

You didn’t see him coming. You didn’t see the glint of a 4-inch blade drawn from his back pocket. Security too busy holding out other fans from spilling onto the pitch. He made a beeline for you, eyes dark and angry. He grabbed you by the shoulder and before you knew it, the knife stabbed into the right side of your abdomen. The sheer shock of it all sent you to the ground hunched over, hand pressed to your side as he pulled the knife out and disappeared into the crowd.

Leah notices first. Her eyes looked all over for you till she heard yells from the crowd of your name. A little puddle of red alarmed her as she suddenly saw you laying on the grass in a pool of your own blood.

“Y/N!” she yelled. Crouching down beside you, holding your wound. “FUCKING CALL THE MEDICS!” was what registered next. Georgia suddenly appeared beside you; hand pressed over Leah’s as they both tried to stop the bleeding. The crowd was so silent you could hear a straw drop.

“You’re going to be okay, darling. I need you to stay awake for me, sweet. Keep looking at me baby, shh shh it’s okay. We’re getting you help.”  Georgia spoke but she sounded so far away. Your eyes closed for a second before Leah slapped your face gently and your eyes opened again. She was crying, Georgia was too. “Stay with me, love. I love you so much,” was the last thing you heard before you couldn’t fight the urge to sleep any longer.  

That beeping noise was immensely irritating. Beep, beep, beep. Why were there so many tubes and shit tangled around me? It’s a little chilly in here, would it kill you to turn the heat on? I mean seriously, these tubes are a nightmare. Your thoughts are interrupted by a pair of blue eyes that would make anyone look twice. Leah’s eyes. You could pick them out in a crowd. So blue and so full of emotion you could read her like an open book. What was she doing here?

“Y/N/N, welcome back my darling.” Leah says, her voice still distant but clear.

“She’s awake? Don’t lie to me Leah, it’s not funny.” A second voice enters the room. It’s familiar too, accent thick with worry. Georgia’s dark brown eyes show themselves as they both hover over you. It’s nice, they’re doing you a favor by blocking out those pesky bright lights.

There are suddenly more people in the room than you’d like, poking and prodding at you. Hands that you do not want touching you thankfully do their work fast and efficiently. They switch out your oxygen mask for tubes and give you another pillow and your sad hospital lunch. They’ve left the room in 20 minutes, the two girls whom you want near you finally able to settle on either side of your bed away from prying eyes.

“You scared us half to death, Y/N.” Leah says with a sad voice you never want her to use again. Tears well up in Georgia’s eyes and they both hold your hand that is resting on your stomach.

“What happened? I-I can’t remember it that well, it’s all so hazy.” You say with a sore throat. Georgia is quick to give you some water, holding the straw for you to sip. You drink for a while, thankful for the cold liquid soothing your parched throat.

Leah’s eyes are uncertain, doubtful if she wants to make you relive yesterday morning. The stabbing had sent you into a deep sleep, thankfully only for a day. The ambulance that brought you here was at the pitch within two minutes of the call to 999. The two girls never left your side, Georgia following you into the ambulance as Leah was driven right behind the ambulance by Alessia and the rest of the girls. The win was forgotten, every single one of them only had you on their minds. Leah was a mess in the car, shaking like a leaf as Alessia sped after the ambulance. Tooney and Lucy held her, keeping her calm and reassuring her that you’d be alright. She believed them, telling herself over and over on the quick ride to the hospital that you’d be okay.

Georgia kept it together in the ambulance, one of the loves of her life holding on as much as she could. It was so hard to look at you in the stretcher, beautiful face pale and sickly. Her hands and shirt were covered in your blood, the paramedics managing to stuff your wound with gauze and the bleeding was controlled. She knew you’d be okay, her heart hoping Leah knew that too. She held onto your hand tightly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fell in and out of consciousness. She recognized the white Mercedes weaving through traffic, hazards on and following the speeding ambulance. She told you that the girls were right behind us and that Leah was right there with them. She told you to hold on, she told you they didn’t know if they’d be able to live without you. You heard her, wanting so much to hold her and tell her that you loved her and that you would be okay but, everything hurt and you were too numb to move.

The doctors worked swiftly on your wounds, the knife barely missing your diaphragm and nicking your large intestine. You had lost too much blood and flatlined once, the doctors quick to pounce on your chest and resuscitate you. You were fighting, you knew people relied on you too much for you to give in. The five-hour surgery was a success and soon you were being wheeled into a private room as the doctors told the entire team occupying the waiting room the relieving news. There wasn’t a dry face anywhere, tears of joys pouring out at the news of you making it through the hardest part of this long journey. Leah and Georgia rushed to the room they now knew you were in, the rest of the girls hanging back knowing you only needed them.

The sight of all those annoying tubes broke their hearts. You looked so tired and used, fresh tears falling down their faces. Both girls silently moved to one side each, hands reaching for your cold ones as you slept peacefully. Soon the repetitive beeps of the machines lulled them to sleep, thankful that you were alive and here with them.

Lucy walked in with Alessia and Kiera. They smiled softly at the sight of the three of you sleeping. They gently woke Leah and Georgia, having brought food and a change of clothes for them. The doctors updated them on your condition, Kiera shooting a quick text to the group chat to ease their worries. Leah shot up, eyes red with fatigue and a stiff neck. She reached for Kiera, hugging her tight and thanking her for the food and clothes. Alessia gently helped Georgia wake up, guiding both of them to the table in your room to have some food. They found it hard to swallow anything but tried, knowing they needed to. Alessia and Lucy watched over you as they ate, Less softly brushing your hair out of your face as Lucy rubbed your forearm softly.

Kiera had to force the pair out of the room to change, dragging them away to the showers to force them to take one, their hands still slightly caked with your blood. They showered together, helping one another to clean up which made them feel better to have familiar hands do the work. They couldn’t do it for themselves but they’d be damned if they didn’t take care of the other before themselves. Leah held Georgia’s face in her hands and Georgia stared at her as her hands held her wrists, gaze holding the same tear-filled eyes she had despite standing under the rain shower. They kissed hard, kisses full of too many emotions for them to express any other way. “She’ll be okay, Gee. She’s a fighter, she is.” Leah said softly, willing her heart to believe her own words. Georgia could only nod, muttering a soft “I know,” before leaning in to kiss Leah again. They held each other under the warm water, Kiera having left to give them both a minute.

They walk back into your room looking fresher than before. Hair both damp and wearing clean clothes. They both needed that shower and intimate time with each other, it soothed worries that they did not know how to voice; so glad that their relationship was strong and deep enough that they did not need to use words to express their feelings. “Any changes?” Georgia asks, moving to the couch to snuggle with Alessia as Leah returned to your side. “No Gee, she’s still asleep.” Lucy told her, hand lacing into Leah’s as they both sat with you. Kiera walked in 10 minutes later with steaming cups of coffee and a few more Lionesses. They all hung around, speaking to each other and taking turns watching you. You made noises a few times, shifting in your deep drug-induced sleep which made Leah and Georgia’s hearts leap out of their chests as you merely went back under.

“I’m sorry I scared you girls.” You say after listening to Leah and Georgia fill you in. “I’m okay now, you two look exhausted.”

“Don’t be sorry darling, nothing compared to the day you’ve had, love. They say you can go home tomorrow now that you’re awake, hm?” Leah tells you, eyes happier than you’ve seen in the past two days. Georgia begins to open up your lunch, gently pushing the table over to you to eat. “The girls went over to the house and set up the guest room for us. That way you don’t need to worry about the stairs. Lotte’s got Marlo too so he isn’t a bother for a bit. I think Less and Tooney drove my car over too so we can go home tomorrow, how’s that sound?” Georgia tells you, grimacing at the sickly-looking hospital food.

“Better than that looks, that’s for sure.” You quip, a look of disgust on your face.

This makes Leah laugh, leaning forward and kissing your forehead then whispering “There’s my girl.”

//

The first week back home was unlike anything you have experienced before. The pain was unbearable and the nightmares were something you didn’t wish on your worst enemy. You couldn’t remember your attackers face, but the news refreshed your memory when he was caught just four days after the attack. Cameras from the stadium managed to pick him up leaving the stadium after and they found his car abandoned before he was arrested and convicted. The three of you felt relief wash over you, knowing he was gone from your lives for a long time. You naively thought the nightmares would stop since you were really just worrying about him finding you but they somehow got worse. Leah and Georgia could barely keep you asleep for an hour before you had another one, shaking and sweating with shouts of their names. It frustrated you and broke their hearts into a billion pieces each. Both of them wanted to take your pain away and it physically hurt them to see you suffering.

One night you had another nightmare but somehow didn’t stir the two girls sleeping on either side of you. You carefully crawled out of bed, grabbing a fluffy blanket around your shoulders and walking out to the living room. You sat on the couch, mind racing faster than you liked. You began to rock back and forth, knees pulled to your chest. You couldn’t catch your breath, head spinning as the memories flash before your eyes.

Strong arms suddenly wrap around you, another pair grabbing your crying face. “Y/N, look at me!” Leah said loudly. A wave of anger came over you, pushing both of them away and standing; hot, frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks. “Leave me alone! Why the fuck are you always meddling? I don’t need you to coddle me! I am capable of taking care of myself! I’m not fucking helpless like you think! Just because you don’t have pain or just because you can fucking sleep doesn’t mean you need to pretend to want to help me! I DON’T NEED YOU!” you yell, voice hoarse by the fourth statement you make. You’ve fallen to your knees, Georgia catching you just in time before you crumple to the ground. They both hold you, your frustration let out in huge waves. You cried for half an hour, hearing both of them repeating the same thought you had in the operating room that kept you fighting “You may think you don’t need us baby but we do. We were both a mess when you got hurt, I don’t think either of us would have survived if it wasn’t for you. You hold us together baby, we love you to bits for it, you’re our special girl.”

It made you cry more, their words sinking into your head. You were wrong, you did need them. You needed them more than ever and they weren’t going anywhere.

#woso soccer #woso imagine #lionesses #leahwilliamson x reader #georgia stanway x reader #leah williamson #georgia stanway #georgia stanway imagine #leah williamson imagine #euros2022 #angst #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[writinghotchner]

Wait I love girldad!hotch so much. Hotch x Reader where they have a baby girl? Since it's christmas maybe a cute family xmas moment with them and Jack?

god, i love girldad!hotch too 😭

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: e warnings: none

this isnt as christmassy as i really wanted but this is where the story took me?? 🤷‍♀️ anyway, i hope you enjoy it! <3

it was relatively late when you finally dragged your tired feet through the front door of your home. later than you usually get home, anyway. 7 pm isn't usually late for most people, but you're usually home by 4, 4:30 at at the latest. a holiday party fiasco kept you later than normal and you could've snuck away sooner if it hadn't of been for your boss stalking and lurking his way through the building.

as you step inside and kick off you heels, you're immediately hit with two things. 1. something smells so good and, 2. your daughter has once again been possessed by the loudest screamiest demon to ever travel the dark realms.

you quickly shrug off your coat and drop your bag off at the door and make your way to the smells and noises. you travel down the small hallway, taking in the christmas decorations that adorn the walls, you trail by the big beautiful christmas tree thats fully lit and standing so tall in the living room, and then you finally round your way into kitchen where you see your husband with your nine month old daughter strapped to his chest, the carrier straps crisscrossed along his back giving it away. he's bouncing her as he speaks while stirring whatever it is he's making on the stove. you lean against the door frame with a smile listening to the cuteness in front of you.

your daughter's screaming has calmed down now, it's now just a hiccupping cry accompanied by little sniffles here and there. you see hotch use his spare hand to bring it up to cup the back of the little girls head.

"i know, baby, i miss her too, but she'll be home and we'll both be so happy, huh?" he steps away from the stove and starts swaying her, his hand never leaving the back of her head. he turns a little giving you access to her little face and you can then see her big beautiful brown eyes staring up at him and the worlds biggest frown on her face. even from this distance you can see her face is red from screaming and she still has globs of tears threatening to leave her eyes at any given moment.

"i'll put on a wig and one of mommy's shirts if it'll make you feel better," he says in his baby-talk voice. "i'll do whatever you want if you'll just stop giving me those big sad eyes."

you can't help but to chuckle at that. you step more into the kitchen to rest your elbows against the island counter directly behind him.

"what's goin' on in here?" you finally say and hotch spins around, his face cracking open with a smile.

"hey!" he laughs through his smile, "when did you get home?"

"just now." you tell him. you stand behind him and pop up on your toes to peer over his broad shoulder at your baby girl. she's nearly stopped crying at this point but the second her eyes land on you and she realizes who you are, she full on screams, the tears sitting in her eyes now free falling down her cheeks. her face scrunches up so much you wonder how it's even possible.

"oh, baby," you coo, moving to stand next to your husband as he helps you pull her out of the carrier. "what's the matter, huh? stuck at home with daddy all day got you the blues?"

hotch turns to glare at you for that. "we had a good time." he says turning back to the stove. "you know, until she started screaming at me."

you hold her close to your chest, your lips resting on the top of her soft head. she almost immediately calms, save for a few shuttering breaths. you sway her slowly, giving her a little squeeze of comfort.

"where's jack?" you ask, turning to look back into the living room to see if he was in there watching tv.

"he's probably in his room getting ready."

you blink a couple of times, your eyes drifting up to think about why jack would be getting ready to go somewhere. and then it hits you.

"oh, no, dave's is tonight?" you questioned, checking the time on the on the stove. dave had invited the entire bau gang + family to his house for christmas eve dinner, it had been in your planner since thanksgiving.

hotch turns to look at you. "yeah. is that a problem? we can cancel if-"

"no! no, it's okay. i just forgot. it's been a long tiring day." you sigh, a little mad at yourself for forgetting.

hotch opens the oven door and takes out a batch of what looks like sugar cookies. he uses his foot to close the door behind him as he sets the cookie tray down, and then he shuffles his socked feet over to you, quickly enveloping you and your daughter in a hug. he smiles at you lovingly before he kisses your lips and then kisses his daughter's head.

"i can take the kids if you want to stay here."

you shift the now sleeping baby to your left arm and use your right arm to pull him closer to you, reconnecting your lips.

"that's sweet. but i don't mind going, really. my social battery might be a little on the dead side, though." you kiss him again with a hum, chuckling softly when you taste the sugar cookies on his lips.

he smiles against you. "okay," he says, taking the baby out of your arms. "i'll take her, you go check on jack and then go get ready. everything in here is nearly done, and then all i have to do is get changed and put her in her christmas onesie." the little girl whines a little as shes moved but doesn't make much of an effort to wake up or cry. he sits her back in her carrier, her head lulling to his chest, her little lips smacking as she settles into him. you nearly cry at the sweetness of it all. especially the thought of the littlest hotchner in her green christmas tree onesie that penelope had gotten her before she was even born.

"she's fine, honey, get outta here." and with that, he lightly snaps a hand towel across your butt grinning.

you laugh and turn to leave the kitchen but not without throwing "keep that up, hotchner, and we won't leave this house," over your shoulder. and then you're gone.

"oooh, mommy's being mean to daddy, little one." hotch stage whispers. she doesn't move or even open her eyes. "oh, i see how it is. take her side, huh?"

#fic request #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #*mine #*reader

[decaying-church]

Kinktober day 2: Threesome + Dwayne & Paul (The Lost Boys)

Dwayne (The Lost Boys) x Male!reader x Paul (The Lost Boys)

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 3 | Ao3

(A/n: 29 days left)

Summary: you wake up with not one, but two boyfriend in your bed!

Warning: Face riding, ass eating, blowjob, riding, threesome, reader gets held down, swearing, (technically) breaking and entering, not beta read.

Word count: 2k

It wasn't often you woke up sandwiched between two men- usually it was four, and not it your house. Apparently, Dwayne and Paul missed you enough to drive to your house in the middle of the night and crawl into bed with you- not to sleep, not to watch you sleep. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you woke up around four in the morning and found Paul, as beautiful as he was, three inches away from your face.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

You would have fallen out of bed if it weren't for Dwayne who laid comfortably behind you- not comfortable for you, you didn't know he was there and damn near had a stroke when he wrapped his arms around.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast!” Paul said, smiling like he hadn't just scared you shitless.

“Well fuck, I wonder why!” you said, fully awake now.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking hard, the only light in the room was the little desk lamp that Paul seemingly turned on every time he was in your bedroom.

“When did you two get here?”

Paul looked at Dwayne, Dwayne gave no response.

“Sometime between 9 pm and 4 am..”

“Oh so anytime after the sun went down to now.”

“Basically.” he grinned.

Wordlessly, you rolled over.

“Morning.” he said.

“Good morning, how long have you two been here?”

“‘Bout 5 hours.”

You laid flat on your back, “you've been sitting here watching me sleep for 5 hours?”

They looked at each other again. Neither of them sleeps at night so it's not like they could use that as an excuse. The longer they stared at each other, like they were telepathically trying to come up with an excuse, the more sure you became that they were, in fact, sitting and watching you in the dark.

“Fucking creeps..” you said, but your tone held no real burden, and a small smile found it's way on your face as you slid out of Dwayne grip and out of bed.

Before they could drag you back down, you walked over to the backroom and locked the door, not like that could really stop them.

You pissed, brushed your teeth, and washed your face before walking back out.

You were gone for eight minutes, max.

When you came back the currents were drawn shut and the over head light was on. The most jarring change though was Dwayne and Paul humping like dogs in your bed. With Paul situated in Dwayne's lap, grinding their crotches together like the world was going to explode if they didn't, all while Dwayne guided him with firm hands on his hip.

You blinked.

They stopped after a moment, Paul climbed off of Dwayne, sitting next to him with his legs cocked wide open, a bulge pressing tightly against his white jeans, smirking as he rested against your pillows.

Dwayne wasn't any better, his pants were unbuttoned and pulled slightly down on his hip. One leg hanging off the bed, he stared right into you damn soul, eyes as intense as always.

The two of them stared at you so expectantly, they weren’t even going to ask, they were just going to wait for you to come to them. Which you were, you were tired and a little confused, but definitely not dumb enough to let this opportunity pass. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at their shared cockiness, you climbed onto the bed, almost immediately you were attacked by Paul- fully attacked, he tackled you down to the bed, climbing on top of you in a similar way to how he was with Dwayne.

He kissed wherever he could reach, his long, blonde hair falling in your face when he came to kiss your lips. With your hand on his thigh, you flipped- later he would say that you ‘threw’ him, you did not- off of you.

Before you could push yourself up, your arms were grappled and pinned above you, looking up, you could see Dwayne smirking down at you.

You tried to pull your wrist away, only for him to hold you tighter, not like you were going anywhere to begin with, fucking vampire strength. The moment you were distracted by Dwayne, Paul acted, seating himself on your thighs, closer to your knees than anything, and pulling your pants down all too eagerly, you glared at him when you heard a small rip.

“Paul,” Dwayne warned, “gently, remember?”

“I know, I know,” he looked down at you, a small smile on his face, “sorry.”

Despite his words, you could tell he wasn’t even remotely sorry, which was only proven when he fully ripped your pants before, they could have been fixed before, but now they were in prices on your bedroom floor.

“Goddamnit, Paul!”

“They were ripped!”

“I could have fixed them!”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine! I’ll makes it up to you.”

Before the bargain for a new pair of pajama pants could start, you felt a warm, wet stripe against your cock, you gasped, your body tendering in surprise for a short moment before relaxing again, he continued, mouthing at your cock through your underwear, with Dwayne pinning you down to keep you from escalating things. Paul, with all the same vampiric strength that Dwayne and the other boys had, grabbed you by the waist, but didn’t stop you from thrusting up against his mouth, he liked it far too much for that.

He tried to be patient and gentle like Dwayne had told him to be but he couldn’t, he watched as your head fell back against the bed, a long moan coming from deep in your chest when he swirled his tongue around the tip of your cock.

A second later, your underwear were in tatters on the floor with your pants. You didn't have time to think about the loss of contact- and underwear- Paul took well over half of your cock into his mouth, moaning around it- you weren't shocked, he's done this to you dozens of times before, but it felt so good every time. He was beyond skilled with his tongue, running it over every little sensitive spot you provided to him, drawing shapes with it.

Cracking your eyes open you could see Dwayne staring at Paul, a small smirk on his face. You could see how hard he was, Paul having clearly done a number on the both of you, but with the way he was pinning you down, you couldn’t do anything about it. He was always the silent observer of the group anyway, you figured just watching would satisfy him for now.

Saliva and pre-cum covered both your cock and the inside of his mouth, and the moment he felt that you were ready, he pulled off with a wet ‘pop’.

You didn’t whine or beg, you knew that these two had far too high of sex drives for this to be over so soon.

You looked up at Dwayne, then down at Paul, who didn’t exchange a single word with each other before simultaneously jumping into action. You let out a small laugh as Paul struggled to get his pants off, surprisingly, he did eventually get them off in one piece.

Dwayne let go of your wrist, you watched him as he swapped places with Paul, except he practically sat himself on top of your cock. You don’t know when he lost his pant, but when you looked, his hard, leaking cock was pressed right up against yours.

“Okay, so-“ Paul started with a wide smile on his face, he was almost giddy as he began explaining their little plan to you, “Me and Dwayne were talking about this all night! We were talking about our fantasies and stuff- just guy stuff y’know and-

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“-is it weird that I think about riding Y/n, like all the time?”

Dwayne hummed before responding, “No, I think about it too, it’s not weird.”

Paul propped himself up on his arm, “Okay but I think about riding his face a lot, is that even possible with him?”

“You’ve done it with David-“

“I know, but it’s different, vampires can’t suffocate, humans can!”

“I doubt that you’ll suffocate him.”

“I might!”

You stirred in your sleep at the sudden noise, both boys went quiet for a moment, waiting for you to settle again. When you did, Dwayne whispered to Paul, “Just be gentle with him and he’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“-then while you were in the bathroom-“

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck he looks good-“

“You’ve been staring at him all night, of course he looks good to you.”

“You stared just as much as I did!”

“He faced you for the first 5 hours-”

“Whatever, whatever..”

Silence passed between them for a few moments.

“…you think he'd be down for it?”

“For what?”

“Letting me sit on his face, you think he'd let me?”

“Probably…”

Another silence.

“You wanna tag team him..?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“-and that's just my really long winded way of asking if I can ride your face with Dwayne rides your dick?”

“You underhanded, sneaky, little motherfucker- you too Dwayne!”

“Yes, yes, all of that, but are you going to do it?”

“Of course I am!”

Again, you weren't stupid and you weren't going to let an opportunity pass you.

It didn't take the three of you long to get comfortable. Paul held himself open just inches from your face and Dwayne was already pressing the tip of your cock against his entrance. Dwayne sunk down slowly, appreciating the burning stretch every inch brought, Paul sat on your face like it was a goddamn chair. You moaned as Dwayne rode you, right against Paul’s hole. You figured that there was no better time to start. Taking both his hips into your hands, you held him steady as you prodded at his hole with your tongue, pressing inside with a bit of force. Already, he whined and tried to press more into himself, and you have him more, hearing him moan and watching as he used one hair to grab onto your hair, and the other to hold onto the head board, trying to stable himself.

You couldn't see Dwayne but you could feel him, he rode nice and slow, enjoying every bit of your cock to the fullest, even with Paul’s thoughts almost covering your ears you could still hear his soft, deep moans. Testing, you met him with a thrust, making his body jerk before settling again.

You focused back on Paul, he was much louder than Dwayne, with so much more energy coursing through his body. He wrapped his hand around his cock, low murmurs and desperate whines flowing like a river from his mouth.

“Yes, yes- ha- ah, mhh~! Right there, right there, please!”

You listened, pressing your tongue firmly inside him, his legs snapped shut, and his grip on your hair grew tighter before releasing completely, joining the other in damn near breaking your headboard. Slowly, panting hard, he opened his legs again, cum dripping all over his thigh and down to your face, a drop landing on your cheek.

He sat like that for a long moment, either trying to resituate his mind or come to terms with how fast and how hard he’d just cum.

Eventually, he rolled off of you and splayed out on the other side of the bed.

Dwayne stopped for a moment, wordlessly staring at the other man, he didn't say anything and didn't continue riding you until Paul gave him a thumbs up, albeit a tired one.

He rode you harder, bouncing on your cock, his hands gripping your shoulders, loud, wet slapping filled the room.

It didn't take you long to finish inside of him, he was wonderfully tight, even after repeatedly slamming your cock into himself. You didn't stop him though, letting him ride to his heart's content. A few moments later his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open in a silent moan. Cum shot out of his cock, splattering against your chest.

He sat there warming your cock for another long moment before lifting off. He dropped on the opposite side of you. Just as clingy as he always was after sex, tossing his arm across your chest.

Paul, who seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, let a goofy smile graze his face.

“Best ride ever, right Dwayne?”

Dwayne let out a small, tired laugh. Cuddling further into you with a satisfied smirk on his face.

#male reader #male!reader #x male!reader #x male reader #dom reader #dom!male!reader #dom male reader #dom!reader #top!reader #top male reader #top!male!reader #the lost boys x male!reader #the lost boys x male reader #Paul x male reader #Paul x male!reader #Dwayne x male reader #Dwayne x Male!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT #never give up