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fourmoony · 4 months

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𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧

james potter x f!reader | modern!hockey au

cw: injury, language, use of pain medication (gas and air), exes reconciliation

summary - James is there for ex!reader when she has an accident on the ice.

2.8k

Took a break from writing ch3 of FOW to write this lil ficcy.

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The arena goes silent the minute the programme music starts, the lights a deep blue, the music soft and slow. He’s on the Gryffindor bench, helmet at his feet, bottle half empty and hanging limply from his hands – they’re cold now they’re out of his gloves. The rest of the team has eyes on the tunnel, the whole arena does, and when James catches sight of you, he understands why, would singlehandedly go into the stands and force anyone who wasn’t paying enough attention to just – look.

Look at the way you skate so softly, like every movement comes straight from your soul, the way your dress glitters under the light, the way it makes your skin glow. He thinks you’re ethereal, honestly. He always has. But he’s not exactly allowed to think that, anymore, is he?

You skid to a stop in the middle of the ice, getting into position. Remus places a supportive hand on James’ shoulder, gives his friend an understanding look. Everything you do is always so precise, so fluid and beautiful. The way you skate is pure elegance, unlike hockey, which is rough and fast, harsh movements and even harsher words. The music fades out, changes to the start of a song James has never seen you skate to, before. But then, he supposes – he hasn’t seen you skate in four months. He hasn’t watched you try, and try, fall, and try, and fall again until you get a new move, a new routine, a sense of achievement.

He hasn’t sat on the bleachers freezing his arse off after practice just to be in your presence, or took you to eat, after. He hasn’t made sure you’re eating, sleeping, taking time to look after and care for yourself, and not just your talent.

You look different. Still beautiful, still the girl James fell in love with. But you look different. He can’t pinpoint it, really. There’s just a difference in the way you look straight at the empty penalty box as you wait for your cue that doesn’t sit right in James’ chest. It’s clunky and a little painful, a broken promise of something. You’re not looking at him. Whenever you skate at Hogwarts Arena – you look for James. Whether he’s playing or in the crowd. A nod from him, and you’re off like a shot into whatever performance your coach has chosen. Now, though, you’re staring blankly at the penalty box, not James.

He gets it, he does. It’s over. Has been for a while. But he wishes you’d look over, knows how nervous you get, wants to give you a reassuring smile. James sees the way your knees wobble as you kick off, floating across the ice like you could be flying.

You make it look so effortless, skating. You look weightless as you twist and turn into jumps James could never imagine being able to pull off – and he’s been skating since he could walk. He admires the steady movements, the emotion on your face as you glide, and spin, and jump, and the emotion on your face as the music follows the highs and lows of your routine. You’re so focussed you don’t seem to notice how the pain, the heartache of the song, the weight of the routine, bleeds from you.

It’s beautiful, in a way.

You’re beautiful in every way.

James feels the weight of watching you crushing him like a building sitting on his chest. He’s been slammed into the boards eight times in the first two quarters – not once had it hurt as much as watching you out there, so lovely, so gentle, so sad, so close but so fucking far. James thinks perhaps Remus’ hand on his shoulder is to keep him in place, for if it wasn’t there, he’d be out on the ice following you, right now. Heart in his hand, begging you to take it, no matter what it costs you both.

He’s always been selfish with love. He knows that, now. He does.

James should see it coming a mile off. He knows everything about you, the way you skate. He has every breath change, every wobble, every movement you make on the ice memorised. So, when you jump off with your left pick instead of your right – James should know what’s about to happen. You spin once, and James realises, too late, that jumping with the wrong foot has thrown you off. You’re on the ice in less than a second, the music cuts off, the crowd and both teams make gasping noises, murmured concerns. James doesn’t hear any of it.

All he can hear is the ice shattering scream you let out.

You don’t get up. James waits several seconds, and you don’t get up. Remus shoves him, Sirius pulls open the board door and James, in only his under armour and protective trousers, skates loosened for the break, skates to you as fast as he can. There’s cheering from the crowd when James comes flying out of the team box, but James can’t hear any of it over the sounds you’re making.

He’s seen you fall hundreds of times. He’s seen you pull muscles and break ribs, bruise tail bones, sprain ankles and he has never heard you make noise like this in his life. The medics haven’t arrived yet, James skids to a stop, drops to his knees. You don’t look up, face tilted towards the ice – a media training stunt so the crowd can’t see how much pain you’re actually in. But he can tell your eyes are screwed shut, fists clenched so tight he’s concerned you might break your wrists.

He says your name, soft, gentle, and it sounds foreign coming out of his mouth.

You take a shuddering breath, head tilting in the cage your arms have made for it just slightly. Your eyes are filled with so much fear that James finds it hard to breathe, tears spilling out and onto your red cheeks, “My hip. My hip, Jamie, my hip.”

You sound terrified, broken, in agonising pain. James shouts for a medic, loud enough that he thinks the whole arena can hear. There’s refs and managers, your skating coach, all on the ice when the medics come running. James feels as though he could throttle every last one for taking so long. You’re crying, curled in on yourself, and James knows better than to touch you, like this. It makes the pain worse, makes you feel like you’re suffocating. And he thinks, maybe, that you just don’t want him to touch you, regardless, anyway.

The medics slide the board under you, roll you onto your back and the scream of agony you let out breaks James. He’s crying, and you reach for his hand, squeeze it so tight he feels his bones rub together.

“Potter!” Moody, his coach, yells after him when he starts to follow the medics off the ice with you.

“I’m not leaving her.” James doesn’t leave room for negotiation, doesn’t want Moody to challenge him on this because he might do something stupid and lose his place in the league all together.

His coach sighs, nods, and James is off like a shot. He catches up with you in the tunnel, headed straight for the Gryffindor PT room. You’re still sobbing, awful, throaty cries that are etching their way around James’ ribs, threatening to break and scratch and pull at them. It’s a flurry of noise and shouting and protests from you whenever someone comes close to touching your hip. It’s chaos.

James isn’t really all that sure if you’ve fully registered that he’s there, honestly, or if you’re in so much pain you don’t have it in you to argue over his presence. The medic gives James a look, a rather pointed one, when you refuse for the millionth time to let anyone touch your hip. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. You’re not his girlfriend, anymore. You’re not his, you don’t love him. He can’t comfort you the way he used to.

“Jamie,” You’re breathless, face red and blotchy, hand gripping his, looking up at him with fear, “Don’t let them. It hurts.”

And James feels like he’s drowning.

“Hey,” He gets close to your face, the thumb of his free hand swiping away the tears from your eyes, “They can’t help you if you don’t let them see what’s wrong.”

“It hurts.”

“I know,” He soothes, pushing strands of hair from your forehead, “But it’s gonna hurt a lot longer if you don’t let them fix it.”

You seem to consider, hiccupping breaths filling the silence. The medic makes an impatient sound and James throws him a cutting look.

“Short term pain, long term gain.” James murmurs into the skin of your forehead. It's a joke saying - something you used to say rather bitterly when you hurt yourself learning a new stunt.

You don’t flinch, don’t pull away or protest when he presses his lips to the heated skin. It provides the distraction the medics need to cut the seam of your dress and reveal the skin of your hip. A junior medic passes you a nozzle, wheels a tank to the side of the table you’re on, and passes you it, ��Gas and air. You’re going to need it.”

James wishes he could have some, too.

The medics work, you almost chew through the air nozzle when they try to push your hip back into place, and eventually, James has to murmur panicked and overly loud sweet nothings into your ear over the gut wrenching cries you let out when the medic yanks and then pushes your hip right back into place.

The game is long since over. Gryffindor won.

You’re limp on the table, waiting for the crowd to leave before the ambulance can make it to the player exit. James sits, watches you drift in and out of consciousness, begs his heart to return to normal because you’re not in pain anymore, not in danger. You’re here. In front of him. Okay.

Sirius appears a little after the game, freshly showered and in his suit.

“She okay?” He asks, hands stuffed into his suit trouser pockets.

You and Sirius are close. Still. James doesn’t hold it against either of you. You’ve both been such an intracule part of each other’s lives that he’d be evil for expecting that to come to an end just because you and James didn’t work out. You both deserve better than his jealousy.

“Dislocated her hip. They think she’s torn some ligaments; need to wait on the hospital scans to be sure.” James replies, eyes roving over your face.

You look so peaceful, asleep. So free of pain, of the fear and agony you’d been in only half an hour ago. His heart aches. He wants to coddle you, assure you you’ll be okay. He knows he can’t.

Sirius nods, “She’ll skate again? Or no?”

The medic hadn’t seemed hopeful. James doesn’t know who’s going to have the job of telling you, but he’s praying for them. You won’t take this news lightly, “Not at the level she’s at now.”

He watches the concern wash over Sirius. They both know what it’s like to skate. Sure, hockey and figure skating are different – but the mindset is often the same. James can’t imagine being told he couldn’t skate. It’s part of him – his soul. As it is, yours.

“You okay?”

James shakes his head, “No. I can’t stop hearing her. That scream, Padfoot - It hollowed me out.”

Sirius nods, like he understands. Perhaps he does, in some way. He heard it, too. “She’s okay. For now. You going in the ambulance?”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate that.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car, then.” Sirius leaves without another word but offers James an understanding look. He gets it. He knows what it’s like for love to hurt. He and Remus spent years hurting each other for no good reason.

The room is quiet when Sirius goes. Just the steady sounds of your breathing, the beeping of your monitor. James allows himself to press his palm to your cheek one last time. He wills himself to stand up, to leave. He can’t manage it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to walk away from you. Not like this.

“Stay. Please.”

You’re awake. He’s not sure how long you’ve been awake, but he has a feeling you heard his conversation with Sirius. His heart feels like it’s been kick started, like for the first time since you hit the ice, he can breathe.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises, thumb rubbing at your neck, hand cupping your jaw.

You nod, swallow, “I won’t skate again, will I?”

“You don’t know that.”

A noise akin to a scoff escapes your lips, which wobble as you speak, “Everyone knows how these injuries end, Jamie. I’ll be a coach, at best.”

He wishes he could tell you that you might make a full recovery, that you’ll go back to being the ethereal, elegant skater you’ve been since he met you all those years ago. He’s never lied to you before, though, so he won’t start now. You both know the statistics, the stories, how it goes. Rehab for six months, and if you’re lucky, you’ll skate in a straight line again.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You shush him, a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, “I should’ve looked for you. I should’ve, I knew I should’ve, but I thought if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming to you. From coming to tell you that I was sorry, that I was wrong, I should’ve…”

James takes his turn shushing you as the quiet sobs rack your body. You used to chide him for his superstitions, it breaks his heart that you think breaking one caused this. He leans over, lips to the skin of your forehead, pressing over and over as though it might make the weight of his love settle into your brain, “No. Please don’t do that, please. Don’t blame yourself. These things happen. Accidents, they happen, no one is a perfect skater, okay?”

“But it’s my fault we broke up.”

You sound so broken, so tired. James doesn’t know what to say, isn't sure what relevance that has to this, so he says nothing.

Time passes, the medics return, bring James his joggies and hoodie and his shoes. He changes quickly, comes in the ambulance to the hospital.

He waits with you, holds your hand, gives you as much reassurance as he can. The doctor tells you three hours later that you’ll never skate at the same level again, and James holds you. He’s careful not to crush you when he climbs into the hospital bed, and he holds you until there’s no more tears left for you to cry. He sits with you in the silence, is patient when you get angry, frustrated, blame yourself and the world, even him, and he’s there. He stays. He doesn’t allow you to push him away this time.

The sun creeps up over the trees, cuts through the fluorescent hospital lighting and casts its golden glow on you, and James remembers.

He remembers all the time away from the rink, the beach, his parent’s summer house, road trips, theme parks, early mornings in his apartment, coffees in the car after practice. He remembers that there, once, had been more to your relationship than skating. It became habit, after a while. Skate, fight, train, skate, fight, train. It got tiring. It got old, and it drove a wedge between you both.

But he remembers how freely you once loved each other, the person you are, not the way you skate. Your soul, bright and luminous, off the ice. You’re so much more than a pair of skates and a beautiful routine. You’re ethereal all on your own.

You wake not long after, the pain medication worn off and reality starting to set in.

If you’re surprised to find James in your hospital bed with you, you don’t show it. You offer him a gentle smile. A kind smile. A hopeful smile. He kisses the crown of your head, nestles as close as your hip will allow. You make a grateful humming noise.

"I'll survive this."

James notes that you don't sound all that sure. But he knows you will. He squeezes you gently, "You will."

"And you'll be there? I know it's selfish of me to ask..."

"I'm not going anywhere. Promise." James' thumb pulls your lip from where it's worrying between your teeth, and you look so soft, so scared. So. Lovely.

You seem happy with that answer, cheek rubbing happily against his shoulder, "We'll work it out."

"We will."

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jj-one · 3 months

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FIRST TIME’S A CHARM.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: sports au, football jock!boyfriend!han jisung x cheerleader!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, light angst (if you squint), reader is so in love with jisung it makes everyone sick, reader is a virgin, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, protected sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc.), typical nervousness of first time sex, cherry popping, multiple orgasms, spitting, dirty talk words: 5.1k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Feelings of melancholy plagued your heart this morning. You miss him. You want to touch him, talk to him, breathe the same air as him. Your boyfriend Han was your world. He hasn’t replied to your usual ‘good morning’ text yet and the waiting game was slowly eating you up. You have to get ready for cheer practice since tomorrow is game day but you were hoping that your boyfriend could walk you to the gymnasium. You dread going to practice sometimes but Han would always find a way to lift your spirits and make your mood instantly better.

“You need to give him some space y/n.. you know he’s busy, we can just walk together it’ll be fine!” Karina attempts to snap you into a reality check.

She was your roommate and also on your cheer team, she’s been one of your closest friends since you transferred to this school a few months ago.

“But he always walks with me! I’ll just wait for him to reply, what if he texts me while we’re walking there and then he-“

“Jesus Christ y/n, you should hear yourself talk the way you go on and on about this boy! Don’t you think you’re a little too obsessed?” Karina retorts, “Let’s get a move on, we don’t need to be late to practice for the third time in a row!”

Grabbing your arm in the process, Karina heads out the door with you to get going. You wanted to whine and complain some more but you decided to let it go since you don’t want to annoy your friend with anymore talk of your boyfriend. You could talk about him all day long, you never get sick of being around him, he’s just always so busy with football and other things that it’s hard to see him sometimes. Since the gym you were practicing at was near the football field, you’d hope to eventually run into him later.

Your boyfriend did ultimately text you back but not until your cheer practice was over. You kept messing up the routine and Mrs. Park, your coach was getting irritated by your lack of coordination.

“Y/n, what’s with you today?! I know you can do way better than this!” She snaps in front of everyone, your whole team was looking at you and the embarrassment fully sunk in.

You didn’t have much to say other than a simple “I’m sorry” and “I’ll try harder”, it was your fault that you let your inner thoughts cloud your ability of performing. You gave yourself a couple minutes to recuperate and stretch to join the team again, you couldn’t let them down since the stunt you had to do needed to be executed perfectly.

After cheer practice you read the texts Han sent you:

‘Heyyy babe, so sorry for the late reply :( I’ve been practicing all morning and didn’t get a chance to check my phone!’

‘I just finished, wanna meet in a bit? I’m with Chan and Changbin rn’

You were now grinning ear to ear from his reply, you’ve been waiting all day to see him. It didn’t take long for you to respond back to him enthusiastically.

‘Yes! Where are you??’

‘Still on the field but at the bleachers, meet me there’

‘Ok, coming now!!’

‘See you in a few ;)’

With almost lightning speed you make a dash for the locker rooms and changed out of your cheer clothes to go find your boyfriend. Karina wanted to tag along since she secretly has a crush on Changbin but doesn’t quite want to admit it just yet. Making your way to the football field, you see some figures in the distance sitting on the bleachers; presuming to be your boyfriend and his two friends. You picked up your pace practically sprinting at this point to go hug your boyfriend who was still in mid-conversation with Chan and Changbin. You didn’t even acknowledge or say hi to either of them, only focusing on the man in front of you now. You’ve been craving to see him all day and finally being able to hug him made the sadness you felt this morning dissipate.

“How’s my pretty princess feeling today?” Han says, still having you wrapped tight in a bear hug. His fingers stroked your hair as he felt you against him, words couldn’t describe how happy you were in this moment.

“I’m okay now that I’m with you!” You exclaim, nuzzling your chin into his broad shoulder.

Everytime he hugged or held you, it felt like the warmest place you could be. Nothing compared to his embrace, it electrified you in so many ways that couldn’t be spoken into words.

“Ugh! Could you guys get a damn room already? I’m sick of seeing you act all lovey dovey, makes me depressed that I’m still single!” Changbin teases the both of you. You know he was only joking but it made you want to be even more of a nuisance.

“Then turn around and look the other way, we’re not going anywhere!” Han fires back, now bringing his face towards you to kiss him. He plants his lips on yours and gives you a soft kiss, delighting you with the taste of his minty flavored chapstick.

“Mmm… that flavor tastes good Hannie, could kiss your lips all day!” You go back in for another kiss, completely forgetting that Chan, Changbin, and Karina were right there watching this whole thing go down.

“Alright, enough!” Chan interrupts you and your boyfriends almost near make-out sesh with a reminder of previous plans. “Are we still going back to my place for movie night? I didn’t buy popcorn and snacks for no reason!”

“Ah shit, I totally forgot about movie night…” Han face palms from the lack of remembrance.

“Can I join?!” You chime in, hoping that Chan will allow you in the group so you can spend more time with Han.

“Could I come too?” Karina asks, sitting next to Chan trying her best not to make eye contact with Changbin.

“Yeah sure, the more the merrier I guess!” He shrugs his shoulders.

You were glad Chan let the both of you come along since you didn’t know him that well, you only talked to him on a few different occasions but each time he seemed pretty chill. He was the football quarterback and was loved by pretty much the entire university, he was practically the leader of the football team and looked after everyone. Your boyfriend was also a very popular guy and was well-liked by all his pupils, he was a really good defense and took his athletic skills seriously. You were so proud of your boyfriend and everything that he’s accomplished so far.

“Alright, let’s get going shall we? My dorms not that far from here, should only be a 10 minute walk!” Chan says while standing up.

Everyone gets up from the bleachers to start heading in the direction of the dorms and Han takes your hand in his.

“You cold babe?” Han asks while walking, he sees you shivering a bit from the sudden cool breeze of the wind.

You were wearing a short sleeve t-shirt which probably wasn’t the best idea but you were rushing this morning. You simply nod your head to his ask, you could feel the goosebumps rising on your delicate skin.

“Don’t worry, here you go darling.” Han quickly takes the letterman varsity jacket off his body to bring onto yours. The jacket weighs you down a bit and it was completely drowning you but you didn’t care.

“You look so adorable in my jacket babe, always look so cute wearing my things.” He compliments you while holding your hand tighter.

You could smell Han’s scent on the fabric, everything about him felt like home to you. You’ve been dating for 4 months now, you transferred to this new university thinking you wouldn’t make any friends at all. As soon as you became a cheerleader Han noticed you straight away, he asked a few of the girls about you but you were new so they didn’t know much. He wanted to get to know you more so he went in to shoot his shot and ended up being successful, now you’re both dating and are essentially the school’s power couple. The most popular jock dating the new pretty cheerleader was the perfect recipe to get everyone around the school talking.

“We’re here guys!” Chan says while coming to a stop in front of the dormitory.

He opens the door to lead the way for you all and Han has his arms wrapped behind you plastering small kisses to your cheek. You giggle as you walk inside to see more people sitting on the couch. It was some more members from the football team who joined for movie night but you and Han weren’t actually planning to watch movies with the rest of them.

“Let’s go somewhere else, yeah?” Han whispers in your ear, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You agree to his ask and Han tells everyone that you’ll both be back before the movie starts getting good. Chan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the fact you both casually go into his room, he adds one last piece of advice, “make sure to use protection guys!”

Han doesn’t comment back at that, only reacting with a chuckle and heading towards the bedroom.

Chan’s room was your typical early twenties, frat-boy style living quarters. Clothes spread all on the floor, a couple posters adorned the walls, and the bed was unmade with a few textbooks on top. It was everything you’d imagine it would be, nothing in the slightest bit romantic.

“Wow, what a lovely choice to make our grand escape!” You said sarcastically, looking around at the tornado of a room it was.

“Hey, mine is way worse and you don’t even complain!” Han retorts, throwing the textbooks off the bed.

“That’s because I clean your room every time I come over!”

You sat on the bed with Han beside you, he snaked his arm over to wrap you into another tight hug. You feel the hardness of his chest against you and the sounds of his heartbeat produced butterflies in your stomach. You’ve been waiting to be alone with your boyfriend all day and now that the time has come you can’t keep your lips off him. You brought your face closer to his and sealed his lips to yours, his short brown locks tickled your forehead in the process.

You’ve been thinking about the next big step in your relationship— sex. Sex was what built the foundation of (most) relationships, it only proved how much you love your partner deeply. You wanted to give Han your everything, you’ve never wanted to do something more in your life. As you slowly break away from the kiss, you make sincere eye contact with your boyfriend, his eyes shown nothing but endearment for you.

“So I’ve been thinking about stuff lately…” you trailed your eyes away for a second, not feeling so confident in yourself anymore.

“Thinking about what?” He asks attentively, his eyes were still glued onto you, you could feel the intensity of his stare.

You had either two options: tell him how you really feel and what you actually want or you can save this for another time. You went with the latter and chose to keep it to yourself.

“Never mind… I’ll tell you later maybe, or another time.”

This doesn’t sit too well with Han. He likes when you’re open with him, honesty has always been a huge thing for him and when you act reclusive towards him he gets worried.

“No babe, just tell me. I promise I won’t judge you— I never do! I just want you to feel comfortable and be able to share anything with me.” His hand rubbed your thigh gently which made you feel more at ease and much calmer.

“I think I’m ready to take the next step with you.”

“Next step?” Han replies with confusion, “You mean as in like getting married? I think we’re a bit too young for that right no-“

“No Ji, I meant like I’m ready to have sex!” You finally admit, the look on his face became utterly priceless.

“Oh— really? What made you decide that?” He wonders curiously.

He knew for a long time that he was ready to have sex with you but just never mentioned it until you gave him the green light. He’s never pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, make-out sessions with him would get super hot and heavy sometimes but that still didn’t stop him from not pushing your boundaries. He knew you were a virgin and that it would take time for you to make a decision as the relationship progresses.

“I just love you so fucking much Ji, I wanna give you my whole body, want you to be my first.” You bring your hand to his, moving it to your breasts for him to feel you.

His hand squeezes your boob gently, causing you to gasp at the light action. He cups his whole hand around it and juggles it in his palm, smiling at your beauty.

“You have the most perfect tits.” Han says in almost a whisper, still admiring your presence.

Both of his hands now playing with your boobs as he massages them through your t-shirt, you couldn’t help but go back and kiss his soft lips. The kiss grew more passionate as time went on, you couldn’t stop kissing those precious lips of his, you wanted your face attached to his 24/7. You got on top of him now, tangling your fingers through his luscious hair whilst your tongues glide against each other. He removed one of his hands from your breast to go grab your ass, squeezing your left cheek firmly.

“Lay on your back princess” Han says, instructing you as you lye back down on the bed. You aren’t sure what he has in mind but it can’t be anything innocent.

“What do you want to do to me?” You ask, pressing your thighs together to feel something.

“I want to make you feel really good…” He continues in a sultry tone, “I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby.”

His mouth goes back onto yours, kissing almost roughly this time. Something was taking over your boyfriend and it was turning you on incredibly. He plastered a few more wet kisses to your chin and neck, leaving trails of his glistening saliva all over you. Not a doubt was going through your mind, just undying love and devotion to your boyfriend.

“I love you so much y/n, you know that?” Han says reassuringly, you know he loves you but hearing it still made your heart flutter every time.

“I love you so much Hannie!” You probably loved him more than yourself at this point.

His hands roamed your half naked body once he rid you of your t-shirt and sports bra. His soft, tender touch was enough to drive you crazy and he’s barely done anything yet. You held your breath as his fingers danced across your skin, your brain was completely fuzzy and only filled with desire. You tugged at the end of his shirt so he could take it off and he obliged, pulling it from the top and lifting it over his head. You get a full clear view of body, that beautiful body of his, you wonder how a man can be shaped so gracefully. He had the most broad shoulders, chiselled abs and muscles, but his waist was so pretty and tiny. It didn’t make sense how one could be built such a way but he was perfect, his physique truly mesmerized you.

You go in to feel his muscles, his biceps were absolutely to die for, every time he flexed you swear you could hear your kitty purring down there. He was just so hot, you needed to taste each and every inch of him.

“Want you so bad…” you trace the lines of body, fully enamored by your gorgeous boyfriend.

“I’m all yours babe.”

Han lazily brung his hand to the waistband of your pants, fumbling with the button to take them off but was struggling a bit.

“Here, let me help you.” You guide him in the right direction and he successfully unbuttons them.

Once your pants are off he slides your underwear down past your knees, his face lights up at the sight beneath him. You were nervous but didn’t want to tell him that incase he stops, feeling a lump in your throat now forming.

“Let me know if you want me to stop at anytime.” You loved that he was always making sure you were 100% okay with everything he did.

You nod and let him continue doing his thing, he captures his lips with yours one more time before a hand creeps up your inner thigh. His fingers lightly brush your folds and you shudder from the sensitivity. He smirks into the kiss as he presses a single digit against it, gathering your slick nicely.

“Your pussy feels so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you darling.” Han says after parting from the kiss.

His finger glides between your wet folds, feeling your warm juices gush onto him. He makes a V shape with his fingers to spread you open now, getting a better look at your heat. He licks his lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of you. He inches his head closer to your core and spits on it, watching the saliva run down as he licks a long, slow stripe to your cunt.

His mouth becomes suctioned to your clit as he runs his tongue all over it, slobbering against you whilst holding your hips in place.

“Fuck! So good, so good, so good…” you couldn’t stop moaning, the pleasure was just hitting you all at once.

Your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head and your legs were shaking from Han’s insane pussy eating skills. You felt your chest cave in from all the intense pleasure and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, you were in for hell of a treat. One of his digits entered you, now fingerfucking you. You elicit another moan for him as his tongue picks up a quicker pace, his tongue flicks your nub viciously. His finger slips in and out slowly and adds another digit to make you gasp louder. The feeling of your boyfriend stretching you out for him was amazing, you felt your release coming by the second.

“I- I feel weird Ji..” you try to explain how you feel right now but you just can’t describe it. It felt as though you had to pee but you know you didn’t actually need to.

“It’s okay princess, it’s normal. Trust me, just let go. I promise you’ll feel so much better after baby.” He stopped what he was doing for a moment to encourage you.

His words made you instantly let go, you whimpered from the feeling of his mouth on your clit again. You rocked your hips forward to grind against him while he ate you out, playing with his hair and slightly pulling it once you felt yourself cumming. Your hips shook rapidly around him, his eye contact never broke off with you and it made you lose your mind. You mumble under your breath, trying your best to contain your orgasm but everything came crashing down violently. Han could taste your sweet essence on his tongue as he lapped up all your juices, not letting any of you go to waste. He kept himself buried between your shaky legs and pulled his fingers out, leaving you with an empty feeling.

“You ready for my cock babe?” He finally lifts his head up from your dripping cunt, his face fully soaked from the action he just performed.

“Yes, need you so bad Ji.. want you to pop my cherry.”

You looked at him with the most seductive eyes, he bit down his lip at what you just said. You know exactly how to make him feel the most special, he was special to you though, this whole moment meant everything to you.

“I’ll be gentle with you princess, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible for you.” He kisses your forehead and captures your lips in his.

He gets up momentarily to go find a condom in one of Chan’s drawers and quickly comes back. He undoes his pants to pull them off along with his boxers, opening the wrapper with his teeth and pulling the condom out to slide it on.

“I don’t usually like condoms,” Han explains “but since this is our first time I don’t want to scare you.”

You giggle at that comment, you don’t know the first thing about sex and all of this is so new to you. You’re just glad you have an experienced boyfriend that can help make this easier for you, it made you feel a lot less awkward.

“I guess I’ll have to get on birth control soon then?” You were willing to do anything for him at this point.

“It’s your body y/n, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You make your own choices.”

It was sweet how even right now he’s only thinking about how you feel, he really does care so much about you. Han repositioned himself to be between your legs again, his cock was now pressed along your folds. He gives you another kiss before asking one last time,

“You ready to do this?”

“Yes! Please hurry, I’m getting impatient!” You whine, wanting to finally feel what it’s like to take dick.

“Okay, okay, I’m just making sure you really want to do this!”

He rubs his cock against you, sliding it up and down to collect more of your wetness. You bite down on your lip, waiting for the real moment to transpire. His hand rests on the end of his cock, guiding it to your entrance, he prods your hole gently. A rush of pain inflicts your body from the feeling of just the tip stretching you, you could only close your eyes at the sensation.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you at all.” Han continues pushing himself in.

The more he inched inside you, the more painful it became. It felt as though your whole body was on fire, everything felt so strange to you. You endured the pain in hopes of it becoming better soon, you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend. You feel the size of his cock growing in you, the constant throbbing was making you dizzy. You held onto him tightly, not wanting to let ever go of him. You clench around him as he attempts to fully fit his entire cock but you wince at only half of him inside you.

“Fuck, you alright baby? Did I hurt you?” He studies you with concern, stopping immediately to gauge your body language.

“You’re so fucking tight, even though you’re soaking wet I can still barely fit my cock inside.”

Your face turns red as a tomato, you don’t know what to say and you’re getting too flustered.

“Awe, is my little princess feeling nervous? I told you it’s okay, I’ll be here with you every step of the way, I got you.”

He holds your hand in his, tentatively caressing the inside of your palm, he brings your hand up to kiss it and gave you a warm smile. He continues sliding more of his cock in and is eventually able to get most of himself settled. Your mouth is wide open once he begins slowly thrusting in you. The pain was starting to go away now, just slightly. You focus on the feeling of his length in you, you try to relax your muscles the best way you could. You feel so full, so stuffed, his cock fully immersed in your sweet cunt.

“You feel so good around me princess, just wanna fuck your tight pussy all night long..” he groans while picking up his pace, the discomfort comes back to you now, you wriggle around to make the burning sensation go away.

“Is it supposed to feel like this Ji?” You croak, trying your best to be good for him.

You know that Han would never judge you but you still felt insecure about your performance in the bedroom.

“It’s only going to hurt for a little bit, just keep thinking about me darling, think only thoughts of me.”

You can feel a knot in your stomach form now, his cock slamming into you deeply was making you see stars. You gnaw at his neck to bite down softly, you couldn’t hold in your emotions anymore. The pain was now fully gone again, the intense pleasure washing over you like a tsunami. You kept your eyes tightly shut to feel all of him, focusing on what he told you when he said to think only thoughts of him.

“Your cock feels good Ji, I love how feel inside me!” You cry out to him, arching your back against the bed.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, it all felt too good to be real. He increases his rhythm as he thrusts into you, fucking into your little virgin cunt harder. Your pussy twitches around his cock, you feel that need to pee like when he was eating you out.

“I- I think I’m gonna… cumming…” you could barely get a coherent sentence out. All you could do was continue digging your nails in his back and moan out his name.

“You gonna cum for me princess? Do it. Want us to cum together for our first time.” Han throws his head back as he keeps fucking you. He was bucking his hips in a sloppier motion now, indicating that he was getting close like you. It only took a few more pumps of his cock to get you to form a large ‘O’ with your mouth, your jaw stayed locked in place. Your walls contract around his thick cock and you gasped for air as you lose your breath.

“Ah, fuck y/n!” Han almost says with a growl, his chest feels heavy as he releases his load into the condom.

He continues thrusting slowly into you while gently massaging your breasts. You let go and feel your second orgasm approach, feeling waves of ecstasy throughout your whole body. You were both heavily panting, staring at each other with nothing but complete passion. Han collapses onto you, his sticky and sweaty body rested on yours. His cock was still buried in your cunt, you didn’t want this moment to ever be over.

“So how would you rate your first time?” Han asks while propping his head up, “on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I’d say a 100/10, I’ll remember this day forever.”

You snuggle up against him, completely forgetting that you had your first time with Han in Chan’s bedroom.

“Well… maybe it could’ve been better if we did this in our rooms.”

“I agree, but hey there’s always next time!” Han finally pulls out of you and notices tiny droplets of blood on the condom.

“Oh my god babe, I popped your cherry!”

You were shocked that even happened since you didn’t feel anything inside you tearing, guess it was a myth that you could feel your cherry pop. Han looked so stoked by this discovery and you wish you could engrain the look on his face in your brain. You just giggle at his actions and give him another chaste kiss, cuddling with him and forgetting the rest of the world around you.

“I think we should head back out soon, they’re probably thinking what the hell we’ve been doing in here for so long.” Han gets up from the bed to go and put his clothes back on.

“I hope we weren’t too loud!” You say, grabbing your clothes to get changed too.

“If they heard us don’t worry about it, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They’ll probably congratulate me by how much noise you were making!”

You blush once again by what he said, you can’t believe you just lost your virginity, you don’t feel any different physically but you feel way closer to your boyfriend than ever before. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have such a loving, healthy, and supportive relationship. Han Jisung really was the light of your life.

Coming out of Chan’s room felt the walk of shame. You couldn’t face any of his friends or Karina in the living room, they all instantly turned their heads to face you. Changbin started clapping loudly and everyone else followed suit after, you knew this was going to be embarrassing but this just felt like pure torture.

“Congratulations bro! It was about time you finally both got some!” Han’s friend/teammate Minho shouts.

Your biggest fear came true, everyone heard absolutely everything.

“Did you guys really have to fuck in my bed though? I just washed those sheets last week!” Chan exclaimed, giving him the evil eye.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell! Whatever happened in that room stays in that room.” Han brings his hand to his lips to make it look like he sealed them.

All the guys keep teasing him and you couldn’t stop blushing, maybe you should’ve waited to have sex in one of your dorms since Chan will probably never let him live this one down.

“You missed the movie anyway, might as well just leave and go for round 2!” Chan jokes.

“That actually doesn’t seem like a bad idea… thanks. Let’s go y/n!” Han links your arm around his and speed walks out the door.

Now that you were no longer a virgin, it didn’t feel all that odd to you as you thought it would be. It actually felt nice knowing you lost it to someone you love so much, someone you care so deeply out. It may not have been in the most romantic atmosphere which you’ve always pictured losing your virginity in a much better setting. However, you’ll cherish this special day with Han because even if it wasn’t the ideal scenery you had in mind, it was still a reminder that you had such a strong, beautiful connection with your lover.

#han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han smut #han jisung x female reader #skz x reader #han jisung fanfic #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han fluff #skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung fic #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung oneshot #skz fanfic #skz x female reader #stray kids oneshot

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kquil · 11 months

Text

JAMES POTTER | JOINT SCHEDULE

request. : Hey can you do some more ice hockey player James imagines? I love them sm! —@prongsbandit

sum. : you booked the university's ice rink to practice your routine for an upcoming competition but so did the university's ice hockey team, whose captain screwed up the timings

g. : fluff ; modern au ; ice hockey player james ; figure skater reader ; shy reader ; university au ; jock james potter ; supportive figure skating coach ; supportive hockey team

length : 1.6k

In preparation for an upcoming figure skating competition, you were dedicated to getting in as much practice as possible. Thankfully, you were able to book the university ice rink for two months in the lead up to the competition. Your regular practice sessions were every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday for five in the late afternoon until seven. It was a bit excessive but you wanted to win. Many of your friends view you as someone sweet and docile but also hard working and quite the perfectionist. What they don’t realise is how competitive you can be behind the scenes. Everytime you cancel plans, you usually excuse yourself with the ‘I’m busy’ reasoning that your close friends readily accept, believing that you were working through papers and research articles for uni classes when, in actuality, you were spending time in the rink.

Today, you had brought with you your portable stereo to go through the routine with the music over and over again, gradually perfecting the appearance of your more grandiose moves as well as the sequence of your steps on the ice. It felt good being at this stage of your development, the entirety of your routine has been choreographed already and had been revised by your coach, who suggested some minor changes but approved it overall — you knew what you were doing, it was just the case of perfecting things now, something you were talented at and even enjoyed.

The main focus for today’s session was the polishing of the big jumps and ambitious spins of your routine. It was a little tiresome and you don’t believe you’d be able to cover all of them for this session but you never really expected to in the first place. Your only saving grace was that you had some time to apply light makeup earlier in celebration for the new figure skating set you were gifted by your parents. It was an all black set that paired a sleek skort with a long sleeved turtle neck top that had lacing to decorate the open back and thumb holes in the sleeves as the hem reached half way up your palms. You liked feeling pretty in practices, it always helped to encourage your self-confidence so there was always a little spike in your performance. The praises of your supervising coach was all you needed to confirm this fact.

“Brilliant, my girl! Again!” Vera sang her high praises from the stands and helped you control the music whenever you wanted to repeat a particular part of the choreo. For this routine, you had settled for something more elegant and based the choreography around the ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ by Tchaikovsky. The soundtrack made you miss the time you did ballet until you were fifteen before eventually falling in love with figure skating. A lot of your routines tend to be based around the elegance of ballet in addition to the complicated turns, spins and jumps that encompassed figure skating; your coach, Vera, loved how you were able to combine both sports in such a seamless way.

The music kept playing even after you had repeated the skid spiral so you naturally flowed into rehearsing more of your choreo, allowing muscle memory and the music to guide you over the ice as you subconsciously waited for Vera to pause the music and ask you to repeat something that didn’t look quite right. Polishing up the routine was filled with more critiques than any stage of creating your final performance so your anticipation for Vera to pause the music, repeat a move and provide additional tips lingered in the back of your mind as you flawlessly spiralled into one of your most difficult spins — a one-handed beillman.

“Beautiful Beautiful!” Vera praised, clapping as you gradually spun out of the position before abandoning the routine and grinning widely to yourself, proud and giddy for finally nailing the transition and spin.

“Vera!” you shout across the ice and over the music, cheering with your fists raised to the air in victory, “I did it!” It was then when you realised that Vera’s clapping was accompanied with an entire audience of applause and your panicked eyes fell upon a grinning hockey player standing beside your coach, behind them was a team of hockey players, some whistling and whooping in between their applause.

As you tried to catch your breath and suppress your bashfulness, you gathered that Vera had neglected to reply to the soundtrack to discuss something with the hockey player, and so, it seems that the entire hockey team just saw a glimpse of your routine. Eventually, Vera paused the music and motioned you over, looking to discuss something.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you ask upon reaching the sidelines, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves as you avoided the hockey player’s eyes. He was dressed in most of his equipment, only missing his headgear, and was sporting the dopiest grin on his face. “It appears as though the university hockey team had booked the rink to practise for a match happening early next week, however, there was some miscommunication over the timings and schedules,” you furrow your brows as Vera explains the situation before shyly glancing up at the hockey player beside her, who had unruly dark curls and glimmering hazel eyes behind a pair of cute glasses. It seems your simple acknowledgement of him was enough to prompt his self introduction.

“I’m James,” he reaches out his gloved hand for you to shake, quickly taking it back to rip of his glove off before reaching to shake your hand once again, “James Potter, Captain of the Hockey team,” behind him the rest of the hockey players wave at you, some with friendly grins and others sporting a mischievous smirk as they regard their captain’s behaviour around you, “Vera explained that you were practising for a competition and also booked the rink in advance but since you got here early, we’ll put the decision to you,”

You raised a brow and tilted your head slightly, prompting him to continue, “make a decision on what?”

“On whether to kick us out and continue your practice or finish your practice early and allow us to have the rink for drills exercises and plays,” James finished, grinning at you with no malice and insinuating that he wouldn’t hold any ill-will over either outcome.

“Oh!” your cheeks heat up under his warm voice, amiable manner, pretty eyes and charming dimples and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment before eventually shaking your head and giving him your resolve, “I’d be happy to give you the rink, I’ve covered a lot of ground already so I don’t mind,” James’s smile reaches his eyes once more and he nods.

“You heard the lady boys, what do we say?” he shouts back to his team, his voice commanding attention and is as firm as his build, encouraging an ensemble of ‘thank you’s to sound from behind him, “Thank you very much,” James finishes and nods to his boys, signalling them to set up the rink and get ready for practice while you also take the time to shake off your nerves and walk off the ice, where James greets you once more.

“I hope you have a good and productive practice,” you wish him and offer a warm smile, your heart finally settled down to a semi-heightened beat. He’s really quite handsome…you think to yourself but quickly look away to, again, keep from staring too long.

“Thank you and thanks again for letting us have the rink,” James takes your hand and lifts your knuckles to his lips — an act of gratitude that has a dangerous heat creeping up your neck to occupy your cheeks once more, “you’re very beautiful on the ice, by the way. I’m sure you’ll smash it at the competition, your competitors don’t stand a chance,” the two of you share pleasantries and more smiles before you finally make your way to the locker rooms to change with a straighter back and a lighter heart.

What an encounter.

“She practises every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday from 5 to 7pm,” Vera says out of nowhere as she approaches James, who stares off to where you had disappeared.

“I’m sorry?”

A stone cold look crosses over Vera’s face, “avoid those times at all costs,” she warns, her russian accent suddenly thick and intimidating, “my student doesn’t need any distractions,” the statement makes James raise a brow in question, “her competition is on the 14th November, held in the city community rink, and it starts at noon, don’t be late,”

Suffice to say, James wasn’t late to your competition, in fact, he was early and he brought the entire hockey team with him to support you. You won second place but felt like a gold medalist when the hockey team hollered the loudest for you at the awarding ceremony and lifted you onto their shoulders with the congratulatory flowers James brought you in your arms and your silver medal around your neck. To return the favour, you attended their next hockey game and made sure to shout the loudest whenever their team scored and eventually when their team won the match.

“When do you think our captain’s finally gonna grow some balls and ask out his ice skating ballerina?” Sirius whispers to his taller brunette friend.

“Let them take their time,” Remus replies, the two staring as James throws his arm over your shoulders and you wrap your own around the back of his waist, “everyone already thinks their dating anyway so they’ll get it eventually,”

“Wait! So they’re not actually dating yet?” Peter asks with a surprised face as the other two laugh, “But I swear I saw them kissing by the locker rooms before the game earlier!”

a/n : i know nothing about ice skating or ice hockey but i tried my best! i'm sorry if this is not very realistic. i also hope that the request was fulfilled to a satisfactory standard despite the long wait, i'm really sorry for that by the way (┳Д┳) nevertheless, i tried my best and i hope this made you happy, darling, thank you for the cute request (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

navi.

taglist : @ghostgardn @fredweasleysjumper @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter #james potter fluff #ice hockey player james potter #hockey player james potter #james potter fanfiction #𐂂 : timestamp #james potter imagine #james potter fic #marauders #📝 : request

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stllmnstr · 5 months

Text

every fragile thing

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

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

word count: 12.3k

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

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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

or,

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

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up.

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

A beat passes.

Two.

Neither of you break eye contact.

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

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

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

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

Oh, you know him alright.

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

Including him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake just gives you a look.

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

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

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

Or not.

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

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

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

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

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

The guilt on your face says it all.

“No way.” Jake says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces.

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not until it all shattered in a single moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he never says your name once.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or something,” Jake agrees.

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you all go to school here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And a complete stranger to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last time, he let you fall.

You have no idea what he’ll do now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

…

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

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

“You absolute idiot.”

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

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

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

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

A beat of silence passes.

And then another.

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

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

And then he’s kissing you.

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! I—”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs.

…

outtake—five years ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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

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safetycar-restart · 2 years

Note

Performance coach au! 🛒

Oooo this has SO much potential oh my god.

My immediate thought is drivers realising they want to submit because they love hearing your orders? Like as their performance coach, you have to tell them what workouts to do and basically order them through their workout sessions and they’re so obsessed with listening to you.

And drivers (ahem charles) getting really upset if they fail to do what you tell them to? Like if they can’t lift the weight you set or doesn’t finish their run in the goal time. And they’re upset has nothing to do with their own fitness goals and everything to do with them not wanting to disappoint you.

Or them loving that you’re always with them?

Like for Pierre, I think he would adore having sometime who is ALWAYS on his side, someone who will always support him and help him and who he’s able to really be himself around and express himself.

It’s a similar thing for Mick as well. With all the pressure he’s under, he really just needs someone who will always have his back and who he knows will be there to pick him up every time he needs.

For Charles, trust would be so important. He feels like the entire of Ferrari is against him, but you aren’t. You’re the only one he can trust to always be on his side and that’s why he feels safe enough to submit for you.

I adore this idea. We should absolutely do an AU about this!!

#performance coach au #nsfw.#sub!charles #sub!pierre #sub!mick #pg #cl #ms #gn!reader #🛒

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maidragoste · 19 days

Text

Chapter Three: He ruined it

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One Chapter Two

A/N: I'm happy to bring you a new chapter of this series, sorry for the delay in publishing and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. Thank you for reading 🥰🥰💖💖

My inbox is open so I’m always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions 🤭💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes

The elevator ride takes less than a minute since the training rooms are below the floor of your floor, but Jacaerys could still feel the tension in the air. He doesn't know if it's because you're nervous like him about seeing who they'll have to face in a few days or if, like him, you're upset because Larys told you two to spend all your time in public close to each other. Jace doesn't understand the reason behind his uncle's instructions, first, he made you two hold hands at the parade and now it seemed as if he wanted you to become friends while training. Jace doesn't like this, he doesn't want to get attached to you. That would only make things more difficult in the arena, but when he complained his uncle reminded him that he had already promised that he would do whatever he told him. He had to do it if he wanted to return home to Lucerys and Joffrey.

When they both get out of the elevator they find a giant gym full of weapons and obstacle courses. It's not even ten o'clock, yet you two are the last to arrive. The rest of the tributes are gathered in a tense circle, each one has a piece of cloth attached to their shirt with the number of their respective district. While they give his number, Jacaerys in a quick assessment realizes that you two are the only ones who are dressed alike. Was it another way to appear like a united front to others?

Once you and Jacaerys join the circle the head trainer steps forward and introduces herself as Atala and then begins to explain the training schedule, how each position has an expert in the skill in question, that some positions teach tactics survival and other fighting techniques. She also warns that it is prohibited to perform combat exercises with another tribute and that if someone wants to practice with a partner, there are assistants.

“We don't have to be together all the time if you don't want to,” you whispered to him, once Atala finished reading the list of skills and gave them the freedom to start training.

“But Larys said”

“Larys isn't here,” you interrupted, making him frown. “He's not going to know if we don't follow what he tells us one hundred percent.”

“If you don't want to train with me just say it” he snapped, feeling annoyed although it made no sense because he should be happy that you don't want to train with him either after all Jacaerys wanted to avoid spending as much time with you as possible.

“I'm not the one who complained at breakfast,” you reminded him, making him blush and feel ashamed of himself for his attitude. If he weren't so impulsive he would have at least waited for you to go to your room before complaining to his uncle.

“I'm sorry about that,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay,” you shrugged, downplaying it, but even so, your district partner still felt like a fool because of his attitude. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let's tie some knots,” Jacaerys responded, thinking that his uncle had said not to attract attention so he was forbidden to take a bow at least until the private session with the gamemakers. Besides, Jace had no desire to be around the professional tributes, who had gone straight to the weapons that looked more deadly and handled them without difficulty, nor the trembling tributes who received their first class of knives or axes.

The stall is empty so the coach seems excited when the two approach. When he realizes that Jacaerys knows something about traps, he teaches them how to make a simple trap that would leave another tribute hanging from a tree by their leg. They practice for an hour until they both master the technique well and then move on to the camouflage station. Jacaerys notices that you seem more excited in this position as you mix mud, clay, and berry juice on your skin. It also seems easy for you to braid costumes out of vines and leaves. The coach for this position is excited about your work.

"I make the cakes" you blurt out of nowhere.

"The cakes?" He had been concentrating on watching Royce Baratheon swing a mace directly into the chest of a mannequin.

"Those from the bakery. I make the decorations"

Jacaerys remembers those cakes, which are on display in the shop window, with flowers and other pretty designs on the icing. Before he went to live with Uncle Larys he was never able to eat one of those but since they lived with him there was always cake for special occasions like birthdays and New Year's. Every time they went to buy the cake Joffrey and Lucerys always argued about which one looked the best before choosing which one to take. If he came home he didn't think he would be able to accompany them back to the bakery. He couldn't see your father and brothers in the face again. Nor could he see the disappointment in his brothers' eyes when they saw that the cakes were no longer as pretty as before.

"They're cute, but you won't be able to glaze someone to death," he hadn't meant to sound so scathing but thinking about your death, your family, and his siblings put him in a bad mood.

"You never know what might be in the arena what if…?"

"Let's continue with another position" he interrupts you, he wasn't in the mood for some joke.

"Okay, go ahead with whatever you want, I'll stay here a little longer. I'll catch up with you later" you responded.

The smile on your face had disappeared and Jacaerys felt a tightness in his stomach but he decided to ignore it, he just nodded and went to the fire-making station. He is so focused on the coach's instructions and getting the technique right that he doesn't even realize that he has spent so much time there until they announce that it is time for lunch. Jacaerys looks at you with the idea of telling you to have lunch together. He frowns when he sees that you are no longer alone but are talking to Jason Mallister, the thirteen-year-old boy from District 4. What were you doing? Larys said not to attract attention and you found yourself talking to one of the professional tributes, of course, that would attract attention.

Annoyed, Jacaerys went to the carts that had been brought with food and began to serve himself and then sat alone at one of the tables. Professional tributes gathered around a table. They were loud, unlike the rest they seemed carefree, as if they were not afraid.

A few minutes later you sit next to him. Jacaerys can't hold his curiosity for long so he asks you.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“Stop frowning, we're supposed to be friends,” you scold him in a whisper and he struggles to put on a friendlier face. “He reminds me of Joffrey,” you admit.

“My brother is nothing like him,” the brunette denies instantly. He wouldn't tell you but when you two saw the District 4 reaping he also thought about his brother when Jason appeared on screen. But he couldn't allow himself to see his brother in one of his opponents, that would only hurt him in the arena, so he instantly forced himself to push that thought away from him. The only thing in common between the two of them was that they are both thirteen years old, he just repeated to himself.

"I just showed Jason how I made my camouflage and I remembered when I tried to teach Joffrey how to frost a cookie." Jace must have made some funny face in his surprise because you were smiling again. "He made a mess, I don't know how he ended up with frosting on his hair and face, the only reason my mother didn't get mad is because Joffrey bought the cookies he ruined. If you ask me, he didn't ruin them, he just took artistic liberties" You said the last thing as if you were telling him a big secret, leaning towards him and putting your hand a few centimeters from your face, hiding it from the other tributes, as if you didn't want to they will try to read your lips. At your antics and the image of his younger brother covered in icing, Jacaerys can't help but laugh.

"I didn't know Joffrey spent so much time at the bakery."

"And with you", he added in his head. He couldn't help but wonder why his brother never told him. Although he shouldn't be surprised because at home there is always some bread or cookie from the bakery, but he always thought that the one who was going to buy it was Uncle Larys. He might have missed some things by spending so much time in the forest and the Hob with Baela.

"Your brother is addicted to sugar so he usually comes often after school to buy something. He says he deserves a treat after spending hours locked up in hell."

Jacaerys notices the affection with which you speak of his brother and he can't help but feel warm. He has the feeling that you have even more stories to tell about his brothers and he wants to hear them all.

"Yeah, that sounds like Joffrey," he agrees with a smile.

During the rest of the days of training, Jacaerys feels a whole mix of emotions fighting within him. You two continue training together in some positions such as setting up shelters, recognizing edible plants, and throwing knives and spears, but at some point, you always end up separated by your decision because you want to train with a partner so you look for one of the assistants. In those moments Jace can't help but distrust you because for a while he sees you fighting with the assistant but then the next time he sees you you are in the same section as the professionals, he never sees you talking to one of them but he still can't avoid feeling restless. On the other hand, he can't continue denying that something is forming between the two of you; it's impossible not to form a kind of friendship after sharing so many anecdotes during lunch. At first, you were the one who did most of the talking, telling him more about Joffrey's visits to the bakery, but then Jace wants to know about you and starts asking you more about you and your brothers. And before he least realizes it, he is also sharing his own stories. He tells you how Uncle Larys once made them believe his house was haunted only to make them stop wandering around at night because they wouldn't let him sleep. You laugh when he tells you how he once challenged a bear to fight in the woods to keep a beehive and how his father had never scolded him so much.

On the second day of training before you go to train with an assistant you whisper to Jacaerys that he has a shadow. When he turns to see Rue, the little girl from District 11 spying on them, you encourage him to talk to her but Jace refuses because he has no idea what to say to her and also because he is afraid of meeting her and she will remind him of his brothers or Baela's little sisters.

When the private sessions arrive with the gamemakers it is evident that both you and Jacaerys are nervous because neither of you tries to have a conversation while waiting your turn or even when the two of you are alone after Rue enters.

"Good luck," Jacaerys wishes you as he stands up when he is called. He couldn't tell you later because once a tribute finishes the session he has to go to his apartment "Try throwing the weights, impress them."

"Thank you" It is evident that you were not expecting his words because you keep looking at him impressed "Lucky for you too. Remember to shoot well" you smile at him.

He nods and starts walking towards the door.

He ruined it. What the hell was he thinking? No, he didn't think about it. He just let his anger get the best of him, he was outraged that the guards had stopped paying attention to him after he missed his first shot, he was furious that he could die within a few days and they wouldn't deign to watch his entire performance, so he took the arrow and shot at the gamemakers' table. Of course, he didn't shoot any of them, his arrow hit right where he wanted it, in the apple that the pig had in its mouth. When all eyes were on him he sarcastically thanked them for their time while bowing. He didn't wait to be fired, he stormed out of the training room still feeling his blood boil. Only when he was alone in the elevator did he feel the weight of what he did, he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest and his throat was burning. He ruined it. He hadn't tried to kill any of the gamemakers but maybe someone would think that. He was sure he must be the first tribute to do something like that. He lost any chance he had of winning the games. But what scares him the most is that because of his attitude, they will now punish his brothers. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them because of him.

When the elevator doors opened, tears had already begun to roll down Jacaerys's cheeks. He ignored the questions from Effie, who was waiting for him in the hallway, and locked himself straight into his room. It didn't take long for knocks to sound on his door and the woman's voice asking him to come out but he didn't move from the bed. When silence came he thought that he had finally given up and they would leave him alone. But minutes later he heard the cold voice of his uncle:

"Jacaerys, open the door. Stop acting like a child."

Jacaerys was about to ignore him but then he realized that the only one who could help him protect his brothers was his uncle. So he took courage and got out of his pile of blankets. He unlatched the door and nervously opened the door. For a moment he thought he saw something different in his uncle's eyes. He couldn't figure out exactly what but that only made him more nervous. Without saying anything he went to sit on the edge of the bed while he watched Larys enter and close the door again. Surprising him, did his uncle think that he would try to escape in the middle of the conversation?

Larys took the chair that was at the desk placed it in front of the bed and then sat down.

"I ruined it," said Jacaerys, his voice breaking when he saw that his uncle did not seem willing to start the conversation. "They are going to punish Luke and Joff because of me." The teenager's desperation was clear by how he tugged at his curls as he spoke."You have to do something, uncle, please. It's my fault, let them punish me."

"What did you do?" the victor demanded to know.

Then Jace told him everything, how the gamemakers were drunk and how after he missed his first shot they stopped paying attention to him, missing the circuit he made and how he hit the center in the rest of his shots, that he didn't think about his actions, that he got carried away with anger and shot at the apple that was in the mouth of the pig that the gamemakers were about to eat, gaining their attention again and how he left the training room without waiting to be fired but not before thanking them sarcastically for their attention. As Jacaerys continued speaking Larys's hand turned white from the strength with which he gripped his staff.

"I told you that you won't attract attention" his uncle's biting tone only made Jacaerys' discomfort increase and he couldn't help but take one of the blankets again and wrap himself in it. It's not like he expected Larys to comfort him but he also shouldn't have been surprised that the first thing he did was scold him. "But you can rest assured, they're not going to punish your brothers." There was that strange look in his eyes again.

"Are you sure?" The uncertainty in his voice was clear, he wanted to trust his uncle but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that Larys would tell him any lie as long as he kept concentrating on the games.

"If they are going to punish Lucerys and Joffrey, they would have to tell what you did in the entertainment center so that it has some effect on the districts, but they won't because it's secret," Larys explained with a little more patience. "The only one you hurt with your actions it's you"

Upon hearing that nothing would happen to his brothers, Jacaerys felt that part of his discomfort disappeared. He still had to worry because surely the gamemakers would now make his life miserable in the arena but at least he knew that his brothers would be safe.

"I know, the gamemakers will make my life miserable in the arena" he stated "And today they will give me the worst score so I won't have any sponsors" he sighed thinking that now it would be even more difficult for him to survive in the arena without sponsors, the food wouldn't be a big problem because he knew how to hunt but if he got hurt then he would need medicine.

"Don't worry about the sponsors, I'll take care of that," Larys promises and this time Jacaerys doesn't doubt his uncle because he looks too confident. "Well, it's done, it's not something we can change. Stop getting depressed and let's go have dinner before they give the scores."

During dinner, Jace barely joins the conversation and feels your worried gaze the entire time. It seems that Effy told you about the state he arrived in after his private session.

In the middle of dinner, Effy can't stand his curiosity anymore so he asks them both how it went. Jacaerys wasn't going to say anything until he heard you speak.

"I don't think I impressed them, some paid attention to me but others were more focused on whatever was on the table," you said resignedly.

"It's my fault. I'm sorry" he apologized, feeling guilty because apparently he had also harmed your private session.

"How is it your fault?" Cinna asked curiously.

"I shot them an arrow," Jace replied.

At first, he ignored Effy's indignation and the rest of the team's questions, focusing more on your reaction. You still looked at him with concern. He was relieved to not see you angry. The truth is, he couldn't blame you if you got angry with him after all his act had attracted the attention of the gamemakers when it was essential for you to have a better score.

"I actually shot an arrow at the pig's apple they were about to eat. They were drunk and I got angry because they weren't paying attention to me."

"And what did they tell you?" You asked anxiously and looked at the doors as if you were expecting that at any moment the peace officers would come in to look for him.

"I don't know. I left"

"Did you leave without permission?" Effie asked to see if she understood correctly.

"I gave it to myself" Jace replied and a laugh escaped your mouth, you quickly stifled it with your hand before Effie's gaze. Jacaerys was pleased to see the worry disappear from your face.

"Larys, aren't you going to say anything about it?" Effie questioned evidently expecting the victor to side with her and scold them.

"It's done, Effie. There's nothing we can do," he responded boredly as he buttered a piece of bread.

"What was their face?" you asked, looking at him curiously.

"They seemed terrified. A man stumbled backward and fell into a punch bowl." At the time Jacaerys had been so angry that he couldn't enjoy the watchman making a fool of himself but now he remembered it with fun.

Everyone laughed, except for Effie but she seemed to hold back a smile so Jace didn't take it the wrong way.

“Oh, I would have loved to see that,” you said with a smile. If Jacaerys hadn't been so focused on you then he would have noticed that his uncle seemed to be studying the two of you.

Once everyone finishes dinner they go to sit in the living room to watch the scores announced on television. How every year a photo of the tribute appears while Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith announce the score. What is striking with the group of professionals is that this year not everyone has a score between eight and ten like previous years, but the boy from District 4 gets a seven. The same score that Rue gets, Jace can't help but wonder how she managed to get that score. But any thoughts of the little girl from District 11 disappear and are replaced by euphoria when he hears Caesar announce his score. An eleven.

Applause and congratulations filled the room. Jacaerys smiles until he realizes that his uncle is quiet and doesn't look as excited as the rest about his eleven. He starts to feel the anxiety in his body and he wants to ask his uncle what the problem is but he doesn't want to have this conversation in front of everyone.

“Good” is the only thing Larys says after they also announce your eight. And Jace feels stupid for worrying so much, surely his uncle didn't say anything before because he was still hanging on to your score after all he wasn't the only tribute Larys had in charge. “You should go to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow” he ordered them while motioning to the avox to bring him more wine.

You and Jacaerys say goodbye to the entire team and head toward the hallway where your rooms are.

“Tell me, what does it feel like to break the bad streak of twelve and go down in history?” you said while leaning on your door.

“You're exaggerating,” Jace said, trying to sound exasperated by rolling his eyes, but there was no annoyance in his tone.

“I'm not,” you shook your head, smiling. You just beat the score of the professionals, I think it's impressive” you said while crossing your arms. “Surely the entire Capitol is talking about you and you are going to monopolize all my sponsors.”

Your last words brought Jace back to his senses. You two were in a competition and his live were at stake. He couldn't keep joking with you. He should be focused on making a good impression on Caesar and the people at the Capitol tomorrow.

“We should go to sleep,” he said abruptly, resting his hand on the handle of his door, trying not to feel guilty as he saw how the spark in your eyes seemed to go out at his tone. “Have a good night,” he didn’t even wait for you to respond before walking into his room and closing the door. His father would be disappointed in his treatment of you.

a/n: I'm grieving because I had to delete the scene I had with Larys and Sea Dragon bc if I left it, then there were going to be things in Cathing Fire that didn't make sense 😫

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as I always say the comments and reblogs are very appreciated 🥰

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palajae · 7 months

Text

on my mind.

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE… figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love.? | WC... 0.6k | “please, let me know what’s wrong.”

you don’t care that niki spends a lot more time with his girlfriend.

you don’t care that all of your fans are in denial and still ship the two of you together.

you don’t care that haerin posts even more of her and niki online in response to said fans.

what you do care about is the change. the change in your practices, your dynamic, your relationship with niki.

you can’t just hug him whenever you want. you can’t borrow any of his clothes when you forget your own. you can’t be truly yourself around him anymore, constantly holding yourself back.

you knew your relationship wasn’t exactly normal, but it worked. it’s what gave you guys years of success and what you thought would last.

but you miss his playful pranks, his sweet hugs, and most of all, the look of pure affection in his eyes. it’s not that he wouldn’t, that he didn’t want to. niki would do anything you asked in a heartbeat. but you knew with his girlfriend and being in a relationship, it couldn’t be the same.

you missed your friend. both on and off the ice.

so much to the point where you actually stalked the two of you online. for the first time, you let outside influence get to you.

you were surprised by the amount of support for the two of you (and the most random ship names and edits).

all the photos, videos of your performances, and the old comments niki used to post on your posted photos— always borderline romantic but something you two always brushed off as platonic—it all came back.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two of you were madly in love as well.

but you did. and the two of you probably never would be.

so you call it a day and make a promise to never look up your name with his again.

you surely kept that promise, until the next morning pre-practice you couldn’t help but see your phone blow up.

all the links and posts people were tagging you in didn’t help.

even worse was seeing articles online stating that nishimura riki was reportedly leaving you to partner up with his current girlfriend, kang haerin.

your coach greets you with a smile, clapping her hands. “let’s get to work! where’s niki?”

you shrug, right as you hear scuffling onto the ice.

“sorry i’m late,” niki’s breathless voice makes you swallow. “lost track of the time.”

you (clearly) already knew what he was doing and who he was with.

still, you avoid his gaze. during warm up you barely speak to him, and of course he notes it.

after an awkward and silent practice, your coach leaves the two of you alone. almost like she knew there was something going on with the tension between you.

after every performance—most practices even—niki would hug you and press a kiss to your temple. it was a habit, a good luck charm and a warm goodbye until the next day.

but this time you start to leave before he even gets the chance to. niki catches up to you, taking your hand.

“hey, what’s going on?” you dislike how concerned he sounds.

“i don’t know, shouldn’t you know?” you coolly respond to your partner.

“i don’t. could you please tell me dear?”

you ignore him—his term of affection was not going to work on you this time.

niki was so stubborn. and so were you. ever since the first day you guys were assigned partners and were obviously not happy, he was stubborn. it took a long time to get the both of you to warm up to each other.

so he takes your other hand, grip tight so you’re forced to face him.

he calls out your name. “please, let me know what’s wrong.”

you sigh. why was seeing him everyday, always having to act like this, so tiring now?

you let go of his hands, looking down at the ice as your blade scrapes up bits and pieces.

“niki, we need to talk.”

a/n ▸ i did not expect this much love and support on this miniseries so thank you guys 😭😭insert are you ready for this in wendy’s voice during zimzalabim intro

part 2/4 | previous. | next.

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kookies2000 · 1 month

Text

TADC Actor AU

An AU where the characters are actors, Roger Rabbit style. We had fun in the Bunny Doll Burrow.

Characters list

Pomni 📖

A quiet girl who writes books in her free time. She started her career on TV in Japan, where she was born. She was under contract to do commercials and modeling until she moved to the USA to study accounting. She meets Caine when he opens an account with her. Thanks to him, she gets into show business again in a much healthier manner. Helping in commercials again and smaller roles in films. After she and Caine get married, he helps her get her first major role as the Jester in The Amazing Digital Circus series.

Caine ⭐️

Was born into show business. Literally, his mom went into labor in the middle of a circus act, and she had to birth him inside the pool behind the circus tent. His family owns a circus in Vegas and is known as the most glamorous family in Nevada. Because of this, he started as a child star and learned how to maintain a healthy work environment for performers thanks to his family. His family hired Bubble to be his agent when Caine turned 18. Because of his impressive record in show business, bright and happy personality, he is a well-known A tier actor. He agreed to play the ringmaster in TADC as long as his wife, Pomni, can have a role.

Ragatha 🎀

Super kind and sweet. Started show business in college with her best friend Kaufmo. The two were close and did auditions together. She is mostly known for smaller films that are very artsy. Those 3 hour long films that have a hidden meaning? Yeah, she likes doing those kinds of films. Art runs in her vains, and she doesn't care much about how much money she gains. As long as she has enough to get by in life and does what she enjoys, she is happy. She does modeling thanks to Kaufmo, acting like a part-time agent for her. One day, Kaufmo calls her up about a role he's auditioning for in TADC and convinces her to audition. At the auditions, she meets a bunny who is also auditioning for the role Kaufmo is auditioning for. She gets the role, and so does Kaufmo. Until one rainy day, they get into a car crash, causing Kaufmos death.

Jax 🐰

A ball of fluff with an ego. He is well loved by many actors and others in the show business. He helps out mostly backstage as an understudy on Broadway, stunt double, and a vocal and actor coach. He helped and taught famous actors like Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel, Rocky from Lackadaisy, and N from Murder Drones. His students describe him as a fun, whacky, and kind guy. He does impressions, too. He substituted for Angel Dust's voice in the song Addiction when he was sick. And he substituted other lines for other stars when they couldn't. Like when Rocky was recovering from vocal surgery, Jax took over and did the monologue Rocky does while he throws dynamite. Jax auditioned to be the bully in TADC and met a kind doll. But he didn't get the part that day. Until a month later, he gets a call that they are recasting, and he got the part. Tadc will be his first major role in his career, and he's beyond excited to be a part of it.

Gangel 🎭

A steamer and a theater kid since middle school. She streams video games, reactions, and acting/singing tips. Her goal is to get to 1 million followers on her platforms and have fun. She was bullied as a kid and just wants to make others happy. She gets help from her fiancé Zooble in her streams. She loves posting everything she does and gets over excited by everything. Her favorite things to react to are anime shows, and she loves video games. One day, she hears about the auditions for TADC and rushes Zooble to audition with her. Zoobel refuses to audition and just takes Gangel. Gangel gets a part, and she streams it right away. She has trouble keeping secrets, by the way. She'll most likely post about anything by accident.

Zooble 🔺️

Tattoo artist and owns her own shop. She was never interested in acting or singing. They were always bullied for looking different than most toons. Very quiet, camera shy, and keeps to themselves. Until someone makes fun of Gangel. They are super supportive of their fiancé and help Gangel whenever they can. They aren't afraid to go internet warrior mode if they see someone picking on Gangel. One day, Gangel begs them to take her to the auditions for TADC. At the studio, the ones in charge automatically take a liking to Zoobles unique look. Mentioning how it matches the circus theme. They wanted to create a role just for them, but Zooble tried to reject the offer. Until Gangel convinces them.

Kinger ♟️

Both a director and actor with his wife Queenie. He is a family man and makes some of the best movies. He loves musicals and helps with soundtracks. He started doing show business in his mid twenties when he found a talent in storytelling and started making scripts. Step by step, he became a director and actor. He didn't really audition for TADC. They called him up if he could help write the show, and he just somehow ended up in the show when they couldn't find a good fit for the role of Loony Man.

Bubbel 🫧

Part time agent, part time fashion designer and full time drag queen. Enough said.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #jax x ragatha #ragatha x jax #pomni x caine #caine x pomni #gangel x Zooble #zoobel x gangel #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #actor au

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m4sonn · 1 month

Text

✧*̥˚ The outsiders Modern AU Headcanons *̥˚✧

- Credits to @stevelovbot on Tumblr for the inspo for this post! And also credits to my friend @peachyponyboyy who I collaborate with for these!! :3

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Ponyboy

• Is a big fan of the Simpsons and can quote almost any episode word by word.

• Says that The Godfather is his favorite movie ever but it’s actually Mamma Mia. He secretly loves musicals.

• Is the only one with a Tumblr account and he’s pretty active in there.

• Definitely writes fan fiction or character studies in AO3.

•The only person that knows about that and gets to read them is Johnny.

• His pfp always matches Johnny’s in any social media platform.

• When he feels annoyed/pissed by his brothers, he likes signing them up for random ass newsletters and whatnot, making sure they get spammed constantly.

• He loves digital books and owns a Kindle but he feels like nothing compares to real books.

• His bi awakening was watching hunger games with dally and seeing peeta, made things worse when he saw the fnaf movie, he’s just a wh0re for josh hutcherson. (He would’ve made the whistle baby edit /j 😣😣🔥🔥)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sodapop

• Is the only one who can actually use TikTok and he’s pretty popular. He loves doing trends with the gang, probably forcing them to do the cinnamon challenge. (they agree bc they're all stupid)

• Loves avocados a lot and gets teased for posting pictures of his meals.

• His favorite game is Assassins Creed but isn’t a big fan of the community and fandom around the game. He just wants to play it and have fun.

•Facetimes the rest of the group whenever he wants, specially Ponyboy and Darry.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Darry

•He’s the owner of the only Netflix and/or any other streaming accounts of the group and is the one who pays for it. The rest of the gang add their own profiles and watch everything they want. (Or they share one account, there is no inbetween)

• Likes to keep up with the news and current affairs, so he follows a lot of reporters and activists on Twitter and Facebook. He’s subscribed to lots of newsletters for sure.

• Was the biggest football star of his school and got a scholarship thanks to it. He went to college but had to stop playing football eventually due to a freak accident on the field. However, this didn’t sadden him, since he got his diploma and works in things related to football anyways, he works as a coach for the local youth football team.

• His phone password is Ponyboy and soda’s birthdays mixed together.

• He is a big fan of No Doubt, when he found out that they were performing at Coachella, he absolutely lost it and started saving for a ticket immediately. When he went and saw them in the front row he cried, absolutely WEEPED.

• Constant listener of destiny’s child and connects with survivor on a personal level and he’s not scared to admit, you’ll sometimes hear him singing it while he’s doing stuff around the house while listening to music

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dally

•Has been blocked by multiple celebrities on Twitter AND instagram, on various occasions.

•Is a very big fan of The Hunger Games and one of his favorite characters is Peeta.

•Makes sure to be the first one to text Johnny on his birthday, even if they’re standing next to each other.

•Loves crime/serial killer podcasts and has good knowledge about these topics.

•Hates going to the dentist. There is a very embarrassing video of him being out of it after getting one of his wisdom teeth removed that Johnny recorded (Dally forced Johnny to take him since he was scared).

•Is always listening to music and doesn’t like sharing his earphones unless it’s Johnny.

•Has practiced a lot of sports during his life and his favorite one so far is boxing.

•Got drunk one New Year’s Eve and confessed that Darry was like the brother he wished he had had, and that his New Years Resolution was to make it up to Darry (He never did, since he had forgotten). and nobody has ever let him live it down.

•Secret fanboy of the neighborhood, one time he thought nobody was home and started singing daddy issues at the top of his lungs, two-bit has it on video and never lets him hear the end of it about it.

• Still enjoys stealing and robbing old ladies and young children and still enjoys annoying random pretty girls on the street (so basically still and ahole)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Johnny

• Wears denim overalls with cute sweaters and loves jackets with lots of pockets.

• Loves spicy food and is the only one in the group who can actually eat it without any problem.

• Has always wanted a puppy or any kind of pet but his situation at home always made it impossible. Because of this, Pony gifted him a goldfish one Christmas and they set the fish tank at the Curtis’ so Johnny could visit it as much as he wanted without risking getting his parents angry.

• He gets really attached to that fish pretty fast and treasures the gesture behind it. Pony and him name is Frost.

• Pony and him use Twitter DM’s just to send memes to each other and store them.

• He has a private Twitter account that only Pony gets to follow.

• Can speak Spanish and French.

•Owns a leather jacket that had been Dally’s a couple of years ago and takes care of it as if it was made of gold.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Two-Bit

• He’s the reason why Darry had to get a Disney+ account.

• Knows all the songs from Frozen I.

• Wanted to have a mouse as a pet (since…mickey mouse, duh.) for a while but Darry refused.

• He doesn’t admit it, but he loves sweet drinks made of fruits and cocktails more than beer.

• His socks never match and they all have at least one hole in them.

• Is the one that gets the most excited about Christmas. He’s not particularly religious but he loves the decorations, and the lights, and the whole mood in general. He’s the one that always makes sure the rest of the boys have presents, even if it’s something small.

• His first time going to disney world he bawled his eyes out, like full on mental breakdown inside the park, Ponyboy and Sodapop saved up all their birthday money, allowance, and paycheck money for about a year and a half to buy the tickets. (they wanted to get a fast pass and like the entire deluxe trip for him, that's why it took so long.) Ponyboy was SO embarrassed from two-bits crying, “You’re 22, Stop. Crying. Over. Mickey.” but still was happy for him.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Steve

• He tells everyone his top artist is Limp Bizkit but it's actually Queen, his top song was good old fashioned lover boy.

• Wakes up early to watch the F1 races and has never missed a season of Top Gear since he was little. His favorite was Hamilton, but ever since he saw that race with verstappen vs hamilton, his opinions have changed…

• He’s the best at playing video games, and he especially likes horror ones like Resident Evil. (absolute wh0re for Leon Kennedy, i am too tho so no shame)

• Sodapop and him are always playing online together and they sometimes let Ponyboy join them. Him and Sodapop gave ponyboy an unplugged controller once and said it was wireless (for the shitz and giggles and to see how long it took for him to notice), he realized half way through the game and told Darry who then yelled at them for 5 minutes.

• Doesn’t like TikTok and is always going about how Vine was just much better. (He’s stuck in 2014..)

• Gets angry when his texts go unanswered in the group chat (they do it on purpose since they know it pisses him off.)

• He listens to cotton eye joe on repeat, change my mind.

141 notes · View notes

yyunari · 7 months

Text

ANTON 01. 🐇﹕ꕤ﹔ FALLING BEHIND

Growing up rather shy, Anton found himself falling behind in the love department. Perhaps all it would take was joining the Glee Club for him to finally make progress in his love life.

⌇＃GENRE ◠﹒glee au + fluff + angst + love at first sight + anton is down bad LMAO＃PAIRING ◠﹒anton lee x fem! reader ＃WARNINGS ◠﹒none?

Anton stared at the white heart imprinted onto his latte. His face was emotionless but if you looked close enough, perhaps you could see the intrigue swirling in his eyes.

Some people would say it’s just a random design. But to Anton, it sort of felt like more than that. It felt like a sign from the universe that love would slap him in the face soon enough.

But how silly was that? He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but hope. After all 18 years of his life with no romantic interactions whatsoever, he felt that he was falling behind. To him, it was upsetting. All his friends had partners at least once in their lives before, so what was wrong with him? What was it about Anton that was so undesirable that he couldn’t get a girlfriend for the life of him?

As Anton stirred the ivory tint of the drink, he frowned. Perhaps he was never meant to be loved. Perhaps his shyness was an indicator that he would never find love.

The more that he thought about it the white foam swirled around the cup until it became to unrecognizable and blended into one large mess.

He then looked up to the man in front of him with a judging expression, and scoffed.

“You want me to what?”

“Join the Glee Club, Anton.” Mr. Jeon pleaded the boy. “We need more guys, and you have a really nice voice.”

The idea made him laugh a bit. Anton? Apart of the Glee Club? Mr. Jeon wanted him to do show choir? He was the quarterback of the football team. If he joined a club that no one respected, especially for guys like him, he would have even lower a chance of getting a girlfriend. He would probably even be shunned by his own teammates.

Besides, performing was a little too much for him. Of course he enjoyed singing, that’s why Mr. Jeon found out he could sing in the first place (he had overheard Anton singing to himself in the shower after football practice). But he could never see himself performing on stage for people to see. Being on the football team gave him some unwanted spotlight, but most of the time he was wearing his football gear so people couldn’t exactly see his face most of the time. If he were to be performing, he would have to dress up and have bright lights shining down on him.

It made him too nauseous to think about.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jeon, but I don’t think I would be able to…” Anton started. “With football and everything.”

Mr. Jeon handed him a piece of paper. “Don’t worry, I took the liberty of making sure rehearsals didn’t clash with your football practices. I also asked your coach if it was alright that I scouted you, and he gave me the green light.”

The man was right. Every rehearsal from then until the end of the year was perfectly planned so that he would have enough time to do both. It was quite scary, actually. Perhaps Mr. Jeon was scarier than he had let on.

“I don’t want to force you to do it if you really don’t want to,” Mr Jeon continued. “But please think about it. We have a lot of fun in rehearsals and I think you would get along with everyone! I know you love singing, and I think Glee would really help you showcase your abilities.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think people would see me the same way if I joined a club like Glee.” Anton wasn’t one to lie, and he wasn’t sure if the teacher was aware of how the general student population viewed Glee.

Mr. Jeon chuckled at what he said. “I know that Glee isn’t generally seen in a positive light to you guys, but I don’t think that should matter.” “What do you mean?” Anton asked, curious to what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you come to our next rehearsal?” Mr Jeon said. “When you see these kids sing, I think you’ll change your mind.”

Anton didn’t doubt that they were talented, but he wasn’t sure how seeing them sing could make him change his mind. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you detention if you don’t.”

What Anton forgot was that at the end of the day, Mr. Jeon still had a position of power over him.

Room 201.

Anton stared at the instructions that Mr. Jeon had sent to him, and sighed. He really didn’t want to watch Glee practice. However, his need to not get detention was much higher. It would put a stain on his perfect record, and he didn’t need that.

Begrudgingly, he begun to make his way towards the room. The time read 3:25 which gave him 5 minutes to get to the room before he was late.

Anton discreetly walked over to Room 201 while avoiding the stares of his teammates, as he knew they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Perhaps he cared a little too much of what the people around him thought.

But with his shy persona, he really didn’t want to be shunned from his friends. He didn’t want girls to judge him. He had enough time talking to people as it was, he didn’t need that extra judgement.

Anton didn’t care about being popular or having a lot of friends. He just wanted to have people by his side.

As he neared the Glee room, he contemplated on just turning back and taking the detention. After all, one infraction on his record couldn’t be too bad right? Especially after so long of getting perfect grades and perfect attendance, as well as his status of the quarterback. Colleges would be able to look past one measly detention.

He really didn’t want to go there.

“Kiss today, goodbye. The sweetness and the sorrow.”

…

What was that voice?

Who was it?

“Wish me luck the same to you.”

Once Anton was by the door, he could hear the voice more clearly.

“But I won’t regret, what I did for love. What I did for love.”

He peered through the glass to see just who was singing, and his jaw dropped.

“Look my eyes are dry”

Y/N L/N.

He had always heard that name uttered throughout the hallways and ridiculed by his football teammates. Oftentimes, people would describe her as annoying, stuck up, and ugly. Girls would laugh at her put together appearance and guys would make fun of her body shape. Although Anton never saw anything inherently wrong with the girl, the entire student body was under the impression was that she was the devil.

“The gift was ours to borrow.”

One thing that everyone knew about Y/N, and was a fact even she would agree upon, was that the girl was a born performer. She made it abundantly clear that her dreams were to become a Broadway performer, and that she would stop at nothing to reach that goal.

There was one occasion during French class that he shared with her that Y/N got into an argument with the teacher because she wanted to leave for an audition, and the teacher didn’t let her. In the end, Y/N ended up storming out of the classroom anyways.

At the time, Anton thought it amusing.

“Oh it’s as if we always knew, and I won’t forget.”

Anton had read once on Y/N’s blog that she was immediately trained to sing from the moment she was born and put into acting classes. So he knew that she had talent.

“What I did for love, what I did for love.”

But as Anton stared at Y/N, who stood alone practicing in the empty rehearsal room, he felt something ignite inside him.

Despite knowing that the girl had the talent, he never actually saw her singing. She wasn’t just good at singing in the way that people were usually good at singing.

Y/N’s voice could only be described as one dipped in honey. It was too sweet to be real, and Anton even pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Gone, love is never gone.”

It was weird. Before that point, Y/N was never someone he would think about. In fact, she only ever crossed his mind if she was forced there. Even if she had passed by him in the hallways, he would barely give her a second glance.

Seeing her in such a state, with the light perfectly reflecting off of the windows and casting an angelic aura onto her face, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“As we travel on, love’s what we’ll remember.”

Something that Anton was sure of, once seeing Y/N in her true element, was that Y/N L/N wasn’t just a born performer.

She was born to be a star.

He couldn’t help but wonder, maybe one day he could have that same level of confidence that Y/N had.

The way she carried herself with such grace and assertiveness attracted him. Anton was the complete opposite. He was shy, lanky, and often slouched down on himself.

But Y/N wasn’t like that. She knew her worth, and didn’t back down from anything.

Anton continued to listen to Y/N sing her song, with stars in his eyes and his mouth left slightly agape.

He wasn’t sure of the feeling that he felt in his heart, but he did know one thing.

Anton wanted to be apart of Y/N’s life. He wanted to hear her angelic voice, and see her beautiful face everyday. He wanted to be apart of her world because he found it quite wonderful. A girl shunned by the entire school, often discredited and regarded as undesirable, who was made to be apart of something more.

Anton wanted to know more about her.

“Great job, Y/N! I didn’t want to interrupt so I waited outside the room.” Mr. Jeon had walked into the room from the door on the opposite end of where Anton was. “You sound amazing, as always. I definitely chose right when I chose to give you the solo.”

Anton could see Y/N get smirk at the compliment. “I knew you would come to your senses. This song is perfect for my voice, after all.”

To most, she would come off as cocky and unbearable. And to most she was.

But for Anton, he saw it in a different way. Most people were just too insecure about themselves to be able to admit when they’re good at something. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. However, Y/N knew that she was talented enough to become something. There was nothing wrong in vocalizing that.

And Anton admired that aspect of Y/N.

“The others should be coming soon. I assume they’re all getting a quick snack since I moved the rehearsal time.”

So that’s why Y/N was practicing alone. Anton wondered why no one was there despite it being well past 3:30.

That face made Anton more attracted to her. Y/N already knew she was good enough to get any part, yet she still took time to herself to practice. And she practiced well.

A burning desire filled Anton’s heart as he pushed open the door.

“Oh, Anton! You’re a bit early. I for-“

“I want to join Glee.” Anton rushed his words, before he could chicken out. And suddenly, he turned his head and made eye contact with Y/N. He could feel all his confidence drain in that moment, as she kept her stare on him as if she were judging him. Anton forgot his tendency to be shy. “I-If the offer is still standing, I mean.”

Mr. Jeon clapped his hands once. “That’s great news! What made you change your mind?”

Anton kept his eyes on Y/N, who was also waiting for his answer.

There were multiple reasons he could think of, but one reason stood out amongst the others.

“I saw an angel.” Was all Anton could admit.

He sounded crazy, and neither Y/N nor Mr. Jeon could figure out what he was talking about, but that didn’t matter. Both were just glad there would be another guy in Glee.

“Well, we need another male lead for one of our performances so you and Y/N can lead ‘No Air’ together.” Mr. Jeon instructed. “Does that work for you?”

Y/N slowly made her way to Anton, and he felt the air in his lungs phase out.

“I don’t know, will you be able to keep up with me? I’m kind of difficult.” She challenged.

Anton mustered up what little confidence he had left in his body, and leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I like difficult.”

Anton was falling behind in the love department, and he needed to catch up. Maybe the latte design from the day before was a sign that he would fall in love. It had seemed to coincidental to not be true.

After crossing Y/N’s path in such a way, he knew that he would have to pursue her as much as he could. He had never fallen for someone so strongly before. But he knew that Y/N was the one he had been waiting for.

In a way, they were sort of one in the same. Both seemingly too undesirable to get into relationships. That idea comforted him.

Anton was falling behind, but for Y/N he would put all of his effort to catch up. Even if it meant disregarding his social status or mockery from his friends.

Y/N was worth the effort.

authors note. first riize fic!!! i love riize sm and anton is soooooo falling behind coded ugh i adore him also yay glee

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kivrio @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

#riize x reader #anton x reader #anton lee #riize x you #riize x imagine #riize anton #riize fluff #anton fluff #lee anton #anton riize #riize imagines #riize #riize oneshots

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

Text

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 11. The Other One

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words. I only read it once lol Word Count: 4667 words. Author's Note: We are so close to the end. I already want to get to the grand finale, but I can only write one chapter at the time. uwu Thanks for all the support so far!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

“Salmon or hake?” I wondered as I compared the two frozen fish. I was in the frozen section of the best supermarket in the city. My exposed skin was cold by being exposed to the bed of ice and near the refrigerators full of snacks and fast foods. The nerves in my hands were beginning to tighten from holding the frozen packages for too long.

Ladies slowly dragging their carts through the white aisles, children crying to their mothers who already want to go home and the employees running from side to side behind me. The popular music framed my thoughts as I read the nutritional facts for each product, focusing on the grams of protein. Since I was in charge of cooking for Sukuna’s birthday, I had to choose the best products to make him the best dinner he ever had

Salmon has 20 grams of protein, 13 grams of fat and zero carbohydrates. In addition to its contribution of Omega-3, for high-performance athletes it is the ideal fish to eat, since it has a very good ratio of proteins and healthy fats. If I baked it in the oven, I was sure it would be delicious. The only problem? The famous mercury. Although, according to some studies, it is true that salmon is the fish that contains the least amount. Hake is usually its alternative, which has less fat, but the same or more amount of protein, also it digests better.

“Salmon has more potassium, selenium, and vitamin B12." A female voice interrupted my mental debate.

My eyes widened when I saw the beauty next to me. A thin and tall blonde woman. Her blonde hair was long and her bangs looked great on her. His thin eyebrows framed her big brown eyes. His tight-fitting black turtleneck shirt and high-waisted pants made her look phenomenal. It was like admiring a beautiful porcelain statue, you could easily get lost in the details of her person.

"Oh, thanks. Are you a nutritionist or something like that?” I asked curiously as I returned the hake to the bed of ice.

"I'm a jiu-jitsu coach. I never thought I would meet the Medusa Snake in a supermarket,” she joked.

I should have seen it before. Her physical build was magnificent for a jiu-jitsu fighter. Her arms were perfectly toned, and his long legs could knock down any rival with one kick. I started to envy her body.

"I was told you were Ryomen's coach, I see that you are… very close," she said as she looked directly at the bracelet that Sukuna had given me earlier this morning. That was strange.

"It is a complicated task, but I think that every day we understand each other more," I answered honestly.

"I wanted to be his coach, you know?” she told me as if nothing had happened.

Something in me set off a warning alarm. I could sense that this conversation had a double intention. Was she threatening my position? Did she know that I wouldn't be Sukuna's coach anytime soon? Was she just trying to have a nice conversation in the middle of the frozen section? She was a beautiful woman to admire, but I didn't like where this was going.

"Who are you?" I asked confused, completely breaking the flow of the conversation.

"My name is Yuki Tsukumo," she introduced herself with a smile. “This is the Yuki who sent the bracelet to Sukuna!” I thought, trying not to reflect surprise on my face, but I'm not sure if I did it. “I see he received my gift, it's a shame he didn't want to use it."

"Sukuna doesn't like receiving gifts, that's why he gave it to me,” I answered, my tone sounding more defensive than I intended.

"Thank goodness he didn't throw it in the trash," she said before taking the hake I left. "I hope he doesn't throw you away either." With that threat, she walked away, getting lost in the cereal aisle.

I just saw the beautiful woman swinging her hips away, like a poisonous viper with beautiful colored scales. I couldn't help but see the gold bracelet that rested delicately on my wrist. My gaze hyperfixed on the letters engraved on it, wondering what kind of relationship this strange woman had with Sukuna. I put the salmon in my basket and continued with my shopping in an attempt to forget the unusual conversation.

After paying for the salmon and the rest of the ingredients I would use for the special dinner, my phone started ringing. I arranged the plastic bags in one hand to get my phone out of my pants. It was Yuuji.

"Hello, Y/n!" His friendly voice sounded from the other side. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not really. I am only going to make Sukuna’s dinner for his birthday,” I answered as I walked back home.

"Cancel that. My parents just invited me and my brothers to dinner at the restaurant they just opened in the bay.” I stopped dead and sighed. “The salmon will have to wait until tomorrow.” "Do you have a pretty dress?" he wondered out of nowhere.

"Why you ask?". I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked my parents if you could come. When they found out you were Sukuna's friend, they said yes.”

"Why did you do that?" I asked him, even more confused. This couldn't be good.

"Because Choso is going, duh," he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Because I was thinking about Sukuna 24/7, I had completely forgotten about Choso's existence. Yuuji still doesn't know that I like his other brother now. Plus, his parents will be there. Oh no, this can't be happening. This would be a disaster, I could sense it. Did I really have to go? My feelings churned in my chest the further I walked down the sidewalk. I stopped when I reached the crosswalk. The traffic light was red.

"I don't think this is a good idea..."

"Don't say that! It's the perfect opportunity for Choso to see you slay like the queen you are,” Yuuji lifted my spirits that I was dragging on the ground.

"Hang up the phone now!" I heard Gojo yell at him from a distance, Yuuji was still be in the gym, training with Sukuna.

"See you in the afternoon," he said goodbye before hanging up.

The light turned green, but I still couldn't cross. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, stunned by the unusual invitation. I felt lost. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go because I really like hanging out with the boys, but I was afraid to find out what my true feelings were for Choso and Sukuna. Also, I raised Choso’s hopes up. What if I didn’t like him anymore because I liked Sukuna? Thai was a mess.

The traffic light turned red again. Why was I questioning my feelings for Choso? It's true that I liked Sukuna, but I liked Choso the moment I saw him. Sukuna had been an acquired taste from the times we've slept together. The gifts and me living with him seemed to have no meaning to him. I was in a dangerous situation, and he just wanted to protect me, right? Everything was so confusing. Maybe if I was to go to dinner, I had to find out what my true feelings were.

The traffic light turned green again.

After picking my outfit, an everything shower and doing my makeup, I was ready. It had been a long time since the last time I dressed up like a fine lady for dinner. I always have to wear sporty clothes due to work. Putting on a cute pink dress and applying a small wing eyeliner made me feel like a pretty princess. I brushed my hair in front of my large bathroom mirror while my stomach churned nervously. Seeing myself so different from how I normally look was like seeing an old friend I hadn't seen in years. As I put the brush back in its place, I noticed that I still had Sukuna's bracelet on my wrist.

“I don't think it's a good idea to wear it today,” I thought aloud before taking it off and putting it in a jewelry box.

I went down to the entrance at the time Sukuna and I had agreed to leave. My heels echoed with every step I took. I already wanted him to see me as “the queen” that I am, Yuuji's words. I went downstairs with every intention of surprising him, but I was the one who ended up surprised. He was already there, fixing his elegant suit in front of the mirror. I never thought I'd see a man like Sukuna, who always dresses in T-shirts and shorts, wearing a sharp black suit with an ivory turtleneck sweater. This was not the cranky man I coach, this was a millionaire man with a mobster vibe straight out of a romance novel written by a woman. From the shine on his shoes to his well-groomed hair, Sukuna looked like the jackpot.

“You look... different,” he said as he analyzed my whole body. “Of course I look different! What kind of compliment is that?!” I thought annoyed.

“You look different too.” I told him reluctantly.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked. I just nodded excitedly before following him out the door.

In the nighttime tapestry of the city, the bright lights painted a surreal panorama. The asphalt shone like an ebony river, reflecting the headlights of passing cars like wandering fireflies. The city had an air of mystery and adventure. Tokyo was a place where anything could happen, where dreams came true and nightmares lurked in the shadows. The steering wheel turned under my fingers like a rudder guiding a ship through a sea of metal. The roar of the engine was a discordant symphony that echoed in the silence of the night.

“How did training with Gojo go?” I asked him to get a topic of conversation.

"Everything was going well until I had to train again with the useless rookies,” he muttered in annoyance, gripping the steering wheel firmly. "Have you thought about who your replacement will be?" He asked.

"I have a few candidates in mind,” I answered. "In fact, a coach approached me when I went to the market, but she didn't give me a good vibe.”

"Why?" he asked, curious.

"I think you already know each other."

"What's her name?”

"Yuki Tsukumo." Sukuna braked the car in its tracks, making us bounce in our seats. Thank God we had our seat belts on. If we hadn’t, I would have slammed into the glass. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed with my heart in my hand.

Sukuna didn't answer me. He squeezed the steering wheel, clearly annoyed, to park next to the curb. He took off his seatbelt to lean back on the steering wheel. Who was this Yuki Tsukumo that could make Sukuna act like this? An ex-partner? Impossible, Yuuji told me that he has never had a girlfriend. Someone he slept with in the past? I don't blame him, she's beautiful.

"You better not tell Choso or Yuuji that you ran into he," he told me after letting out a long sigh.

"Why not? Is there something I should know?” I asked him confused with the whole situation.

"She is Choso's ex-fiancée,” he answered before holding his forehead in concern.

"Oh…” I could not believe it.

Sukuna POV

I couldn't believe this blonde bitch had shown up again. Finally, when we had all left her in the past, she decided to come back for more. I clearly remembered the first time I saw that stupid girl smiling from cheek to cheek as if she were a pure soul. Choso looked so happy and proud to introduce her as his future wife. Poor asshole, he didn't know what he was getting into... and neither did I.

He still vividly remembered the night where everything turned into a shit show. The UFC had paid me the best suite in Las Vegas for my first championship fight. Sometimes I closed my eyes to return to that majestic place. Admiring the Strip, a glittering ribbon of casinos, hotels, and attractions that never sleeps, Paris's iconic Eiffel Tower twinkling with a thousand lights, and the High Roller Ferris wheel rising above the horizon like a giant lighthouse. I fucked a prostitute in the middle of the wide balcony, enjoying the panorama that stretched out in front of me.

"Sukuna!" The whore screamed my name desperately.

My hips didn't stop pounding into ramming her. Her tits were bouncing in my face and her legs were spread across the couch. I opened her ass to reach the deepest part of her being. He had paid a good amount for her, he was willing to destroy her physically and emotionally. I pulled her hair while my cock hit her cervix, her limit. I was so close to reaching the climax, ensuring my future victory... but some idiot had to ring the bell at that moment.

I was so close that I didn't care that the person would stay outside all night. I didn't care if it was Choso, Gojo, Yuuji or my parents. I was very busy. The idiot didn't seem to want to understand that I wasn't going to open it, so he kept insisting on the fucking doorbell. Ding-dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-fucking-Dong. The annoying sound made me lose concentration.

"Fuck!" I screamed before pulling my cock out of the whore. She sighed in annoyance, plopping down on the couch. "Hide in the closet or something, I'm not done with you." I told her before wrapping a towel around my hips.

"I'm going to charge you extra!" She yelled at me before following my instruction.

I straightened my towel before reluctantly opening the door. In front of me was the last person I thought I would meet. It was Yuki, Choso's guest. What the fuck was she doing here at midnight? Especially alone. From her pajamas and her slightly messy hair, I could tell she had escaped from the bed she shared with my younger brother.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her, annoyed. "It better be important."

"I want to talk about business, can I come in?" she asked me with her usual flirtatious smile.

"No. Just tell me what you have to say so you can leave me alone,” I answered. I could already feel my balls turning blue.

"Do you kiss your mother with that filthy?" she joked.

"I'm not in the mood, spit it out before I slam the door in your face," I blurted out. It was the last warning I was going to give her.

"I noticed that you don't have a trainer who specializes in jiu-jitsu. I know you don't accept women in your gym, but if you allow me to be part of your team, I can…".

I couldn't help but laugh in her face, cutting her off completely. Did she just interrupt my good luck ritual to offer herself as my trainer? I knew she was a jiu-jitsu trainer at a local gym, but I never thought she had the balls to ask me to recruit her. Couldn't she do this another day or in the morning? Why right here when Choso is surely sleeping peacefully thinking that she is by his side? Was this shit serious? There were so many questions about her behavior that I could only laugh.

"I don't see what's funny about it," Yuki said, crossing her arms.

"Then you have a terrible sense of humor," I answered. "Is that all you have to tell me?"

"I'm sure I'm a better fighter than you, I could kick your ass if I wanted to," she said annoyed.

"I want to see you try," I said. “She wouldn't dare,” I thought for sure.

Well, she dared. She attacked me by surprise with a kick to the abdomen. I lowered my arm, preventing it from connecting completely, but it did hit my side. I couldn't defend myself well while just having a towel on. One wrong move and I was already naked. I backed away out of inertia, allowing her to enter the suite. She jumped at me to continue hitting me.

"Bitch!" I screamed while covering my private parts.

"I'm going to show you that you need me on your team!" she shouted with a smile on his face.

"I don't want anyone else on my team!" I exclaimed.

How the hell did we get to this situation? I wasn't sure, but I had to do something about it. She pulled and punched me, trying to take me down like any jiu-jitsu fighter would do. She launched another kick at me, this time I evaded it in time, but she broke a lamp in the process. I was debating in my mind whether I should knock her out with one punch. I could not do it. Even though she was crazy, she was Choso's fiancée. My first option was to call one of my brothers or someone saner.

"Just think about it seriously, with my brain and your muscles I could make you a millionaire in less than you think," she told me excitedly.

So she was after the money. Which is normal… but that didn't explain why she was acting so secretive. Why didn't she tell Choso he wanted a job on the Team Black? There was something else she wasn't telling me. I entered the master bedroom as quickly as possible without exposing my cock to grab the phone, but she ended up cornering me against the closet before I could get to it. At the sudden knock, the prostitute screamed.

"Who is it?" Yuki asked me confused.

"I didn't know he had a wife!" The whore screamed opening the closet door. “Oh no,” I thought. "Please don't hit me!" The poor girl yelled as she fled the scene.

"Hey! We're not done yet!” I yelled.

And as if fate was mocking me, I dropped the towel. I was in the middle of a teenager's worst nightmare. Yuki shamelessly looked down, making this more awkward than it already was. By this point I was praying that this was a bad taste prank. I just wanted Yuuji or Gojo to come into the room with a camera in hand, mocking my reaction, but that never happened.

"Nice girl you hired," she laughed at me. And just when I thought this was only going to get worse, I heard the voice of my potential savior.

"Sukuna!" I heard Choso's voice from the door as he rang the doorbell as if his life depended on it.

"You worried your future husband," I told her before pushing her to let go, so I could put the towel back on.

"Hire me or I'll tell Choso I cheated on him with you," Yuki threatened me.

"What?!" I asked him, frowning at the tremendous bullshit she just said.

That's when it hit me. Yuki came to ask me for a job without Choso because she is only with him for convenience. She's only with him to blatantly get close to me. Since I don't accept women in the gym, this was his solution to get to me. I should have seen it before. I remember how at dinner with our parents he spent the time talking about jiu-jitsu and the UFC, sharing his extensive knowledge on the subject. Everyone was delighted with her, but she drove me crazy.

"Are you that desperate for money?" I asked him, not believing what was happening.

"You don't have much time,” Yuki crossed her arms as the ringing continued.

"Sukuna!" Choso exclaimed again.

"I trust Choso, he is not stupid enough to fall for something like that."

End of Sukuna POV

"Choso was stupid enough to fall for that,” Sukuna blurted out after recounting the tragedy that happened that day. "He knew about my lucky ritual and to this day he still thinks I fucked his fiancée," he said as he looked towards the car in front of us.

I was just listening to him while Sign Of The Times by Harry Styles was playing on the radio. We were still parked so that Sukuna could tell me in great detail what had happened with Yuki and Choso. It was a hard story to believe. A woman interrupting his suite in the middle of his lucky ritual and then threatening to break off his relationship with his brother over a measly coaching job is not something you hear every day.

"I tried to explain to him several times what happened, but he never wanted to listen to me. Then he told Yuuji and since that idiot doesn't know how to shut up, everyone in the gym knows,” he explained. "It's an absurd story, I know, but…".

"I believe you," I told him before he could finish his sentence.

"You do?" he looked at me, confused.

"Why are you surprised? I believed you when you told me about your lucky ritual.” I said. "Is it a strange story? Yes, but we are a team. If you tell me the sky is pink, I believe you. If you tell me that pigs fly, I believe you. If you tell me that Yuki Tsukumo is a son of a bitch, I'll believe you.”

Sukuna smiled at my response. He looked relieved, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I smiled back at his reaction. Sukuna always has been honest with me, I had no reason to doubt him. Even though I had little time left as his coach, I planned to continue by his side. I don't know if it was the sad story or my feelings towards him got in the way that made me take off my seat belt to reach him. He didn't know what exactly was going through his mind, but whatever it was, he needed a hug.

My body felt light when he reciprocated the gesture. Our bodies melted in the warmth of the moment. His hands traveled down my back to press me closer to his broad chest. I would have liked to stop time to stay here all my life. Maybe Sukuna didn't like me back, but I knew I someone important to him, and I was happy with that.

The luxurious restaurant at the Grand Palace Hotel had an elegant atmosphere with high ceilings, panoramic windows and sparkling chandeliers. Sukuna and I made our way among the tables covered with white tablecloths and velvet chairs that invited guests to delight in an exquisite menu. In the distance, we saw his family. They were happy to see us, but they were also clearly disappointed for arriving 20 minutes late. Everyone looked elegant and sophisticated, especially Choso. He always looked good, but today he looked phenomenal in his gray suit and white shirt. He greeted me with a smile on his face as soon as we approached the table.

"You look beautiful,” he complimented me. My heart skipped a beat with happiness. “Are you watching, Sukuna? This is how you give a compliment,” I thought with blushing cheeks.

"I thought I raised you to always be on time," the mother scolded Sukuna.

According to Yuuji, Kaori Itadori was a highly sophisticated and strict mother. She has always focused on giving his children the best education so that they would grow up to be strong men and providers. An extremely traditional and Catholic woman. She sounded like the worst mother-in-law you could have.

"There was a lot of traffic," Sukuna answered reluctantly as we sat at the table.

Choso helped me, pulling my chair like a perfect gentleman. I was so nervous having him so close, since Yuuji gave me his seat, so I could sit next to him. My mind was at peace realizing that I still liked Choso a lot.

"At this time? The report says that the streets are quite clear,” his mother challenged him.

"Honey, it was only 20 minutes. You're going to scare his girlfriend away,” her husband, Jin Itadori, told her. He was like any dad, pretty chill and care free.

"She is not my girlfriend. She's my coach,” Sukuna clarified, starting to get annoyed.

"But you live together," his mother said.

"You live together?" Choso asked me confused. “Oh no,” I thought. I had barely arrived, and I already wanted to go home. I had a feeling this woman was going to try to embarrass me in any way possible the rest of the evening.

"It is a long story," I said, trying to cut the tension.

"You see, Sukuna kicked his ex's ass. This ex almost raped her in the past, so Sukuna offered her to live with him so she would feel safe,” Yuuji explained the situation.

"Yuuji!" Sukuna and I scolded him.

"I'm just trying to help!" Yuuji defended himself.

I wanted to die. Yuuji just told the whole table my life trauma as if it were the plot of a movie he watched on Netflix. I hid in my hands from shame, praying that the earth would swallow me whole.

"I'll take a smoking break," Choso said before getting up from the table to retreat to the balcony.

"Is it necessary to ask those kinds of questions now?" Sukuna asked his mother, already annoyed.

"You know what I think about concubinage," His mother reproached him, disappointed.

"We're not a couple. We just work together.” Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"Besides, Y/n likes Choso, don’t you?" Yuuji asked me to make his mother stop bugging me with questions about my relationship with her son.

"I need fresh air," I excused myself to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I knew this was a bad idea from the start. I should have said no to Yuuji. I went out to the balcony to breathe deeply and admire the view of the city. I looked at Choso to explain what was happening. I found him smoking on the other side of the balcony, just as he had told us. He looked so elegant and mysterious in front of the pretty city lights. A beautiful contrast between brightness and darkness.

"Long time no see," I greeted him, approaching him.

"Does Sukuna treat you well?" He asked me, ignoring my greeting. It seemed like being straightforward ran in the family.

"I can not complain," I answered honestly. "Sometimes he's a jerk, but you already know that," I joked. He smiled with the cigarette between his lips.

"I know… very well," he said as he blew the smoke into the wind, being careful not to blow the smoke in my face.

"Does it bother you that I live with him?" I asked him worried.

"Of course not, I just didn't expect it," he answered. "Yuuji told me that you're going to quit soon, is that true?" I was happy to see that he was treating me as always.

"That's right, I'm very excited to return to the gym with my team," I explained with a smile.

Choso despite having some similarities with Sukuna, he was so kind in comparison. His voice was sweet, his touch was pleasant, and his words filled me with joy. My heart moved every time he spoke to me. In the end, I realized that I still liked him, and I was very happy that it was that way. He was my ideal man.

"Are you still thinking about calling me when you become the protector again?" He wondered with a thread of hope. My cheeks blushed redder as I listened. I had already forgotten what I had said to him that night at the bar.

"You know it," I answered him with a smile.

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