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gutsby · 1 month

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Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

#ONE CABIN 🏚️#ONE BAND #ONE DREAM #ONE DIRECTION #IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN HAHAHAHA #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

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all444miles · 7 months

Text

— VAMP LOVE

— paring: e42!miles x fem!reader

— genre: fluff

— summary: halloween was just across the block, so why not start early and practice makeup on your boyfriend?

— a/n: YO WE SO CLOSE TO 1K AHH?? ilyasm ty !! also can we just imagine miles 42 w vamp makeup n blond braids/barrel braids for a sec.. 🤭🤭 this is kinda short bc im so sleepy but mostly this drabble is a bday gift to my pookie bestie aizie, so as long as she enjoys it idc + i hope you enjoy this when ya read it ! mwah, enjoyyy (*≧▽≦)

“MILES, QUIT MOVIN’, YOU’LL MESS UP THE FACE PAINT.”

it was the first day of october, and halloween wasn’t too far away, by your standards. And of course, a carti lover like yourself, decided to have a vamp theme. It just so happened that Miles suited that theme perfectly.

And that’s why you were on your boyfriend’s lap, makeup supplies on your counter, carefully applying black eyeliner around his eyes, Long Time Intro by Playboi Carti playing through the speakers placed in the corner of your room.

“I gotta blink, amor. Plus I cant really keep a straight face if you got your eyes on me like that.” he protested, trying his best to keep a straight face. “How do I look so far?”

“Trust the process, Miles! You look good, just lemme finish this oneee part then I’m done.” there wasn’t one part left. For you, you wanted to make sure everything looked right. Your lover, Miles, on the other hand, was eager to see the outcome. He just didn’t realise how tedious it was.

“Maa, ¿lo hiciste? He estado sentado en esta silla durante años, lo juro.” (Maa, you done? I’ve been sitting on this chair for ages, I swear.) Miles asked, practically almost falling asleep because of how slow you were doing his makeup.

You chuckled. “Miles, you’re so impatient, beauty takes timeee. I’m almost done, for real.”

After 5 minutes, you were actually done. You got off his lap, giddily grabbing a mirror to show him the result of your hard work. “It’s done! Do you like it?”

Miles looked into the mirror, turning to his side to see how it looked from different angles. A small smile grew on his face, “Wow, princesa, this looks fire. I love it, that long ass wait was worth it.”

You grinned at his compliment, pulling out your phone to take a picture of him so you could look at it later. Miles was not a fan of pictures, but for this occasion, he didn’t mind all too much. He walked closer to and gave you a kiss a the forehead, the stain leaving a mark.

“Do i gotta take this off? Because I kind of wanna keep this on.”

“Keep it on! I need to remember this moment for as long as possible.”

“You just think I look fine, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

tagslist: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayearies @onginlove @laylasbunbunny @arielliio @milesmolasses @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @whitejasmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

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wongyuuu · 1 month

Text

lens of ice | yjh | two (final)

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, these people are just in soo love, smut word count: 17k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, masturbation (f) a/n: i can't belive i actually managed to finish this one! i started to write it maybe in october and it took me forever but here it is. again, thank you to @ressonancee for giving me the idea and putting up with my shit💓

part one || part two (final)

The thought of going back on your word crossed your mind, truthfully. You weren’t even sure why you said yes to dinner with Jeonghan in the first place.

It was a recipe for disaster. It was the only way you could possibly describe the situation, to begin with. The flirting had gotten out of hand, to the point where Seungkwan was already angry and had said “if he grows balls big enough to ask you out, please say yes, this tension is annoying”. Vernon had agreed.

When you heard that from Seungkwan, you thought that he was crazy, that he had completely lost his mind. While it was safe to say that you had developed a crush on Jeonghan, something completely inappropriate in your work, it was hard to tell where he stood.

You liked to think that from day one you were able to say what was on Jeonghan’s mind. You had been able to say that he was holding back on his answers and you called him out on his shit, something that proved to be very efficient, because after that he started to answer all of your questions with honesty. Or at least, you liked to think that he was.

It never really crossed your mind that Jeonghan might have some sort of interest in you. You thought that he was flirting more for sport than for anything else.

The rumors ran around, about how he was sort of a player but he was careful not to date any other skater. Not to create a sense of discomfort, someone had said on a forum online.

It was something that you had yet to ask him. About his love life. And there were two main reasons for that: 1) you didn’t know if it was something that he wanted to talk about and unless he had a wife or a serious girlfriend, it mattered very little to the documentary; 2) you didn’t want to know the answer.

It had never happened to you like that before. You had done so many interviews, went to many places, met so many different people, and not a single one of them was able to captivate you quite as Jeonghan had.

You knocked on the door and waited. A second later, Jeonghan opened the door. You had grown too used to seeing him in comfortable clothes, shirts that were way too big for him, sweats. The only piece of clothing that showed any shape of his body were the pants he used to practice and even then, everything was hidden under a large hoodie.

The man in front of you had tailored pants and a dress shirt on, the sleeves folded back, revealing his arm.

You cleared your throat, suddenly unaware of what to say.

“I was thinking you had given up,” he said with a smile, almost uncertain.

You shook your head immediately.

“There was a lot of traffic today, it’s a friday after all”

It was indeed friday but there wasn’t as much traffic as you made it seem. The truth was that you were late to leave your apartment. Just as you were leaving you got cold feet and sat down on the couch for about twenty minutes, wondering if you were doing the right thing.

What if whatever happened that night, let it be good or bad, affected your job? Realistically speaking, there was no way that it wouldn’t. If it turned out to be a bad date, then things could get awkward. And if it turned out to be good you simply wouldn’t know how to handle yourself or him.

“Sorry that I didn’t take you out, out. And this is all that I had to offer”

He took a step to the side, giving you enough space to walk in. Although you had been to his home many times and sort of knew how it looked from the heart, it felt different to walk in without having Seungkwan and Vernon at your back, carrying one too many bags of gear. The place looked all too different and familiar at the same time.

“No, this is great actually” you smiled at him.

Your smile grew bigger once you saw the table he had set. The room was half lit by candles, in the center of the table was a small vase with fresh flowers, the city behind the window a perfect canvas. A bottle of wine waited for the two of you and the plates, delicate porcelain, were set. Instead of sitting opposite each other, Jeonghan made it so that you were both facing the window.

“You said you liked the night view,” he said while scratching the back of his head.

You turned to him, smiling, wanting to reassure him that it was perfect.

“I really do,” you said softly “Did you cook?”

The apartment smelled heavenly. It was the smell of homemade food if you still even knew what that was like. At least you had never ordered food that smelled like that. Maybe ordering was something that you weren’t that good at, or maybe Jeonghan was just one of those people who went above and beyond even when just ordering.

“I did,” he said proudly “I don’t know if it tastes good, but I followed the recipe to the T”

He pulled the chair out for you, his smile sweet while he watched you.

The little butterflies on your stomach found life again, suddenly floating around. You wanted to face-palm yourself. Just a few months before you thought the worst about Jeonghan and suddenly there you were, saying yes to a date with him, your heart hammering inside your chest.

With one of his hands still on the back of our chair, Jeonghan reached for the bottle of wine, pouring some of it into the glass in front of you.

You expected him to sit by your side but he took a step back, making a turn to the kitchen. You started to get up to follow him, but Jeonghan came back and pushed you onto the chair again.

“Let me help you,” you laughed, looking up at him.

Jeonghan scrunched his nose at you and shook his head.

“You stay right here. I’m just going to bring the food out”

He squeezed your shoulder before moving to the kitchen.

You rested your chin on your hand, looking at the city in front of you. There were very few parts of town that had such a beautiful view, not that you were one to enjoy looking at lit-up buildings. But maybe it was the moment, it was the way the way your skin tingled where Jeonghan’s fingers had touched you. You pressed a hand to your chest, urging your heart to calm down a little.

You liked to think that you were only feeling that way because it had been a long time since you had dated someone, since anyone had shown real interest in you, since you wanted to get to know someone past the work environment.

There was a little movement to your right before Jeonghan came back into the room. He set the dish in front of you and while you weren’t too sure what it was — it looked like some kind of stew — it smelled and looked amazing.

“I have to admit that I don’t usually cook a lot, or at all most times” he laughed “Most times someone comes in and cooks enough for a week or two, following the diets I have to be on. So all I have to do is take it out of the freezer and eat”

You watched as he set the dish in front of you, steam coming out of it, and put some on the place in front of you. He did the same for himself before finally sitting by your side.

“I never saw someone around here, besides Joshua”

You took a sip of the wine before taking the spoon in your hand.

“She usually comes when I’m out for practice, or in these past few months…” Jeonghan was in the middle of his sentence when he saw your writhed face “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with both hands, trying to hold back your laugh.

Jeonghan looked at you, laughing too, but he was in complete disbelief.

“It can’t be this bad” he reached for his spoon.

You were already laughing when Jeonghan started to cough, taking a large gulp of the wine. How had he managed to fuck up so bad was beyond him. He followed the recipe to the details but somehow it tasted bitter.

“Did you taste it, at all?”

“I… no?”

He groaned when you started to laugh at him again but somehow ended up right along with you.

“I swear I followed the recipe,” he said again.

He wanted to have a nice date with you and get to know you better. Although it wasn’t going exactly as he had planned, seeing you laugh like that, so loudly and carefree somehow made it all worth it. Jeonghan made a mistake that he shouldn’t have, one that with someone else would have turned the night into a complete disaster but with you, it became something to laugh about.

And Jeonghan loved the sound of your laugh. Since he met you on that first day, he wondered what it would be like to hear it. You had gone off on him, baring guns in both hands, your hostility screaming at him the entire time.

He had done his best, or at least he thought he did. However, on the very next day, you called him off on his shit and said that the footage they had was unusable because he hadn’t been honest enough.

Jeonghan hadn’t been honest enough with anyone, ever. He wasn’t even sure that he was honest with himself. He always worried about whether or not he was able to move forward. Pushing forward was one thing, actually living was another one, entirely too different.

Throughout most of his life, Jeonghan only knew how to push forward, like a bull. The world around him mattered very little, the people around him mattered even less.

Somewhere along the way, Jeonghan became all too obsessed with numbers and the love he had for the sport became a shadow. Even then, when he was doing everything in his power to make it to the next Olympics, his last, he wasn’t really sure it was something he still wanted or if he was doing all of that simply because it became second nature to him.

Skating was like breathing but it had become awfully painful to do so.

And then you came in and for the first time, he wanted to impress someone. Who he already was, or the version of him he showed, did nothing for you. You looked bored most of the time. Talking with Seungkwan about it had made things clear in his mind. And he felt it in the way the original direction of the documentary had changed.

It wasn’t just about the sport anymore, how he was healing to make it to the competition. It truly became about him.

“Maybe something was rotten, don’t worry about it” you patted his hand, reassuringly.

Jeonghan saw a chance and he took it, holding your hand. For a second your fingers stilled in his, your eyes a little wide looking back at his. He almost pulled away from you, his dropping a little when you didn’t seem to want his touch.

Then your eyes grew a little softer and ever so lightly you held his hand back.

“I really wanted to have a nice dinner with you, though”

You couldn’t help but smile at his cute pout.

“Maybe we could order something?” you pointed at the wine in front of you “In my experience, wine and pizza are a great combo”

You were the first one in the office, which was a first for you. Not that you were someone who was constantly late. It was just that you were usually the last one to leave.

However, sleep wasn’t something that came to you. You were too giggly, your mind wandering through places that normally it didn’t so you thought that working a little was maybe a good idea to take your mind off things.

Not things. Someone.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Despite the initial accident, the night had been nothing but perfect. When was the last time you had fun? Actual fun, not the kind you sort of force yourself to have not to bother others, or to try to fit in some sort of situation.

The night with Jeonghan had been so easy. Conversation simply floating around you. You didn’t feel like you were there to interview him or to be interviewed. You were just talking, getting to know each other in a way that was so entirely different from how things had gone between the two of you until then.

Jeonghan, you learned, was a menace in school and with his sister, always playing pranks and still somehow managing to get away every single time. I could make such an innocent face and everyone would just fall for it, he said at some point. There was no hint of regret in his voice and his eyes were filled with mischievousness while he talked.

“There were these kids who made fun of me because I was a small kid. I tried to let it go but it went on for months. One day,” he said smiling, the memory of the day still completely fresh in his mind “I was already angry that I couldn’t make a move, I don’t even remember what it was, to be honest. They kept picking on me, saying these snarky comments so I waited. One of them left his bag behind, with his skates hanging off of them. I filled both of them with boiling water. I still remember his mother screaming at him”

You gasped, sort of laughing but also a little bit in shock at the mind of a 9-year-old. But awfully dangerous too, for both of them.

“What if he put the skates on?”

It was hard to mask the horror in your voice

“It was after practice, while we waited for our parents to pick us up. He left his skates back and went to play because his mom was late. I just wanted to ruin his skates, not for him to get hurt. I took his takes to the kitchen, poured the water in, and let it sit there for about ten minutes before I put his bag back where I found it”

Your laugh was too spontaneous and Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh along. Since the moment he saw you for the first time, he thought of you as beautiful but watching you laugh, so openly and carefree was breathtaking. His heart behaved in a way that he didn’t see coming.

“I think we need to send you to a doctor because I refuse to believe you’re normal”

Suddenly just holding your hand wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to know what it would feel like to press against yours and have you want it too. His mind, he had decided long before he even met you, was the kind that liked to play tricks. So maybe it was playing a trick and it came up with the thought that you wanted to kiss him too. Maybe he was imagining that your eyes moved from his eyes to his lips from time to time.

He wanted to make the first move, he knew that if he didn’t the chance of you doing it was very little. At the same time, he was scared that it might push you too far. You had gotten surprised enough when he held your hand.

Realistically he knew that it wasn’t much but the two of you worked together and there was still so much more to do, the Olympics were still months away. And although you weren’t going to see each other every single day in those months, you would still have enough meetings.

So what if he read it all wrong and things suddenly became awkward again? The last thing he wanted to do was go back to how it was when you first time. You had been cold and distant but for an entirely different reason.

“Jeonghan?” your voice had been the quiets he had ever heard from you “It might be the wine talking so if I do say something weird please blame it on the alcohol and tomorrow we pretend that I never said anything at all”

He looked the the two bottles already empty and the third one by the middle. It was, indeed, a lot of wine.

“Is everything okay?”

You sighed, eyes closed for a second before finally looking at him again.

“I need you to kiss me, okay?” you said exasperated “Because if you don’t I don’t think I…”

Jeonghan’s lips were on yours before you even finished what you were saying. He hoped that it was along the lines of I don’t think I will.

Your lips, he decided right then, were his favorite thing in the entire world. He loved that when he pressed harder you made way for him, your lips parted to give him full access. Your hand moved from his chest, up to his shoulder, and then the nape of his neck, lightly tugging at his hair. And when you let out a small whimper on the back of your throat he swore his entire world almost became undone.

The night had turned, somehow, into a make-out session. The two of you ended up on his couch, hands all over each other and bubbling laughter. And you refused to complain. It was everything you wanted and then so much more.

Leaving had been so hard. All you wanted to do was to lose yourself in Jeonghan and all that he was and that silently promised to be, even if it was just for one night. You had to force yourself to leave and Jeonghan didn’t make it easier for you. If anything, he did his best to make it as hard as possible.

He went down with you, and waited for the cab by your side, your hand tucked inside the pocket of his jacket while he played with your fingers.

“You could let me take you back” you looked at him, eyebrows raised “I don’t mean driving but I could get in the cab with you and then come back”

“That’s just a waste of time. I’ll text you once I get home, I promise”

It was clear that your answer wasn’t the one he wanted but it was the only one he was going to get. He pulled you closer to him while you waited for the cab. The position was awkward you didn’t want to move, not in the least.

You were there for a couple of minutes before the taxi finally pulled up by your side. Jeonghan opened the door for you and waited for you to get inside.

“Sir, I may not look like it, but I am crazy. So I hope you can get her some safe and sound”

The driver looked at you from his rearview mirror, eyes wide.

“He really is” you played along “He once threw hot water at a kid”

Jeonghan laughed, a little too hysterically, too much wine you were sure. He stuck his head through the window and quickly kissed you.

“Seriously, text me as soon as you get home”

With a groan, you hid your face in your hands, knowing fully well that the warmth in your cheeks didn't come from the weather but from the memory of Jeonghan. You laughed a little, remembering how you had to assure the driver that Jeonghan wasn't actually crazy and that he had never thrown hot water at a child. The man didn't seem to believe you but that mattered very little.

You were overflown with a sort of happiness that was new and also so very scary.

That giddiness was something you always wanted to feel, but never actually got around to it. Your previous boyfriends, not that there were many of them, never really managed to get that much of a reaction out of you. That was not to say that you didn’t like them at all, because you did. You wouldn’t have stayed with them for a second too long if there were no feelings at all involved.

Your feelings for them, however, were so small compared with the way you felt about Jeonghan. It was one date, just one night, and it felt as if your entire life had changed in a way you thought that there would be no coming back from.

“You’re early,” someone said behind you.

You felt as if your soul had just left your body when your entire body jumped at the new sound. You had been so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Seungkwan walking in and of course, Vernon right behind him.

“Jesus, what the fuck” you ran your hands over your face before turning around to face him.

Like most mornings, Seungkwan had a coffee in his hand and his phone in the other one. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure you had ever seen him without a coffee in his hands. You weren’t sure how someone could drink so much coffee and still function but then again, he was drinking iced americano most times and the coffee in there had so much water that you were sure most of the caffeine was deluded so…

“So…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

God, you hated the fact that he knew. Behind him, Vernon also had an expectant face. Of course, he too wanted to know. The problem was that you didn’t want either of them to know. It was something you wanted to keep to yourself, locked behind countless doors. And maybe, just maybe, if you were lucky enough you’d get to savor that feeling again if a second date with Jeonghan ever happened.

“Do you want to go over something or we can just… you know, work?”

“Aaah” he complained, carefully setting his coffee on his desk before spinning your chair until you turned to him “You can’t leave me in the dark like this”

“Us, actually,” Vernon said, doing the best he could to hide his smile.

You had always thought that Vernon was someone who was on the quieter side of the world. Mostly he kept to himself but when paired with Boo Seungkwan? The man could be just as troublesome as the other one. Pair that with the fact that both of them were good friends who often went out together and you’d get yourself a perfect mix for a gossip disaster.

Seungkwan, as the one who is so friendly everyone just wants to spill their deepest secrets because he looks like someone who’d always offer crazy advice.

Vernon, as the quiet one everyone wants to tell their secrets because he looks like someone who’d keep all of them just to himself.

The one thing everyone seems to forget is the fact that those two are friends and they talk. Hopefully only amongst themselves but you weren’t willing to bet on it. There was no way you’d want people to know that you went out with the one person who you were working with. The celebrity, most of all.

“I’m not saying a word” you just shook your head and moved away from him "We have a lot of work to do, so get going".

“You’re not saying a word about what exactly?” Jihoon said, coming up from behind Seungkwan.

The younger man looked somewhat in distress, his eyes wide going from you to Jihoon, then back to you again. It was at that moment you realized that he had never really crossed your mind, in any way while you were Jeonghan, ever. He wasn’t even an afterthought or anything of the sort. He wasn’t even your boss. Jihoon was no one.

“I went on a date last night, that’s all”

It was as if you were the one entering the ice, the one who was being watched by so many eyes. Instead, you were one of the people watching. Your legs were shaking up and down, up and down, and there was no real way for you to stop it from happening. You felt as if your future was the one in line, not Jeonghan’s.

To you, the only real consequence of him not making it was that that documentary would be canceled, for him it meant that everything he had worked for was lost and his last opportunity would never come.

So, the reality of it was that you were nervous for him. Because you had finally gotten a real glimpse of Jeonghan and you knew how much it meant to him, all of it. He downplayed it, yes, but it was on everything he didn’t say.

You could see it in his eyes whenever he mentioned figure skating, which was surprisingly very little when you didn’t have a camera on his face. It was clear in the practiced every single movement with such care, always aiming for precision, in an almost healthy way.

Jeonghan downplayed it a lot but the sport meant everything to him.

You sat in the bleachers, Seungkwan to your left and Vernon to your right. The three of you hadn’t gotten permission to be closer to the ice, or anywhere near really. Athlete after athlete performed, every single one of them doing so well that you felt your heart start to beat in a mismatched way.

Your stomach was tied in knots, a lump on your throat as if you were about to spill your guts out at any given moment. You were too nervous and you hated it. Because if Jeonghan saw you, which you doubted, you wanted him to see someone who was confident and sure that he was going to do well, not someone who looked like she was about to faint. I will find you in the crow, he said the night before.

“You look like you’re the one about to be evaluated,” Seungkwan said.

He patted your hand, which unknowingly gripped your thigh as strongly as you possibly could, your knuckles turning white.

“How did he do this for so many years?” you whispered

The question was more to yourself than to Seungkwan.

In one of the many conversations, you had with Jeonghan, coming to mind.

“The worst part of it all is being compared to other people,” he said, eyes distant, as if his mind was taking him to somewhere he didn’t want to be but at that moment he didn’t have a choice “Because what if I’m having a great day but the other isn’t? What if I had more chance to practice than others? What if I have an injury and the other doesn’t? We’re never on the same scale”

He looked troubled, eyes brows furrowed. You took his hand in yours, your fingers massaging his palm. His eyes looked a bit clearer when he turned to you but still, there was so much vulnerability in them. For a moment it was like seeing the same boy from the videos, someone who seemed powerful but was still so scared.

And ultimately that’s what it was. Fear.

It was his last chance and he was scared if might fail. Jeonghan wasn’t too sure that he could live with himself if he did.

“Truth is, there’s never going to be a scale. Ideally, it would be great but that is not the reality of it. I think your best should be enough, always. You’ve doing everything you can and we can all see it” you scooted closer to him on the couch, resting your shin on his shoulder “To me, you’re the best in the entire world, ever. It’s not much, I know, but I hope you know that I will unconditionally root for you”

Maybe it was unfair for Jeonghan to think like that, but for the first time in many years, he truly felt as if someone was by his side. You held his hand because you knew that he was scared, you cared and the reasons were yet unknown to him. Either way, he was going to hold onto it.

“I think that for people like us it sounds excruciating, but I bet he’s used to it” Seungkwan’s voice brought you back.

He hates it too, you wanted to say to choose to stay quiet. If there were things Jeonghan wanted to keep a secret, even if it was opposite to what you were supposed to do, you would keep your mouth shut.

Even before the screams, you felt something swift in the air and it could only be described as Jeonghan. It was as if the air suddenly turned electric and his present, all on its own, larger than the small arena you were in. When you finally saw him, the air got stuck in your lungs.

On a daily basis, Jeonghan was an extremely handsome man. Almost inhuman and unfair to others around him. But that day, while he walked in, he was indescribable. Nothing about him was normal.

It was like seeing a work of art in motion as if a painting on display in a fancy museum had come to life and was walking among the mere mortals of that gymnasium.

Jeonghan wore blue, a color that you discovered was his signature. In every competition he participated in, even as a child, Jeonghan wore blue. Whether it was the entire outfit or just some detail. He always wore blue.

And then, like a moth drawn to a flame, Jeonghan's eyes met yours and he smiled. A different smile than the one you had seen him give so many times before. It was more natural, even sincere. You wanted to have smiled back and waved at him, but it was as if your entire body was frozen and any movement was impossible. And maybe you didn't want even more attention focused on yourself. The people sitting next to the three of you were whispering among themselves, so the last thing you wanted was for them to find out that that beautiful smile was directed at you.

"I don't know what's going on between you, but if someone smiled like that at me, right in the middle of the arena, with dozens of people watching, I'd get married immediately" Seungkwan didn't share the same feeling of remaining still and silent, but at least he was polite enough to whisper at your side.

A whimper escaped your mouth, but you chose not to say anything else. Because, in truth, you didn't even know what was happening between the two of you. There wasn't a conversation, a simple "yes, we're together", but whatever it was, however long it lasted, you were willing to enjoy every second of it.

Jeonghan positioned himself in the center of the ice, eyes closed, and took a deep breath, once, twice. The first chords of If I Could See You Again sounded through the scattered speakers and a new and completely unknown feeling spread throughout your body. Pride, perhaps.

One after another, Jeonghan executed the moves with precision, almost exactly like he had done in training. You couldn't tell if the differences were good or bad, which could take or add points to the total.

Almost at the end, with just a few seconds left until the end of the short program, Jeonghan lost his balance. Not to the point where he fell, but enough that he had to touch the ground to stop himself from falling. The three of them said, in unison, "shit", Seungkwan making a crying sound in the back of his throat.

With one last turn, the performance came to an end and the song ended. Even with the mistake, the crowd exploded in screams and applause. The famous rabbits and stuffed animals were thrown towards Jeonghan. Following the people around you, you also stood up, clapping your hands.

Your heart begged Jeonghan to look in your direction again, even for a second. Jeonghan raised his head and the smile he gave was that rehearsed one, that you had seen many times before and that wasn't even remotely real. The irritation at his mistake was clear in his eyes, but no one seemed to notice.

He bowed to the judges and the audience behind them, sliding across the ice to catch one of the swooping rabbits. Finally, he turned towards you, his eyes immediately meeting yours. Throwing all caution out the window, you said "you did well" without making any real sound and hoped he understood.

Despite the bad taste in his mouth, left by his complete inability to complete the performance without mistakes, Jeonghan felt as if the hand that was squeezing his heart loosened when he looked at you. He waved once more to the audience and skated to the exit. His coach was waiting for him. The man's face was a strange mixture of relief and frustration.

"You did well," he said, even though the words were the same as yours, the intention was completely different "It wasn't such a serious mistake, so it shouldn't have too many points deducted. If it goes well tomorrow, we can advance to the world championship"

Jeonghan nodded. He didn't need to hear that, he knew, better than anyone, what was at risk and what he needed to do.

A performance without errors, that's all he needed.

At the request of Jeonghan's coach, there was no filming after the performance.

"He can talk about everything tomorrow. Now he has to focus on the free program"

You had no arguments to argue and you didn't want to either. Filming was, by far, your last concern. All you wanted to know was if Jeonghan was okay. You spent hours debating whether to call him or not, and in the end, you decided not to.

The big truth was that you had no idea where the lines were, which ones you could cross, and which ones you should religiously stay behind.

Therefore, you chose to send a text. Are you okay? was all you ask. Then you sat on the bed, legs crossed, and waited.

You didn't know what to do if Jeonghan would respond, or if he was concentrating to the point of not going near his cell phone - which was probably a good idea.

Jeonghan had the fourth-best score among short programs. Seungkwan explained that despite the mistake and the near fall, Jeonghan had moves that were considered difficult to execute and those were worth more points and he was precise in almost all of them, which resulted in him having a good score.

"If he hadn't made any mistakes, it's possible he would have come first," he commented, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Seungkwan was easily a fan. He didn't make the slightest point of hiding it. You weren’t one at first, you knew the bare minimum about skating, but as time went on, as you got to know Jeonghan, it was completely inevitable.

"I'm sure he can do it" Seungkwan assured.

The phone vibrated at first and half a second later the screen lit up and Jeonghan's name shone on the screen, a photo of his smiling face above his name. You hadn't uploaded a photo when you saved his contact, but you were sure who the culprit was.

"When did you put a picture of yourself on my phone?"

Jeonghan felt relief wash over his body just hearing your voice, knowing you were smiling on the other side. He was able to take a deep breath for the first time since the morning.

He couldn't quite understand how he had gotten into that situation. He couldn't even pinpoint a catalyzing moment, the moment he realized something was changing. One moment you were just someone he had to work with and then you became someone he longed for. There was no middle ground. It was like someone flipped a switch in his mind and his heart, as he could finally just be. No strings attached, no fear.

With you, he was simply Jeonghan, the person. Not the athlete, not the guy who appeared on television now and then. He was just another guy, with a normal job, a normal life. There are many normal ones, Jeonghan, yours may be different from mine and that's okay, you said it once.

Maybe that was the moment he realized he was in love with you. Maybe perceived isn't the right word, but it was the moment he allowed himself to feel.

"It's an inconceivable fact that you don’t have a picture of me on your phone"

You laughed at it and he wished he could be close to you. He wanted all your moments, no matter how small and bad they were, to be engraved in his mind.

"My phone has a password," you said. Your tone wasn't reproachful, you weren’t irritated. If anything, you were happy to be talking to him, that he was in your life.

"Your birthday isn't a very clever password," he said, laughing.

You wanted to ask how he knew, but the answer was pretty obvious: Seungkwan.

"Are you okay?" you asked, tone cautious. "No pain?"

You hated having to change the subject so abruptly, hated that you were the one changing the light tone of the conversation. But you had to know, you had to ask.

It was a second, nothing more than that, that turned on a warning light in your head. Jeonghan was sitting, waiting for his score announcement, when his face quickly contorted. It was there and then it wasn't. But you had seen that scene before, you knew exactly what it meant.

"Yes, I am," he said, still trying to keep his tone light.

"Jeonghan..."

He wondered when you were able to understand that he was lying. It didn't really matter. Jeonghan liked knowing that you knew him well enough to know the difference. It was the first time anyone cared enough to understand.

Jeonghan realized that by your side, he experienced many firsts.

"A little discomfort, but I told the doctor" he was quick to say, knowing exactly what was coming next "I have ice on my foot right now. I can compete tomorrow, it won't be a problem"

He wasn't lying. He felt the discomfort after his body cooled down and told the doctor. Maybe it was in the hopes of having a fair reason to give up. He had never talked about being in pain so quickly.

"I'm not confident" he admitted "It's like I was 12 again, in my first competition. I think I was more confident before, to be honest"

He lay down on the bed, staring at the hotel ceiling. It was a simple beige ceiling, hideous, but somehow, it gave him some peace of mind.

“You did really well in your first competition,” you said, hoping that would somehow help him.

Jeonghan just hummed in response but stayed quiet. He had too much on his mind, you knew. It was the shadow of a possible new injury, the idea of not being well enough to perform the movements easily, and the fact of not being confident. Everything had turned into a big snowball and he no longer knew what to do with all these problems that seemed unsolvable.

"Do you remember that day, when you were training and everyone was around? Even Jihoon showed up to watch, which was quite strange by the way" Jeonghan said yes, quietly, which was enough for you to continue " You weren't confident that day either and asked everyone to leave"

"Except you," he said.

"Yes, except me" you smiled, the memory still fresh in your mind, as if it had happened the day before, and not months before "We were there for another half an hour and you didn't make a single mistake after getting it right. I know it's harder now, that you can't kick all those people out of there, but you can imagine that it's just the two of us again. I told you before and I can tell you as many times as you need to hear, I'm rooting for you unconditionally"

Jeonghan sighed, his body finally relaxing completely.

"You could be more eloquent in your cheering," he said, his tone mocking.

"If I'm too eloquent, we won’t use Vernon’s videos," you said laughing.

Your laugh, Jeonghan decided, was the eighth wonder of the world. It was his choice and the only right one among all the possibilities.

"You could at least smile"

"That I can do"

You sat in the same place as the day before, the only difference was that Seungkwan was on the left and Vernon was on the right. But you were in exactly the same place as you promised Jeonghan you would. Not that you exactly had much of a choice, it was assigned seats, but at least you were lucky to have the same ones.

Also like the previous day, Jeonghan was the last to compete. You watched them all carefully, trying your best to spot mistakes, but you could only see the obvious ones. When, for example, the athlete who was in second, taking into account only the short program scores, fell. You knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't contain your squeak of joy. Both Seungkwan and Vernon laughed, but you knew they shared the feeling.

Everyone wanted Jeonghan to do well, of course.

Exactly like before, the world seemed to stop when Jeonghan entered. And this time he knew exactly where to look, where you were in the crowd. When he smiled and you smiled back, he felt like he had made the right decision at some point. Because, somehow, you were there and everything seemed like it would work out.

And even if everything went wrong, Jeonghan felt like he would be okay too.

You wanted to scream with the rest of the audience when Jeonghan took the podium in second place. You knew it wasn't what he wanted, but you also knew I wanted it more than he expected. But, as you had told him on the phone, if I were more eloquent, all the footage would be lost.

You excused yourself from Seungkwan and walked to the other side, where it was empty. When the silver medal was finally placed around your neck, you clapped and screamed like the other girls next to you. Jeonghan's free program was perfect, the deductions made by the judges, according to Seungkwan, made no sense at all - but you were sure it was the fan version of him speaking than anything else.

If it weren't for the lowest score from the previous day, Jeonghan would have been on the podium in first place. However, when he finished his presentation, he seemed to care little whether he had gotten a good score or the position he would get. He seemed satisfied with his performance. His smile as he bowed to the audience was genuine and joyful.

"Will you allow me to be honest?" Joshua said beside you.

You brought a hand to your heart, your body moving involuntarily away from him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you"

You smiled and shook your head. There were a few times that your and Joshua's paths crossed. He was Jeonghan's childhood friend and would occasionally appear. You were so focused on Jeonghan and on his performance that you hadn't noticed that you hadn't seen Joshua on either day of the competition.

“Of course,” you said clearing your throat.

Joshua stuck his hands in his pants pockets, his eyes still focused on Jeonghan who was walking down the podium and returning to the locker room. He looked at the medal, a small smile on his face, almost completely covered by his long hair.

"I thought you would be a problem, but I'm glad I was wrong"

When Jeonghan was out of sight, you finally turned to Joshua. He seemed to apologize with his eyes.

“A problem,” you repeated, to make sure you weren’t hearing things.

He scratched his head and smiled.

"Yes, a problem. You have become a central point for Jeonghan in recent times, I thought you could be dangerous to reach the goal of the Olympics. But looking at him now, I think you were never a problem, but rather the solution"

It was impossible to contain your smile for the rest of the night. Everyone left together after the press conference, which for once was not a fiasco.

You and Jeonghan never told anyone else that you were together. You want to know for sure what it was. But when everyone arrived at the restaurant, the two of you, Seungkwan, Vernon, Joshua, and the coach, everyone just seemed to move in a way to let you and Jeonghan sit next to each other.

Every time he placed his hand on your leg, a new wave of heat spread throughout your body. You were sure that Jeoghan knew what he was knowing, that he knew the effect it had. When you looked at him, he was looking at you smiling. He looked like a naughty child, who knew he was up to no good and was just waiting for someone to show up and tell him off.

The coach seemed uncomfortable, and now and then he cleared his throat. He only knew the rumors about Jeonghan, he had never seen him with a woman before. Joshua acted as if it were just another day, something he was already used to. Seungkwan and Vernon exchanged looks and laughed, you were sure you would have to deal with them later. The teasing would be tireless and at this point, it would be impossible to stop rumors from spreading around the office.

The thought that others might know what was going on between you and Jeonghan didn't scare you, at least not the way you thought it would. You were afraid that people would think you were less professional because of this, and that you might lose credibility. But none of that seemed to matter.

For the first time in a long time, you were happy. You didn't care if they knew because, at the end of the day, it was nobody's business.

You had made a name for yourself and it had nothing to do with your personal life.

And Jeonghan... he made you feel things you had never felt before. Your other boyfriends, as much as you liked them, didn't compare. The feeling you had for them seemed insignificant in comparison.

You wanted, as absurd as it might seem, to take care of Jeonghan. Not that he needed it, you knew he could manage just fine on his own. You wanted to be someone he could share his problems with, someone he could count on. You wanted to be someone who could be a safe haven, someone he didn't need to hide from.

And you thought, to a certain extent, you had become that person.

And without realizing it, even if unintentionally, Jeonghan had become that person for you too. When you had nightmares you wanted to call him, to be comforted by his sweet voice. You liked it when he held your hand, just because he liked it. You liked that he sent texts at random moments that made you smile and that left everyone around you wondering what had happened.

You had never believed that I could fall in love, not like that. The mere thought of liking someone like that seemed impossible, at least to you. You still had memories of your mother crying, right after your father left. You had promised yourself that you would never let anyone approach you like that. But Jeonghan showed up and it was as if the thought had never crossed your mind.

After the initial shock of meeting Jeonghan, it was easy to understand why people fell in love with him.

Even at that moment, when he wasn't doing anything much, just talking to Joshua and Seungkwan, the infamous butterflies didn't seem to leave you.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked suddenly.

Everyone had already eaten and some were waiting for dessert. It felt wrong to get up.

"Are you tired?"

As if on cue, Jeonghan closed his eyes and yawned, making everyone laugh, even the coach. He grabbed your hand and pulled you lightly, his head slightly tilted towards the restaurant door.

"We're going now," he said as he took your hand and in his and guided you out of the restaurant.

The thing about Jeonghan is that you never wanted to let him go. Once he was around you never wanted him to leave. So when he offered to take you to your room and said yes when you invested him in, you almost giggled like a teenager.

Is that how people felt when they liked someone? You knew the feeling of liking someone, yes, but it was different. A new feeling that was both exciting and scary. Your brain was partially inclined to run away and partly desperate to just stay.

When liking someone you always think back to your mother and how she never really recovered after your father left. Of course, she smiled and had many happy moments over the years but there was this distinct glow in her eyes that simply vanished the second he left.

You had always promised yourself that you would never give someone that much power over you and while you knew that you weren’t quite there yet with Jeonghan, you knew that there was a high chance of becoming something so great one day you’d have no control over.

Without much thought, you took his hand on your and kissed his knuckles.

"What 's that for?"

You shook your head, still keeping his hand close to your face, sighing when he cupped your cheeks.

"Nothing, I'm just really proud of you. You did so well today"

Jeonghan laughed, his eyes going top your eyes then to your lips then back to your eyes again.

"I didn't win" he felt the need to remind you.

You turned your face to the side and planted a kiss on the palm of his hand.

"It was your first time back, you did fantastically"

"Thank you for being there," he said, voice suddenly serious "It really meant a lot to me"

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a peck on the lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”

Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you go, not when he finally had you in his arms again, without anyone around. He pulled you closer to his body, his left hand at the base of your neck. He kissed your cheek, first the left one, then the right one, the tip of our nose until he finally reached your lips.

At first, the kiss was sweet, tentative, kind even. The tip of his tongue touched your bottom lip. Suddenly it was like all hell had broken loose. It was him and you but everywhere. He ran his hand down your neck, to your back until he reached the hem of your shirt. Goosebumps erupted when you felt his skin over yours.

His touch was so small, so insignificant, but it had such a great effect on you. You were out of breath partially from the kiss and partially from his touch. It was too little but also too much.

You pulled back from him and the look in his eyes was almost enough to bring you to your knees. You had never really seen the whole “his eyes darkened” thing but in that moment there was no better way to describe him. Jeonghan had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before, different from anything you had witnessed.

It took your breath away.

“I’m gonna” you pointed at the bathroom and quickly left him all alone in the room.

You needed a moment, hell not even you knew why you needed a moment. Your heart felt like it was about to combust with how quickly it was beating. You just needed to gather yourself, and maybe calm down a little bit before you went back into the room.

You twisted the faucet over the bathtub. A shower would have been faster, yes, but a little too fast. You didn’t wait for it to completely fill up to get in. You pulled your clothes off swiftly, leaving them on the floor beside the tub, before getting in.

Your mind was racing. Maybe a good way to describe it would be to say that there was a puppy with too much energy running from side to side in your head.

Five minutes went by before you heard the door opening and Jeonghan walked him. To his merit, his eyes stayed on your face the entire time until he sat down by your side.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, shin resting on the edge of the tub.

That was such a good question because you had no idea if there was something wrong. There isn’t, a voice said inside your mind. There was no reason for you to have run off like that.

“I’m not used to this,” you said as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. His hand was so warm against your cold one “For a second it was too much”

“Did I…?”

You started to shake your head before he could get another word out.

“No, no, no” you sat down on the tub and moved as close to him as possible, spilling some water out in the process but Jeonghan didn’t seem to mind “I like you, really like you”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“In my world? Yes”

In your world, Jeonghan had managed to gather, all emotions made you want to run away. It was easier for you to deal with the bad, the sad, the hateful. The good part of it was hard because you had no real starting point for it.

“Let me show you my world, then”

He didn’t really wait for your answer and he leaned over the edge and captured your lips in his. His touch was tender as he crawled your face, leaving a trail of kisses from your lips, down your neck, till your collarbone. He smiled against your skin when he hit a sensitive spot that made you go a little breathless as a small moan left your lips.

Jeonghan ran the tip of his index finger across the valley of your breasts before cupping one of them in his hand. His thumb running over your hard nipples. Your moan was swallowed by his lips.

Your entire body became hot under his touch. Melting, falling apart and he had barely even touched you at all. It was too much but not at all enough.

Jeonghan kept exploring your body with his hand, running it down your stomach. Ever so slowly he moved his hand further down.

A gasp left your lips when his finger found your clit, drawing small, slow, circles. You leaned forward, your forehead pressed on the crook of his neck. His skin was warm, hot even. You turned your head to the side slightly until your lips came in contact with the skin of his neck. You pressed small kisses on him, sucking his skin at the same time he applied more pressure against you.

Jeonghan pulled back for a second, his focus solely on you, on your hooded eyes, the way your cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink, how your lips were slightly parted, the way his name came out of your lips in the sweetest moan when his finger slipped over your folds, teasing your hole.

He was so completely enamored by you, in ways he never thought to be possible. In his past relationships, he had always been careful. He didn’t want to get caught but also didn’t want to fall too much. His life only had one direction, one goal. When he was by your side he just wanted to slow down a little and enjoy every single second he could with you.

Jeonghan wanted you to feel the same, this new sense of freedom that only came with these feelings, this desire to know every corner of someone’s soul.

Your grip on Jeonghan’s arms thighed, your eyes watering as you let your head fall back. He pushed two fingers into you, slowly until he was knuckles deep. He sucked in a breath when your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him deeper as he curled his fingers and then slightly opened them. He rubbed the heel of his hand over your clit as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out.

He was hard inside his pants, the zipper of his jeans making minimal pressure, not anywhere close to what he needed but he was happy with what he got, with the day he saw you let all of your walls down around him.

Jeonghan leaned forward a little, taking your lips into his, his tongue exploring your mouth as he moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing on your clit just as fast.

“Jeonghan…” you cried his name, again and again as your breathing got shallow.

You held his face in your hands, your thumb over his bottom lips, your eyes never leaving his as you became undone in front of him. Your legs quivering, your body arching until your chest was pressed against him, your loud moans filling the bathroom alongside the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you at a relentless pace.

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop” you asked

He had no intention of doing so, not until your body stopped shaking until you rode the last of your orgasm.

It was the most beautiful sight in the world. The seven wonders? Nothing compared to you.

Breathing heavily you leaned over Jeonghan, small spasms still making your body shake. You had boyfriends before, fucked all of them, some of them weren’t even your boyfriend and it had never felt like that, earth-shattering, live altering. You kissed him tenderly.

God, you were in love with the man.

You never thought of what it would be like to wake up in someone’s arms. It was never something you thought about too often when you had a boyfriend and it wasn’t something you craved. Being on your own, was something you were used to, whether it was on life or in your bed. Waking up to Jeonghan was something entirely new experience and one that you could never say that you didn’t like.

His body was turned to yours, and his hand possessively held your thigh. Most of his face was covered by his hair and this time around you didn’t shy away from pushing it away from his face.

“This is not creepy at all,” Jeonghan said, his eyes still closed.

You were startled for a second, your body involuntarily moving away from him and then settling back into him. This time your fingers weren't feather-like. You allowed yourself to fully touch him, to enjoy the feeling of his skin against yours.

“I can leave, if you want”

You slightly rose from the bed, but it was far enough for Jeonghan. He tugged at your waist and pulled back on the bed and got on top of you.

“You’re not going anywhere”

Jeonghan pressed his lips over yours and you felt your body melt under him. Was there ever a better place in the world to be? You weren’t too sure if there was, but if such place even existed you didn’t want to know.

“Tell me a secret,” he asked.

It was almost noon and you were still in bed with Jeonghan. He had asked for room service a couple of hours before and after eating both of you got back in bed, cuddling like two teenagers in love.

“I used to have a crush on Jihoon,” you said with a laugh.

There was a moment of silence, Jeonghan's body growing stiff by your side. That wasn't your intention at all, you wanted to bring a laugh out of him, and not make him uncomfortable.

“I don't think that's something you say while in bed with a guy, naked”

You laughed giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“You said to tell you a secret, that’s the only one I have left to give you,” you said pushing a strand of hair away from his forehead, smiling at him “When I met him, I didn’t know that he was going to be my boss, in fact I thought that he was regular employee like me. A couple of weeks later I found that that not only he was my boss but that he also had a long-term girlfriend, who is now engaged to”

Instead of focusing only on the crush part, which was one Jeonghan had no real desire to know about, he turned all of his attention to the first part of what you said, that you had no other secret to tell.

Though he thought of it as impossible, as everyone has secrets, he knew that you were somehow telling him the truth.

“And now?”

He propped his chin on your shoulder, his eyes shining as he waited for an answer.

You found that running your hand through his hair and playing with it was a new hobby and one that both of you seemed to enjoy. Jeonghan had fallen asleep twice while your hand was on his head.

“Now he's just a boss who's made me take a project I didn't want” you ran your finger over his nose and booped the tip “But now I’m really glad I did. Maybe the best decision forced on me in years?”

You couldn’t help but laugh when Jeonghan placed several loud kisses all over your face.

“Your turn”

You lightly pushed him away, just enough to see his face again.

“I’m constantly terrified,” he said after a few minutes in silence “I keep seeing myself falling on the ice, like it happened last night. When I close my eyes, that’s the only thing I see”

It was something hard to admit, even to himself. Failing was like a shadow that daily dark cloud following him wherever he went. His mind and dreams were filled with images of him doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do, of what he was expected to do.

Though he had been practicing hard, to exhaustion even, and did his best to put a great face, telling everyone just how confident he was, the truth was that Jeonghan wasn’t confident at all in himself. The chances of him making it were very low and though he did manage to get a good score and placed high on the podium, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to get him to the Olympics, much less to win it.

“I’m not a sports person, right?” Jeonghan nodded enthusiastically and pushed him, making him laugh “But I think sometimes falling is inevitable. You know something I believe in? You”

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at the words. He felt as if the hand squeezing his heart had let go of him. He felt light.

“If there’s someone in this world that can go through all of this, injuries, surgeries, rehab and still get to compete on the same level as before. Maybe even better. I believe in you. I hope you can too”

Months Later

Jeonghan hissed as he slowly pulled the sock off. The usually cream skin was turning an ugly dark shade of purple, his ankle already twice as big as was supposed to be. He wanted to scream out in frustration.

Of course, he had to get hurt again, of course, it had to be on the day before he was set to compete.

It was like whoever was writing the script of his life enjoyed putting him through pain. Jeonghan finally felt as if his life was falling into place. He was feeling healthy, he felt as if every time he got on the ice he was getting better, improving his performance every single time. And then there was you, who came into his life seemingly like a storm and turned his world upside down in ways he wasn’t aware he needed.

He had never felt more at ease, comfortable, than when he was with you. It had been a very long time since there was any need to shoot at his place but he always found himself calling you, or going to you. On days when you had to work late, you’d still come over and crawl into his bed, attaching yourself to him as if it was where you were supposed to be all along. You’d place a kiss on his spine and drift off to sleep without a word. Then, if there was no early schedule or practice, the two of you would just take turns cooking and talking about everything and nothing at all.

When he was with you, Jeonghan knew he had found the balance he had always looked for. It wasn’t the loud and reckless kind of relationship like the one he had before. With you Jeonghan felt at peace, home in many different ways. He liked to think that you felt the same way about him too.

Maybe he was being too greedy in wanting the creer, the legacy, as well as the love life but there was no way he was willing to let either one go, even if it meant that his blood would be covering the ice at the end of his performance.

“How are you” the door to his shared room was suddenly flung open and Joshua walked in “feeling…?”

His friend's voice got lower as his eyes moved from Jeonghan’s face to his ankle, then back to his face again. Joshua moved without saying a word. He opened the mini bar and pulled whichever can was colder.

“Does Bumzu know about this?”

It was weird to hear his coach’s name and he wasn’t too sure why. He said the name countless times since he was a teenager, he even said it earlier that day, but you had never said it. You’d always refer to him as just coach, even while directly talking to him. You never said his name and the man didn’t seem to mind it either.

Jeonghan looked back at his foot and then at his ankle. He had no idea how it had gotten that bad. He felt a little pain after the eighteen-hour flight so as soon as he settled down in his room he put some ice on it, which had seemingly done the trick. It looked fine. No purple bruise, no swelling. His ankle looked fine and felt fine, so he left to attend the open ceremony and then headed to practice for the next two days. He felt nothing. He was fine.

Until he, clearly, wasn’t.

“Does she know?”

Joshua pulled his leg up on the bed and put his feet up on two pillows. Jeonghan hissed again when he felt the ice against his skin and let his body fall back on the mattress.

“No, and she can’t know” he covered his eyes with his arm, sighing “I’ll tell Bumzu tomorrow”

“Don’t you think this should go into the documentary?” Joshua asked as he rolled the can from his ankle to the arch of his foot rhythmically “Don’t you think your girlfriend should know about this?”

Jeonghan played with the word on his tongue for a second. Girlfriend. Neither of you had ever labeled the relationship, too focused on the moment, on enjoying what you had and charging forward together. A label didn’t seem all too important. It was the kind of relationship that was always evolving but somehow staying the same.

“If she finds out, she’ll ask me to stop” he paused finally looking at his friend “And if she does, I will”

He couldn’t help but think about your face. The way you smiled while holding his hands in yours sitting on his couch, just a few minutes before the two of you had to leave for the airport. Your eyes shone as you told him how much you believed in him, that you knew he wanted to win but it would be okay if he didn’t.

It was the kind of speech he heard many many times before in his life and he always hated it. It always seemed shallow, just empty words thrown in the wind. But when it came from you, when those words left your lips they felt genuine, he knew it wasn’t something you just said because it was what you thought he wanted to hear.

“I’ll scream the loudest this time,” you said laughing as you ran your fingertips over his eyebrows and then tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Jeonghan couldn’t help you lean into your touch. “I’ll be sitting away from Seungkwan and Vernon, so there really won’t be any way for me to ruin the footage”

The words I love you slipped out of Jeonghan’s mouth with ease, as they have always been there, like he was used to saying them. It was never been easy for him, even to his mother and sister. He loved them, of course he did. He showed it to them in all ways he could think of, but he never said. At least not as an adult.

Home, he had decided. Your eyes were his home. You were.

Jeonghan was certain that he would remember that moment forever. The way you leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The way you whispered I love you too. How you broke into a smile when you chastely kissed him and added so much it’s insane.

“Maybe she would be right” Joshua’s voice pulled him back to reality “Maybe you should stop. What if this gets bad enough that you can’t even walk anymore? What if…”

Jeonghan sat back up again.

“Do you remember when we were kids and I told you that I wanted a gold medal, an Olympic gold medal?” he suddenly asked.

Joshua closed his eyes and sighed. Obviously, he remembered it but he wished Jeonghan didn’t. Most of all, he wished Jeonghan wouldn’t use a promise he made almost twenty years before.

“Shua” Jeonghan pressed, his tone almost desperate. He felt bad, of course, but it was the only thing he had to stop Joshua. His last weapon to use.

“I promised I would help in any way possible since we all knew I wasn’t that great of a skater”

It was a stupid promise, made by stupid boys but even as adults they both stuck to it, like it was some sort of pact.

“The best way to help is to keep it a secret for the next 3 days”

The thing about competitions is that they are exhausting but not just for the people actively competing but for those working on the sidelines as well. you had been following Jeonghan for months now, to all sorts of competitions, rehab, and just his life in general.

In almost all of them he managed to make it to the podium and each time he looked brighter, and happier with his performance and the outcome. Though everything seemed to be going just fine, there was this itch in the back of your mind, telling you that there was something wrong with him.

Jeonghan seemed to be taking good care of his body and he was periodically going to the doctor. You weren’t too sure if that was a good thing. On one hand, it was good because it meant that he was in constant care for a serious injury. But it could also mean that he was in pain and that itch on your brain was right.

Whatever it was, Jeonghan wasn’t willing to share. He kept saying that he was fine and you were trying to believe him, you really were. But there was something in his eyes, in the way his body moved a little more stiff than usual. He had not looked at your direction once - which was something unusual.

The rational part of your brain said that it was just stress, crazy high amounts of it tugging at all of his nerves and muscles. It was his last chance so it was natural. He was an athlete focused on the competition ahead, of course, he would be a little different from what you were used to seeing.

However, the irrational and insecure part of your brain told you that regretted saying that he loved you and didn’t know how to take it back. That didn’t make any sense at all. Jeonghan wasn’t the kind of person who just said things to please the people around him. He would rather keep quiet than say something he didn’t mean. You knew that. You knew him. If he said it, then he meant it.

So why was he…

“Is he hurt again?” a familiar voice asked to your right.

You had completely forgotten that Jihoon would attend as part of the documentary crew. He had mentioned it the last time you spoke on the phone a couple of weeks before, he also sent an e-mail the day before you left but it had completely escaped your mind.

You blinked at him, your brain not fully registering what he said.

“What?” you asked.

Jihoon raised his eyebrows at you. He pointed at the rink where Jeonghan and the other skaters were warming up. His warm-up was different from what he usually did. He was just moving around, barely using his left foot.

“He’s not using his foot a whole lot” Jihoon pointed out.

He kept talking but his voice became just a distant sound as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, frantically searching for Joshua’s number. He was by the rink talking, in what you assume to be a hushed voice, with Bumzu.

You bit your lips while the phone rang. Despair spread through your chest when Joshua pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed it to the coach. Both men visibly sighed.

Tears started to well up in your eyes the moment Joshua’s tired voice greeted you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Tell me what’s wrong with him, please” you begged.

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around, making sure that you couldn’t see his expression. A terrible sign.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, everything is going according to plan”

“I may still be confused about some rules but my eyes work just fine, Joshua. Something is wrong, even Jihoon can see it”

You watched as he shook his head.

“He’s just hiding his game. We prepare a new program, entirely different, he doesn’t want to show any of it or overwork himself during the warm-up”.

Alarms went off in your head and a whinny sound left your lips. You were well aware of the three pairs of eyes on you, judging the very uncharastically way, so unlike yourself, you were behaving but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Listen“ Joshua’s tone was stern, irritated. Not once had he sounded like that “This is a competition, the biggest one could ever take part in, as well as his last one ever. Yes, things are different this time around. I need you to understand that and not add any pressure or stress on him. Can you do that?”

He didn’t really give you a chance to reply.

“He’s here as an elite athlete and you’re here as the documentarist in charge of capturing every second of it. I highly suggest you start acting accordingly”

The line went mute. The pressure on your head, on your heart, was so big you let your body fall on the seat again. Joshua had never been quite as harsh on you, or at all. He had always been soft spoken, and polite. You doubted that even under the obvious stress of the moment he would act like that. Something was definitely wrong but he wasn’t willing to share, which meant that Jeonghan’s condition was bad. It also meant that he didn’t want you to know what was wrong, the extension of the problem.

Seungkwan was suddenly by your side, his hand on your shoulder. You pushed the single tear that rolled down away and stood up again.

“Is everything okay?”

You just nodded and took the camera he had in his hands, adjusting the settings as an excuse to stay quiet long enough to be able to regain your ability to speak once more. You pushed the camera into Jihoon’s hand with a little more force than necessary, not really caring that he was your boss. His only reaction was to furrow his eyebrows at you one more time.

“Make yourself useful, will you” it didn’t matter if he was there to just watch or not “Do not lose coach out of sight”

You turned your body to Seungkwan and Vernon.

“Seungkwan, you're with Joshua. Vernon and I will focus on Jeonghan” you pointed at the seats you were supposed to take, indicating that Jeonghan would have two different angles on him, Vernon simply nodded “Jeonghan’s condition is less than ideal so we need all of their reactions. Don’t miss anything, every blink is important”

Seungkwan called your name, his fingers gripping the sleeve of your shirt around your wrist. The concern was evident in his eyes. He wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if he should and you weren’t sure you could speak without breaking into tears. Whether his concern was for you or Jeonghan, you didn’t know. Perhaps a mix of both.

“It’s our job, we should act accordingly”

Jeonghan finally let his body fall on the bed. It had been a long day and he had never felt more exhausted before in his life. But more than that, he was in pain.

His first program had drained him.

Every time he moved his foot it was as if a needle was being forced into his bones. Truth be told, Jeonghan wasn't even sure how he was still standing, how he still managed to walk straight without curving his body in pain. Skating was still a wonder in itself. The idea that both his mother and sister were watching from home maybe was something that helped push him forward. Maybe knowing that you were somewhere in the crowd also helped.

He didn't dare to look for you, didn't dare to look in your direction but he could swear that he had heard you cheer every time he landed, every time he executed a new movement. Having you there and hearing your voice, even if it was a daydream of his crazy mind, had been enough to push him to the end of the program.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and reread your text for the hundredth time. He just stared at his phone for the better part of the day, like the small device held all the answers in the world. All it did though, was call you and that was something that he didn't allow himself to do. It was what he wanted the most, to hear your assuring voice, but he shouldn't. He couldn't. He was satisfied just looking at the black screen when suddenly it lit up with a notification and your name attached to it.

"I will always be rooting for you! No matter what happens you'll always be number one" a second later another text followed "I love you"

Your message was sweet and loving. Jeonghan knew what it meant though. You didn't say anything, but it was clear that you knew something was wrong. Joshua had assured him that he didn't say anything to you but you weren't dumb.

He felt bad for keeping it a secret from you, for pushing you away, but in his mind, it was his only option. It turned out for the best that his coach and the federation didn't allow you and your team to follow him. Watching from the bleachers was all you could do.

Even if their decision somehow benefited him, Jeonghan hated it. He hated the idea of everything that was going wrong. He hated that he was in pain, and once again, hated that the one person he wanted to comfort him was the one he was pushing away. In a way, he felt as if he was drowning and there was no one to even see that there was something off with him.

Jeonghan heard the door opening but he didn't turn around in bed to see who it was, certain that it was only Joshua or maybe Bumzu coming in to check on him. He just turned further into his pillow, wishing for the day to be over soon. He couldn’t even think about his performance, which hadn’t been bad, to be honest.

“So you get injured again and you decide that I shouldn’t know. That’s not very nice, Jeonghan”

He felt his heart in his mouth and he jumped on the bed, suddenly sitting on the middle of the mattress, grimacing when he felt a sharp pain up his leg.

“I wonder who you wanted to keep it a secret from, the team in charge of the documentary or me”

There you were, leaning on the door with your arms crossed over your chest, frowning at him. He could cry while looking at you and perhaps the tears were inevitable because his eyes were already burning.

“How are you here?” he managed to ask.

You gave him a sheepish smile and showed him the badge on your neck. A picture of Joshua greeted him while you took a step close to him and Sar by his side on the bed.

“I stole Joshua's badge and wore it flipped around, no one really bothered to check if it was really me”

You took Jeonghan's right hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his. It was almost a natural movement at this point and you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder.

Throughout the entire day you had thought about what you would do, how you'd approach him. There was no right way to do it. You had two options: scream at him and tell him to just stop, that it wasn't worth it, or you could just be there for him, offer him your support in any way you could. And while the idea of screaming was great, you knew that it wasn't going to do any good. In fact, it would probably only worsen the situation that was already bad.

“I don't know what to do,” he said, slightly turning his head towards your neck and taking a deep breath, allowing himself to be completely lost in your scent.

“How bad is it?”

If Jeonghan wasn't willing to share it with you, decided that keeping it a secret was his only option it was probably bad but as moved away from you and pulled his pants up you enough to show the purple bruise on his ankle you realized that it was far worse than you could have imagined.

“Oh my God” you covered your mouth to stop yourself from saying anything else.

You thought back at his program, how he executed all of it flawlessly, how he was in second place — only 0.2 behind the first place — how he had a real chance at winning despite all odds.

“It looks worse than it feels, but it doesn't feel good either”

You pushed his hair back, away from his face. His eyes were filled with unwashed tears, so desperate. Seeing him like that was like having someone squeeze your heart with all of their strength, as if trying to turn it into ashes.

“I'm so close to it and I can see it, it's right there. If I just…” he balled his hands into fists as tears finally ran down his face “I just need to do well, do what I've been practicing and I know I'll get it. But this…”

He punched his thigh, eyes closed.

You took his face into your hands, delicately making him look at you. You had no idea that your heart could break just by looking at someone, had no idea that you would feel that way for someone else in your life. It was a crazy thought, a realization that there was someone else in the world that could make you feel like that.

When you told Jeonghan that you loved him it wasn't a lie. You didn't just threw those words around. Your heart was his and it was shattering for him.

You knew what it meant to him, all of it. Jeonghan might have made it seem as if he was just there to win and call it a day but you knew that it ran deeper than that. It was his last everything when it came down to it. His last competition, yes, but it was also his last everything. The last time he could say figure skater Yoon Jeonghan, after that he would just be retired. He hated the media a little too much to try and be one of those sports celebrities.

“If they tape you up, give you enough painkillers, do you think you could do it?” your words were shaky as you spoke “Do you think it's possible?”

Jeonghan couldn't really believe his ears, in what you were saying to him. He was certain that you would tell him to stop, that it was okay, that he didn't have to go all the way to the end. It was a good run, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone, he could almost hear your voice in his mind.

But right there, in front of him, you stood doing the exact opposite of what he expected.

“I thought you'd tell me to stop”

You kissed his face, close to his eyes, where his tears had stained his cheeks. The first one was quick, the second lingering a little bit more.

“I probably should, but it's not what you need” you kissed his forehead, nose, and lips “You're a force to be reckoned with, Jeonghan. If there's someone in the world that can compete in these conditions it's you”

Your heart was oddly at peace with everything. Sneaking into Jeonghan's room had been reckless but necessary, for both of you.

It was scary to imagine him getting injured again. You knew how hard he worked to be able to even get on the ice at all. You knew what it meant to him, so telling him that it was okay to just try felt natural and in some ways the only right option.

Leaving his room had been hard. All you wanted to do was stay there with him, comforting him, in silence. You just wanted to be by his side but you knew that wasn't possible so you left after kissing him.

Maybe telling him to push through was a bad call, maybe telling him to quit was what was best for him but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. Had it been you, with your last chance ever, would you stop or would just just say fuck it and go down trying?

The answer was easy: you'd do the exact same.

“So…” Seungkwan asked as the four of you walked into the gymnasium “Is he okay?”

Seungkwan was a good friend and someone who worried about Jeonghan. He had been the first one to warm up to him and talk with him. Jeonghan liked him too, calling him Seungkwannie and even inviting him for dinner on occasion.

“Not really,” you said as you finally found your seats “But he's going to compete anyway”

“Can he even do that?” Jihoon asked, “Should he do that?”

Your shoulders rose as you sighed.

“He's doing what he thinks is the best option for him”

The conversation ended just like that. There was nothing left to say. All any of you could do was sit and wait.

Jeonghan skated into the rink. His face was serious, no emotion on display. It was a mask of a man who was focused on what he had to do. He eyes the center of the rink, unblinking.

His costume of choice was very simple, just a plain black blouse with silver and blue details on the sleeves and around his neck. His hair was tied back and away from his face.

Looking at him one wouldn’t be able to say that he was in pain, that his ankle was twice its normal size, so close to just giving up. No one could tell that he was shaking. It was imperceptible to those on the bleachers that his heart was beating so fast, so loudly, that he could feel it in his ears.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Once. Twice. Again. He thought of you, with your hands clasped together in a silent prayer, he thought of his mother and sister watching him from home. He thought about himself two and a half years before, how hard he had worked to get to that rink one last time. He thought back to his ten years old self, when he first dreamt of the Olympics.

Winning was his only option.

Jeonghan opened his eyes as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The entire gymnasium erupted in loud cheers while Jeonghan thanked the audience, one side, then another. He bows his head a few times, catching one of the bunny dolls thrown at the rink in mid air. His smile is beautiful and large. He became pure happiness and you know that it couldn’t be any different.

Jeonghan managed to deliver his performance in complete perfection, no obvious mistakes were made. You were certain the judges would find something to deduce points but there was no way that he wouldn’t place first.

He waved at the crowd and somehow the cheering got even louder. It’s not his home country but it felt as if everyone in there was applauding him more than all of the athletes before him. And maybe that was really the case.

Jeonghan’s injury had been disclosed to the public right before the beginning of the competition and people love the idea of someone who can overcome whatever it is that stops them, an injury, a disease.

Jeonghan whirled around one more time, hand in the air waving, when face his contorted, his beautiful smile gone and he fell to his knees.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

He didn’t move an inch, he didn’t get put but he also didn’t do much else. It was when you started to worry that there was something wrong. Even from that far back, you saw his arms shake, his eyes shut close, and his hand balled into fists. It became painfully obvious that there was something wrong.

The cheering and applause didn’t stop or got quieter. If anything, the volume only got louder. The crowd seemed to think that he was still thanking them, that he was overwhelmed with emotions, that he was exhausted after such a perfect performance.

He did the unthinkable, he managed to finish his performance flawlessly, lading jump, after jump, after jump. And he did, on the last performance of his career, at his last Olympics.

Jeonghan hadn’t announced it yet, but that was his last everything. After that day, he would leave behind his days in figure skating and would try to search for something else to do with his life. It was the last of him, ever, and he ended it on such a high note.

After more than a year of following him, talking to him, and understanding who Jeonghan was and what his stage persona was, you knew that it was not the emotions he was feeling. Although the man could be very humble at times, he wasn’t to that extent. He wouldn’t be on his knees for a full minute.

That’s when you saw coach run to the ice, two paramedics right behind him.

You rush down the bleachers, trying to see what’s happening on the ice while trying not to fall face first. The coach talked with Jeonghan, and whatever the older man said got a reply and Jeonghan shook his head. You didn’t know what he’s saying.

I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. I’m not in pain. I’m just tired.

Those are the words you wished he said, on just a collection of them

Vernon took the camera and did a run down of the crowd before turning it to Jeonghan, still on his knees. You didn’t know what to do. The two of them were right behind you, Vernon and Seungkwan, their footsteps way too loud for you to notice that the crowd had finally stopped cheering, finally noticing that the situation wasn’t as good as they first expected it to be.

Your eyes never really left Jeonghan. The only thought going through your mind at that moment was to get to him as fast as possible, to hold his hand. That simple action wouldn’t mean much, you knew that, and you would do it more for yourself than for him. But you liked to think that in such a moment, he would want you by his side.

The paramedics raised Jeonghan, his arms around their shoulders while they carried him out of the ring. One of his feet slides with ease, while he holds the other one up in a weird position, slightly tilted back.

That’s when you knew. The issue on his ankle. He took it too far with the performance and practices, landing on it time and time again.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around. You pressed your hand on the lens of Vernon’s camera pushing it until he finally lowered it.

“Stop filming, right now” it wasn’t a request, your voice wasn’t kind. It was an order, one you needed him to follow “From now on, nothing gets filmed”

Vernon looked confused, his eyes darting to Seungkwan, as if asking for help in a way.

“But it’s our job,” he said.

You shook your head.

“Our job, what we needed to film, ended the second he landed that jump. Now it’s not the time to record him”

Seungkwan understands what you’re saying, he too pressed a hand on Vernon’s camera, pushing it even further down, shaking his head and his friends looked at him worried.

You turned away from them, eyes immediately falling on Jeonghan.

For a moment you thought that they wouldn't let you through. Security had no idea of who you were. So why would they let a strange woman be anywhere near the athlete? But they did let you through. You didn’t know how, you didn't know why, but you also didn’t dare to question.

They just moved out of the way, making a path for you. You followed the coach back to the locker rooms, ignoring the fact that you shouldn’t be there, not in the male one anyway.

You finally reached Jeonghan. His face was pale, paler than usual, his lips were turning purple.

“Jeonghan” his name leaves your lips in a breath.

He reached a hand for you once the paramedics laid him down on a stretcher.

“Baby,” he said, voice barely above a whisper “I did it. Did you see it?”

You pushed his hair away from his forehead, surprised with his cold sweat.

“You did it, you were fantastic”

He smiled at you, his eyes not really focusing on you or on anything else.

“I think I broke something,” he said, voice low “I don’t know, it just hurts. A lot”

You looked at his coach, the man didn’t know either, but his eyes were focused on Jeonghan's ankle. Your eyes move to the paramedic, who as carefully as possible trying to remove his skates.

The doctor that accompanied Jeonghan since the surgery finally approached him. The man too looked as white as a candle.

Jeonghan had finally taken it too far.

“You cut your hair, '' you said, as you tucked your legs under your thighs, sitting comfortably on the fluff carpet in Jeonghan’s living room.

Seungkwan stood behind you and by his side was Vernon. It was the place where it all started, so it seemed fitting that it also ended there.

Jeonghan nodded, running his hand through the loose strands. You drummed your fingers over your thighs, thinking about how just a couple of hours before you were playing with his hair while he had his head on your belly because your stomach is being noisy and I want to sleep when you told him he could move, he just hugged your waist tighter rubbing his face on your skin nope.

“I thought it would be a good change” he pouted a little, unconsciously “I still need to get used to it.”

Why did you think it would be a good change?”

He narrowed his eyes for a second. He had that conversation with you before. For a moment he forgot that the version of you he talked with was his girlfriend, not the documentarist sitting in front of him.

“I started to grow my hair after the whole incident with the press” he made a dismissive gesture with his hand “I think I sort of wanted to hide from them and the hair helped a lot. In a way, I think a new haircut symbolizes a new start? You know, now that I’m no longer an athlete”

You nodded, smiling at him. It always took his breath away, your smile. He loved the way you had been constantly smiling around him, the frown that seemed to have a permanent stay between your eyebrows when you first met was nowhere in sight.

“How does it feel, being retired?”

“If you asked me that four years ago, I’d say that it sounded like my words nightmare. But now after so many injuries and surgeries, it felt like the timing was right. If you think about it, the way it ended for me was pretty epic”

Jeonghan matched your smile as the memories started to flood his mind. The way he almost blacked out due to the pain in his ankle, the way the crowd screamed so loudly and he refused to believe that it was because of him, at least not until Bumzu came back to his side, his eyes red with unshed tears.

“You fucking idiot of a human, you did it”

You had kissed his temple multiple times, telling him how brave he was, how strong he was. "Most people would have walked away before even getting on the rink” you had said later that night after all of you had finally gotten back from the hospital. Jeonghan was prohibited from using his foot and needed to have surgery once again after the worst part of the swelling subsided.

He remembers refusing to be taken away to get his ankle checked until he saw with his own eyes that he had won. He was carried out by Bumzu and Joshua despite the doctor’s cries that he should be taken to the hospital. You followed the three of them close behind.

Jeonghan smiled at the screen hanging from the roof. His name stood at the top of the list, in big letters, the number one attached to it.

As he stood on the podium, gold medal around his neck, Jeonghan saw you clamming and screaming, a huge smile on your face as tears ran down your cheeks. He had finally gotten his wish, to see you being as eloquent as possible, cheering for him.

“Most people would agree with you”

“I feel bad about making my family worry though. But they understand, I think”

His sister has screamed at him over the phone, angry that he asked them not to go watch him — mostly because he was scared to have them there while he failed — that he never told them about his injuries. But also happy for him. Truthfully he didn’t understand some of what she said, talking while crying was not her forte.

You looked back at Seungkwan over your shoulder and both of you nodded. Jeonghan watched as you closed the small notebook in your hands and put it aside.

“This is the last question of this documentary, so make your answer a good one, okay?” you said teasingly “Now that you can’t skate again, what are your plans for the future?”

Saying that Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to skate again was maybe a little exaggeration. Sure, there was no way he’d ever be able to compete again — nor did he wanted to —, but maybe after he was all healed he could do it again just for fun. That wasn’t something he was going to say directly at you. You had gotten worried after his new injury that even conversations about past competitions made you shiver, it had gotten so bad that you had nightmares about him getting hurt again and in those his end was never quite as good or epic as the one he actually got. So Jeonghan thought that it was for the best to not talk about it, at least for the time being while he still hadn’t been cleared by his doctor.

“With my career?” he bit his lip, truly thinking about it “For now, nothing. I’ve been competing for almost twenty years, in the rink for about 22 years, I think I deserve to stop and just not do anything for a while. In my personal life, I want to spend some time with my family, which is something that I always skipped because practice was just more important. I haven’t spent a birthday with them in years”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes on you.

“I have a girlfriend, right. And she had this little notebook, I think she might be a little obsessed with notebooks and pens, and everything stationary related” he whispered the last part making you roll your eyes “She writes in those places she wants to go to. So, if I can convince her to take a few vacation days, I want to take her to those places”

“You suck,” you said.

“You didn’t seem to…”

Seungkwan took a step forward and blocked the view of the camera, his eyes wide.

“Okay, that’s a wrap everyone! Thank you!”

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honeyedmiller · 3 months

Text

A Burning Desire part one

firefighter!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: joel miller au, fluff, mutual pining, reader is a tad bit shy, sort of a slow burn, tons of flirting, reader gets into a serious car accident (but they’re fine i promise), mentions of minor cuts, bruises and disorientation from car accident, brief mentions of blood, no use of y/n. some descriptions of the car accident may not be suitable for everyone to read, so please be weary of this if you choose to read on.

word count: 3.1k

synopsis: you meet a handsome firefighter on a day where everything just feels… different.

a/n: would you believe me if i said this au has been in my drafts since october of last year? it’s a miracle i actually finished it. i scrapped the first idea i had for this au and switched it to this instead. hope you enjoy!

divider by @saradika-graphics

Today wasn’t like most days.

Something had felt off. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but a feeling was there, idling in the depths of your very being.

Maybe it was the way the summer sun was actually shining instead of a roaring thunderstorm rolling through Austin. Maybe it was the way you’d woken up to the sound of mourning doves, the birds you swore you hadn’t heard since childhood. Maybe it was the pleasant walk you had taken to your local café, multiple strangers smiling at you along the way.

Or, maybe, it was the handsome stranger behind you in line at the café that had caught your eye.

You didn’t mean to look intentionally. You just happened to have wandering eyes, enjoying the cozy atmosphere of Rosemary’s Roastery before your gaze settled on him—the incredibly handsome stranger behind you in line.

You did a once-over, subtlety not your strong suit today. You immediately noticed he was in navy blue slacks with a black leather belt holding them up at his waist, and a navy blue shirt with Austin FD printed on the upper left corner.

So he was a firefighter.

His kind brown eyes caught yours, and time fucking stopped when he smiled at you. You felt your face heat, tossing him a shy smile before turning back around.

The barista called you up to the counter, and after you gave her your order, you quietly asked if you could pay for the gentleman behind you. She nods with a smile and you wait at the other end of the counter for your drink.

You watch as the firefighter orders his drink, bewilderment crossing his features when the barista told him his drink had already been paid for. He nods slowly with a smile, tucking his wallet back into the front pocket of his slacks.

He walks over to the other end of the counter, a shoulder length away from you before turning to you.

“You didn’t have to do that, darlin’.” His sweet Southern accent dripped like honey through your veins, warming you in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“It was– uh– no big deal.” You shrug, and he chuckles before crossing his arms over his chest.

Christ was he broad. His thick biceps strained against the navy blue fabric of his shirt, tan skin glowing under the soft lighting of the café.

The veins on his forearms were prominent when he flexed his arms with every subtle move. And, god, he was so tall.

Aside from his dark brown eyes, he had a defined jaw that was sprinkled with graying stubble and a mustache above his dark pink lips to match. His nose was strong and angular; something of a Greek god himself. His hair was dark brown with grays strewn in, the only indicator of his age. If you had to guess, it’s between mid thirties to early forties.

He quirked a brow at you, hiding his amusement poorly as you checked him out.

Yeah, subtlety definitely wasn’t your strong suit at all.

“So what’s your name?” He asks, and you open your mouth to speak before the barista calls your name out to indicate your drink was ready. You sheepishly smile up at him as you thank her and grab your iced coffee.

“Guess that answers that,” He chuckles, holding out his hand. You slot your hand in his and he gives yours a shake. “I’m Joel.”

The barista called his name as well, and he thanked her as he grabbed his coffee.

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” You pull him back in for conversation, deciding to throw all of your shyness behind you. “So, firefighter?” You ask, and he looks confused for a split second before he looks down at his t-shirt.

He rolls his eyes at himself with a huff of a laugh. “Was thinkin’ you were psychic for a second before I realized my uniform says it clear as day.” He laughed at himself, and it was incredibly infectious.

You couldn’t help but admire the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. You were so enamored by someone you just met, allowing yourself to indulge in the warm feeling you got in your belly when you talked to him. Never in your life have you experienced this, but the way he made you feel just a few minutes into some small talk had you yearning for him to stick around.

“My brother and I joined the academy together and now we work at the same station.” He’s thoughtful when he speaks, a telltale sign that him and his brother might be close.

“That’s really cool. Bet it’s fun working beside him.” You say lamely, internally cringing at yourself for your awful attempt at flirting.

He doesn’t seem to notice, and thank god for that.

“It is, when he’s not bein’ a pain in my ass.”

“Younger brother I’m assuming?” You guess, and Joel looks at you quizzically.

“Alright, y’sure you’re not psychic or somethin’?”

You smile and shake your head. “Not at all, Joel. Just good at picking up context clues.”

“What about the one where I was gonna ask a gorgeous stranger for her number?” His teasing tone warms you, and you bite your lip to suppress the face-splitting smile that was threatening to spill onto your lips.

“Who’s the stranger? Lucky girl she is.” You play along.

“Some kind samaritan who decided to pay for my much needed coffee this fine summer morning.” He hums, leaning against the wall next to him.

“Mm. In that case,” You reach over to the section with the fixings for drinks, grabbing a napkin. You pull a pen out of your purse before scribbling your name and number on the napkin, handing it to Joel. “There you are.”

He waves the napkin in between both of your bodies, eyes alight with happiness.

“Definitely usin’ this to text the gorgeous stranger n’ ask her on a date.”

“Lucky girl. Hope she’ll say yes.” You nudge him softly.

“I hope she does too,” He grins, looking down at his watch-clad wrist—green band with a black and gray face. His brow furrows and he sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. “‘M real sorry darlin’ I gotta jam. My shift starts in twenty minutes.”

“No worries, Joel. Hope you have a good shift.”

“Thank you darlin’. I’ll keep in touch.” He holds up the napkin with a smirk, turning to walk out of the front door.

You watch as he walks to his truck before exiting the side door, walking back to your apartment.

“Does this mean you have a date for my wedding?” Your sister asks excitedly on the other end of the receiver.

“Seriously? I just met this man today.” You roll your eyes and continue jotting down grocery items you need to stock up on on a pad of paper.

“So what? If you guys hit it off that quick then maybe he’d wanna tag along.”

“You do realize that he’d have to meet the whole family, right? I wouldn’t subject him to that. Plus, we’re getting too ahead of ourselves. I don’t even know if this is gonna go anywhere yet.”

“Oh come on. Live a little. Let yourself be happy for once, sis.” Your sister is persistent, you’ll give her that.

“I was fine being single before our small interaction this morning, and I’ll be fine at your wedding without a date too. I’m fine.” Which is sort of true, sort of a lie. You didn’t mind being single, because, hell, it had its perks.

But another part of you—deep, deep down in the depths of your being, so badly wanted someone to give a shit about you in a romantic sense. You yearned for someone to hold you, someone to do cheesy shit with, someone that you could call home.

Your sister sighs on the other end of the line. “I know you’re Miss Independent and all, but you need to learn to let go of the reins a little bit. The world won’t end if you give up an ounce of control.”

You hated when she was right. Your sister, being a few years older than you, always had the superiority complex with I told you so’s plastered across her forehead.

You couldn’t deny the truth, though, and the truth was you really needed to let yourself have this. Let go and unashamedly let this kind, handsome man take you out on a date. Let him sweep you off your feet. Let him treat you right, because it’d been few far and between since a man has done that for you.

If the way you felt around him this morning was any indication that you should just relinquish control, that was it.

“Fine. But I’m still not inviting him to your wedding.”

And your sister laughs heartily, making you crack a small smile.

“Right. I gotta go, but keep me updated on him!”

“I will. Love you.” And she says it back, hanging up the phone. You sigh and stare down at your grocery list, continuing where you left off.

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzed again. A text from an unknown number.

Unknown number:

This wouldn’t happen to be the pretty stranger I met at Rosemary’s this morning, would it? ;)

You laugh at the text, biting to suppress a growing smile as you type a response.

You:

Depends, is this the handsome firefighter who put the number on the napkin to good use?

You saved the number under ‘Joel’, finishing off your list before you received another text.

Joel:

Sure is, sweetheart. Although I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘handsome.’ Glad to know the number you gave me wasn’t fake.

You:

Me? Give you a fake number? Now that would just be downright stupid of me, wouldn’t it?

Joel:

Stupid how?

You:

Why would I give up an opportunity to get to know a (yes, very handsome, by the way) man such as yourself?

Joel:

You flatter me, sweetheart. I’m glad we met this morning.

You can’t contain your smile anymore, having half a mind to drive down to the fire station to see him in person again.

You:

I’m glad we did too, Joel.

Joel:

Watcha up to right now?

You:

Heading for the grocery store :) I need to restock a bunch of stuff. How’s your shift going?

You double check your purse for everything you need before you stuff your grocery list and phone into your bag, grabbing your keys before locking up and heading out.

The drive to the grocery store was only ten minutes. Emerald Eyes by Fleetwood Mac softly played through the speakers in your car, and you wondered briefly what kind of music Joel liked to listen to. You smile softly at yourself at the thought of him once more, shaking your head as the light turned green. You had to get a grip.

And then, halfway through the intersection, a loud crash had sounded. It took you several seconds as shock and adrenaline coursed through your body that you realized you were the one who got hit. You hit your head on the driver’s side window, a throbbing pain nearly unbearable sprouting within seconds. Your car spun out, glass shattering everywhere and airbag deploying as you gripped onto the steering wheel for dear life.

“Shit shit shit!” You cry, and once your car was at a stand still, you tried your hardest to look out at the scene to decipher what happened. You know your light was green, so someone must’ve run the red.

Other civilians pulled over and gathered around the accident, and you hoped someone was calling 911. Your vision became blurry as your head was pounding, and you groaned in pain as you tried to open the driver’s side door of your car. Your limbs felt like steel. You were shaky as you attempted to shove at your door, but you realized the door was stuck. You were trapped in your car.

Panic started to seize your whole body until you heard the faint wail of sirens.

Good. Someone called for help. Good. Good good good, you repeated in your head.

The sirens started to get closer, and you heard people shouting once the firetruck, ambulance, and cops arrived on the scene.

Joel’s seen many nasty accidents before. The most gruesome, heart wrenching things nobody should ever have to see.

And yet, he didn’t feel panicked when he was rescuing people, being the hero everyone claims he is. But when he saw that the woman who got hit was you, he started to internally panic. He seized up at the sight of you with tears in your eyes, blood dripping down the side of your face from the cuts of shattered glass.

“We gotta get her out of there. Tommy, hand me the jaws.”

“Joel, we need to wait for Cap’s orders.”

“I’ll get them myself.” Joel grits, passing by his Captain to grab the jaws.

“Miller, what are you doing?” His Captain asks, and Joel looks at the man.

“I know that woman in that car. Her door is stuck.” Joel’s desperate eyes trail back to your totaled car, and his Captain nods.

“Have Tommy help you.” He says, and Joel nods. Joel motions for Tommy to follow him.

“Hey sweetheart,” You hear Joel’s voice, and you swear you’re hallucinating until you see he approaches your car in a hurry. “We’re gonna get you out, okay? I promise you’ll be out soon.”

His voice is soothing, and a sob leaves your throat at his familiar, kind face.

“You’re gonna hear some loud creakin’ but it’s jus’ me gettin’ the door open.” He warns, and a few seconds later you hear the loud groan of metal being pried with something sturdy. The door pops open a minute later, and Joel reaches over to unbuckle your seatbelt before lifting you out of your car. His muscles ripple beneath you even through all of his gear, careful not to jostle you too much. He didn’t know the extent of your injuries, but he was hoping they weren’t too bad.

“Hey, you’re okay darlin.’ I got ya. Let’s let the EMT’s check you out to make sure you’re okay.” Joel places you on a stretcher while the EMT’s get to work, asking you a bunch of questions that you try to answer. You’re still a bit shaken up, but they concluded that you’d be fine. You only had a few cuts and bruises, and they cleaned up the blood swiftly.

You were fine to walk, so Joel gently draped a blanket over your shoulders as you sat on the ambulance’s bumper. He sat down beside you and sighed as you both looked out to the other car that hit you. A police officer came up to you and asked for your information, letting you know the person who hit you was texting and driving.

“Are they okay?” You ask the officer, and she nods.

“They’ll be fine. You both got very lucky today.” She says, walking off to talk with the few other officers on the scene.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you look up at him. Worry is blatantly evident in his eyes, and it makes you melt. You just met this man hours prior and he cares about you much more than you probably deserve.

“I’m fine. ‘S gonna fucking suck trying to find a new car, though.” You huff a laugh, and Joel grins as he stares down at his hands knotted in his lap.

“Listen, I know we just met n’ all, but seeing you like that in your car scared the hell outta me, n’ I’d never ask a lady for permission to kiss her before the first date, but I just—”

You lay a hand on his arm, a smile on your face as you try to stop his rambling. Your sister’s words from earlier replayed themselves in your head: You need to learn to let go of the reins a little bit. The world won’t end if you give up an ounce of control.

And so you did just that. It was time you stopped worrying about the consequences of falling, because fuck did you deserve happiness. You had quite the hunch that Joel could give you just that.

Any man that saves me from being trapped inside of a car, is a man I’ll let kiss me anyday.” Your voice is gentle as you look at him with a burning desire.

And he does. He smiles softly and leans in, his plush lips enveloping yours in a steady, calculated motion.

You’d be a goddamn liar if you said you didn’t feel like you were floating. You gasped softly into the kiss, and a knowing smile curled onto Joel’s lips as he pulled away in the slightest.

“I feel it too.” And his lips are on yours again. You thread a hand through his thick locks, deepening the kiss marginally, until you hear a throat clear before you.

“Really, Miller?” One of his coworkers said with a shit-eating grin, and a man, who’s name you think is Tommy, pipes up as well.

“Ah, so this is the woman you’ve been talkin’ my ear off all day about. Nice to meet you darlin’, I’m Joel’s brother.” He sticks his hand out and you shake it while introducing yourself, turning to Joel after with an eyebrow raised.

“Talking about me all day, hm?” You tease, and his cheeks burn bright red. He clears his throat and waves his hand out in front of himself, brushing you guys off.

“Whatever.” He mumbles toward Tommy and his coworker, and they laugh as they begin to walk away.

“It’s alright. I was talking about you today, too.” You avow to him.

His eyebrows raise in shock.

“To who?” He asks.

“My sister.”

“Mm. N’ what’d she have to say?” He questions, leaning in closer to you once more.

“She said I should give it a shot with you.”

“Really? And what do you think about that?” A smirk makes its way onto his plush lips, and your face heats at his question. You decided to be honest with him anyway.

“Told her I’d give it a shot.” You bite your lip to keep from smiling too hard, heart thumping in your chest as a low chuckle rumbles through his throat.

“‘M real glad y’did, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to yours once more, butterflies raging through your whole body. Your veins are pumping with excitement and adrenaline, reveling in the man that is Joel Miller.

Today really wasn’t like most days, but the unwavering sweetness from the handsome stranger behind you at the café truly was the start of something more than you could’ve ever wished for.

if you want a part two, lmk!

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @amanitacowboy ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @nerdieforpedro ; @brittmb115 ; @joelsranchbaby ; @lovely-ateez ; @nandan11

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #firefighter!joel #Joel Miller au #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagines #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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rhaenella · 4 months

Text

CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.7

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain

face claim: léon

a/n: the finale... once again, all songs mentioned are either by taylor swift or léon. happy reading x

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,292,849 others

y/n: End & New Beginnings. ONE WEEK.

✨Is It Over Now?~Say Don’t Go~Bigger Than The Whole Sky~You’re Losing Me~Now That We Don’t Talk~Pretty Boy✨

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user55: y/n’s latest masterpiece is incoming!!

user56: YES GIRL LETS GO

user57: omg finally 😱

user58: can’t fucking wait 💛

user59: babe are you realizing you’re releasing on friday the 13th 💀

user56: y/n is like “i’ve conquered all this year’s bad luck already, no one can stop me”

6 October

Liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,450,288 others

y/n: It feels like it’s been a long time coming and now it’s here, my new EP ‘End & New Beginnings’ 🤍 Been a few sleepless nights making this to be honest. Ups and downs like always. But now I’m just so happy to let go of it and let you have it, and hopefully you’ll embrace it and make it yours.

To the incredible people who’ve been a part of this record, THANK YOU! Couldn’t have done it without you…

Here’s to the end & new beginnings 🕊️

View all 14,159 comments

taylorswift: Perfection 🥰✨🎼😍💋

y/n: ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo: ART.

Liked by y/n

lilymhe: Beautiful work sweetie, I can’t with how talented you are 🥹 You made me cry the entire 23 mins (and then again cuz it was on repeat)

y/n: Awww, thank you love 🥰 and I’m sorryyyy 🙊

alex_albon: It’s so so good! I didn’t cry tho…

lilymhe: Liar

Liked by y/n

landonorris: Wow 💕

Liked by y/n

yourbestfriend: You’ve outdone yourself once again, darling, love you

y/n: I love you more baby

user60: as someone who’s just gone through a terrible breakup too, i cannot express how comforting it is to hear these songs and realize i’m not alone

Liked by y/n

13 October

—

You let your phone drop to the bathroom counter, blinking slowly, unable to fathom the conversation that had just taken place. Had he really just said those things? Scrolling through the texts confirmed that yes, he had indeed. The bastard.

Charles had always been the jealous type. But attacking you like that when he had been the one to… It was absolutely ridiculous. Apparently he still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—grasp the depths of how much he had actually hurt you.

You’d loved him with all of your heart. Until he had ripped it out and hurled it to the floor, letting it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Yet, even then, you would’ve forgiven him. If only he’d apologised. If only he’d shown true remorse. But he hadn’t. And so you’d been forced to walk the path of mending your own heart, and move on with your life.

Perhaps a small part of you had hoped that he could be happy for you. That somehow, even after everything, you would be able to greet each other normally—that you could coexist peacefully. But as his texts just now had demonstrated, that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. And definitely not next week in Texas. You sighed. It would’ve been too good to be true, anyway. Especially considering who you were currently seeing…

A light knock sounded at the door, startling you out of those thoughts.

“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” a male voice asked, soft.

Right. Dinner. Celebrations.

You had been in the midst of applying the finishing touches to your makeup and outfit before Charles had interrupted, quite literally shocking you to the core when his name had appeared on your lock screen. He’d been the last person you’d expected to hear from today.

You swallowed the bitter taste that Charles’ texts had managed to leave behind. He wasn’t worth it, you repeated to yourself. You weren’t going to let his shenanigans ruin a perfect night—a perfect date. You ran a hand through your hair and readjusted the necklace around your neck when the bathroom door creaked open behind you.

Looking up, your eyes met your handsome, new boyfriend’s through the mirror. He was smiling, eyebrows raised in silent question, ever patient as he waited for you to finish up. You felt your pulse quicken at the sight of him, dressed to perfection in a dark suit, hair neatly tousled.

As always, his presence was able to reassure you within the blink of an eye, the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders relaxing as you gladly let all of your complex emotions fall away.

“Yes,” you nodded, a genuine smile spreading across your lips. “I’m ready.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

THE END

but who is she with? well, there’s a little (and not so subtle) easter egg that refers back to the beginning of part 6 that will confirm certain things… have you spotted it?

thank you everyone for coming along on this ride! it’s been a hell of a lot of fun writing and creating this story 🥰 my apologies to all the y/n x charles shippers out there, but as our songbird said: here’s to the end and new beginnings…

Now, if you'd like, please cast your votes below :)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc @nichmeddar @imthebadguyyy

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x singer reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc fake social media #formula 1 smau #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #is it over now?

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supernovafics · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win.

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic.

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold.

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors.

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled.

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?”

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five.

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington.

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then.

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything.

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium.

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again.

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms.

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders.

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored.

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil.

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand.

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.”

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place.

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent.

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks.

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?”

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over.

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask.

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock.

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink.

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t.

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.”

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him.

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours.

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod.

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever.

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand.

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.”

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him.

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you.

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.”

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family.

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle.

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?”

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness.

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?”

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say.

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly.

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.”

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got.

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver.

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since.

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious.

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different.

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour.

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.”

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier.

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned.

“Steve Harrington.”

“Oh.”

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.”

“Okay, what was he like?”

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.”

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness.

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be.

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two.

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over.

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.”

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today.

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process.

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner.

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table.

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.”

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.”

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.”

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?”

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose.

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry.

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep.

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him.

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left.

“You guys okay in there?”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine.

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him.

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes.

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep.

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped.

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in.

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets.

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?”

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids.

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else.

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again.

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.”

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing.

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind.

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so.

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought.

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing.

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you.

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

PART TWO

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