Evil Pope So Laaame, I Love Him

Evil pope so laaame, I love him

Podcast Recs

So I’ve recently gotten into podcasts and I decided to make a list of all my favorites in order to spread the love.

Welcome to Night Vale: The first podcast everyone listens to. About a small desert community where strange and fantastical things occur on a daily basis. Comedic and introspective with horror elements. And a lot of positive POC, LGBT, and disabled representation (including a lesbian hijabi Muslim!!! A girl in a wheelchair who pulls off a heist!!! A sarcastic, British agender sheriff!!! A little African American girl who reads books and saves an entire town!!!!) 10/10 recommend.

EOS 10: A medical comedy set in in space. Amazing. It takes a few episodes to really get interesting, so if you listen I would suggest listening to at least the fourth episode. Nobody is straight, and it’s wonderful and I would die for each character. Also, Dr. Urvidian. Trust me.

Alice Isn’t Dead: By the some of the same people who did Night Vale. A creepy, haunting story about a woman driving trucks across the country to search for her missing wife. It’s incredibly set up, and so well-written. Warning: some gory imagery and description of murder. Also, WOC protagonist and pretty much all women.

Within the Wires: GUYS. This story was incredible. The format’s really unique: it’s set as a series of relaxation cassettes that slowly reveal the history between the narrator and the listener. It’s GREAT. Seriously, give this one a listen. It’s actually really relaxing between all the bombshells about the plot. It’s also by one of the guys that writes Welcome to Night Vale, so of course it’s gay.

The Penumbra Podcast: This is another one that’s hard to describe, but it’s a collection of stories, a different one every episode. Some are recurring, but some are stand-alone. SUCH amazing representation here, and funny/creepy storylines. There’s a nonbinary bisexual MOC, a Native American wlw BANDIT, a knight with a physical disability, women with actually good characterization, and a lot more. How often do we see that?

The Bright Sessions: Basically superheroes who go to therapy. Good acting, cool storylines, a cute romance. Again, lots of representation. Realistic depictions of mental illness and PTSD. And bisexual, lesbian, gay, and asexual rep!!!

Wolf 359: A story about the crew of a spaceship circling the Wolf 359 star. At first I thought this was a comedy, but it got dark pretty fast. The characterization is great. The story is comedic and gritty and fast-paced, and I would die for Isabelle Lovelace. If you like space shenanigans and found family, this one’s for you.

Kakos Industries: This podcast is hilarious. It takes the format of a corporation’s monthly shareholder announcements. Only this corporation, headed by the legendary Corin Deeth III, helps you “do evil better.” It might disturb you a bit though, so if you don’t like sex jokes, murder, and swearing, stay away from this one.

The Orbiting Human Circus of the Air: A weird little show by Night Vale Presents that’s really hard to describe, but it includes an absolutely wonderful narrator, the cutest protagonist, and amazing side characters. The format’s cool as well, so I recommend giving it a listen. (also the main character’s a mlm!)

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that-jax

6 months ago

Changing the Game

platonic!Fernando Alonso x mentee!Reader

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: motorsport can be cruel, especially for young women aspiring to make it to Formula 1, but when Fernando notices a driver who deserves more than the unjust cards fate handed her, he decides to do something about it … and your life will never be the same

The roar of engines fills the air, blending with the faint scent of gasoline that clings to the paddock like a memory. Fernando walks through the chaos of the Formula 3 circuit, hands in his pockets, sunglasses firmly in place.

His presence is a subtle disruption, not loud, but noticeable. Drivers and engineers glance his way, some nodding in respect, others too focused on their tasks to do more than acknowledge him with a brief flicker of recognition.

He’s been watching the race, the sun high overhead, a burning reminder that summer has a way of dragging things out. Yet, time has felt elastic today, stretched out by the tension of the track and the surprising twist that caught his attention.

A young driver — no, more than just young — barely seventeen, the only female on the grid, had sliced through the competition with precision and ferocity. Her car, marked by the number on the side, had danced on the edge of control, flirting with danger at every turn but never losing its rhythm. When the chequered flag waved, she’d crossed the line in a solid third, inches from second, and not far from the top spot.

He’d seen talent before, of course. It’s part of his world, spotting it, nurturing it, sometimes crushing it under the weight of competition. But something about you caught his eye. There’s a sharpness in your driving, a clarity of purpose that’s rare. He wonders where you’ve been hiding.

As the cars pull into the pit lane, the usual bustle takes over. Engineers swarm around their drivers, debriefs start, and helmets are tugged off with a mix of relief and frustration. Fernando watches from a distance, scanning the crowd until he finds you. You’re standing by your car, tugging at your gloves with a sharp motion, frustration etched in the tightness of your jaw. There’s a fleeting moment where you pull off your helmet, shaking out your hair, and Fernando notices the absence of something.

Sponsors.

Your race suit is practically bare. The car too, minimal branding, the kind that signals a driver struggling to make ends meet rather than one who’s just claimed a podium finish. He frowns, tilting his head slightly as he watches you. It doesn’t make sense. A driver that good should be swimming in offers, drowning in endorsements.

He catches the eye of a paddock official nearby, someone he’s vaguely familiar with — one of those types who always seem to know more than they let on. Fernando strides over, casual but direct. The official straightens up, clearly surprised to have Fernando Alonso approaching.

“Who’s the girl?” Fernando asks, nodding in your direction, though he doesn’t really need to. You’re the only one who fits the description.

The official glances your way, then back at Fernando. “Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been turning heads all season.”

“Not enough, apparently.” Fernando gestures vaguely at your race suit, his tone making it clear he’s talking about the lack of sponsorship. “What’s going on there?”

The official hesitates, glancing around as if to make sure no one’s listening. He lowers his voice slightly, a conspiratorial tone creeping in. “She’s good, real good. But, you know … she’s a girl.”

Fernando’s eyebrows shoot up, a sharp flash of irritation sparking in his eyes. “So?”

“So,” the official continues, shifting his weight uncomfortably, “sponsors and academies, they’re … cautious. Not sure if she’s got the staying power. And you know how it is, they’re more willing to take a risk on a kid who fits the mold.”

“The mold,” Fernando repeats, his voice flat, incredulous. He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. It’s 2019, and this is still happening. It shouldn’t surprise him, but somehow, it does.

His gaze returns to you, still standing by your car, now deep in conversation with your race engineer. There’s a fierceness in the way you talk, the way you move your hands as if trying to will the universe to bend to your will. Fernando recognizes that fire — it’s the same one he’s carried in himself for years.

But there’s more than just frustration in your eyes. There’s something else — determination, maybe, but tinged with something darker, something that’s been carved out of too many disappointments. He knows that look too. It’s the one you get when you’re tired of proving yourself over and over, and yet, you keep doing it because there’s no other choice.

Fernando’s decision is made in an instant. He doesn’t overthink it; he never has. That’s not his style. He approaches you with the same casual confidence that’s defined his career, weaving through the bustle of the paddock until he’s close enough to catch the tail end of your conversation.

“... could’ve pushed harder into turn four,” you’re saying to your engineer, frustration coloring your voice. “But the grip just wasn’t there.”

Your engineer nods, making a note on his tablet, but before he can respond, Fernando steps into the space between you.

“Grip’s one thing,” he says, his voice cutting through the noise around you, “but timing’s everything.”

You turn, eyes widening just a fraction as you realize who’s standing there. Fernando catches the flicker of surprise that you quickly mask with a polite, if guarded, smile.

“Fernando Alonso,” you say, your voice a careful mix of respect and curiosity.

“In the flesh,” he replies, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glances at your car, then back at you. “Nice drive today.”

“Thanks.” The word comes out clipped, like you’re not entirely sure what to make of him yet. He can tell you’re used to being judged, sized up and dismissed by those who think they know better. But Fernando’s not here to judge.

“Third place,” he continues, as if he’s thinking out loud. “But you had the pace for second.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, and for the first time, a hint of a real smile breaks through. “Yeah, I did. But things don’t always go as planned.”

“No,” he agrees, “they don’t. But you’ve got talent. Real talent.”

You study him for a moment, your expression shifting from guarded to something more open, more curious. “Thanks,” you say again, but this time it’s softer, more genuine.

There’s a pause, the noise of the paddock fading slightly as you both stand there, sizing each other up. Fernando knows this is the moment where most people would make some kind of offer — advice, mentorship, maybe even a contract. But he’s never been one to do things by the book.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Do you like ice cream?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“Ice cream,” he repeats, his tone light, almost teasing. “Do you like it?”

“Uh … yeah?” You sound more confused than anything, but there’s a hint of amusement creeping into your voice.

“Great,” Fernando says, as if that settles everything. He steps back, gesturing for you to follow him. “Let’s go get some. My treat.”

You stare at him for a moment, clearly trying to figure out if he’s serious. But when you see that he is, a slow smile spreads across your face, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Okay,” you say, still laughing a little as you start to walk beside him. “Why not?”

And just like that, the tension that had been hanging over the paddock seems to dissipate, replaced by something lighter, something that feels almost like hope.

***

The ice cream shop is a short walk from the circuit, tucked into a corner of the small town that’s hosting the weekend’s race. It’s the kind of place Fernando imagines has been around for decades, unchanged except for maybe a new coat of paint every few years. The neon sign in the window buzzes faintly, its pink light reflecting off the glass as he pushes the door open, holding it for you as you follow him inside.

The cool air is a welcome relief from the heat outside, carrying with it the sweet, unmistakable scent of sugar and cream. The shop is quiet, just a couple of kids sitting by the window, licking at cones that seem far too big for them. Behind the counter, a bored-looking teenager perks up as the door chimes, her gaze sharpening as she recognizes Fernando.

“Can I help you?” She asks, her voice brightening as she tries to act casual, though it’s clear she’s a little starstruck.

Fernando nods toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ladies first.”

You hesitate for a moment, then step up to the counter, glancing at the array of ice cream flavors displayed behind the glass. The choices are written in chalk on a board above, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the rich, golden brown of the dulce de leche. You point to it, giving the girl behind the counter a quick smile.

“Two scoops of that, please,” you say, and then, after a beat, “with as many toppings as will fit.”

Fernando raises an eyebrow, amused as he watches you. The girl behind the counter doesn’t question it, scooping generous portions of the creamy ice cream into a cup before moving over to the toppings bar. You lean over the counter slightly, studying the options with a critical eye before making your selections — caramel drizzle, chocolate chips, a handful of crushed cookies, a sprinkle of nuts, and a final flourish of whipped cream on top.

When the girl hands you the cup, it’s practically overflowing, a masterpiece of indulgence that’s almost as impressive as your driving. You turn to Fernando, already reaching for your wallet.

“I can pay for mine,” you say quickly, but Fernando waves you off, already pulling out his own wallet.

“It’s on me,” he insists, his tone making it clear there’s no room for argument.

You open your mouth to protest, but the look he gives you stops you in your tracks. There’s something gentle in his eyes, an unexpected warmth that makes you pause. You let out a small sigh, putting your wallet away as you give in.

“Fine,” you mutter, though there’s no real annoyance in your voice. “But I’m getting you back for this.”

Fernando chuckles as he orders a simple vanilla cone for himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Once he’s paid, the two of you find a small table near the back of the shop, away from the kids and the counter. It’s quiet, almost private, with the hum of the freezers and the distant chatter of the other customers filling the silence. You sit across from him, carefully balancing your cup of ice cream as you take your first bite.

The first taste of dulce de leche is heavenly, the caramel sweetness melting on your tongue as the toppings add layers of texture and flavor. For a moment, it’s easy to forget about everything else — the race, the frustration, the uncertainty of it all. There’s just the ice cream, the coolness of it on your tongue, and the rare sensation of simply enjoying something without a care.

Fernando watches you with a faint smile, his own ice cream barely touched as he leans back in his chair. He doesn’t rush to fill the silence, letting you savor the moment before he finally speaks.

“So,” he says, breaking the quiet, “tell me about your situation.”

You glance up at him, the spoon pausing halfway to your mouth. There’s something in his tone, something gentle but probing, that tells you this isn’t just small talk. You lower the spoon, setting the cup down on the table as you consider how to respond.

“It’s … complicated,” you begin, though that word hardly covers it. You let out a small sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you lean back in your chair. “I mean, I’m doing everything I can on the track. My results speak for themselves, right? But it’s like … it’s like none of that matters.”

Fernando nods, encouraging you to continue. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just a quiet understanding, and that makes it easier to keep talking.

“Every race, I’m out there giving it everything I’ve got,” you say, your voice growing more animated as you go on. “I’m right up there with the best of them — sometimes even better. But then I look around, and I see these other drivers, guys who are barely scraping into the points, and they’ve got major sponsors backing them. They’re signed to F1 teams’ academies, they’ve got a clear path to the top. And me? I’ve got nothing. No sponsors, no academy, no security.”

You pick up your spoon again, stirring your ice cream absentmindedly as your frustration bubbles to the surface. “It’s not like I haven’t tried. My team’s tried too, but no one wants to take the risk on me. They all say the same thing — ‘You’re good, but we’re just not sure if you’re what we’re looking for.’ Which is just code for ‘You’re a girl, and we’re not willing to bet on you.’”

Fernando doesn’t interrupt, letting you vent. He’s heard stories like this before, but it never gets any easier to listen to. The sport has its issues, and while things have improved over the years, the barriers you’re facing are still all too real.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you shake your head. “It’s so frustrating, you know? I’m out there proving myself every single weekend, but it’s like I have to work twice as hard just to get noticed, and even then, it’s not enough. My parents — they believe in me, but they’re practically killing themselves to keep me racing. They had to take a second mortgage on the house just to get me into F3 this season. And every time I don’t get a sponsor, every time another academy passes on me, it’s like … it’s like I’m letting them down.”

Your voice cracks slightly at the end, and you quickly take another bite of ice cream, as if that can somehow keep your emotions in check. But Fernando sees the way your hand trembles just a little, the way your eyes have lost some of their fire, replaced by a weary resignation.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I know the sport is tough, but it feels like I’m fighting a battle that’s rigged from the start.”

Fernando takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not fair,” he says, his voice steady, grounding. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be this hard. But sometimes, the fight isn’t just about winning on the track. It’s about changing the game entirely.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to gauge what he means by that. There’s something in his tone, something determined and unyielding, that makes you believe he understands more than he’s letting on.

“Changing the game?” You repeat, the words feeling heavy in your mouth.

Fernando nods, leaning forward slightly. “Yeah. Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. You’ve got the talent, you’ve got the drive, and you’ve got something most people don’t — resilience. You’re still here, still fighting, even when the odds are against you. That says a lot.”

You bite your lip, absorbing his words. There’s a part of you that wants to believe him, that wants to hold on to that hope, but there’s also a part that’s tired — so tired of fighting an uphill battle, of always having to prove yourself over and over again.

“I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?”

Fernando’s gaze softens, and for a moment, he sees a reflection of his younger self in you, back when he was first starting out, hungry and determined but unsure of how far he could really go. The difference is, he had the backing, the opportunities that you’ve been denied.

“You are enough,” he says, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. “The problem isn’t with you. It’s with the system, with the people who are too scared to see things differently. But that doesn’t mean you stop. You keep pushing, keep showing them what they’re missing. And if they can’t see it, then we’ll make them see it.”

You blink, surprised by the intensity in his voice. There’s a conviction there that’s hard to ignore, a belief in you that you’ve been struggling to find in yourself.

“We?” You ask, your voice tinged with cautious hope.

Fernando smiles, a small, determined curve of his lips. “We. You’re not alone in this. I’ve been where you are, in a different way, but I know what it’s like to have to fight for everything. And I know what it’s like to have someone in your corner who believes in you.”

You stare at him, processing his words, the implications of what he’s offering. There’s a warmth in your chest, a spark of something that feels dangerously close to hope.

“So what now?” You ask, your voice steadier.

Fernando leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes a thoughtful bite of his ice cream. There's a moment of silence, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you, before he finally speaks, his voice calm but resolute.

"Now?" He sets his cone down on the table, his expression sharpening with purpose. "I make some calls."

***

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, and Fernando hasn’t been able to shake the conversation from his mind. He’s been in the sport long enough to know how things work, but hearing it from you, seeing how the system has worn you down despite your undeniable talent, it struck a nerve. It’s been a whirlwind of phone calls, favors cashed in, and quiet meetings behind closed doors. But now, standing at the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport, Fernando knows it’s all been worth it.

You come into view, wheeling your carry-on behind you, your eyes scanning the crowd until they land on him. A look of surprise crosses your face, quickly replaced by a hesitant smile as you make your way over.

“Hey,” you greet him, a mix of confusion and curiosity in your voice as you pull your suitcase to a stop beside him. “So … what’s this all about?”

Fernando just grins, taking the handle of your suitcase from you with a casualness that leaves no room for argument. “You’ll see,” he says, cryptic as ever. “Come on, the car’s this way.”

You follow him out to the parking garage, throwing him sideways glances, clearly trying to piece together what he’s up to. Fernando’s only response is an amused smile as he opens the door for you, waiting until you’re settled in the passenger seat before loading your luggage in the trunk.

As he pulls out of the airport and merges onto the highway, the silence between you is comfortable but charged with anticipation. You keep glancing over at him, your curiosity growing with every mile.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” You finally ask, your tone hovering between teasing and exasperation.

Fernando chuckles, shaking his head. “Nope.”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat, but there’s a glimmer of excitement in your eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’m trusting you, you know,” you say, half-joking, half-serious.

“And you won’t regret it,” he promises, the confidence in his voice almost contagious.

The drive is longer than you expected, taking you out of London and into the countryside. The scenery shifts from the urban sprawl to green fields and quaint villages, the roads becoming narrower and winding as they head deeper into the heart of England. It’s not until Fernando takes a turn down a private road, leading to a sleek, modern complex surrounded by high fences, that you begin to piece it together.

“This can’t be …” you start, your voice trailing off as the full realization hits you. “Is this-”

“Mercedes HQ,” Fernando confirms with a grin as he pulls up to the security gate. He rolls down the window, exchanging a few words with the guard, who quickly waves them through.

You’re silent as he drives into the parking lot, your eyes wide as you take in the sight of the Mercedes-AMG F1 Factory. It’s one thing to see it on TV or in photos, but to be here, in person, is something else entirely. Fernando parks the car and turns to you, catching the look on your face.

“Nervous?” He asks, though he already knows the answer.

“A little,” you admit, swallowing hard as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Okay, a lot.”

He chuckles, getting out of the car and coming around to your side to open the door for you. “Don’t be. You belong here.”

You hesitate, still processing everything, before nodding and stepping out of the car. Fernando grabs your suitcase from the trunk, but you barely notice, too busy taking in your surroundings as he leads you toward the entrance.

The interior of the building is just as impressive as the outside — modern, sleek, and buzzing with energy. Everywhere you look, there are people in team gear, some hurrying between offices, others deep in conversation. And then, as if the situation couldn’t get more surreal, Lewis Hamilton appears in the lobby, flanked by Toto Wolff.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you stop dead in your tracks. Fernando pauses beside you, a knowing smile on his face as he watches your reaction.

“Fernando,” Lewis greets, his smile widening when he sees you standing next to him. “And you must be the young driver I’ve been hearing so much about.”

You manage a nod, but words seem to have escaped you entirely. It’s not every day that you come face-to-face with a five-time world champion and the team principal of the most successful F1 team of the modern era.

Lewis chuckles at your speechlessness, his demeanor as relaxed and approachable as ever. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” he says, extending his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

You shake his hand, your own grip slightly shaky. “I … It’s an honor,” you stammer, your voice finally finding its way back to you.

Toto steps forward next, offering his hand as well. “Welcome to Brackley,” he says, his tone warm but with the same underlying intensity that’s made him such a formidable figure in the sport. “Fernando’s told us a lot about you.”

You glance over at Fernando, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in your eyes. This is so far beyond anything you could have imagined when you first got his call.

Lewis gestures for you to follow him down a hallway, with Toto and Fernando close behind. “When Fernando reached out to me,” Lewis begins, his tone casual but sincere, “and told me about your situation, I knew we had to do something. Talent like yours shouldn’t be held back by anything, least of all by something as ridiculous as a lack of sponsorship.”

You’re still reeling from the fact that Lewis Hamilton knows who you are, let alone that he’s gone out of his way to help you. “I … I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, your voice soft with emotion.

“Don’t worry about that just yet,” Toto says from behind you, his tone light. “Let’s get you settled in first.”

You follow them through the labyrinth of hallways, trying to absorb everything at once. Fernando stays close, a steady presence as you make your way deeper into the facility. There’s a sense of purpose in the air, a kind of quiet determination that’s palpable even as people move around with the calm efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

Eventually, Lewis stops outside a conference room, holding the door open for you to enter first. You step inside, the space cool and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the meticulously kept grounds outside. A large table dominates the center of the room, and as you approach, you notice a folder sitting at one end, the Mercedes logo embossed on the cover.

You hover near the table, not daring to sit until someone tells you to. Fernando catches your hesitation, nudging you gently in the direction of a chair. “Go on,” he says softly. “This is for you.”

You sink into the chair, your heart pounding as you look at the folder in front of you. Lewis and Toto take seats across from you, with Fernando settling in beside you. The atmosphere in the room shifts slightly, becoming more formal but no less supportive.

Toto reaches for the folder, sliding it across the table to you. “This,” he begins, his voice calm and measured, “is an offer to join the Mercedes Junior Team.”

You blink, sure you must have misheard him. “The … Mercedes Junior Team?”

Lewis smiles, nodding. “We believe in your potential,” he says simply. “And we want to give you the opportunity to develop that potential to the fullest.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the folder, your mind racing. This is it. This is the chance you’ve been fighting for, the one you never thought would come, at least not like this. You open the folder, your eyes scanning the first few lines of the contract inside. It’s all real — your name, the terms, everything.

“We know it’s a big decision,” Toto continues, his gaze steady on you. “Take your time to go through everything, ask any questions you have. But know that we’re serious about this. We want you on our team.”

You’re overwhelmed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, but it’s a good kind of pressure, the kind that comes from knowing you’re on the verge of something life-changing. You look up at Fernando, who’s been watching you quietly, and there’s a look of pride in his eyes that makes your chest tighten.

“I don’t … I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis leans forward slightly, his expression gentle but serious. “Start by believing that you deserve this,” he says. “Because you do. And we’re here to help you every step of the way.”

There’s a long silence as you let his words sink in, your fingers tracing the edge of the folder. This is everything you’ve been working toward, everything you’ve sacrificed for, and now that it’s here in front of you, it feels almost too good to be true.

But as you look around the table — at Lewis, Toto, and Fernando — you realize that this isn’t just a dream. It’s real. They’re offering you a future, a chance to prove yourself at the highest level, and they believe in you enough to make it happen.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before meeting their gazes again. “I … I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

“There’s no need for thanks,” Toto says with a small smile. “Just show us what you can do.”

Fernando places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his voice low and encouraging. “You’ve already done the hard part. Now, it’s just time to make it official.”

You nod, the weight of the contract in your hands feeling lighter now. “I’m ready,” you say, your voice steadying with newfound resolve.

Lewis grins. “Welcome to the team.”

***

The months following your signing with Mercedes have been a whirlwind. Every day brings something new — testing, meetings, media obligations, training sessions — but through it all, Fernando remains a constant presence. He’s there for every debrief, every important conversation, and when he’s not by your side, he’s only a phone call away. The mentorship he offers is invaluable, not just because of his experience but because of his belief in you.

Today, though, feels different. The season is winding down, and you’ve been expecting a bit of a lull, maybe even some time to catch your breath. But when Fernando calls you to meet him at a quiet café on the outskirts of town, there’s a certain energy in his voice that you can’t quite place.

You arrive at the café to find Fernando already seated at a table near the window, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head and a cup of coffee in front of him. He looks up as you approach, a small, almost secretive smile playing on his lips.

“Morning,” you greet him, sliding into the seat opposite. “You’re up to something, I can tell.”

Fernando chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee before setting the cup down. “Maybe I am,” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “How are you feeling about next season?”

The question catches you off guard. “Next season? I mean, I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet. There’s still so much to do now.”

He nods, leaning back in his chair as he studies you, a hint of something more serious in his gaze. “Well, it’s time to start thinking about it,” he says, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued as you reach for the envelope. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” Fernando encourages, his eyes never leaving yours.

You do as he says, your fingers careful as you tear open the envelope. Inside is a single sheet of paper, neatly folded. You unfold it slowly, your eyes scanning the top of the page.

Carlin Motorsport — Formula 2 Contract Offer.

Your breath catches, and you look up at Fernando, disbelief written all over your face. “Is this … real?”

“Very real,” he confirms, his smile widening. “They want you for next season. Full-time seat, competitive car, the whole package.”

You’re speechless for a moment, the weight of the offer sinking in. Carlin is one of the top teams in Formula 2, a proven stepping stone to Formula 1, and they want you. It’s everything you’ve been working toward, but the reality of it is almost overwhelming.

“This is …” you start, your voice trailing off as you try to find the right words. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches across the table, placing his hand over yours, his expression softening. “You’ve earned this,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve worked hard, proven yourself, and now it’s time to take the next step.”

You nod, still trying to wrap your head around it all. “But how? I mean, why would they choose me over anyone else? There are so many talented drivers out there …”

Fernando squeezes your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “Because you’re one of the best,” he says simply. “They see it, just like I do. And they know you’re going places.”

You take a deep breath, the reality of it finally starting to settle in. “Carlin … Formula 2 … It’s really happening.”

“It is,” Fernando confirms with a smile. “And you’re ready for it.”

There’s a long pause as you sit there, the contract still in your hands. Fernando watches you carefully, his gaze thoughtful. Then, as if sensing that there’s something more to discuss, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious.

You look up, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden change in his demeanor. “What is it?”

He hesitates for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I’m planning to return to Formula 1 in 2021.”

The news hits you like a bolt of lightning, your eyes widening in shock. “You’re … coming back? To F1?”

Fernando nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes. I’ve been in talks with a few teams, and it looks like everything is lining up for a comeback.”

You’re stunned, your mind racing to catch up with what he’s just said. Fernando Alonso, returning to Formula 1 … it’s huge, and the implications of it start to sink in. “That’s incredible,” you say, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your voice. “But what does that mean for … us? For everything we’ve been working on?”

He’s silent for a moment, his gaze intense as he considers your question. “It means that while I’ll still be around to support you, I won’t be able to be as hands-on as I’ve been. I won’t be able to be your full-time manager anymore.”

The words hit you hard, and you feel a pang of anxiety start to creep in. Fernando’s been your rock, the one who’s guided you through every step of this journey, and the thought of losing that constant presence is unsettling.

“But,” he continues, his tone reassuring, “I’m not leaving you in the lurch. I’ve already started talking to some people, and I’m going to make sure you get a manager who’s the best of the best. Someone who knows the sport inside and out, who can give you everything you need to succeed.”

You nod slowly, trying to process everything he’s telling you. It’s a lot to take in— the offer from Carlin, Fernando’s return to F1, the changes that will come with it — but there’s a part of you that understands. This is the nature of the sport, constantly evolving, constantly moving forward.

“I’m happy for you,” you finally say, your voice sincere. “Really, I am. You deserve to be back in F1, where you belong.”

Fernando smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thank you. And you deserve to be in F2, racing at the front, showing everyone what you’re capable of.”

There’s a pause, the weight of the moment settling over both of you. Then, Fernando’s smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans back in his chair.

“But don’t think this means I’m going to go easy on you,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’ll still be watching, making sure you’re giving it your all.”

You laugh, the tension breaking slightly at his words. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He nods, satisfied, before finishing off his coffee. “Good. Because the hard work isn’t over yet. If anything, it’s just beginning.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of determination settling over you. Fernando’s right — this is just the beginning. The road ahead will be challenging, but you’re ready for it. And with his support, even if it’s from a distance, you know you can handle whatever comes your way.

“Thank you,” you say again, your voice full of gratitude. “For everything.”

Fernando just smiles, standing up from the table and offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a lot to prepare for.”

You take his hand, rising from your seat, and together you leave the café, the future stretching out before you, full of possibilities.

***

The hum of the F2 paddock is a mix of nerves and excitement, a constant undercurrent of energy that seems to electrify the air. It’s the first race of the season, and you can feel it. The mechanics are moving with purpose, checking and double-checking every detail of the car. Engineers are glued to their screens, analyzing data with furrowed brows. And you, in the midst of it all, are the picture of focus — calm on the outside but with a fire in your eyes that tells Fernando you’re ready for this.

He stands a few feet away, leaning casually against the garage wall, but his eyes are on you. Always on you. He’s seen you grow over these past months, watched as you’ve taken every challenge head-on, and now, as you prepare for your first F2 race, he can’t help but feel a surge of pride.

Yuki Tsunoda, your teammate, walks over, helmet in hand. He’s grinning, but there’s a trace of awe in his expression as he glances between you and Fernando. “I still can’t believe it,” Yuki says, shaking his head slightly. “Fernando Alonso, here in our garage, supporting you. It’s surreal.”

You chuckle, giving Yuki a playful nudge with your elbow. “Believe it. He’s stuck with me now.”

Fernando smirks, pushing off the wall and walking over to the two of you. “Yuki, how are you feeling about today?” He asks, his tone friendly but professional.

Yuki straightens up, clearly wanting to impress. “I’m ready. I’ve been looking forward to this all off-season. Just want to get out there and race.”

“Good,” Fernando nods, his eyes sharp as he assesses Yuki. “Remember, the first race sets the tone. Keep your head down, focus on your own performance, and the results will come.”

Yuki nods, absorbing the advice. “And you?” He asks, turning back to you. “First F2 race … How are you feeling?”

You shrug, but there’s a determined glint in your eyes. “Excited. Nervous. Ready. All of it.”

Fernando can’t help but smile at that. He’s seen that look in countless drivers — right before they go on to do something special. “You’ve got this,” he says, his voice low but full of conviction. “Just do what you do best.”

You give him a small, appreciative smile before turning back to the car, where the final preparations are being made. Fernando watches you for a moment longer, feeling the weight of the day. This is a big moment, not just for you, but for him too. He’s invested so much in you, not just as a driver but as a person, and now he’s about to see the fruits of that labor on one of the biggest stages.

Yuki eventually heads back to his side of the garage, leaving you and Fernando in a comfortable silence. He steps closer to you, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “Remember, it’s just another race. Don’t let the pressure get to you. You’ve done this a hundred times before.”

You nod, your expression set with determination. “I know. I just need to stay focused.”

“Exactly,” Fernando agrees, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. “And remember, I’m here. You’re not doing this alone.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between you, the noise of the paddock fading slightly as you take in his words. It’s a reassurance, a reminder that no matter what happens out there, you have someone in your corner who believes in you completely.

The minutes tick by, and soon it’s time for the drivers to head to the grid. The mechanics push your car out of the garage, and you follow, helmet in hand, Fernando right by your side. As you walk, he gives you last-minute reminders, his tone calm but firm, designed to keep you centered.

“Trust your instincts,” he says. “You know the car, you know the track. Let the race come to you.”

You nod, absorbing every word as you approach your car on the grid. The other teams and drivers are milling about, final checks being made before the start. Fernando stands with you by the car, watching as you put on your helmet and climb into the cockpit. There’s a buzz of activity all around, but for a moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

He leans in close, his voice carrying over the sound of the grid. “Remember why you’re here. Show them what you’re made of.”

You glance up at him, your visor reflecting the intense determination in your eyes. “I will.”

And with that, the crew steps back, and it’s just you in the car, the engine roaring to life around you. Fernando takes a few steps back, watching as you complete the formation lap. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation. He’s been in this position countless times, but it’s different when it’s someone you’ve invested so much in.

As the cars line up on the grid, the tension mounts. Fernando’s eyes never leave your car, his mind running through every possible scenario. He knows how unpredictable these races can be, how one small mistake can change everything. But he also knows that you’re ready. He’s seen it in your training, in your focus, in the way you’ve handled every challenge thrown at you.

The lights go out, and the roar of engines fills the air. The race is on, and Fernando’s eyes are locked on the screen, watching as you navigate the chaos of the first few corners. It’s a tight pack, cars jostling for position, but you hold your ground, staying calm and composed even as the pressure builds.

Fernando barely breathes as the laps tick by, his focus entirely on you. There are moments where his heart leaps into his throat — close calls, tight overtakes — but you handle them all with the skill and precision of a seasoned driver. You’re pushing, but not too hard, balancing aggression with caution in a way that impresses even him.

Midway through the race, you find yourself in a battle for position with one of the more experienced drivers. Fernando can see the tension in your driving, the way you’re pushing the car to its limits. But he also sees the intelligence in your approach, the way you’re sizing up your opponent, waiting for the right moment.

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes glued to the screen as you make your move. It’s a daring pass, squeezing through a gap that’s barely there, but you make it stick. Fernando lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re doing it,” he whispers to himself, pride swelling in his chest.

The race continues, the intensity never letting up. There are moments of sheer brilliance, and moments where Fernando’s nerves are stretched to their limits, but through it all, you remain unshaken. Every lap, every corner, you’re proving exactly why you belong here, why Carlin chose you, and why Fernando believes in you so much.

As the race nears its end, you find yourself in a strong position, battling for a spot on the podium. Fernando’s heart pounds in his chest, his hands clenched into fists as he watches the final laps unfold. It’s a nail-biter, the cars ahead of you just within reach, and he can see you pushing, giving it everything you’ve got.

“Come on, come on,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving the screen. “You’ve got this.”

The final lap is a blur of speed and adrenaline, but you’re right there, closing in on the car ahead. Fernando can feel the tension in the air, the entire Carlin garage on edge as they watch you make your move. It’s a daring overtake, one that requires absolute precision, but you nail it, sliding into third place just before the final corner.

Fernando’s heart leaps as you cross the finish line, securing a podium in your very first F2 race. The garage erupts in cheers, but he’s already moving, heading out to meet you as you bring the car back to the pits.

When you climb out of the car, the smile on your face is all he needs to see. You did it. You proved yourself, and in a big way. Fernando is the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice full of pride.

“You were incredible out there,” he says, his words muffled slightly by the cheers around you. “Absolutely incredible.”

You pull back, your eyes shining with excitement. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He shakes his head, his smile wide. “You did this. You took everything you’ve learned and you made it happen. This is just the beginning.”

Yuki comes over, grinning from ear to ear as he claps you on the back. “Third place in your first race? You’re making the rest of us look bad!”

You laugh, the tension of the race finally melting away as you share the moment with your teammate and mentor. But even as you celebrate, Fernando’s mind is already thinking ahead, planning for the future. This is just the first step, and he knows there are many more to come. But for now, he’s content to stand here with you, knowing that you’ve just taken a huge leap forward in your career.

As the celebrations continue around you, Fernando steps back, watching you with a mixture of pride and anticipation. He’s seen something special in you from the start, and today, you proved him right. But he knows this is just the beginning, and he can’t wait to see where this journey takes you

***

Fernando sits at the head of a sleek conference table in a high-rise office overlooking a bustling cityscape. The room is all glass and steel, exuding an air of professionalism and success. It’s the kind of setting where big decisions are made, the kind of setting where lives are changed. He glances at his watch — just a few minutes before you’re supposed to arrive.

To his left is a man in his late forties, dressed in a sharp suit that screams old money and prestige. This is Carlos Mendes, a veteran in the world of motorsport management. Carlos has a reputation for being ruthless when it comes to getting his clients the best deals.

He’s represented world champions, negotiated multimillion-dollar contracts, and navigated the treacherous waters of sponsorships with the skill of a seasoned general. Fernando had carefully chosen Carlos, knowing that you would need someone who could not only protect your interests but also push for the best opportunities.

On Fernando’s right is Sophie Duclair, a high-powered talent agent whose client list reads like a who’s who of global sports and entertainment icons. Sophie, with her sleek bob and impeccably tailored outfit, is known for her ability to secure top-tier endorsement deals that go beyond the traditional boundaries of sports.

Luxury brands, fashion houses, and even Hollywood producers trust her judgment implicitly. She’s the one who can take your rising star and catapult it into a whole different stratosphere.

The door to the conference room opens, and you walk in, dressed casually but with an unmistakable air of confidence. It’s clear you’ve grown more comfortable in these kinds of environments, but there’s still a trace of curiosity in your eyes as you take in the room and the people seated at the table.

“Good to see you,” Fernando says, rising to greet you with a warm smile. He motions to the empty chair next to him. “Take a seat. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

You sit down, glancing at Carlos and Sophie with polite curiosity. Fernando leans back in his chair, folding his hands on the table. “Let me introduce you to Carlos Mendes,” he says, gesturing to the man on his left. “Carlos is one of the top managers in the business. He’s going to help guide your career from here on out, making sure you get the best opportunities on and off the track.”

Carlos nods, his expression serious but welcoming. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says in a deep, authoritative voice. “Fernando has told me a lot about you, and I’ve been following your progress. You’ve got a bright future ahead, and I’m here to make sure you reach your full potential.”

You smile, a mix of gratitude and anticipation in your eyes. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Fernando continues, turning to Sophie. “And this is Sophie Duclair, one of the best talent agents in the industry. Sophie has a knack for securing deals that align perfectly with her clients’ personal brands. She’s here to help you navigate the world of endorsements and partnerships.”

Sophie smiles, her demeanor warm yet professional. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your rise in F2, and I have to say, the opportunities are endless. There are brands out there who are going to want to associate themselves with your story, your talent, and your image.”

You nod, clearly intrigued but still processing the magnitude of what’s happening. Fernando notices the slight furrow in your brow and steps in to guide the conversation.

“Here’s the thing,” Fernando begins, his tone serious but encouraging. “You’ve been fighting against the odds, and that’s what’s made your story so compelling. A lot of people might have seen your gender as an obstacle, but we’re turning it into an asset. You’ve already proven you belong in F2, and with the right guidance, we’re going to show the world that you’re not just a great driver — you’re a game-changer.”

Carlos leans forward slightly, his eyes focused on you. “Exactly. The motorsport world is evolving, and brands want to be associated with that evolution. They want to be seen as forward-thinking, inclusive, and ahead of the curve. You’re in a unique position to offer them that opportunity.”

Sophie picks up the thread seamlessly. “But it’s not just about slapping a logo on your car or your race suit. It’s about aligning with brands that resonate with who you are and where you want to go. That’s where I come in. I’ve been in talks with several companies that are very interested in working with you.”

You look at Fernando, and he gives you an encouraging nod, urging you to speak your mind. “It sounds … amazing,” you begin, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But I want to make sure that whatever deals we make, they’re the right ones. I don’t want to just be a face on an ad — I want to represent something real.”

Carlos smiles, clearly impressed by your maturity. “That’s the right approach. And that’s exactly why we’re here — to make sure that every move we make is strategic and meaningful. You’ve got the talent and the story, and now it’s about building the brand that reflects that.”

Sophie leans back in her chair, crossing her legs as she regards you with a calculating but friendly gaze. “We’ve already secured two deals that I think you’re going to be very happy with,” she says, a hint of excitement in her voice. “The first is with Cartier. They’re looking to expand their presence in the sports world, and they see you as the perfect ambassador for their brand — strong, elegant, and determined.”

Your eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised. “Cartier?” You echo, the name alone carrying a weight of prestige and luxury.

Sophie nods, smiling at your reaction. “That’s right. They want to work with you on a campaign that’s going to be centered around breaking barriers and redefining what it means to be successful. It’s not just about jewelry — it’s about the story you tell when you wear it.”

Fernando watches as you process this, seeing the mix of excitement and caution in your expression. He knows how big this is, and he also knows how important it is for you to feel comfortable with every step of this journey.

“And the second deal?” You ask, your voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Sophie’s smile widens. “That would be with Chanel. They’re launching a new line of sportswear, and they want you to be the face of it. It’s a bold move for them, branching out into a market that’s traditionally been dominated by other brands. But they believe in you, and they believe that you can help them make a statement.”

You lean back in your chair, clearly taking a moment to absorb the magnitude of what’s being offered. Fernando can see the wheels turning in your mind, the careful consideration you’re giving to each opportunity.

“I … I didn’t expect anything like this,” you admit, looking around the table. “It’s incredible, but it’s also a lot to take in.”

Carlos nods, his expression understanding. “It is. But you’re not in this alone. We’re here to guide you, to make sure that every decision you make is the right one for you and your career.”

Fernando leans forward slightly, his voice low and reassuring. “You’ve worked hard to get here. You deserve these opportunities. But like Carlos said, we’re going to make sure that every step you take is the right one. We’re not rushing into anything. We’re building something that’s going to last.”

You look at him, and he can see the trust in your eyes. It’s a trust he’s earned over the months, through every piece of advice, every word of encouragement, every push to make you better. And now, as you sit here on the brink of something huge, he feels a deep sense of pride.

“These are just the first steps,” Sophie says, her tone confident and poised. “There’s so much more we can do. But it’s all going to be on your terms. You’re in control of your image, your brand. We’re just here to help you shape it.”

You take a deep breath, your gaze sweeping over the table, taking in the faces of the people who are now part of your team. “I want to do this right,” you say finally, your voice strong. “I want to be someone people can look up to, someone who represents more than just winning races.”

Fernando smiles, feeling a swell of pride at your words. “And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. We’re just getting started.”

The meeting continues, the conversation shifting to the details of the contracts, the timelines for the campaigns, and the strategies for maximizing your visibility. Throughout it all, Fernando watches you closely, noting the way you handle the discussions with a mix of humility and confidence. It’s clear you’re taking everything in, asking the right questions, making sure you understand every aspect of what’s being presented.

By the time the meeting wraps up, there’s a palpable sense of excitement in the room. The deals with Cartier and Chanel are just the beginning, and everyone knows it. There are more opportunities on the horizon, more doors that are about to open. But for now, it’s about taking the first steps, setting the foundation for what’s to come.

As you rise to leave, Fernando walks you to the door, Carlos and Sophie following close behind. “We’ll be in touch with the final details,” Sophie says, her tone professional but warm. “I’m excited to see where this journey takes us.”

Carlos nods in agreement. “You’ve got a bright future ahead. Let’s make the most of it.”

You thank them both, turning to Fernando with a smile that holds a mix of gratitude and determination. "I couldn’t have done this without you," you say softly.

Fernando shakes his head, his smile reflecting the pride he feels. "You’ve earned every bit of this. Now, let's show the world what you’re capable of."

***

The sun dips low over the suburban skyline, casting a warm golden hue over the backyard where laughter mingles with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation. String lights hang from the trees, swaying gently in the evening breeze, and the faint scent of barbecue lingers in the air. You’re surrounded by familiar faces — family, childhood friends, and the newer ones you’ve made in F2. The mix of old and new feels right, like the pieces of your life are finally coming together.

Fernando stands near the edge of the crowd, leaning casually against a tree as he watches you. He’s been here for hours, blending in with the celebration, though he’s always slightly apart, his presence comforting but never overbearing. He’s wearing one of those half-smiles, the kind that makes it hard to tell if he’s deep in thought or just quietly enjoying the moment.

You catch his eye, and he raises his glass — a silent toast that you return with a small grin before getting pulled back into a conversation with one of your childhood friends. They’re reminiscing about old times, laughing about things that seem so far removed from the high-speed world you now inhabit. It’s nice, grounding even, to remember that you had a life before all of this — a simpler one where the biggest concern was which video game to play after school.

As the night wears on, the crowd begins to thin. Your parents are still mingling, clearly proud of the party they’ve thrown. Your mom’s voice carries across the yard as she gushes to someone about how happy she is that you’ve managed to pay off the second mortgage. It was a weight that they never let you see, but you knew it was there, and being able to lift it was one of the proudest moments you’ve had since stepping into a race car.

Fernando, ever observant, notices the moment your shoulders relax as you hear your mom’s words. He takes a small step forward, knowing that the night is winding down, and he’s been waiting for just the right moment.

Eventually, as the last of your friends hug you goodbye and head out, you find yourself standing near the fire pit, the glow from the dying embers illuminating your face. Fernando approaches, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Enjoying your birthday?” He asks, his voice low and warm, like the crackling fire beside you.

You nod, a content smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, it’s been really great. I didn’t expect so many people to show up.”

“People care about you,” Fernando says simply. “You’ve made quite an impact.”

You shrug, clearly a little shy about the praise. “I’m just glad to have a night to relax with everyone. It’s been a whirlwind.”

Fernando’s smile deepens. He knows how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed, and how rare these moments of peace are for you. “You deserve it. You’ve earned it.”

There’s a beat of silence, comfortable and familiar, before Fernando clears his throat. “I, uh, have something for you.”

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Fernando, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done so much.”

“I know,” he says, his tone a little softer now, as if he’s stepping into more vulnerable territory. “But I wanted to.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box, wrapped in simple but elegant paper. You hesitate for a moment, then take it from his hands, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should.

Curiosity piques as you carefully unwrap the paper and open the box. Inside is a delicate necklace, the pendant a tiny, intricate race helmet studded with a single diamond where the visor would be. It’s not overly flashy, but it’s beautiful and unmistakably meaningful.

You stare at it, speechless, before looking up at Fernando, your eyes wide with surprise and something deeper — something like awe. “Fernando … this is …”

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just … wanted you to have something that reminds you of where you’re headed. You’ve got a bright future, and I wanted to give you something to keep close as you chase it.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, focusing on the necklace instead. You’re not sure what to say — how do you thank someone for something that goes beyond just a gift?

Fernando steps closer, his voice lowering as he continues, “I’ve come to see you as … well, like a daughter, I suppose. Watching you grow, seeing how far you’ve come, it’s been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your heart swells with emotion, and before you can stop yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. The necklace is still clutched in your hand, but all you can focus on is the steady beat of Fernando’s heart against your ear.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.”

Fernando’s arms come around you, holding you close in a way that’s both protective and comforting. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmurs. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. That’s all the thanks I need.”

You stay like that for a moment longer, taking in the warmth and security of the embrace, before finally pulling back. You look up at Fernando, and there’s a connection between you now that goes beyond mentor and protégé — it’s something familial, something lasting.

He gestures to the necklace, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you want some help putting that on?”

You nod, unable to find the words, and hand it to him. He carefully fastens it around your neck, his fingers steady and sure, and when he’s done, you reach up to touch the pendant, feeling its cool metal against your skin.

“Perfect,” Fernando says, stepping back to admire it. “Just like you.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re too kind.”

“No,” he replies, his voice firm but gentle. “Just honest.”

As the fire continues to crackle beside you, the night wrapping around you both like a blanket, you realize that this birthday, this moment, will be one you remember for the rest of your life. Not because of the party or the people, but because of the man standing beside you — the one who believed in you when no one else did, who gave you the push you needed to keep going.

And as you walk back towards the house, the pendant resting against your chest, you know that no matter what happens in the future, you’ll always have this — this connection, this bond, this family you’ve found in the most unexpected place.

***

The noise is deafening as you cross the finish line, but it’s the silence that follows in your mind that makes it real. The world blurs around you; the roar of the engine fades, the cheers from the grandstands become a distant echo. It’s just you and the knowledge that you’ve done it. The chequered flag waves in the distance, a confirmation that you’ve won the F2 championship.

In your rookie season.

The last lap plays on a loop in your mind: the battle with your teammate, the wheel-to-wheel tension that stretched until the final corner, the moment you finally saw a gap and took it. The entire year has been leading up to this, every race, every struggle, every doubt. And now, you’re here. A champion.

The car slows as you pull into the pit lane, your hands shaking on the steering wheel. The radio crackles with voices — your engineer shouting congratulations, the team cheering, but there’s only one voice you really want to hear.

“You did it,” Fernando comes through, calm but with a hint of emotion that he rarely shows. “I knew you could do it.”

A smile breaks across your face, one that you couldn’t suppress even if you tried. “We did it,” you correct him, because it’s true. You’ve always been a team, even when he wasn’t on the track with you.

As you roll into the Carlin garage, the world around you explodes into celebration. Mechanics, engineers, and team members swarm the car, cheering and clapping as they pull you out of the cockpit. You’re immediately wrapped in a dozen hugs, people shouting your name, lifting you off the ground in their excitement.

But even in the chaos, you’re searching for him. And when you finally spot Fernando standing just outside the crowd, his expression is one of pure pride. He doesn’t rush in to join the others, instead, he stays back, letting you have your moment. That’s Fernando, always understanding, always knowing exactly what you need.

You finally push through the throng of well-wishers and make your way over to him. For a moment, the two of you just look at each other, and in that look, there’s a thousand words unspoken.

“Not bad for a rookie,” he finally says, his smile widening.

You laugh, still breathless from the race. “Not bad at all.”

He pulls you into a hug, and this time, you don’t hold back. You cling to him, letting the emotion of the moment wash over you. “Thank you,” you whisper, and you know he understands. This victory is as much his as it is yours.

When you pull back, you see someone else approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s Toto Wolff, towering and imposing as always, but there’s a warmth in his expression that’s almost fatherly. Next to him, Williams Racing team principal Jost Capito, stands with a smile that’s equally as proud.

“Toto?” You ask, surprised. It’s not every day he shows up in the F2 paddock, let alone after a race.

He steps forward, offering his hand. “Congratulations,” he says, his voice steady. “That was an incredible race.”

You shake his hand, still trying to process the fact that he’s here. “Thank you,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jost steps forward, nodding in agreement. “You’ve had an outstanding season. You’ve shown everyone what you’re capable of.”

There’s something in their tone, something that makes your heart race with more than just post-race adrenaline. Fernando catches your eye, giving you a slight nod, as if to say, this is it.

Toto exchanges a look with Jost before continuing, “We’ve been following your progress closely, and we believe you’re ready for the next step.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The next step. It’s what every F2 driver dreams of, but it’s never guaranteed, not even with a championship under your belt. “The next step?” You echo, almost afraid to hope.

Jost steps in, his smile widening. “We want you to race for Williams in Formula 1 next season.”

For a moment, the world stops. You blink, trying to process the words, to make sure you heard him right. Formula 1. They want you to race in F1.

“Next season?” You manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toto nods, his expression serious but encouraging. “Yes. We’ve been in discussions with Williams, and we believe you’re the perfect fit for their team. You’ve proven that you can handle the pressure, and now it’s time to see what you can do on the biggest stage.”

You feel like you’re floating, like this is a dream that you might wake up from at any moment. You turn to Fernando, searching his face for confirmation that this is real. He’s smiling, but there’s a look in his eyes that tells you he’s known about this for a while. He’s always known.

“You’ll be racing in F1,” Fernando says, his voice steady. “You deserve it.”

It’s then that the full weight of what’s happening hits you. F1. The pinnacle of motorsport. And not just racing in F1, but racing alongside the very best in the world. You’ll be on the grid with drivers you’ve looked up to your entire life. Drivers like Lewis Hamilton. And …

Your eyes widen as the realization dawns. Fernando is making his comeback next year. He’s going to be on that grid, too.

“I’ll be racing … with you,” you say, the words barely escaping your lips.

Fernando’s smile is knowing, almost amused. “Yes, you will.”

The thought is almost overwhelming. Not only will you be in F1, but you’ll be competing alongside Fernando, the man who has been your mentor, your guide, your biggest supporter. The man who helped you get to this very moment.

You shake your head, still trying to process it all. “I don’t know what to say.”

Toto places a hand on your shoulder, his grip reassuring. “You don’t need to say anything. Just be ready to show the world what you’re capable of. We’ll handle the rest.”

Jost nods in agreement. “We believe in you. You’ve already proven that you can handle anything that comes your way.”

You glance back at Fernando, and the pride in his eyes is unmistakable. This has been his goal all along — to get you to the top, to see you succeed where so many doubted you could. And now, here you are, about to step into the world of F1.

“I’ll be ready,” you say, your voice stronger now, filled with the determination that’s carried you this far.

Fernando nods, satisfied. “I know you will.”

As Toto and Jost step away to discuss the finer details with the Carlin team, you stand there with Fernando, the enormity of what just happened settling in.

“You knew this was coming, didn’t you?” You ask, giving him a sideways glance.

Fernando shrugs, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I had a feeling. But it was always up to you to make it happen.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

He grins. “And you’re an F1 driver now. Better get used to it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, taking in the victory, the announcement, the future that’s unfolding right before your eyes. It’s been a long road, full of challenges and doubts, but you’ve made it. And now, you’re about to step onto the biggest stage in motorsport, with Fernando right there alongside you.

As you look out at the garage, the Carlin team still buzzing with excitement, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. For the team, for the journey, and most of all, for Fernando — the man who believed in you when no one else did, and who continues to believe in you now.

“Thank you, Fernando,” you say quietly, but with all the sincerity you can muster. “For everything.”

He simply nods, his expression softening. “You’ve earned it.”

And as you stand there, the future stretching out before you, one thing is certain: this is just the beginning.

***

The winter sun hangs low in the sky as you walk along the rocky path that leads to Fernando’s private track in northern Spain. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine trees and the distant murmur of the sea. It’s a world away from the chaos of the paddock, a place where the outside noise fades, leaving only the hum of your thoughts and the weight of what’s to come. The off-season is supposed to be a time to rest, to recharge, but this year, it’s different. There’s no time to lose — not with your first Formula 1 season looming on the horizon.

Fernando walks beside you, his stride as confident and unhurried as ever. His presence is steadying, a reminder that you’re not alone on this journey. He’s been here before, countless times, and now he’s passing on everything he knows to you. This winter isn’t just about physical training; it’s about mastering the mental side of the sport — the side that can make or break a career in F1.

He stops at the edge of the track, the silence between you stretching out as you both take in the view. The asphalt is cold and unyielding, winding through the landscape like a dark ribbon, a challenge waiting to be conquered.

“You know the driving part,” Fernando says, breaking the silence. His voice is calm, measured, but there’s an intensity to it that commands attention. “You’ve proven that you can handle the car, the speed, the competition. But F1 is more than just driving. It’s a mental game. It’s about being the predator, not the prey.”

You nod, knowing he’s right. The physical demands of F1 are immense, but the mental demands are even greater. The pressure, the mind games, the need to be perfect in a sport where perfection is almost impossible — it’s all part of what makes F1 the pinnacle of motorsport.

“Today, we start with the basics,” Fernando continues, his gaze fixed on the track. “How to be a track terror.”

A track terror. The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. To be feared on the track, to have your competitors second-guessing themselves before they even line up on the grid — that’s what Fernando is talking about. It’s not just about being fast; it’s about being relentless, unyielding, the kind of driver who forces others into mistakes.

“You don’t have to be the fastest in every session,” Fernando explains, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “You just have to make them think you are. Get in their heads. Make them question their own pace, their own decisions.”

He starts to walk along the edge of the track, and you follow, listening closely. “Every driver has a breaking point,” he says. “You need to learn how to find it. Sometimes it’s in their driving — how they react under pressure, how they handle wheel-to-wheel combat. Sometimes it’s off the track — in how they deal with the media, how they cope with setbacks. Your job is to figure out what that breaking point is and use it.”

You absorb his words, understanding that this is the difference between good drivers and great ones. It’s not just about talent; it’s about psychology, about knowing how to manipulate a situation to your advantage.

“And once you find that breaking point?” You ask, wanting to hear it from him.

Fernando stops and turns to face you, his eyes sharp, calculating. “You exploit it,” he says simply. “You push them until they crack. But you have to be smart about it. There’s a fine line between pushing them to the edge and pushing yourself over it.”

His words are blunt, but you know there’s truth in them. F1 isn’t just a sport, it’s a battle, a war of wills as much as it is a test of speed.

“Take the first corner,” Fernando says, pointing to the sharp turn at the end of the straight. “It’s where a lot of races are won or lost. You need to establish yourself early. Show them that you’re not afraid to fight for position, but also that you’re in control. That’s key — being aggressive, but controlled.”

You nod, envisioning the scenarios he’s describing. You’ve raced at high levels before, but F1 is different. The stakes are higher, the margins narrower. There’s no room for error, but there’s also no room for hesitation.

“How do you know when to cross the line?” You ask, thinking back to the times when Fernando has pushed the limits, often to the point where others questioned his tactics.

He gives a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You learn,” he says. “Sometimes by making mistakes. But the key is to learn from them quickly. You have to know when to back off and when to push harder. It’s about balance, about knowing your own limits as much as theirs.”

He pauses, his gaze locking with yours. “And sometimes, you have to cross the line. But when you do, you do it with intent, and you don’t get caught. You make sure it looks like a mistake, something that just happened in the heat of the moment. And you never apologize for it.”

There’s a chill in the air, but you barely notice it, your mind focused on every word. This is what you’ve needed, what you’ve been missing. The edge that will set you apart in a field of the best drivers in the world.

“What about mind games?” You ask, curious to know more about how to handle the psychological warfare that comes with F1.

Fernando chuckles, a sound that’s both amused and knowing. “Mind games are everything,” he says. “They start long before you even get in the car. It’s about how you carry yourself, how you interact with the other drivers, with the media. You have to control the narrative, make them think what you want them to think.”

He starts walking again, this time towards the small building at the edge of the track where the team usually sets up. “The media is a powerful tool,” he continues. “You can use them to your advantage, but you have to be careful. Give them just enough to create doubt in your competitors’ minds, but not enough to give anything away.”

You think back to the countless press conferences you’ve watched, where drivers like Fernando have used their words as weapons, creating stories that unsettle their rivals. It’s a game within a game, and you’re starting to see how deep it goes.

“Never let them see you sweat,” Fernando adds, his tone more serious now. “Even when things aren’t going your way, you have to project confidence. Make them think you have everything under control, even when you don’t. And when they stumble, when they show weakness, you pounce.”

The building looms ahead, the door slightly ajar. Fernando pushes it open, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room with a table, a few chairs, and a whiteboard covered in notes and diagrams. It’s a war room, a place where strategies are formed, where victories are planned.

Fernando gestures for you to sit, and you do, feeling the weight of what’s to come. He takes a seat across from you, his expression now all business.

“Let’s talk about racecraft,” he says, leaning forward. “You need to understand that F1 isn’t just about speed. It’s about strategy, about thinking two, three steps ahead of everyone else. You need to know when to attack and when to hold back, when to take risks and when to play it safe.”

He starts sketching out scenarios on the whiteboard, explaining different race strategies, how to read your competitors, how to manage your tires, your fuel, your energy. It’s a crash course in F1 tactics, and you absorb every detail, knowing that this knowledge could be the difference between winning and losing.

“You’ll have a team behind you,” Fernando says, his eyes never leaving the board as he continues to write. “But you’re the one in the car. You’re the one who has to make the decisions in real-time. Trust your instincts, but also trust your preparation. The more you know, the better equipped you’ll be to handle whatever comes your way.”

He turns back to you, his expression serious. “And remember, F1 is a long game. It’s not just about one race, or even one season. It’s about building a career, about consistently performing at a high level. You have to pace yourself, know when to push and when to hold back. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You nod, the enormity of what he’s saying sinking in. This isn’t just about your rookie season; it’s about laying the foundation for a long and successful career. And with Fernando guiding you, you know you’re in the best possible hands.

The session goes on, the hours slipping away as you discuss everything from race strategies to media tactics, from how to handle pressure to how to deal with setbacks. Fernando doesn’t sugarcoat anything; he tells you the harsh realities of the sport, the challenges you’ll face, the sacrifices you’ll have to make. But he also gives you the tools to overcome them, to not just survive in F1, but to thrive.

By the time the sun starts to set, casting long shadows across the track, you feel a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. It’s been an intense day, but you know it’s exactly what you needed. Fernando has pushed you, challenged you, but he’s also given you the confidence to believe that you belong in this world, that you can succeed.

As you walk back towards the main house, the sky now a deep orange, Fernando falls into step beside you. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that comes from a shared understanding, a mutual respect that has grown over time.

After a while, Fernando breaks the silence with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know,” he begins, his tone light but with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “I’ve been called many things in my career. Champion, legend … war criminal.”

You look at him, caught between a laugh and a raised eyebrow. “War criminal?”

He chuckles, shrugging casually. “Not literally, of course. But some of my tactics, let’s say, weren’t always appreciated by everyone. I was willing to do whatever it took to win — sometimes crossing lines that others wouldn’t dare touch.”

You smile, catching on to his meaning. “And you think I’m ready to follow in your footsteps?”

Fernando’s smirk widens. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. F1 isn’t a game for the faint-hearted. It’s for those who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty when it counts. Just remember … there’s no shame in doing what it takes to survive. And thrive.”

His words hang in the cool evening air, and as you both continue walking, you feel a sense of resolve settle within you. Fernando must notice it too because he gives you a sideways glance, the glint still in his eyes. “Just don’t forget who taught you all this when they start throwing accusations your way.”

***

The Bahrain night sky looms overhead, blanketing the circuit in a velvety darkness punctuated by the glaring lights of the paddock. The roar of engines rumbles through the air as teams buzz with last-minute preparations. Mechanics scramble, engineers analyze data, and drivers slip into their zones. The first race of the season carries a unique kind of tension, a palpable energy that’s almost electric. But amidst all the chaos, Fernando moves with calm confidence as he weaves through the pit lane, eyes scanning for one person.

He finds you standing by the Williams garage, helmet in hand, gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if trying to absorb the magnitude of the moment. It’s your first F1 race, and the weight of it all is evident in the slight furrow of your brow, the focused set of your jaw.

Fernando walks up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Hey,” he says, his voice cutting through the noise like a sharp blade. “Nervous?”

You turn to face him, a mix of emotions swirling in your eyes — excitement, determination, and yes, a hint of nerves. “A little,” you admit. “It’s different from F2. Bigger.”

Fernando nods, understanding all too well. “It is bigger. The stakes are higher, the pressure’s heavier. But you’ve got this.”

You nod, though your grip on the helmet tightens. “I know. I just need to keep my head in the right place.”

Fernando’s eyes narrow, the glint of the night’s floodlights reflecting in them as he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “Remember what we talked about in Spain. You’re not here to play nice. You’re here to win. You’re here to make them regret ever doubting you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as his words sink in. This is the Fernando you’ve come to know so well — the ruthless competitor who sees racing as a battlefield, where only the most cunning and unrelenting survive. He’s drilled that mentality into you, reminding you time and time again that the track is no place for mercy.

“You’re not just a driver,” he continues, his tone growing more intense. “You’re a track terror. Make them fear you. Take every opportunity, even if it means forcing them into a mistake. Be aggressive. Be relentless. And if they try to intimidate you-”

“I intimidate them back,” you finish for him, the determination in your voice now matching his.

Fernando’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly pleased. “Exactly. Make them question if they even belong out there with you.”

As he speaks, Nicholas Latifi, your teammate, walks by on his way to his side of the garage. His steps falter when he overhears the tail end of Fernando’s words.

“… If you see an opening, take it. Don’t give them a second to breathe. Push them out of their comfort zone, and when they’re scrambling, that’s when you strike. Hard.”

Latifi’s eyes widen in alarm as he processes what Fernando is saying. He hesitates, clearly debating whether he should approach or back away slowly. Ultimately, he chooses the latter, retreating with a hurried, nervous glance over his shoulder.

You notice Latifi’s reaction and can’t help but laugh. “I think you might’ve scared him off.”

Fernando chuckles, a low, almost devious sound. “Good. Less competition for you.” Then, with a more serious edge, he adds, “He’s not your concern. You’re here for the big players. And don’t forget, every race is an opportunity to show them what you’re made of. Especially the ones who think you don’t deserve to be here.”

You nod, the nerves from earlier replaced by a rising sense of purpose. Fernando’s words have a way of lighting a fire inside you, a fire that burns hotter with every passing second. The crowd noise, the hum of engines, the flashing lights — all of it fades away until there’s only the track and the promise of what lies ahead.

Fernando steps back, giving you space but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “Tonight, you’re going to prove that you’re not just another rookie. You’re a force to be reckoned with. And you’re going to do it with style.”

You smirk, the corners of your mouth curving upward as confidence surges through you. “With style?”

“Absolutely,” Fernando replies, his own smirk widening. “Remember, there’s a fine line between genius and insanity on the track. And you’re going to walk it like it’s a tightrope.”

You slip your helmet on, the visor clicking into place as Fernando’s words echo in your mind. The world outside may be chaotic, but inside your helmet, it’s a sanctuary — a place where you can focus, where every piece of advice, every lesson Fernando has drilled into you, comes together.

He watches you for a moment, pride evident in his eyes. He’s seen your growth, your transformation from a talented driver into something much more formidable. He knows you’re ready for this.

“Now go out there,” he says, voice clear and commanding, “and make them remember your name.”

With a final nod, you turn towards your car, the sleek Williams machine waiting for you. The pit crew is already in position, and the clock is ticking down. But before you step in, Fernando adds one last thing.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he says, catching your attention. You look back at him, and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Terrorize everyone out there … except me.”

You laugh, the sound muffled by your helmet, but the sentiment is clear. “No promises.”

Fernando grins, crossing his arms as he watches you settle into the cockpit. The familiar sounds of the car coming to life fill the air, and the anticipation builds. The lights above the pit lane begin their countdown, and you take a deep breath, centering yourself for what’s to come.

As you drive out onto the track for the formation lap, Fernando steps back, his eyes following your car as it weaves between the other machines, each one a potential target, each one a stepping stone towards the top. He knows you’re ready, knows that tonight is just the beginning of what promises to be an incredible journey.

He’s proud of you, not just as a driver, but as the competitor you’ve become under his guidance. And as you line up on the grid, the lights glowing red above, Fernando’s final words echo in your mind.

Make them remember your name.

The lights go out, and the race begins.

***

The Bahrain circuit is still buzzing with energy even after the race has ended. The floodlights cast a bright, artificial glow over the paddock as drivers, engineers, and media personnel move about, some celebrating, others reflecting on the night’s events. The humid night air is thick with the scent of burning rubber and engine exhaust, a familiar and oddly comforting smell to those who live and breathe motorsport.

Fernando stands in the media pen, his eyes fixed on you as you field questions from a group of eager reporters. He’s barely listening to the reporter in front of him, who’s rattling off questions about his own race. He finished just outside the points, but it doesn’t bother him much. Tonight, his focus isn’t on his own performance but on yours.

You’re animated, your eyes bright, still riding the adrenaline high from the race. You finished ninth — an impressive debut for any rookie, especially in a Williams. Fernando watches as you handle the questions with ease, a slight smile playing on his lips. The way you stand, the way you speak, there’s a confidence there that wasn’t present when he first met you. He sees in you a reflection of his younger self, and it fills him with a quiet pride.

“Fernando,” the reporter in front of him says, trying to regain his attention. “Can you tell us about your strategy today?”

Fernando barely hears the question, his attention still on you. You’re laughing at something a reporter just asked, and he catches a glimpse of that mischievous glint in your eyes — the same one he’s seen countless times in his own reflection. He can tell you’re about to say something memorable, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

“Fernando?” the reporter prompts again, sounding slightly annoyed now.

“Hmm?” Fernando finally acknowledges the reporter, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. “What was that?”

“Your strategy today — what was the thinking behind it?”

“Strategy? Oh, yes, the strategy,” Fernando replies absentmindedly, waving his hand dismissively. “You know, just the usual. Push when you can, hold back when you must.” His answers are automatic, but his mind is elsewhere.

The reporter blinks, clearly unimpressed with the vague response, but before he can ask a follow-up question, Fernando’s attention is fully captured by what you’re saying.

A journalist standing in front of you, wearing a press lanyard and holding a recorder close to your face, asks, “Can you walk us through that incredible overtake on Sebastian Vettel? It looked like you had no fear going up against a four-time world champion.”

You smile, a knowing look in your eyes, and then you glance over at Fernando.

“I knew he would hit the brakes,” you say, loud enough for him to hear. You pause for dramatic effect, and then with a wink in Fernando’s direction, you continue, “Because he has a wife and three kids waiting for him at home.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before the reporters around you burst into laughter. The reference to Fernando’s famous quip about Michael Schumacher years ago is unmistakable, and it’s clear that the media eats it up. But more importantly, Fernando hears it, and his chest swells with pride.

The reporter in front of Fernando raises an eyebrow, curious now about what’s just been said. “Looks like she’s learned a thing or two from you,” he comments.

Fernando finally turns to the reporter, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Yes, she has. More than she knows.”

He watches as you continue the interview, your demeanor composed, yet playful. The way you handle the press is impressive — calm, confident, but with just the right amount of charm to keep them on your side. You’re not just a racer; you’re a showman, someone who understands that Formula 1 is as much about performance off the track as it is on it.

Fernando catches snippets of your conversation, listening as you describe the overtake in more detail. “Seb’s a great driver, no doubt about it. But in that moment, I knew I had him. I could see it in his body language. He was playing it safe, so I took my chance.”

“And what was going through your mind when you made the move?” Another journalist asks.

You pause for a moment, considering the question. Then, with a smirk, you say, “I was thinking, ‘What would Fernando do?’ And then I went for it.”

Fernando chuckles to himself, shaking his head slightly. He can’t help but feel a surge of pride. Not because you’ve imitated him, but because you’ve made the decision to be bold, to take risks, and to trust your instincts. That’s what separates the good drivers from the great ones — the willingness to seize the moment, to act decisively.

You finish up your interview, the reporters gradually dispersing to chase down other drivers. Fernando finally gives his full attention to the reporter in front of him, who’s still trying to get something meaningful out of him.

“Fernando, about your race …” the reporter begins again.

But Fernando is already moving, stepping around the man with a polite but firm nod. “Excuse me,” he says, cutting the interview short. There’s someone far more important he needs to talk to right now.

He strides over to you, your helmet now tucked under your arm as you chat casually with one of the team engineers. You spot him approaching and flash him a smile.

“Hey,” you say as he reaches you. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I did,” Fernando replies, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. “You’ve got quite the sense of humor.”

“Learned from the best,” you quip, giving him a playful nudge.

Fernando laughs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually use that line, but I’m glad you did. The media loves a good story, and you just gave them one.”

You shrug, your smile widening. “Figured I’d give them something to talk about. Plus, it’s not every day you get to pass a guy like Seb.”

“And you did it with style,” Fernando adds, his voice filled with admiration. “You handled yourself perfectly out there, both on track and with the press. You’re making your mark.”

The engineer standing next to you clears his throat, clearly not wanting to interrupt but feeling the need to acknowledge Fernando’s presence. “Great job out there today,” he says, offering a handshake.

“Thanks,” Fernando replies, shaking the man’s hand. “But today’s all about her,” he adds, nodding in your direction.

The engineer nods in agreement before excusing himself, leaving you and Fernando alone in the now quieter part of the paddock. The sounds of celebration and interviews still echo in the background, but here, in this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

“You know,” Fernando says after a beat, “I’ve never been prouder.”

You look at him, surprised by the raw emotion in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirms. “Seeing you out there today … it reminded me why I fell in love with racing in the first place. The passion, the drive, the thrill of the fight. You have all of that, and more.”

Your smile softens, touched by his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You did it because you’re a damn good driver,” Fernando corrects, though there’s a warmth in his tone. “But I’m glad I could be a part of your journey.”

You both stand there for a moment, the enormity of what you’ve achieved settling in. Ninth place in your first race is no small feat, especially in a car that everyone had written off as uncompetitive. But you’ve proven them wrong, and you’ve done it in a way that’s uniquely your own.

“Next time, though,” Fernando says, a teasing lilt in his voice, “let’s aim for top five.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No pressure, right?”

“Never,” he replies with a grin. “Just a challenge.”

***

Fernando leans casually against the side of the Alpine motorhome, arms crossed, eyes scanning the paddock. The next season’s first race is in a few days, and the energy around the circuit is electric, buzzing with the anticipation of new beginnings. He’s just finished an interview, the usual media rounds, when he spots you approaching, your new Mercedes gear a stark contrast to the sea of blues and pinks around you.

“Ah, there you are,” Fernando greets with a grin as you draw closer. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

You tilt your head slightly, curious. “Who?”

Fernando pushes off the motorhome, beckoning you to follow as he leads you around to the back, where a young reserve driver is checking his phone, leaning casually against the wall. The kid looks up as you approach, his expression polite, maybe a touch reserved, but there’s an unmistakable spark of intelligence in his eyes.

“Oscar,” Fernando calls out, “this is her.”

Oscar Piastri straightens up, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand with a shy but confident smile. He’s calm, almost too calm for someone his age, but there’s a warmth there, something genuine. You can’t help but notice how composed he is, how his eyes seem to study you without making you feel scrutinized.

You shake his hand, offering a cool smile in return. “Likewise. I’ve heard good things.”

Oscar chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head. “Hopefully, I can live up to them.”

The three of you chat for a while, exchanging pleasantries about the upcoming season, racing, the usual stuff. Oscar is polite, measured in his responses, but there’s a softness to him that you hadn’t expected. It’s like he’s quietly confident, but without the brashness that usually comes with it. Fernando watches the interaction closely, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he notes the way your demeanor shifts ever so slightly around Oscar — more guarded, maybe, but intrigued.

Eventually, Oscar glances at his watch and excuses himself, mentioning something about a debrief he needs to attend. You nod, maintaining your composed exterior, and watch him walk back towards the Alpine motorhome before turning to Fernando.

“Polite cat vibes,” you murmur almost to yourself, a hint of amusement in your voice. Fernando raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“What was that?” He asks, although there’s a knowing look in his eyes. He’s been around long enough to pick up on these things.

You roll your eyes playfully, but there’s a lightness in your expression that wasn’t there before. “I said, polite cat vibes. You know, like when a cat is super well-behaved, but you just know there’s something more going on behind those eyes?”

Fernando laughs, a genuine, hearty sound that makes a few heads turn in your direction. “So, you think Oscar is a cat?”

“Well, not literally,” you reply, grinning. “It’s just … he’s got this thing, you know? Like he’s really nice, but you can tell he’s got claws if he needs them. And he’s so … calm. I just want to pinch his cheeks and cuddle him.”

Fernando’s laugh turns into a full-blown chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re smitten, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you say, feigning nonchalance as you fold your arms across your chest. “But it’s just … he’s different. Not in a bad way, just-”

“Different,” Fernando finishes for you, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get it. But don’t let that cloud your judgment on track.”

You shoot him a look. “Please. I’m not a rookie, and besides, I’m at Mercedes now. I’ve got bigger things to focus on than cute cats.”

Fernando smiles, but there’s a serious undertone to his next words. “Just remember, this is Formula 1. There’s no room for distractions, no matter how polite or cute they might be.”

You nod, understanding the weight behind his words, but there’s still a twinkle in your eye as you glance back in the direction Oscar disappeared. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

“Good,” Fernando replies, clapping you on the back. “Because I’m not going to let you slack off, not even for a second.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you retort, smirking. There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you, the kind that only comes from mutual respect and understanding.

But Fernando can’t resist one last jab. “Don’t go soft on him, okay? I’ve got my eye on you.”

You roll your eyes again but with a fond smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Of course,” Fernando grins. “It’s part of my charm.”

You laugh, the sound bright and clear in the busy paddock, and Fernando can’t help but feel a swell of pride. You’ve come so far, and he’s been there every step of the way, watching you grow not just as a driver but as a person. There’s a part of him that’s protective, sure, but there’s also a part that’s thrilled to see you standing on your own two feet, ready to take on whatever comes your wa— even if it’s an Australian polite cat.

“Let’s get out of here,” Fernando says finally, leading the way back to the Mercedes motorhome. “We’ve got a race to win this weekend, and I don’t want any distractions.”

You follow him, but there’s a spring in your step that wasn’t there before, and Fernando notices. He doesn’t say anything, though, just smiles to himself. You’re going to be just fine, he thinks, more than fine.

As you walk together, side by side, you can’t help but glance back once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Maybe, just maybe, this season is going to be full of surprises. And Fernando? Well, he’s ready for whatever comes next, as long as you are too.

***

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vineyard where the ceremony is taking place. Rows of chairs are lined up neatly on the manicured lawn, all facing a simple yet elegant archway draped in white fabric and adorned with soft blush roses. The air is filled with the quiet murmur of guests settling in, the occasional laugh breaking through the serene atmosphere.

Fernando adjusts his tie, glancing around with a mixture of pride and disbelief. How did they get here? It seems like only yesterday he was meeting you for the first time, a determined young driver who refused to be underestimated. Now, here you are, standing at the altar, poised to marry the man you’ve chosen to spend your life with.

Fernando is seated in the front row, just to the left of the aisle, with Mark Webber by his side. The two exchange knowing smiles as the ceremony begins, each lost in their own thoughts. Mark has watched Oscar grow from a promising young talent into a man of integrity and strength, much like Fernando has done with you. There’s a quiet understanding between them, a mutual respect that goes beyond words.

As the officiant begins to speak, Fernando leans over slightly, catching Mark’s eye. “I guess this makes us in-laws,” he whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Mark chuckles softly, nodding. “Seems like it. Didn’t see this coming back when we were racing, did we?”

“Not at all,” Fernando replies with a smile, glancing back at the altar where you and Oscar stand, hand-in-hand. “But I’m glad it did.”

The vows are simple, heartfelt, and deeply personal. Oscar goes first, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“From the moment I met you,” Oscar begins, his eyes locked on yours, “I knew you were different. You challenged me, inspired me, and made me want to be a better person. In a world that often felt overwhelming, you were my calm, my constant. Today, I promise to stand by your side, through every victory and every defeat. I promise to support your dreams as if they were my own, to lift you up when you’re down, and to love you unconditionally, now and forever.”

There’s a brief pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with the depth of his sincerity. When it’s your turn, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Oscar,” you begin, your voice clear and strong, “You were the unexpected surprise in my life, the calm in my storm. From the moment we met, I knew you were special. You’ve been my partner on and off the track, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. Today, I promise to cherish every moment we have together, to grow with you, and to always be there for you, no matter what. I promise to love you with all that I am, and all that I will ever be. You are my heart, my soul, and my everything.”

Fernando feels a lump in his throat as you finish. He’s never been one to get emotional, but today, sitting here, listening to you pour your heart out, he can’t help but feel a surge of pride and love. He remembers the teenage girl who had to fight for every opportunity, the young woman who never gave up, and now, the bride standing before him, ready to take on the next chapter of her life.

The officiant speaks again, guiding you and Oscar through the final steps of the ceremony. When it’s time for the rings, Mark reaches into his pocket, retrieving Oscar’s band with a small, proud smile. Fernando does the same for you, his hands steady as he hands over the ring you will soon place on Oscar’s finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” you both say, sliding the rings onto each other’s fingers. The moment is profound, sealing your commitment not just in words, but in action.

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant finally announces, and there’s a collective sigh of happiness from the gathered crowd as Oscar leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both tender and full of promise.

Applause erupts, and as you and Oscar turn to face your family and friends, hands still entwined, Fernando catches your eye. There’s something unspoken between you, a bond that goes beyond blood, beyond words. You smile at him, and he nods in return, his chest swelling with emotion.

The ceremony concludes, and guests begin to make their way to the reception area, where a beautifully decorated marquee awaits. The air is filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses as everyone mingles, basking in the joy of the occasion.

The second dance is a traditional one with your father. You sway gently in his arms as he whispers words of wisdom, of pride, and of love. The moment is touching, a reminder of the family that has always stood behind you, even when the road was hard.

When the song ends, you hug your father tightly, thanking him for everything. But as the music transitions into something new, you catch Fernando’s eye across the room. There’s a moment of hesitation, but then you make your way towards him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Nando,” you say softly as you reach him, “would you join me for a dance?”

For a brief moment, Fernando is taken aback. He’s always seen you as a strong, independent force — someone who has always forged their own path. But in this moment, he realizes just how much you’ve come to mean to him, how deeply intertwined your lives have become.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You nod, your eyes shining with emotion. “You’ve been like a father to me. I couldn’t imagine today without sharing this moment with you.”

Fernando swallows hard, nodding as he takes your hand. The two of you move to the center of the dance floor, the music soft and slow. As you begin to dance, there’s a sense of calm that settles over you both, a quiet understanding that needs no words.

“I’ve watched you grow,” Fernando says after a few moments, his voice low so only you can hear, “into one of the best drivers I’ve ever known, but more than that … into an incredible person. I’m so proud of you, more than I can ever say.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back, smiling up at him. “Thank you. For everything. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“You would’ve found your way,” he replies, his tone firm. “You always had it in you. I just gave you a little push.”

“A little?” You tease, and he laughs, the sound filled with warmth.

As the song comes to an end, Fernando pulls you into a tight hug, his hand resting protectively on the back of your head. “Remember, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“I know,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. “And I’ll always be here for you too.”

***

The antiseptic scent of the hospital hits Fernando the moment he steps into the delivery wing, mingling with the distant beeps of monitors and the hushed whispers of medical staff. It’s a familiar environment, yet so foreign to him. He’s used to the adrenaline rush of the pit lane, the roar of engines, the calculated chaos of racing — but this, this is something entirely different. He’s been in countless high-pressure situations, but none have ever felt like this.

As he makes his way down the hallway, his heart beats just a little faster than usual, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of Oscar, and of the tiny new life that’s just come into the world. When he reaches the door of your room, he hesitates for the briefest of moments, his hand hovering over the door handle.

It’s not that he’s nervous — Fernando Alonso doesn’t get nervous — but there’s something about this moment that feels monumental, like the start of a new chapter in a book he didn’t even realize he was writing.

He pushes the door open slowly, stepping into the room with a soft smile. The room is bathed in a warm, gentle light, far removed from the harsh brightness of the hallway. It’s quiet, peaceful, with only the faint hum of machinery and the soft breaths of the newborn breaking the silence.

You’re lying in the bed, looking tired but radiant, with a tiny bundle cradled in your arms. Oscar is beside you, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder, his eyes filled with awe and love. When you see Fernando, your face lights up, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, there’s a warmth in your smile that makes his heart swell.

“Fernando,” you say softly, your voice hoarse but filled with joy. “Come meet him.”

He steps closer, his eyes drawn to the small figure in your arms. The baby is tiny, impossibly so, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, with a tuft of dark hair peeking out. Fernando’s breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the baby, his heart pounding in a way that’s both unfamiliar and entirely overwhelming.

“He’s perfect,” Fernando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar grins, nodding in agreement. “We think so too.”

You shift slightly, holding the baby out toward Fernando. “Would you like to hold him?”

For a moment, Fernando hesitates. He’s held championship trophies, gripped the steering wheel at speeds that would make others blanch, but this? This is different. This is fragile, delicate, something that requires a gentleness he’s not sure he possesses. But when he sees the trust in your eyes, he nods, carefully taking the baby into his arms.

The weight is nothing — featherlight, almost — but it’s enough to make his hands tremble just the slightest bit. He cradles the baby close, his eyes wide as he studies the tiny features: the small nose, the delicate eyelids, the impossibly small fingers curled into little fists. The baby stirs slightly, his mouth opening in a silent yawn before settling back into a peaceful sleep.

“What’s his name?” Fernando asks, his voice thick with emotion.

You exchange a glance with Oscar before looking back at Fernando, your smile widening. “His name is Theodore,” you say softly, “Theodore Fernando Piastri.”

Fernando’s breath catches, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he’s speechless, his mind struggling to process what he’s just heard.

“Fernando?” He repeats, his voice barely audible.

You nod, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We wanted to honor you. You’ve been like a father to me, and now … now you’re going to be a part of his life too. It just felt right.”

Fernando stares at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride, love, and something else — something deeper, something he’s never quite felt before. He looks down at Theodore, his namesake, and for the first time in a long while, he feels his eyes prick with tears.

“You … you didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice choked with emotion.

“But we wanted to,” Oscar says, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve done so much for us, for Y/N. It’s our way of saying thank you.”

Fernando swallows hard, nodding as he blinks back the tears threatening to spill over. He’s always prided himself on his control, on his ability to keep his emotions in check, but this — this is something else entirely. This is a depth of feeling he wasn’t prepared for.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice thick. “It means … it means more to me than you can ever know.”

He looks back down at Theodore, his heart full to bursting. The baby stirs again, his tiny fingers twitching, and Fernando smiles, the tears finally spilling over as he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Grandpa Nando,” you say suddenly, your voice filled with affection. “That’s what we’re going to call you. How do you feel about that?”

Fernando lets out a laugh, the sound watery and full of joy. “I think I can get used to that,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. “Grandpa Nando. I like it.”

You smile at him, your eyes soft with affection. “I’m glad. You’ve been a father figure to me, and now … now you get to be a grandfather to him.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the weight of the moment settling over all of you. Fernando can’t stop staring at Theodore, can’t stop marveling at the tiny life in his arms. He’s held many titles in his life — champion, driver, mentor — but this, this feels different. This feels like the most important role he’s ever played.

As he stands there, cradling the tiny life in his arms, he feels a sense of peace settle over him. This is where he’s meant to be, here with you, with Oscar, with Theodore. He’s not just a mentor anymore; he’s family. And that, more than anything, is the greatest victory he’s ever achieved.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Fernando carefully hands Theodore back to you, his heart heavy with emotion. You take your son into your arms, holding him close as you smile up at Fernando, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “For everything. For being there for me, for guiding me, for … for being a part of our lives.”

Fernando shakes his head, a small, tearful smile on his lips. “No, thank you. You’ve given me more than I ever could have imagined. You — you and Oscar, and now Theodore — you’re my family. And there’s nothing more important to me than that.”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, connected by something deeper than words, deeper than racing, deeper than anything Fernando has ever known.

This is what it means to be family, he realizes. This is what it means to love, to care, to be there for each other, no matter what. And as he stands there, his heart full to bursting, he knows that this, more than any championship, more than any victory on the track, is what truly matters.

This is his greatest achievement.

2K notes View Post

that-jax

3 years ago

White Love

iceprince!hongjoong x fireprincess!reader

genre: fantasy, fluff, angst, hongjoong being an absolute flirt-

word count: ~24k

synopsis: there seems to be an eternal winter set in wonderland caused by the ice prince hongjoong, and you- the fire princess who has been laying low for a while- set out to end it. what you don't expect is to find him freezing to death trapped in a tower, and as you save him, you find out that the mages in wonderland are uprising to end the original bloodline- titled prince and princesses. creating a small team with your childhood friend seonghwa and a water mage yunho, you and hongjoong fight against the threat to your life while uncovering secrets and finding unexpected friends and love.

You've had enough of the cold.

You didn't hate winter- it used to be your favourite time of the year, especially the part where you'd brew yourself some coffee and burn your tongue while you sat out in the snow, gloved hands both warm from the cup of coffee in your hand but freezing because of the chilly air.

You loved snow, you loved the white blanket of cloud on earth, and you loved sitting in front of the fire- something you really couldn't do the rest of the year. You loved the cloudy skies and the cool palette of colours that came only in winter. You also loved cuddling to your friends or cats or dogs in winter, putting a hand in someone's pocket and warm both your hands, playing with someone and shoving ice down their back, earning satisfied screams as you giggled and ran away, making snowman and snow animals and having a snowball fight.

But this time, the winter wasn't ending- it had been well past the time for spring to arrive. The trees were still bare, lakes still frozen and it felt like the temperature was dropping every passing day. It should have been summer by now, but nobody dared complain.

It was because of him.

People were careful when they called his name or talked about him- they didn't want the wind to carry their complains to his ears in case he got angry- which couldn't end well. It was already cold enough.

Hongjoong, his name was. The Ice Prince.

Wonderland lived up to its name- a place full of wonders. Anyone with an affinity for magic who couldn't adjust to the lands of the humans settled in Wonderland. It was a free place for all humans whether they possessed magic or not, given they lived peacefully. Of course, the majority was of the Wonderers- the name given to those who possessed any sort of magic.

And you- well, you tried to pass away unnoticed. Your magic was, if not more, as dangerous as Hongjoong's- where his was the gift of ice, yours was the gift of fire.

Polar opposites, that's what you both were, in every aspect. He was a Prince. Every child grew up hearing stories about the Prince of Ice- and he'd built quite a reputation for himself. There were just so many rumours about him that you didn't know what to believe.

The Prince froze his enemies and then shattered their bodies.

The Prince burned him with his cold.

The Prince is just a young kid.

The Prince healed my freezing skin.

The Prince played in snow with my child.

You had no idea what to believe, and whenever you pictured him, you pictured a middle-aged man, even though most of the people had told you he was around your age. You just couldn't help but form this picture of a sulking old man sitting on his ice throne all dressed in white when you thought of him.

But you were no one to judge- you weren't quite in the place to complain when you were living two different lives. Most of the people knew you as a person with a little affinity for fire- enough to light stoves and burn the fire even in the winter, enough to burn metal if you tried long enough.

However, you were called the Fire Princess too- though no one had made the connection yet. It was just that you were too good at your disguise- and you weren't as dramatic as this Hongjoong person. You didn't involve yourself in any sort of politics or drama. The reason you were called the Fire Princess was because you had once saved Wonderland from flooding by a hurricane when you had steamed off all the water threatening to drown your homeland.

That was 5 years ago, and you had since kept a very low profile, getting well adjusted to your mundane life- an owner of a bookstore café. It was cozy and fit well with the vibe of winters, but-

The winter needed to stop.

You were wondering what the reason was- what had the Ice Prince all... disturbed? Was he okay? Was he doing this on purpose? Did he like to see the people suffer because of this endless winter?

Your friend Seonghwa- who basically lived in the café though he was a part-timer- was the only one alive who knew of your true identity. He was your childhood friend and the closest thing you had to a family. You looked at him as he sat in front of the fireplace- he really wasn't handling the cold well anymore. His fingers and toes would often swell due to the cold and you made him stay near you for the time-being. You could keep the café warm enough for him all day long, everyday as long as he needed.

You picked a candy and made your way next to Seonghwa, handing him the candy with a smile as you sat down. "Are your fingers better now?"

"They are, but as soon as I go out and stay too long, they start to freeze again," he sighed, shaking his head.

"I wonder what's got this Hongjoong's panties in a twist," you mumbled, and Seonghwa slapped your arm, but you only shrugged, "What? It's not like he's gonna hear me."

You had a point- but Seonghwa was too involved in the gossip that ran around, and he only shushed you, saying you never knew when the cold could get worse than it already was because he heard one of us complaining.

"Do you think I should get out of my hole and go talk to the Prince of Ice?" You asked after a moment, genuinely wondering if it was time that you confronted this man.

Seonghwa shook his head no rather strongly, making you laugh a bit, "You've kept a low-profile. If you go now and end this winter, it's gonna be too obvious that you're the one they've been searching for."

You supposed he was right- anyone would make the connection this time. One is an incidence, twice is a coincidence, and thrice would be a pattern- your cover would blow.

"But Seonghwa," you leaned forward, "I'm so tired of this cold, I'm beginning to hate it. I really think I should make things normal, see what's up and what's going on. Maybe I can't do anything about it, but at least I can try, for everyone's sake."

"You're gonna miss winter when it's gone," Seonghwa laughed, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling- one of the major reason that you loved winter was that you could burn from within without attracting attention. You could release fire here and there without making it strange. In summers... you really didn't handle the hot weather well, which was ironic.

"Maybe this time, I won't," you said your weak retort, ignoring his snickers and thinking. Should you, or should you not?

You did.

Early morning the very next day, you packed a bag with some simple belongings- some clothes, food, weapons, books for when you got bored and a map. Seonghwa came to see you off as you instructed him on how to take care of the bookstore while you were gone.

"I know," Seonghwa laughed, "Anyone who's curious gets to stay as long as they want and read books, in which case coffee is on the house."

You smiled, "Don't scare the poor souls away, will you?"

Seonghwa smirked- he knew you were talking about his shadow magic. He had a tendency to prank people when he got bored, and you had hence prohibited him from using magic inside the bookstore and the café. "I won't. Promise."

Pleased, you gave him a hug, telling him to look after himself and make sure he didn't stay out long, and he told you to be careful and come back if it got too dangerous. "I can turn him to ashes if he tries anything, you know," you told him, referring to Hongjoong.

"He can turn you to ice just as easily, so don't do anything stupid," Seonghwa pinched his nose bridge, already regretting ever agreeing and not stopping you- but he couldn't.

You left while the sun was rising, going north- you could feel the heat in the air and could feel where it was the coldest- north it was. You didn't need to wear much clothes to protect from the cold since you could warm yourself, but to prevent unwanted attention you had donned a long coat and boots- the latter being a necessity since the ice was getting thicker the further you travelled north.

It wasn't going to be a long journey- it would take two days at most, travelling on horses for the most part until you'd reach the mountains, which was when you'd had to resort to walking.

The mountains stretched some hundred miles, and you were worried just how you were going to find someone who you'd never seen- especially because you knew that when you'd get close, it'd confuse your senses and maybe you'd end up getting lost (not a big deal, you could find your way back somehow) or never finding him (big deal).

Or maybe he'd find you first- which was a big possibility. You'd have to mask your magic as soon as you were closer- but that would result in you feeling the actual cold. So you were weighing your options- risk getting detected by Hongjoong who you're going to find anyway, or risk freezing in the cold and maybe miss the chance to find him?

You shrugged- you'd go with the risk of getting detected. It could work as a shortcut.

The two days to the mountains were as uneventful as they could be. You had tagged along with two older women going in the same direction, exchanging food and gossip, from which you learnt more about what was going on in Wonderland.

You used to be the center of gossip, either as a subject or as a contributor. But ever since the incident 5 years ago, your life had changed. It wasn't the incident itself that changed your life but how people started treating you differently, which made you move and start fresh, Seonghwa soon following after you simply because he wanted a change too- and you were glad he had.

You learnt from the ladies that it was getting restless in the south- the water magicians were causing problems again just like 5 years ago, maybe to provoke the others or call out the fire princess for revenge for their brother. You listened with mundane curiosity, only nodding or reacting with a gasp sometimes, the ladies unknown to the fact that you were the fire princess they were talking about.

Once you reached the mountains and started travelling alone, you really started to feel the gravity of the situation. You really had no idea how the Ice Prince was going to be like. He could be ruthless. He really could kill you if you weren't fast enough. He could do anything to you.

For a while that you hiked, you mused about the other possibilities. Maybe he was just a kid, trying to get his powers in control- much like you had struggled in your early teens. Or maybe he was an old man who looked like cotton candy, all white hair and white beard- like the Santa Claus humans believe in.

Or he could be an angry old man too.

While you were snickering at the thought of the Ice Prince being a wrinkly old man, you reached the foothill of the mountain range, sighing when you looked up to the endless height all covered in a thick blanket of ice.

You sighed, clutching your necklace- a gift from your late mother which acted as a siphon, willing more heat into your body to keep yourself from freezing- it really was cold here. You noticed a group of men a few feet away, all bundled up, probably going their way up to hike too. Thinking it would be better to travel with a group rather than alone yet again, you decided to join them, stopping when a tall boy with dark hair and red streaks noticed you.

"You wanna go up the mountain?" He asked, scanning you once, and you could immediately feel his magic- something to do with water.

"Yep," you nodded, looking back at the group of men, "Are they all going?"

"We collect ice to sell, from the frozen lake. Blocks of ice," he told you, nudging you to follow him, "What's taking you up the mountains in such cold?"

"Just going to... visit a friend who lives in the north," you said casually, but he didn't miss your unintentional pause, and he didn't probe further either.

He introduced you to the old men, who laughed when you denied extra coats and mufflers from them, saying you had a 'little' affinity for fire magic and that would keep you warm.

"I hope it does, we don't want to bring your freezing corpse back," one of the men laughed.

"Uncle!" The boy- you had noticed the only young company they had- shook his head, "Don't mind him- he loves joking about death. It's how he rolls."

"I don't," you smiled, "So, what's your name?"

"Yunho," he smiled this time, and you thought he was incredibly cute for such a tall giant, "And you are?"

You told him your name, taking the stick he gave you as you started walking up, "What do you think about this never-ending winter?"

"To be honest, I'm kinda sick of it, even when business has been good lately," he smiled guiltily, eyes darting to the men as if afraid they'd hear him, "I miss summer."

"Me too," you sighed wistfully, "Even though winter was my favourite season, I'm beginning to hate it."

"I wish the Fire Princess could set his ass on fire," he snorted, making you laugh out loud, "He needs a taste of fire, this Ice Prince."

"Have you ever seen him? The Ice Prince, his name is Hongjoong, right?"

"So we've heard," Yunho said, offering you his hand as you stepped on a rock too high for you, "I haven't seen him, but he has-" he pointed to one of the men- the one with a rather aged face, he probably looked older than he actually was, "he's only seen him from afar, but he says you'd recognize him instantly."

"Because of his overwhelming magic?" You wondered.

"He lives up to his name," Yunho said, "Hair and skin as pale as snow. His eyes are... icy too."

"Oooo," you grinned, "Is he young?"

"What are you thinking?" Yunho wriggled his brows as he laughed and you shook your head, stifling your laugh, "He is probably in his 20s."

"Ah, I thought he was a... I don't know. Old man? Grumpy old ice man with a cold heart."

"That's what people usually tend to think," Yunho chuckled, "Much like the Fire Princess. People used to think she'd be a woman who'd be 'as hot as fire'. They were rather disappointed to find her only a scrawny teenager."

"And what's wrong with that? Everybody is a kid before they turn 'hot as hell'," you pouted, your voice giving away your disappointment and Yunho raised a brow.

"I suppose you have a point- I wonder where she is now. Have you ever had the chance to see or meet her?"

"Not really," you shrugged, "Have you?"

"Sadly, no," Yunho sighed wistfully, "I'd like to see her though."

"You wanna see if she is hot as hell?" You poked his arm, making him grin.

"No, I just... I have water magic, you know. Most of us have a grudge against her, you know the history," he told you, and you realized too late that you were treading on dangerous waters, literally.

"Do you think what she did was wrong?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't, actually," he sighed deeply, "Our own people- the water mages were wrong. They have no right to control the flow of nature. I'm glad Wonderland was saved from the flood and destruction, but at the same time... I think it was unnecessary to make a spectacle of his death."

"Spectacle?" You gaped at him- what was he talking about?

"I heard she burned that water mage alive in front of hundreds of people," Yunho looked at you.

"Well, do you think she could have gotten away alive if she had?" You frowned, "Don't you think she would have been detained at the spot?"

"I don't know- I've heard a lot of versions of the event," Yunho admitted, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

You nodded- people had made various versions of the actual incident. And you were the last person who was going to tell them what really had happened.

After two hours of hiking, you all sat down in a circle to eat, and you lit them a fire, preventing it from burning off thanks to the strong wind at this height. They roasted chicken and vegetables on the fire, exchanging stories of their times in the mountain and you listened eagerly.

The men were a friendly bunch, you found out as you talked to them. They were pretty used to the snow since they worked in the mountains, and you learned that Yunho was one of the men's nephew, learning to adjust the temperature of his water magic- but none of them had water magic so Yunho was on his own.

"I could teach you," you offered, his eyes lighting up, "I have to control the temperature of my fire magic too- it should be the same thing."

"As much as I like the offer, is this really gonna come in handy to me?" Yunho wondered.

"Of course," you told him, "Think of the possibilities. You can extend your magic to ice and fire- you can freeze water and make vapours too- you can be the Ice Prince and Fire Princess, Yunho."

He giggled at that, making you join, "I like the sound of Fire Princess."

"I'm serious!" You laughed a bit, "Think about it- water so hot you could burn someone from the inside out- you know our bodies are one-third water."

"Why would I need to do that!" Yunho groaned, "I don't want to burn people alive!"

"You should always be prepared," your tone was grim, "You never know when someone is gonna come after you."

Yunho looked at you as you said that, a curious glint in his eyes. Just who were you? "Do you have people coming after you?"

"Fire magic is rare as it is, and in the winters it gets worse," you admitted, "Just like water magic- not rare but people take it for granted."

You travelled north along with the group until it was dark and they were tired, leading you to the cabin- you learned that there were such cabins for travellers and hikers situated every few miles, open to everyone. After a few fruits you decided to rest, tired from all the hiking you had done, your legs aching because you had never hiked such a long distance in one day.

The next morning, drinking some warm tea and eating fruits, Yunho told you that the rest of them were going to the lake only a few miles west from here.

"Are you still going north?" He asked, standing beside you as you peeked down from the height, wowing at the scene in front of you- it was winter wonderland, literally. The trees had icicles hanging from them, and everything in sight was just a beautiful shade of white.

"Yes, I don't know how long I have to go, but I have a map so I should be fine," you shrugged, and Yunho failed to stifle his smile, shaking his head as he put his hands in his pocket, and you narrowed your eyes at him, "What?"

"You do know there's nothing up north anymore, don't you?" He was grinning shamelessly now.

"Ah, is that so?" You shrugged, "I'll just explore a bit. I have to meet my friend a bit further up north."

"Hey, there's literally nothing up there. No cabins- no one is able to go further because of the blizzard. Are you sure you have a friend up there?"

You bit your lip, wishing Seonghwa was here- he would have saved your ass. You were not a good liar, opting to shut your mouth when you couldn't say the truth.

"You're going to the Ice Prince, aren't you?" Yunho was smiling.

"And why would I go to him? I haven't even seen the dude," you pouted.

"I have high suspicions of who you are, and don't try to deny it- you're a bad liar."

You pursed your lips, looking at him, "Whatever you're thinking, you're probably wrong."

"Maybe I am," he sighed, rather happy with how the situation turned out, "But you're not really denying anything either."

You looked at Yunho who was grinning in victory and you rolled your eyes, "Whatever. Yeah, I am going to see the Ice Prince and maybe I'll set his ass on fire too. Someone has to."

Yunho laughed, "Can I tag along? I'd love to see the sight."

You scanned him- he really was all positive vibes, chill and happy. You sensed no danger from him, and his presence was relaxing- something quite rare. "If you want to learn about your magic, you can tag along."

"Alright," he jumped happily, "I'm going to tell my uncle then- don't run away!"

You waved at him, sighing as you looked at the sun peeking from behind the clouds. Yunho really was different, considering he was a water mage too. He wasn't like the rest of them who were bitter towards all fire mages since the incident, and the fact that he didn't believe anything he heard about the incident said a lot about his personality.

Yunho came back with his bag and yours, taking out a muffler and wrapping it around his head and burying his nose inside too, "There's gonna be a strong blizzard up there. We'll freeze to death- unless you have a way to keep me warm. I'll probably be the only one dying- you won't let me freeze to death, will you?"

"I won't," you laughed at how his eyes searched your face, "Come on, I'll even teach you how to keep yourself warm with your own magic."

"Alright, I'll trust you on that- if you ditch me out in the cold, my uncle remembers your face- he told me to tell you that."

You saluted, grinning, "Alright, sir. Shall we?"

-----------------

"The storm's crazy," you shook your head, Yunho close by as you hiked up the snow- it was very thick and your boots were sinking in the snow much more than before, "What the hell is up with this Hongjoong?"

"I know right," Yunho shivered a bit- even when you had created a circle of warmth around the two of you, it still didn't stop the chill from entering your body. You weren't using all your magic though, keeping as much reserved as you could manage without getting sick in the cold, "Do you think he might be... I don't know- in some sort of trouble?"

"Let's hope not," you muttered. It was unlikely. He was probably being a little bitch and testing his powers here, unaware of the magnitude of it. Or maybe he was aware and doing this on purpose-

You paused- you didn't want the incidents from 5 years ago to repeat again.

"Is something wrong?" Yunho frowned, and you opened your mouth to speak but then shut up.

"Nothing," you managed to say, motioning him to carry on walking, "Just had a thought."

"Are you... worried about what's gonna happen when you do meet him?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "This could turn out really bad, actually. Now is the time to back out, Yunho."

"I tagged along to learn about my magic, so I think I'll stick," he said and you smiled at that.

Finding a little cave, the two of you went inside, eating the lunch box the uncles had packed you two, deciding to eat less to save the food for when you'll actually need it. You warmed water for both of you, sitting in front of a fire that burned without wood- suspended in the air.

"So, how much can you do with your magic currently?"

"I can handle the water part well," Yunho told you, crossing his legs, "Bending, controlling the flow- not the best with a large amount but I can handle it okay."

You nodded- it was good enough for a normal mage, "You're not from the original bloodline, are you?"

You were referring to the greater mages, as people called them. You and Hongjoong both were from the original bloodline, hence dubbed Prince and Princess of your elements. "Do you think I'd tell you if I was?"

You made an impressed face as Yunho grinned, shaking his head, "I'm not. I'm... normal."

"Way to phrase it," you muttered, "Okay, so considering you're 'normal', that's good enough. Can you manifest water right now and burn out this fire?"

Yunho nodded, raising his hand and concentrating for a few seconds, water forming in his hand drop by drop until it swirled around his hand and he sent it to the fire which burned out with a sizzle.

"Good," you said, and the fire burned again without you moving an inch, and Yunho gaped at you, "Can you manifest your magic without movement, with a thought?"

"I thought only the greater mages could do that," he raised a brow, but you shook your head.

"Anyone who's well trained can do that. It just requires a lot of focused concentration. You can learn that too. You'll need to use your imagination- picture creating a body of water in front of you. Your hand isn't the outlet actually- it just helps you with the focusing part."

"You're making it sound easier than it is," Yunho laughed nervously, "Should I try?"

"You can, but it's gonna take some time. Just try picturing it daily until you can feel it- it's gonna require a lot of glaring in the space- which is exactly what you're doing right now."

Yunho groaned- he had been glaring daggers at the fire. You shook your head as you smiled, "You don't need to be angry to manifest it either. It'll come naturally- don't forget to practice like 8 hours a day."

"8 hours!" Yunho wailed, and you glared at him.

"Do you want me to kick you down from where we came from?"

"No ma'am," he saluted, straightening, "So what about the temperature part?"

"That's harder than manifesting your magic with a thought, so I say you get to that first."

"Can you control your fire's magic?" He asked. You put your hand in front of Yunho, a flame drawing from your index finger, "Go ahead and touch it."

Yunho frowned at you, but you shook your head, "It's not gonna burn, I promise. Go ahead."

Skeptical, he put his fingers right above the flame as if feeling for heat, but you raised your finger and let the flame make contact with his skin, Yunho drawing his hand back reflexively, but then testing it himself, touching your flame, and then you lit your hand in cold fire.

"That's... amazing- it's only a little warm- how is it possible?"

"It can be hot too- hot enough to burn my own skin," you told him, "Your magic can hurt you too- never forget that."

Yunho stared at you- his suspicions about you were turning into belief and your show of magic abilities wasn't really helping your case. "You know what? I'm gonna assume you are the Fire Princess."

"But I'm not," you smiled.

"I'm gonna assume until I actually see the Fire Princess in front of me," he smiled, "Until then, you are her."

"Do I look like a Fire Princess though?" You wondered out loud, "People assume she has fiery red hair and eyes that glow like fire-"

"You're definitely looking like the scrawny kid they talk about," Yunho snickered, making you slap his arm.

"I'm not scrawny and definitely not a kid anymore!"

"You tell yourself that," he grinned, "But I'll say... your eyes. You do know they kind of glow whenever you use your magic more?"

You gaped at Yunho- "You're not serious."

Yunho gaped back at you, "Has no one told you that?"

You shook your head no, "I just don't really use my magic much, so I guess people didn't notice. The cold fire requires more strength so that's why you must have noticed."

"Well," Yunho shifted, "My case rests. No set of eyes glow even when you use all of your magic. I guess that rumour was true after all."

You raised a brow, "What rumour?"

"The water mages remember your eyes," Yunho said, "From when you steamed all the water."

"Oh," you nodded absently, looking at Yunho and realizing a second later that you had fallen in his trap when you saw him smirking, "But I'm not the Fire Princess."

"Whatever you say," he laughed, shaking his head and you laughed a bit too. You were going to keep denying it shamelessly.

As the two of you walked further up, you couldn't believe just how easily you had shown Yunho your magic and how relaxed you were with him. You wondered if it was because he reminded you of a younger you- back when you were still learning the strengths and weaknesses of your magic, so curious about how you could control it better. The two of you engaged in small talk as you walked, helping each other whenever a tough spot came, and you found the blizzard getting stronger than before, Yunho shivering now despite your circle of warmth.

"He must be close," you wondered, looking at Yunho and finding his teeth chattering- you couldn't increase the temperature of your warmth anymore- it would require too much magic, "You should have told me you were feeling cold, Yunho. Why didn't you?"

"Didn't want to bother you," he simply said, passing a weak smile.

"I would have been bothered more if I had to deal with your frozen corpse," you muttered, "Take off your gloves."

"Are you crazy?" Yunho frowned at you, hugging himself and you rolled your eyes.

"Take it off- just this one," you pointed to his hand beside you, and as he took off his glove, you took off your own, folding your fingers in his, raising your hands as you looked at your joined hands, "You're hands are... very big."

Yunho laughed out loud, "Yours are small," he squeezed your hands, muttering 'tiny', noticing that he had stopped shivering. "Is this easier than creating that circle around us?"

"This is nothing to me," you told him, "The circle required magic- this is just my subconscious, you could say."

Yunho nodded, thanking you for not letting him freeze, and you continued following the source of the blizzard which grew so strong that you had to melt any snow that made way to your face, asking Yunho if he could lend you some power.

"Don't drain me too much," he warned, "Otherwise you'll have to deal with my corpse."

"I know how much you hold, Yunho, don't worry," you told him and he nodded, lending you as much as you wanted, until you found another cave- it was getting dark so you decided to rest.

Once again, you built a fire on which Yunho cooked some raw chicken, you wowing because he had way too may food supplies in his bag- he was probably wearing all the clothes he owned at this point. As you two ate, Yunho asked you just what you planned to do once you were face to face with the Ice Prince.

"Ask him politely to put an end to this winter and keep it to the mountains," you sipped on your tea, "I haven't thought about what to do if he denies."

"You really came without a plan, didn't you?" Yunho shook his head, "How did that friend of yours even let you go?"

"He believed I'd set the Ice Prince on fire if he denied, so maybe I should do that?" You wondered, making him laugh.

"Okay, Princess," Yunho shook his head, and you once again denied you weren't the Fire Princess. "Come on, no one else other than the Fire Princess would dare confront the Ice Prince without a plan."

"Some people are just dumb and think they can rule the world, you know," you shrugged, "maybe I'm one of them."

"Maybe you're both," Yunho pointed, and you had to acknowledge that.

When you were done eating, you took out your sleeping bags, and you stood wondering what to do with your magic- you couldn't control the fire when you were asleep. Yunho looked at you from where he sat on his bag, yours next to him.

"Sorry to inconvenience you," you finally said, "But I can't hold the fire when I'm asleep. So... the only option you have is to stay in contact with my skin to keep you warm while we sleep."

Yunho shook his head at the way you worded that, smirking a little, "How do you suggest we do that?"

"Well," you took off your sweater, leaving you in a half-sleeved T-shirt, "just hold my hand or arm as we sleep- and if I turn... I don't know, man, do whatever it takes to stay alive at this point. I don't want to deal with your frozen corpse in the morning."

Yunho laughed at that, a little nervous, "Sorry for inconveniencing you, princess, but you brought this upon yourself when you offered to teach me magic," he said as you lay down beside him, sleeping bags side by side, burning the fire out, the moonlight slowly filling the cave and giving you a little vision as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, your hands joined as you lay side by side, "You're basically a walking furnace, aren't you?"

"I am, and don't you go calling me princess," you laughed a bit, "that sounds so weird."

"That's all I'm calling you from now," he grinned, and you told him to shut up and sleep, smiling as he squeezed your hand unconsciously.

----------------

You, of course, woke up with Yunho hugging you as the big spoon.

And oh, he was a big ass spoon. He was basically engulfing your figure, one arm draped over your waist and over your own arm, hand on your hand, and you lazily played with his hands as you took your time to wake yourself up fully.

You couldn't help but smile at your joined hands, feeling a little giddy inside- the events really had turned out so unpredictable. You hadn't expected to make a friend out of your journey, let alone feel like a stupid giddy teenager with hormones because a guy was sleeping with you like that.

You mentally slapped yourself- this wasn't your first time sleeping with a guy, technically. You and Seonghwa had a habit of lying down on bed and gossiping until you passed out- but Seonghwa really didn't count. You decided to blame your fluttering heart to the lack of love in your life- you had a habit of driving away anyone who tried getting closer. You really didn't want anyone to know you were the Fire Princess. It would have only caused complications. Plus, the town you now lived in was small, and all the guys around your age knew you liked being alone. You hadn't gotten much action the past few years, if you were being honest.

And here you were with the man who was calling you princess, having found out your deepest secret two days in staying with you. You thanked the force above that Yunho had no filter and was honest and rational, not doubting you even when he was a water mage. He was just... different. Nice.

Yunho unconsciously tugged at you, bringing you closer and you decided it was time to wake the hell up. You tried putting his arm up and sliding away, but it was heavy- you later realized he was awake.

"Good morning to you too," Yunho scoffed.

"You're so heavy, let me go!" You groaned, making him snicker as he finally put his arm up and you lit a fire, no longer in contact with Yunho, "someone slept really well."

"I did, actually," Yunho rubbed his eyes. His cheeks were flushed- morning face, you had seen it yesterday too. It was kinda cute.

"I'm hoping to find that little brat today," you referred to the Ice Prince, "so eat up to your fill. He better prepare a feast for us when we arrive."

Yunho laughed, "What's got you in a bad mood, princess?"

"Even I'm beginning to feel cold," you sighed, "And we're running out of food. If we don't find him today we'll have to go back."

"Alright," Yunho finally got up, "Let's do that."

Eating only an apple each for breakfast and running on coffee, you turned a notch down on your siphon, allowing you to access a bit more power as you and Yunho ascended the mountain, the blizzard now in full force and you had to hold Yunho's hand not only to keep him from freezing but also for his physical strength as he led you into the eye of the storm.

"There's no way he's doing this on purpose, unless he's an evil maniac," you shouted- you really couldn't hear each other well anymore due to the strong wind, "He must be in some sort of trouble."

"I think so too!" Yunho basically dragged you up, "Is this like when you lose control of your magic? Would you set the world on fire if you did?"

"Exactly like that," you confirmed, "I once nearly burned my own self and the whole house."

Yunho grimaced, and you kept moving forward- maps were useless. You both were utterly lost and maybe doomed too. You needed to get to the Ice Prince today and see what all this fuss was about.

It had been a few more minutes of walking to the apparent source when you sensed magic- and not of a single person, but-

There were at least 10 people with ice magic and other magic here.

You tugged at Yunho's hand and when he looked at you, you motioned him to stay quiet and went behind a big rock to take cover.

"There are at least 10 mages here," you began, "can you veil your magic so they won't sense you?"

"I've never needed to do that," Yunho looked sorry, but you shook your head and told him it was okay.

"We have to deal with them anyway- I'm sure you know basic offence and defence, right?"

Which was how you ended up using Yunho as a bait.

As a water mage, he could easily pass by as someone who came for the ice and isn't affected by the blizzard because most of the water mages can control ice to some extent too.

You were in front of a building- you didn't know what else to call it, it was all steel and rocks from the outside, and it was quite huge as well, like a mini-palace of sorts, probably built this way to keep the cold away. Three men were stationed at the entrance, two a few feet ahead and Yunho strolled in, saying hi all well-mannered, saying he was passing by for ice and talking about how the storm was so bad.

You didn't have much time- Yunho was barely keeping himself together, since he was no longer in contact with you and your magic that kept you warm. You couldn't risk his life. So as soon as the men relaxed from their tense position, playing along with pretending that they knew nothing about the storm, you came in range and sent some smoke their way, making them choke hard and pass out, Yunho running to you and holding your already extended hand hastily, teeth chattering.

"This was easier than I thought," Yunho commented.

"Only because they didn't feel me, and because you're an incredible actor," you grinned at him and he grinned back. "Now let's deal with the guards at the entrance- stick with me, okay? They won't sense me."

"Okay," Yunho said and you two walked right ahead, hoping the two men wouldn't notice the absent guards towards their left, and as soon as they noticed you, they came for you, but they were out when you choked them on the very air they breathed, and Yunho stood with his mouth hanging open, shaking his head at you.

“What?” You shrugged, unaware of the source of his surprise.

“There’s absolutely no way you’re not her,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you, “No fire mage could have as much control as you- suffocating the men without burning their lungs from the inside out? Who the hell trained you if you’re not her?”

“Let’s pretend you didn’t see that,” you pursed your lips in amusement, beckoning him forward, standing in front of the steel doors where you paused before you opened them, and turning towards him. “Now is the time to back out, Yunho. I don’t know how dangerous it can get from here, and I cannot guarantee your safety though I’ll try my absolute best, but… now is the time to reconsider this.”

Yunho huffed, jumping up and down enthusiastically, shivering once because he had let go of your hand, “I’m going in there with you, whether you like it or not, simply because you’re a tiny girl and I want to protect you.”

“This tiny girl could set your ass on fire,” you muttered, smiling as you opened the door, telling him to put up a defence because you were going full offence from here.

The lobby was huge, all ice and blue and white, a chandelier hanging in the middle. You had no time to admire the beauty of the interior- men after men came, hurtling their magic at you, sending sharp icicles that could slice your skin open but they melted before they came in your focus- you had a ring of fire around the two of you, and Yunho was glad for that. He wasn’t sure if his water magic was going to be any use in front of these very skilled ice mages.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the mages muttered, and you turned to him- a rather tall man with dark hair and even darker eyes, if that was possible.

“Who do you think?” You sent a shot of fire at him, but he put up an ice shield, making you stop, “Where is the Ice Prince? Take me to him.”

“As if,” he scoffed, “You’re not taking him anywhere- who sent you? Are you here to save him or kill him?”

Save him? Were you right about this?

You heard Yunho groan and you noticed he had just deflected a sharp icicle aimed for you, and you set the man on fire, leaving him gasping for air as he burned the fire out from within, which proved your theory that these men were not under-skilled.

You raised your hands- you really had no time for this chit-chat. In a matter of seconds, all the men in your vision were gasping for air and passing out, and you put the ring of fire out from around you.

“We need to lock them and tie them good,” you muttered, and Yunho immediately started dragging the men in a corner piling them in front of you- there were 6 of them.

This was not good.

As you bit your lips, thinking, Yunho looked at you, also waiting for an explanation. You finally sighed, “We don’t have much time- we should check to see where the Ice Prince is at before we think about what to do with this lot. They’ll stay out for a while. Let’s go.”

You and Yunho made your way around, checking room after room, until Yunho found a narrow passageway that led upstairs to a tower-like structure you had managed to see a glimpse of from the outside. You took the lead, Yunho right behind you, and you noticed it was getting colder and colder- frost covered the walls in decorative patterns. You squeezed Yunho’s hand- he would freeze without you.

There was a single door, and you could instantly feel the strong presence inside, as could Yunho as he looked at you. “It’s too dangerous,” you told him, taking off your necklace- the siphon and putting it around his neck, “This should keep you warm- go downstairs while I deal with this.”

“But it’s too dangerous for you alone-“

“No buts,” you shushed him, “Trust me, I got this. Now go. I don’t want to drag your corpse out now, do I?”

Yunho smiled, trusting you and before he started to go down, you stopped him, “Do not touch the necklace’s notch. You’ll find this building on fire if you do, so be careful.”

“Oh- is this a siphon?” Yunho asked and you nodded, and he raised his brow as if to say ‘you keep proving my point’, grinning as he ran downstairs.

You breathed, turning around and touching the doorknob, melting the locks and opening the door after a moment-

You did not expect to see the Ice Prince chained to the walls, head on his knees, making himself appear smaller than he was, his silver hair- almost white- falling messily, icicles hanging from his hair-

Gosh, he was freezing himself.

You walked to him cautiously- it looked like he was unconscious. Slightly poking him, you realized that either he was, or he was out for a moment, but the sudden irrational fear crawled inside you that there was a possibility that he was only a step away from death.

“…Hongjoong?” You tried calling him but he didn’t respond, and you gently pushed his figure to the back, revealing his face-

Gosh, he was… beautiful- even when frost was covering his eyelashes and his lips were blue and frosted. You touched his face- he was freezing from the inside out, and the gauntlets on his hands didn’t help, especially since they looked like they were made to block his magic, the iron covering his hands completely, his arms falling limply to his side.

Biting your lips, you pulled at the chains- you’d had to melt them without burning them, but it was too risky. You didn’t want to burn his hands, so you only melted the chain from near the wrists and his gauntlets, freeing him from the wall, and then you lay him down, putting a hand on his forehead and sending a little spark of fire inside him- enough to start the process of waking him up from his frozen state. You took out a kerchief, wiping his eyes as the frost on his eyelashes melted, then wiping his face as colour seeped through his skin, and you realized he wasn’t as pale as you thought he’d be.

The room was still ice-cold, making your breath materialise in the air, so you decided to start with putting the temperature of the room down, getting up and walking to the window as you started to melt the ice-

You didn’t even hear him wake up from his sleep and you only turned when it was too late-

He was upon you and pushed you, making you instinctively hold on to him as the window shattered and you two were then hurtling out to your death- your screams ringing in the air as he tried to choke you, realizing his hands were still blocked.

You only had time to scream, “I’m here to save you, you fucker!” before Hongjoong’s eyes changed, and he put his blocked hand out, making an icy slide to save you from breaking your head open on the rock (or save himself, probably, because he had plans to kill you) and then you two were rolling down on the soft snow, halting slowly and you coughed, spitting ice out from your mouth, finding Hongjoong on top of you, pinning your hands down.

“Who sent you?” He practically growled, his icy blue eyes burning you.

“I came to save you, you idiot,” you groaned, kicking him on the stomach and pushing him off, sending him moaning in pain loudly as he clutched at his stomach- he was probably weak right now, “I came to end this never-ending winter and see what got your icy ass in trouble, and you- you decide to push me out of that freaking tower?”

“Then why are my hands still inside this?” He put them in the air as if proving a point, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m a fire mage, for fuck’s sake. I could burn the flesh off your hands if I tried breaking that. You’d like that, I’m sure.”

He stared at you for a moment, the icy wind circling around you two as you realized you were in the eye of the storm, and you raised your brows impatiently. He sighed, “How do I get this thing out?”

“I don’t know, man, try breaking it,” you groaned, getting up and squealing in pain as you saw the shards buried in your arms, “I’m gonna kill you later.”

He said nothing, and you shook your head because the only shard of broken glass he had gotten was on his cheek, sending blood trickling down, already frozen to his skin.

Yunho came outside, calling your name and Hongjoong instinctively sent a bolt of ice in his direction, which you melted before it could cut him, glaring daggers at him. “That’s my friend, you idiot. We mean no harm. Stop acting like a brat while we figure this out."

Hongjoong only sighed, bringing his knees to his chest again as Yunho rushed to you, examining your hurt state, glaring at Hongjoong. “I have healing magic- let me try healing your arms."

You nodded- most water mages had an affinity for healing. Yunho pulled the pointy shards out of your skin, healing them with a swipe of his finger over the open wound. By the time he was done you were seething in pain and anger, dimming it down a notch when you saw the guilty look in Hongjoong’s eyes.

“You gonna tell me why you were locked in that tower?” You asked, and Hongjoong sighed.

“Where are the ice mages?”

“Out cold, but not for too long,” you said.

“They planned to kill me, but I am too powerful, so they were trying to weaken me before getting rid of me.”

“You in your weakened state have put the entire land in eternal winter,” you muttered.

“I’m sure you like the cold,” Hongjoong raised his brow, “Fire Princess.”

Yunho met your eyes, and you pursed your lips- no point denying it now, really. “I may like the cold but it got too much for everyone, Hongjoong. And you…. You were freezing from the inside. You do know that you were only a step away from death, don’t you?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flashed, and you realized that he had no idea, “You really mean me no harm?”

“Unless you try to kill me or my friend here, no, I mean no harm.”

Hongjoong sighed, getting up, “We should lock the men first. Do not underestimate their skills. We can get to this…” he looked at his shackled hands, “later.”

With that, the three of you went inside, Yunho dragging them to the nearest room and you helping while Hongjoong watched, and when they all were in the same room, Hongjoong looked at the ceiling, drawing sharp icicles down and trapping them such that they couldn’t move without hurting themselves or killing themselves, and you whistled- he wasn’t joking around.

“Now,” Hongjoong said as the three of you went to the lobby, “How do you suggest I get rid of these?”

You thought for a minute, “Try freezing them and breaking them?”

“You could try melting them,” Yunho suggested.

“It’s too risky, I’d burn him,” you bit your lips, but Yunho was shaking his head.

“If you can suffocate the men without burning their lungs, you can surely try breaking this without melting him too.”

Hongjoong raised a brow at that, but you shook your head. It was too risky.

“What if,” Hongjoong began, “You melt from the outside and I freeze from the inside? It’s gonna break it, right?”

“Technically, it should, but don’t blame me if I burn you,” you put your hands in the air and Hongjoong only shrugged to give you an okay.

Taking his imprisoned hands, you looked at him, finding his eyes glowing as he focused on controlling the amount of magic he sent, and you realized your eyes must be glowing too- did they glow like fire? You shut your eyes, focusing on feeling your magic, stopping when you felt the ice of Hongjoong’s and working backwards from there, until the iron started crumbling in your hands.

Hongjoong flexed his hands, making an impressed face at you, “Thank you, I guess.”

“You guess?” You sighed, but smiled. He must have been through a lot for him to be like this- so distrustful of everyone.

“Make yourself at home,” Hongjoong offered.

“Don’t tell me this is your home,” you frowned.

“It has to be,” Yunho smiled, “I mean, look at that,” he pointed at the chandelier, and you noticed that it was made of ice- blue flame glowing in the middle that could only be the flame of ice rather than of fire.

“You live alone, and these- people, they came for you, why?” You looked at him, “Also if this is your home I’m expecting there is food here because I am famished.”

Hongjoong scoffed, leading you to the kitchen, groaning at the mess the men had made of his home, “Has no one come for you yet? I mean, you are the Fire Princess. You don’t pretend to be someone else, do you?”

You looked guiltily as Yunho who grinned, “And what if I do? Should I have built myself a fire palace and set the whole land on fire?”

Hongjoong winced, “I did not sent the blizzard on this land on purpose, Princess. You must know. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Hongjoong put some fruits on the table and you and Yunho took the frozen fruits, you touching them lightly to make them normal before you started eating the strawberries and the grapes, “No one except the water mages come after me- you know because of what happened 5 years ago. But I’ve been living in peace for quite a while now.”

Hongjoong looked suspiciously at Yunho- after all, he was a water mage too. “You won’t be in peace for longer. There’s been a… movement going on, you could say. They’re planning to get rid of the original bloodlines. They’ve already killed my uncle, who was the only remaining member of the original family apart from me here in Wonderland. Do you have someone in your family?”

“Well, they all died 4 years ago- just how long has the movement been going on?” You frowned- your parents had died a rather suspicious death. You had tried finding out more but you had no idea and found no clue.

“Long enough,” Hongjoong said, as if to tell you that your family’s death might have to do something with that, “The other originals have all left this land for the fear of their life. It’s only you and me now, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at how he called you princess- as if he was being sarcastic, nothing like the endearing way Yunho called you. “What do you suggest then, Prince? If they got you, they could get me too.”

“Well, lucky for you, there are only a few fire mages around here. Their plan was to fight ice with ice, fire with fire, you know the deal. But they’ll come after me- these were only a few men. The rest are coming soon, so we should get the hell away from here as soon as possible.”

“And go where? With you looking like… this,” you scanned him, and he raised his arms.

“Me looking like what?”

“Like the Ice Prince,” you looked at Yunho, “Tell me someone will look at him and not make the connection right away.”

“She’s right,” Yunho said, “You look like the Ice Prince. Your hair and eyes kind of give you away.”

“So?” Hongjoong pointed at you, “Her eyes turn amber and glow when she uses her magic!”

“But she could pass as a normal fire mage, you, on the other hand… it’s gonna be hard.”

Hongjoong groaned and you looked at Yunho in amusement, “I’m so glad I look normal enough.”

“Well,” Hongjoong put a cherry in his mouth, “Is there somewhere we can go and lay low for a while?”

You noticed how Hongjoong had casually joined your gang and was going to follow you wherever you go. You looked at Yunho, “Why am I so tempted to ditch him here?”

“Hey!” Hongjoong looked offended, “Fine, I can go my way. Don’t come crawling to me when they come after you!”

“Crawling?” You scoffed, “You don’t come crawling to me when they get you again! Oh wait- you won’t be able to. You’d just set the whole world on ice and hibernate.”

Yunho snorted, failing to hold his laugh as the two of you bickered back and forth, finally getting up and stopping you two from jabbing fingers at each other’s faces. “Okay, okay, stop. We go together from here- it’s better to stick together.”

“You’re not the Water Prince, are you?” Hongjoong eyed Yunho suspiciously.

“I’m not,” Yunho raised his hands, and Hongjoong eyed the necklace he was wearing, making Yunho look at you and take the necklace off.

“I almost forgot,” you breathed, putting the necklace around yourself, you had been warming the room subconsciously anyway, “Anyways, we should definitely leave this place. As much as I hate it, the only place I got is where I live right now, so… let’s go there and plan from there. And Hongjoong? Please try putting this blizzard out if you can help it. But take it down bit by bit- I don’t want anyone to be suspicious of you.”

Hongjoong nodded- he could do that.

Packing food for the journey and asking Hongjoong to cover himself like a normal man who gets cold, the three of you left the house, Hongjoong icing the door shut and sending a mini blizzard around the house for precautionary measures.

You and Yunho naturally took the lead, Hongjoong following close by as you discussed which route to take.

"Should we drop by the site?" Yunho asked, mentioning the cabins where the men who had accompanied you up would be, "We could get a hot meal definitely."

"Let's do that, I'm starting to abhor the idea of more fruits," you muttered.

"Won't it be too suspicious if I drop by?" Hongjoong almost mumbled as if he didn't really want you to hear that, but you did, and you pursed your lips.

"Just blend in, can you? If anyone asks, your name is... Jongho. Can you do that?"

"I don't know about the 'blending in' part," Hongjoong shrugged and you glared at him.

"That is the least you can do for all of us."

"Now don't you go giving me shit about my appearance. You should have been born with hair the colour of fire. You'd know how it'd feel to stick out like a sore thumb then."

You glared at him, "I'm not giving you shit about your appearance, Prince. All I'm asking of you is to act friendly when you meet anyone and try to keep a low profile. Not so hard, is it?"

"It is, Princess, because everyone seems to recognize me no matter how hard I try to stay low. I'm sure you of all people know how that feels."

"Now, now," Yunho stepped in between you two, patting your back to calm you down, "Those men won't say a word if I ask them to."

"They better not," Hongjoong only kept glaring at you and you made a face when you had enough, making him snort, "So very charming."

"I wonder what's keeping me from setting your smartass on fire," you sighed.

"I'd like to see you try, Princess. Let's see whose fire burns more," Hongjoong's eyes glowed, and Yunho waved his hands awkwardly between you two.

"I'm changing the topic. So where are we going?" Yunho asked you.

"I live south, near the sea," you smiled a bit when you thought of home, "I own a bookstore café. Try not to ruin the warm atmosphere of that place when I take you there, will you, Prince?"

He only snorted, ignoring you, and you continued, "I have a friend who practically lives there. I think you and him will get along well."

"Me and him?" Hongjoong frowned, "and why do you think so?"

"You'll see when we get there," you smirked, and Hongjoong straightened as if to say no force on this Earth could do so.

----------------

You could barely keep your laughter in when you saw Hongjoong obeying Seonghwa- it wasn't that Seonghwa was ordering him around, but when he'd give him a simple task like 'hand me that', or 'get me that from outside', Hongjoong would find himself doing the task without complaining.

You supposed the poor boy had been alone long enough and found something comforting about Seonghwa- everybody seemed to. There was just something about Seonghwa's nature that was so caring and motherly that everyone found themselves comforted by his presence.

You recalled when Hongjoong had challenged you when you'd said he'd get along well with Seonghwa. He'd been so persistent on not getting along with you, at least. Even Yunho and him would share a giggle over jokes every now and then, but you?

You wondered if Hongjoong hated you. Sometimes he'd listen to what you said, but sometimes he'd act like a... brat and spoil your mood. You wonder if he annoyed you on purpose.

He had definitely annoyed you all the way down from that damned mountains of the north. He had failed to keep a low profile in the cabin and Yunho had to ask the uncles to keep their secret because of the threat on your heads, which had led them to make the connection about you too. Though they were impressed and maybe a little intimidated by the presence of two of the originals, they had treated you two well, giving you warm meals and a place to sleep as a thanks for keeping them all warm during your trip up.

You had made it back without much happening, and when you entered your home with the two boys, Seonghwa's jaw had dropped.

"So which one of them is your boyfriend?" Was the first thing that Seonghwa had asked and the two had immediately burst into laughter and groans while you had scolded Seonghwa and told him all about what happened as he made you all coffee and gave you something to eat.

"So he's the Ice Prince," Seonghwa smiled, "Nice to meet you. You look younger than I thought."

"And how old did you think I'd be?" Hongjoong out one leg over the other.

"I don't know- I used to think my age- I guess you are. But she-" he pointed at you, "used to imagine a wrinkly old man, so my ideas mixed a bit..."

"Wow," Hongjoong shook his head at you, "I don't remember thinking of the Fire Princess as a wrinkly old hag."

"I don't remember thinking of the Fire Princess as a scrawny kid, but here we are," Yunho sighed and you yelled at the two, tempted to throw your dessert at them but Seonghwa calmed you down with a touch, and you only huffed.

Seonghwa had told stories about your pasts, especially embarrassing stories about how you'd set everything you touched on fire when you were recovering from the incident 5 years ago, having a laugh over it as he showed off his burns that he got from you proudly.

"These are friendship marks," Seonghwa showed them off as if it was a badge. You rolled your eyes as the others shook their head at you, disappointed.

"I should have friendship marks too," you muttered, feeling sorry for Seonghwa. He had refused to let go of the scars even though he could have gotten them healed, saying it was a reminder that you got through the hard times with him, and your own burns, which Seonghwa didn't mention because they were too personal, were a reminder of that. Seonghwa looked at you pointedly as if to remind you of your own burns, and Hongjoong didn't miss that look.

You had two rooms in your house at the back of the bookstore, so the guys decided to share the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts in your room, the smaller of the two with a queen sized bed and a table at one end, not much to the room.

The next day was busy for you- you had to go out in the town for supplies and to catch up on the gossip which would reveal if Hongjoong was right about this uprising- if you could call it that- and see if people were suspicious about your guests.

When you came back, Seonghwa had already prepared a meal for the four of you, and you instantly slumped in the chair, telling Seonghwa about how your day was, and Hongjoong watched you two interact with curiosity- the way you and Seonghwa rolled was too smooth and natural. Even Yunho fit right in and he sometimes felt like an outsider.

After eating, Seonghwa was instructing Hongjoong to pick up the dishes and telling him where to put what, which was why you were holding back your amusement. They really got along well, and you were glad, though you could feel Hongjoong still felt awkward.

You and Hongjoong were still arguing with each other every moment you had a chance, calling each other prince and princess like it was a curse word, and though Yunho and Seonghwa would try to calm you down, they decided to team up and enjoy watching you bicker back and forth instead as they sipped on their drinks.

"You set your own hair on fire!" Hongjoong laughed as he recalled a story Seonghwa had told him, "Is this why your hair is so dark but looks like rust in the sunlight?"

"Says the person who put on frost mascara," you raised a brow, "I should have plucked your unbelievably pretty lashes when I had the chance."

"At least you acknowledge they're pretty, Princess," Hongjoong smirked.

"Crazy how the only thing remotely pretty about you are your lashes, but your ugly personality is just so overpowering that I only noticed your lashes when you were almost dead. Now what does that say about you?"

Yunho hooted, Seonghwa giving him a clap saying 'that's my girl', and Hongjoong clenched his jaw.

"I don't know if you're trying to flirt with me or fight with me," Hongjoong muttered, and you pretended to throw up.

"Flirt with you? I'd rather set my own self on fire, Prince."

"Would you now?" Hongjoong leaned in a bit, "Interesting."

"What is your problem?" You leaned in as if trying to figure him out, "Do you want me to hate you? Because you're doing a damn good job."

"You're really the Princess of Fire, aren't you?" Hongjoong smirked, "It's just so easy to get you all hot and angry, it's tempting, really."

"And you really are the Prince of Ice, aren't you?" You leaned back, "Should I melt that frozen heart of yours?"

"You're really bad at this," Seonghwa ended up laughing painfully, making all of you laugh with him, "I really can't tell if you're fighting or flirting anymore."

"I can't either," Yunho wiped his eyes from laughing too hard, "She really sucks at this."

Hongjoong danced in his seat in victory, but Seonghwa shook his head at him, "Your retorts are too weak, Hongjoong. You both are unbelievable."

"Hey!" Hongjoong yelled at him, "At least I'm not the one subtly flirting!"

"I'm not flirting!" You glared at him, the fire in the fireplace catching intensity, "You know perfectly well what I meant!"

"Yeah, go ahead, melt my frozen heart, Princess," Hongjoong grinned, pausing when your eyes glowed, and Seonghwa realized what was happening, instantly rushing to you and putting his hand on your shoulder but shrieking in pain because you were burning.

You hadn't meant to lose control, but something about Hongjoong... and the way he worded that- it reminded you of a particular incident from 5 years ago when you had that fight with the Water Prince, and you were triggered- you were feeling so hot. You were burning from the inside.

"Yunho- can you bring cold water, quick!" Seonghwa's eyes were wide with worry, and Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa in confusion and worry, then looked at you with your eyes glowing and hair rising as smoke seeped out from your skin, making you get up and fall on your knees on the floor.

Seonghwa noticed the guilt behind Hongjoong's eyes, "It's not you, Hongjoong. She went through something in the past- sometimes she gets triggered and this happens."

"Is there something I can do? She's burning from the inside, isn't she?"

Yunho came inside with a bucket of cold water and Seonghwa placed it in front of you, using his shadow-phantom hands to place your hands inside the water but it instantly evaporated, and before one of them could get up and get more, Hongjoong leaned in front of you, motioning to Seonghwa that it was okay.

"Hey," Hongjoong said softly, calling your name- you could hear him call your name but it felt as light as a whisper because of the roaring in your ear and the pain in your chest- you couldn't breathe. Hongjoong tried taking your hand but you shook your face absently as you flinched away, trying to tell him to be careful, but he took your searing hot hands anyway, and you reveled in how cold they were.

"It's okay, you can't burn me," Hongjoong whispered, taking your other hand as well and sending the cold inside your skin bit by bit, until you started to shiver and then fell unconscious on his lap.

"Well," Seonghwa wowed, "This definitely saved me from dragging her out and burying her in the snow and worrying my ass off for hours until she got okay."

Yunho winced as he heard that, "That bad?"

Seonghwa nodded, taking your limp figure in his arms, "Let's get her upstairs."

Hongjoong and Yunho followed, opening the door to your room and he lay you on the bed, spreading your blanket over you, checking to see if your necklace was okay. The other two looked around your room, finding it strangely empty as if no one lived here, only a few of your belongings in sight.

"She doesn't like getting attached to a place," Seonghwa explained, "she won't admit it but she's gotten very attached to her café."

"I can see why," Yunho nodded, "she practically lives there. This is only for sleeping, isn't it?"

"Pretty much," he smiled, "Let's go to sleep- it's late. She'll be out cold for a while too."

Hongjoong couldn't really sleep that night- he kept recalling how your eyes changed and you went in that trance, and something about it reminded him of when he was first caught and had given up, hence setting this never ending winter in motion.

Feeling a bit stuffy, Hongjoong decided to go out and get some air, wearing snow boots if he changed his mind for a walk, almost screaming when he shut the door, took a turn and saw you sitting in the snow with your knees drawn to your chest and bare feet and legs buried in the snow.

"Gosh, you scared me," Hongjoong muttered and scared you, making you flush because you hadn't expected to get caught sitting here like this. He sat beside you, "Are you... okay?"

"I am... I don't know," you looked away from him, "I still feel like I am on fire."

Hongjoong touched your hand to check- you weren't completely normal, you were still hot as if you were running a fever. "Do you always come and sit in the snow like this?"

"Seonghwa buries me in the snow or puts me in the tub and piles ice on me," you muttered, finding yourself laughing a bit at that and Hongjoong joined, "Usually does the trick, as stupid as it sounds."

"How long have you been out here?"

"An hour or more," you admitted, and Hongjoong shook his head.

"Let me..." he looked at you for permission and you nodded. He took your hand, interlacing his fingers with you, staring at your joined hands. "Does the siphon not work properly?"

"It does, it's just... the fire magic is too much for me. I feel like I wasn't build to handle it."

"You're built for the fire magic," Hongjoong assured you, "You have to embrace it. I don't wear a siphon- they did no good at keeping my own magic in control."

"Well," you scoffed, "You almost froze yourself too."

"I was trapped, of course I did. I felt helpless. But you... I won't ask what happened unless you want to tell me, but whatever happened... don't hate your magic because of that."

You stared at him, his eyes almost dark blue as tendrils of his hair fell over them. "Have you ever hated yours?"

"More times than I'll admit," he sighed, "with people like us... our relationship with magic really is a love-hate one, isn't it?"

You smiled as you nodded, already feeling better as you felt your body getting cooler, "It is. I think this winter was the first time I felt my magic was a blessing."

Hongjoong nodded- Seonghwa had mentioned something about how you were secretly making the fire in all the fireplaces in the town warmer, "I guess something good did come out of all this. But can I ask you something?"

You looked at him and he hesitated a bit before asking, "You could have left me to die. There was no reason for you to save me."

You heard the question behind that statement good and clear. You squeezed his hand, "You reminded me of myself. Nobody should have to die like that, all alone engulfed by their own magic. I knew the risk- I knew you could be a madman who was having fun with this winter, but even if you were, I couldn't leave anyone like that."

Hongjoong nodded, but it still didn't make sense to him. Were you just being kind? What was your reason? You laughed as you saw his confused state, "I didn't need a reason to save you, Hongjoong, it's as simple as that."

Hongjoong smiled not at your answer but because it was perhaps the first time you had called him by his name and not a sarcastic spat of his nickname 'prince'. As if you had heard his thoughts, you surprised him by saying, "Don't let it get to you, Prince."

Hongjoong laughed out loud for the first time in a while, and you smiled at how endearing and lively his laugh was.

"You know you sound better when you're laughing and not being an ass," you commented.

"Don't get used to it, Princess," he raised a brow at you and you rolled your eyes.

You didn't take your hand away from each other even when the both of you knew that there was no need to keep holding them anymore.

-----------------

If you had thought that last night's interaction was going to shift your hot-and-cold relation with Hongjoong, you were very wrong because the two of you were back to nonsensical bickering as if last night hadn't happened at all.

"Why would you waste your energy on boiling water again and again when all you could do was touch it!" Hongjoong threw his hands in the air, "Tell me, Yunho, how does this make sense?"

Yunho looked at you as if to ask you for your explanation, and you began, "Not everyone flaunts their magic at every opportunity, you cold piece of shit who sends blizzards out just for the heck of it."

Yunho snorted, "But he didn't do that on purpose?"

"I'm not talking about this time, I've seen enough random blizzards to know which were natural and which weren't," you glared at Hongjoong as if to prove your point, who didn't say anything because you were right, and then you turned to Yunho, "And you! Whose side are you on!"

"No one's," Yunho laughed, clearly enjoying this, "Was just asking, calm down."

"You're telling her to calm down? That's like asking fire not to burn you," Hongjoong muttered.

"Shut up and come for lunch," Seonghwa called and the three of you immediately got up, joining Seonghwa at the table, and Yunho commented on how Seonghwa was basically the mother of this house.

"I am, and what about it?" Seonghwa grinned proudly, making even Hongjoong smile.

"He loves doing this," you dig into the bowl of rice, "you should see him clean this place, he cleans as if-"

"I'm gonna have to stop you there," Seonghwa warned you and you immediately shut up, "Anyways, Hongjoong, can you tell me more about the people who are rebelling against the original bloodline? Because I think I have something to tell you guys."

"What is it?" You asked, but Hongjoong began.

"There are a very few originals and most of them have left this land to blend in with the humans, which I believe is because they got wind of the uprising, if you can call it that," Hongjoong glanced at you, "She and I are currently the only ones remaining, and since she... killed the Prince of Water-"

"But she did not kill the Prince of Water," Seonghwa said as if he was stating the obvious, and both Hongjoong and Yunho looked at you, Yunho more in surprise and Hongjoong more in amusement.

"Is that what she told you?" Hongjoong raised a brow, and Seonghwa put his chopstick down a bit too furiously, glaring at Hongjoong.

"I am an eye-witness, and if you do not believe this, you can get out of this house right now."

"Seonghwa, there's no need-"

Seonghwa only raised his hand, looking at Yunho and Hongjoong as if daring them to challenge his statement, and Hongjoong stared between you and Seonghwa back and forth as you said, "I told you, Seonghwa, that there is no need to keep defending me. I may not have killed the Prince but he died because of me-"

"He did not," Seonghwa glared at you this time, shutting you up- you two had argued enough about this already, "So?"

"I believe you," Yunho said and you looked at him in surprise, "If you had really killed him and made a 'spectacle' out of it, you would have killed me or Hongjoong too. You're far too kind and nice to have done that."

You felt the sudden urge to hug Yunho but instead found yourself waiting for Hongjoong's answer, and his icy blue eyes scanned you, "I mean... if you say so. Just saying what I heard."

"Well, I hope you get your facts straight," Seonghwa smiled as if nothing had happened and urged Hongjoong to continue, which he did hesitantly, "So the Prince of Water is dead... right?" You nodded, "That leaves only the two of us, as far as I know. I don't know how they haven't found you yet, but they got to me first- they have been after me for quite a while now. I just thought it was petty revenge or something at first but I heard the gossips, I heard them talk, so I know that it's a thing now."

"But what are they going to get from getting rid of us?" You frowned, "I mean, it's not like we're ruling this land or taking over their properties or something. We're just... kids, trying to live a normal life."

"That's what you and I know, and that's what people who know us know," Hongjoong looked at Yunho and Seonghwa, "But if I have to blame someone, I have to blame the Prince of Water. He strengthened the belief that the original bloodline thinks of themselves as superior and wants to change the flow of nature and whatnot. You know all that he did, don't you?"

Yunho nodded, "Most of the water mages weren't on his side, but when he started threatening his own kind... there was nothing we could do. And only the people close to the Prince know of how things got bad to the extent that the Princess of Fire had to intervene and put a stop to this, but that only enraged them, mostly because they thought that as water mages, they should have been the one to stop him, and because they suspected her intentions, that she was going to follow in his footsteps."

"That makes sense..." you nodded as you tried to digest all the information.

"What I don't understand is," Yunho began, shifting so he was facing you, "Why you weren't denying the rumours. What really happened that day, princess?"

Hongjoong raised a brow at how he'd called you princess- Yunho hadn't called you that much since you'd arrive here- hadn't been too long so you didn't feel awkward about it, but even Seonghwa smiled at the contrast between Yunho's and Hongjoong's way of calling you princess.

You pursed your lips, looking at Seonghwa- would they believe you? Seonghwa nodded- you knew he was urging you to try, and whether they believed you or not would say a lot about them and where you all stood.

But that's what you were afraid of. Yunho was your friend, and you knew it would hurt if he didn't believe you. Even Hongjoong, who was a little shit if you could sum it up, was something like a friend now and you cared about what they thought of you.

"It was my father- he told me to put an end to all this. He was sick- he had a leg problem so he couldn't go out and solve this feud with the Prince of Water. Apparently our fathers went way back. Anyways, I didn't expect things to spiral out of control- it started with a normal conversation with the water mages, some of my friends including Seonghwa with me. But then... it was like he was possessed. He started fighting with his own friends and it got physical, and then he took off his siphon and lost control. His mother had air magic so she tried to change the direction of the incoming flood but it was no use- she asked me to step in."

You sighed as you recalled the events, a shiver running down your spine, "I made the hurricane evaporate before it could touch the land, but somehow... it burned the Prince too."

"What do you mean?" Yunho frowned.

"Make a water ball," you asked Yunho, and he raised his hand in the air, making a water ball swirl in the air, and you sent fire for it, making it evaporate.

"It didn't hurt you, right?" You asked, and Yunho nodded, "But somehow, it burned the Prince. I didn't even realize- I turned and he was burning as if I'd set him on fire."

"But that's... impossible," Hongjoong frowned, "There's no way that could have happened."

"I saw it," Seonghwa looked grim, "I know she was only focusing on the flood- I could feel her magic better than anyone else since I'm familiar with it. But the Water Prince... I have suspicions that she was framed. That this was all a grand scheme to frame the Fire Princess but I was always confused because why would they need to do that?"

"Until you heard about the uprising," Yunho finished.

Seonghwa nodded, "I heard gossips too- even though I didn't tell you," he looked at you, "but it seemed too far fetched of an idea. But what Hongjoong went through, trapped for months... while you were gone, a few men came in this town asking if there was a fire mage here. I asked them what made them think so, and they said the fire is warmer than normal fire."

"And only a fire mage could have felt that," you narrowed your eyes as you leaned forward and tried to connect everything, "do you think even fire mages are in league with the uprising?"

"Mages of all kinds," Hongjoong assured you, "In fact, the ice mages were going to fetch a fire mage to end me, which was why I attacked you when I gained consciousness."

"I still don't hear you apologizing about it, you ass."

"Why should I? It was defence."

"It's called defence when someone attacks you in the first place!" You looked at him with disbelief in your eyes as he grinned shamelessly, throwing a little spark of fire for him which he caught between his fingers and turned to a snowflake, sticking his tongue out at you.

"You kids," Seonghwa shook his head, "Maybe the men came to fetch you to be the fire mage that ends Hongjoong, since they wouldn't have known that you were also the other original they needed to end."

"Plausible," Yunho commented, "Which means they'll be back."

Silence fell as you all thought about it, "Should we be prepared?"

You looked at Yunho, "I don't know. Should we?"

"It would be wise to prepare- you don't want to go through what I went through," Hongjoong looked at you, "it's not like you can hibernate yourself. Or would you turn yourself toast?"

You turned to him haughtily, "Do not test me, Prince."

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa warned, shaking his head, and Hongjoong was about to protest but he realized why Seonghwa was shaking his head- something about him taunting your magic would trigger you again, which led him to think just what had you gone through again.

"Anyways," Yunho got up, feeling the thick tension in the air, "We have two originals here, so we're better and stronger than anyone who comes. We just have to be careful and watch our backs for now, don't we?"

Seonghwa nodded and you got up as well, "I need to go to the market. Does anyone wanna come?"

Both Yunho and Hongjoong raised their hands and you folded your arms as you looked at Hongjoong, "Give me one solid reason why I should let you accompany me."

"And why aren't you asking Yunho?" Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at you.

"Because he won't be a pain in my ass during the short trip, Prince," you told him and Yunho did a silly dance to further spice it up between you two.

"I'll be on my best behaviour," Hongjoong promised.

You should have known he meant it sarcastically.

"You eat mint-choco?" Hongjoong made the most disgusted face he could muster as you were picking out ice-cream flavours.

"You're literally eating a rainbow ice-cream, you kid," you snorted.

"At least I'm not eating toothpaste flavoured ice-cream."

Yunho almost choked on his own ice-cream as he heard that, "You both should have settled on cookies and cream. Can you two let each other live?"

You both smiled as if you were enjoying this, and Yunho rolled his eyes, muttering 'get a room'. You picked another rainbow ice-cream.

"Ha, are you finally trying it?"

"It's for Seonghwa," you told him, and he gaped at you.

"Seonghwa's not a kid for eating rainbow ice-cream but I am?"

"He gets to be a kid sometimes because he's not being one 24/7," you looked at him pointedly, and Yunho laughed out loud.

"You guys are getting better at this!" Yunho clapped, "Definitely better than 'should I melt your frozen heart'- ow!"

You made Yunho shut up as you pinched his arm, noticing Hongjoong's attention elsewhere, following his eyes to see he was staring at the kids playing in the snow outside.

"I'll wait outside while you get the rest done," Hongjoong told you both and you nodded, taking Yunho with you as you walked down the aisles and Yunho read the grocery list Seonghwa had made.

You were utterly surprised, to put it simply, to find Hongjoong playing with the little kids and having a snowball fight when you went outside after the two of you finished shopping.

"I did not expect him to get along with kids," Yunho muttered, sharing your disbelief of the situation.

"He's literally cheating in the snowball fight," you laughed as you noticed how he was only pretending to make snowballs when in reality he had them ready in a matter of seconds.

You watched him laugh out loud as he ran from the attacks, throwing snow at the kids and running around, saving a little girl who must be on his team, stopping when he noticed you and getting hit with a snowball in the process, making the kids yell in victory.

"Are you done?" Hongjoong asked.

You nodded, waving the bags in the air, "Should we all have a snowball fight?"

Hongjoong smirked, and you made 3 teams, the kids joining you- but really...

This was war.

You were melting any attack that came for you, as was Yunho. Hongjoong's snowballs were turning into ice-balls now, hard ice balls and you yelled at him.

"You'll hurt us!" You glared at him, making a snowball and wrapping it in cold flame, "Have a taste of this!"

"You can't win against me, Princess," Hongjoong only waved a hand to deflect it, "I'd be surprised if you win against Yunho-"

Which was when Yunho sent a snowball for Hongjoong's face and it hit home, making you howl in victory.

"You!" Hongjoong laughed, sending a giant snowball for Yunho, "Have a taste of this!"

Yunho laughed, falling on his butt on the soft snow as he let the snow ball fall on him, popping out of it like a snowman, making the kids watching laugh and run to him as they shaped the snow.

"Kids!" You clapped your hand, grabbing their attention, "This guy here can make really good snowmen!"

The kids immediately ran for Hongjoong who rolled his eyes, Yunho thanking you as he got out of the snow, shivering. The two of you sat on a bench recovering from the cold while Hongjoong really did make the best snowmen of every sizes and shapes, teaching the kids how to.

You watched Hongjoong with mundane curiosity- it was like a veil had shed from his personality, revealing a simple person who enjoyed playing with the kids in the snow and laughed without a worry in this world. It made you wonder just who Hongjoong was- not the ice prince but simply Hongjoong.

Though you had only met a while ago, there was something comforting about the way you all clicked and though you'd never say it out loud, there was also something comforting about the nonstop bickering between Hongjoong and you. It was a nice change in your home- the café, because Seonghwa and you were the type to mostly stay silent and busy yourself with your own work. Having new friends certainly lifted up the mood.

Even the customers in your café liked Yunho- you supposed he was the type to make place in everyone's heart. Yunho had been helping around more in the mornings, mostly serving. Hongjoong was always hiding somewhere in the bookstore, and sometimes you'd catch him have a little conversation about books with someone who came to stop by.

Hongjoong noticed you hadn't commented on his behaviour since you guys had left the store, and he wondered whether it was because you were surprised (he hoped in a good way) or because you simply weren't interested and had nothing to say.

But his lips curled in a smile when you later sat with him late at night drinking coffee in front of the fireplace while Yunho and Seonghwa went out for a walk, and finally commented on it.

"You look like you had fun earlier," you said, keeping your voice neutral.

"I had," Hongjoong smiled, gazing at the fire, "it's been long since I had that kind of fun."

"What?" You laughed a bit, "You're telling me that you have ice magic but you didn't go around playing with the snow and making someone slip in the snow?"

Hongjoong looked at you, amused, "What do you think my life was like before everything happened? Do you think I owned an ice-cream truck and went around town?"

"You're seriously telling me you never made someone slip in the snow when they annoyed you?" You looked at him in disbelief.

Hongjoong held your stare but then gave in, "Okay, maybe once, maybe twice. I stayed low mostly. It's not like you used to go around setting people on fire, did you?"

"Not much fun you can have playing with fire," you nodded grimly, "But ice, man! If I had your magic I'd have a little snowman accompany me everywhere I go."

"Which would speak for how lonely you are," Hongjoong retorted, "Speaking about that, is Seonghwa the only friend you have?"

"And what about it?" You frowned, "You like him, don't you?"

"I do, it's just... how did you get here?" Hongjoong looked around, "I mean... how come you, of all people, run a bookstore café with their childhood friend?"

"That sounds like a backhanded insult, but I'll ignore that," you said and Hongjoong smirked, "We used to live in the same town, until that incident happened. Things got too much for me, every water mage was after me, and then some. I had to leave town, my family came with me. It was only mom and dad anyway. We settled in a nearby town, but then they passed away in an accident. I went back to Seonghwa, since he was the only family I had. We decided to move here then."

Hongjoong nodded, "Can I ask what kind of an accident it was?"

"I'm actually not sure," you replied, "some sort of a ship accident when they were going to Mist Island-"

You paused. The incidents couldn't be related, could they?

"I know what you're thinking," Hongjoong's voice was low, "there's a chance that it's connected to the uprising. But we can't be sure. Don't let it get to you- it might have been just an accident-"

"But..." you looked at him, "They drowned. If there were water mages on board, they would have lived, wouldn't they? Maybe they couldn't save everyone and that's understandable, but... maybe I should find the survivors and interrogate them."

Hongjoong noticed your choice of words, "Hey, we can't be sure. Don't attract unnecessary attention, your life's already in danger as we speak-"

"If there's a chance that it wasn't an accident," you breathed, the fire in the fireplace turning red, "and they died because of me, I won't forgive the water mages- and I mean all of them."

"Hey," Hongjoong got up, noticing your glowing eyes, bending in front of you as he put a hand on yours, cooling you down, "it's gonna be okay. We'll find out, okay? And remember- you don't have to blame all the water mages if that was the case. Yunho is your friend, and he's one of the kindest people we know, isn't he? He is a water mage, and he is your friend. Be wise about this, will you?"

You took a deep breath, nodding, the fire dimming back to normal, "Sorry, I- I nearly lost control, I'm sorry-" you noticed his hand on yours, taking it and examining it to check if it was okay, "I could have burned you, Hongjoong."

"You couldn't," he only smiled, "you can't burn me, you should know."

"I can definitely set your ass on fire," you raised a brow.

"I'd rather you melt my frozen heart, Princess."

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered unexplainably at that as you scanned Hongjoong's face, taking in his features, realizing you two were closer than ever with him bending down in front of you.

"I might burn and hurt you in the process," you managed to say, your voice barely coming out more than a whisper.

"Well, good for you," Hongjoong leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I like playing with fire."

You laughed a bit as he drew back and took his seat, smirking at you. "I'm not even sure if you were flirting or just being yourself."

"I can do both at the same time," he winked at you.

"Gosh, I should have left you in that tower," you finished your coffee, getting up, "You look prettier when you're hibernated and all frosty."

"At least you're admitting that I'm pretty, Princess," Hongjoong got up too, bringing his cup with him.

"Don't let it get to your head, Prince," you scoffed, mentally cursing yourself because Seonghwa was right- you sucked at this.

"You're prettier too," Hongjoong said, and you turned to look at him, finding him grinning devilishly, "When you're all angry and hot-"

You sent a bolt of fire his way and he snubbed it with merely a wave, making you send another for his butt which he dodged expertly.

"Come on, what did I say?!" Hongjoong cried out, laughing in disbelief when you started grinning.

"You like me angry and hot, I'm going to give you angry and hot."

You both kept sending fire and ice for each other, running around and laughing out loudly, cursing at each other and giggling like kids, not even noticing when Yunho and Seonghwa entered and stood in the doorway frozen while they watched you play like kids in your own little world.

"Should we maybe go for another round?" Yunho muttered, "I feel like I'm interrupting somewhere."

Seonghwa scoffed, "Fire and Ice? Who would've thought."

Yunho looked at Seonghwa and laughed, "You think they...?"

"I know that they are going to become a thing," Seonghwa nodded at him, smiling, "can't say I dislike the idea. Come on, let's give them five more minutes, then I'm ending this-"

You gasped as you realized the snowball Hongjoong had sent for you hit Seonghwa square in the face.

"I- I didn't mean to-" Hongjoong attempted to say but ended up laughing as he saw Seonghwa sigh in disappointment.

"Come out!" Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong, "Let's have a man-to-man snowball fight!"

Yunho stood grabbing Seonghwa's arm trying to hold him back but ending up in tears because he was laughing so hard as Seonghwa sent phantom hands and started dragging Hongjoong out, Hongjoong screaming in help, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, smiling.

"Let's not be kids about this," you told Seonghwa, who let go of Hongjoong.

"Rich coming from you," Seonghwa raised a brow at you and you blew a kiss at him, sticking your tongue out.

-----------------

You and Yunho were trying to practice your magic, you teaching him about the basic principles and how he should be able to control his magic better, and you discovered that Yunho was a quick learner, apart from being very patient and cooperative. It was probably why he learned and listened to you well, and he would do even better if-

If Hongjoong wasn't practically breathing down your necks as you taught him.

"Shouldn't he be learning from me?" Hongjoong questioned, "water and ice are related. Fire and water are enemies in all sense."

"It's actually better when you learn from your enemy- not that Yunho is mine," you said, "it's better when you know how to defend yourself against the magic that is the most threatening to you, don't you think so Yunho?"

"Definitely," Yunho nodded, grinning at Hongjoong, "you should learn a bit from her too."

"You're enjoying this way too much, aren't you?" Hongjoong scoffed, "ice and fire are equals, I'd say. No one lived to tell which one's better if they battled it out."

"Should we check and decide once and for all?" You offered, and Hongjoong raised his hands in the air in surrender, making you shake your head. You noticed Seonghwa coming out and propping himself in the chair next to Hongjoong with a knitting set in his hands.

"You should learn with me," Hongjoong told Seonghwa, "After all, what goes better than cold and dark?"

"Now don't you go corrupting my friend," you glared at him, ignoring when Hongjoong asked you just how he was 'corrupting' Seonghwa, turning back to focus on Yunho.

"Sorry for being distracted, Hongjoong doesn't let me breathe," you muttered, and Yunho told you it was okay, "so, where were we?"

"Water has memories," Yunho told you, "doesn't every magic have memories?"

"Water is always there, in one form or another," you told him, sitting down and touching the snow, "this snow was water at some point. But water bodies, like lakes and oceans, they have memories. So if it's been in contact with anything, you can access the memory."

"I've heard about it," Yunho nodded, running his hands over the snow- you stared shamelessly because at this point, you had a thing for his hands, "But isn't it like something specific to the Water Prince maybe?"

"No magic is specific only to the original bloodline," you corrected him, "We just have more strength of everything in our magic. If you train long and hard, you can open every chamber of your magic. You do know that even the originals can't access every chamber of their magic, don't you?"

"I heard you have to keep one or two closed so it doesn't consume you," Yunho looked at you and you nodded in confirmation.

"Since you're not an original, you don't have to worry about it consuming you- you can open every chamber because you'll only be accessing some of it- you can't delve in completely."

"That theory sucks, by the way," Hongjoong commented, "What if he ends up unintentionally focusing all his energy in one chamber? What if it consumes him?"

"It won't consume him if it's only one chamber- rather he'd become a master of it," you corrected.

"That's only your theory. No one has done it before."

"I know it works, Prince," you huffed, and Hongjoong was about to speak up but Seonghwa put a hand on his arm.

"Don't ask how, ever," he warned, "she went through literal hell herself to find this out."

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak but shut up instantly- literal hell? For you, literal hell could only be your own magic-

Hongjoong's eyes went wide in realization as Seonghwa nodded- it must have had to do something with the incident 5 years ago, he realized. He watched you put your hand through the snow and turn it into water- such control, such power... you must really have gone through literal hell to know all of this. It made him wonder just how it had happened. Had you lost control of your magic?

It was the next day when he got his answer as you rushed through the bookstore, row after row, to find Seonghwa but finding Hongjoong instead, and he took in your state.

"Everything okay?"

"Where's Seonghwa?" You asked, trying to catch your breath.

"He went out for grocery- what's wrong?"

"I have no time to explain, he's in danger," your eyes glowed for a second before you came back, "Help me find him."

Hongjoong immediately got up, not questioning how you knew, calling Yunho over and Hongjoong used his tracking magic, the three of you running to the site.

You had almost reached the store when you spotted Seonghwa's magic- phantom hands in the air as a signal, and you tugged Yunho's arm-

"Water mages," you looked at him, "You shouldn't go if you don't want to be in their blacklist."

"Seonghwa's my friend too," Yunho simply said as he took your hand and ran to where Seonghwa was.

Hongjoong stopped you, raising his hands and marking the men- there were 4 of them, and Seonghwa was barely holding, his face etched into a pained expression.

"Stay back," you said, "I'll handle this."

With that, your eyes glowed as you raised your hand and swiped it, knocking all of them unconscious in seconds and Hongjoong made an impressed face.

"That's certainly handy," he commented, and you shrugged, rushing to Seonghwa who was out of breath.

"I felt it- are you okay? Was I late?" You asked as you grabbed Seonghwa by the shoulders, examining him. He laughed a bit, patting your cheek.

"I'm fine, but you definitely could have arrived earlier- I was losing hope. But I guess the fire you put in my necklace definitely works."

"Sorry," you muttered but Seonghwa told you he was joking and that it was fine.

"Are all of them water mages?" Yunho frowned as he looked at the fallen bodies, "I don't think I recognize any of them."

"Seems like it," Hongjoong sighed, "We should do something about this before people notice."

Which was how you ended up with the 4 men tied to the chairs in your basement, waiting for them to wake up so you could start questioning them. When one of them stirred, you all met eyes and Seonghwa wrapped his dark magic around the man's hand, rendering him unable to use his magic. The man blinked a few times, adjusting himself to the surroundings, looking around and then ended up laughing like a maniac, which had you nervously bite your lip as you looked at Hongjoong.

"I didn't expect such a weird group of friends, Princess," he looked at each of them, "keeping friends close and enemies closer, aren't you?"

"And why would I need to keep my enemies closer? I'm sure you must have an answer to that?"

"I must say, I didn't expect the Ice Prince in your company," he scanned Hongjoong, his lips curling in a devilish smile, "Had a good time with my friends in the mountains?"

Hongjoong got up, circling around the man, "Who's behind this uprising?"

"Wouldn't you love to know," the man practically spat, his dark hair falling on his face, and when Hongjoong's eyes glowed in anger, you stepped in.

"If you value your life, you'll answer my questions," your eyes glowed and your voice was steel, "You do know I was framed for your Prince's death, don't you?"

His eyes flashed, "Is that an excuse for burning him to death? Is this how you're going to save your hide now?"

"Were you present 5 years ago when all of that happened?" Yunho asked, "Did you see the Princess burn him to death?"

"Who else could have?" The man scoffed, "What's your point, girl?"

"I don't care whether you believe me or not," you leaned in front of him, "Do you have any knowledge of the incident that drowned the rest of the original fire bloodline?"

Hongjoong called your name in warning while Seonghwa and Yunho gasped in realization, the man staring at you, thinking, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please," you scoffed, "All of Wonderland knows exactly how the last of the fire bloodline died, and you don't know what I'm talking about? Tell me, do you know the water mages that were on board? Or..." your hand was on fire now as you threatened to burn him, "Were you on board?"

"I wasn't!" He cringed away from the burning sensation that neared his hand, "I don't know the water mages who were!"

"I can smell the lies on you," you whispered, bringing your hand closer to his, "Would you like to burn to death like your Prince?"

Hongjoong called your name in warning again but Seonghwa stopped him and Yunho too, who looked like he would get up any second now. You waited until the man sighed, giving in.

"I may know one of the water mages who were on board- not personally. I'm not sure, but I think I have an idea- he goes by the name of Kwangsoo."

You nodded, taking a step away from him and he sighed in relief, Hongjoong making you back away further as he took over.

"Who sent you and who is behind this stupid idea to end the original bloodline?" Hongjoong's voice was as icy as his magic, making you shiver a bit as you joined Seonghwa and Yunho, Seonghwa rubbing your back.

"Does it matter?" The man asked, "It's been going around for decades now, longer before you were born, the both of you. It's only rising in magnitude now, that's why you noticed."

That was news to all of you- it seemed like the ones who were a part of the uprising were taught about how it began and all that too. Hongjoong made the man talk, learning some history and their plans with him and you, finally stopping and standing back with you.

"Shall we kill them or let them go?"

"I don't kill people," you raised your hands in surrender, "be my guest, do whatever you'd like."

So Hongjoong let them go with a message to convey to their little gang- do not mess with the Ice Prince and the Fire Princess, who're living in peace and will continue to do so unless provoked.

Later that night, Hongjoong joined you when he found you sitting bare-feet in the ice again, shivering a bit. He shook his head at you, "You know, you don't have to do this every time you feel as if you're burning- I'm here. I'm here for you."

Something about the way he said that made you look up and stare at him for a good minute, "I didn't want to bother you- plus, it's awkward to ask you to do that."

"So you're considerate and shy?" Hongjoong grinned, making you roll your eyes and throw a fistful of snow at him, "But really, it's not gonna be awkward if we don't make it."

"I'm not quite sure if I understand," you muttered, watching Hongjoong sigh and offer you his hand.

"Walk with me?"

The two of you walked with hands joined as he sent his magic to cool your insides down, and you suddenly felt wary of how it would look like to anyone else who noticed. Hongjoong looked like he was comfortable with this- you, however, were both comfortable and nervous.

"Earlier today... would you really have burned the man for answers?" Hongjoong finally asked you.

You pursed your lips, "I would say no but now that I think about it... I'm not quite sure."

"That's okay, you know?" Hongjoong squeezed your hand, "I think it's a bit suspicious- your parents' death. We should make sure, just in case, but... are you sure you can handle the truth?"

"That's exactly why I was out there in the snow thinking," you smiled sheepishly, "It would be ugly if I lose control again."

"Again?" Hongjoong asked, "When did that happen last time?"

"I suppose you should know," you looked at him, "When the Prince of Water was burned to death, I was the obvious suspect. I was... imprisoned, like you, for a while. That's how it happened- I ended up burning my own shackles and the very ground I sat on. They had to let me go- if it weren't for my father, I would have set Wonderland on fire."

"Ah," Hongjoong realized there really was a reason you were so considerate when you first saw him- he must have reminded you of yourself, "How do you think that happened, the Prince?"

"A simple trick of fire and an air mage is the most probable answer," you said, "We fire mages tend to burn a man from the inside out- not the outside, like setting a person on fire. Fire mages have a bit of a... dramatic flair, you could say."

Despite the seriousness of the topic, Hongjoong was grinning, "I heard ice mages make it dramatic too- slowly freeze a man."

"What a spectacle," you muttered bitterly, sharing a laugh with Hongjoong, noticing your still joined hands realizing you were okay now, "You can let go of my hand- I'm normal now."

"And if I want to keep holding on?" Hongjoong looked at you, his long lashes casting a shadow on his eyes in the strong moonlight.

"I really don't get you," you laughed, flushing despite yourself, "Do you have a thing for holding hands?"

"I like how warm your hands are, actually," Hongjoong raised your joined hands as if looking at them, "I may be the Ice Prince but I like the warmth, just like you like the cold."

"We're polar opposites," you stopped walking, "crazy how we fit with each other, isn't it?"

Hongjoong smiled warmly at you, tucking your hair behind your ear, patting your cheek, and you stood with lips parted, watching him scan your face until his smile grew into a smirk. "Flirting back, are we?"

"I really should have left you in that damned tower," you muttered, beginning to go away but Hongjoong pulled you back to him, wrapping his arms around you, never letting go of your hand. You tried wriggling out of his embrace as you groaned, but he only held you tighter, laughing a bit, and you couldn't tell if he was being playful or what.

"I'm gonna set your ass on fire if you don't let me go, Hongjoong," you warned, though you were smiling.

Hongjoong shifted so he could whisper in your ear, "It's been a while since I've hugged a human and not a snowman, Princess, let me be."

You weren't sure if he was joking or not, so you only stood awkwardly, finally melting into the hug after a few seconds. "You feel like a snowman."

"And you feel like home- warm and safe."

You finally wrapped your arms around him after that, letting him get his share of hug that he had craved so much, stealing warmth and cold from each other.

-----------------

"Either you go with me or you don't go," Seonghwa gave his verdict, turning back to cleaning the library while you stood with the broom in your hand and jaw clenched.

"It's dangerous, why don't you understand that if something happened to you, I won't be able to take it?"

"As happy as I am to hear that," Seonghwa let out a short laugh, "I'd rather we go together. I may not be an original but you know I can look after myself better than the others. And you're taking Hongjoong with you, someone you only met a few weeks ago. That hurts my pride."

That was a fact you could not deny, "But... Seonghwa, I wouldn't be too sad if something happened to Hongjoong now, would I?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Princess!" Hongjoong shouted from the other row where he and Yunho were arranging books, and you heard Yunho's breathy giggles, "Back at you!"

You pointed a thumb backwards, looking at Seonghwa smugly as if your point was proven, "See? We won't be sad if something happened to one of us."

"But Yunho's going too!" Seonghwa started cleaning furiously.

"We're using him as a guide and we're going to drop him off afterwards- maybe even earlier if the situation calls."

"I can look after myself too!" Yunho shouted.

"I'd be sad if something happened to you!" You shouted back.

"Hey, what's with the discrimination!" You heard a furious shuffle as Hongjoong came to you, laughing in disbelief, "You wanna go, Seonghwa? Let's go, all of us."

"Hongjoong," you warned, but you were cut off by him.

"They're adults, good with their magic and can take care of themselves," Hongjoong's voice was not sarcastic anymore, and you knew you were being unfair about this. You sighed, shaking your head as you went back to cleaning, and Seonghwa stifled his laugh when he saw steam rise from your head, deciding to not comment on it in case you really did burn his ass like you always threatened to.

The four of you shut the café and Seonghwa met with the grandma next door to tell her they'd be gone for a few days. Hongjoong didn't need to be told to wear a hoodie and cover his head- silver hair like his could be seen and recognized from quite a distance, and with the threat hanging on his head and yours, you guys were better off safe than sorry.

It was quite a week that you travelled- constant bickering between you and Hongjoong in the day but in the nights when both of you had trouble sleeping, you'd sit watch and get to know each other. You didn't realize how it became a routine- something you were beginning to look forward to, when the two of you weren't Prince and Princess but Hongjoong and... you.

Yunho and Seonghwa had been the most cooperative, as if they were afraid you'd both ditch them because it was dangerous and go on your own. Yunho learned his magic with you and Hongjoong while Seonghwa practiced his deadly magic as well- there really was a lot you could do with shadows and phantoms. But you realized with every passing day that the four of you got along really well, and that you were going to miss them when you would part ways. You secretly wanted to keep them all to yourselves, and you were going to offer them the mundane life of running the bookstore café with you before you'd part ways.

You were on your way to the coast where most of the water mages dwelled, having passed as a group of friends travelling. You all had ditched the idea of carriages after people started to notice Hongjoong and you- you supposed it was just the aura you both gave that caught people's attention. You and Seonghwa were just bickering over something stupid when Hongjoong heard an arrow whoosh your way and pushed you both to the ground, an ice shield automatically forming around the four of you.

You heard the distant yells of 'ice prince' along with the loud buzzing in your ears as Hongjoong shook you from your initial shock, and you pushed Seonghwa and Yunho behind you as you stood beside Hongjoong.

"There are 6," Hongjoong muttered, "They must have been following us for a while now. What do we do?"

"I'll handle this," Seonghwa stood up, and you watched a black smoke seep out of him as he sent phantom hands, knocking the men off their feet, but one of them sent a strong light your way which negated Seonghwa's magic and he shook his head.

"Drop the shield, Hongjoong," you said, "take cover, you two."

With that, you sent arrow after arrow of fire while Hongjoong both defended and attacked, Yunho yelling half in surprise and victory when he managed to create an ice shield of his own, Hongjoong sharing a grin with him. Seonghwa sat with his knees on the ground, sending an imperceptible thread of shadow and blinding the men.

"Should we run or should we do something about them?" Yunho asked.

"I say knock them unconscious and run," you muttered, "I'm not killing if you're not."

So you did that, tying the men together and leaving them in the middle of the forest to their fate while you continued travelling.

"This is exactly why I did not want you along with me," you glared at Seonghwa, "You could have been hurt and I could have done nothing about it."

"You could have been hurt too, if it weren't for Hongjoong," Seonghwa glared back, "What I'm saying is that we're in this together, whether you like it or not."

"I don't," you said, "and you both are staying with Yunho's family until we come back with information."

You and Seonghwa argued for a bit until Hongjoong intervened, telling you both to shut up. You huffed in anger and started walking a bit behind, Yunho joining you while Hongjoong gave you a knowing look- he'd made Seonghwa understand.

"You know she loves you a lot," Hongjoong said, "She wants you safe, and she doesn't want to worry about you."

"She thinks of me as a burden," Seonghwa sighed.

"No, she doesn't. She thinks of you as someone precious enough that she would lose herself if she lost you," Hongjoong smiled as he said that, "I think that's better than taking me as a scapegoat."

Seonghwa laughed, shaking his head, "She cares for you too, more than she'd like and would ever admit. I understand why she's comfortable with you- she thinks of you as an equal, someone who'll have her back without worrying the hell out of her- but she worries about you too- not the same reasons as me."

"Good to hear," Hongjoong was grinning and Seonghwa scanned his face, a knowing smile creeping on his face.

"You like her, don't you?"

"Me? Her?" Hongjoong barfed, "ew, no."

"You keep telling yourself that," Seonghwa laughed knowingly while Hongjoong brought his icy hands to cool his now warm cheeks.

Meanwhile, Yunho was patting your back. "I understand why you want us to stay, but... the way you talk to Seonghwa, I'm not sure he understands your intentions. Or if he does... he just doesn't like the way you voice them."

"And how do I talk?" You asked.

"Aggressively-caringly," Yunho laughed, "It's like watching siblings fight- they'll never admit they love each other but they'll also give their life for the other."

You finally smiled at that, "We'll be fine too, Seonghwa needs to understand. I know he understands, it just.... you said it," you laughed in defeat.

You reached the village where Yunho's uncle lived, recognizing the group of men you'd met that day during the mountain hike, and they welcomed all of you, including Hongjoong. They shut the windows, telling you all that you could be comfortable.

"Is there a reason why they aren't a part of the uprising like most of the mages?" You asked Yunho out of genuine curiosity as you examined the group of men who were playing board games, Hongjoong joining them in a game of chess and Seonghwa watching them excitedly.

"They really don't agree with the ideology," Yunho told you, "What's the point in killing the originals? There's always gonna be someone who's more powerful than the rest of us- it all comes down to whether they wield their power with the wrong intent or not."

"Exactly," Yunho's uncle propped down on your table, "The Prince of Water was my friend- he always thought of himself as superior. He had this planned for a while, and what happened to him... he had it coming."

"You do know who I am, don't you?" You asked, "you don't think I killed him?"

"You were just a little girl," he sighed, "I wasn't there, but my friends over there-" he pointed to Hongjoong's table, "they saw it, saw the whole thing. There was no way even an original could stop a flood and burn a man at the same time- plus I know how dramatic fire mages are. They don't set fire like that."

You smiled knowingly at Yunho, who smiled back, "Thank you for having us. It must be risky even for you- we won't be long here, just take care of my friend Seonghwa till we come back."

"Are you going to inquire about the ship accident that drowned your parents?" He asked, and you nodded- he was quick. "There's no use inquiring around. I know it was done on purpose- there were water mages on the ship, but they aren't to blame- it was one of the Illusioners."

"Illusioner? As in people who can make you think your magic isn't working and stuff like that? Aren't they extinct or something?"

"They live in a close community, the few remaining ones. I heard one of them was aboard. That's the only explanation that makes sense as well."

He was right, and this changed everything. After a quiet meal where you sorted your thoughts out, you hugged Seonghwa and Yunho, telling them to stay safe and wait patiently.

"I don't know how long it's gonna take, but if I'm dead, you'll know it. So don't go back before that."

"Don't say things like that," Seonghwa scolded, hugging you tighter, "You better come back."

With a kiss to your forehead, he let you go, and Yunho ruffled your hair, the two of you waving at and thanking everyone for their hospitality, donning your cloaks and setting out, the salty tinge of seawater in the air hitting your nostrils now that you had been inside for a while. Upon the instructions, you both took the ship that lead to Mist Island, where the Illusioners should be.

You told Hongjoong all about what you'd learned, and he agreed with that theory- it was the strongest lead you had so far. You had to find the person responsible for the accident, but...

"I don't know what I'm going to do once I find the Illusioner," you told Hongjoong when night time fell and you sat at the edge, watching land fade away.

"If you want me to... I could kill him for you."

You looked at Hongjoong in surprise, but his eyes were steel. He really meant it. You shook your head, "Would that solve anything? It would only fuel the uprising if people learn we killed one of the rarest mages."

"What are we going to do about the uprising anyway?" Hongjoong asked, "They're gonna keep coming after us. I don't want to leave Wonderland, even if it feels unsafe."

"You have a home with me, Hongjoong," you looked at him, "You don't have to go anywhere."

"I thought you couldn't stand me, Princess," Hongjoong scoffed, "Are you really offering that?"

"As long as you stop being a pain," you told him, making him laugh, "but really. Isn't it cool, us 4 running the café and just living life? We could expand the business. You could open an ice-cream truck right outside, maybe go around town, grow a beard like Santa."

Hongjoong shook his head at you, "You really enjoy my suffering, don't you?"

"Can't say I don't," you grinned.

"Thanks for the offer," Hongjoong sighed as he looked at the sky, "I'll think about it."

"Look at you pretending to think about it- you even left your stuff back there!" You slapped his arm, and he gasped in realization, "Should we make a detour and go to the tower, get the rest of your stuff too?" You teased, "I'd like to bring home the ice chandelier-"

Hongjoong flicked your forehead, making you howl in pain and try to flick his forehead but he leaned back, making you lean further in until you were almost on top of him and he had to hold your waist to keep you from falling. "If you wanted to be on top of me, you could have asked nicely."

You rolled your eyes, going back to sitting and Hongjoong only laughed at your embarrassed state, putting an arm around your shoulder and bringing you closer, cuddling into your side. "You're very clingy, Prince."

"You love it, Princess."

You made a face but you were too tired to argue further, so you put a head on his shoulder as the two of you watched the calm waves of the sea pull you further away from Wonderland.

The next evening, you reached Mist Island, the mountains large enough to make you shiver a bit- it had an eerie feel to it, just like its name. "Funny that it's called Mist Island," you said, "I really can't see much."

Hongjoong nodded- there was a strange fog spread over the surface of the ground, making the place seem haunted, the only reason you weren't scared being that it was day and it felt okay. "You think someone make this fog on purpose?"

"Definitely," you grinned, "If I had an island to myself, I'd have an eternal fire burning somewhere too- for the people to recognize it from far away."

Hongjoong laughed at that, "How dramatic."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Have you forgotten how you built a freaking ice palace? With the ice chandelier? You're seriously gonna call me dramatic when you look like that? Have you dyed your hair, Prince?"

"I have not!" Hongjoong pouted, "Stop giving me shit about my appearance!" You grinned- you actually were pretty sure that you had a thing for Hongjoong's hair now- it was just such a beautiful shade of white and silver and the faintest hint of blonde, and it went so well with his icy blue eyes. "You can stop staring at me now, Princess. I'm not even sure what you're thinking, and I'm not sure I wanna know."

"Come on," you poked his arm before putting yours around his, "you know I like your hair."

"Do you now?" Hongjoong smirked.

"Nah, I just said that to make you feel better," you rolled your eyes, "Can we move now?"

Hongjoong pouted and was muttering some curses while you dragged him further into the island, trying to formulate a plan but getting distracted whenever Hongjoong pointed at something or teased you over something, and you wished you had Seonghwa with you- he was the only one who could shut Hongjoong up.

You were just walking through the forest following the sound of the city when a woman stepped in front of you all of a sudden, seemingly appearing from the fog, making you bite your tongue to keep from screaming.

"The original fire and ice mages," the woman scanned you both and you instinctively held on to Hongjoong tighter, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

You couldn't feel any magic from her, and she looked normal enough- dark hair and darker eyes- but something about her was making the magic in your blood scream. "We come in search of the Illusioners. Just some questions to ask- all in peace," Hongjoong assured, and you nodded.

The woman let out a short laugh, "In peace? Questions? I don't think those two go well together," she suddenly put her hands up and you reacted instinctively, creating a shield, but-

You failed.

Your magic wasn't working.

"You're an Illusioner," you muttered, and she grinned, making you both drop to your knees, and you had no time to look how Hongjoong was holding up, seeing more people join the woman before everything went black.

-----------------

You woke up in chains again.

You weren't sure if this was a dream or reality, but when you saw Hongjoong chained in front of you, his skin going paler and frost spreading on his lips and eyelids, you realized this was real. You really were chained, yet again.

Just like 5 years ago.

"No, no, no," you mumbled, staring at your gauntlets, preventing you from using your magic, and you panicked. You had no time to think, no time to plan, you just panicked as memories crept up your mind-

You were burning, and you would die.

There was nothing left in this world anymore. Just burning, hot fire. You were going to set Wonderland on fire before burning from the inside out.

You shook your head- there was no time to dwell on the past memories that always triggered you, now was not the time to be triggered and start burning from the inside out, but-

You couldn't help it. You could feel your magic roiling restlessly inside you.

You were going to burn from the inside out, and there was no Seonghwa to help you-

"Hongjoong," you almost whispered, looking around- you were in a basement, of all the places, just like that time, "Hongjoong!"

He didn't stir. He was out cold, and he was probably freezing from the inside too, just like you were burning. His head was hanging painfully to his side, chains around his waist holding him half-up like yours were.

You couldn't burn- not without getting Hongjoong out. You had to save Hongjoong, just like he had saved you so many times without even knowing. Just like you had saved him when you first met him.

You shut your eyes, trying to stop your restless magic from clouding your brain as you tried to think- these gauntlets were somehow presenting you from using magic altogether. Five years ago, you didn't have the ability to use magic without your hands, but this time it seemed it didn't matter.

You were so scared- for Hongjoong, more than yourself. For the innocent people on this island. For the destruction you'd cause if you lost control. Just what was the Illusioner thinking when she tied you both like this? Did she not know the amount of destruction you were capable of if you lost control?

Illusioner. Makes you think you are unable to use your magic.

Was this an illusion? Or were your gauntlets an illusion?

You looked down at your gauntlets, wondering if they were real. It certainly felt real- especially since it weighed your hands down, but... were they just for show? Could you somehow use your magic itself to break through the illusion?

You concentrated the magic to your hands- to hell with it if the metal would burn and melt the flesh on your hands. This was your only chance at making it out alive and saving Hongjoong and the rest of the island.

I am the Princess of Fire.

You brought your hands to the siphon, struggling to turn the notches down so you could have access to your full powers.

I am the Princess of Fire, and I will not be afraid of my own magic.

You shut your eyes in pain, willing your magic to travel to your hands, melting the gauntlet.

I will not be afraid of my magic, because it cannot burn me.

These were the last words your father, the original fire mage, had told you to keep close to your heart, because as soon as you were scared of your magic, it would start hurting you. You never understood why and how you could not be scared of the magnitude and hazard of your magic, but now it was starting to make sense.

Your mother had always told you that there needed to be something you wanted to protect- if not your own self (which should be the case), something so precious to you that you would risk your life to protect that. As you opened your eyes and looked at Hongjoong, you understood what she meant.

It was crazy how you had such a soft spot for the Prince of Ice you'd met only a few weeks ago. You'd never expected him to care about you either, but he clearly did. You'd learn how his family had left Wonderland in the fear of their life, but Hongjoong felt at home here- despite the threat to his own life. Despite going through something similar than what you had- what had broken you down completely. You were in awe of how strong he was- he embraced his magic, even when it hurt him like it was hurting him now. He only needed someone who believed in him to be okay.

You recalled your conversation from one of the nights when you were on your way to the coast and couldn't sleep, Hongjoong with you for 'night watch' as you both stared at the full moon. You finally asked him how long had he been imprisoned, since the winter season had come naturally enough but it only had gotten prolonged.

"5 months," Hongjoong sighed, "give or take."

"5 months?" You gaped at him, and he only smiled, "That's crazy, Hongjoong. How did you not, I don't know, freeze from the inside out, become an ice statue and shatter while engulfing Wonderland in some crazy blizzard that would freeze everyone too?"

Hongjoong laughed at your panicked state, "I think it's because I came to terms with my magic or something like that. I used to hate my magic too- people always said I felt too cold, even to the touch. My hair wasn't always white as well, believe it or not-"

You let out a scandalous gasp and Hongjoong slapped your arm before continuing, "People started to hate me, and I first thought I was the problem, but then I realized that I really wasn't. Those who actually care stick with you, whether you look like and feel like a snowman or not."

"Well," you grinned, "you make a pretty snowman. But, Hongjoong, you know I was imprisoned too. I barely made it three weeks before I started to melt everything around me. It's impressive that a prolonged winter was the only thing you really caused."

"You really should love yourself more, Princess," Hongjoong caressed your hair with a sad smile, and you noted how this time he didn't have that sarcastic tone every time he called you princess, "You should know that you matter, if not to anyone else, than to yourself. If no one's gonna love you, you have to love yourself."

"I have Seonghwa," you said, "And I had my parents- I know they loved me... but- then why was I so weak?"

"You weren't weak," Hongjoong shook his head, "Don't ever think of yourself as weak. The fact that you didn't set Wonderland on fire but only started burning from your own self before anything else, that means you didn't believe in yourself. Sometimes it happens- no matter the amount of people who love you and believe you, you end up doubting yourself."

"And I suppose in your case, since no one believed in you... you believed in yourself?"

Hongjoong nodded, "Well, you have one more person who believes in you now. Give yourself some credit, Princess. You're stronger than you think you are. Know why? Because despite the fire in your body, that fire doesn't drive people away- it attracts them. The people in your town know that you are the Princess, they just don't show it- because they believe in you. You keep them warm. I have heard them talking about you and how their homes are always warm. You heal the people's hearts without even realizing."

You gaped at Hongjoong- you had never realized the people knew. But... they had always been good to you. You had sometimes suspected that they knew, but now that Hongjoong confirmed it...

You stared at the gauntlets, watching it melt away and fall apart with a crack- it didn't hurt you. You stared at the broken gauntlets in confusion, your mouth opening in surprise when the gauntlets faded into smoke-

The gauntlets were an illusion.

You looked at Hongjoong- he probably didn't realize this was an illusion and was fighting with something inside his head- he was frowning. Perhaps he was battling with his magic. You melted the chains- those were real, and rushed to Hongjoong, touching his face and flinching away at first, because he was beyond ice cold.

You cupped his face, holding it up as you drew his hair back, "Hongjoong, listen to me. Everything is an illusion. You can break free. Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong groaned in response- he didn't seem well. You joined your foreheads, spreading warmth on his body through the skin contact, whispering his name again and again, drawing back when his groan went louder, your hands never leaving his face.

He finally opened his eyes, the frost on his lashes melting away as he looked at you in confusion. "Those gauntlets aren't real," you told him, "it's an illusion, Hongjoong. You can break free. Come on, you can do it."

"Help me," he looked down at his gauntlets and you understood, sending your magic through them, just like that time, while Hongjoong sent his ice magic, making the gauntlets crack and fade away, and he flexed his now free hands, looking at you in surprise as his vision became clearer, as if the mist on his eyes was now gone.

"That was quick," you muttered, laughing, and Hongjoong- still in his chains- bent forward to cup your face, his hands now warm, joining your foreheads again.

"You melted my frozen heart, Princess," he breathed, "exactly how I wanted you to."

You don't know who did it first, but you were kissing each other, quick and good before drawing apart, "We have to get away first, Prince."

With that, you broke apart his chains and melted the door knob, "As long as you realize that the only thing stopping your magic is you, you can break free of any illusions, understand?"

Hongjoong nodded, and the two of you went up the stairs, knocking out two mages before ascending, finding yourself in a dark lobby, instinctively holding on to each other. You heard some movement at your back and lit a fire around the source, trapping the same woman that you'd met. She panicked for a second, and then the fire went out-

"It's still there, the fire," Hongjoong whispered, "she's just making it seem like it isn't."

"Well, well," the woman scoffed, "Didn't expect you two to be so... chummy."

"I need answers, or you burn to death," you left Hongjoong's hand to bring the fire closer to the woman, inch by inch, "Which one of you Illusioner bitches was on board on the ship that killed my parents?"

"You can't kill me- you won't. Just like you couldn't kill the Prince of Water. Just like you couldn't kill the people who imprisoned you. Because your heart is soft, Princess."

"Her heart may be soft," Hongjoong was seething, "But mine isn't."

Your circle of fire burned blue- the hottest of flames, and the woman let out a scream as the fire spread barely inches away from her, "Tell me, Illusioner. Who is responsible for her parent's death?"

"Would you let me go if I told you I was?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Is this your way of saving your friend- or whoever it is you're taking the blame for? Because I don't think you should be doing that when you could burn to death."

"It was me," she glared at you both, "It's true that it was a natural accident- there was only one water mage aboard and he minimized the damage, but some people were bound to die. I just made sure your parents were one of them- I wouldn't have noticed there were fire mages aboard if they hadn't used their magic to try and save people."

You expected your knees to go weak and fall, maybe cry, but you only nodded absently, Hongjoong putting a hand on your shoulder, whispering your name.

"Leave her here, like this," you said to Hongjoong.

"NO!" The woman screamed, putting her arms around herself, her forehead glistening from the sweat, but you smirked.

"You're an Illusioner huh? Maybe make yourself believe there's no fire surrounding you and try stepping through it?"

With that, you turned and grabbed Hongjoong's hand, going outside, noticing a circle of blue fire around every Illusioner and you gaped at Hongjoong. He grinned, "Didn't want anything interrupting you, Princess."

"I didn't even notice," you sighed, "Let's get the hell out of here."

------------------

"I win," Yunho announced, raising his arms in victory as he slumped back on his chair, making the three of you gape.

"Not fair!" Hongjoong looked at him in disbelief, and so did you.

"He's one lucky guy," you scoffed, sharing a laugh with Seonghwa.

"Play games with Yunho, 10 out of 10 times you lose," Seonghwa laughed, all of your attention drawing to the door when the bell sounded and customers entered. Seonghwa got up, gathering the dices and cleaning the table, Yunho going to the counter to take their order.

"Walk with me?" Hongjoong asked, and you smiled, telling Seonghwa you'd be back in a while.

"I could get used to this," Hongjoong smiled as you two walked the empty path to the river, no one out so early in the morning.

"This?" You raised your joined hands, wriggling your eyebrows.

"I was talking about us running your bookstore café and living such a mundane life, but-" Hongjoong brought you closer with a smirk, "I could also get used to this."

It had been a couple of weeks since the encounter with the Illusioners on Mist Island- the fire circles that had trapped the mages were actually hot enough to make them sweat but cool enough to not burn them, leaving them confused and panicked until one of them would take the risk and realize it was only a trick- an illusion. You had both left with a simple message- do not bother us. Don't try to interfere in our lives, and we won't interfere in yours. It was relatively peaceful now- the uprising had died down a little since the mages you'd encounter so far had all made it out alive, which sent a clear message- you meant no harm.

You'd gone back to Wonderland and Seonghwa had almost cried when he saw you unscratched, and Yunho had decided to join you after all- but he joined you a week later, after wrapping up everything back home. The bookstore café was your home now- you'd clear up the store room so the boys could have an extra room, but you guys tended to fall asleep wherever you liked- you loved that it was so comfortable.

It was also really, really comfortable with Hongjoong- ever since that day, you guys were back to your routine of teasing each other until one of you screamed in frustration, but then finding comfort in each other's arms too, sharing light kisses every once in a while as you tried to figure out the change in your relationship and what exactly it meant.

You shook your head at Hongjoong who was muttering sinful things in your ears- something to rile you up and make you blush furiously, but you knew he'd never even touch you without your permission.

"I really, really want to kiss you right now," Hongjoong whispered in your ear, "And cover you in frost."

"You could do that," you said, "And I could cover you in ashes. I'm sure the black soot would look great on you."

"So romantic," Hongjoong laughed, the two of you sitting down by the river, and you looked at Hongjoong- his skin looked warmer now that winter was gone, his white shirt making his hair shine even brighter. Hongjoong turned to look at you, "What are you looking at?"

"You," you bit your lip as your hands travelled to his neck, bringing him in for a kiss.

This time it wasn't the light kisses and pecks you'd been sharing for weeks now- you wanted to dive further. You did as you leaned into him, a groan of surprise leaving him as his hands snaked to your waist, shifting you on top of him so he could meet the fervour of your kiss better, smiling into it.

"You're burning hot right now, you know that?" Hongjoong laughed a bit, your pink cheeks looking lovely to him.

"Good thing I have you to cool me down, isn't it?" You almost whispered.

"Gosh, I think I love you, Princess," he smiled widely as he caressed your face.

"You think?" You laughed, pushing him back on the soft grass as you kissed him, "I think I can tolerate you now, Prince."

"See? This is why I like you," Hongjoong muttered, and you slapped his cheek lightly.

"Shut up and let me kiss you."

"Make me."

You did. And as you pinned his hands on the ground, frost in the shape of flames sketched itself on the grass, leaving a trace of all things good.

You were the Fire Princess, and he was the Ice Prince. And you couldn't have been more perfect for each other.

1K notes View Post

that-jax

2 years ago

Late Nights

word count: 656

genre: fluff, slice of life

pairings: diluc x gn! reader

warnings: none

additional notes: this is my first post so please be easy on me lmao

Want to be tagged in my works click here

The cool evening air felt good against your skin as you walked through Mondstat. The day was long, spent outside the walls running commissions and fighting different camps. All of the running around left no time for your usual stop in with your lover around noon.

Angel’s Share is quiet when you enter, only the noise of glasses clinking every once in a while. You take a quick glance around until your eyes land on the red of Diluc’s hair. He stands tall behind the counter, his usual jacket thrown on one of the bar stools and his sleeves are rolled to above his elbow.

“Angel’s Share isn-” He looks up “- [Name], hello dear.” He sends you a small smile as you step towards him, turning around to grab a glass for you. You observe him as he does so, noting how his ponytail has fallen since this morning, and how tense his shoulders seem even though it is just the two of you.

He places a glass filled with grape juice, his special blend, in front of you as you sit down. You grab the glass and take a sip, savoring the taste as he continues his routine cleaning. You watch him for a moment, appreciating how calm he stands when in only your presence. “How was your day love,” you ask, while leaning your head into one of your palms. Your head tilts towards him as he starts to speak, “it was alright dear. The tavern ran as usual today and, of course, both Kaeya and that pesky Bard were here until I had to kick them out.”

He made a face at the fact, “My patrol this morning was pretty normal, though there are a few Fatui camps closer to the walls that weren't there before.” He takes a quick glance at your face and sees you looking at him already. When you both made eye contact you shoot him a small smile, though the way you were looking at him was enough for his face to heat a little.

He placed down the glass he had just finished cleaning and walked closer to you from behind the bar. He grabbed your hand as he got closer and kissed the back, leaving a slight color to your face as well. “And how was your day dear,” he questions.

He throws the towel to rest over his shoulder and leans forward to rest his forearms on the bar across from you. He watches you as you talk about how busy your day was, apologizing about not being able to stop by earlier that day, to which he shakes his head at.

He watches the way the low lighting of the tavern makes your skin glow, and how your eyes light up as you speak of a Snapdragon you saw in Springvale that reminded you of him. Diluc continues to admire you, quite obviously, until you notice that he has said nothing to what you are saying.

You look at him only to notice that his eyes are set on you, and the most serene expression is on his face as he watches you, lost in thought. “Love-” you question, tilting your head slightly “-is there something on my face?” “No dear, I was just enjoying how you looked as you spoke of your day.”

You turn away blushing, trying to hide your face from his view. He chuckles slightly as he stands to his full height, grabbing your now empty glass to clean it off quickly. You take these few seconds to reign in the color on your face.

You feel a hand on your lower back, you recognise the feeling of Diluc’s gloves. You look at him to realize he has put his jacket and gloves back on. You stand, pushing in the bar stool you were sat on, and take the arm that he offers you. “Ready to go home my dear?”

taglist:

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* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

238K notes View Post

that-jax

3 years ago

Better

Kang Yeosang x reader

enemies to lover au

word count: 9.4?k

genre and warnings: angst, suggestive, violence

synopsis: ateez au in which kang yeosang and you are sworn enemies belonging to rival gangs until you both are at the mercy of a common enemy and have to work together, discovering those strong feelings you had for each other might not be hate.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

Days. Months. Years?

You had no idea how much time had passed, but you finally opened your eyes and saw light- the door to your cell opened and a tall figure stood with another figure which was now pushed roughly to the concrete floor, hands cuffed, a groan of pain escaping them.

You squinted your eyes, the world a blur as you tried to make what you could see of their face- who was it this time?

The figure finally got up on its knees and sighed, having sit back, their shoes brushing against your feet, and you wished it was day so the sunlight would have revealed the identity of the figure.

"Are you... okay?" You managed to say, your throat parched. In this pitch dark, you couldn't make out anything, and you were glad, because you weren't sure the figure in front of you would like the sight of you-

"You sound strangely familiar," the voice said- clearly a man, and very, very familiar to you too.

In fact, you recognized him instantly.

Kang Yeosang.

But it couldn't be. What was Kang Yeosang, basically the right hand to his boss doing in your cell?

But then, what were you, also your own boss' most trustworthy employee and his assassin doing in this cell?

"I'm sure you don't know me," you scoffed internally at the irony of the situation. Kang Yeosang, your worst nightmare and enemy, now in front of you. You should take this chance and kill him, except you were tied to the post as well, and you were in no condition to move.

"I'm sure I do, actually," you could hear the haughtiness in his voice which indicated that yes, he recognized your voice too. You suddenly regretted the pointless verbal arguments and fights you've had with him over the years which had left your voices printed in each other's memories- as well as habits, such as-

"Fancy seeing you here."

- how to make you angry instantly.

But it went both ways.

"Miss me too much, Yeosang?" You laughed sarcastically, "Can't spend three days without seeing me?"

As a matter of fact, he was used to seeing you, and you him. You both worked for the top drug dealers- rivals though sometimes business partners. And nothing was dramatic about it save for the fact that you and Yeosang hadn't hit it off very well and had infamously become sworn enemies, both of you bent on driving the other to the edge.

"How many days do you think have passed?" Yeosang asked, genuinely worried because you thought it had only been three days. And you dreaded answering because you weren't sure you would like what you had to hear.

"Don't tell me," panic laced your voice, and in that moment, an understanding passed between you two- and both of you were glad the other couldn't see your face.

"How did you even get here?" You asked, "I didn't think you could slip. Losing your touch already?"

"Well, you wouldn't believe it," Yeosang's voice was low, "But it's a deal between our gangs gone wrong. I came to save you."

"Ha," you scoffed loudly, "As if."

"I'm not lying," Yeosang simply said, "You've been missing for 3 weeks now. We were working together after all, even though I hated the idea of it from the beginning. And when you got taken, your boss might have... lost it a bit."

Though you did feel as if a bucket of water had been dumped on you because 3 weeks? but you had to scoff at the mention of your boss.

"As if he cares."

The bitterness with which you spat those words had Yeosang raising his brows. His own boss, Hongjoong, was like a friend to Yeosang, so he couldn't imagine why you were so bitter. Were you not close to your boss?

"He does, I guess, because he chose me to get you. Though now that I'm here... I think it was a wrong decision. Maybe I should just get out of here alone..."

"Did he really send you?" You had to ask, "I can't imagine why- oh."

You had almost forgotten about it, and you loudly cursed as you realized just why your boss cared so much about getting you back-

You had the key.

The key to all his wealth that he had slipped in your hand when you both had found yourself at your enemy's den, the small key that you had hid in your shoe first, occasionally changing its spot according to the situation.

"Oh?" Yeosang echoed, "Must be a big reason."

"Oh you have no idea," you had to laugh, "You have no idea."

Silence fell as you thought about the whole situation, finally breaking it as you said, "Think about it- my boss sent his rival's right hand- basically an enemy- to retrieve me. Now what value would a person like me have? Why did he not send one of his cronies?"

"Ah," Yeosang said, "You either have or know something that's valuable to him, and he can't let you die right now."

"Bingo," you said, "And now that I have the chance, I would die before letting him have it."

Yeosang was shaken at your words- just what had you gone through these past three weeks? And what fate awaited him?

"What's happened to you?"

"Worry about yourself," you sighed, "you're gonna regret making a deal with my boss real soon."

And regret he did, to some extent.

He blamed himself for getting caught and being put in this tiny cell. As daylight poured and woke him up from his sleep, he looked at you and his heart sank dangerously at the sight of you-

Your button up shirt was okay from the front, but tattered at the back, hanging only from the sleeves, covering your front- but your back had to be bare and he couldn't see it. Your hair was matted to your face and neck and fell down messily, and your face-

So pale. Void of colour. Your cheekbones were protruding rather sharply, and Yeosang had to commend you because you were still hanging on to life even though you looked as good as dead.

You were one stubborn soul, after all.

"Like what you see?" A voice boomed and Yeosang's head whipped to the source- one of the men who had caught him watching you from the window.

Yeosang didn't dare reply as he unlocked the door and arrived with a tray of food- rather good treatment seeing the food consisted of rice and chicken and put it in front of Yeosang, injecting a drug in him- the same drug they had used to catch both him and you- rendering him weak enough to not fight back but not weak enough to not eat his own food.

"Eat," he ordered, "Boss has asked for special treatment for you- maybe your boss is good to you, after all. He's trying to strike a deal to get you out unharmed. As for her-"

The man looked at you and you grinned at him, infuriating him (because why not?) and he went out for a moment, coming with a bowl of soup only, pushing it on your lips and forcing you to drink, drops of it dripping down and your tongue burned because it was too hot but you couldn't retort- you had to eat whatever they gave or else you'd starve.

But Yeosang there had lost his appetite at the sight of this- why wasn't your boss trying anything to get you out, he wondered? Especially when you supposedly had something he wanted? Was he scared the enemy would figure out? Or was he just a coward, hoping you'd die with the item in question?

Why were these people keeping you alive then?

Just what had you caught yourself into?

Yeosang took a chicken leg and hid it behind him, his hands shaking from the effects of the drugs, eating the rest as the man watched him the whole time, saying he'd be back in an hour so they could go to relieve themselves.

As the man shut the cell and went away, Yeosang waited for a good five minutes before calling your name and grabbing your attention.

"Just what have you caught yourself into?"

"Forget that," you said, your eyes bright as you worked out a plan, "Can you get me out of here? Or will you go alone?"

"Of course I will get you out," Yeosang said, and you raised your brow at the quick response- it didn't sound right coming from his mouth, since you two, in normal circumstances, would have done anything to get the other in trouble. And Yeosang understood, rolling his eyes, "They're basically torturing you here. And even though we're... enemies, as everyone likes to call us... I wouldn't wish this sort of a treatment on anyone."

"Not even me?" You smiled.

"Not even you."

You were impressed- he had principles, after all.

"Okay, here's the plan. When that scumbag comes back and takes us, you need to somehow get close to the man and take one of his hairpins out- keep it hidden. Don't reveal it until we're back and I say so- you'll be tied and so will I, but you need to give me the pin before you get out, Yeosang, you hear me? From the looks of it, your boss is gonna get you out by tomorrow night. Can you do this for me?"

Yeosang nodded, figuring he could do that for you, but still surprised at how you believed you were doomed if not for him.

And he really couldn't stand how tired you looked- as if you had given up altogether. Your hands tied up made it difficult for you to sit in a position other than being on your knees- and it was brutal. And about your back-

He had a glimpse, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see what damage they had done.

So one hour later when the man came and drugged the two again, waiting for a minute before uncuffing the two and dragging you both rather easily to the toilet, Yeosang went in first. When he came out and you tried going in, Yeosang purposely bumped into the man, rather swiftly turning and apologizing to nobody in general, the man groaning in warning.

Tied back at their usual spots, you looked at him, worry lacing your eyes. "Tell me you did it."

Yeosang stuck out his tongue and you laughed in disbelief- he had done it, the hairpin right in the middle of his tongue, of all the goddamn places. "I can't uncuff myself, or you," Yeosang said, his hands tied behind him, "But you... you can."

"I can," you admitted, "after the effects of the drug wears off."

"And you know I'll get out on my own, but will you... uncuff me too?"

"Well," you sighed, "We may have a problem- I can't exactly fight on my own anymore. I may have a broken something and my back hurts like hell. You're pretty fresh, so if you're up for it..."

"And what do I get out of it?" Yeosang smirked, and you rolled your eyes because this wasn't the time to get playful.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want... interesting."

"Yeosang, we don't have all day, and if you come up with something disgustingly evil I'll personally end you after we get out of here."

"Nothing... for now," Yeosang announced, "But you owe me one after this."

"Done. Now hand it over."

Yeosang smirked as he slid closer to you, the chains on his cuff preventing him from getting too close but it was enough- he stretched until his face was near you, and you brought your face closer too, rolling your eyes at the devilish smirk as he pushed the pin out of his mouth, holding it at the tip from his teeth, and you caught the pin from the other end, your lips slightly brushing with his, a sigh of relief escaping you as you drew back, because the key of freedom was now in your mouth.

Yeosang drew back and watched as you pushed yourself up with excruciating effort, working your mouth expertly and uncuffing yourself in a minute, falling to your knees in a very abrupt motion and almost crying in relief-

But Yeosang's breath stuck in his throat, because your back-

Your back was littered with scars- and the worst thing was that only a few of them were new.

"Who did this to you?"

Yeosang's voice was grim, and you looked up to see his gaze fixed at your back.

"That scumbag, of course-"

"Not those scars," Yeosang shook his head, "The others."

You bit your lips, having completely forgotten about the long scars that decorated your back. "Nothing you need to know."

You wobbled behind Yeosang, uncuffing him and almost falling down, Yeosang holding you up, making you lean at his side and use him for support. He brought the chicken leg in front of you, making you laugh and shake your head as you took it rather gladly, eating it and oh, you haven't had something normal in weeks now.

You didn't notice how Yeosang was absently tucking your hair behind- you were too busy eating. And when he took off his own outer shirt and wrapped it around you, it was only then you noticed his gaze that made you flush because of a number of reasons-

First- the gesture itself. All your lives you had hated each other just for the sake of it, and this... this was making you wonder why you both ever got stuck in that meaningless cycle of hate.

And second- he was extremely buff, his biceps now visible in the black half sleeved shirt he was left with. His streaked hair contrasted rather well with it, and you had to stop your eyes from roaming all around him, praying he hadn't noticed.

"So," Yeosang's deep voice broke you out of your trance, "What's the plan?"

--------------

The two of you pretended to be chained for the remainder of the evening, waiting for the time when the man would come for interrogation- it was a fixed time of the day, you had noted. So anyone who peeked in out of curiosity would find you both chained well, but right before the man arrived, Yeosang stationed himself next to the door, punching the man once and knocking him out instantly.

"Wow," you breathed, "Forgot for a second you were strong."

"Forgot?" Yeosang huffed, "Do you not remember the time I knocked you out with just a-"

"Let's not dwell on the past," You weakly got up, "Chain him like he did me."

Yeosang understood, chaining him just like you had been for the past weeks, taking all his weapons, handing two daggers to you and keeping one and a gun for himself. He finally looked at you, thinking.

"Can you run?"

Which was how you both found yourselves running for your lives, you gathering all your energy to fight close range while Yeosang covered you with the gun, encountering a good five men before Yeosang jumped out of the first floor window to the truck, promising to catch you and urging you to jump instantly.

And he didn't let you down; he caught you rather carefully, as if afraid to hurt you further, grabbing your hand and jumping down, running further down the alley, taking two turns and you stopped him abruptly, pointing at the narrow alley where a couple were making out rather heatedly, and Yeosang understood, dragging you in the alley, grabbing the fur jacket on the bike of the couple and wearing it over himself, turning and embracing you in what would look like a make-out session to anyone passing by-

Except it was his forehead on yours, noses brushing, his hands in your hair, your arms automatically going around his waist for support as he bent you back a bit.

You were suddenly conscious of how you hadn't washed in days- one of the people in that building, a woman, had attended to your scars about three days ago and had washed you as best as she could, saying the boss didn't like his captives dirty when he came during interrogations.

But this should be the last of your concerns right now-

"They're gone?" Yeosang whispered, his breath warm against your skin, the statement coming out more like a question- not what he had intended. But his heart was beating like crazy and it was a surprise his voice hadn't cracked-

"I think so," you whispered back, eyes meeting his-

And that was a mistake.

Because his eyes locked back, and you couldn't pull away from his gaze, having noticed for the first time just how light his eyes were-

"That's my jacket!"

Yeosang rolled his eyes, taking it off and apologizing, saying he was hiding from his friends. Thankfully, the man didn't argue further, and Yeosang grabbed your hand, walking to the next street and getting into a convenience store, your eyes scanning your surroundings for any signs of the enemy.

Yeosang used the phone to contact one of his friends while you waited, wrapping Yeosang's shirt tighter around yourself since it was a bit chilly. Yeosang came back with two bowls of ramen, preparing them and waiting for it to be cooked.

"You've got nowhere to go, do you?"

You pursed your lips, "Boss... he'll kill me once he finds me and gets what he needs."

"Why?"

"Because he'll never believe I kept his secret to myself and did not betray him," your lips quivered, "Because... because I kept the secret to myself after going through everything-"

You didn't know whether it was the relief of escaping alive or the thought of death at your doorstep, or simply the fact that your boss, that bastard would never believe you didn't sell him out- but you were suddenly crying, and you hid your face, turning away from Yeosang as you sobbed, trying to stop but you held it in too long-

Yeosang said your name, which just made you cry harder, telling him between hiccups that you didn't know why you were crying, but he understood. He only rubbed your shoulders as you sniffed, cursing yourself because you were crying in front of Yeosang, of all the people, which could also be the reason why you were crying harder.

"Come with me," Yeosang simply said, turning you to face him, "We'll figure something out. For now, come with me."

"Yeosang," you shook your head, "my boss will go at war with your gang if he knows you guys have me. And he will know, because those men we just escaped from? They're gonna tell him that you, Kang bloody Yeosang, helped me escape. So just drop me off at the port or something- no need to involve yourself-"

"Oh, the ramen's getting soggy," Yeosang, completely ignoring you, handed you chopsticks and blew at his noodles, wowing at how good it tasted, urging you to eat. And you did- because he clearly wasn't ready to have this conversation.

Just as you finished eating, a car stopped in front of the store and Yeosang motioned for you to follow him. Unsure, you did- ironically, he was the only one you could trust right now.

"Why am I even following you when we hate each other," you muttered, and Yeosang scoffed.

"Why am I even inviting you, huh? Get in," he held the door open for you and you sat at the backseat, Yeosang going in the front and when the driver turned to get a look at you-

"You!"

You were going to escape- you weren't sure you would survive the ride to wherever the destination was when the driver was none other than Wooyoung.

"Oh how the tables have turned!" He laughed, Yeosang slapping his arms and looking apologetically at you, as if saying that yes, this was his only option and he's sorry.

"She's been a captive for 3 weeks, can you tone it down a bit?" Yeosang glared at Wooyoung who couldn't stop grinning as he drove.

"Almost didn't recognize you, you poor thing," Wooyoung looked at you from the rear-view mirror and you just stared out of the window, "Did they not feed you there?"

You and Wooyoung were actually on friendlier terms than you and Yeosang had ever been, which came as quite a surprise to everyone who learned that, since Yeosang and Wooyoung went quite a way back and well... Wooyoung was friends with basically everyone. He was someone you warmed up to instantly. And though you weren't his 'friend', you could easily have been because you had never found it difficult to have a simple chat with him whenever they met up for business- or as rivals, in a fight.

"They did not, actually, if you can't tell from my face," you retorted, Wooyoung ooh-ing at your response, noticing that you were very angry right now.

"What do you wanna eat? Come on, I still owe you a meal, don't I? Or was it the other way round?"

It was the other way round, but you weren't going to admit it. "You do. And I would like some coffee and anything with sugar very, very much."

Which was how you ended up in Yeosang's room, wide awake with coffee in your system, digging into the brownies as Yeosang and Wooyoung examined your back, allowing Wooyoung only because apparently he was 'good at this'.

As for Yeosang... he had already seen it.

"I would ask about the old scars, but I feel like it's not my place," Wooyoung bit his lips, meeting Yeosang's gaze and Yeosang nodded, the both of them strangely feeling angered at the sight of her torn back, but you- you were trying to distract yourself.

"Gosh, I could eat the whole box," you muttered as you took a third brownie, and Yeosang shook his head at you, but he was internally pleased to see you eat.

"You'll end up throwing up if you eat too much," Wooyoung warned, "Take the box away, Yeosang."

"No!" You wailed, trying to get up but Yeosang was quicker, the brownies out of reach now. Grumpily, you nibbled at the one in your hand.

"I have to go," Wooyoung read a text from his phone and announced, "Business calls. Yeosang, patch up the wound- you can wash up if you want to first."

"Oh I do," you got up, finishing the brownie, "You better have a good fucking shampoo, Yeosang."

After a very long shower, your back literally burning as you stifled your screams, the shampoo residue stinging the still open wounds, you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, coming out to get your wounds treated.

Yeosang cleared his throat, realizing that you'd be quite naked as he tended to your back. But all thoughts left him when he beheld your now red wounds.

"Maybe you shouldn't have showered..."

"Please, I felt filthy," you muttered, "Just get it over with."

Yeosang applied ointment to your wounds, his hands gentle, then taped bandages, and before he knew, he was running his finger across an old scar-

And you noticed.

"Who did this to you?"

His voice barely came out as a whisper, and you just ignored the question, asking for clothes. Yeosang handed you new clothes which included a soft button up shirt, trousers and even undergarments, and you eyes him suspiciously.

"Got these at the store," Yeosang simply said, and you realized he had planned all this before hand. Thanking him, you ditched the bra- it would only hurt your wounds and you wore the rest. Coming out of the bathroom, you stood awkwardly, and Yeosang motioned at the chair next to him, where he had been sitting and gazing out at the sky.

You turned on the dim lamp and turned off all other lights before you joined him, and he offered you water, which you gladly took.

"My boss... you know he practically raised me, right?"

Yeosang hadn't expected you to chat with him so he was caught off-guard, but he shook his head yes.

"Well... let's just say he didn't quite know how to tame me."

Yeosang was about to speak but then he realized what you were talking about-

The scars.

"You know nothing justifies what he did to you."

"I know," you sighed, "I know."

"And now... the fact that he'll kill you the first chance he gets-" Yeosang let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hands through his hair.

"I still have to go-"

"Don't," Yeosang practically begged, surprising you with the desperation that laced his voice, "Don't go back."

"Yeosang-"

"No," he took your hand, surprising you yet again, your heart picking pace, "You don't need to go back, okay? He will find out that you're here and he'll come after us anyway, even if we let you go... but we got you, okay? I got your back. So trust me, and don't go."

You scanned his face- there was no hint of mischief in his eyes anymore, in fact it was worry that you saw. And you were conflicted- in any other situation, you would have known this was a simple prank- something you both often did; making bold confessions out of nowhere just to rile the other person up, but this...

You looked down at the hand that held yours, caressing it absently. And you knew there was nothing but truth here.

"If you insist," you scoffed, "What's got you all chummy, Kang Yeosang?"

Yeosang laughed shyly- shyly? You hadn't expected this either.

"You know what," Yeosang got up, helping you up and taking you to one of the single beds in the room, "We don't have to fight anymore. Why did we fight anyway? Let's be friends instead."

"Now where would the fun in that be?" You retorted, and Yeosang clapped.

"I was going to make fun of you if you were going to say yes," Yeosang smirked, and you realized some of this was a prank after all. You couldn't figure him out. "Get some sleep. It's gonna be a big day tomorrow."

----------------------

"Bloody hell."

All it took was one look at your face for those words to escape Kim Hongjoong's mouth- the gang leader. And you knew you had to be looking horrible for him to lose his demeanor.

Truth be told, you hadn't taken one look in the mirror ever since you got back, and you weren't eager to as well. But you bit your lip as you looked at Yeosang, and he nodded in confirmation.

Bloody hell indeed.

"Tell me you're feeding her," Hongjoong slumped back, "You're all skin and bones."

"I can imagine," you took your seat in front of Hongjoong, only three of you in his office, "now, shall we?"

"So tell me," Hongjoong leaned forward, elbows on the table, "What do I get out of this?"

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I don't have any idea how valuable this key is," you picked it out from your shoe, waving it in the air, "but I am sure it is too valuable to lose. I'll have to see the contents to be sure."

"And you said it belongs to a safe, which is located..."

"We'll have to raid one of my boss' resorts, it seems."

It was Yeosang's idea- all night he had been thinking while you had slept comfortably for the first time- and you had been out for a good 26 hours, especially with the fever. You were force-fed medicines and you were finally able to walk without falling after two days.

So Yeosang had suggested that she join their gang- or stay on the run forever. You couldn't imagine joining their gang since the 8 of them were so closely knit, and you told him, but he was having none of it. Wooyoung came by, agreeing that it was a good idea- all of them already were familiar with you so it wouldn't be too awkward, plus, according to Wooyoung, 'this place needs a feminine touch'.

You could run away- but you knew the life ahead wouldn't be easy that way. You would always be cautious of every step you took and you'd have to look behind your back everywhere. Your boss wouldn't let you live peacefully, ever.

"Raiding is a specialty of ours," Hongjoong grinned, "And you have the key to access something so valuable to your boss that he couldn't risk getting out his most trustworthy employee."

"Correct," you nodded, "What do I get in return?"

"Welcome to the gang," Hongjoong announced, "You'll work with Yeosang and San- you're all assassins, so it shouldn't be a problem. However, you'll have to be faithful."

"Of course," you set your chin high, "I was faithful to my boss even in captivity, but it looks like he betrayed me. So yes, I can guarantee my loyalty as long as you guarantee yours."

Hongjoong scanned your face, slowly nodding, "I say we got ourselves quite a gem, eh Yeosang?"

Yeosang laughed, "Are we not enough for you Hongjoong?"

You were surprised at how casually Yeosang and Hongjoong could interact- with your boss, it had been all formalities and him practicing his authority on anyone and everyone, but this...

It felt warm, and you couldn't help but smile.

"We need to be quick with this operation," Hongjoong said, "We have planted a false trail indicating you ran away, but your former fellow employees will soon realize it's us you're with. How quick can you be?"

"Tonight," you said, nodding at Yeosang, "Let's do it tonight."

----------------

"Are you sure you can do this?" Yeosang asked for the fifth time, and you stopped in the middle of wearing your gear.

"Yeosang," you sighed, "What's got you so worried about me?"

Yeosang noticed the playfulness in your tone, "A number of things, actually. Apart from the fact that this could still be a trap that you're setting us up for, apart from the fact that you might possibly betray us tonight, I do think your physical health isn't so fit right now."

You jumped in the air, "I feel lighter, which means I'll be quicker."

Yeosang raised his brow, waiting for you to address the other problem in question. You counted your daggers and bullets, finally looking at him.

"I can't prove it with words, so you'll just have to see if I pass the test tonight."

"She does have a point," San said as he handed you a bulletproof vest and night vision glasses, "It's not like she'll tell you if she plans on betraying us."

"See," you smirked, "He knows. You're asking dumb questions, Yeosang."

"Well," Yeosang waited for San to leave before slowly stepping forward, until he was almost touching you, his figure towering over you and he glared at you.

"If any of my friends get hurt tonight because of you," Yeosang's voice was deep, making a shiver run down your spine, "I won't spare you."

"Well," you retorted, glaring back, standing on your tip toes, "If you hand me over to the very person who has tortured me all my life and who I finally have the chance to escape from... I'll never forgive you, Kang Yeosang."

Something flashed in Yeosang's eyes, but he only matched your glare, the two of you thinking, none of you moving.

"The tension between them is so obvious," Wooyoung muttered to San, the two of them giggling, and you just hmph-ed at Yeosang before turning away.

"Are we going or what?"

-------------------

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"I have a good memory, Seonghwa," you tsk-ed at his question, "And when I tell you I saw a glimpse of the address to the resort he most frequently visits, it has to be this- or the one least frequently visited."

"Have you ever seen the safe?" Seonghwa asked, using his binoculars to count the number of men stationed outside, "I have to say, with the number of men stationed outside..."

"My boss is... a dumb man, actually," you admitted, and Seonghwa grinned because you both knew it was true, "He doesn't believe in the art of deception. He's straightforward like that- stationing 40 men outside a single resort? You'd think it was made of gold."

"How has no one robbed him till date?"

"Me," you flipped your hair and Yeosang, who was right next to you, scoffed, "Plus manpower. Simple and efficient."

"Right," Seonghwa slid down from the tree, motioning for everyone to gather for the plan.

"Alright, we have to get her inside since she won't just hand over the key to us," Seonghwa gave you a side-eye and you stuck your tongue out, "Our first priority is getting Yeosang and her inside, and we'll prevent any of those men entering the house."

"I'll distract them," Wooyoung said, winking once before acting like a drunken person, a bottle in his hand as he sang a song about illusions, slowly trailing to the path that led to the gate. Meanwhile, San went at the back, acting the same and you and Yeosang waited for the cue while Yunho and Seonghwa went to clear the path.

And a few moments later, when fire lit the sky, you and Yeosang jumped over the wall, swiftly running to the nearest window and getting down.

"I know where the alarms are, but there's no guarantee if boss replaced some after I got caught," you whispered, motioning for him to follow you, "The safe is actually in the basement, or so the rumours say."

"Let's get inside," Yeosang said, breaking the window with a rock and clearing the glass with his sleeve, entering first and making sure it was clear before allowing you to enter, and as soon as you did-

You jumped on Yeosang, landing on the floor, the bullet narrowly escaping his head, and in a quick motion your dagger went flying for the attacker's heart, rendering him immobile. Yeosang was breathless for a few moments before getting up.

"Watch your back," you said, taking the dagger out and sliding it back, letting the man bleed to death- you didn't look at his face, because you knew you'd recognize him- or anyone who dies tonight, as a matter of fact.

"Thanks," Yeosang breathed, and you led the way to the stairs, noticing two men stationed at the door of the single room in the basement.

"Now that's an upgrade too," you muttered, turning to look at Yeosang who was so close to you as he peeked over you that your face bumped on his shoulder, "Back off a bit, give me space to breathe."

Yeosang purposely got closer, almost making you lose your step and fall in front of the guards, and you slapped his arm as he stifled a giggle, "This is no time to play!"

"Oh? What time do we play then, pray tell?"

Ignoring him, you loaded your gun with tranquilizers, Yeosang doing the same, aiming to take the guards one on one since they had the element of surprise. Knocking them out in seconds and unarming them, you tried opening the door that was locked.

"Okay, hear me out," you said, raising your hands in surrender, "I have no idea what's inside. This could be a trap, we could find too much inside, I don't know what happens, okay?"

"Okay," Yeosang practically dismissed your statement, bending over to unlock the door with pins, and you sighed.

"I'm serious," you warned, "I'm not responsible for whatever happens."

Having unlocked the door, Yeosang sighed, putting his hands on your shoulders as he scanned your surprised face.

"I... I know. I know you can be trusted, just don't let me down on your part, will you?"

The dim lights were making Yeosang's facial structure seem like art- truly a sculpture. You gulped, nodding, and didn't miss the smirk as he took his hands off, nodding at you once and opening the door.

It was a simple room set like an office, but-

Another room.

"I'm betting 10 that there's an assassin who's not me or you in this room-"

Yeosang almost knocked the breath out of you as he whirled you at the side, meeting the said assassin's dagger with his own, the two engaging in close combat and it took you a few seconds to grasp the situation, taking a dagger in each hand and waiting for an opening-

But the two were blindingly quick and a grunt of pain escaped Yeosang as the dagger sliced his arm, and at the very moment when Yeosang's defense dropped and the assassin let loose-

You sent the dagger flying for the nape of his neck, grinning when it hit home.

"Go easy with the killings, will you?" Yeosang shook his head, examining his arm, "Who pissed you off tonight?"

"I can't believe my boss stationed a person here who is not me when I'm the one he's supposed to have been trusting the most."

Yeosang stared at you- your training had taught you to kill brutally and that was a fact known to everyone, and he realized you were your boss' right hand for a reason.

You were practically invincible, and oh, he never realized how hot you looked in your assassin gear.

"You done gawking?" You said, bending down to unlock the door you hoped was the last door tonight, and Yeosang shook his head as he grinned.

"The old you is back, it seems," he said, referring to your tone.

"That's still me, don't expect me to be all chummy with you-"

"Easy with this pin," Yeosang's hand slid over yours, guiding it to twist the pin in the door and you didn't hear the door unlock because all you could hear was Yeosang's breath near your ears.

He was getting to you, and both of you knew it.

As if on purpose, he slid his hand across your arm before withdrawing it away, opening the door before you could question his actions-

"That is one big ass safe."

You breathed- Yeosang was right. It was one big ass safe alright. You took out the key that you had safely taped to your bra, Yeosang watching with his mouth agape, and you both held your breath unconsciously when you put in the key, marveling at how it fit right in and turned it.

You opened the door to reveal a shitload of papers- documents, probably property documents and whatnot, but in the middle of it was another password protected safe.

"Should we just, I don't know, carry it with us?"

"Boss isn't that dumb," you let out a short laugh at Yeosang's question, motioning at the wire behind the locker, indicating it was either going to combust or activate an alarm if anything went wrong.

"Now what?" Yeosang said.

"First of all, now you know I can be trusted."

Yeosang scanned you. "For all I know, there's gonna be a 'got you' card inside."

You rolled your eyes, burning holes as you glared at the locker- as if your eyes could unlock them. "Now what could the password be?"

"Try 0000."

"Yeosang," you sighed, running a frustrated hand through your hair, "It must be a date- an important date to him."

Yeosang's phone vibrated, and he picked it up, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he listened.

"They're largely outnumbered now," Yeosang said, "We have two minutes max. Think."

"I can't think right now," you groaned, clenching your hair, "There must be a number of possibilities. I can't go back without checking the locker, Yeosang, without taking what he has, he'll come and get me-"

"Hey, hey," Yeosang called your name, grabbing you by the arms and making you sit on a chair he dragged, rubbing your shoulders in comfort.

"You are a genius, you know that, right? You know you got a brain that works, right?"

You nodded, "Not working."

Yeosang shook his head at your words, watching your leg fidget and your hands tremble as time ran out, and you had to stand up because this was too much-

"Look at me," Yeosang said, and you turned, not expecting what happened next, which was Yeosang's hands cupping your face, tucking your hair aside gently, basically just...

Comfort touch. That's what it was.

"Relax," he whispered, "You'll be safe whether we get this or not. I won't let anything happen to you, you hear me?"

You couldn't really hear him, in fact, because your heart was pounding loudly because of the pressure and the situation you were in right now. Yeosang brought you closer, wrapping his arms around you, his hand caressing your head.

"Take a deep breath, with me, come on," he instructed, and you followed, your breaths syncing, "You've done so well. You've held on for so long, any one would have given in by now. But not you. You know why?"

Yeosang drew back, caressing your face.

"Because you're strong. You're the strongest person I know, you hear me?"

You knew it wasn't the time to cry, but you couldn't stop the tears that pricked your eyes, and Yeosang only smiled as he wiped your eyes, planting a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"You have 3 tries. We can try, or we can turn back. It's your choice."

"We have to try," you said, and Yeosang nodded.

"Do your best. I got you."

You were glad for the words and were convinced there was some magic to all this because suddenly your head was clear, and you stepped inside the safe, entering your boss' birthday-

The beep that sounded was awful.

"It's okay, go on," Yeosang rubbed your back gently, and you nodded, entering the date he became the leader of this gang-

Wrong.

"I don't know," you cried, but Yeosang only hugged you again, assuring you it didn't matter, and though you told him it could be dangerous, he only said they'd had enough time to take cover in case that happened.

You wracked your brain- what was so important to him that he'd use it as a password?

It felt like you were downed in ice as realization dawned upon you-

He had handed you the key.

He had always told people that you were his most important asset.

It had to be the date he met you for the first time.

You went down memory lane as you recalled the events of that time 15 years ago- when you had just been a child, freshly orphaned and left with what people presumed was your father's insurmountable wealth all passed down to you (but had been passed to charity, from what you knew)- but because your father had enemies, you had been running for your life until your boss- your father's friend- had found you and taken you in.

You were suddenly dreading what the locker held in.

Your fingers felt numb as you pressed the date and waited for that awful beep to sound- but the only sound you heard was Yeosang's gasp as the locker clicked open.

"You did it," Yeosang breathed, clapping.

"I did it," you laughed, looking at Yeosang, "I did it."

"Take whatever you want," Yeosang said, "No time to look, fill our bags and let's get away."

You nodded, Yeosang opening the bags and you filling it with the cash, the gold bars and some documents- you made sure the locker was as empty as new before you shut it, shutting the safe too and taking the key with you, Yunho joining you as soon as you exited the building, and you stopped for a second, burying the key beneath a random plant only you would remember.

You saw all the men knocked out on the way and you had to praise Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Yunho and San for so efficiently having done the job, only minor cuts and bruises as the damage. You didn't dare open the bags until you were back in the room with Yeosang, the rest giving you the space you needed because it was your right to see it first.

And yours alone- however Yeosang had tagged along casually, and you didn't mind.

"I can't believe this," you groaned, "In my enemy's room, with my boss' wealth at my feet."

"That sounds... interesting," Yeosang smirked, and you rolled your eyes, "I like it better when we're not at each other's throats."

"I don't," you said casually, but it looked like Yeosang had other plans as he slid behind you, drawing your hair at one side and whispering in your ear-

"How about being at each other's throats... like this?"

You had to squeeze your eyes shut at the feel of his breath on your skin as he breathed in, his nose tingling your neck-

"Yeosang-"

"Shh," he whispered, his arms wrapping around your waist, "I want you so bad."

You couldn't tell if this was him getting at you like he used to- back when things were normal. He'd do things like this to rile you up, and though you both would never admit it, it turned you both on in inexplainable ways. However, you were always confused as to what he wanted-

You turned around, grabbing Yeosang's hands before he could try anything, "Can you stop being a dick for two minutes?"

"You think I don't want you?" Yeosang raised his brow as he pulled you dangerously close, "You think I'm lying?"

"I wouldn't believe you, Kang Yeosang," you glared at him, "All you do is lie anyway."

"I've never lied about how I felt about you."

"And that's a lie too."

Yeosang groaned in frustration, "Why do you think I never made a move on you?"

You pursed your lips- was he actually serious about this?

"All this... flirting we did, as 'enemies'- and what a title for us when all I wanted was you this close to me," Yeosang sighed, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing, "I didn't want to get you in trouble with your boss- I knew he was an animal. I care about you, even though it might not seem like it. And now that I know what an absolute monster he's been to you..."

You watched Yeosang's brows furrow in a pained expression as he brought his hand to your face.

"I'm never going to let you go back."

You sighed, leaning into his touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed as he brought his face closer until your lips brushed-

And then he drew back.

"You might want to make sure nothing in there would change your mind," Yeosang's voice was hoarse, "I don't... I'm not doing this if you are going to go away."

Your knees were already weak and truth be told, you knew nothing in there would change your mind- you were never going back, not to him. You sighed, resting your head against Yeosang's chest as you calmed your breathing, not looking at him as you made your way to the bag which contained the documents.

You examined them one by one, Yeosang counting the cash and the gold in the meanwhile, and by the time you were done, you were crying rather hysterically.

"What's the matter?" Yeosang rubbed your back but you just slumped further down in the bed as you muffled your cries, muffled your screams. Yeosang held you as you cried, and between your sobs you managed to say some words-

Lies. Betrayal.

Your boss... he had never been that dumb, alright. He'd given 10 year old you the proof you needed- fake documents that said your father's wealth had been passed down to charity except a small amount for you, which wasn't enough in any way. However, the documents in your hands now said otherwise-

Your father, one of the wealthiest businessman of his time, had left all his wealth to his sole heir- you. He'd left nothing to his friend- your boss. Everything inside the locker, all the contents belonged to you alone- all legal money so you wouldn't get in trouble for it.

You cried for the life you could have had, for the pain of the scars you had on your back.

And Yeosang was fuming as he heard that, promising to teach your boss a lesson- and his tone said he was serious.

Sipping from the cup of coffee that Yeosang got for you, you finally calmed down, looking at the cash and the gold spread around you in sets.

"All of this... it's only yours."

"What am I gonna do, with all of this?"

"Anything you want," Yeosang's smile was genuine.

"Tell me one thing, Yeosang," you set your cup down, "Why do you like me?"

Yeosang sighed, smiling, "You got me good since the day we met. I did hate you at first, just like you must have hated me, but... somehow, I started looking forward to our interactions."

You smiled, shaking your head, making him laugh out loud- the laugh that had always been music to your ears.

"What am I going to do with you, Kang Yeosang?"

Yeosang couldn't take it anymore- he climbed on the bed, crawling forward until his lips met yours, and the sigh that escaped you said enough.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck as he pushed you back, getting on top of you and kissing you, the kisses picking pace with every passing second, and he had to break apart when you groaned into the kiss.

"I wish I did this earlier," he couldn't breathe.

"Never too late," you smirked, and he brought his mouth back on yours, moving in unison, and you marveled at how they fit as if made for each other. One of his hands guided your face, holding at your neck, his thumb caressing your face while the other roamed around your waist, teasingly slow.

Yeosang broke the kiss, catching his breath as he took his time to memorize your face, his eyes roaming slowly around, taking in the curves and angles.

He caught you by surprise when he started peppering soft kisses all over your face- on your forehead, cheeks, nose, until you were a blushing mess and you couldn't take it anymore.

"You owe me one, remember?"

It took you a good moment to realize what he was talking about: when he had freed you from captivity.

You did owe him one.

You scanned his face, biting your lip. What was he thinking?

Before you could ask, he was kissing your jaw, travelling down your neck, satisfied grunts escaping both of you and you almost forgot what he had just said until he mumbled-

"I want you. So. Bad."

Your stomach sank dangerously at his words, and you just responded by fisting his shirt and connecting your mouths again, and Yeosang started unbuttoning your shirt and broke apart only to take off his own, going to attack your neck, wringing out moans from you as he teased your bare skin, his hands going lower and lower, stopping again as he scanned your eyes for any sign of discomfort, smiling when he found them dazed instead.

"You owe me one." He caressed your face so gently, as if it held something fragile, "Don't leave. Stay here, with me. That's what I want."

"I was going to tell you to keep it for later because I was going to stay anyway," you smirked, "too bad you've lost your opportunity-"

"I take it back," Yeosang laughed, kissing your forehead, "How come you've decided to stay?"

You took a deep breath, thinking how to word it and Yeosang lay down with you, "I've always admired how close knit the 8 of you are, and work like friends, without hierarchies, without pulling ranks. And the way you're willing to accept me, no questions asked... I'm overwhelmed, to be honest."

Yeosang smiled, tracing shapes on your waist, making you tickle slightly, "We're practically friends, the guys adored you anyway."

"You hated me!"

"Never," Yeosang shook his head, "I just needed a reason to talk to you and rile you up. You know how I love it when you frown at me or glare at me-"

You slapped Yeosang's hand, making him laugh out loud, "I hate you."

"Do you, now?"

"Anyways," you gulped, ignoring the devilish smirk on his face, "You have to let me do one thing."

Though Yeosang strongly rejected your idea, you only pushed forward, seeing it as a sort of investment, promising it wasn't a gift and you were getting something out of it too- though everyone thought it was too much to accept, especially Hongjoong. But you told them you weren't going to take the money to your grave-

And you had to take your property back from your boss.

The very lavish house he lived in that belonged to you- you had to take it back. He wasn't allowed to dwell there anymore. You were going to whip him like he did to you all those years, and if you felt merciful enough, you would give him the gift of death. And then you'd get your boys out of the old mansion they currently lived in, and make your house the new residence.

You didn't let yourself be distracted by anyone- especially Yeosang- as you planned the downfall of your previous gang, and when you stood outside your home, the 8 of them by your side, you kissed Yeosang and made him promise he wouldn't interfere and wouldn't risk his life, making everyone promise the same.

"Once night time comes," Yeosang growled in your ear, "I am gonna make you mine."

You practically melted right there- you wanted to tell him that he already owned you. But you only sighed, nodding.

He had you alright.

And he only proved it when it was the middle of the night, your bodies still sore from all the fighting, your minds relieved because you were now in your home, safe, and your boss was... well, dead, not before you made him sign a document that made you the sole heir to all his property and wealth as well. The men and women, his employees, either died fighting or surrendered- most of them had known you and hated their boss like you did.

It had been laughably easy.

And you could have said you were prepared for how the events turned out, but nothing could have prepared you for when you and Yeosang finally went in your room and he shut the door, practically slamming you against the wall as he kissed the living soul out of you.

And you knew it was gonna be a long, long night, especially with the both of you fighting for dominance, none of you giving in, clothes off in a hurried motion, slamming on basically every wall and furniture, marking each other's skin and making each other moan so loud you were positive everyone heard it.

And as you lay in bed, in Yeosang's embrace, you felt safe, for the first time in your life.

"I think I like us better when we're at each other's throats after all," you grinned, making Yeosang open one eye to see what you actually meant. And his smile told you he wasn't disappointed.

"I like us better like that too," Yeosang said, making you squeal as he attacked your neck with kisses and bites again.

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that-jax

4 years ago

Dance To This Masterlist (Blind! Au) (Service hybrid Au)

(dog-Hybrid! Seokjin x wolf-Hybrid! Namjoon x Blind! Reader)(ft. Cat! Yoongi)

Summary: Seokjin didn’t expect his new potential owner to be blind, but with the threat of being sent to a breeding clinic looming over his head, he’ll do anything.

Tags: Eventual polyamory, Blindness, Service hybrid au, non-explicit sex, non-physical intimacy, Domestic love, social media au, cuddling, hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety and depression, allusions to past self-harm, referenced hybrid mistreatment, hybrid abandonment,

———————————-

PART 1: “I got you,”

PART 2: “I won’t tell him about your crush, don’t worry.”

PART 3: “You can always come back,”

———————————-

Sequel: Call Me Yours (BTS x Reader)

Dance To This Masterlist (Blind! Au) (Service Hybrid Au)

Summary: You were happy with your life, with your loving relationship with your hybrids- Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. But you never would have imagined that more love was hidden right next door, just over your garden fence. Not that human Hoseok will ever get the courage to confess his feeling for you anyway. His hybrids, however- starry-eyed bunny Jungkook, Bratty calico cat Jimin, and shy tiger Taehyung- don’t have any problem at all.

Pairings: (Human! Hoseok) x (Human! reader) x (Wolf hybrid! Namjoon) x (Dog hybrid! Seokjin) x (Cat hybrid! Yoongi) x (Tiger hybrid! Taehyung) x (Bunny hybrid! Jungkook) x (Cat hybrid! Jimin)

Tags: Established relationship, Polyamory, gratuitous fluff, slow-ish burn

———————————-

Part 1: BIRDS

Part 2: CHARMING

Part 3: AUDIO

Part 4: PROMISE

Part 5: THE DATE

Part 6: BURN

Part 7: LOVE BITES

Part 8: DIVIDED

Part 9: STITCHES

epilogue: TIMELESS