#a fucking repeat of the first 3 months of the year all over!!!

[awsugar]

And I forgot about the DRUMS!!! I think this is an album they may have been working on for years. I think they are going for a magnum opus

yea so i read this went you sent it at 6am cause ive been out of work sick for a few days now and my sleep is allll messed up. and i tinhatted EXTREMELY close to the sun on this one. but i kind of think im cooking. so let me explain.

also ill just say i think because we know somethings coming but we dont know what BUT we know there are threads throughout somehow connecting things from years prior like. all tinhatting is plausible until proven otherwise. if we want to draw a connection between two things we CAN. and i think thats why im so on board with mcr5 now when i havent been since 2019. bc ive done this before. i was in the trenches for the danger days rollout/promo and the transmissions on the website and everything and THAT was one of the most exciting times of my life and THIS reminds me of that. im glad people never gave up on mcr5 but they never gave me ENOUGH before now to really run with. and now they have and its a free for all. THIS is what being an mcr fan is about. tbh. this is what this fandom has been missing for AGES. when they dont give us teasers and lore and crpytic messages we devolve into like theorizing and arguing with each other about who they are as people. but this is the basis of mcr community to me....getting together with your pals inside your phone and inside your laptop (who now have grown ito irl friends for so many of us) and dissecting every shred of info they give us. thank god for my chemical romance.

ANYWAY sorry that. went down a path i didnt intend when i started. so yes um so what you said about them going for a magnum opus. let me tell you a little story. when i was in my first year of being a my chem fan, i was 13, i became QUICKLY obsessed, first with the black parade and then after i spent i think 2 months straight listening to nothing but the black parade on repeat all day every day (literally) i ventured into their other stuff and got like really sucked in to everything else, reading articles and interviews and watching every video of them youtube had to offer and talking about them 24/7 on the forums instead of doing homework, i would sneak the family laptop into my room at night so i could keep reading about them and talking about them instead of having to go to sleep it was THE most exhilarating and exciting time of my life. anyway. i remember (16 years later) reading a specific review of the black parade that said something like "my chemical romance will never top this album and they know it" and i STILL REMEMBER sitting on the couch and crying over it. because i had never listened to music that had made such an impact on me as the black parade IN MY LIFE. nothing had ever made me feel that way and that strongly as listening to that album. you know how we all always say we wish we could listen to my chem for the first time again just to have that feeling again. that was me. i had never experienced an album of their when it came out and i felt like the author of the article was telling me that i would basically never acheive that high again. it was devastating. i promise this is relevant. bc regardless of your PERSONAL FAVORITE my chem album, it is generally agreed upon that the black parade is their magnum opus. it just is. both in scale and musically and its impact on pop culture and its the best known to a general audience.

so you say they're going for a magnum opus. when the black parade is DEAD. they killed it. (in the new lore they were sent to the MOAT which i assume is some kind of exile and stripping of their status as the national band)

and so i started thinking about "in the face of extermination say FUCK YOU" and i think this applies here two-fold actually. MAYBE 3-fold. on one hand, in-universe. extermination being the concrete age, the dictator holding the people down and exterminating their livelihood. but also the extermination of the black parade! and then - irl - we have the extermination of mcr's chances of doing something huge again like this. music publications resigning them as soon as the album came out to never achieving something as epic and grand as that again.

and the FUCK YOU being, the opposition of the dictator from the people, the black parade being reinstated but? maybe they have plans to overthrow the dictator? IRL mcr saying fuck you, we can actually use the concept that you said was the best we would ever do, completely turn it on its head, and make something even more grandiose and epic and MAGNUM OPUS.

and also hail just reminded me obv of the UNKILLABLES drumhead in sydney. which both relates to franks personal experience there but also like. with this concept of in the face of extermination say fuck you. along with his end of tour post being a cockroach, notoriously unkillable! notoriously a target for extermination!!!!

god theres so many layers to this but i needed to get it off my chest do you still like me

[elllisaaa]

TEACHER'S PET - J. YUNHO

SUMMARY : being a fan of Jane Austen's novels, you should have guessed that your attraction for complicated love stories would put you in trouble at some point. but you wouldn't have imagined that the trouble in question would be named Jeong Yunho - your favourite professor.

-> pairing : literature professor!yunho x student fem!reader

-> words count : 30.4 k

-> genre : college au, smut & angst

-> warnings (w. some spoilers of the plot) : soft!dom!yunho x sub!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praising, marking, hair pulling, doggy, protected and unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, fingering, begging, riding, semi-public sex, yunho has a big cock, hand kink, facefucking, drunk sex, yunho is calling reader angel (yes, that's a warning), age gap (8 years), mention of fwb relationship w. san, cheating, mentions of family issues, self-depreciation

+ the way i'm depicting yunho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : should i say sorry for the enormous word count ? maybe. will i apologize ? not at all because i'm so fucking proud of this fic. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written, i quite fell in love with reader this time lmaoo. i started the process of the plot back in january, and it took me more than 3 months to write this but it's amazing in my opinion, so i hope you'll like it as much as i loved writting it ! also that is such a detail but yes, prices are in euros in this fic because i'm french and i cannot physically write dollars and not feel weird, i'm sorry, bear with it. i should also say sorry for the angst but it don't wanna either, i already cried to myself when i put it into words, it's your turn to suffer.

-> playlist : older by isabel larosa - white mustang by lana del ray - crazy in love by sofia carlberg - middle of the night by elley duhé - reflections by the neighborhood - daddy issues by the neighborhood - babydoll by ari abdul - easier by bernard park - i love you by billie eilish

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

Jeong Yunho had been the big sensation and the object of all conversations since he started teaching at your university. It was during your freshman year that he joined your college as the new professor of British literature. And honestly, just knowing that you wouldn’t be forced to listen to an old man repeating the same story about how he almost won the Pulitzer Prize twenty years ago over and over was already a relief. But the fact that your new teacher was also very attractive did get you even more interested in his classes. 

Of course, at first, you were like all the other girls on campus, gushing over how handsome Mr. Jeong was, and how well the suits he always wore were perfectly fitting his tall frame. But you quickly discovered a dedicated and very good professor. He helped your whole promotion to go over all the things your old teacher should have presented to you, and thanks to him, you passed your exams. So even if you couldn’t ignore that he was very, very hot, you were mostly glad to have a professor as passionate as you about literature - his handsomeness was only the cherry on top. 

Every time you had a class with him, you knew that this was about to be a good day, because they were always stimulating and never boring. And maybe, just maybe it was because you were always trying to contradict him. In your defense, Mr. Jeong always led you to approach a new subject with an interesting or controversial point of view, and you were often disagreeing, or had things to say about it. And since not many people in your class were really interested in British literature and were only here to admire your teacher for one or two hours, it was not rare for him and you to end up debating about anything and everything. And today was no exception.

“- What do you want me to say Y/N ? This is how things are, I can’t change them.

- Then you’ll have to convince me, Mr. Jeong.”

Your professor chuckled while shaking his head. You were always like this, always trying to get him to surrender and admit that you had the right answer. Yunho didn’t really understand if it was because you liked to be right or simply because you loved a little bit of challenge, but either way, he appreciated how attentive you were to his classes, and how you were trying to question everything every single time. It was stimulating for the class, for you, and even for him. 

“- In this precise case, it is not my job to do that. The fact that you have your opinion on the subject is a very good thing, but there is no right or wrong answer. What we are trying to do here is simply to interpret what message Poe wanted to convey, we can never be sure if our interpretation is the one he had in mind. And I would love to continue this debate but it’s time for you to go, so don’t forget to read the extract of Wuthering Heights I gave you and I’ll see you next week.” 

You rapidly packed up your things to run back to your dorms. Friday often meant a girl’s night out with your two best friends, and you wanted to have enough time to get ready. You three always got to the same bar where you met each other, one of the first nights you went out during your first year of college. You crossed paths with Lola first, the barmaid having messed up both of your cocktail orders. And both of you clicked instantly, despite her being two years older than you. At one point, while you were dancing together, you noticed a girl alone being clearly annoyed by a guy who repeatedly tried to touch her. So your new friend and you acted like you knew her and forced the guy to go away. It turned out that the girl you had kind of saved, Dia, was in the same major as you. You ended up spending the night all together and you kept in touch after that.

And despite Lola having finished her studies before Dia and you, she stayed around the city because of her work. So once in a while, you took the opportunity to go out at the bar where you met. And tonight was one of those nights, and after the exhausting week you had, you kinda needed it anyway. Your roommate, Dajeong, helped choose your outfit and you got ready together because she was also going out with some of her friends, chatting about your days and the new rumours about the basketball team. And of course, you had to dress up a little, putting on a skimpy, little black dress that did wonders to underline the curves of your body. During these concert nights you were going to, there were always a lot of pretty attractive men playing instruments, and that kinda got you going. So you didn’t put away the thought of finishing the night in someone else’s bed. 

Dia picked you up to go to the bar where you joined Lola and immediately ordered your favourite drink. It felt good to finally rest after the awful week you had. It all started on Monday, when you slept in and missed your first class of the morning. And because you had to rush to the second, you forgot your lunch at home and the charger of your laptop. On Thursday, you forgot about the work session you had with some of your classmates for a group project and arrived late. And finally one of your professors claimed to be disappointed in you because you handed him your assignment one hour late because you had an unplanned class at the due date. So yeah, you really needed this drink with your friends. 

“- So I didn’t warn you beforehand, but I’m gonna sing on stage tonight !”

You looked at Lola, dumfounded, while Dia squealed excitedly beside you. Your older friend had tried to make her music known for the past year and it was finally starting to work out for her. Lola was incredibly talented, so you were certain that she would succeed and you were also very very happy for her, a big smile stretching your lips as you gave her a hug.

“- Girl ! That’s incredible ! I’m so proud of you, you deserve it !”

Dia joined your hug, the three of you giggling.

“-  I’m so fucking exited, we were waiting for it !”

It was still a little early, but the bar was already filled with people, and even if it was still pretty cold outside, you were immediately hit by a wave of heat as soon as you stepped in. You really loved the atmosphere of these kinds of nights, where everyone was friendly because they were only there to spend a good time. Lola had to go backstage to get ready, but you quickly stumbled on some of Dia’s friends with whom you talked for a while and since the vibes matched, you decided to stay together to enjoy the concert. One guy had particularly tried to get your attention, and you weren’t mad about it with how good he looked. He was very tall, and could seem intimidating but whenever he smiled or laughed, you could see how kind and sweet he was. While he was saying something to one of his friends, you quickly tapped on Dia’s shoulder.

“- Hey, what’s the name of your friend that’s very tall ?”

She answered you with a smirk, and mischievous glint in his eyes when she leaned towards you.

“- Why ? Does he interest you ?

- Maybe. So ?

- His name’s Mingi. Have fun girl.”

You slapped her arm lightly, rolling your eyes at her comment. But truly, you didn’t mind the playful bantering between the two of you, loving it even. You let her go back to her conversation while you offered yourself and Mingi another drink since you had finished your beer long ago. It happened that Mingi was just as interesting as you thought he would be, and you even spent the first few performances of the night simply talking with him, too immersed in the discussion to acknowledge your surroundings. It’s only when Lola got up on stage that you started to pay attention, cheering for her after she introduced herself to the public. 

And honestly, she nailed it, hyping the crowd like she did that for her whole life. Dia and you surely clapped and screamed for her the loudest. Lola came to you as soon as she got off the stage, hugging both of you and thanking you for coming to see her and cheering for her. She looked the happiest when she was singing, and you couldn’t be more proud of her as all of Dia’s friends were congratulating and praising her. And from this point on, you didn’t have many clear memories, only knowing that you got drink after drink, getting more comfortable with each one. 

Usually, you wouldn’t be all over someone you had just met, but Mingi was really a good guy, he was attractive and you were drunk, so you didn’t mind the way he was kissing you shamelessly, only kissing him back and letting him roam his hands all over your body. But as always when you were tipsy, your mind was jumping from one thing to another. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see neither Lola nor Dia around anymore, all you wanted was another drink right now.

“- I’m gonna get one more beer, want one ?”

Mingi tried to stop you when you got up, stumbling a little while standing on your feet, the world spinning all around you.

“- Don’t you think you already drank enough Y/N ?

- You’re cute worrying about me ! I’m okay ! I’ll be back in a minute !”

You were practically screaming, and even with the loud music and voices of people around you, you were very loud, making your way over to the bar while chuckling to yourself the whole time. You dropped onto one of the stools in front of the bar, ordering yourself another beer. It’s only when you turned your head on your right side that you noticed someone you knew quite well. 

“- Mr. Jeong !”

The said Mr. Jeong was straddled by your loud voice and even more by your body colliding with his as you kind of dropped your weight on him, circling him with your arms as if you were trying to hug him. For a few seconds, your teacher remained frozen in place, not knowing how to react, before his brain seemed to reactivate again, and pushed you off of him, holding you by your shoulders. Only a quick look at your flushed cheeks, lazy smile and glossy eyes was enough for him to guess that you were drunk. 

“- Y/N ? 

- That’s me ! What are you doing here though ? Teachers are not supposed to go out !”

Yunho couldn’t help but laugh quietly at your behaviour. You were always so neat and put together during his classes, always so focused and organised. So to see you let loose like this, wearing a skimpy little dress, obviously very drunk and your speech so slurred it was actually hard to understand you, was really a shock. 

“- You’ll be surprised to know that I have a life outside of being your teacher.”

Yunho knew that he shouldn’t find the pout on your lips cute, but he did. 

“- ‘m not surprised, you too hot to be a teacher.”

He blamed the alcohol for the way his heart started beating faster at your comment, and even more when you leaned against him once again, breathing in his scent. 

“- ‘m so tired… 

- Where are your friends ? Maybe they can get you home.

- Don’t know…”

You were starting to feel really dizzy. And not the kind of daze when you’re just feeling the agreable effects of all the drinks you had, it was the kind of daze when you’re starting to feel bad, when your head starts to hurt and all you want is your bed and silence. Yunho tried to observe the crowd and spot the friends he usually saw you hanging with around campus, but no one was in sight. So he stood up, paying for his last drink, before helping you walk towards the exit. 

“- Where we going ?

- I’m driving you home. You’re clearly drunk and you lost your friends, it’s not safe for you to stay here alone.” 

You were too far gone to be embarrassed about your behaviour, or to resist too much, so you let your professor drag you to his car and help you get inside, even buckling up your seat belt for you. You only find it in yourself to give him your address, and text Dia to warn her that you were getting home before dozing off. Yunho had to wake you up when he parked in front of your dorm. 

“- We’re here, Y/N.”

You whined, claiming you were comfortable and didn’t want to move, that it was cold outside and the heat in his car was far much better. Yunho sighed while getting out of the car. Helping one of his drunk students get home was not really on his bingo card of the week, but he couldn’t risk you getting in a dangerous situation. He opened the car door on your side after having taken off his jacket, handing it to you as he helped you get out of the vehicle. No words were exchanged as you put on the black leather jacket that was obviously ten times too big for you, drowning your silhouette inside of it. But you could feel the warmth that Yunho’s body had left, and it made the cold of the wind outside less chilly. 

“- You will be alright to get inside alone ?”

You nobbed your head, the nap you took during the way back to your dorm having sobered you up a little. Now, all you wanted was to wrap yourself in your sheets because you were starting to feel the second-hand embarrassment of this whole situation. 

“- Thank you Mr. Jeong.

- You’re welcome Y/N, drink water and take a lot of rest, okay ?”

You nobbed once again, feeling your cheeks heating up when he pressed your shoulder lightly. You didn’t find anything to answer so you decided to simply get inside, not seeing how Yunho kept an eye on you until he was sure you got inside, and only did he drive off. When you pushed the door open, Dajeong was not back from her party yet, so you were met with a silence that instantly eased your headache. You rummaged through the drawers of the kitchen to find some painkillers and a glass of water, gulping the medication down before heading straight to your room. You hadn’t the energy to take off your makeup, nor your outfit, slipping in bed with Yunho’s jacket still on. But it smelled good, it was so warm, like a little cocoon you loved to be wrapped into. And maybe that was why you dreamed of him that night.

The days after this hell of a night, you were hit with the most terrible feeling of embarrassment and guilt you’ve ever felt. Embarrassment because it was definitely what you should feel after having to be driven home by one of your teachers because you were too drunk, and at that, a very attractive and smart teacher - and also your favourite one. Also to be seen in a state like this by him had you mortified. You always tried to remain serious and professional in front of Mr. Jeong, and you never wanted your personal life to interfere like that with your studies. Guilt because he was certainly there to enjoy his own night out and you wrecked that by forcing him to look after you like a little child. You even threw a tantrum because it was too cold, and every time you saw the jacket you even had the audacity to sleep into, you felt even more bad and ashamed of yourself. You didn’t even dare tell Dia and Lola who helped you get home, claiming it was only a guy you knew. 

You also didn’t want rumors to spread. They were fast to go around students, and if you handed Mr. Jeong his jacket back after his class, it would have been enough for people to believe that you two were in a relationship. So you decided to go and see him after his classes in his office, to be sure that you wouldn’t be bothered. You had buried his jacket at the bottom of your bag, as if everyone had X-Ray vision and could see what was inside, walking as fast as you could through the hallways. You had done nothing wrong, but it still felt like it and you had to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation that was going to happen. 

The door was open when you arrived at his office, but you still knocked on it lightly to signal your presence. Mr. Jeong immediately looked up from the assignments he was grading, smiling when he saw it was only you.

“- Come on in Y/N, and close the door behind you.”

You were fairly unable to utter a word, sticking to nodding your head as you did what he told you. Usually, when you came to his office, you would immediately sit down, but you didn’t feel at ease at all today, too shameful to even look at Mr. Jeong in the eyes. 

“- Do you feel better than this weekend ? You didn’t seem very well yesterday either.”

The fact that he was still worrying about you was making you feel even more uncomfortable. 

“- Uh, yes, thank you. Actually I came by to apologise for my behaviour. I was very drunk, and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Thank you so much for driving me home, and again, I’m sorry for how I acted and if I said anything disrespectful to you. And here’s your jacket, I washed it for you. And again, I’m so, so sorry.”

You got the jacket out of your bag, putting it on his desk, neatly folded. Your heart was beating unsteady and your breathing was loud. You couldn’t even remember if you actually said anything weird to him, but knowing you and how you had no filter when you were wasted, you surely did. Mr. Jeong stood up to get his jacket back, hanging it on the back of his desk chair. The smile on his lips was reassuring and sweet, and he didn’t seem mad at all, but you couldn’t help the anxiousness from taking over you.

“- It’s not that bad, it has already happened to everyone to be drunk and do stupid things, believe it or not, it happened to me too.

- To bother your teacher because you were completely wasted ?”

Yunho chuckled at your remark, and he was happy to see a small smile spread on your face too. You were always trying to not look him in the eyes since the beginning of the week, and you seemed very embarrassed when Yunho didn’t want you to be. He did that out of kindness, because you were one of his favourite students and also because he couldn’t let you alone when you were in this state, he couldn’t have looked at himself in a mirror if he had let you without anyone to look after you when you were so vulnerable. 

“- Maybe not, but you get my point. It didn’t bother me, and you didn’t say anything strange, don’t worry. We can just forget all about that if you prefer, but I can assure you that you did not do anything wrong Y/N, I’m just happy I was able to get you home safely.”

Your shoulders immediately relaxed, and it was as if you could breathe more easily. You knew that your professor was honest, that he wouldn’t lie to you about something like that. 

“- Thank you so much for taking care of me. I gotta go for my next class now, but really, I’m very grateful Mr. Jeong.

- No problem, just be more careful next time.

- Of course. Have a good day !”

He greeted you back, watching as you left his office and closed the door behind you. And finally, Yunho allowed himself to slump back in his desk chair, sighing loudly. He didn’t lie to you, didn’t tell you that to make you feel better. Except the fact that you did say that you found him hot. That compliment really messed up with his mind. You were always so serious and focused during his classes, and of course, it was obvious you wouldn’t spend your weekends locked up in your room, but seeing you like this was so new, so unusual. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him, the way your dress was riding your thighs up, the way his jacket was now smelling like your intoxicating perfume - the scent of you invading the room little by little. Everything about this was making him see you in a whole different light. 

The only thing Yunho promised himself when he became a professor was to never, ever, find one of his students attractive. Maybe it was because he was young, and much closer to your age when he started teaching, and that he quickly noticed the eyes some of the girls were giving him. Anyway, he swore on his dignity and morals that he would never have this type of thoughts about a student. But now that he got to see you in your skimpy black dress, which was hugging every one of your curves perfectly, while looking him in the eyes and confessing how hot he was may have him reconsidering his decision.

He knew he shouldn’t see you this way, he knew he shouldn’t search your profile on instagram, knew that he shouldn’t look at your photos nor check you out in your pretty little outfits that you loved to post. But he did it anyway, scrolling through your account as if he was a teenager all over again. And when he stumbled over the photos you posted this summer, body on display in your little bikinis, he knew he had to stop before his thoughts started to drift to places he shouldn’t. Because it was dirty, it was disgusting and he shouldn’t think about you, his student, this way. This should have been enough to stop his mind from going back to this night, but it didn’t. And Yunho felt incredibly bad for not being able to control himself.

You felt a little better since your conversation with Mr. Jeong, reassured that you did not say anything weird to him, and that you haven’t made him uncomfortable. That didn’t ease your mind from the fact that you slept in his jacket and even had the nerves to feel cosy because you were surrounded by his scent. But you tried your best to forget it all, just like he advised you to, even if you had to be honest and admit that you did often think about the way he held you by your waist when he helped you walk to his car. 

You shook your head as you tried to concentrate back on the synopsis of the book you had in hand right now. You decided to go to a book shop with Dia this afternoon after your classes. It was something you loved to do together from time to time, always promising yourself that you won’t buy anything but coming back home with at least one new book anyway. You were not paying attention to your surroundings, entirely focused on the book you were looking at, and you didn’t feel it when someone came up behind you. 

“- I see that you’re very dedicated to my classes Y/N.”

You turned around quickly, not needing to see him to recognize the familiar voice of your teacher. He was standing there, dressed more casually than the usual suits he was always wearing for class, only in black pants and a creamy sweater. You tried not to make the blush on your face obvious as you composed yourself before answering. 

“- Well, your recommendations are always great Mr. Jeong, so I might listen to you once again. But only if it gets me one bonus point on my next assignment.”

Yunho couldn’t help the cheeky smile that spreaded on his face whenever you teased him. It wasn’t the behaviour students should have towards their teacher, but he liked it too much to ask you to stop. 

“- You know very well that I don’t get corrupted this easily. 

- And if I bring you some chocolate ?

- Then I might reconsider your proposal.”

You were ready to add something when you were interrupted by the loud ringtone of your phone. You excused yourself and turned around to answer the call. Yunho didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with a certain “Sannie”, but at the same time, if it was that private, you would’ve walked away, right ? He wondered if you were used to giving surnames like that to every one of your friends or if this guy could be your boyfriend. But why would that interest him in the first place anyway ? It wasn’t like he cared if you were single or taken. And it was none of his business, but still, the question slipped past his lips when you hung up. 

“- Was that your boyfriend ?

- Oh, no, not at all ! San is my best friend, he has been since we were kids.”

Yunho only nodded, already feeling the second-hand embarrassment of asking such a personal and inappropriate question. He needed to get out of here so you didn’t notice the way his ears were heating up, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that. 

“- I have to go but I’ll get this one. 

- Feel free to share your thoughts about it. 

- I’ll do it, thank you. Have a good day Mr. Jeong. 

- You too Y/N.”

And you left with a warm smile, asking yourself if you would have a stranger interaction than this one in your life. How come that one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met, who also happened to be your teacher, wanted to know about your love life ? You didn’t know how to handle this fact, didn’t know why he asked you that either. But it was messing with your head, making you think about things you shouldn’t, about things you never even considered before this night. Well, that was a bit of lying to yourself. Because you did think about him in this light before, did dream about him touching you in such inappropriate ways for a teacher and his student. But you pushed these thoughts away, not ready to dig into why he was making you feel like that and wouldn’t leave your mind.  

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same : how he didn’t see you like that before having you all pliant in his hold, before seeing you wearing your little black dress, before hearing you calling him hot. But if he was honest with himself, he did think that you were pretty during the first class you had with him. He did think on numerous occasions that you were smart and the kind of person he would love to go out with. But he couldn’t. Because he was your teacher, and because he was a lot much older than you. It would be inappropriate. 

Even with all of these considerations in mind, Yunho couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you every time you stepped a foot into his classroom. He tried to be as subtle as possible because he didn't want to make this situation even weirder than it already was, especially for you. Little did he know you did the same, observing him every time he wasn’t looking your way, struggling to not blush whenever you felt his eyes on you. And Yunho kept telling himself that he couldn’t do that, that it was not right to look at you the way he did, to think about the things he was thinking about every time his eyes landed on you. But he couldn’t stop it. It felt wrong, but for some kind of reason, he was unable to forget about you. 

“- Did the Mr. Jeong hype finally get to your head ?”

You wiped your head towards Dia, heart beating unsteady. She couldn’t know about what happened almost three weeks ago, right ? No she couldn't have guessed, except maybe if someone saw him driving you home. But your friend only chuckled and slapped your arm when she saw the defeated expression on your face.

“- You look like you saw a ghost ! It’s alright bestie, I wouldn’t judge you for finding him handsome, it’s a fact everyone already established.

- Why are you saying that now ?

- Because you’ve become very distracted whenever we have classes with him, and you don’t participate as much as before. Is it because you finally see him like we all do ?”

You groaned and shook your head, but Dia was too close to the truth to not unsettle you. You knew that you did nothing wrong, that it was normal to think that your obviously very attractive teacher was, in fact, very attractive. But you couldn’t kill the guilt creeping in every time you looked at his hands handing back the papers a little too long, or when you caught yourself wondering if his skin smelt as good as his leather jacket did. 

“- First, I’ve never said that he isn’t good looking, and second, I have enough decency to not drool over him during said classes.”

Lie. It was a complete lie. But Dia didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that your professor had invaded your thoughts in a way you didn’t think would be possible, and in a way that was definitely not appropriate. 

“- Decency doesn’t exist when he enters the equation.”

She was not entirely wrong, but you couldn’t let her win, because it would be like admitting to yourself that you did thirst over your teacher, more than you would like to. Luckily for you, Yunho quickly started his class and strangely enough, for the first time since the bar incident, you succeeded in following everything he was saying and not getting too distracted by his hands, or by his smile. 

“- Before I let you go, I wanted to inform you that I decided to create a debate club. I’m aware of what you must all think about these : that they are boring and never pick the subjects you want to discuss. That’s why you’ll be the ones to propose the subjects we will tackle, and you’ll be free to talk about anything you want. It can be music, politics, literature - anything. As long as you respect each others’ opinions, it’s okay for me. If you’re interested, write your name on the sheet on my desk before leaving and that’s all for today. Thank you for your attention, and have a good day.”

Conversations about Mr. Jeong’s propositions were already erupting all around the classroom. You spotted some serious students you already had study sessions with writing down their names, and a bunch of girls who just wanted to check out the teacher for one more hour per week. Dia already warned you that she didn’t have the time to engage in such activities, but you thought it couldn’t be that bad of an idea. After all, you really loved to discuss with people, and this was the perfect occasion to do so. And no, it was not because your professor will be there. Not at all. It only happened that he will animate the whole thing, it was only a coincidence. You got a pen out of your bag and started to write down your name when his now familiar voice interrupted you.

“- I could’ve bet on this.”

You didn’t dare lift your head and meet his gaze, because locking eyes with him in class was one thing - he was far away from you - but having him so close to you suddenly made you nervous. 

“- Am I so predictable ?

- A little, but I’m not complaining. I know that at least one person will actually come and that I will not be alone.”

This time, you had no other choice but to look at him as you had finished writing your name and had no excuse to look at the piece of paper anymore. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this, but your heart still missed a beat when your eyes finally dived into his. You quickly avoided his gaze, pretending to put your pen back in your bag while you searched in your brain to offer him a clever response. 

“- You know me, I’m always here when it comes to debating. 

- I wouldn’t have expected less from you Y/N.”

The way he said your name shouldn’t have made you blush, but it did. You rapidly excused yourself before literally running away from the classroom and all these feelings that shouldn’t invade your mind. It even made you hesitate on your decision to join the debate club. But you didn’t want Mr. Jeong to think that you were not serious. So you went anyway. And even if, as you predicted, not that many people showed up, you still had a good time. You were even able to not think about him in ways you shouldn’t too often. That was until he insisted on giving you all his personal phone number, so he could organise things more easily and give you the opportunity to see museums or expositions you could later discuss on. That was a perfectly sensible decision, obviously.

However, that night when you laid in your bed and couldn’t fall asleep, your fingers hovered over his contact. It was stupid to even think about it. Why would you even send him a text ? And to say what ? Ask him if he had a good day ? Or if he planned anything for the next reunion ? It was stupid, yeah. But you were one click away from sending a text. You threw your phone to the other side of your bed, running your hands over your face. You were so stupid. Stupid for thinking about Jeong Yunho as anything else than your teacher, stupid for thinking that he would even look your way, stupid for thinking that you were any different from all the girls who were swooning over him. You were just like them and even worse. 

The next meeting with the debate club came too quickly for your liking as you were not mentally prepared enough to see the teacher you couldn’t help thinking about all day long. But this was not what occupied your mind today. No. It was this one girl who thought that she was always right just because she said so. Ever since Mr. Jeong announced that the subject was going to be about music and the sense of community it could create, she hadn't shut up, interrupting everyone as if her opinion was more important. And she wouldn’t stop whining about the fact that music was too commercial these days and that there was nothing original anymore, when her playlist was essentially composed of trending songs and Taylor Swift (not that you had something against the girl, you loved some of her songs, but she was far from not being commercial.) And when you tried to argue that, no, music was not only commercial, that there were still good artists and groups that did it because they truly enjoyed and loved making music, she would get mad. Everytime someone else would defend your point of view, she would accuse them of teaming up against her. 

And you were actually a little mad at your teacher for not jumping in and telling something to this girl who was clearly being unreasonable. You ended up saying that you didn’t want to talk anymore, because even if you were not one to give up, you clearly noticed that you couldn’t win this time. You spent the rest of the debate sulking and stealing glances at Mr. Jeong, who was just observing the chaos. You didn’t understand why he would not intervene, and yes, you got that he wanted to let everyone express their opinions, but was it relevant in this case ? You packed up your things rather quickly ; this whole situation put you into a bad mood, and you just wanted to forget it. 

“- Y/N ? Are you alright ?”

His voice straddled you as he came closer to you, letting all the other students go out behind the two of you.

“- Oh, uh, yeah, I’m good. Just a little frustrated, but it’s alright.

- I understand, but this moment is also made for that, even if you’re not agreeing with her, you have to respect it. 

- I know, I don’t have a problem with her not being on my side, I just don’t like it when people victimise themselves to make me feel bad and let them have the last word. That’s not what a debate is about.”

You tried to stay focused on your bottle of water in your hands, and to not stare at him too much. He was wearing one of his black suits once more, and even more since the bar incident, it was doing something to you. 

“- Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, but not everyone here is as mature as you are. You have to take it into consideration. And it is by talking with people like you that people like her will get it and grow up.”

You shrugged, turning your head to the side because you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. You knew deep down that he was right, but you were too frustrated to admit it right now. 

“- I’ll let you sleep on that Y/N, but don’t let it deter you from coming next time, your interventions are important and I value them. A lot.”

You nodded before saying your goodbyes and quite literally running away from him, once again. He couldn’t make you feel so frustrated you wanted to break something, and the next second made your heart beat like crazy. Because his words surely did. You knew by the way he was often relying on your answers in class that he must appreciate you as a student, but to be aware that he also liked who you were as a person was something else. It was getting bad, really bad, because you couldn’t keep under control the feelings he made appear in you. And you knew it was wrong, knew that he was your teacher, knew that he probably - surely - didn’t feel the same, but you were already in too deep. 

And Yunho couldn’t help thinking the same as he watched you go away. He shouldn’t feel such attraction for his students, and he shouldn’t try to get closer to you, and he shouldn’t try to do all these things that led you to be alone with him. But still, he chose the next subject because he knew he would get a reaction out of you, because he knew it would get you all passionate about it and he loved when you were like this. 

He didn’t miss his shot because you were the first to talk when he announced that today’s session will be about Jane Austen and feminism. Yunho knew she was one of your favourite authors as you often quoted her in your assignments and used her novels as examples, so he was even aware of your opinion on them. Thus as he was regularly doing during his classes, he decided to go against your views, just to see how you would react. It was wrong to do it only to see you get passionate and involved and slightly mad at him - because you both knew that he already told you that he agreed with your ideas. 

“- I understand what you’re saying Y/N, but the fact that Austen never got married but still insisted on talking about marriage in every one of her novels could also show that it was a dream of hers, and not feminism.”

Again, you were feeling so frustrated against your teacher. But this time, it was directed straight to him. You couldn’t figure out why he would do this, nor why he was so dedicated to debating with you in particular, and not with all the other students that were agreeing with you. 

“- On this aspect, her personal life has nothing to do with it. On the contrary, it reinforces what she’s showing. In Pride and Prejudice for example, Lizzie doesn’t accept Darcy’s proposal until he changes and really proves that he loves her. Plus Darcy doesn’t do all these things so she would agree to marry him, he does it only because he loves her truly. She depicts marriage as something you should do out of love, the only happy marriages in her novels are the ones where the two parties are in love with each other. Like Jane and Bingley, and you can contrast with Lydia and Wickham and how their union is never shown as a good thing, for either them or the Bennets’. I think she never got married because she despised the men of her era, and that they wouldn’t meet her expectations, because she wanted a marriage of love, not of arrangement, or relationships or money. That’s why she is showing them so much in her books, because it reflects how she didn’t like the view on marriages during the Victorian era and the sexism she was surely enduring because of her being a writer and not trying to hide it.”

You barely breathed in between your sentences, and when you finally stopped talking, you felt like you just ran a marathon. Mr. Jeong’s gaze never left yours as you spoke, and the intensity of it was making butterflies come alive in your stomach. It was as if you could feel the tension emanating from him, from his eyes staring down at you. He seemed to snap out of his haze when someone voiced out their agreements to your little speech. And after that, he quieted down just as you did. But you could still feel him stealing glances at you, and you couldn’t help doing the same. 

He was wearing another one of his suits - a three piece grey suit, with thin, white strips on it. He had let go of the jacket a long while ago, and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. And you knew you shouldn’t find that attractive, but you did. You did and it was wrong ; because he was your teacher, and because you were supposed to be a little mad at him for refuting the obvious. 

So like a replay of last week, you stayed back, taking your time to pack up your things and waiting until everybody else left to talk to him one on one. Maybe it wasn’t what a good and well behaved student should do, maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do when you were feeling so attracted to him. Maybe. But you still carried on with your plan, trying to not get distracted by his handsome face, and his pretty hands arranging some papers on his desk. 

“- Why do you keep on pushing me to justify myself like that ? It’s embarrassing, and everyone was so silent afterwards, it was as if I said something wrong, and it’s not agreeable to feel like you are being ridiculous.”

You never had enough nerves to talk to one of your professors like that, but maybe it was the fact that you had a pretty shitty week, or that the way he was looking at you had you feeling some ways you didn’t want to, but you felt a sudden rush of energy and courage coursing through your veins.

“- You did not say anything stupid Y/N, it was very clever on the contrary. And the reason I keep doing that is because I know you have it in you to argue with me and produce this kind of well organised speech. That’s where I want to bring all of my students, but you can always improve and develop your skills. This is what I’m training you for.

- I’m not practising to go to war, Mr. Jeong. All this is not necessary if it makes us feel bad. And why would you do that in front of other students when we already talked about this in class and they all saw you agree with me ? 

- I told you, it’s only because I want you to be able to justify your answers with precise examples like you did today, because it’s important for your future assignments, for your thesis and even just in everyday life. 

- But you know I’m already able to do all that, so why would you seek out my responses everytime ? It feels like you’re targeting me.”

Your cheeks were heating up as time went on, not only because you felt hot from the way all his attention was entirely focused on you, but also because you were so frustrated you could’ve yelled at him. But you had to remind yourself that he was your teacher and that you couldn’t be that disrespectful, that this was the closest you could get to having an argument with him without getting kicked out of your university. He had come closer to you as the discussion progressed, and the sudden proximity between your two bodies didn’t help with your red cheeks. 

“- Yes, I’m targeting you, because I know you’re capable of coming up with things like this, and that you teach a lot to other people by doing so. I love to see you being passionate and invested in the subjects you’re talking about, it makes it fluid to listen to and to understand. Plus, that’s a debate club, disagreeing with you is my job here.”

You wanted to stay calm and collected so bad, wanted to stay as composed as he always was but you couldn’t help how he heightened all your emotions by his mere presence. And the compliments he was giving you didn’t help you relax either. 

“- Yes, okay, but not when you said you approved my views two weeks ago just to change your mind now and make me look like I’ve been talking nonsense all this time. 

- Don’t rely on me and my opinions Y/N, rely on you and what you’re thinking. Do not let other people dictate what you should think on a subject you know and love. 

- I know that, I’m not dumb, but you’re not just everyone else. You’re my teacher and you know what you’re talking about while I don’t. I’m only making assumptions and theories when you give us facts. It’s not the same. 

-  I don’t know it all, what we're making when talking about books and authors who are not here to confirm or deny is always assumptions. You know that I agree with what you said, you know my opinion on Austen and that’s all that matters. 

- But you made it look like what I was saying was irrelevant, you made me look like a fool and I don’t like it, especially when it’s coming from you.”

The two of you had gotten closer and closer, and you were now facing each other, with nothing in between to separate you anymore. Suddenly, you felt an overwhelming need to breathe in his scent, to take the step ahead that was distancing you from him and cut off the act. 

“- What do you mean especially when it’s coming from me ?”

Your breath accelerated when Yunho stepped forward one more time, getting way much closer than decency would allow. But you didn’t make any movement to escape. Because deep down, you wanted this, you craved this. You saw his hand coming up to your face before feeling his fingers brushing against the skin covering your jaw, leading you to raise your head and dive into his eyes. You’ve never seen him from this angle, but with the light of the late afternoon casting shadows on his face, he had never looked prettier.

“- I asked you a question, Y/N.

- I… It’s inappropriate, I shouldn’t say it, I shouldn’t even think about it.”

Despite your words that should deter him from going any further, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss. You could hear your own heart beating, aware of every breath you took and every movement of your body. When your eyes met his once again, it was as if adrenaline was spreading through your veins, a sensation that gave you the impression that you were flying. Your gaze flicked down to his lips one second too long for him not to notice and that was Yunho’s last straw as he let his hands drop down to your waist. 

“- I don’t think I should think about what is on my mind right now either.”

As if it was the hint you needed, you grabbed his neck to pull him down to your level. Your lips brushed against his one time, and the next time they met, it was for a real kiss. Yunho squeezed your waist tighter, tugging you closer to him as he let his desire take over his reason. He shouldn’t do that, but your lips tasted like the vanilla chapstick you were always putting on during his classes and that he was dying inside to kiss away. 

It was like your mouth had a mind on its own, kissing your teacher like your life depended on it. You weren’t thinking about the fact that anybody could come in and interrupt you, you weren’t thinking about the fact that what you were doing was forbidden. All you felt was the softness of his hair between your fingers, his large hands on your lower back, and his tongue playing with yours. It all felt too good to stop. 

“- Where are you going ?”

You were putting on your shoes when Dajeong’s voice interrupted you, a knowing smile on her lips. She knew very well where you were going every time you left late at night, during the weekends, she just wanted to tease you.

“- San invited me over, I’m gonna stay the night.

- Of course you are.”

She gave you a little slap on your ass before going back to the series she was watching on the living room TV. Usually, you would’ve laughed or been as excited as her to see your friend but not today. When San had proposed to you to come to his apartment to fool around, you weren’t surprised. It happened often, when neither of you wanted to be alone, when you needed someone to relieve the pressure. And most of the time, you really enjoyed the time you spent together, fooling around without any feelings. But tonight, it was for more selfish reasons that you said yes. 

Because when San was touching you, you were only able to think back to how Yunho’s fingers squeezing your waist felt. And when he kissed you, you could only think back to the way Yunho’s lips made your whole body come alive again. And when he fucked you, you wished it could be Yunho instead. You felt bad, both because you were using your friend to quit thinking about someone else, and because that someone else was your teacher. 

It shouldn’t have felt so good to kiss him, it shouldn’t have sparked a flame and made you crave more, it shouldn’t have made you want to drop to your knees for him. You should’ve been disgusted with yourself and what you did, you should’ve been apologising to him the very next day. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate this moment, nor to forget it. It was engraved in your memory, enough for you to search him up on social media even when San was holding you in his arms, both of you still naked. It was wrong, once again, but you already crossed the line too many times to count, so who cared anymore ?

For a few weeks, you didn’t even dare to look at him too long, afraid to remember once again how delicious his lips felt on yours. And you didn’t feel his eyes following your every movement like you grew used to. It felt weird, to not have his gaze focused on you, and to see him avert even looking your way during each one of his classes. You stopped going to the debate class, and you stopped answering every one of his questions during lectures. 

And Yunho felt like he had fucked everything up. He should’ve stopped when he started to be attracted to you. He should’ve stopped when he started to seek out your presence even more. He should’ve stopped before kissing you. After you ran away last time, he considered sending you a text to apologise, and ask you to not say anything about what happened. But he didn’t, he wanted to let you breathe and have some time for yourself. Except that he started to get worried about the situation. You hadn’t tried to talk about it with him, you hadn’t come to the debate class since this incident. He spent all his time trying to figure out how to handle the mess he created. That was the question going through his mind once more when you stepped into his classroom for the debate club, looking around to see that no one except you and him were here. 

“- Uh… I’m sorry, did I miss something ?”

Yunho turned to you, and for the first time in weeks, he really looked at you, taking in your silhouette and your outfit - one of the little skirts you loved so much, and your signature black, thigh boots. He should’ve been stressed to see you again, anxious to have to talk to you about this kiss. But instead he felt relief wash over him, and it was like he could breathe again. He looked down at the paper covering his usually organised desk, realising that he had to answer you, even if his voice was shaking a little. 

“- I cancelled today’s reunion, I wasn’t feeling very well.”

You nodded your head, looking around the classroom as if you were searching for something. You debated in your head if you should address the subject with your teacher or not. You were too nervous to talk about it, afraid that he would act like it didn’t ever happen, or worse, as if it didn’t mean anything to him. You were about to go away, to run away, like the other time, when you heard his voice behind you, loud and clear. 

“- Wait ! Please, wait. We need to talk.”

You hesitated for a few moments, your hand hovering above the doorknob. Yunho saw your arm drop by your side before you turned around, taking some steps in his direction, and he was already relieved that you weren’t going to find him disgusting or scream at him. He didn’t need much time to figure out what he was going to tell you, having replayed this exact scene again and again in his head, too many times for his own good. 

“- I have to apologise for what happened last time. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, or to scare you away. And I’m also sorry for kissing you like that, it was wrong of me, I should’ve never done that. We can forget all about it, or you can do whatever you want because I’ve done enough to make things worse.”

You stayed silent, for seconds that felt like hours for Yunho. He prayed inside that you were going to forgive him, that you were going to tell him that it was okay, that you would simply not talk about it ever again and let him feel guilty about this for the rest of his life. 

“- It’s okay Mr. Jeong, it was a mistake, it could’ve happened to everyone. And I have some parts to take in this too. But I understand. It was a mistake anyway, it didn’t mean anything.” 

It didn’t mean anything. These were the words he unconsciously hoped you wouldn’t pronounce. Because even if he tried to deny it, it meant something to him. It meant so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It meant so much that everytime he sat at his desk, he thought back to the moment he kissed you. It meant so much that even weeks later, he still didn’t forget the taste of your lips, the feeling of having you so close to him. And he craved it. He needed it again. 

“- It’s okay if you want to think about it as a mistake.

- Why are you saying that ?

- Because for me it wasn’t.”

His eyes crossed yours, enough for him to see this little spark he noticed before he captured your lips last time. Maybe it wasn’t only a mistake for you either. Maybe he didn’t fuck it all up. Maybe he still had a chance to make this right, if there was any way to make all of this right.

“- It did mean something to me. I… I haven't stopped thinking about it. I can’t focus on anything else other than you.”

It was as if your breath was knocked out of your lungs again. He did that too much lately. But the intensity with which he was staring at you and your lips, and his confession had your heart feeling weak. And surely, you shouldn’t indulge in your fantasy. Surely, you shouldn’t let yourself get seduced by your teacher. But you were already in too deep, and you couldn’t ignore anymore the way he was making you feel. 

“- I can’t either. I think… I think you should kiss me again, maybe it’ll help.

- Maybe you’re right.”

Yunho bypassed his desk, and you joined him, throwing yourself in his arms. He cradled your face between his hands, and this time he didn’t hesitate when he put his lips on yours, sighing in relief when the taste of your vanilla chapstick invaded his senses again. And the way you were tugging at his suit jacket to pull him closer to you told him everything he needed to know. 

“- Fuck… I missed you so bad Y/N, thought I had messed up everything.”

You stared up at him, now able to see the lust, the desire he had for you going through his brown eyes, and it made your inside flip. You had dreamt about this so much, even if you would’ve rather died than admitted it. But it was true. You were dreaming about having him so close to you, about having him tell you how much he wanted you, about having him just like this. 

“- You didn’t, not at all.”

That was all the talking that was made. Because you already talked too much, and even if he loved hearing your soft voice, all Yunho needed right now was to taste you again, to drown himself in your body and your addicting, intoxicating scent. You didn’t stop him when he reached for your thighs to lift you up and drop you on his desk, not caring about the assignments sheets you were sitting on. 

You discovered the way his lips against yours felt again, savoured the way his tongue played with yours again. And you loved it just as much as the first time, maybe even more. Because this time, you were truly desperate to feel as much as him as possible. You reached to grab his waist, spreading your legs and bringing him even closer to you. And Yunho complied, because he was just as desperate to finally have you all for himself. He let his hands wander from your back to your thighs, and feeling up your bare skin under his fingers was already driving him crazy. 

You tilted your head to the side when Yunho displaced his kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jawline and then the side of your neck. He was almost devouring you, but you weren’t complaining : it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed. You felt his hands creep up higher, reaching for the hem of your skirt, and his hot breath hitting the now wet skin of your neck. 

“- Do you know how bad I wanted to do this every time you walked in my classroom wearing those skirts and these boots ? Do you know how hard it was to not think about doing exactly that whenever you were looking at me ?”

You let out a moan, not really knowing if it was because of what he just told you or because of the fact that he just gave you a hickey. Your heart was beating too fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Yunho kissed down your clothed-covered body, making his way to where his hands were still laying. But it was only when he dropped on his knees and pushed your legs apart some more that you realised what he was doing, your words getting stuck in your throat and being replaced by a pathetic whimper when he kissed the inside of your left thigh instead.

“- Is that okay ?

- Y-Yes Mr. Jeong.

- Call me Yunho, will you ?”

You quickly nodded your head, already far too gone because of his feather like touch everywhere except where you needed him the most. 

“- Good girl.”

And as if it wasn’t already enough to get another noise out of you, he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs, revealing your soaked panties to his hungry gaze. Immediately, he dived in, licking a strip of your arousal through the material of your underwear. This time, another moan escaped you and it encouraged Yunho to push the piece of clothing to the side and taste your juices for real. The groan he let out against your folds had you shivering ang trying to close your legs around his head. But he was holding them with an iron grip, making it impossible for you to move. 

You threw your head back when he sucked on your clit for the first time, one of your hands flying to take a hold of his hair, keeping him just where he was. He ate you out just like he kissed you - hungrily, like a starved man, like it was his last meal. And you were loving it all, trying to keep down your noises because anyone walking by the classroom could hear you and decide to walk in, and you could get in trouble. But the thrill of getting caught was making everything feel so much better. 

“- Feeling good, angel ?

- Yes, so good, don’t stop please…”

The nickname had your legs trembling in no time, and the way he was lapping at your cunt had you close to the edge already. You could feel your pussy clenching around nothing as he sucked on your clit again, making more of your juices come out that he didn’t waste any time licking up. The force with which he was holding your thighs open made you wonder if he could use the same strength to put you in all the positions he wished, if he would use the same strength on you to make you unable to move and fuck you until you passed out. 

“- Yunho… I’m close…”

He hummed against you, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge. He didn’t need to do much, because you had been waiting for this for too long, and because he felt too good to resist. As you felt your orgasm wash over you, your hand that wasn’t busy in his hair gripped the first things you could reach - one of the paper scattered on his desk, and you couldn’t even feel guilty about the way you crumpled it between your fingers, the rush of pleasure taking over you so strongly you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else. 

When you had regained enough consciousness for your legs to support your weight again, Yunho helped you come down off his desk, his hands not leaving your waist even when you were standing in front of him. You smiled when you saw how much you had messed up his hair, as they were going in every direction, and you tried to smother it a little. 

“- Let me see you this week-end if you are free. I want us to talk, and I want to take my time with you, make you understand everything you make me feel.”

And you agreed. Of course. But you started to regret it when you found yourself all alone, in the room of the hotel Yunho had sent you the address of. You were aware that you couldn’t just welcome him at your dorm, or go to his apartment either, because there were risks that someone would recognize you. So here you were, waiting for him. Despite what had happened earlier this week, it still felt incredibly wrong to be there, to do what you were about to do. You looked around the room, where nothing felt familiar and everything felt odd, as if you shouldn’t be here. You were almost ready to leave when the door opened and Yunho entered. 

He was dressed in a pair of black pants, some sneakers and a beige pullover. His casual outfit clashed with the slightly revealing white dress you were wearing underneath your trench. And you felt ridiculous for thinking that putting on something like this was appropriate, though nothing about this situation was appropriate. 

“- I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anywhere to park my car.”

Yunho’s voice broke down the heavy silence hanging in the air, but it didn’t dissipate the strange atmosphere. The room was filled with tension, with unspoken words, with something dangerous and forbidden, but so tempting. 

“- It’s okay, I haven’t been here for long.”

The moment was awkward, neither one of you knowing what to do with themselves. You couldn’t tell him that you were about to leave when he arrived. And he couldn't tell you that the real reason he was late was because he hesitated before coming. But all it took was one eye contact, one look a little too insistent at each other for your lips to find themselves once again, as if they knew better than yourselves what you wanted. And suddenly, nothing felt weird anymore, nothing felt wrong anymore, and everything was finally fitting perfectly - from the way he was holding your waist, to the way the skin of his neck felt under your fingertips. 

“- I missed you.”

The words he whispered against your lips made you feel everything you’ve been needing without knowing it. And you thought that maybe, this wasn’t such a big mistake. And when Yunho’s hands found their way underneath the skirt of your dress to caress the soft skin of your plush thighs, your brain disconnected, letting your emotions control you instead. You got rid of your trench, the material falling to the ground and soon joined by his jacket. You didn’t resist when he grabbed you by your waist to hold you flush against him and kiss you again, finally letting your hands slip under the hem of his pullover and touching his skin. Once again, the way he was kissing you left you dizzy, unable to think about anything other than him. 

“- This dress… 

- Do you like it ? Or is it too much ?

- Fuck, no, it’s…”

He took another look at the way the white tissue was hugging all your curves just right, underlining your silhouette and making you look like an angel. And the fact that you dressed up just for him made his hunger for you grow even more. So when he felt the urge to kiss you again, and again, and again, he gave into it, like he had wanted to for so much longer than he thought. 

“- It’s perfect, you’re beautiful.”

You wanted to compliment him right back, but he didn’t give you enough time to do so, mingling his tongue with yours instead. And you didn’t complain, because you couldn’t get enough of the taste of his lips, of the way his big hands were guiding you to sit on the bed, of the way he was looking at you. You watched closely as he got on his knees to get you rid of these thigh boots that were driving him crazy. Then, he helped you out of your dress, revealing your white lingerie set. 

You thought you would’ve been shy, or embarrassed to let him see you like this. But all you felt right now was desire, and confidence. You smiled when you saw him lick his lips while staring down at your body, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you started to unbuckle his belt. Yunho let you do what you wanted, obeying when you asked him to take off his pullover. When you managed to get rid of his pants, you finally allowed yourself to properly drool over him.

You looked up at him from your sitting position on the bed, while he was still standing in between your legs. It was like crossing his gaze at this precise moment made you realise how real all of this was, and you were hit with the fact that you were really going to fuck with your teacher. But you couldn’t find it in you to fight the feeling anymore. It was too late anyway, you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. 

So you did nothing to stop him when Yunho pushed your shoulders so you would lay on the bed. You did nothing to stop him when he started to kiss your neck and covered the skin in his marks. You did nothing to stop him when his hands began to roam all around your body because he couldn’t choose only one spot to touch and focus on, because he needed all of you. 

“- I thought you wanted to talk.”

But with the way your fingers were threading through his hair as he massaged your breast over your bra, you definitely weren’t up to talk either. 

“- We’re gonna talk, but after I’ve fucked you.”

He punctuated his sentence by pushing your boobs out of your bra and leaning down to suck on your right nipple. And you couldn’t contradict him when all you were able to do was moan and ask for more. Yunho slowly made his way down to your panties, kissing every part of your exposed skin until he could remember every mole and imperfection of your body. And by the time he took off your underwear, you were already dripping wet and you couldn’t breathe properly anymore. 

“- Please Yunho, please don’t tease…

- Why’s that angel ? You need me that bad ?

- Yes, yes I need you, I want you.”

Finally hearing it from you and not from the dreams he was making did it for Yunho as he searched for a condom in his jacket’s pocket, while you were throwing away the last pieces of clothing separating your skin from his. And you couldn’t help admiring him and his tall frame, his sculpted back, the veins in his hands and arms, his abs slightly peaking out. Everything about him, every inch of him was perfect, made by the Gods. 

And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock either, following his every movement as he got rid of his boxers and put the condom on. It was big, but just as pretty as him, and you already knew he would fill you up just right. When he was close enough to the bed again, you grabbed his hands, pulling him to lay on top of you and kissing him like it was the last time you could taste his lips. 

“- Please Yunho, fuck me…”

And he couldn’t do anything else than do it, sliding right in with how wet you were even if you could still feel the way his cock was stretching you out. But you couldn’t help the moan escaping you when he bottomed out, nor could Yunho stop himself from groaning at how tight you were clenching around him. 

“- Feeling so good around me angel, like you were made for me.”

You were ready to answer, but the force with which he thrusted inside of you stopped you from doing so, uttering a strangled noise instead that was quickly replaced by endless whines and moans as Yunho started to fuck into you. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel good, as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. He found his way to your waist again, pinning your hips down to the mattress so he could do what he wanted, fuck you like he had been wanting to for far too long. 

You could feel your mind drifting far away as all the tension you accumulated these past weeks left your body, washed away by pleasure and desire, washed away by the way Yunho was looking down at you with hooded eyes, lips parted and letting out the most sinful sounds you’ve ever heard. But you needed to feel him even closer to you, impossibly closer to you. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down against you. He reached for your legs, guiding you to bend them more until he could hit this sweet spot that made your head fall back with a cry of his name. 

“- I’m not gonna last long angel, been waiting for this for too long. 

- Me too, I’m close, please… 

- You sound so hot when you’re begging.”

You made sure to remember this piece of information before abandoning yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, and of his skilled fingers teasing your clit, the combination making you clench around him impossibly tight as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your release triggered Yunho as he buried his face in your neck, groaning about how good you felt while filling up the condom with his cum. And the crazy thought of him filling you up instead crossed your mind, and it made the feeling of slight overstimulation even more intense. 

You were so out of it that you almost didn’t feel the moment when Yunho got up to throw away the condom. You had purposefully decided to not think about all the consequences that what you just did implied, you just wanted to enjoy this a little longer. So when he came to lay down with you again, you got closer to him immediately, like magnets who couldn’t resist the attraction. His fingers brushing against your cheek encouraged you to turn your head to the side, diving in his hypnotising brown eyes. You stayed like that for a moment, simply looking at each other without saying anything. And as if it was the only thing your bodies knew how to do, you joined your lips again. 

This time, it was slower, more sensual. If before you were devouring each other, now you took your time to savour the taste of his lips and tongue, to appreciate the way his hands were gliding on your skin, tracing invisible patterns on your lower back. It felt so much more intimate than what all this should have been, but it was too late, so you might as well fuck it all up completely. 

This time, Yunho didn’t rush anything, letting you decide on the pace. He let you do what you wanted when you got on top of him, let you deepen the kiss, he let you caress and discover his body. Your kisses wandered from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, going down to his neck, his collarbone, his pecks, his abs, his v-line, careful not to leave any marks on him. You could hide the single hickey he gave you, but you didn’t want to take any risk. When you reached his inner thighs, his hands had made their way to your head, his fingers tangling between the messy strands of your hair. You looked up at him, the desire pouring from your eyes making his heart beat faster. 

“- Can I ?

- Do whatever you want, angel.”

You smiled before you resumed your soft kisses along the skin of his thighs. But this time, you let them go up to his hardening dick. It was even prettier up close - and you’ve never thought you would say that about a dick one day, but you’ve never thought you would fuck with your teacher either. You kissed his length from the tip to the base, before running your tongue along the path you had traced. The action got a gasp out of Yunho, and you could feel him staring down at you as you kitten licked his flushed tip a few times. You wanted to take things slow, to remember this for as long as possible, but you were craving his taste, craving to feel him even more so you just took him into your mouth. He was big to say the least, and you could feel him, heavy on your tongue, stretching your throat as you started to bob your head up and down, stroking with your hands what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Yunho watched you intently, mouth slightly open and letting out sighs and grunts because you just felt that good. The sinful vision you offered was enough to make these weeks of mentally torturing himself totally worth it. Maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were making him feel, maybe he shouldn’t love the way you were whining around his shaft, maybe he shouldn’t love the way saliva was spilling out from the corners of your mouth. But he couldn’t care less when he gripped your hair harder and you moaned around his cock, eyes watering and nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 

“- Shit angel, you’re taking it so well. You’re so good to me.”

You hummed around him once more, resisting the urge to gag around him, relaxing your throat until you could take all of him in your mouth. You felt Yunho sit up straight, so he could get a better look at the way his cock was sliding in and out of your lips with ease. The sight was truly mesmerising, and he wanted to engrave it in his memory. 

“- I want to fuck your throat so bad, angel. Will you let me ?”

The pleased sound you let out after he grazed your scalp a few times let him know how willing you were to do just that. Yunho pulled on your hair roughly, forcing you to take all of him, until your nose was rubbing against his stomach and your hands were desperately pawing at his thighs. His thrusts were slow but hard, just what you wanted, just what you needed. 

“- You’re such a good girl Y/N, fuck, you’re going to make me cum. I can do it inside of your pretty mouth, right ?”

You agreed with strangled noises as best as you could with the way he was ruining your throat, but it was enough for Yunho to understand and a few seconds later, he buried himself as deep as he could one last time, cumming down your throat with a loud moan of your name. You did your best to shallow everything, some drops of the sticky substance spilling out. Yunho didn’t waste time picking them up with his fingers, sliding them between your lips instead of his cock, commanding for you to lick them clean, which you gladly did. When he finally let you breathe again, your throat was sore, but you were so wet you could feel your juices sliding down the inside of your thighs. 

“- Open your mouth for me angel, yes just like that. Good girl.”

Yunho grabbed you by your throat bringing your face closer to his and kissing you messily. He didn’t care that he just came into your mouth, he didn’t care that he could still feel his own taste on your tongue as you made out with him, on the contrary, it made everything so much more intense, so much better, so much more special. 

“- Was it good ?

- It was a perfect angel, you’re perfect.”

His hands slid down from your neck to your ass, guiding you to sit on his lap. His touch made you shiver, your back arching unconsciously. 

“- Want me to return the favour angel ?

- Yes please, I want your fingers…”

Yunho pushed you so you would lay down on the bed again, his fingers immediately dipping to your core, brushing lightly against your clit. His fingertips glided with ease against your slit, collecting your juices and spreading them everywhere. And you were hypnotised by the sight, thinking about how well his long fingers would fit perfectly inside of you, how they could reach your sweet spot so easily. 

“- You’re so wet, Y/N, you’re dripping on my hand.

- Please, Yunho…”

The way you were begging for him, the way you were calling his name, the way you were grabbing his biceps, trying to entice him in finally pushing his fingers inside of you - everything was driving him crazy, you were driving him crazy, and he was convinced that he didn’t want all of that to ever stop. His gaze was fixed on your face scrunching up with pleasure when he finally put one finger inside of your clenching pussy. 

“- Feels good ?

- Yes, so good.

- You want another one ?

- Please…”

Yunho bit his lip when he watched you take his second finger with ease, relishing in your sweet voice moaning at the way he was able to reach so deep without making any efforts. You were being so good, and he didn’t have to do anything for you to do so. You were pleading for him so easily, like it was natural, and that was making him feel even more dizzy with want and desire for you. He started to pump his fingers slowly, the squelching sounds from your wet cunt echoing through the room along with your whimpers for more. His other hand creeped up to your thigh, making sure to keep them open. Pleasure was clouding your mind, but your eyes were unable to leave the sight of the veins bulging in his forearms as he fingered you restlessly, thinking about all the ways he could control you, about all the positions he could put you in if he wanted to. 

And when it all started to feel too good, you plopped down against the pillows, not able to hold your own weight anymore from how his fingers were making you feel. Whenever he was curling them against that one spot, your brain turned to mush, and you could only whine and cry for more. You closed your eyes, already feeling close to your relief, but not wanting him to stop. 

“- Yunho… 

- What do you want, angel ?

- I-I want you to fuck me again, please…”

He didn’t let you have any time to think as he bent down to kiss you again, as a reward for being so good to him, so good for him, so perfect for him.

“- Cum on my fingers first, and I’ll fuck you as many time as you want, okay ?”

You nodded energetically, too turned on to think about anything else that wasn’t him. He let down your thigh to circle your clit, efficiently bringing you to your climax in seconds. Your nails dug into his biceps as the rush was taking over you, clenching around his fingers and moaning so loudly he was certain that the people in the room next to you could hear you scream his name. But he loved it, he was loving all of this a little too much. 

But Yunho didn’t ask himself more questions as he got up to find another condom in his pockets. He didn’t dare interrogate why it felt so good when he entered your pussy for the second time. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know why hearing you moan his name again and again made his heart beat faster. All he wanted right now was you, all he needed right now was you and your perfect body. 

This time, he wanted to feel you, to really feel you. So he purposely slowed down his thrusts, and even when you wrapped your legs around his waist, all he did was to suck another hickey in between your breasts. It was frustrating, but it also felt insanely good, the type of pleasure that made you unable to think, that made you go to another world because it just felt that good. You knew you were babbling incoherently, mewling for him to go faster, but you were already too far gone to care about how desperate you must look. 

In the heat of the moment, Yunho didn’t think twice before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down to the mattress, but you only whined and clenched around him tighter as an answer. And that made him lose control, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, without any rhythm, because you just felt that good. 

“- Yunho ! I’m gonn- Ah ! Oh my god…

- Cum for me angel, fuck, let me hear you.”

His words pushed you over the edge, the overstimulation from your two previous orgasm making this one feel even more intense and fulfilling. Your moans were high-pitched, but you couldn’t keep your voice down, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else than Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You could hear him groan as he pulled out, throwing the condom away to pump himself on top of you. He only needed a few seconds to cum on your chest, the white fluid soon covering them and even that felt good. 

You felt so out of your own body that you almost didn’t register when Yunho grabbed some tissues to clean your skin. But the ringtone of your phone was like a brutal reminder that this was only a little bubble that couldn’t last forever. You got up from the bed to answer your phone, Dajeong on the other line reminding you of a gathering with some of your friends that you had completely forgotten, too focused on Yunho and what you just did. As soon as you hung up, you started to put your clothes back on. The awkward silence from before was coming back, but you didn’t want to end it like that. You wished you could’ve stayed with him a little longer, but you had to be realistic : you weren’t his girlfriend and you’ll never be. But when he grabbed your arm and kissed you passionately while you were fully dressed up and he was only wearing his underwear, it felt exactly like that. 

“- Text me later, okay ? I still want us to talk.”

This was becoming too serious for you and you could feel your heart beating too fast for your liking when he cradled your face in his hands to force you to meet his eyes. 

“- So you want to see me again ?

- How could I not ?”

You simply smiled and kissed him again before you left. Your legs were still weak, and when you looked at your reflections in the mirror of the elevator, it was like what you did was written all over your face - in your smudged lipstick and your ruffled hair. But it felt too good, and you were already addicted. You knew it would not be easy to stop, but you preferred to pretend that it could last forever for now. 

You were afraid that everything would feel weird, that you wouldn’t even dare to look at him, or that maybe he would be the one putting an end to all of this. But he didn’t. And the way he was looking at you during his classes could only mean that he craved you just as much as you craved him. And stealing glances at each other was basically all you were able to do for the whole week, because you had a ton of assignments to work on, and because he had too much work. Both of you agreed through text that it was too risky to do anything on the campus, that nothing should happen again in his office. 

However, that didn’t stop your mind from coming back to when he ate you out on his desk, or to him fucking you, or to the way his cock was feeling so heavy on your tongue. And that didn’t stop Yunho from thinking back to your plush thighs clenching around his head, or to your taste, or the way you were screaming his name when he was hitting the right spot. Every night when you came back from your classes, you laid down on your bed, trying to make the aching in your core go away, but the only thing that could satisfy you was him, and you knew it. 

Your frustration reached its peak on Friday when Lola cancelled your night out because she had to work early the next morning. You knew it wasn’t her fault, that it was her colleague for calling in sick just so she could go see her boyfriend, but it still annoyed you, and it was the cherry on top. This whole week would have been stressing enough, but the fact that Yunho made eye contact with you whenever he could, and that he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours every time he handed you some documents added to your irritation. 

You didn’t think twice when you sent him a text, asking him to join you to the hotel because you needed him badly. You didn’t feel ashamed of how desperate and needy you were, because you were too horny to care about the fact that you shouldn’t miss him so much after only one week of not seeing each other. And maybe Yunho should have resisted more but he longed for you, he had wanted you all week and he couldn’t contain his desire anymore. 

This time, he didn’t even greet you when he entered the hotel room, going straight for your lips and taking control of the kiss, devouring your mouth as if you were his oxygen. Maybe you should've talked before doing this again, but lust was clouding his and your mind, none of you thinking about anything else than releasing the tension. 

Soon enough, the floor was covered in your clothes as Yunho manhandled you on your knees, ass up and face down in the pillows, two of his fingers already buried deep inside of you. If last time, he wanted to take his time, today he just needed to ruin you, to break you down, to see you cry for him. And that was exactly what you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do to you. Your brain had already been disconnected, the words coming out of your mouth against your will. 

“- Please Yunho fuck me, please wanna feel you raw, want you to fill me up, please…”

His fingers stilled inside of you for a few seconds, almost making you cry out at the loss of stimulation. What you were asking him to do was crazy, it was not safe, but the way his dick throbbed made all the thinking for him - he wanted that, he dreamt about that.

“- Are you sure about that angel ? 

- Yes, please ! I’m on the pill, I’ll take a plan B, but please I need you, please…”

It was still dangerous, it was still nonsense, but Yunho wasn’t thinking with his brain anymore, nothing logical was crossing his mind anymore. 

“- Fuck, you’re going to kill me Y/N.”

But he loved it, and he loved how tight you felt around him when he pushed his cock inside, loved how he could feel you even better like that, loved how pliant you were in his hold. He gripped your waist as he bottomed out, forcing you to stay still and all you could do was moan out his name like a prayer, because you could feel everything, because it felt even more intense like that, because his strength excited you. And Yunho didn’t hesitate when he started to pound into you, the feeling of your bare cunt around his dick making him delirious. You arched your back more, trying to fuck yourself against his cock because you always wanted more, you always craved more. 

“- You’re such a slut, angel. Fuck ! You’re letting me fuck you raw but you get shy when I look at you, uh ? You’re so fucking naughty.”

You adored it when he called you his good girl, but the way he was holding the back of your neck to keep your head buried in the pillow, and the way he was ruining you felt just as good. The adrenaline rushing in your veins had you getting closer to the edge so quickly, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were unable to say anything else than his name, choking on your words, mewling from the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. 

And Yunho wanted to talk dirty to you, to whisper all the things he knew you loved in your ears, but his mind was clouded with want, and he couldn’t think straight. All he wanted was to spill his load inside of you, do the things he imagined when he was alone, these things he forbade himself to think about. But now he could, and he never felt better than buried deep inside your tight cunt. 

“- Gonna cum inside of you, okay ? Gonna fill you up like the slut you are, angel.

- Please !”

The moan he let out when he stilled inside of you was so erotic you could’ve come only listening to his voice, but the feeling of his cum painting your insides white was what made it for you, your body growing limp in his hold. His grip on your neck and hips tightened, maybe enough to leave you with some marks but you didn’t care. Both of you had trouble coming down, but when you were finally able to, Yunho helped you lay down with him, your head resting on his chest as you were still trying to catch your breath. You felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your face and you looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat when your gaze crossed. 

“- I wasn’t too rough, right ?

- No, it was perfect, I loved it.”

You smiled at each other, and even if it felt too intimate, and even if it was what couples did and not whatever the two of you were, he leaned down to kiss your lips softly. 

“- I loved it too. I think I just want to keep spending a good time with you, I don't want things to get more complicated than they already are, if that’s okay with you. Let’s keep it as simple as possible, yeah ?

- Yeah, I’d like that.”

You were the one to kiss him this time, as if you wanted to seal your agreement, as if it was a silent promise. 

“- Where are we going ?

- It’s a surprise. You can choose the music if you want.”

You didn’t waste any time going through Yunho’s playlist, teasing him about some songs you didn’t think he would listen to and finally settling on a Lana del Ray song. It had been a week since you decided to just do what felt right and not think too much, and he had asked you if you were free to spend your Saturday with him. Of course, you said yes, but you didn’t think that he would pick you up in his car and drive you somewhere, thinking he just wanted to change from the hotel you were always meeting up and show you another place, but it felt like he was literally taking you on a date. 

You watched the landscape unfold through the car window, casually chatting with Yunho about how your week went, about what you ate yesterday, about which book you read lately. Sometimes, you thought that the age difference between the two of you would make things awkward, or that it would clash with your opinions. But it was the exact opposite. Your conversations felt natural, as if you had known each other for decades, as if eight years weren’t separating you. You were twenty-two, you were an adult and you could make your own choices, but sometimes, you were worried about the way he was perceiving you. 

“- Y/N ? We’re almost there.”

You looked down at your phone, seeing that it had in fact been over an hour since he had picked you up and you apparently fell asleep. You yawned as you checked your makeup and hairstyle in the mirror of the sun visor, glad to see that your little nap hadn’t messed up anything. When Yunho stopped the car, you were in a narrow street, where not many stores could be seen. You were about to get out when he asked you to wait, getting out himself and making his way over to the passenger door, opening it for you and offering you his hand to help you out. And smiled up at him as you got out of his car. 

“- You’re such a gentleman.

- For you ? Always.”

His cheeky smile made you giggle, but the fact that he didn’t let go of your hand as he walked you to one of the few shops on the street made your heart skip a beat. He did nastier things to you, said words that would have made anyone feel embarrassed, but for some reason, this small gesture dusted your cheeks in a pink tone that wasn’t due to your excessive use of blush. 

“- I really wanted to show you this place, I think you’re gonna love it.”

He held the door for you, a little bell ringing as you entered a cute, little bookshop. The smell of old pages invaded your nostrils as Yunho guided you through the shelves with a hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t help looking all around, stunned by how much books were in there, by how many you recognized the titles of. The atmosphere of the whole boutique was welcoming and warm, the sunlight reflecting through the coloured glass of the front window displaying moving shadows everywhere and adding to its charm. 

“- You like it ?”

You turned to him with a big smile on your face, almost ready to squeal with excitement. 

“- Of course I like it ! If I could spend my life there I would !

- No one’s stopping you angel.”

A big smile spread on his face as he kissed your forehead and let you wander around, eyes opening wide every time you saw a title you recognized. You were fitting perfectly in the setting with the black bow in your hair, your little brown skirt and your white turtleneck. Yunho was so lost in his contemplation that he almost didn’t hear the lady holding the shop coming out of the stocking room.

“- Yunho ! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there !

- Yeah Mrs. McMillan, I’m sorry I’ve been quite busy.”

The old lady shook her head, her long, white hair flying around as she did so. 

“- I’ve already told you to call me Isabel, honey, I’m not that old ! And you brought a pretty girl along this time.”

Yunho turned back to you, watching you fondly as you piled up books in your arms, and soon enough the stack would be higher than you. 

“- Is that love I’m seeing in your eyes ?

- No, not at all, she’s only a friend.”

Putting that label on you made his heart ache, because he knew you were so much more than that, and Isabel seemed to know it as well because she looked at him with a gaze filled with disapproval as you came to the counter, still smiling. 

“- Y/N, this is Isabel McMillan, she has been selling books here since I’ve been alive. 

- Nice to meet you Mrs. McMillan ! I have to say that this shop might become my new favourite place, there’s so many things there, it’s incredible !”

Your excitement was contagious as a smile took over the old woman's features too, softening at having someone as passionate as you to compliment her. 

“- Don’t take on your friend’s bad habits, call me Isabel, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re enjoying my hard work. 

- I really do. If I could, I would buy half of these books but sadly I cannot.”

As Isabel noted down the title of the books you wanted to buy - because she didn’t want to use technology, saying it was too tiring to learn these things at her advanced age - Yunho couldn’t detach his eyes from you. 

“- Since you’re with Yunho, and because I’m starting to like you, young lady, I’m going to offer you a little reduction. It’s rare to see people being so dedicated to literature these days, it will not do any harm to my business to encourage you to come again.

- Thank you so much ! But I’m gonna tell you a secret : I would’ve come back, even without that.”

The old lady laughed out loud, along with you and Yunho joined the two of you, because your good mood was infectious. 

“- Do you still have the book I asked you to put away last time ?

- Of course, honey, I’m a woman of words.”

She crouched down behind the counter and came up with a book she handed him. 

“- I’ll pay for it, and all the ones Y/N is taking.

- What ? No, Yunho this is almost fifty euros, it’s too much.

- Can’t I spoil you ? It’s my pleasure angel, I wanna do this for you so let me, okay ?”

The nickname had you unable to hold eye contact with him much longer, and you folded, letting him pay for your books, with butterflies coming alive in your stomach as he held the door for you again on your way out. And Isabel watched all this happen, and she couldn’t help scolding Yunho in his head for being so blind about his own feelings, for being so blind to the way you were looking at him with heart eyes. But after all, it was none of her business. 

“- Put the books in my car, then we can go grab a coffee if you want. 

- I’d like that, yeah ! And thank you for the books, you didn’t have to. 

- Yes, but I wanted to. Stop worrying about that okay ?”

You nodded as you reached his car and you dropped the books on his back seat. But before you could close the door, he handed you the book he took for himself. 

“- This one is also for you. I saw it last time and thought that you might like it. Maybe you could read it while I’m reading one of yours, and when we’re done, we could hand it back with annotations and talk about it. What do you think ?”

When you looked up at him, he looked anxious, maybe because he thought that you wouldn’t like his idea. But you did, the simple fact that he thought about you when seeing this book made you feel dizzy. 

“- I think I love this idea. Wait a minute.”

You turned around, rummaging through all your new books in search of the one you saw and that you bought for the sole reason that it reminded you of him. 

“- I picked up this one thinking about you, actually, so you might read it as well.”

You handed him the book, and he took it gladly as you grabbed the one he picked up for you too. You finally closed the car door and you both headed downtown to find a coffee shop. The first time your hand brushed against his, you didn’t dare to take it. And the second time, he didn’t dare to do it. So the third time, you took a deep breath and intertwined your fingers with his, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, both of you wearing a bright smile on your faces. 

The coffee shop you found was surprisingly pretty empty considering it was a Saturday evening, but you were glad there were not that many people. When you approached the counter, you were ready to recite your favourite coffee order when Yunho took the lead and listed down your usual as if it was written in his mind. You couldn’t even listen to the rest of the things he said to the cashier, focused on why he knew that when you never told him. He must’ve noticed you blankly staring at him, because he turned to you with a little smirk. 

“- What ? You’re surprised I know this ?

- Yes, a little. How did you figure it out ?

- Well, you always come to my classes with the same thing, it was not difficult to notice.”

You rolled your eyes, mainly to hide how flustered the information made you feel. 

“- You’re so obsessed with me.”

As the cashier put your orders down on the counter and announced the price of your drinks, Yunho mouthed “Yes” to you as he paid again for the both of you without letting you enough time to even reach for your purse. And before you could even start to protest, he effectively shut you up by kissing your cheek and dragging you along with him to find an isolated table where you both sat down. As always, the conversation flooded naturally, and you were not thinking about anything displeasing - in this instant, you were truly happy. 

And Yunho was happy too. So when you proposed to play a card game, and that the winner could ask the loser a question about anything, he agreed, even if it was silly, it was okay because it was you. You asked him what his favourite colour was, why he wanted to become a teacher, what he would say to Oscar Wilde if he could talk to him. And he asked you which Austen novel was your favourite, why you wanted to study literature, what your biggest dream was. You were so immersed in your little game that the staff of the coffee shop had to ask you to leave because they were closing the place, and the sky was indeed darker as you got out to walk back to his car. 

He opened the door for you again, and as you watched him make his way to the driver seat, you couldn’t help asking yourself if that was really all he wanted from this afternoon. After all, even if you didn’t put a label on your relationship - if you could even call it that - you knew deep down that the main reason he was seeing you was sex. And if he didn’t plan on having sex with you now, does this mean that this meeting you didn’t dare call a date was only that ? But then, it took you down a rabbit hole of never ending questions that you didn’t want to dig into.

Sensing that your mood was a little down, Yunho didn’t dare to talk too much and disturb you, even if he didn’t understand why. You had a good time, you couldn’t stop smiling and you really seemed to enjoy hanging out with him. And the thought that you could be questioning yourself about your situationship made him a little nervous, though it shouldn’t because this was what it was - a situationship. And it didn’t matter if you made his heart beat faster everytime he saw you. And it didn’t matter if you made him feel alive for the first time in years. It didn’t matter because having more with you was simply impossible. When Yunho parked in front of your dorm, all the serotonin from this day had been washed away with the doubts filling him up.

“- Thank you for everything Yunho, I had a great time.”

But your smile seemed fake, it didn’t reach your eyes as it usually did. And Yunho felt his heart clench painfully. He didn’t want you to feel sad with him. Never. You were supposed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed yours. 

“- Are you really alright ? If I overstepped, tell me, please. I don’t want you to keep these things from me Y/N.”

You sighed as you turned your gaze away from him, but his hands on either side of your face forced you to look him in the eyes again. Why did he have to be so perfect all the time ? It would’ve made things so much easier if he didn’t care about you.

“- You did nothing wrong, I’m just thinking too much. 

- About what ?

- I just think we should be more careful if we start going out like that because someone could recognize us. And you could lose your job, or I could get kicked out. I’m probably just being paranoid but…”

That was not the problem, but you didn’t want to talk about the real reason you were feeling so melancholic. Because it would probably ruin everything, and you needed him too much for your own good, you needed him too much to risk losing him.

“- You’re not being crazy, okay ? I understand, and if you’re afraid we might meet someone we know, we can go somewhere else next time, anywhere you wanna go, i’ll take you. How does that sound ? 

- Good. It sounds good.

- Then we’ll be doing that.” 

You nodded, and even if you still felt a little bad, one look from him was enough to make you feel better, to make your worries all go away. So even if your heart was screaming for you not to, you let him kiss your forehead, and then your lips, so softly it made you weak in the knees. But it felt too good to ask him to stop. So you didn’t, and you just kissed him back until you were out of breath. 

“- I’m gonna go, I have to work on your assignment because fucking the teacher won’t get me a free pass, right ?

- That’s the spirit angel, I’m always expecting the best from you.

- Then I have to start now. Be careful on the road, Yu.”

He nodded and watched you get out of his car, not leaving until he saw you get inside the building of your dorm. And then only did he authorise himself to let out a sigh. Because you were too sweet to be true, because you gave him a little nickname that had him feeling much more things than he shouldn’t, because your scent was still lingering everywhere and it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy, to be honest. 

And it was bad, really bad. Yunho didn't mean for things to go this far, but he felt like he couldn’t stop now. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to stop now that he had a taste of you. However, it still felt incredibly wrong to go home to his girlfriend when he had spent the day with you and that he didn’t think about her only once. The smell of home cooked food hit him as soon as he stepped inside, and the weight on his shoulders even more heavy as he announced that he was home. 

“- You’re coming back late, baby ! But that’s okay, at least everything is ready for dinner, I made your favourite !”

Guiltiness was creeping up inside of him with every word she said, and everything sounded so fake when he served her his lie about having an important meeting with his colleagues. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t do anything for him to stop loving her. On the contrary, Hana was always sweet and caring, she was there for him and had been for years. But maybe it was the problem. Maybe it has been too long.  But Yunho perfectly knew the real reason, it was just too painful to admit it, and it would make things too real. 

For a while, he preferred to ignore the fact that you were making the flames come alive again in his heart. He preferred to ignore how much stronger his feelings for you were than for his girlfriend he was supposed to love and cherish and marry soon. But was it really a crime when everything she was doing, everything they were doing seemed faked, forced, done out of habit rather than because of true love and affection ? Yunho knew that he was already in too deep with you to stop, and the way Hana was not paying attention to what he was saying was making him feel a little less remorseful about the way he was only seeing your face when she was kissing him good night. 

Work and classes have been hectic for the both of you these past weeks, so Yunho’s proposal of a getaway trip to the beach this weekend felt like a bubble of oxygen. Sure, you had seen each other, but for never more than a quickie. Sure, you didn’t stop sending each other texts and photos to keep up with your days, but you wanted to hear him calling you angel again. And even if it was supposed to be only that, even if you shouldn’t want that, you still missed spending time with him, talking with him. So you held on to the promise of this little break with him to finally breathe and relax.

When you finally spotted his car parked a few streets away from your dorm, and his tall frame leaning against the drivers’ door, the wind blowing his perfectly styled hair, your heart started to beat faster. The rush you got everytime you laid your eyes on him never flattered. And you didn’t really think about it when you ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. You could hear him chuckling as he buried his face into your neck, holding you closer to him and spinning you around. Both of you needed this hug, and Yunho couldn’t ever get tired of your addicting scent, breathing you in for a moment before he cradled your face into his hands to kiss you like he had wanted to these past few days.

“- I missed you, angel. 

- We literally saw each other yesterday.

- But not like that.”

This comment was enough to make heat rise into your body again. But you simply slapped his chest playfully as he giggled like an idiot. But he didn’t mind your teasing, it was entertaining. Like the gentlemen he always was, Yunho opened the door of the car for you. Every time he drove you somewhere, you felt like a passenger princess - getting to choose the music, opening the windows whenever you wanted, holding his hand when he didn’t need it. The weather was starting to warm up a little, and you smiled as you felt the pleasant air hit your face, making your hair fly in every direction. 

And yes, Yunho felt a little guilty for cancelling plans he had with his girlfriend to take you to the beach, but he needed it. He needed to escape from his life and his routine for just one day, but more importantly, he needed you. He didn’t want to spend his weekend with her family, he wanted to spend it with you. And as he watched you run towards the water, squealing as the cold liquid touched your bare feets, he felt like it was worth it. Your long skirt was floating around you to the rhythm of the wind, and to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful than right now - with your hair all messy, and the brightest smile he’s ever seen on your face directed at him, asking him to come with you. 

There were only a few other people on the beach, allowing you to be as affectionate as you wished. The picnic both of you had prepared was spent between sweet kisses and mindless conversation. And then, Yunho laid down to rest his head on your lap while you read another book he had given to you. You mindlessly started to run your hands through his hair, smiling lightly when he released a satisfied sigh, relaxing even more. And Yunho swore he could’ve fallen asleep just like that - with the sun warming up his body and your presence warming up his heart. 

“- It’s been so long since I’ve last gone to the beach…”

Your self-reflection steered Yunho out of his slumber, looking up at you to find you entirely focused on the landscape in front of your eyes. Suddenly, your tone was a lot more nostalgic, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. Because yes, he knew your body like the back of his hands by now, and he knew what you were liken but he knew so little about your past, about you - the you he was starting to fall in love with. 

“- But you grew up close to the ocean, right ?

- Yeah. We used to go every weekend, it was always the best day of the week and I was so excited to go every time. But when my parents started to fight, we stopped going. Apparently, it reminded them of too many memories and they had no time to do that anymore. I tried to go alone once. I was maybe eight ? I don’t remember well, but I know that I got scolded so badly I’ve never tried it again, even as a teenager. And I kinda had an apprehension to go see the ocean again. 

- I didn’t know that. I’m sorry for proposing that, we can leave whenever you want if you don’t feel comfortable, angel.”

Your eyes finally came back to him, smiling softly at him as you pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, your touch making goosebumps come alive on his skin. 

“- It’s okay, I’m over all that now. And when I think back about it, these trips were never perfect. My parents were already fighting back then, I was just too young to understand what it meant. But today I’m here with you, so I knew it would be nothing like that. You make everything better, Yu.”

You leaned forward, pecking his lips for a second or two, but it was enough to make Yunho smile again. He had no idea your childhood could’ve been so chaotic, and from what you told him, he could easily imagine the classic scheme through which you went. And it made sense with the women you were today - strong, independent and determined. But he also learned that you needed him to baby you sometimes, and he was always willing to let you fall into his open arms every time you needed to. And the fact that you were slowly opening up more and more to him everyday felt like a reward. 

“- What was your childhood like ?

- Well, I have a pretty conservative and religious family, and I’ve always felt like I’ve never belonged with them. My parents love me, I know they do, but it’s like I don’t fit in with them, you know ? It’s a strange feeling, but I’ve always been the rebel one : I didn’t do the studies my parents wanted me to do, and I didn’t follow every one of their rules as I grew up, and I’ve never had the same faith as them. I think that’s what disturbed them the most. 

- The feeling of being a disappointment, and of going against the flow is never easy to deal with, especially as a kid. But look where you are now. They should be proud of you for doing a job you love. At least, I’m proud of you.”

This time, Yunho made the first move to kiss you. 

“You’re really an angel, too good to be true.

- I could say the same about you.” 

Because he simply had that aura that made you feel safe, that made you feel comfortable, that made you feel at home. Every time you looked into his eyes, it was as if nothing else existed, as if he was the only thing that was real. But you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to dwell on what it meant, didn’t want to think about the fact that this won’t last forever. Instead, you kept on talking, telling each other some childhood memories. And it all felt so peaceful, like you were all alone, like it was both of you against the rest of the world, like you were in a little bubble that could never burst. 

And Yunho really wished he could stay like that with you forever, but the sun was starting to go down and the wind was turning colder. You could’ve fallen asleep on the ride home, lulled by the way he was quietly humming to the songs of the playlist you choose. This day made you forget about everything else, made the stress go away, made all your worries disappear. But you knew it was not only because you got away, but mostly because Yunho was with you. He always had that effect on you, no matter how hard you tried to resist it. You didn’t want this day to end, you didn’t want this feeling to ever go away. So as he parked near your dorm, you kissed his lips one more time.

“- Do you want to come up ? My roommate is not here. 

- What about being careful, angel ? Anyone could recognize me here. 

- It’s Sunday, everyone is either locked up in their rooms working or spending the day out. No one will see you. Please ?”

The fact that you started to kiss down his neck as well as your pleading eyes were close to breaking Yunho’s resolve. He knew he shouldn’t let you have this much of an effect on him, but you had that effect and he couldn’t deny the way he weakly said “yes” and let you drag him to your dorm room. But the way you were giggling against his lips as you pushed him to sit down on your bed made him forget all about his doubts. As you dropped to your knees on the ground, settling between his legs, Yunho couldn’t help the shaky breath that escaped him. 

“- I think I have to pay you back for today, don’t I ?”

The smirk playing on your lips as you unbuckled his belt and helped him get out of his pants did nothing to calm his heartbeat down. And the way you were always so eager to take care of him, to have your mouth on him, did nothing to help either. But it felt too good, so he didn’t stop you and let you kiss his tip one time before you started to kitten-lick his cock. 

“- Fuck, don’t tease, angel. 

- But you look so pretty like that.”

Your pouty lips made him want to spoil you but also to be a little mean. But you were such a good girl for him, taking all of him in your mouth. Everytime you were getting down on your knees for him, Yunho couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline going through his veins.  He threw his head back when he felt your cheeks hollowing, sucking him in deeper. He wanted to stay like that forever, with you drooling around his cock, and his hands buried in your hair. But he needed to have his mouth on you too, to make you feel good. So he took advantage of your size difference to throw you on the bed with ease, pushing up your long skirt so he could dip his head under the material and lick a strip of your wet cunt through your panties. 

“- Yunho… Please, don’t tease.

- But you look so pretty like that.”

You smiled as you lightly slapped his shoulder, eliciting a few chuckles from him before he helped you get out of your underwear and finally got a taste of your cunt. You could only see the top of his head, but the way he was subtly nibbling on your clit had you closing your eyes to appreciate the moment even more. His tongue lapping at your cunt was sending you to places you’ve never been, and you couldn’t care less about the other people at the dorm who might hear you whining his name loudly. This day was so perfect, Yunho was so perfect. You couldn’t ask for more. Or you could, but you would be pushing your luck, and you didn’t want anything else if it meant you could be with him in some way. But you didn’t want to think about all that right now, so you pushed his head further in between your thighs. 

“- Don’t stop, please…”

Yunho groaned against your folds, doubling his efforts to bring you to the edge, practically making out with your pussy at this point. But you didn’t mind, not at all. You wanted him, wanted every little part of his body and soul to be yours. As you felt your orgasm approaching, you started to grind against his face, moaning at the way his nose was bumping against your clit every time you rocked your hips. And when you came with a cry of pleasure, Yunho made sure to hold your thighs open for him to eat you until he had gulped down the last drop of your juices. 

“- How do you taste better every time ? I’ll never get tired of it.

- Good. Because I don't want you to stop.” 

Both of you were still half clothed, but you didn’t mind it as Yunho came up to kiss your lips, his tongue finding yours easily and his hands grabbing your breast over your top like a second nature. Everything felt so familiar, so right, like you were where you should be. Your lips were sealed to his, from the moment he pulled out his condom to the moment his cock entered you, only separating for a brief instant when you moaned in harmony. 

And no words where needed as he made love to you. Because there was no other way to define how he was fucking you, to define the tenderness of his touch, the fondness of his gaze, the softness of his breath hitting your skin. Every sound he elicited from you was immediately drowned in his mouth, your hands tugging at the material of his shirt as you felt close to the edge again. You felt full of so many emotions you couldn’t even name them all, but you knew that Yunho was the only reason you were feeling all that. 

“- I’m close…

- Me too, angel…”

The words you’ve been meaning to say for some time almost slipped past your lips as you felt the rush of pleasure course through your body. And if Yunho hadn’t nuzzled his head into your neck, he would’ve probably been about to say them too. As you came down of your little paradise where nothing existed except for him, you realised how close you’ve been to fuck it all up. And you didn’t want that - you were going to take everything you could have from this relationship, and no matter the state you would end up in, it would be worth it because it was him. 

“- Hey ! Watch where you’re going Y/N !”

Dajeong kept you from walking straight into the door that opened just in front of your face. You sheepishly thanked her, and tried to not get lost in your thoughts again.

“- You seem absent since yesterday. Did something happen this weekend ?”

You knew exactly why you were so absorbed, you knew it. But you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t talk about it with her. It would mean putting Yunho in a dangerous situation, and yourself too. And what would she think of you ? You were always the first one to comment on how stupid all the girls crushing on your teacher were, and now you were the one who ended up in his bed every time he needed you.

“- It’s nothing, I just… Don’t know what to do about something and I’m thinking about it a little too much.”

Your eyes travelled from your friend by your side to Yunho’s silhouette. He was standing near the door of his office, having a lively conversation with a woman you’ve never seen before but you supposed that she was one of his colleagues. You had no right to be jealous. And you weren’t. Not really, at least. You were not jealous about seeing him with someone else, you were mentally prepared for that to happen. But you were jealous of how good she looked beside him, thinking about how ridiculous you must be whenever you were going out with him. Your age difference was visible, and everything felt much more right when he was with someone his age. But you quickly averted your gaze from them, not seeing the pained look on Yunho’s face as he turned his head your way. 

“- You wanna talk about it tonight ? 

- I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Dajeong smiled at you and grabbed you by your arm, trying to cheer you up a little. She didn’t like to see you down - you were always so energetic and joyful, it felt odd whenever you were like that. 

“- No matter what you decide, I’m here. And I’m keeping you home for a movie night anyway.

- I'd like that a lot. Thank you.

- I told you, I’m here for you.”

You thanked her again and tried not to think about Yunho for the rest of the day. You weren’t even mad at him, except the fact that you had no right feeling like that, it was mostly because you realised that you really couldn’t be with him for more than what you already were. And it hurt more than you think it would have, because even if you tried to stop yourself from daydreaming about a future with him, you still did, and you had started to believe that it could happen, that it could be true. But you had to be sensible and remind yourself that it was impossible, that even if there was the slightest chance that he loved you, he could never do it in the open, and you were not ready to stay a secret your whole life. But you still went to his office after your classes because he had asked you to. When you entered the room, Yunho was waiting for you, anxiously chewing on his nails. He gestured for you to close the door behind you and when you made sure it was locked, you took his hands in yours, confusion lingering in your eyes. 

“- What is it Yu ? Are you alright ?

- I should be the one asking you that.

- Why ?

- Because of what you saw this morning. It’s not what you think, I swear there’s nothing between us, she’s just another teacher I’m working with. I’m not doing any-

- Stop.”

And he did it, mouth closing shut as you tried to not let all the doubts and the melancholy that invaded you today be perceived in your voice or your touch. You stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips softly, hoping that it would calm him down a little. 

“- I didn’t think anything about it, okay ? I’m not mad, or sad, or anything else. And you can do absolutely what you want, you know, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything. I don’t have a word to say about your relationships.”

The words hurt you, but they hurt him too. He knew you weren’t his girlfriend, he made that clear enough so you understood that nothing like that could ever happen. But it still felt wrong to hear you say that, he still felt bad at seeing the slight discomfort in your eyes. However, you didn’t let him reflect on that too much as you let go of his hands. 

“- Don’t worry about that, okay ? I have to go, I have plans with Dajeong for tonight but text me if you need anything.

- Yeah, have a good night angel.”

You smiled at him before leaving and Yunho’s heart clenched when he saw you go out one more time. Every night you spent together, you had always left before him, and every time, he wished you could stay a little more. And every time, he prayed that it would not be the last time he was going to see you. Even if everything about this was wrong, he didn’t want it to end, and for once, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to think about himself, to put his happiness first and not everyone else’s opinions. 

That’s why when you told him you had a really bad day, a few weeks after this incident, he decided to think about what made him happier lately and put you first. So he picked you up after class, without telling you where you were going, but it had become a habit of his to never reveal the destination of your little adventures. The ride was silent, the music being the only sound disturbing the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as Yunho parked on the hill that overlooked the whole city so you could see the sunset, you bursted into tears. Yunho pulled you into his lap, running his hands through your hair to calm you down, and encouraging you to talk to him. 

“- Tell me what’s going on, angel. 

- I’m just… Everything I do, it’s never enough. There’s always someone who’s doing it better, there’s always someone to remind me that I’m enough. I’m never enough, for anything or anyone.”

Seeing you like that broke his heart, but Yunho didn’t let his own emotions overpower him. He cradled your face in his hands, whipping your tears away tenderly. 

“- You are enough Y/N, you’ve always been enough and the way you’re feeling right now does not reflect what you really are. You’re doing so much all the time, and for everyone. I promise you are enough, angel. And I’m proud of the person you are, I’m proud of you.”

You nuzzled your head in his chest, a little more serene than five minutes before, his scent soothing your heart and your mind, and his touch so soft and delicate you could’ve fallen asleep in his arms. You stayed like that for a moment, not needing to say anything else as his presence was enough to get you to relax, and you couldn’t say if you spent ten minutes or an hour like that, but you felt so peaceful you didn’t want to move. Whenever you were with him, it was like a little bubble engulfed the two of you, and that nothing else existed beside him and everything he was making you feel. 

“-  Thank you, Yu.”

And you pecked his lips to reinforce that idea. And Yunho pushed away a strand of your hair before he kissed you too, deepening it when you whimpered against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him closer to you. And you stayed there, simply making out and quietly talking about nothing and everything. But it was enough to calm you down. And it was enough for Yunho to be sure about what he wanted to do. But not now. Not when you were so vulnerable he felt like you could break in his arms. 

“- Can you take me home ? I’m tired.

- Of course, angel. I just need to stop by the gas station.”

You nodded and kissed him one last time before getting back in your seat. Your mood was much better on the way back, casually chatting with Yunho as he drove you home with his hand comfortably resting on your thigh. You mindlessly played with his fingers, not really paying attention to the road. You only registered the notifications noises from his phone when he was out and paying for his gas. You glanced at his illuminated screen, not really wanting to know who was texting him but just out of habit, and the nickname of the person texting him was all you needed to know. “My girl 💕” was enough to understand that you weren’t the only one, that he wasn’t as invested in this relationship as you. You were aware of all these things, but to be hit by the realisation, to be faced with the truth was harsh. When he sat back down in his seat, you had to brace yourself so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes, so the words you were about to scream at his face wouldn’t slip out from your mouth. 

“- Are you alright, angel ?

-  Hum, yeah, I just wanna go home and sleep. Don't worry.”

You offered him a little smile and he caressed your cheek, but you had to mentally restrain yourself from pushing his hand away. You let him drive you home, forcing yourself to smile and seem normal and composed. Only when you were snuggled underneath your blankets did you allow yourself to let the tears fall freely from your eyes. You were expecting this to stop at some point, but not like that. You were trusting him, you thought he was telling you the truth, you thought that what would separate you would only be the fact that it was impossible, but not that. 

It was so unlike him, always so kind and gentle, always thinking about you and your comfort first. That was surely why you never thought he would do something like that. But after all, you should've seen it coming. This was truly too good to be true, too perfect to last. But you would've wanted it to last for a little longer, for forever. And coming back to reality was hard, it was like waking up from a dream to realise you were only living in a nightmare all this time. That night, you fell asleep with his scent still lingering on your clothes, and dried tears covering your cheeks. 

The next morning, you weren’t doing any better, if not worse. The truth was sinking in, and you were not strong enough to answer his texts yet, leaving him on read and purposely ignoring his demand to see you today. You got up from your bed either way, only because you needed to eat to compensate for your empty heart, and that what Dajeong must have cooked smelled really good. 

“- Wow ! You look like a zombie. A cute zombie, but still a zombie.”

You smiled a little, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You sat down on the stool of the kitchen, watching your roommate finishing up your meal, mind clouded with thoughts of him even if he was the last thing you wanted to think about. 

“- On a serious note, are you alright ?”

The casual question made you tear up again, and you had to take a deep breath so you would not cry again. Dajeong turned off the stove and came to sit down beside you, one hand resting on your shoulder as she encouraged you to talk to her. And you did. You told her everything about what had been going on between Yunho and you for months. It felt like it all started yesterday, like it was only a dream. But with the way it was about to end, you rather have not started this at all. 

“- I would’ve never thought that you would be the type to go out with our teacher. 

- I know. There’s just something about him that I can’t get enough of. I… I think I love him.”

It was the first time you dared to say the words. But it was true. You loved him even if you tried to resist it, even if you tried not to succumb to the temptation he was. But you gave in, and you were happy for as long as it lasted. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt that much. You underestimated how important he became, how much you relied on him for everything. 

“- And it’s not even the fact that he has a girlfriend or someone else that makes me mad, I was okay with that because I had come to terms with the fact that I will never be more than what we were. But he treated me like I was more, he made me think that he cared about me just to pull out something like that. And I had to find out, he didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. 

-  He’s a coward, I must admit. And he clearly doesn’t deserve you. He could have never loved you like you need to be loved, you’ll always be a secret with him. It’s better like that. 

- Maybe. But it hurts.”

Some tears escaped your eyes again, and Dajeong didn’t hesitate before pulling you into a tight hug, caressing your head as a way to calm you down. She knew how much a heartbreak could hurt, especially when it ended up like that, especially when it was as intense as what you had. 

“- I know, lovely. It’s gonna take time, but it’s gonna stop hurting eventually. But I think you should talk with him, ask him clearly what’s going on before completely cutting him out of your life. You need closure, you at least deserve that.”

You nodded as Dajeong proposed that you spent the day together, doing some skincare and talking again and again about the same people for the hundredth time while watching some silly movies to cheer you up. And you did exactly that, trying to not think about him for at least one day. You were anxious to go back to class on Monday, fearing that everything would be awkward, or that he would completely ignore you. Somehow, you found the courage to send him a text throughout the weekend, simply to tell him that you needed some space, some time to think about you and him. You didn’t see the point of lying to him, and you silenced his notifications just after. You were strong enough to answer him, but not to witness him pretend and care about you.

Your resolve started to crumble when you saw how miserable he looked the next few days in class. His eye bags were terrible, and he seemed to have lost all his energy. Usually, Yunho would animate all his classes and passionately teach you his subject, but lately, he was only giving you some group work to do, keeping his interventions to a minimum. He spent his time sitting at his desk, either trying to grade some papers or zoning out, looking through the windows. Everytime his sad eyes fell into yours, your heart clenched and ached. But you didn’t have the strength to confront him about what you saw on his phone. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted him to deny, to tell you it was not what you were thinking and that you were the only one - even if you knew it was impossible and that dreaming about it made everything hurt ten times more badly. 

You missed him. You missed hearing his voice, his laugh. You missed his smile, and the dimple he had when you made a terrible joke he couldn’t help giggling at. You missed his touch, the way every time his skin was against yours everything else disappeared. You missed being in his arms, and the sentiment of security it gave you. You simply missed him, and having to see him everyday without being able to look at him for more than a few seconds was a torture. And even if you had unblocked him because you were weak, you continued to ignore every one of his texts and calls either way. It was painful, but a lot less than if he told you face to face that he had someone else, that he lied to you, that he made you fall head over heels for you before fucking it all up, before crushing your heart in between his fingers. 

One day, when you came back to your dorm, you found flowers waiting for you by the door. There was no card with it, but Yunho was the only one who knew that lilies were your favourite flowers. And you cried again when you opened the trash can only to find yourself unable to throw the bouquet away. So you kept it, putting it in a vase and placing it on the kitchen’s counter, seeing him every time you looked at the flowers. 

Another day, when you handed him back an assignment and that your hand brushed against his, it was like time stopped for a moment. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as you looked up at him, and the plethora of emotions you caught dancing in Yunho’s eyes was enough to bring you back to when he was calling you angel, to when he was treating you like the most beautiful girl in the world. You ran away as quickly as possible, because you were on the verge of telling him that you loved him, and that it would only make things even more complicated than they already were. You felt so stupid for falling for your teacher, but you felt even more ridiculous for believing that you could be more than a side piece to him. 

However, that didn’t stop you from looking at the texts he sent to you, asking you to come meet him in his office because he wanted to explain everything properly. You heard Dajeong words ringing in your head as you took a deep breath and entered the room you had grown familiar with. His scent surrounded you immediately, and Yunho jumped upon your arrival. His glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his hair were completely dishevelled. You still managed to be smitten by his ethereal beauty. But the way he was looking at you with such desperation forced you to avoid his gaze quickly. 

“- Y/N…”

His voice broke down, and your heart broke too, a little more every time he tried to start a sentence. Yunho wanted to forget everything, to hold you in his arms and promise you the world. But he couldn’t, and the way you were hugging yourself made him want to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. In all honesty, he would do it in the blink of an eye if you asked him, he would do anything if it meant you would forgive him. But it was nearly impossible, and he was well aware of that, but you deserved an explanation - that and so much more. 

“- What did you want to tell me ?”

Your tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, and you didn’t dare look his way, and Yunho didn’t dare make a step in your direction, afraid that you would run away again. But he had to tell you the truth, he had to be honest for once. 

“- It’s not what you think, angel.

- Please, spare me with that, I’m not blind, nor an idiot.

- No, you’re not… And that’s why you deserve to know what is going on. The message you saw the other night was from… My girlfriend.”

You knew it, but to hear him say it was different. It hit exactly the right spot to reopen some wounds that had never healed. You already felt on the verge of tears, but you tried to keep them under control, gripping the handles of your tote bag to ground yourself in reality and brace yourself for what was coming. 

“- But I don’t love her anymore, it's been a long time since I’ve stopped feeling anything for her. We met when we were in highschool, and we were a good match at that time. She was my friend before becoming more, but after all this time, there's nothing left of what I felt for her in the beginning. We were only kids, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life and my family had already planned my future with her. They want me to marry her. But I don’t, not at all. But if I leave her, I know that they will never want to see me again. So I stayed with her but you made me realise what it was to live and be happy again, and that I don’t want to marry someone I don't genuinely love.”

While he was talking, Yunho took some steps in your direction, trying to maintain eye contact with you even if all he wanted was to slap himself in the face for how stupid he had been to think he could handle this the way he did it, to think that you would never discover his secret. At least, you were here. At least, you were listening to him. It should mean something. It should mean that everything wasn’t over yet, right ? Yunho held on to that, but when he tried to reach for your hand and you took a step back, your eyes glistening with tears, it was hard to believe that everything could be alright. And to know that he was the reason you were crying made him feel even more guilty.

“- I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, angel. I wanted to do it a million times, but I was so afraid of losing what we had, I didn’t want to freak you out. And I couldn’t lose you. You are my oxygen, my breath of fresh air in the middle of all this mess, and I need you. I promise I wanted to tell you everything the night you discovered it. But you became so quiet all of sudden, and when I looked at my phone, I assumed you had seen her text. But I swear on my life, I wanted to tell you. I should’ve never lied to you in the first place, I know that, and you can’t imagine how sorry I am.”

You were now sobbing uncontrollably, trying to cover up your voice with your hand, but the hot tears falling down your cheeks were enough proof of how affected you were. Yunho wanted to cradle you in his arms, to protect you from the world like he always did, but he couldn’t shield you from himself and his mistakes. He was supposed to be your safe place, your comfort zone, not to make you feel like that.

“- Do you understand how bad I felt when I saw this message, Yunho ? I… I knew this wouldn’t last, but to realise that you lied to me all this time was even more painful. You made me believe that we had a future together, and you treated me like your girlfriend even when I was not, even when you had someone waiting for you at home. And it hurts.”

Your voice broke down on the last words. You felt pathetic, some kind of silly, naive girl who couldn’t see what was right in front of her eyes, some kind of idiot who thought that it could end well, that it could end without you suffering too much. 

“- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising if that’s what you want. We can have a future together, I want a future with you.

- I can’t see it. I-I can’t ask you to leave her, and to turn your back on your whole family for me. ”

One tear rolled down Yunho’s cheek, and you wanted to wipe it away, but he did it himself before you could do anything. It was better like that. If you felt his skin against yours again, you didn’t know if you would be able to finish what you started. 

“- I could do it. If it’s what it takes to keep you with me I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I love you so bad it makes my heart ache. I’m ready to do everything it takes to be with you. Everything.”

You should’ve been happy to hear these words you were longing for him to say, only weeks prior. But right now, it only broke your heart more, it only pushed the knife a little deeper into your open wounds. 

“- That’s not what I want for you, you deserve better. I don’t want to fuck up your whole life, even if it meant I could love you.

- But you are my whole life, you’re the only thing I need.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to say yes so bad. You wanted to fall back into his touch, to fall back into his arms. But you couldn’t. Still, you let him caress your cheek, swiping his thumb against it to get rid of the tears that had dropped there. It was like you could finally breathe, as if the weight on your heart and the knot in your throat had disappeared only because he touched you. He always had that effect on you. But you had to leave, you had to leave or you would cave in and you knew it wasn’t good for you. So you took his hand in yours, pushing it away slowly, as if not to scare him away. You looked up into his teary, brown eyes. It broke your heart to see him in such a state, but you had to think about yourself too. You had to take care of yourself now that he wasn’t here to do that anymore. 

“- I’m sorry, I need some time to think. I’m… Not sure I can love you like this anymore. I’m sorry.”

He tried to smile at you, but it was joyless, without this little sparkle in his eyes that you loved so much. 

“- You don’t have to apologise, angel. You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the only one to blame here. Take all the time you need, I’ll wait for you.”

You nodded, and you finally let go of his hand, painfully slow to feel his touch for as long as possible. You took a last look at him before turning away and unlocking the door of his office. 

“- Goodbye, Yunho.”

It felt like you were saying farewell, and Yunho wanted to run after you, to beg you to let him still be a part of your life. But he had to respect your choice. So he stayed still, standing there as if it could freeze time in place and give him the ability to come back in time and do things differently. But it was too late, and the only thing he could do was give you space and hope you would grant him a second chance, and hope you would be kind enough to forgive him even if he didn’t deserve it at all. 

You thought that clearing up the situation with Yunho would make it easier for you to move on and forget him as you had initially planned, but you clearly were in the wrong. Feeling his eyes on you was even more painful now. But at least, he seemed to have found his energy back. It was the only thing that made you feel a little better. Because you felt like shit, even if you tried to convince yourself that what you did was for the best, that you couldn’t be together, that you had to be sensible, you didn’t want to do all that. You craved his touch, his kisses, his loving gaze. You craved him and his soothing aura. You craved his love. You wanted him back, but everything was so complicated, everything was so messed up, you weren’t even sure it could work. 

Even if Yunho respected your wish for space and time, he still hadn’t stopped texting you throughout your days - reminders for you to drink, eat and rest properly. You never answered but you saw the messages and it was all that mattered to him. And even if he tried to come back to his daily life, to his routine, he couldn’t. You had taken such an important place in his heart that everything felt empty without you and your smile to brighten his world. Nothing felt as appealing as before. Reading couldn’t take his mind out of things anymore, because he could only see your annotations on the ones you had given to him. And everytime he passed by Mrs McMillan bookstore, his thoughts immediately came back to you and how pretty you looked that day. 

So when some colleagues from the university invited him to have some drinks after work, he said yes. Yunho hoped that some alcohol and talking about anything and everything could take his mind off of you. But all it did was make it worse. With each drink, he felt the urge to call you even stronger. All he wanted was to at least hear your voice, hear his name fall from your lips, see your face, even if the pain he caused was written all over it. 

“- Angel…

- Yunho ? Why are you calling me ? Is there something wrong.”

He sighed in relief at finally hearing your voice ringing in his ears again, at finally hearing you say his name. He preferred the surname you had granted him, but he would take everything that you were willing to give him. 

“- I just… I miss you, and I need you, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you again. Because I feel like I didn’t apologise enough.

- It’s okay, I swear. I told you I need some time. Everything is…. Puzzling.

- Still, I’m sorry. 

- I know you are.”

There was silence, but the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet made a little bit of hope blossom in his heart. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe there was still a world in which you could grant him your forgiveness. 

“- I can’t imagine my life without you. I tried. But I can’t. I need you, angel.

- You know that we can’t, that I can’t. You have a girlfriend, and your family, a career. I can’t just come in and mess up everything.

- I don’t care about all of that. If I’m with you it’s worth it. Please, angel, let me at least see you, even if it’s the last time I get to have you. I want you, one last time. After that, I’ll let you go if that’s what you really want, and I promise you will never have to worry about me again.”

You stayed silent for a while again, your defeated sigh being the only noise echoing through the line.

“- Okay. But this is the last time.”

However, when you joined him in the hotel room you had grown familiar with, you didn’t want it to be the last time. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. You didn’t talk, afraid of the things you could say, afraid you would beg him to stay, to come back, to do exactly what he swore he would do if only you asked him. But you tried not to think about that as you let him kiss you tenderly, as if you were going to break under his touch. And you might, because you needed him so bad it made everything hurt when he was not there.

No words were exchanged as you got rid of your clothes. No words were exchanged when you pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his thighs. No words were needed when you kissed him for the first time in weeks. It felt like you could both finally breathe, like you felt alive again, and it made all the pain go away for just a moment. 

“- I missed you, angel, missed you so fucking much…

- Me too, Yu.”

This was all you were able to say before he shut you up with another desperate kiss, making out with you as if it was the last time he got to have your lips on his - and maybe it would be. So you just decided to shut off your brain, simply running your hands through his hair and thinking about nothing else. You wanted to take your time and appreciate his touch, his eyes and the way he was moaning under your hands, but it felt like you were in a hurry, quickly discarding both of your underwear and sinking down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you let yourself bask into the feeling of finally being full. But your desire took over you, grinding on his dick desperately.

And Yunho couldn’t look at your face, couldn’t see your beautiful eyes without thinking back to them filling up with tears the day he messed up everything between the two of you. But his body was overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him after weeks of only being able to look at you from afar, relying on his souvenirs to remember what it felt like to kiss you. He desperately wanted to engrave your face in his memories and keep it there forever, but it was too hard. So instead, he just flipped you over the bed, burying his head in your neck to not be tempted to cross your gaze anymore. But his hands still found their way to yours, fingers intertwining as he sped up the pace of his thrusts, both of you moaning in harmony. 

It wasn’t as intimate or as emotional as Yunho wanted your last time together to be like. But the alcohol was clouding his mind even more than everything he felt for you, and the urge to make you his - even if you weren’t, and that you would never be - was taking over him more and more with every clench of your cunt around him. 

“- Fuck, angel… Tell me you love me please…”

You didn’t want to, because you knew how that would make both of you feel, but the words spilled out from your lips before you could stop it, squeezing his hands tighter. 

“- I love you, I love you so much…”

It was enough for Yunho to feel a rush of emotions and desire flood through his veins, his thrusts becoming sloppy and losing any kind of rhythm. It all felt too much, from the way he was hitting your sweet spot to the way his little whines mixed with “i love you”’s that made your heart throb and your mind wanting to hear more of them. It all felt too much to the point you felt on the verge of tears as he laid on top of you, trying to regain some consciousness. But you were fully aware of everything that had just happened, and even if you wanted nothing more than to spend another night in his arms, you knew it wouldn’t do you any good. So you stayed like that until he fell asleep, murmuring again and again against your skin how much you meant to him, that he needed you. And then you ran away, putting your clothes back on in a hurry and checking out your appearance in the mirror of the elevator you had grown familiar with. Except that this time, there was nothing left from the joyful sparkle that usually brightened your eyes whenever you left the hotel. All you could see was how miserable he made you once again, all you could see were the tears cascading down your cheeks and along the marks he left on your neck. You slapped your hand on your mouth, pathetically trying to cover up your sobs. It hurt even more than that day, for some reasons. It all hurt too much to hold it in. 

When Yunho woke up in the morning to an empty bed, he was not surprised, but he was still disappointed. He wished he could have woken up one last time to your pretty and relaxed face, he wished he could have held you through the night one last time. Even if it happened only a few times, when you were too tired to go back to your dorms, it still felt incredibly right to open his eyes and see you all cuddled up against him. Getting up and leaving the room he had so many memories in revealed to be a lot more difficult than he thought it would have been. He took his time getting dressed and making sure he didn’t forget anything before slowly closing the door behind him. Taking a quick look at his reflection in the elevator’s mirror like you did only a few hours ago was enough to notice how wretched he was. His hair were a mess, his eye bags were even worse than a few days before despite him having overslept, and his clothes were wrinkled. But the way it was written all over his face was even more telling. 

The ride back to his apartment was like a walk of shame - because he had promised to his girlfriend that he would be back before 2am, because he made you suffer again, because he felt like shit, like there was no escape from this situation he put himself in. Yunho only had time to hope that Hana was still asleep but as soon as he opened the door, she jumped from her spot on the couch where she had apparently spent a lot of time worrying, seeing how panicked she seemed. 

“- Where were you !? You told me you would be back last night and it’s fucking 10am, Yunho !”

Her anger was totally justified, but the only thing he wanted to do right now was to just be swallowed by the floor, or to curl up in his bed and not get up for the next three years. 

“- I’m sorry, baby, I…

- You what !? It’s the fourth time you’re pulling something like that on me this month, what is going on !?”

Yunho was ready to serve her another well prepared lie, the ones he kept on telling her since he started ditching her to be with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say that they all got back to one of his coworkers apartment to keep drinking after the bar closed, and that his phone died so he couldn’t warn her about it, and that he was too drunk and out of his mind to think about borrowing one of his colleagues’. He couldn’t lie to her right now, he couldn’t anymore. And as if it was now a habit every time you sneaked into his mind, he felt tears prickling his eyes, dropping his head low like the coward he was because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, to see her crying because of him too. And as it had become quite usual for him through the course of these last weeks, apologies slipped past his lips. 

“- I’m sorry Hana, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… 

- Yunho… Tell me what happened, talk to me. You’ve been so distant and quiet lately, it’s not like you to be so… So absent.”

He wanted to answer, to finally tell her the truth, to tell her everything, but he couldn’t get any word to leave his mouth, only quiet sobs resonating in the hallway as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. Slowly, Hana got closer to him, taking his hands in hers and guiding him to the couch where he sat down without any resistance and let her pull him into a hug. She could hear his voice shaking and breaking down everytime he let out another apology. It took a long moment for Yunho to finally be able to calm down and find his words back. And when he did, it didn’t make things easier, it didn’t make telling her easier. 

“- I… I met someone.”

The sad but knowing smile spreading on her lips told him everything he needed to know. Because, of course, she was not dumb. Of course, she had understood a long time ago what was going on. Of course, Yunho was the only asshole, the only one to blame for everything he put her, and you, through. 

“- I expected you to say that. 

- I’m so fucking sorry, Hana. I never meant for that to happen, I hadn’t even thought about doing that before I met her. And once it started I couldn’t stop, and when I wanted to tell you everything, it was already too late to not hurt you, and I just got carried away. I’m sorry, I really didn-

- Stop ! Just… Stop.”

So Yunho did, anxiously watching her as she ran a hand through her hair, probably trying to come up with an easy way to tell him that he was a bastard. Which he was, to be honest. 

“- I’m not an idiot. I know that you stopped loving me years ago, Yunho. And I’m not blind either, I saw how you got that sparkle in your eyes back one day, and I knew very well it was not because of me. And before you say anything about being sorry, I know it. I know you are, and I know that you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me even if I’m just a friend in your eyes. 

- Hana…

- Don’t look at me like that, it’s not a big deal. We’ve been a couple since highschool, it was impossible for us to keep on loving each other until the end of times. I stopped feeling any romantic feelings a while ago, too. Our families are simply what they are, and we can’t change them. But I’m kind of glad you gave us a valid excuse to break up.”

Yunho couldn’t help the giggles that escaped him. She always had that dark humour that he loved so much, and that nobody got except for him and her. 

“- You did not just forgive me for cheating on you because you wanna break up, right ?

- Oh, I certainly did !”

Both of them laughed it off, and it was like a weight was lifted off of his chest, like he could finally breathe a little better. Not as well as when he was with you, but it was a little less bad, now. 

“- You’re sure you wanna do this ? You know how much trouble we’re gonna get into if we break up, right ?

- I know, and trust me when I tell you that I’ve thought about it a lot before. And I’m ready, I don’t want them to dictate my life anymore. I think you can understand that better than everyone else.

- Yeah.”

Silence fell back onto the room, and Yunho never felt more at home in his own apartment than after having agreed to break up with his years-long relationship. But he knew it was better like that, knew that they both needed to finally close this chapter of their life and take a new beginning. 

“- We’re still friends, though, right ? I still need to hear you spill all the tea about your weird coworkers.”

Hana laughed loudly, and the smile spreading on her lips had never been this wide since so much time that he almost forgot what she looked like when she was happy. 

“- Of course ! And I wanna know all the updates about that girl, because she must be brave to want to engage in a relationship with you.”

It was his turn to smile and let happiness fill him again. Why he waited so much time to finally be honest with her when it was clear that they had no feelings for each other anymore would certainly forever be an enigma. But at least, they were both free. At least, Hana could find someone that will truly love her, that will love her like she deserved to be loved. And Yunho didn’t know if that would be enough to convince you that he was serious about you, that he truly loved you, but he had to try. Because you were worth every tear he shed, and all the pain in the world. He would go through these weeks of anguish again and again if it meant you would take him back. 

But Yunho had always been a gentleman - and yeah, it was ironic to describe himself like that after everything he had done - and he let you have as much time as you needed, as much space as you asked for. And even when the urge of letting you know about everything that happened was strong, he resisted the temptation to call you, or to send you a text he knew you would not read because you stopped doing that since that night. 

Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, it was as if the first time he kissed you in that empty classroom replayed in his mind, it was as if he could still see himself wearing his leather jacket more often only because it still smelled like you and your perfume, it was as if he could still hear you say you loved him for the first time. Everytime his gaze crossed yours in class, he wished you wouldn’t shy away, he wished you wouldn’t look so hurt, he wished he could go back in time and not do all the mistakes he did, he wished he could do everything right and make you happy, and love you right. 

Still, he let you run away after every class so you wouldn’t risk staying in his presence too much. Still, he let you slip through his hands a little more every time you answered his questions about books he had given to you without that energy and passion you had when it was only the two of you in that hotel room, when everything was still perfect. But it also felt like if he didn’t do something right now, you were gonna leave and never come back in his life. He had to do something, he had to stop being a loser, he had to show you that you were never the second choice. 

You were surprised to find another bouquet of lilies on your doorstep before going to class on a random Wednesday. It had been weeks since you last talked to him outside of classes, and it had been more than two months since you last looked at his texts. You weren’t strong enough to block his number again, but you tried not to open the messages anymore. This time there was something written on a little note ; him asking you to meet him by the hill he showed you the night it all went down if you were willing to listen to him, and that if you didn’t come, he would understand that you didn’t want to see him again and that he would leave you alone, no questions asked. 

You thought that you would hesitate more, but in your heart, you had already made the decision to go as soon as you saw the bouquet of your favourite flowers he managed to remember even months after you told him. When you parked your car at the spot he had showed you, his was already there. Yunho was waiting for you, contemplating the cityscape, leaning against the hood of his car, hands in the pockets of his black pants, his white tee moving along with the wind. He looked good in anything, but these simple outfits were always making him look so cosy that you wanted nothing more than snuggling in his arms. 

The warmer wind of the end of spring hit your face as soon as you put your feet outside, the breeze making your hair and the skirt of your flowy dress fly around like you were in some type of dramatic movie. Expect that in those, it always ended well, and that you knew for a fact that your happy end was impossible. But Yunho turned to look at you almost in slow motion, and this time, you couldn’t avoid his intense stare, and this time, you wanted to dive back into whatever the two of you had. 

“- You came.”

His voice was steady, but you could still hear the relief seeping through his words.

“- You asked.”

It was as simple as that, as simple as breathing and walking, as simple as reading and writing. He asked, he called, and you were there in a heartbeat because you would sell your soul for him. 

“- We broke up. We agreed that we didn’t love each other anymore for a long time, and that it was the best decision for both of us.”

You wanted to be sarcastic, wanted to tell him something along the lines of “you want a medal or something”, but it was only because you didn’t know how to deal with that information. Because you didn’t know if it meant anything to him, if it meant anything to you. Before you could think about a kinder response, Yunho continued. 

“- I told you I was willing to do everything if it meant I could be with you, and I was serious. This is the first step, and I’m gonna go all the way even if you’re not willing to give me a second chance because you made me realise how wrong I was all this time.

- But you have a family, friends and a job. You won’t give all that up for me, I don’t want you to. 

- Angel, I’m taking all these risks because it’s for you, because I want you to see that I’m ready to do anything it takes to be with you, and that I’ll keep proving that you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me if you’re letting me come back into your life. My family gave up on me a long while ago, it’s only time for them to understand everything they put me through. And I believe that my friends will be wise enough to choose to support me, because you’re my happiness, and that’s what they should wish for me. 

- Yes, but you’ll still be my teacher. 

- I’ve been your teacher until then and it didn’t cause any problems, did it ? And even if I got in trouble, I know we would figure something out. You mean everything to me Y/N, and I will spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of you if you let me because I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else before.”

Your mind wanted you to say no, but your heart was begging for you to say yes, to give in, to let yourself be happy. And for once, you decided to stop being reasonable. For once, you decided to let things go, to let him guide you through it, to let yourself live.

“- You already are. You’ve always been worthy of me, Yu. I-I love you too, I love you so much.”

This time, when tears started to run down your cheeks, Yunho didn’t hesitate one second before pulling you into his arms, running his fingers against your back to soothe you. The way you immediately circled his waist to have him closer to you made his heartbeat pick up, and you chuckled lightly against his chest when you noticed it. And you stayed like that for who knows how long. The only thing you were aware of was that you’ve never felt as good as when you were in his arms. And maybe it was wrong, maybe it was a mistake. But it felt just right, it clicked perfectly, like the last pieces of a puzzle you had forgotten on your desk for years and that you finally came back to complete only now. When you raised your head to look him in the eyes, Yunho smiled, and you couldn’t help doing the same, especially when he kissed your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. 

“- In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

You wanted to slap him for being so cheesy, but the way your heart missed a couple of beats at the intensity with which he was looking into your eyes rendered you unable to talk, unable to think about some quote to say back to him. 

“- If you keep on confessing to me like that, I might give in, you know…

- Don’t worry about that, angel, I have a ton of citations you’re gonna love.”

His boyish grin made you smile wider, and you couldn’t help the urge to kiss him again, because now you had the right to do so. Being the teacher’s pet had its downsides, but in terms of love confessions, you were certain that Yunho would never run out of ideas. And you were okay with that, because as long as he was with you and that you were with him, there was no way something would go wrong. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you, and as the sun set behind you like in the romance movies you despised, you thought that maybe, happy endings were not so bad in the end, especially when you were the one getting kissed passionately at the end of the film.

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my work.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

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[b0r3dtod3ath]

Can you please write enemies to lovers with Oscar where him and reader accidentally get locked up in a room? And somehow they end up confessing their true feelings for each other

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none

♡ a/n: thanks for the request! i had a different idea at first but i'm happy with how it turned out.

You and Oscar have been enemies for 3 years now. You two got into a fight and then never talked to each other again.  

“Lando Norris! Let us the fuck out!” you yelled, knocking on the door as soon as he locked it. Lando knew there was something unresolved between you two and he made it his mission to help you get together. “Fix it!” was the only answer you got.

You felt the anger rushing through your body. You two had been best friends before but now Oscar was just someone who didn't care about you. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, looking down, not wanting to make eye contact with you. He felt guilty for what he did. He could hear the anger in your voice as you yelled for Lando. Oscar couldn't blame you, you had your reasons. 

After you heard Lando walk off, you sat at the floor, leaning against the wall. Defeated. You didn’t look at Oscar, you acted like he wasn’t there - a few meters from you. You glanced and saw him sit next to you, leaving some space in between. The two of you were silent for a few minutes as memories of his ex-girlfriend and the fight that led to the end of their friendship flooded your minds again.

He slowly looked up at you, still feeling a bit scared of seeing your face, but he finally gathered the courage to meet your eyes. “What changed?" He whispered, almost pleading. He wanted to know what he did wrong, what made you hate him so much. “The way you treated me” you replied in a cold tone. Oscar could feel a lump forming in his throat. He knew exactly what you were talking about and it made him even more guilty. "But... But I-I was just-" He stumbled over his words, desperately trying to justify himself but he knew he couldn’t.

He took a deep breath. "I was young, I was stupid. I thought she was the one, I thought you were just holding me back..."

“Listen, you know, I didn't like her but I never said anything. You were happy, I wasn't complaining. I never said anything about her or against her" you said, glancing at him but quickly returning your gaze to the wall in front of you. 

Meanwhile, Oscar could remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a few months into his relationship with his girlfriend, and things were going well, or at least he thought so. Until one day she said "Oscar, you need to stop talking to her. She's holding you back, she's bad for you”. The words that he couldn’t believe but repeated in his mind a thousand of times. After a conversation with his girlfriend, Oscar was conflicted. He was torn between his loyalty to you and his desire to please his girlfriend.

Finally, after days of going back and forth, he decided to listen to her. One day, he found you alone. "Hey... Can we talk?" he looked nervous, unable to look you in the eye. “Yeah, of course. What's up? You don't look good". Oscar tried to remain calm “It's just that... I need to focus on my career right now. And you're distracting me. I can't keep doing this” he said, feeling like a jerk even as the words were leaving his mouth. He kept avoiding your gaze. "Oscar, What the hell are you talking about? We have known each other since we were fourteen.” you reminded him, not believing what you were hearing. "I know, but... things have changed now. I need to set some priorities”. 

He never told you his girlfriend stood behind this. He was too ashamed of himself, too guilty. You weren’t stupid - you quickly figured out what was going on. By the time the couple broke up, you and Oscar silently became enemies - avoiding each other at all times. 

Oscar could still remember the pain on your face when he ended your friendship, and the pain he felt himself. He glanced at you sitting next to him, wondering if you truly hated him now. He could see you with an empty look on your face, silent tears rolling down your cheeks, as you stared at the ground. He felt like a douchebag for causing you so much pain. He wished he could take it all back, erase the last three years. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” you heard his quiet voice next to you. He shamelessly stared at you, waiting for a reaction. For anything. "Please... Say something. Yell at me, hit me, whatever. Just say something”. You sadly chuckled at his words “I wouldn’t hit you”. Oscar couldn't help but crack a small smile at your response.

"Remember that one time you hit a boy? When was it? In high school?" you said trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, I remember that. It was in senior year. Some guy was being really persistent with you, and I couldn't stand it anymore”. A boy had been relentlessly flirting with you, despite you clearly being uncomfortable. And Oscar, being the protective friend he was, had lost it. “His name was Jake,” you said. "Right, Jake." Oscar recalled the memory. Jake had been one of those popular guys in high school who thought he could get any girl he wanted. And for some reason, he had set his sights on you.

"He kept trying to talk to you, touch you, and when you tried to walk away, he grabbed your arm”. The room felt silent again “Yeah, I was jealous. I guess I couldn't stand the thought of someone else being so close to you. It made me sick”. You didn’t say anything and moved closer to him, closing the gap between you. As you both sat on the floor you rested your head on his shoulder. That’s the closest the two of you have been for three years. 

"You know, I was happy you hit him. It made me feel good, like I was being cared for". The two of you stared at the wall ahead of you. "I... I've always cared for you. More than you probably realized. I guess I just didn't know how to show it." He paused for a moment, gathering his courage to say more. "I-I love you. I always have”. "I love you too, Osc. More than you know" you said squeezing his hand. 

Oscar's heart skips a beat when you squeeze his hand and say you love him too. He couldn't believe this was happening. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace, not wanting to let go.

The sound of the door opening interrupted you. Lando walks in “God, I thought you killed each other”. Oscar reluctantly lets go of you, still feeling a bit annoyed by Lando’s behaviour. He gives Lando a glare “Very funny”. Your friend pointed a finger at you “You two should be thanking me”. 

04/09/24

[babygirl-riley]

Growing Pains

this art work belongs to my all time favorite CoD fan artist. @ave661

Simon holds his baby thinking about when you announced that you were pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, dad!simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon held onto his baby girl as she slept on his chest. She wore his favorite pants she has, skulls littering all over the grey of the shorts and just a simple shirt. Socks covering her feet so she didn’t get cold. He patted her back and rubbing up and down.

Never did he think that he would have a child. Let alone a baby girl. Simon thought about how he wouldn’t be the best dad and was afraid to be one. When meeting you that was the first conversation you both had.

“No kids.” He mumbled sipping his tea as you flipped a pancake.

“No kids,” You repeated. “Then you buy plan Bs since you don’t like condom nor pulling out.”

Simon chuckled at that. You were right he hated both. He loved to feel you gummy walls as the tightened around his cock. And he loved the thought of his cum coating your walls. “Fine.” He said softly standing up to walk to you and kiss your neck.

Five years later the topic was brought up. This time it wasn’t cause of not having one. “Simon,” You whispered through the phone. He knew this voice. Something happened. Something not good. He was gone on an assignment for three months. You have been wanting to mention to him about the forming bump before he got home. This time you had to. You couldn’t have him come home to that. “I’m pregnant.”

Simon thought he heard wrong. He had to. There isn’t anyway. “You sure?”

You sighed tears rolling down your face. Sob coming out. That’s when it hit him. It was true. You sobbed telling him you are terrified and didn’t know what to say. Simon stayed silent. He didn’t know what to do or say either. After a couple of minutes and you stopped talking. His heart was ripping he wanted to comfort you yet he was fucking terrified. “How far along?”

“3 months.”

Simon wanted to laugh. Of fucking course. This had to be a joke. You knew his thoughts about having kids. His thoughts would go back to his dad and what he would think about if he was a dad. Turn like his own. “‘Ight,” He sighed rubbing his painted eyes with his glove. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Price knew something was up with Simon when he was trying to take his time to go home. Usually he would be the first out. “Ya still here?” Price asked walking to him. Simon just nodded. “You and the Misses fight?”

Simon sighed shaking his head. “She pregnant.”

Price was taken a back. “Pregnant?”

Simon sighed once more. “I don’t know what to do.”

Price chuckled actually chuckled and loud. Price rubbed his chin taking out a cigar. “That’s what I said too Simon.” Both Simon and Price sat against Simon’s truck talking about pregnancy and what Price’s wife went through. What to expect. Especially not to be scared. Price explained that you were already terrified. Especially since this wasn’t planned.

When he walked through the door, it was dark and quiet. You were in bed, he did take long of coming home. When he took off his boots and clothes, showered before crawling into bed. Watching your body rise and fall from your sleep. When he started to wrap his arm around you, he felt it. The bump. The form. The child. He rubbed your stomach. “Alright kiddo. You win.” He whispered, pulling you closer.

The next day you woke up last (per usual). You noticed that it was recently warm, knowing that he just got out. You saw a distant light illuminating the hallway. You got out putting on your favorite robe, that kept you warm. Noting that it started to shrink. :(

When you reached the kitchen, he was in the back balcony. Mug in hand. Watching the sun come over the hills. You stepped out, having him turn to you, he moved his hand to grab yours and kissed its palm, before placing on your stomach. “‘M scared.” He whispered.

You put your hand over his and nodded. “I am too.”

Simon was silent looking at your belly. “What if I…” You placed your finger against his lips and walked around to straddle his hips.

“I’m going to stop you right there, I could tell you many ways how you are not your father,” You explained, he looked up at your face you massaged the back of his scalp. He sighed into it. “You might be tough skinned but you also have the biggest heart Simon.”

Simon sat there watching your smile, your eyes full of adoration. He smiled and placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned into it closing your eyes, feeling his warmth radiating. “I love ya so much.” He mumbled kissing you on the lips.

The next couple of months it was amazing. Simon would hold you, help out with putting on shoes when your feet would disappear. Rubbed your belly and hummed to the baby. He would kiss your stomach. He even lifted your tummy so you could have some relief. Soon enough Simon was coming more and more on terms with having a baby. With you. Having a mini both of you running around.

When she was born he was late, he was just landing as he sprinted to his truck. Soap pattering along with. As Soap drove Simon was on the phone with your mom who was informing him of the early birth. Saying you were alright just the baby was ready to be born. Simon was worried that he wouldn’t make it in time as Soap drove through the streets in high speeds.

Simon was throwing his gear off as much as possible. At least look decently alright, he would mess with his blond locks as he sprinted inside the hospital. Nurses guided him to the room that he heard painful screams. When he walked through, you were pushing already. “Si.” You whispered reaching for him.

Simon ran to your aid, holding your hand as the doctor would encourage you to push. Simon kissed your forehead with the breaks as you leaned into him. “You’re late.” You joke smiling at him. He smiled and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. Before he could make a joke to you the doctor ask for one more push.

Simon thought you were beautiful, sweat and all. Most of all he felt terrible about the pain you were enduring. After one last squeeze of your hand and loud scream. A loud wail came from the bottom of you. You laid back in relief as you panted for some air. Simon was frozen as they moved his little girl over to clean her up.

You watched them then turned to Simon. “Go see her.” You whispered drawing circles into his hand. He looked down at you and immediately you knew he was scared yet excited. “It’s okay.”

Simon nodded once and walked over to his bay girl. The nurses moved over (even though they didn’t need to since he towered over them.) He watched as her face would change into scrunching then not. She started to whimper instead of crying. The doctor looked up at Simon and smiled. “You ready dad?”

Simon nodded once as they passed the bundle of blanket over. She was tiny in his arms. The doctor explained where to hold and placements. You watched as you teared up, watching your boyfriend of all people being told how to hold a baby. Your baby. His baby. Simon looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes as he walked to you carefully.

You reached out for both you and the baby. “Ya did good lovie,” he whispered into your hair as he gently placed the baby against your chest. “I love you.”

You looked over at him as you smiled, tears falling down. “We did baby, I love you so much.”

Simon held onto her tighter as he remembered that day. The day he felt so many emotion for one little thing. She cooed and was chewing on her hand, Simon kissed her forehead as she cooed. “How you changed everythin’. Ya know?” He whispered picking her up to view her face.

She giggle as she reached for his face. Simon smiled as kissed her nose, she wiggled her head and laughed. Simon brought her closer smiling, she grabbed his face, as their forehead together. “I love you.” He said smiling as she grabbed the back of his hair.

He slowly pulled her hand out of his hair. You stood in the hallway watching as he laid her down on her tummy to teach her crawling. Your heart swelled watching quietly when he had his moments like that. All that mattered is that he became better than his own father.

[bbydoll18xx]

An Inch Away From More Than Just Friends

Paige Bueckers x reader

Your ex-boyfriend is quite literally the smallest man who ever lived, and Paige is there to pick up the pieces

Themes: Heavy smut, angst, happy ending <3, friends to lovers

Word count: 3k

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“And you deserve prison, BUT. YOU. WON’T. GET. TIME!” you scream-sing, each word punctuated with a hand slapping the table loudly. Tears fall down your face and you let out a ragged breath, attempting to quell your rage and anguish.

Your stupid ass, idiot of a boyfriend, Connor, had cheated on you with some tramp from Florida, of all places. And he had subsequently dumped you over text, attaching a picture of the girl sucking his cock.

You wanted to murder him. Slowly. With a knife. 

Here you sat, though, after the shock of that text message wore off, sobbing at your kitchen table to Taylor Swift. Your life felt like a terrible sitcom. 

He was your first boyfriend. You didn't really date much in high school. The boys were immature and gross, and the girls were too intimidating to approach in a flirty way. You just wanted to feel wanted, sick of constantly being the third wheel with your friends.

Despite getting broken up with out of the blue, you knew why Connor had done it. It was the reason for your countless arguments you had suffered through the last year.

Paige Bueckers.

Paige was your best friend, and Connor had absolutely loathed her from the moment you had introduced the two blondes. 

Your boyfriend had always been slightly possessive; it was one of the things that had initially attracted you to him. You had always craved an intense and all consuming love, and at first, you had thought you'd gotten that. But fate was tempted as you and Paige grew closer.

As the song you’ve had on repeat restarts for the hundredth time, you recall your last argument. It wasn’t difficult considering it happened just a few days ago. 

You and Paige were hanging out in your apartment like you did frequently. Laying side by side on your bed, a movie played on the TV, sending flickering lights through the dark room. You were both exhausted from the week, but each other’s presence produced a calm energy that washed over all of the stress you had been feeling.

Your legs are tangled up with Paige’s, and your head is nestled in the crook of her neck. The movie is long forgotten, as you relish in the presence of your best friend. She hums in content at your closeness, enjoying your company just as much as you.

You can actually feel your heart cry, realizing that you couldn’t get any closer to the blonde girl. 

You had been having several realizations the last few months: Your fondness for UConn’s favorite star was more than just friendly. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure that Connor had also picked up on this. And if this helpless little crush of yours continued, you’d be in deep shit. 

Contemplating your situation, Paige nudges into you, catching your attention. 

“I can literally hear the wheels in your head turning. Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” Paige teases softly.

Baby. 

Your heart flutters, as it always did when she called you little pet names.

You shrug, the movement slightly jostling Paige.

“Just dealing with some stuff,” you mumble, a feeble attempt to minimize what you were feeling. It's not like you could tell her anyway.

Before Paige can goad you into revealing more, the door to your bedroom is ripped open, hitting the wall with a slam and reverberating through the apartment. 

“I fucking knew it!” Connor shouted, pointing at you and Paige. His face was screwed up into an ugly expression of contempt.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Paige yells back, as you simultaneously shout, “Connor you can't just barge in here. That’s so fucking rude.”

“Stay away from my girlfriend, you nasty, little bitch,” Connor sneers meanly. Paige’s eyebrows furrow at this, standing in front of him to look him in the eye.

You try to stifle a laugh as Paige gets in your boyfriend’s face; she was two inches taller than him, and she never let him forget it. 

“I don’t know about ‘little,’” she retorts with a smug expression on her face.

Enraged, Connor spins around, stomping out of the room, kicking your couch on his childish rampage out.

Your breathing is irregular as you try to slow your heart rate. Sobs are already bubbling up inside your chest, threatening to seep through the cracks that Connor had left once more. 

Paige pulls you into her lap, cradling you against her chest in a desperate attempt to comfort you. Little did she know, her touch was all you really needed. 

You are pulled back into the present, feeling empty without Paige. Tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You felt like you were never really present anymore; walking through life in a daydream. Pictures of Paige constantly filled your brain, and you knew the unrequited feelings would be much more painful than the harsh termination of your and Connor’s relationship. 

Fuck. You were down bad. 

You take to your couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Those were two guys you knew would never fail you. You allow yourself to rot the day away. Episode after episode plays, but you are barely paying attention. You feel like screaming, the feeling of desperation wrestling with your typical sense of composure. 

Your vision slides over to the top of your fridge, where an impressive amount of alcohol sits.

‘Perfect. I can't pine when I’m black out drunk,’ you think miserably. 

You were so, so wrong. 

An hour later you were dancing around in nothing but one of Paige’s shirts and your underwear, using a large bottle of tequila as a microphone. You were usually a quiet roommate, but the empty apartment was the perfect excuse to let out all the emotions you had been holding in for months. 

You were so engrossed in your performance, you miss Paige walking in. When you finally turn to face her in a dramatic spin, hair flying everywhere, you gasp in shock. 

Paige is grinning. “Havin’ fun, babe?” she questions, clearly amused by your drunken antics.

You were too inebriated to feel embarrassed, and you nod with a bright smile. You thrust the bottle towards the blonde, encouraging her to join in your fun. 

“Oh, what the hell,” Paige concedes, taking the bottle and lifting it up to her mouth in a way that had you suddenly feeling sticky. 

She was sinful when she was drunk. It was not your fault that you wanted the clingy Paige that accompanied large amounts of alcohol. 

You spend the next hour taking turns sipping from the bottle, enjoying the feverish burning in your belly that follows each swallow. It doesn’t take much time for Paige to catch up to you, and you know she’s tipsy once she pulls you into her lap and starts drawing shapes onto your thighs. A quiet moan escapes from your lips at her touch; her fingers were fucking magic. 

You turn to face Paige, straddling her on your couch. The tequila in your system was making you bolder than the blonde was accustomed to you being, but she welcomed it. Now face to face, with nothing but your flimsy panties in between Paige’s muscular leg and your slick center, you gaze at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She was so pretty, and her eye contact made you bashful. Breaking away from the heat of those blue eyes, you wrap your arms around her neck in a huge hug, causing Paige to let out a small chuckle at your affection.

You were nothing if not candor whilst drunk, so Paige is hardly surprised when you slur, “Connor hated how I look at you. That’s why he broke up with me.”

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Paige murmurs, “How do you look at me?”

“Like you hung the fuckin’ moon,” you sigh dreamily, the tequila making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Oh, really, baby?” Paige questions, her voice growing deeper as you tilt your hips against her thigh once more in an attempt to feel some relief. Her presence was overwhelming your senses, and there was fire deep in your abdomen that was raging.

 You forget to respond to her, too distracted from the way her leg felt so damn good against your clothed pussy. Attempting to lessen some of the desire building up inside you, you experimentally roll your hips, letting out a lustful whine as you realize how good it feels. 

Paige is momentarily stunned at your boldness before she grabs your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes that were full of want. Your pupils are blown, the irises just a small ring at this point, and she questions if you really want to do this. 

Well obviously.

You nod your head, unsure if you had any words in you to describe just how badly you wanted Paige to fuck you.

“Baby, use your words,” Paige drawls. The huskiness of the term of endearment has you panting, and you struggle to moan out a “Yes, please just fuck me, P.”

That was all Paige needed. She places her hands underneath your ass, and lifts you up, carrying you towards your bedroom. You wrap your legs around her toned figure and meet her lips in a searing kiss. 

In a second, it feels like all the shittiness has evaporated away, leaving you feeling reborn and renewed. Paige was a fucking drug to you, and you needed another hit. 

Setting you down on your bed, Paige wastes no time stripping you of your oversized t-shirt, leaving you in your cotton panties that were now completely soaked. She swirls two fingers across the drenched fabric, smirking to herself that she was able to have such an effect on you. You whine at her deliberate actions and pout like a child who wasn’t getting their way. Paige laughs at your desperation and kisses the pout right off of your lips, licking into your mouth with fervor. 

You tug at her shirt, wanting her to be as bare as you were, and she quickly slips it over her head, throwing it onto the floor. There was still an imbalance of clothing between the two of you, and you finger the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants, wanting to see every bit of her. 

Shaking her head fondly at your blatant lack of shame, she gets off of the bed and shimmies out of her pants, leaving her in just a sports bra and those boxers you loved a little too much. From where you were still sitting on the bed, you shamelessly let your eyes rake over her toned figure. She was stunning, and you felt pride well up inside you, knowing you were finally going to have sex with the tall blonde.

It almost made the years of pining worth it. 

“This better?” Paige asks, gesturing towards her body, and you giggle in response. 

She climbs back onto the bed, a knee placed between your parted thighs and presses it against your soaked heat. You let out another loud moan at the contact, and your back arches off the bed from the pleasure. 

There are no thoughts in your tipsy, drunk-in-love brain, and it shows. You’re mumbling in tangents, now, pleading with Paige to do more. 

She finally concedes and goes to take off your panties. She’s being a little tease, slowly dragging them down your legs, while keeping intense eye contact with you. You are pretty sure the act makes your pussy drip even more. 

Placing a leg over her shoulder, Paige opens you up and takes a second to admire the gleaming wet folds that were hers and only hers. You tremble under her stare, feeling deliciously vulnerable in a way that makes you want to submit to her every whim. 

She inches closer to your pussy, pressing hot kisses all along your inner thighs. You revel in the buildup of it, trying to avoid being pushy. To no avail, your hips jut forward, slightly humping the air in an attempt to get some release. 

Coming back up to nip your earlobe playfully, Paige whispers sensually, “Gotta be a good girl for me.” 

You try to respond, but her use of the phrase ‘good girl’ makes the words catch in your throat. She resumes her kisses, trailing them down your throat to your chest, where she takes a detour in favor of showing your pretty, peaked nipples some attention. 

Another whine leaves your lips like a prayer, as Paige leaves love bites over your tits. That would look like a damn masterpiece in the morning, and you’re already planning to take a Polaroid picture of you topless, covered in Paige’s hickeys. 

Finally, she trails back down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin and leaving behind thousands of goosebumps in their wake. Your skin felt like it was on fire. 

“Please, Paigey. Need you, baby,” you whimper brokenly, begging for some respite from the torturous teasing. 

Paige gives in, dying to taste to you, and she licks a fat stripe on your pussy, starting at your dripping hole and ending in a tantalizing circle at your clit. Your hands fly to her head, trying not to pull at her hair too much. 

She inserts her middle finger into you, drawing another slutty moan from your lips as she pumps into you vigorously. 

There really is no way to describe just how good she is making you feel. The past six months of sex with Connor had been passionless and repetitive. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go without this again. 

Paige inserts another finger in your pussy with a smirk and continues to pummel them against your g-spot. The pressure in the pit of your belly was already building, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you exploded. Paige had taken a break from eating you out to kiss you once more, wanting you to taste your sweet wetness on her lips. It was possibly the hottest thing you had ever done, and the act pushes you closer to the finish line. 

“Gonna cum, Paigey,” you moan wantonly, your thighs twitching and your back arching once more. The tequila in your system causing you to act especially debauched. 

Paige loves it. 

“C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me,” she moans in response against your soaked pussy, and you fall apart instantaneously. 

High pitched whines and moans fill your bedroom as Paige continues thrusting her fingers in and out of you, slowing down as you ride out your high. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you would be embarrassed with yourself, but there was no thought of that. 

You needed to taste Paige. 

Once Paige pulls out of you, licking her fingers off as if she was starved, you reattach your lips feverishly. You taste so good, but you are dying to know what she tastes like, and without warning, you strip the rest of her clothes off. 

She lays her head on your mountain of pillows, blonde hair fanning in all directions. You can see the heaving of her chest, already anticipating your touch. Her lips are swollen in a way that’s positively sinful, and you think you’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as Paige does right now. 

Straddling her, you lean in to suck at the soft skin underneath her left ear, pulling out moan after moan that went right to your still-buzzing pussy. 

Trailing down to her tits, you knead one before attaching your hot mouth to the other, swirling your tongue around it and then nipping it experimentally. 

“Fuck, babe. Please. Can’t do more teasing,” Paige grits out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. 

Just as yours had, Paige’s hips squirm, and you grin up at her. You press kisses across her toned abdomen, mentally noting that her abs would be nice to ride another time, and finally settle at the opening of her legs. 

Spreading her open, you gaze upon her glistening wetness momentarily before diving in. You could not possibly wait another second to taste her. 

You two both moan at the contact, sending muffled vibrations against Paige’s pussy that brings forth a second, louder groan of pleasure. 

Wanting to make her feel so, so good, you plunge two fingers into her sopping wetness, while flicking the tip of your tongue across her clit repeatedly without ceasing. 

It had been awhile since you had eaten another girl out, but it came back to you immediately; it was like riding a bike. 

Paige’s moans fill the room, and you think you could die there happily. You’re unrelenting. The combination of three of your fingers and that lavicious tongue of yours soon has Paige panting out, “fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.” 

She rides out her orgasm, switching between moaning your name and naughty words that have you immediately wanting to do a second round. 

You pull your fingers out of her wetness, making a show of licking them off in front of her before meeting her in an erotic kiss.

You lay back on your pillows, stifling your sighs and calming the beat of your heart from what you had just done with your best friend. You look over at her, hoping and praying that the sex you just had wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 

Paige bites her lip, in a not so great attempt at hiding a smile, and pecks you on the lips. “That was way better than that fuckhead, Connor, right?” She was smug as hell. But she was not wrong.

“Considering his dick was three inches, uh yeah,” you laugh. “But joking aside, you were amazing.”

“Just glad I could make my girl feel better,” she replies.

“I’m your girl?” you ask, cheeks ablaze in a fiery heat of desire.

“You are now,” Paige chuckles, interlocking your pinkies together in an earnest proclamation of affection. 

You were hers, and she was yours. 

[deadhands69]

Something More [than each other]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn reader

MDNI

Setting: fuckboy!Bakugo, mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, etc: smut, angst!!!, light violence/injuries, drinking/intoxication, vomiting, swearing.

[sorry, you’re a mess in this one - i'll make it up in the next one, i promise!]

part 1  -  part 2  -  part 3  -  part 4 -  part 5  -  part 6  -  this is part 7 - part 8

“[y/n]”

“[y/n]”

“[y/n]”

Your name in his voice haunted your dreams and followed you through the day well after you’d woken-up. Such a small thing to mean so much. Maybe you’re overthinking it, you have to be. People say things they don't mean to during sex all the time. Especially when they've had a bit to drink.

It's not like that though, this is different.

Katsuki Bakugo had never used your real name before, opting to call you ‘Backfire’ based on your quirk or some other rude nickname he came up with on the spot. If he hadn't added it to the top of a project the two of you submitted together, you could have assumed he didn't even know your full name. Even after sleeping with him for a month you still weren’t on a first name basis.

That is, until last night.

The memory is etched into your mind. Living rent free, playing on repeat.

“[y/n],” he moaned in your ear moments before whimpering into your neck as he finished. His face lingered on your shoulder, soft lips grazing your skin while he panted to catch his breath. Typically, he moved quickly. One of you being out the door of the other's room within five minutes. Last night he took his time, arms wrapped around you even after you'd both recovered. Eventually, he kissed the back of your neck, cleaned himself up a bit, and left - forgetting his hoodie on your bed.

(Like someone who is normal and totally not obsessed,) you've picked apart every detail of the night for signs of meaning. It all comes back to your name. Over and over and over again.

Nothing else exists. 

Of course, you want to ask someone for advice but you haven't told anyone yet. When you tried to, it felt too personal. Also, with your friends reminiscing about their cute dates it felt weird asking them to decipher the significance of your friend with benefit’s moans. A friend they'd known since high school. Too awkward. 

You couldn't even talk to Bakugo for a reaction, because he left this morning. His part time side-kick job requires him to travel sometimes. He'll be in another country the whole week and you don't think he even has cell service. It's just you now. You, here alone in your room with his voice stuck in your head. 

You want to text him every time you're thinking of him, but don't want him to be overwhelmed when his flight lands and the messages come flooding in. 

This is a totally normal way to feel about a friend you tell yourself while laying face down, clutching his sweatshirt in the bed he fucked you in last night. 

A week later, and you still can't get him out of your head. Your closest friends have been keeping an eye on you more than usual, although they don't know the whole story. Being the only people (as far as you know) who know about your "situation" with him, they both assume you're distant this week because of his absence.

If only they knew.

In any case, Jiro and Mina are heading to a party tonight and you decide to tag along. It'll be good to get out for a bit. Quickly throwing on something cute, you don't make too much of an effort because Bakugo only just returned so he's likely jet lagged and going to bed early. You saw him out your window a bit earlier, looking tired and pretty roughed up. Tomorrow you'll reach out. For now, let him rest for the night. He needs it.

In the lobby, you meet up with your friends before leaving. Kiri texted Mina that Bakugo would be there as well. Your heart jumps more than you'd like to admit at that. The three of you almost wait for them but Kaminari wants to make a beer stop on the way so you agree you'll see them all there shortly. Everyone seems to be preparing to go harder than most nights.

There will be no crazy partying for you though.

Professor Aizawa was nice enough to offer to train with you in the morning, making space in his busy schedule. You’ve been struggling with expanding the reach of your quirk and mentioned it to him in passing. Much to your surprise, he’d offered to help. In spite of what Katsuki Bakugo believes, you absolutely do not have a crush on your teacher but he’s been your favorite hero since you were a little kid and you can’t pass the opportunity.

Speaking of Bakugo, you see Sero and Kaminari. Where is he?

This house is massive. You begin wandering around the party in search of a tall blonde, he should stand out. The living room is dimly lit but you finally spot his messy hair. And he's-

Suddenly, you wish you hadn't seen him. In a dark corner, he's letting himself be pressed into the wall by a random girl you'd never seen before. His hand on her shoulder, staring down into her eyes making that awful lovesick face.

Fuck.  

Being stabbed in the heart might have felt better. You stumble out the door of the house, the contents of your stomach begging to escape. A quick visit to the bushes gains the attention of a very worried Jiro, but you're determined to get out of there. You can explain it to her later (considering how hesitant she still is of your situation, she'll completely understand.)

Carelessly, you slam straight into Shinso. His purple gaze looking you over to make sure you’re okay. There’s some unspoken communication between him and your friend before he decides to get you home safely. You know you’re completely sober but by the way you’re behaving, eyes glazed over and stumbling, no one else does. Nor would they believe it if you pressed the issue. You don’t fuss about it, simply following him on autopilot.

You’re not here though, your brain is a million miles away being forcefully wrenched from some universe where you and Bakugo had any chance together.

He’s not yours, you know that.

He’s not anyone’s. He doesn’t do that sort of thing.

You know it was just physical. Just for fun.

You know it shouldn’t be a big deal.

You know. 

You know. 

You know.

Then why does this hurt so bad?

Shinso grabs your wrist, helping you narrowly avoid tripping over a curb. Still, you can’t be bothered to pay attention to your surroundings.

Your heart hurts. You just want to be home in bed, but even that doesn't sound comfortable. Nothing and nowhere will make you feel better. And what's worse, you let this happen. You shouldn't have spent the last week daydreaming about someone you should have known doesn't care about you like that.

You told him you wanted more fun in your life and, feeling guilty, he gave you that. What was it he said at the beginning of the term, that you needed to get laid but no one pitied you enough to? Then he had reason to feel bad and proceeded to sleep with you. Maybe you should have listened to him when he told you who he was. Let's face it: you chose the wrong person to care for.

The boy with his hand around your arm is so fucking nice, why can’t you just like him?

Or anyone else? Or better yet, no one?

Before you know it, you’re sobbing. Concern creeps over the violet haired boy’s face, having been prepared to keep you safe physically, not knowing to expect this. He brings his face level with yours and asks if you’re okay. You don’t respond.

Because you’re not okay. 

You want your life to go back to when you were happy just being alone. Before you knew what it was like to be close to Katsuki Bakugo. Before you let him get too close.

[sorry this one is so short! it made the most sense to end this part here. i won't leave you hanging too long though - part 8 will be up very soon. it's the final part, switching between Bakugo’s perspective and yours]

part 8 m.list

Taglist: @anonymity-222 @k1tk4tkatsuki @arsonfrogger @dragonscribble @kalulakunundrum

@screaming-dough @rikislove @gold24fish @ita606 @arc6021

@pikachuzhc @jeanbabygirl @nemisimp

[tarotwithavi]

Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse

18+ messages in some piles

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

These pictures belong to their rightful owners.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"

"I love the way you walk"

"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"

"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"

"I want to worship every part of your body"

"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"

"In your arms, I have found my home."

"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"

"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"

"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"

"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"

"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"

"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"

"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"

Pile 2

"You think you can run away from me love?"

"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."

"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"

"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"

"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"

"Your presence lights up my darkest night"

"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"

"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"

"You look so f-able in my hoodie"

"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"

"I will never force my beliefs on you"

"You look magical in that dress"

"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"

"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"

Pile 3

"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"

"Some things are better as secrets"

"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"

"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.

"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"

"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"

"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?

"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"

"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"

"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"

"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.

"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"

Pile 4

"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"

"To be honest I will let you step on me"

"Our future is so bright together mama"

"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."

"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"

"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"

"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"

"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"

"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"

"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"

"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

My Sweet Girl (Matthew Tkachuk Imagine)

This is by far-- I repeat, by far-- the longest reader insert I've ever written. It's my submission for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange, a gift for @matthewtkachuk ! Excellent URL, by the way.

The creative process here went as follows: Shelbs shows me her On Repeat Spotify playlist -> I see The Band Camino on it and remember that I love that band -> I listen to nothing but them for two weeks -> I hear the song Know It All and am struck with inspiration -> I write this and inflict it on everyone else.

I jumped around a bit while writing, so please let me know if there's anything I screwed up! This is also the type of fic that has had 20+ tabs of Wikipedia pages, ESPN articles, and stats pages open on my computer for two months, but there was still information I couldn't find, so please be gentle with any inconsistencies.

Anyway, I truly hope that you enjoy this one! I apologize for being a day late posting, my job sucks.

Rating: M

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk/fem!Reader

Words: 26, 028

Warnings: a lot of angst

Contains: best friend's brother, friends to ??? to strangers to lovers, situationship, idiots in love, everyone knows but them, Matthew being kind of a dick, guest appearances by the Weinberg-Hughes family and Jane Gaudreau

Summary: As Brady's best friend, it was your duty to love and support him. You're pretty sure falling in love with his brother does not count as "support", but here you are.

-----

You weren’t expecting this to be as hard as it is.

Luckily, you’d been given a little warning beforehand, but apparently a week wasn’t enough to prepare yourself. Was it kind of fucked up that the news had to come from Brady, because Matthew hadn’t bothered to tell you himself? Yeah, kind of. Sure, Brady and you have been best friends for years, but it’s not like you’re not close with Matthew, too.

You hadn’t realized what was going on at first, convincing yourself not to be upset when Matthew’s texts slowed and his calls stopped outright. It had been the beginning of the playoffs, you reasoned, of course he was going to be too busy to talk to you as much. Despite the fact that communication between the two of you had never waned because of the season before. It was his first year on a new team, you’d told yourself, a team with a great shot at the Cup, at that. You could deal with missing him a little more than usual if that’s what he needed.

When you’d called him to congratulate him on passing the first round, he’d thanked you and wrapped the call up as quickly as he could. Seeing the 3:24:41 call duration on your phone afterward had felt wrong. It was one of the shortest calls the two of you had ever had.

You’d brushed it off, chalked it up to him being tired or busy. Then they’d won the second round, and the process repeated itself. A quick phone call, a few scant minutes. It had sounded like other people were there that time, so you’d convinced yourself that he would call you back when he was alone. He never did.

You got to watch Game 4 of the third series, got to watch them sweep Carolina to win the Eastern Conference. Your friend Terri had laughed and clapped as you cheered, jumping up and down like a child. She was a Carolina fan herself, but was good enough of a loser to hug and congratulate you despite it. She’d offered to leave so that you could talk to Matthew, but you’d waved it off. You knew he’d be celebrating with the boys that night, so there was no real reason to try calling. You’d shot him a congratulations text and spent the night smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

When you’d tried to call Matthew the next day, his voice had been hushed when he answered. You’d given him your congratulations, bubbling over about how well they’d played. It’s not the first time you’d had a phone call exactly like that, him letting you gush about his team’s play and basking in the attention. This time, he interrupted you before you even got a chance to really get going. His voice was still quiet, almost a whisper as he said he had to go. The wind was immediately taken out of your sails and you’d barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up.

At that point, you’d given up convincing yourself that everything was okay. Something was very clearly wrong, and you’d spent the next nine days trying to figure out what it was. You’d reached out to Brady, and he’d told you that he hadn’t noticed anything weird from Matthew at all. Knowing that, you’d tried to downplay what was going on between the two of you, lest Brady go bother Matthew about it. You don’t do well with embarrassment, so you’d preferred that whatever was going on stayed away from any third parties.

The finals started, ending rather anticlimactically ten days later in a 4-1 loss for the Panthers. Knowing Matthew, he was going to go straight back to his hotel room and beat himself up. For the last three, almost four, years, you’d called Matthew after every big win or loss, and this was his biggest loss to date. Yet your finger hesitated at his contact name, hovered over the picture of him with bedhead and a lazy smile. With how things had been going, you knew he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you, even if you hadn’t figured out why yet. But part of you hoped that he would, that everything to that point had been stress, and there, at his lowest, he would talk to you again, and everything would go back to normal.

That, of course, is not what happened.

He hadn’t answered at all. And when you’d tried a second time an hour later, it rang once before going to voicemail. That meant that he’d declined your call, but you didn’t know what that meant.

Two more days passed without you hearing anything from him, so you’d called Brady. All of this had been concerning, but that had been too much. Miraculously, you’d managed to stay calm when you spoke with Brady, sounding impressively level-headed when you relayed what happened and asked him if he’d heard from Matthew. Brady had seemed shocked at the situation, immediately calling Matthew after he’d hung up with you.

Thirty minutes later, when you’d received a text from Brady, your heart had sunk to the pit of your stomach, and it’s stayed there ever since.

Because what the text had informed you of is that Matthew hadn’t lost or broken his phone, hadn’t been sick or depressed or, god, lost in the fucking desert or some shit. It told you that he’d been with his girlfriend, and hadn’t wanted her to see him call or text another girl. Because, apparently, Matthew has a girlfriend now. And just hadn’t deigned to tell you.

When Brady had told you that she would be spending the offseason in St. Louis with Matthew, you’d tried to hide your shock. You’d cleared your throat and told Brady how great that was, even as you wanted to throw up. They’d gotten into town a few days ago, and you’d done your best to keep your distance. But Brady asked you to come to dinner at his parents’ house tonight, citing the limited time you have to see him before he goes back to Ottawa, and you couldn’t refuse.

So now here you are, curled up in a chair in the Tkachuks’ den, across from said girlfriend. Her name is Tessa, she’s 26, and she does remote work for a marketing firm. That explains how she’s able to pick up and go to St. Louis for three months, at least. She’s already recounted the story of how they’d met, a romcom story of spilling his drink on her dress at a party and getting to know each other from there. She talks about the instant connection, the way they clicked so quickly that she knew they were meant for each other. That part of the story was when you’d excused yourself to get a glass of water, just so you could stick your head in the fridge and take a few deep breaths.

Matthew and Tessa are on one of the couches, the older, comfier one. Matthew is propped up against one of the armrests, Tessa curled into his side, his arm around her shoulders. You’ve spent the night pretending not to notice the way Matthew keeps glancing at you.

Brady and Emma are posted up on the other couch, one on either side, Emma’s feet in Brady’s lap as she lounges. Emma is great, and does a great job at keeping the conversation going, despite how little you and the boys are participating. Tessa either doesn’t notice your silence or doesn’t mind, chatting happily about some film she and Emma have both recently seen. You’re pretending not to notice the looks Brady’s giving you, either.

You should really be trying harder. You know Brady wasn’t expecting you to curl up under a blanket and mope when he invited you, and he really is right about time being limited. You should be engaging, enjoying the time you get with the boys while you have it. You would, if you could open your mouth without feeling like you’re going to scream.

Eventually, Chantal calls you all to dinner. It’s easier once you’re all gathered around the table, somehow, and you’re able to talk a little. Chantal has always put you at ease, has always made you feel like just another of her children. If you had it your way, Taryn would be here too. She has a way of lovingly bullying you that always makes you feel better. Unfortunately, she’s visiting some college friends out of state. But you’re doing okay, you think, at acting normal.

Then you lock eyes with Keith, and any sense of ease you’ve gained flies out the window. You wouldn’t be inclined to say that Keith is the most observant person in the world, so the way he’s looking at you– like he knows something is very, very wrong– makes it clear that you’re doing an absolutely dogshit job at hiding your feelings. You look away from him quickly, swallowing hard and forcing yourself to talk even more. 

Maybe if you can just act normal, if you can push down the emotions and act like everything is okay, it will be. There’s nothing else you can really do about the situation anyway. Matthew has made it clear that he’s not interested in talking about it, so you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it on your own.

Dinner goes by a little quicker once you’re actually actively involved in the conversation. Typically, you help Chantal with the dishes after meals, but when you reach for the sponge at the sink, she shoos you away. She sends the girls back to the den, insisting that it’s the boys’ turn to help.

You curl back up in your chair, mind wandering as you operate on autopilot. You’re saying things, contributing to the conversation with Emma and Tessa, but you have no idea what you’re actually saying. Mercifully, they either don’t notice or don’t care.

This entire situation is fucked. What’s really getting to you, though, is how you’d been introduced. You’d walked in, giving out hugs to everyone except Matthew and Tessa. She’d approached you, shaking your hand enthusiastically.

“Matthew said you’re Brady’s best friend, right?” she’d asked. It was simple, innocuous, and true. Brady and you have been best friends for years, and that would be an adequate title in any other scenario. But it felt like a punch to the gut, knowing that after everything, Matthew had told her that you were just his little brother’s best friend. You’d glanced at him as she said it, and the intentionally cool, unaffected expression Matthew had in place still couldn’t hide the guilt in his eyes.

In that moment, you knew that he hadn’t told her anything about you, about whatever the two of you have been to each other for the past few years, and that he never intends to. There was a second where he’d made a decision, a second that you weren’t present for, that had cut off everything you’ve been to him and relegated you back to Brady’s Best Friend.

You want to pull Tessa aside, spill out everything. You want her to know that you’re Matthew’s friend too, that you’ve been more than that. More than that, you want Matthew to do it. You want him to tell her, to acknowledge whatever the hell you’ve been doing for all this time. You want him to admit that you’re something, anything to him.

Instead, you keep it all to yourself. The knowledge of everything between you and Matthew will live and die where it is now, in the minds of the two of you, and nowhere else.

June, 2018

You’re wiping down the counters when the man enters. You force a bright smile at him, still annoyed from the previous customer but doing your best not to show it. He returns the smile, approaching the register. You move to settle across from him, greeting him politely. The shop has a lot of regulars, but you don’t recognize this guy.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, giving a single nervous laugh, “I’m not really a coffee guy. Do you have any recommendations?” It’s not an uncommon question, and there aren’t any other customers right now, so you don’t mind.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He shakes his head. That eliminates about half of the menu, so it’s progress.

“How much caffeine are you going for?” you ask next.

“As much as possible,” he replies. The dark circles under his eyes could have hinted you to that conclusion. He has a laptop and notebook in one hand, down by his side. It’s normal for people to bring work along with them, and he’s definitely young, so you guess it’s probably school work.

“You could always do a triple shot latte with a flavor,” you suggest, your own go-to drink, “The caramel is the strongest. I can put in an extra pump if you want.” Technically, you should charge extra for that, but the kid looks kind of pathetic, and you feel bad. He can have a pity pump this once.

“That sounds good,” he agrees. You do the math in your head and punch in the price manually on the vintage register. The whole cafe is supposed to have a vintage vibe, a real hipster magnet. Math was always your weakest subject, but having to calculate totals in your head has made you a lot better with it.

Once he pays on the very not-vintage card reader, you direct him to the far side of the bar. You start on his drink, pulling shots with practiced ease. You’ve been working  here since high school, so you’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee. He doesn’t try to talk to you while you work, which is nice. There’s something oddly calming about his presence, though, and it’s helping your annoyance fade.

You hand off his drink, and he retreats to a booth in the back corner after thanking you. You go back to wiping things down, bobbing your head along with the music playing quietly over the speakers. It’s later in the evening, so you only get a few customers over the next hour. It’s one thing you like about working the night shift. Not many customers, and most of the people getting coffee around this time are tired enough to not give you much trouble, and are usually extremely grateful for the caffeine.

It’s quiet for long enough that you pull your stool up to the counter, pulling your textbook and notes out from under the counter. You start working on the homework for your summer semester, singing quietly to yourself as you read.

“You have a nice voice,” the guy from earlier says, suddenly standing in front of you. You jump, hand flying to your chest as if you’re a damsel in a period piece. You’d forgotten he was here.

“Thank you,” you say, once the surprise fades. You laugh a little, shaking your head. He laughs too, apologizing for startling you.

“Could I have another?” he asks, holding up his now-empty cup.

“Of course,” you reply, “Same cup okay?” You do your best to be environmentally friendly, so you don’t want to use another cup if you don’t have to. He says that’s okay, so you take the cup and start pulling another shot.

“Y/N,” he says absently as he leans on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” You thank him again, dumping the first shot into the cup. It’s odd, because people are usually flirting when they say something like that, but his tone isn’t suggestive at all.

“What’s your name?” you ask, feeling like you should say something. You start pulling the second shot.

“Brady,” he says, extending a hand toward you. You look between his hand and your own, feeling rude but needing both hands to pull the shot.

“Oh, um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I’m–” He seems to realize what’s going on and retracts his hand, using it to rub at the base of his skull.

“My bad,” he says, shaking his head at himself, “I’m tired, sorry.” You smile at him, much more genuine than the first time.

“What’s got you so tired anyway, Brady?” you ask, dumping the second shot and starting on the third. His face twists at what you’d thought was an innocuous question. He’s clearly debating something in his head, so you stay silent.

“I’ve got something big coming up in a couple weeks,” he explains, tapping his fingers against the counter, “I’m just trying to be prepared.” You nod, not minding how vague he’s being. You don’t actually need to know every detail of a random customer’s life. There’s a moment of quiet as you dump in the third shot and pour some milk into a metal container.

“And I might be a little nervous,” he says, looking at his hands instead of you. You smile again, beginning to steam the milk.

“Just a little,” you repeat, slightly teasing in a way you usually aren’t with customers.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking up at you, “Just a little.” You smile at each other for a second, both knowing he’s seriously downplaying his feelings. You wonder what it is that has him so anxious, sure that it must be something serious. He doesn’t seem to be the neurotic type.

“What are you working on?” he asks as you pour the milk, gesturing toward your books spread out next to the register. You shrug.

“Organic chemistry,” you reply, pumping in the flavoring, “The worst class ever.” He cringes at the mention of it, which you feel in your bones.

“I’ve heard it’s awful,” he says.

“It is,” you confirm. You snap the lid back onto the cup, sliding it over the counter to him. He cradles it between his hands, but doesn’t move to leave. He’s looking up at you from where he’s hunched over, and you can’t help but stare back.

“Do you want to come sit with me?” he asks, “We could be miserable together.” The smile that overtakes your face mirrors itself on his own.

August, 2018

When Brady walks in, right at his usual time, you give him a smile and lean over the counter to hug him. You’ve become fast friends, sitting together a few nights a week, probably talking more than studying. His Big Thing is long past, and he still hasn’t told you what it was, but you don’t really mind. You get to know about his family and his girlfriend and his upcoming move to Ottawa, of all places, but you don’t need to know everything if he doesn’t want to share.

You make two of the usual latte, one for each of you. You grab your books from the shelf, meeting him at the corner booth. You get through some small talk as you both set up, going back and forth with an ease that you were surprised to find has been there since the beginning.

“Matthew’s going to come hang out tonight,” he says as he logs into his computer. He’s spoken about his brother before, so you’re somewhat intrigued.

“Any particular reason?” you ask. To your knowledge, Matthew has never been to the shop, so you’re not sure if something special is going on to spur him into coming.

“He thinks it sounds cool,” Brady shrugs, flipping his notebook open. Maybe you’d know what he’s always working on if you could read his tiny chicken scratch. As it is, you don’t mind letting him have his secrets.

You get four pages into your chapter before another customer enters, laying your pen in the divot between the pages while you go make them their drink. Luckily, they don’t stick around. It’s not awful when other people are around, but you always feel like someone is going to complain about you sitting in the dining room and studying while you should be working. But if there’s no work to be done, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. So you prefer if it’s just you and Brady.

Another four pages drag by, reading interspersed with breaks to talk. Honestly, the breaks are also a way to keep yourself sane as you read unnecessarily complicated science.

When the next customer enters, you spring up from your chair, shooting them a smile as you make your way behind the counter. You give your standard greeting, asking what you can get them.

“What do you recommend?” the man asks. You were kind of hoping he’d have something in mind so that this interaction could go quickly, because he may be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and it’s making you flustered.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He nods, looking you up and down with a critical eye. It feels personal, feels like he’s searching for something, and you’re not sure if you like it.

“How much caffeine are you looking for?” you ask next. You do your best to maintain eye contact, ignoring the way you have to look up to do so.

“How much you got?” he asks in return. The crooked smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. You grasp for a drink to suggest, all knowledge having fled your mind in order to focus on the curl of his hair over his forehead, the glint of his bright eyes.

“A Lazy Eye would probably be the most,” you say, clearing your throat, “But if you don’t want to have a heart attack, you could do a regular Red Eye.” He tilts his head, smile turning smug, as if he’s noticed your distraction. Something about it snaps you out of your daze, slightly indignant. You’ve seen plenty of hot guys in your day, and you’re not about to look like a fool in front of him just because he’s pretty.

“Red Eye, Black Eye, Dripped Eye, Lazy Eye,” you list off with as much confidence as you can muster, “Each with one more shot than the last. Pick your poison.” Your attitude change only makes him smile wider. Your hand is poised over the buttons of the register, ready to ring up whatever he decides.

“Let’s go with a Black Eye,” he says, bearing a surprisingly sharp canine, “I’ve had a few of those in my time.” That doesn’t surprise you, with his smug face and oozing self-confidence. Something about it feels so disingenuous that it makes your teeth itch. It’s clearly an act, but you can’t exactly call him on it.

You give him his total, he pays, you get to work. You empty the last dregs of coffee in the pot into the sink and set the machine to brew a new batch. No matter how annoying a customer seems, you’re not about to serve them shitty coffee.

“Y/N,” he says, leaning on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” It’s exactly what Brady had said when you’d met him, which makes you eye the man a little suspiciously. Whereas Brady had clearly not been flirting when he’d said it, this man’s tone is ambiguous enough that you’re not entirely sure what his intentions are.

“Thank you,” you say, dumping the first shot of espresso into the cup. Normally, you would ask for his name in return, but you’re not sure if you want to encourage him talking to you.

“How long have you worked here?” he asks anyway.

“Almost three years,” you reply. You’re not sure you want to tell him anything about your life, but you’re trying to be polite.

“Experienced,” he says, smiling like he’s a lion closing in on its prey, “I like that.” It’s cheesy and kind of sleazy, and you can’t help but scoff in disbelief. He’s watching you like a hawk, studying your reactions to everything he says and does. You dump the second shot, wishing the coffee would brew faster so this interaction could be over.

“I don’t think I want to know what else you like,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You used to get embarrassed and rattled by customers making comments like this, but at some point something had changed inside you. Now you just get annoyed, no matter how hot the person may be.

“Feisty,” he says, smile changing slightly in a way you can’t parse, “I like that too.” You roll your eyes, making a quiet noise of disgust. It’s not great for business to react to customers this way, but you can’t help it.

“I like it when men are silent,” you reply, able to feel how withering your gaze is. His expression changes yet again, smile getting smaller but more genuine, scrunching the bottom of his eyes up a little. That feels more natural to you, looks more right on his face. Something about the new softness in his eyes soothes something inside of you.

The coffee machine beeps to signal that it’s ready, and you waste no time in grabbing the pot and filling the cup. You hand it off to him, giving your biggest, most obviously fake smile.

“Have a fantastic night,” you say, immediately rounding the counter and heading back to the booth. When you settle back into your seat, Brady is smiling at you like you’ve told the funniest joke in the world.

“What?” you ask, picking up your pen. Brady’s eyes flick up above your head, slightly to the left, staying there, prompting you to turn around. The man is standing behind you, small smile still in place.

“Brady’s told me so much about you,” he says, and it dawns on you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Matthew.” Your jaw falls open and you turn back to Brady, kicking him in the shin under the table. He yelps; Matthew laughs.

“You’re both the worst,” you spit, trying to hold onto your irritation and failing. You laugh alongside the brothers, begrudgingly amused by the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Sorry about that back there,” Matthew apologizes, seemingly genuine, “I couldn’t help myself.” You shake your head at him as he bullies Brady further into the booth so he can sit. Brady shoves him back, but moves his things over anyway.

“It’s okay,” you say, pointing at him, “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’m banning you from the shop.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t know you had the power to do that,” he replies, using his crossed arms to lean on the table.

“I do now,” you say, tilting your chin up, “Gonna put a picture up of you with a big X on it and everything.” You stare at each other for a second, and he breaks first, ducking his head as he laughs.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, looking up at you through his lashes. Your heart skips a beat, but you do your best to seem unaffected. This is your friend’s brother, for Christ’s sake. You can’t be all aflutter over him. You’re not sure you have a choice in the matter.

June, 2023

You might actually kill your coworker one day. He’s such a smug rat bastard, and every meeting including both of you makes you think you’re going to grind your teeth into dust. It’s just lucky that the job is remote, so you don’t have to be around him physically. Probably best for both your sanity and his safety.

“I mean, at least you were right in the end?” Terri says, sounding uncertain through your headphones. You’re sauteeing some onions and peppers, moving them around more than you should be just for something to do with your hands.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don’t understand why he wants to make me look bad.” Ian– the coworker– seems to always have some kind of comment on your work, some type of criticism. Constructive criticism is part of the game, but his is never constructive. It doesn’t help that you’re the only two in the graphics department, so he’s always there when you present work. And really, being the only two should mean that you work together and support each other, honestly.

“Because he’s an insecure man-child,” Terri replies easily. You shake your head down at the vegetables, startling as the oven timer goes off. You jab at the button to turn it off, opening the door to remove the chicken.

“I think I’ve had enough of insecure man-children,” you grumble. You cut open one of the chicken breasts with more force than is strictly necessary, grateful that it seems to be done.

“You finally wanna talk about that?” Terri asks, and honestly? No, you don’t. Ideally, you’ll never talk about it, just push it down into the darkest recesses of your mind and bury it there. Unfortunately, you possess some level of emotional maturity, which means you know that you have to talk about it eventually.

It’s hard, because despite Brady being your best friend, you can’t exactly talk to him about this. If he knew any part of what’s been going on, he’d probably go physically fight Matthew on your behalf. Part of you thinks that might actually make you feel a little better. But he’d also probably be mad that you’ve had a not-thing with his brother, and that would make you feel worse.

“She seems like a nice woman,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. Terri sighs, and you take your plate of food to the living room to eat.

“She’s not the problem, here,” she says. She’s right, and you know it. You really don’t have anything against Tessa, and obviously you can’t blame her for any of this. Clearly, she had no idea about your not-thing with Matthew, and genuinely fell for him. There’s no point in being mad at her.

“Yeah, well,” you push some food around your plate, “He’s a fuckface and she can have him.” The mention of Matthew has ruined your appetite, the meal now looking completely unappealing. You push the plate to the other side of the coffee table with a huff. You’ll try eating again later, you tell yourself, knowing that you haven’t been eating nearly enough lately. You can’t help it, your inner turmoil chasing away your hunger most of the time.

“He is a fuckface,” Terri agrees, adding, “But don’t pretend you don’t still want him.” Ugh. Friends are the worst, actually, and you should just become a hermit in a cave somewhere. There’s no point even trying to deny the claim, both of you knowing that she’s right.

“I’m not allowed to want him anymore,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you want to admit, “I never should have let myself want him in the first place.” In the beginning, despite being attracted to Matthew, it was easy to maintain distance. He was in Calgary most of the year, and reminding yourself that he was your new friend’s brother actually worked as a deterrent back then.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started letting yourself get caught up, but you’d ended up completely entangled with him. Now he’s put that distance back between you, ripping away the strings you’d been tied up in, leaving you with all these empty spaces where he used to be. And it’s making you hate yourself, knowing that if you’d just kept things cordial, restricted your attention and connection to Brady like you should have, you wouldn’t be feeling any of this right now.

“You can’t help who you love,” Terri says, so gently that it only hurts more. You’re not fragile, okay? You don’t need the softness, the careful handling. You’re not fragile. You’re not.

“I gotta go eat,” you say, not wanting to lie, but needing a way out of the conversation, “Bye, Ter.” She says your name, but you just repeat the goodbye. She sighs, says goodbye, and you hang up. What you should do is eat something and go to sleep. Instead, you eye the easel in the corner of the living room. You sigh, heaving yourself up off of the couch to go grab a glass of water to rinse your brushes with.

April, 2019

It’s probably going to become your new favorite day of the year: the day Brady comes home from Ottawa. His plane had landed yesterday, and his parents had even brought you to the airport with them to pick him up. As quickly as you’d bonded last summer, you’d only gotten closer through the season. It feels like you can talk to each other about anything, like you were meant to meet, like he’s the platonic version of a soulmate. You had patiently waited your turn to hug him after his parents, squeezing him as tightly as you could manage. He’d only squeezed back harder.

With their seasons ending right around the same time this year, Matthew had landed the same night. Knowing they’d have to go back to the airport, the Tkachuks had decided to just spend the day out instead of going home. They’d invited you to come with them, an invitation you’d eagerly accepted. They’re quickly starting to feel like family to you, and you love spending time with them. For the first time in your life, it feels like you fit somewhere.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to come along to pick up Matthew. You’d had to work last night, so the Tkachuks had dropped you off at home to get changed and get going. You’d still gotten to spend most of the day with them, which would have to be enough.

You’re going over to their place today, and you decided to bake and bring along cookies. All of their local family and friends are going to be there to welcome the boys home, and you haven’t met most of them yet, so you want to make a good first impression. Besides, it’s just polite to bring something along to someone’s house.

Though Brady still tries to hug you when you arrive, despite your hands being full, the plates need to be deposited on the dining room table before he can get a real one. There are a few people chatting in the room, so Brady introduces you to them.

Most of the next hour goes much the same, Brady introducing you to family and friends, having small conversations with all of them. You know that Brady isn’t trying to embarrass you, but he has a habit of hyping you up to people. He’s more outgoing than you are, and he uses that social ease to brag about how smart you are, how talented. It feels a little like he’s trying to justify being your friend to them, but you know better than to think that Brady cares what anyone thinks of him and his choices.

The kitchen exits onto a large cherry wood deck, scattered with chairs, some of them already occupied. The back yard is sprawling, green grass lined with lush bushes. There’s a pool to the right, not opened for the summer yet, a jacuzzi positioned between it and the house. You’re still not really used to all of this, the casual wealth of the family. It’s so far from what you’d grown up with, something that had astonished you when you’d realized just how far above you the Tkachuks are.

There are a few yard games set up in the grass, cornhole and ladders and something you don’t recognize. And there, in the center of the yard, Matthew is teaching a child how to play ladders. The kid is probably a cousin, of which they have many. Matthew is barefoot, wearing a bright red Flames hoodie and black shorts that only come to mid-thigh. You’ve narrowed your staring down to a minimum, so your eyes only linger for a second or two before you turn back to Brady.

He guides you around to meet the few people braving the chilly spring weather, much as he had done inside. Everyone is so nice, saying how pleased they are to meet you, and seeming to mean it.

Your last stop is Matthew, who interrupts his lesson to hug you. It’s only the second time the two of you have done so, the first having been the last time you saw him before he left for the season. Despite that fact, he squeezes you almost as hard as Brady had, as if you’re his best friend too. Not that you’d presume to be Brady’s best friend, but. Still.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says when you pull apart, and the expression on his face tells you how genuine it is. Your smile is almost involuntary, turning up the corners of your mouth and baring just a hint of teeth.

“Welcome home, Matthew,” you reply, “We missed you.” You’re not sure what “we” you’re referring to, but it feels less incriminating than saying “I missed you”. You get the feeling that he understands anyway, beaming at you.

The three of you chat for a few minutes, Matthew introducing you to his little cousin. With there being four of you, you decide to play a game of ladders, to test the little one’s skills. He’s pretty good, for a kid, and you and Brady make sure to throw well enough to convince him that you’re trying, but still let him win. Throughout, Matthew gives him tips and instruction, so kind and gentle that it makes your heart ache. They cheer when they win, high fiving and teasing you and Brady.

You go inside to spend some time with Keith and Chantal. Chantal gives you a big hug, as if she hadn’t just seen you yesterday. Keith gives you a hearty clap on the shoulder. Taryn appears at some point, sneaking up behind you and poking your sides to make you jump. You laugh along with her, enfolding her into the conversation easily.

Time flies by, the sun setting around you, the house lights turning on one by one as darkness descends. Eventually, you end up lounging in the den with the other adult kids. From your visits last year, the chair in the corner has become yours. You’re settled in, legs folded up under you as something that no one is watching plays on the TV. Brady and Taryn get into a heated debate about something or another, and Matthew gives you a long-suffering look as his younger siblings bicker. You just smile back at him, finding the family’s passion entirely endearing.

“Seventeen years of this,” Matthew gripes, clearly not as annoyed as he’s trying to seem.

“And sixty more to go,” you reply. Matthew chuckles at that, looking to Brady and Taryn with such fondness that you almost can’t stand it. It’s the kind of relationship you’d wanted with your own brothers, but that’s best not to think about.

“Hopefully,” Matthew says, turning that fond look toward you. Your heart skips a beat, and you’ve gotten good at ignoring that.

May, 2019

You shouldn’t be this nervous, but you are. Terri is on speaker phone, telling you about her new job. You’re half-listening, staring at the clothing laid out on your bed. You’ve been agonizing all morning about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to do your makeup, if you should wear makeup at all.

“I’m glad that your boss defended you,” you say to Terri, still tuned in enough to follow her story, “She seems cool.”

“She’s so cool,” Terri gushes, “She’s my favorite now.” You’re so happy that Terri has finally found a good job, especially with how hellish her previous one had been. This one pays almost double what she was getting before, too, which definitely doesn’t hurt. She expounds a little more about the things she loves about her boss, and you decide to hang back up the dresses you’ve laid out. It’s still a little too chilly to wear them, especially after sundown.

“You’re still staring at those damn clothes, aren’t you?” Terri asks, switching the topic suddenly. Your face gets warm as you make a plaintive hand gesture, despite her not being able to see you.

“Clothes are stupid and I can’t decide,” you complain, trying to imagine how each of the final two options will come across. If you try too hard, Matthew might think that you think this is a date, but you still want to look good. You know it’s not a date, but you’re still kind of acting like it is, and it’s embarrassing.

“Definitely wear jeans,” Terri advises, “That’ll make it more casual.” You agree, putting away the skirt you’d paired with the one shirt, trying to picture how it would look with jeans. You move the pants between each shirt, before giving up and just putting them on. You’ll just try on both outfits and see which one you like better.

Once dressed in the first option, you take a picture to send to Terri. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that. After a minute or two of consideration, you switch tops. You take another picture and send both to Terri for her opinion.

“Oh, definitely the second one,” she says, “The first one makes you look like you’re going to a job interview.” You look at the picture again, and can’t deny that she’s right. You put that one away, settled in your decision. You’re not sure if Matthew has ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, so you hope the red tank top layered with a tucked-in sheer pink printed blouse isn’t too much of a change.

When Matthew had invited you to take a walk around the park yesterday, just the two of you. You’ve never spent more than a few minutes alone with him, always having Brady or Taryn or Emma to provide distraction and distance. This time you’ll have nothing to focus on but him.

The time comes soon enough, and you gather your things, not wanting to make Matthew wait for you when he arrives. You’d offered to drive yourself and meet him there, but he’d waved off the idea immediately, saying that he’d pick you up.

A knock comes at your door right on time. You take a deep breath before you open it, settling your frenzied heart. Matthew smiles as soon as he sees you.

“Oh wow,” he says, almost absentmindedly, “You look great.” Your blush is immediate, and you hope he can’t see it. It seems that anything that comes out of his mouth makes you blush, sometimes.

The drive to the park isn’t too long. When you arrive, you gather your bag from the floor of the passenger seat, and by time you move to get a hand on the door handle, Matthew is already opening the door from the outside. It’s a sweet surprise, and you thank him as you climb out of the car.

It’s a nice day, not too cold or windy for once. The two of you walk, talking about this and that, moving from topic to topic as they arise. You point out a few birds as you go, and Matthew listens to the little fun facts you give about them. He seems genuinely interested, but even if he’s not, at least he’s polite enough to pretend.

“I guess we should have left a little earlier,” Matthew remarks as the sun goes down, the light fading around you. The sun sets quickly this time of year, so you’re still a few minutes out from the car by time it’s completely dark. The lights along the pathway bathe Matthew in yellow light, casting warm shadows in the dips and hollows of his face.

“At least I have a big, strong man to protect me,” you joke, elbowing him.

“Oh no, if we get jumped I’m running,” he replies, shooting a shit-eating grin down at you. You gasp and press a hand to your heart, as if you’re truly scandalized.

“You would really abandon me like that?” you ask. His smile softens at the edges.

“Never,” he says, looking so genuine that it makes your heart flutter, pausing before he adds, “Unless we’re getting robbed.” Your combined laughter rings out through the trees.

June, 2023

You’ve managed to avoid any questions about your odd behavior, and it’s getting easier to act normal over time. A couple weeks have passed since your first meeting with Tessa, and you still feel like ripping your skin off when you see her touching Matthew, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it. It’s not your place to be upset, anyway.

The diner is bustling at this time of day, the tail end of lunch rush. You had to wait a little bit to get seated, but now you’re sitting at the end of a booth in a chair they’d pulled up to the edge to make up for all five of you not fitting into the booth. It makes you feel a little left out, the only one not paired off, a fifth wheel to the two couples on either side of the table. You block that out, a skill you’ve had for years, but have had to strengthen rapidly over the past few weeks.

Brady has an arm around Emma’s shoulders, and you can tell by the angle of Matthew’s arm that he has a hand on Tessa’s thigh. You remember when that was you, Matthew touching you so casually, so naturally. Sitting across from Matthew as he nudges your foot under the table, sitting next to him with your shoulders pressed together, fingers tangled together on the seat, where no one could see.

Emma is telling a story about a night out with some of her girlfriends, and you’re laughing along at the antics with everyone else. When she asks you about work, you try to clear the perpetual lump in your throat before answering, succeeding in sounding happy, though the tightness remains.

When your food arrives, you spend most of the time pushing it around your plate to make it look like you’re eating. You never have an appetite around Matthew anymore, weirdly embarrassed about being seen eating in a way you haven’t been since you were a teenager. You’ll take it home and eat it later, if you can stop thinking about Matthew for two fucking seconds.

You’re not sure how long that’s going to be impossible, but you hope it’s not much longer.

January, 2020

You’ve been to a few games when the boys have played the Blues, but you’ve never made the trip up to Canada to see them play each other before. Ottawa is nice, Brady and Emma having shown you around a little when you’d arrived. Your nerves had been shot from the anxiety of traveling abroad for the first time, even though it was just to Canada. The couple seemed to understand, only taking you around for a few hours before bringing you home.

Brady’s apartment is nice, really nice. He’s offered you the guest room for a few days, and you appreciate not having to pay for a hotel. He’ll be home for six days before he has to go to St. Louis for the All Star game, so you’d arranged to stay in Ottawa and fly back home with them.

Luckily, the cafe is pretty cool about rearranging your schedule, so you’ll just have to work some extra days when you go back to make up for what you’re missing. You’d asked for the days of the skills competition and game off as well, Brady having managed to get you a ticket. Your manager has always thought it was cool that you were friends with the Tkachuks, so she had agreed to give you the time off if you brought her a souvenir. Matthew and Brady had offered to sign a jersey for her without you even having to ask, and you’ll owe them for a while, though they insist you don’t.

Matthew gets in that first night, the three of you meeting him at his hotel. You’re not sure how he managed it, but he’ll be staying a few days instead of returning to Calgary with the team after the game. Maybe he got a special exception because this game is the last before All Star week, and he has to go to St. Louis anyway. No matter the reason, you’re glad he gets to stay.

The game the next night is exciting, and definitely worth the trip. With the Senators’ performance in recent years, it’s mostly the diehard fans left, so the atmosphere is electric. You get swept up in the passion and joy, especially when the game ends with a 5-2 win for Ottawa.

The boys have to debrief and get changed, which you know will take a while. Emma and you wait with the WAGs, Emma excited to introduce you to them. Some of them think you’re a new WAG at first, which is honestly kind of flattering. All of the ladies are surprisingly kind and welcoming, and you enjoy interacting with them as you all wait.

Matthew emerges first, guided down the hallway by one of the arena staff. His steps pick up pace when he sees you and Emma, and he shoots a quick thanks to the staff member before jogging over to the two of you. He immediately enfolds you in his arms, squeezing tight and holding longer than usual. You know it’s difficult for him to lose at all, let alone to his brother, so you let him hold you as long as he wants.

Once he lets you go, he meets your eyes. His smile is soft, tinged with a slight sadness that you want to wipe away.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” he greets, and your breath catches at the term of endearment. He’d started using it a few months ago, and it still makes your chest tight. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, but you still imagine sometimes that it does.

He turns his attention to Emma, giving her a hug as well, just one quick squeeze before releasing. The three of you start talking, waiting patiently for Brady. It doesn’t shock you that he takes so long to come out, knowing his unofficial position of leadership in the team. The guys come out one by one, hugging and kissing their wives and girlfriends, the number of ladies dwindling as they leave with their men.

When Brady finally emerges, he heads straight over to give Emma a hug and kiss. He hugs you next, before punching Matthew’s shoulder. They have a little back-and-forth as you all exit the arena, taking harmless jabs at each other all the way to the car.

The main issue with the living arrangements for the trip had been that Brady and Emma were going to have two guests and only one spare room. Matthew had offered to sleep on the couch, but he’s too tall for that, and you don’t want him to end up sore or hurting his neck during the season. You’d insisted that you’d sleep on the couch, but both Matthew and Brady had immediately vetoed that idea. Then you’d found out that the guest room has two twin beds instead of one bigger one, and the answer was simple.

Matthew sets his suitcase and backpack next to the door when you get home. You’ve already claimed the bed on the far side, so he gets set up on the one closer to the door. Emma and Brady are in the kitchen, making a post-game snack for everyone, so it’s just you and Matthew.

“You excited to be roomies for a week?” he asks, unzipping his suitcase. Yours is already open under the window, so you grab some pajamas out of it.

“Depends how loud you snore,” you tease. He shoots you a toothy smile.

“Oh, it’s gonna be loud,” he says. You chuckle a bit, knowing he’s joking. Emma calls for you, then, and you leave your clothes on the bed to go to her. The four of you converse as you eat, seated in a row at the kitchen island. You’ve got Matthew to one side and Brady to the other, and they take turns kicking your ankles. You kick back, grinning at Emma when she kicks Brady’s other side.

Brady and Matthew had already showered at the rink, so they sit in the living room while you and Emma get ready for bed. She uses the master suite, and you use the bathroom in the hall. It’s nice, if small, with a simple stall shower instead of a tub. You go through your routine on autopilot, only realizing when you’re done that you’d left your clothes in the bedroom. You wrap yourself in a towel, doing your best to sneak past the door to the living room.

When you look to make sure your stealth is working, you meet Matthew’s eyes. It stops you in your tracks. You can’t discern the look on his face, and you’re not sure that you care to. He shoots you an easy smile, and you wave at him like an idiot, acting on instinct. It only makes him smile wider, and you scurry off to the room.

After you’re dressed, there’s a knock on the door. Brady asks if you’re decent, and you confirm that you are, so he peeks his head in. Once he sees that you truly are dressed, he opens the door the rest of the way. He and Emma bid you good night, telling you to just ask if you need anything. You thank them and say good night in return, Matthew entering the room as soon as the other two retreat to their own room. He’s barely two steps into the room before he’s pulling off his shirt.

“Woah there, cowboy,” you say, holding up a hand in front of you. He just shrugs at you.

“Gotta get ready for bed,” he says, bending over and lifting his foot to remove his socks. You’d figured that he would wear a t-shirt and shorts to bed like you, but you should’ve guessed he’d be the type to sleep shirtless, no matter who’s around. He’s naked in front of thirty people every day, who cares about being shirtless?

You do your best to brush it off, turning down the covers of your bed so that you can crawl in. Normally, you would read for a bit before bed, but you’re tired enough tonight that you don’t think you need to. You pull the blankets up to your chin, turning on your side. Unfortunately, you sleep on your right, so you end up facing Matthew’s bed. Is that weird? Should you try sleeping the opposite direction?

Matthew doesn’t say anything, flicking the lights off and crawling into bed. He sleeps on his left, apparently, so he’s facing you too. That’s a little awkward, right? As your eyes adjust to the dark, you’re able to see the glint of his teeth as he smiles over at you.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he says quietly. You return the sentiment, grateful that the darkness means he probably can’t fully see the embarrassment on your face. You’re backlit by the window, so you convince yourself that he can’t.

The next morning, you wake to Matthew already out of bed, stretching. Your eyes roam his back, taking in the dips and ridges of his muscles. Only at the last second do you realize that his head is turned to the side, and he’s staring at you through the corner of his eye. You quickly avert your gaze, turning to sit bolt upright on the other side of the bed, facing the window.

The four of you spend the day exploring the city, Brady and Emma seeming to have planned what they want to show you. It’s nice, peaceful and fun. You make them take pictures with you in front of landmarks or cool art pieces, all of you squished together to fit in the selfie.

It isn’t until the fourth night that anything out of the ordinary happens. You’re lying in bed, having turned on your back to stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You probably shouldn’t have had that affogato after dinner, though usually they don’t bother you this much. No matter how long you toss and turn, how many sleeping positions you try, you can’t even make yourself tired, let alone actually fall asleep.

“What are you, a rotisserie chicken?” Matthew asks rhetorically, breaking the silence. His voice is hushed, but it still startles you. You turn your head to stare at him, finding him staring right back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sheepish, “I can’t sleep.” Matthew’s lips quirk up at one end.

“Me either,” he says, sitting up. You mimic his posture, then scoot back to lean against the headboard. He slings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, and you think for a second that he’s going to turn on the light. Instead, he takes the two steps to your bed, motioning to the mattress. You nod, prompting him to start shoving your shoulder, bullying you into making space for him. You giggle, trying to keep quiet to respect the late hour.

“So,” he leads, taking a long moment to just stare at you before continuing, “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You’re taken off guard by the request, not sure how to respond.

“I was an Aaron Carter girl growing up,” you pull out of thin air. Matthew’s face breaks into a wide smile, sunshine in the middle of the night.

“Really?” he asks. You nod, mumbling “yeah” in confirmation. That’s all it takes to get you both talking. You trade off back and forth, telling each other small things about yourself that may not come up otherwise, launching into short discussions about some of the statements.

“My favorite color is red,” he says at one point, when you’re starting to think you may fall asleep.

“I thought it was blue?” you reply, remembering Chantal mention that at some point. Matthew starts fiddling with his hands.

“I tell people it’s blue, but it’s really red,” he says. You tilt your head an inch or two, furrowing your brow at him.

“Why?” you ask. He ducks his head.

“Red is an angry color,” he explains, voice quieter than before, “With my reputation, I don’t want people to associate me with an aggressive color. I don’t want to play into the stereotype.” You hum, looking forward. It feels like this isn’t the best time to look at him, like he’ll clam up if you witness his vulnerability.

“It’s also the color of vitality, excitement, love,” you counter, leaving just a breath of a pause, “It’s a good color for you.” The entire room is still for a dragging moment, before Matthew gently knocks your shoulders together.

“What about you?” he asks when you look back to him. There’s a fraction of a change in his face, but you don’t comment on it.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still sitting up, head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, his head laying on top of yours. You suppress the instinct to startle, not wanting to disrupt him, lest he wake up and move. His skin is warm under your cheek, your arms lined up from shoulder to the knuckles of your fingers. You close your eyes again, trying to keep your breathing steady, as if you’re still sleeping. You’ve been trying so hard to keep distance between Matthew and yourself, but you’ll allow yourself to enjoy this, just for a moment longer.

There’s a shift in Matthew’s breathing, his fingers twitching against yours. It settles after a second, into a different pattern, intentionally deep and even. You’re sure that he’s awake, that he’s doing the same thing that you are. You’re not sure what to do with that information.

The rest of the trip goes by smoothly, Brady and Emma showing you both the touristy things and the better local spots around the city. If the same thing happens the next night, and the night after that, you and Matthew talking in low voices until you fall asleep against each other, neither of you mention it.

April, 2020

While the initial prediction for lockdown was that it would only last a month, it’s clear that it’s going to last much, much longer.

It’s probably lucky that you’d just started a new job, one that can be done remotely, rather than either working at the coffee shop or being laid off. It’s not exactly what you want to do, but it’s at least in the artistic field, so you try to be grateful anyway. It’s difficult being locked away in your apartment, but you’re grateful that you’re luckier than essential workers and people who are losing their jobs altogether.

The thing that keeps you sane in all of this is your phone. More specifically, it’s your friends. You’ve developed almost a schedule with it, calling Terri in the morning for an hour or so before work. At lunch, you facetime Brady and Emma for another hour, not envying them being stuck so far from home. It must be hard to be in an entirely different country than your family.

The highlight of each day is the evening, when you facetime Matthew. Though he spends most of the day sending you videos and memes and updates about whatever little thing he’s doing at the moment, it’s still nice to talk to him out loud. Seeing his face helps your growing loneliness a little bit.

You’re in your living room, your phone propped up against the arm of the couch as you show off the few things you’ve made since picking up crochet a couple weeks ago. Matthew compliments each of them, commending you for your improvement. He’s the only one you’ve shown, too embarrassed to let anyone else see the wonky scarves with uneven stitches.

“You have time to work on any paintings lately?” he asks, once you’re done your little show and tell. The truth is that you’ve got three new canvases drying in the kitchen. The truth is also that the man asking about them is the inspiration for their creation. There’s nothing incriminating about them; it’s not like they’re portraits of him or something. But you’re still hesitant to show him, because even if he doesn’t know, you do.

You show him anyway. The painting of the park is his favorite, and you wonder if he knows that it’s the one you went to for your first time alone together. It’s mostly dark, greens and blues so deep they look black, yellow triangles of light splitting the canvas into section. If you look closely enough, the brush strokes fill in the details of the trees, the grass, the pavement. Your phone camera isn’t good enough for Matthew to see that, but he compliments it anyway.

“You should paint me something for my apartment,” he says after you show him all three. You’re not opposed to the idea, actually enjoy the thought of something you made being showcased in his home.

“What do you want?” you ask, a hundred ideas already flitting through your mind. The only way you’ve seen his apartment is through the background of pictures he sends you sometimes, or little glimpses you catch as he walks around while you facetime. You’re not entirely sure of the vibe, but you’re sure you can figure something out.

“What makes you think of me?” he asks in return. You stop in your tracks in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The hand holding your phone lowers a couple inches unintentionally, your gaze drifting above the screen, staring into the middle distance. What makes you think of him? Hockey, obviously. Family. Curling up under a blanket on a cold night. Laying on the couch with your feet up on the armrest, your head propped up on a pillow, a sad replacement for his lap. Spruce trees, gold, pitbulls, mushroom pizza, black eyes– both the drink and the wound.

Everything. Everything makes you think of him.

You can’t say that, obviously. You search your brain for something personal but innocuous, something sentimental but still acceptable. You think of all the time that you two have spent together over the past few years, memories springing up, some that you’d even forgotten about. Some that you’ll never be able to forget about.

“Can I surprise you?” you ask. You’re given that familiar smile in response, any iteration of which makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Yeah,” he says, propping his face up with one hand on his jaw, “I trust you.”

July, 2023

Some people may say that Terri’s apartment is cluttered, but you just find it cozy. She has decorations and knick-knacks on every surface, but the comfiest couch you’ve ever sat on. That’s where you are now, stretched out with your back against the side, Terri mimicking your posture at the other end, your legs tangled together in the middle.

“We should see the Barbie movie when it comes out,” she says, unprompted. You look up from the hook and yarn in your hands, tipping your head to the side for a second and shrugging.

“It looks good,” you say, an indirect agreement. You haven’t been to the movies since before lockdown, so it might be nice to go back.

“D’you think Gabe would want to come?” she asks cautiously, “He could bring the kids.” The mention of your brother still makes ice crawl in your chest, but it’s not as bad as it once was. He’d reached out last year, trying to reconnect with you, and apparently your other brother too. You’ve only seen him a few times since, but it’s more than you’d seen him in the four years prior, combined.

“It’s worth a shot, right?” Terri asks, eyes flicking toward your phone sitting on the coffee table. You look toward it as well, debating for a second. It would be nice to see your nieces and nephews, but it also hurts that they barely know who you are.

“Yeah,” you agree after a second, “Worth a shot.” You grab your phone, feeling as if it’s going to explode in your hands if you move too quickly. There are a few notifications when you wake the screen, which you ignore to unlock it. You open your texts, backing out of your thread with Terri from earlier. You have a picture message from Brady, just a selfie of him and Emma smiling, which you send a heart in response to. Backing out of that thread, you see another new message, underneath the contact name you haven’t had the heart to change. The red and purple hearts next to his name– each of your favorite colors– having been there so long that getting rid of them feels wrong, no matter how it makes your chest hurt to see them.

Can we talk?

You tap the back button as quickly as you can. You can’t respond. You should, to be polite, but you can’t. If you do, you’ll say something you regret. It’ll probably be agreement or the words “eat shit”, and either option will get you into trouble. You can’t respond. You want so badly to talk to him. You want so desperately to go back in time and never meet him.

Your fingers tremble as you draft a text to your brother, typing and deleting and re-typing a few times before you settle on the wording. You have more important things to worry about than Matthew.

August, 2020

The bubble was an interesting idea. It may not be the best idea in the world, despite the safety precautions, but you know Matthew is just happy to be back on the ice. He’s already sent you a dozen pictures of the hotel, of him with his teammates and friends, masked up together in the lobby. You tell him to tell the boys that you say hello, and he texts you each of their responses.

The first round goes well, the Flames only losing one game to the Jets. You know Matthew had been worried about going through all the rules and protocols just to be eliminated immediately, so you’re glad that that isn’t the case.

The series against the Stars starts out with an exciting back-and-forth, the teams trading off wins. Then the Stars win game 5, breaking the pattern. You’re not expecting the last game to actually be the last, convinced that the Flames would at least make it to a game seven. But the Stars pull a decisive 7-3 win, the Flames falling apart in the second period and unable to get themselves back together.

Matthew has called you as soon as he got back to his hotel room after every game, so you’re expecting your phone to ring some time in the next hour or two. You putter around the apartment a little, putting away some dishes and wiping down the kitchen counters. You’d been painting during the game, a commission from a friend of a friend of a friend. You return to that, losing yourself in the meticulous movements of your brush.

It feels like it’s been too long. You try to focus on the canvas in front of you, but there’s a nagging sense in the back of your mind that something is wrong. It sits heavy at the base of your skull as you try to ignore it.

Eventually, it becomes too much. You check your phone to make sure that you haven’t missed his call, but there are no notifications. It’s been a little over two hours. You unlock your phone and pull up his contact in a second, pressing the video icon. Typically, he’ll pick up after one or two rings, but you hear the third ring, the fourth. The call disconnects, shock shooting up your spine. It only lasts a second, your phone ringing with a voice call almost immediately.

“Hey sweet girl,” Matthew greets you in his typical fashion as soon as you accept the call. There’s something off about his voice, and it takes you a second to realize what it is.

“Hey there, darling,” you respond, voice as gentle as you can manage. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Matthew cry, but it breaks your heart every time. As much as he tries to seem tough and aloof, you know how deeply losses like this affect him. Now it makes sense that he didn’t want video involved.

“How are you?” he asks, clearly moving his face away from the receiver as he sniffles, but you can still hear it. You move to the couch, sinking into the cushions, as if you’re as crushed as he is.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “You holding up okay?” You know he’ll say that he’s fine, but you also know that he’s not. He may not be for a while. There’s a pause, a long stretch of silence, only interrupted by his deep, labored breaths.

“I wish you were here,” he says. He sounds absolutely miserable, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. The urge to hold him is overwhelming, your arms buzzing with the desire to wrap around him. You want to pull him down into your lap, let him tuck his head into the crook of your neck, let him cry on you as you scratch his scalp and kiss his head. Lockdown isn’t the only reason that can’t happen.

“I’m going to hug you so hard,” you insist, “As soon as I can see you again.”

July, 2023

While you’re still a third wheel with Brady and Emma, it’s better than being a fifth wheel with the entire group. You’d asked Taryn if she wanted to tag along, but she has training to do. Brady had already done his that morning, so he’s free for the rest of the day, and had invited you to spend some time together.

You’re certain that he doesn’t know how you feel about this place, how much it hurts to be here. As far as he’s aware, this is your favorite park, the one you visit with Matthew at least a few times a month every summer. He probably thinks it’s a great choice, something to cheer you up from the slump you know he’s noticed.

Despite the memories tugging at you from every direction, you’re mostly in a good mood. You’d gotten excellent news the day before yesterday, an opportunity you’ve dreamed of for a long time. You wanted to text Brady right after the meeting to tell him, but you’d decided it was better to share it with him and Emma in person. You’re debating something that absolutely doesn’t matter, all of you talking over each other. You’re waiting for the right moment to change the conversation. It doesn’t come until almost an hour into your walk, but you jump on it as soon as it does.

“I have some cool news,” you say, breaking the silent pause that had fallen over the group.

“Well?” Emma replies, “Go on.” The excitement is bubbling up inside of you again at the thought of it, your stomach turning, your chest too full.

“You know that gallery downtown that I love?” you ask, continuing after they agree, “I’m going to do a show there.” They stop in their tracks, Emma immediately enfolding you in her arms. You hug her back, squeezing tight as she bounces on her toes. When she pulls back, she holds your face in her hands, voice high and thrilled as she congratulates you. The smile on your face is unavoidable, happiness from the news mingling with the happiness of your friends being proud of you.

“Cool news, huh?” Brady asks, lightly smacking your shoulder as he says, “What an understatement.” The circle of his arms feels safe, his chest warm against your cheek as he holds you tight. The look on his face when he releases you is the best reaction you’ve gotten so far, his pride meaning more than anyone else’s.

“When is it?” he asks, taking Emma’s hand in his own once again and resuming the walk. You follow along, too excited to be self-conscious of the visible skip in your step.

“August 20th,” you say. There’s an unspoken question there, a silent invitation. You don’t want him to feel pressured to come, knowing that despite how supportive he is of your artistic endeavors, he’s not big on things like art shows. In the end, you don’t have to ask.

“You know we’re coming, right?” he asks, aiming a crooked smile at you, “You can’t stop us.” Though the smile hasn’t left your face since you brought up the topic, it gets brighter in return.

“I’d never dream of trying to,” you reply, and you mean it.

October, 2020

It’s odd to have the boys around at this time of year, the season usually taking them away at the end of August. You’re grateful for it, though. It means that you get to spend time with them, lockdown finally over, freeing you from the confines of your apartment. Your job has stayed remote, so you’re able to be around even more, saving time on what used to be an hour long commute each way.

Right now, it’s you and the boys, Emma, and Terri. You’d introduced her to them less than a month ago, but they already love her, just as you knew they would. She doesn’t always come around with you, considering how you spend nearly every day at the Tkachuks’, but she has some time today.

After twenty minutes of debating what you should watch, you all agree on a true crime documentary. You’ve given up your chair for Terri, squishing yourself onto the couch with Brady and Emma, pressing your cold feet against her leg and laughing when she yelps. She kicks you, only serving to make you laugh harder. Brady playfully threatens to fight you to defend his woman’s honor, and you put your fists up in front of you, jabbing out into the air as if you’re going to take him up on the offer. He chuckles, reaching out to fist bump you instead of punch. You drop your hands, looking past his big ass head.

Matthew is lounging in the second chair, the leg rest of the recliner up despite his legs being crossed under him. It’s the only way the chair will lean back, he’d told you once, and he doesn’t like sitting upright.

The smile on his face isn’t the wide grin you’d expected. It’s small, a gentle turn of the lips. Combined with the look he’s giving you– something unfocused, something unbearably soft– it implies an emotion that you know can’t be the correct interpretation. You swallow hard, turning your eyes back to Brady.

“Press play already, nerd,” you demand, tone playful enough to show that you don’t mean it. He sticks his tongue out at you, but does as he’s told.

Five minutes in, you glance over at Matthew, finding him already looking at you. You look away, slightly embarrassed to be caught. Another five minutes later, you can’t help but peek back at him again, as if your eyes are magnetized to him. It’s almost disappointing that he’s actually looking at the screen. It only takes a second for his eyes to move to the side, peering at you in his peripheral. The corner of his lips quirks up the tiniest bit, almost unnoticeable. But you notice.

You only make it maybe half an hour into the film before Matthew leans forward and snatches the remote from its place next to Brady. The plaintive sound Brady lets out is kind of funny, but you seem to think everything is funny today. Matthew pauses the show, declaring that the group needs snacks.

“Y/N, come give me a hand,” he says, beckoning you to follow him. You grumble a bit, but stand and follow him up the stairs and out of the den. He leads the way through the living room and into the kitchen. They’re fancy, so they have a walk-in pantry, of course. The two of you enter one after another. You start looking at the snack section, deciding what to grab. The good thing about being the one to retrieve the food is that you get to choose whatever you want and there’s nothing the others can say about it.

You’re rifling through the chips and pretzels when you feel a presence close behind you. It’s obviously Matthew, but he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his body radiating into your back. His left hand comes into your field of vision, pressing to the shelves next to your head. You twist your neck to look back at him, confused as to what he’s doing.

You’re not expecting the look he’s giving you. His eyes dark, completely focused in on your face. Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth without your permission. He’s not smiling, his lips parted just a fraction of an inch.

He rests his right hand on your shoulder, using it to turn your entire body around to face him. You can feel how dumbfounded your expression is as you stare up at him, your brow furrowed, your mouth slightly agape. He returns the gesture of looking at your mouth, his tongue quickly flicking out to wet his lips. He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. You would let him.

There’s a long, unbearable stretch of silence as the two of you just stare at each other, faces only a scant few inches apart. If this were anyone else, you would know exactly what’s going on, exactly what they want. But this is Matthew, your insanely wonderful, insanely hot, insanely out of your league friend. There’s no chance that he’s about to do what it feels like he is. No matter how many times you steal glances at each other, how closely he holds you, how many times he allows himself to be vulnerable with you, there’s no chance he’d ever want you. And just as you tell yourself that, he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his breath brushing across your lips from the proximity. Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open wider in shock. You’ve spent the last two years valiantly suppressing any type of attraction you have to him, trying to respect his station as your best friend’s brother. And now, in just four words, he’s let it all loose. It floods you inside, so overwhelming, so much to take all at once that it triggers a full system reset. You swear your heart stops, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to tear the words from your lagging brain.

The words won’t come. The look on Matthew’s face is changing, something embarrassed, something guilty. He moves back an inch and you reach out, unwilling to let him go. You cup his face in your hands, pulling him in to press your lips together.

It’s lingering, almost chaste, and entirely sensational. Your lips are tingling, sparks shooting down your spine. Your chest feels cracked open, your innards exposed for his inspection, your true self exposed for his judgment.

When you pull back and open your eyes, his are still closed. He looks like he’s in heaven, like he’s trying to imprint this moment in his mind the same way that you are. After a moment, his eyelids slide up and he looks at you again. His eyes are hazy, unfocused, his blown pupils leaving only a thin ring of blue around the edge of his iris.

“Again,” he says, breathless, “Please.”

Who are you to deny him?

The second kiss is as good as the first, your breath abandoning your body to pant out against his lips. You meet again, his tongue flicking out for half a second to touch your top lip. It makes you breath hitch, makes you kiss him again, makes you gently bite his full bottom lip. The sound he lets out is barely audible, but it only feeds the fire inside of you, an inferno that blazes up from your hips to your throat. You cradle his face in your hands, hold just strong enough to move his head how you want, to slot your mouths together perfectly each time.

“Hurry up, asshole!”

Brady’s shout violently snaps you out of your haze. You jerk backward, trying to step away, but already pressed against the shelves. Matthew doesn’t seem as put off as you, smiling as if nothing happened. You relinquish your hold on his face, dropping your hands to your sides. His hands had wandered as you kissed, one on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. He squeezes once at the base of your skull, dipping in to give you one last quick kiss.

After frantically grabbing random snacks, you return to the den. You can feel how hot your face is, and you can only hope that it’s not too obvious how flustered you are. You and Matthew deposit the snacks on the coffee table, everyone immediately selecting one. You curl back up in your chair, legs pulled up to your chest as you lay sideways, head on the armrest.

Every time your eyes drift to Matthew for the rest of the evening, he’s looking back.

January, 2021

Just as the day the boys come home is the best day of the year, the day they leave for the season is the worst. Sometimes you wish you were Emma, that you could follow them back and forth and never be without them. But St. Louis is your home, is where you have a job and friends and more recently, family.

You’d helped both boys pack for the past few days, but you won’t be able to go along to drop them off at the airport. When Matthew had left for the playoffs, Emma had offered you her spot in the car. You’d told her that she didn’t have to, but she’d assured you she wanted it that way. She has to go along this time, so the car is already overpacked. Besides, you have to work that morning anyway.

You still show up at the Tkachuks’ beforehand, so early that the sun hasn’t made an appearance yet. Matthew had forgotten to pack his favorite sweater, of course. You fish it out from where it had fallen under his bed, straightening up to hold it out to him. He thanks you, deciding to wear it for the flight instead of shoving it into one of his bags. It looks good on him. Cozy.

Brady and Emma are double checking their room as well, one door down from you. Keith, Chantal, and Taryn are down in the living room, waiting as patiently as they’re capable of, which isn’t very much.

Being alone with Matthew used to be exciting, used to make your heart change its rhythm, used to start up a buzz under your skin. Now, it’s just… comfortable. Safe. Right.

When Matthew approaches you, crowding up into your space, you know exactly what he wants. The first time you’d kissed should have been the last. You’re too drawn to him, feel too much toward him, more than you should. More than he will ever return. The two of you haven’t discussed exactly what you’re doing here, but it’s clearly meant to be casual. Matthew isn’t typically the kind to shy away from voicing what he wants, and he hasn’t spoken up to define anything.

Is that what you want? You’re not sure. Making out like teenagers for months has been nice, has satisfied a part of you. But only a part.

You’re avoiding thinking about what you want, too afraid of what you’ll find. Some part of you, buried deep inside, hidden behind a recently built wall, already knows. If you allow yourself to acknowledge it, this will end badly. If you allow yourself to want, you’ll destroy yourself in the process.

The kisses he lays on your lips stay sweet, gentle presses, just a tease of tongue here and there. His arms are wrapped around you, resting on your shoulders, while your hands rest on his hips. You haven’t progressed past kissing, and you’re not sure if he wants anything beyond this. You’ll take what you can get.

Keith calls up the stairs for you to hurry up, lest the boys miss their flights. Matthew leaves one last peck on your lips, just as he always does before you part. You glance around his room a final time, making sure everything is packed. You help him bring his bags downstairs, help him and Emma get their things outside and into the car. You’ll have to go home as soon as they depart, and you’re actually a little grateful that you have work to distract you from the first hours of missing them.

As per usual, Emma is the first to hug you. You squeeze tight so that you can lift her off of her feet for a second, just to make her laugh. Brady grabs you next, as if both of them know that Matthew wants to be last. Brady wiggles you side to side, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You headbutt his shoulder, then kiss the same spot you’d hit. He says how much he’ll miss you, something he always reiterates for a few days before he leaves. You return the sentiment honestly, earnestly. When he pulls back, you punch his chest lightly, and he returns the gesture.

Matthew steps up and opens his arms, and you step into them easily. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, just holds you close, hand cupping the back of your neck, calming your anxiety and dulling the sharp edge of your pain.

“Gonna miss you so much, sweet girl,” he whispers into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. You try to swallow the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat.

“Miss you already,” you reply, a little uneven, a little raw, “Can’t wait to see you again.” He places a kiss on your head as Brady had, but his lips linger, hesitant to let go. But he does let go.

They all wave as they drive off, Brady, Emma, Matthew, and Taryn all crammed into the back seat. You wave back, watching the car go, staring down the street even after the car turns and disappears.

Time to work, you suppose.

July, 2023

Art has never frustrated you so much in your life.

When you were young, the struggle and annoyance came from trying to get things just right, though they were above your skill level. As a teenager, it was due to the struggle of developing your own unique style. In college, it was not having the energy to paint most days, falling asleep at the easel others.

For the past month, the art has been flowing. You’ve been painting most every day, the ideas coming easily, creating almost a compulsion that you can’t resist. It’s only satisfied when the painting is complete. There are a couple dozen or so canvases scattered around your apartment to dry, the most you’ve ever produced in a single month. But the frustration– the frustration comes from the fact that all of your ideas are about him. All of your paintings are moments with him, things he’d said, how you’d felt, how you’d hoped he felt.

There’s a feeling inside of you, as if you’re right on the edge of catharsis, as if you paint just one more thing, you’ll be able to let it all go. That’s your motivation for everything you’ve been making, just desperately searching for the release that will save you from the pain. At this point, you’re not sure it will ever come.

You’re working on a bigger canvas, the biggest you’ve used in years. You’re glad your current job allowed you to move into a bigger apartment, because you surely wouldn’t have been able to fit something like this in your old shoebox, packed so full of your things that you’d barely had space for an 11x14. You have to stand to reach the upper portion, swiping a brighter red over the dark red base. You don’t want it to be about him. It is anyway.

The show at the gallery is rapidly approaching, only a month away. You’ve been working with the curator to decide which pieces to use, filing through years of work. So far, everything that she’s found compelling has been about him. Things you’ve made recently, things you made years ago when things were still good. One day, you’ll get over this. But not today. Today still just hurts.

June, 2021

With neither of the boys making the playoffs, they’d come home earlier than usual this year. Sadly, Brady is pretty used to it by now, usually coming home around this time anyway. You’re used to getting a few weeks with Brady and Emma before Matthew comes home, but you don’t have that this year.

While Brady sulks for about two days when he gets home, Matthew is far more upset. The Flames had made the playoffs for the last couple years, and he was getting used to being a contender. So not even getting a chance at it this year clearly stung. He moped around for a week or two, face tight and arms crossed over his chest most of the time. The only time he let his arms down, let his guard down, is when the two of you were alone.

You’d comforted him through the couple weeks of upset, even staying the night a few times. It wasn’t intentional, you’d just stayed so late that you fell asleep, and Matthew didn’t have the heart to wake you. You have to get up early to get home for work, so you’d snuck your way out of the house before anyone else had woken. You’re not sure how Keith and Chantal would have felt about you staying the night in Matthew’s bed, but you know what they would have thought was going on, and you didn’t want to put yourself or Matthew in that position.

Once he’d relaxed, taken a deep breath and accepted defeat, he went back to being his regular happy, seemingly aloof self. You’re grateful for it, not a fan of seeing him upset and always wanting to help him through and cheer him up.

June had come kindly, bringing along more sun and nicer weather. You and Matthew had resumed your walks in the park, and the whole group of you spend about as much time outside as you do in the den. Things with Matthew had picked up where they left off in January, him pulling you into a secluded area any time he could get you alone, kissing you senseless. You’d missed the feeling of his lips, of his body pressed to yours.

Tonight is one of the more rare nights where Matthew comes to your apartment, instead of you going to his parents’ house. You’ve offered to make dinner and follow it up with movies. You’re already on the couch, your dirty dishes abandoned on the coffee table. You’re laying on your side, Matthew spooned up against your back, your knees hanging off of the couch with the way they’re bent to accommodate Matthew’s too-long legs. You’re warm and comfortable, enjoying the feeling of safety that he brings, something you’ve very rarely felt in your life before.

The movie is good, but you’ve found that being in Matthew’s arms makes you sleepy, so you’re having a hard time focusing. You manage to mostly follow it, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn when the credits start to roll.

You feel Matthew place a kiss on the back of your neck without comment. Then he’s moving you, rearranging your bodies carefully until you’re on your back, Matthew staring down at you from his position straddling your thigh. The way he’s looking at you is intense, somehow simultaneously fond and hungry. It wakes you up almost instantly, and you reach out to rest your hands on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, reverently. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it feels different now. Maybe it’s the position you’re in, maybe the way he’s looking down at you as if he wants you, as if he–

He takes your hands in his own, bending down as he brings them up to cradle his cheeks. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, tilt his head up a little by the jaw as his eyes slide shut. You press your fingers into the soft spot behind his jaw, under his ears, pull him down, down, down.

Kissing him feels as easy as breathing. Guiding his head this way and that to get a better angle, pressing your lips together over and over, longer each time, deeper. Matthew has one hand on the arm of the couch to hold himself up, the other wrapped loosely around your wrist. He’s not trying to move you or take control, just holding on as if he needs something to ground him. You press your thumbs into the hollows of his cheeks, feeling the solid wall of his teeth under the skin. His mouth drops open and he lets out a soft sound. You press your thumbs in harder, between the new gap between his upper and lower teeth, testing how far you can push from the outside.

He squeezes your wrist once and you release the pressure. His mouth stays open, lips wet and shining. He opens his eyes halfway, as if his eyelids are too heavy to get all the way up, eyes hazy and unfocused.

Again, he squeezes your wrist. He’s suddenly standing, using his grip to guide you up as well. He immediately crowds up against you, as if being more than an inch away will kill him. His eyes have managed to refocus, but there’s still a dreamy look in them.

He takes a step backward, using the hand that had instinctively gone to the back of your neck to bring you with him. He kisses you, lingering. He takes another step back, gives you another kiss. He rounds the end of the couch and you realize where he’s leading you, kind of impressed that he can find his way to the bedroom without even looking.

Of course, your heart is a frantic mouse scurrying around your chest, thumping hard like you’re a prey animal facing down a predator. But as much as it freaks out in the cage of your chest, there’s no panic in your head. Being with Matthew calms your mind, keeps your hands from trembling, feels so right that you can’t find a reason for the anxiety that used to plague you around him.

He stops you halfway between the door and the bed, pulling back a couple inches to stare down at you. You’re hesitant to put a name to the look on his face, not sure if reverent is being dramatic.

You flatten your palms against the front of his shoulders, shoving him gently, bullying him toward the bed. He allows it for a moment, but stops after a few steps. He takes your hands in his own, brings them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. You try to swallow down the desire that grows inside of you, threatening to spill out. He holds your hands close to his face, enough that you can feel his lips move when he speaks.

“You don’t have to be in control, sweet girl,” he says, lays another kiss on the bump of your right middle finger, looks deep into your eyes with such adoration you feel ready to split at the seams.

“Let me take care of you,” he says. The part of you that’s spent your entire life with a fist clenched desperately around any sense of control that it could find, for the first time, relinquishes its hold. And Matthew does, indeed, take care of you.

February, 2022

It’s your first time in Vegas, and the atmosphere is electric. There are hockey fans everywhere, plenty of people wearing jerseys as they explore the strip. Everything is so big, so bright, so fancy. As exciting as it is to be here, it makes you feel a little off, a little like you don’t belong. It reminds you of the first time you’d been to the Tkachuks’ house, amazed at how different everything is from the way you grew up.

Each player was supposed to be allotted two tickets, but they had allowed Brady to take additional tickets for his family, considering Matthew is his brother, in addition to how well-known and beloved Keith is. He’d managed to get Emma included as well, luckily.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but Brady had gotten another player to give one of his tickets so that you could come. Apparently the guy’s family couldn’t make the trip, and he only had one friend that he really wanted to bring. He won’t tell you who it was, but the way that Timo Meier winks at you as he passes the stands gives you an idea. You weren’t aware that the two talked, but there’s always the possibility that he had just gone around and asked everyone. The idea makes something bloom in your chest, as if you could love Brady more than you already do. You’ll have to find a way to thank Timo some time.

The skills competitions are fun, though Brady doesn’t win anything. It’s nice to see the players relaxing and having fun, a well-deserved break from the stress of the season.

You all go out to an early meal before the games the next day. You don’t realize until you arrive that Jack Hughes and his family were joining you, and you trip over your own feet when you see them waiting for you. You’re a huge fan of Jack’s, but more than that, Ellen Weinberg-Hughes is an icon. You stumble with your words when you greet her, shaking her hand and screaming silently in your head. With how the boys are looking at you as you do so, they obviously anticipated your reaction and are incredibly satisfied with themselves.

For the meal, you’re sat between Matthew and Jack. You’re grateful that Matthew is next to you, needing his calming presence as you meet some of your favorite players. The families are friendly with each other, the parents catching up on the news of each others’ lives, the children doing the same in separate conversations.

You spend most of the dinner talking to Jack, Quinn, and Matthew. They tell you all sorts of things, including embarrassing stories about Matthew that you weren’t privy to. You grin at Matthew every time they share one, absolutely intending to tease him about it later. This seems to be what the Hughes boys want, eager to give you more ammunition. Matthew buries his face in his hands at one particularly humiliating story, even as he shakes gently with quiet laughter. When he emerges and sits back up, you take a chance, placing your hand on his thigh. You squeeze once, trying to reassure him. He does his best to not react, but he also rests his hand on top of yours under the table.

“So you’re a painter, right?” Quinn asks at one point, curiosity evident in his perpetually sleepy eyes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, asking “How did you know?” You’d told them about your official job, but you hadn’t mentioned being a traditional artist in addition to a graphic designer. Jack turns a smug smile on you.

“Matthew talks about you a lot,” he says, pleased with himself. You look to Matthew just in time to see his face flush.

“Shut up,” he says to Jack, which only makes him smile wider. Jack’s attitude rubs off on you a little, and you give Matthew a delighted smile.

“How much is a lot?” you ask Jack, feeling Matthew dig his fingertips into your knuckles.

“Like, a lot,” Jack replies, Quinn nodding from his other side. You look back to Matthew, who looks like he wants to crawl under the table and hide.

“I talk about him a lot, too,” you say. That makes Matthew look at you again, bright eyes nearly sparkling in the restaurant’s dim lighting. His expression shifts, a small, grateful smile scrunching his eyes up the slightest bit.

After dinner, you all make your way to the arena. Brady and Jack left a while before the rest of you, needing to arrive in time to get dressed and likely do some more media. Before he’d left, Jack had requested your phone, creating a contact for himself and inputting his number. As he dud, you turned your face away, toward Matthew, opening your mouth wide as if you’re screaming. He looked amused at it, but there’s a sharp edge there. Quinn took the phone next, doing the same thing. You squeezed Matthew’s thigh again, and his expression softened. You’ve been following the Hughes brothers since they were in Juniors, and having them like you enough to want to keep in touch– you can only describe the feeling as elation.

The lines are out the door at the arena, and a few people catch the boys to request photos before you can get to the special entrance for players’ guests. They’re all very kind and courteous about it, taking a few pictures with people, finding a way to move through the crowd even as they do so. You probably should have come a different way, or maybe gotten there earlier, but as long as the boys don’t mind, you don’t either.

The seats are good, the second row of the first balcony. It seems to be the section that they put all of the family and friends, people milling around and chatting with each other. You spot Johnny’s parents a couple rows away, the only people around that you’ve met before. You wave to them and they return the gesture. They make their way down to your seats, greeting each of you in turn. They start chatting with Keith and Chantal, so you continue talking to Taryn and Emma.

The games are great, surprisingly fast. The Atlantic division plays a great game again Central, despite losing by 3. You still can’t help being proud of Brady. You’ve been next to him since his first season, and you’ve loved getting to watch him grow and improve. As long as he’s in the world, you’re going to be proud of him.

The final is awesome too, and you jump up to cheer when Jack scores in the first. When the Metropolitan wins, you high-five Taryn, glad that Jack could win when Brady couldn’t. Not a bad consolation prize.

The group hangs around for a while after, and you get to meet a bunch of new people. Everyone is so nice, making you feel welcome, feel like you belong. When you finally start up the stairs to leave, Johnny’s mom Jane stops you for a second. She pinches your jersey and gives you a sly smile.

“Just a family friend?” she asks, not a question but a suggestion. A few years back, Matthew had given you one of his jerseys to wear to a game, and you’ve worn it tonight, despite him not playing. You realize now how it could be interpreted, ducking your head for a second to smile at the floor, before looking back up to Jane.

“Just a family friend,” you say, firm and definitive. She holds your gaze for a moment, looks behind her at Matthew, who’s waiting patiently a few steps up. He’s looking at you, that soft look he gives you sometimes. After a second, he smiles brightly at Jane. She waves and turns back to you.

“We’ll see,” she says. She pats your shoulder twice before making her own way up the stairs with Guy. Once you process the statement, you shake your head and make your way up to Matthew.

“What was that?” he asks as you enter the corridor. There’s no way you can tell him the truth, and honestly, you’re not sure what the fuck that was either. You just shrug at him, continuing your way out of the arena.

The comment sticks with you, no matter how you try to brush it off. Johnny is Matthew’s best friend, and you’ve met Jane a few times before. If it had been a stranger, you would’ve dismissed it outright. But to hear it from someone who actually knows the two of you? That’s harder to let go.

July, 2023

Laurel, the curator for the gallery hosting your show, is a lovely woman. She’s also very, very good at her job. You’ve been to countless shows at this gallery, and they’re always perfectly compiled, excellently arranged. You’ve brought her your most recent paintings today, which makes you glad that you have a car, because hauling them through the city would be a nightmare.

The only problem you have with Laurel is that she seems to see straight through you. You’re not used to someone looking past the professional figure you present, let alone someone seeing every part of you that you put into your art.

She’s staring at your offerings, examining every last detail. She’s already chosen about half of the pieces that will be displayed, creating a theme with your relatively impressionist style. She moves one canvas to the side, away from the others. She takes an extra few minutes to consider one of them, the largest one. It just finished drying yesterday. Having to see it every day as you passed it in the living room has been torture.

“Everything except that one,” she says, gesturing to the one she’d set aside. If she wants all of these, that’s likely going to be everything for the show. With everything else she’s chosen, this is all they have the wall space for, considering the way that you’ve seen Laurel arrange the art in previous shows you’d attended.

“That one is the centerpiece,” she adds, hand against her cheek as she continues staring at the large canvas. You swallow hard. Of course. Of course every painting she likes is about him. Of course the centerpiece will be him. No matter what you do, you’ll never escape him.

She asks a bit about your inspiration and motivation for the piece, and you give her vague answers that sound more philosophical than the real thing. The two of you discuss some of the minutiae of the show, trying to get everything finalized ahead of time. There’s less than a month left, and your excitement is starting to pair itself with dread.

When you get home, you go straight to your bedroom and throw yourself face first onto your mattress. You bury your face in a pillow, finally letting out the scream that’s been stuck in your throat since you learned of Tessa’s existence. It helps.

You make and have dinner, barely aware of what you’re eating. At least you can eat without getting nauseous now. You don’t feel like watching TV, probably wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a real show right now. Instead, you sit on your bed, leaning back against the headboard. You scroll social media mindlessly for a while, the ghost of Matthew next to you, his invisible arm pressed against yours.

February, 2022

Despite your better judgment, the first time you and Matthew had slept together wasn’t the last, either. It had continued through last summer, then again when he’d come to play the Blues. Now you’re in Calgary, in Matthew’s apartment for the first time, in his bed again.

A lot of people idolize the first time they sleep with someone, comparing every subsequent time to the first and often coming out disappointed. You had no reason to do so, because the sex only got better over time. As you and Matthew learned each other’s bodies, figured out what got the best reactions, the sex kept improving. Even if you wanted to fall back on your morals and resist him out of respect for Brady, you know you couldn’t stay away for long. It’s irresistible.

And it’s not just the sex. It’s the way he holds you after, lays on his back so that you can rest your head on his chest. It’s the way his breath ruffles your hair as you fall asleep together. It’s the things he says to you.

It’s the nights like this.

You’re in Matthew’s bedroom, the dark dead of night offering only the moon to light the room. Your head is on Matthew’s chest, his arm around you to keep you close, as if you would ever willingly leave. Your breathing had returned to normal a while ago, your body cooling off and beginning to recover from the rush of feeling. Matthew kisses the top of your head every so often, and you return the sentiment by tilting your head to lay kisses against his sternum.

“I wish I could keep you here forever,” he says, so hushed that you almost miss it. He’s always so quiet when he talks like this, as if he’s afraid to say it. He says these kinds of things anyway, but never above a whisper, not willing to share the vulnerability with anyone but you. Again, you press your lips into his skin.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” you reply. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To stay here, with him. No need to be quiet so as not to wake his family, no having to sneak out in the morning, no work to keep you away. Just laying here, together.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says. There’s desire in his voice, of course, but also earnesty, like he really means it. Part of you would like to believe that he does, but another part knows how important it is to not get caught up in the fantasy. It’s easier said than done.

“Not any of the other girls you’ve had?” you ask. You’d meant for it to come out teasing, but your honest curiosity wins out. Then there’s a hand on your chin, fingers gently guiding your head up until you’re looking Matthew in the eye. It’s not exactly comfortable to crane your neck like this, so you prop yourself up on one forearm, resting the other hand where your head had been as you stare down at him.

“Never,” he replies, insistent. He looks so serious, sounds so sincere. You don’t say anything, can’t think of anything. There’s something in the wide roundness of his eyes that speaks to you, pulls you in, encourages you to search deeper. It takes a second to figure out what it is that’s hiding in there, but… it’s fear.

“I never want this with anyone else,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours over his racing heart. There’s a question you want to ask, something you’ve been wanting to ask for a while, but the fear in him has mirrored itself within you. You should just shut up, keep it to yourself. The words come out before you can convince yourself to stay quiet.

“What is this?” you ask. You’re not sure what answer you’re expecting, but you know which one you’re hoping for. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for the first time, you don’t divert your gaze to admire the sheen of them, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says, pauses, presses your entwined hands harder to his chest, “But I never want to give it up.”

May, 2022

Again, Matthew is the second to come home. Brady returned almost a month before in April, the Senators not in the playoffs, as usual. You feel bad sometimes, because Brady is genuinely a great player, but his team has just struggled to gel together. Even through all of their trials, Brady insists on keeping hope. He loves his teammates, and that’s what really matters to him.

Matthew, on the other hand, isn’t so great at dealing with failure. The Flames make it to the second round, which is an achievement all on its own. But after winning Game 1, they’d lost four in a row and been knocked out. It feels to Matthew almost like they got swept, he explains over the phone after the final loss.

When he gets home, he once again spends a week sulking. You mimic what you’d done last year, though staying the night is intentional this time. So long as you sneak out before anyone wakes up, you’ll be fine.

On the eighth day, you tell Matthew for the hundredth time how proud of him you are. He shoots you a bittersweet smile and says that he’s proud of himself too, and you know he’s bouncing back. It doesn’t help that he’s been debating for months whether to re-sign with the Flames, an agonizing choice for him. He loves his boys, but he’s not sure he belongs there anymore. You’ve assured him that you’ll support him no matter what decision he makes. Johnny hits free agency next month, and if he moves, you’re not sure that Matthew will have the motivation to stay.

The next couple of weeks go by the same way that they always do, with you spending as much time with the Tkachuks as possible. At least, you think you’re doing a good job of acting like everything is the same as years past. No one knows about you and Matthew, and it seems like he wants to keep it that way. You like having this little secret life with him, getting to have him all to yourself. You’re okay with the way it is, you convince yourself.

June came quickly, having begun only four days after he’d returned. The weather improves, you and Matthew once again resume your walks in the park. You play yard games and watch trash TV with Brady and Emma. You help Chantal cook dinners, help Keith clean up afterward. Everything is back to the summer standard.

The day had been nice, sunny and warm. The light had turned the leaves of the trees golden during your walk this afternoon. The sun is long gone now. Nighttime has become your favorite part of the day, the only time you get to indulge in whatever it is that you and Matthew have. The only time you get to touch his skin, to hear the low sounds he can’t help but make, to feel his warmth against you, inside you.

It’s been some time since you’d finished, but you can’t quite fall asleep. Matthew is spooned up against your back, face buried in the nape of your neck. You’re not sure if he’s asleep or not, too distracted to bother trying to figure it out. You’ve been thinking about it since your visit to Calgary. Any time Matthew called, or texted, or even crossed your mind, you thought of it. It made your heart leap into your throat, your breath catching as you choked on it.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing together, what you are. He didn’t give the response you’d been hoping for, but he didn’t outright deny it either. Sometimes you think it would have been better if he had, if he’d said that it was just sex. Then you could start working on moving on. You wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his groggy voice making you startle and snapping you out of your head. You take a deep breath, debating yourself for a couple seconds before you decide.

“Nothing,” you reply, patting his forearm where it’s snaked around your waist, “Go back to sleep.” He takes a quick, deep breath, the air rushing out over your skin. You’re helpless to resist when he starts moving you. If you did put up a fight, push back against his hands, you know he would stop. But you’re tired.

“What’s wrong?” he asks again once you’re flipped to face him. He looks tired too, the exhaustion of the season still lingering. The moonlight paints his face in silver. It makes his skin shine, almost glowing in the darkness.

“I’m afraid,” you say. You wish he hadn’t turned you around. It would be easier to speak it into the wall than it is to say to his face. You say it anyway, watching his brow furrow, admiring the way the silver light adds contrast to the wrinkles the expression creates.

“Of what?” he asks. You could make something up. Telling him that you’re afraid of monsters under the bed would be less embarrassing. You’ve never been very good at lying to him.

“The day you move on,” you whisper, invisible pressure on your throat making the words come out tight and unsteady. The surprise on his face surprises you in return. He’d refused to put words or labels to whatever this is, of course you would think that he’s going to leave eventually. You’d have to be an idiot to think that he means it when he says forever.

“I won’t,” he says, resolute. You can only manage a half-smile for him.

“You’re not the first man to say that,” you reply. He reaches up and cradles your cheek in his wide palm, warmth seeping into your skin.

“But I’m the first one to mean it,” he says. You close your eyes. They begin to prickle at the corners, but you refuse to cry about any of this. He’s so adamant, so steadfast in his insistence. You try to remind yourself of what this isn’t, what it will never be, but you’ve never trusted someone the way you trust him, and you can’t help believing him anyway.

August, 2023

You hadn’t anticipated this happening, let alone how hard it would be, but finally, finally it’s a little bit easier.

You’re not over Matthew, not by a long shot. It’s going to take months, years. It may never happen, who knows? As long as you can cope with it, can keep your friends around, that’s all that matters.

The first half of the day was spent with both boys and their girls. You didn’t have to curl up so tightly on your chair, didn’t have to force words out so they didn’t think anything was wrong. Conversation was relatively easy, topics changing and flowing naturally. You’d smiled, laughed, and a couple of times you actually meant it.

Matthew had apparently planned a date for Tessa and himself, so they excuse themselves in the late afternoon. Brady, Emma, and you stick around the den for a bit, continuing to talk. Eventually, Emma stands, stretching dramatically.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggests. You’ve spent too much time lately sitting at an easel or curled up in bed, and a walk sounds like a great idea.

You expect it this time when Brady takes the three of you to the same park. It’s easier when you’re not blindsided by it, and you have the lovely memory of the last time you were here with the two to focus on, instead of Matthew. You walk for a while, music playing softly from Emma’s phone, tucked in her back pocket. Once you’re deep into the wooded area of the park, she stops dead in her tracks. You follow suit, spinning around to shoot her an inquisitive look. She takes the two steps forward to close the space between you two, grabbing you by the shoulders and walking you backward. You stumble, trying to look behind yourself to keep from falling. She pushes until the backs of your knees hit a bench on the side of the pathway and you fall onto it. You gape up at her, befuddled by the behavior and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

“What’s going on,” she demands, not a question. You furrow your brow, at a loss for words. You know what she’s talking about, and you know that she knows that you know. But why would she wait until the day that it starts to fade, the day that you can finally think of something else, to ask you about it?

“C’mon, Y/N,” Brady says, plopping down on the bench next to you, “We know something’s wrong.” You had accepted the possibility of this back in June, but you weren’t expecting it to take almost three months for it to happen.

Your first instinct is that you absolutely can’t tell them. You’ve been keeping this secret for years, and if Matthew has his way, you’ll keep it forever. If Matthew gets his way, you repeat in your head. That’s it, isn’t it? All this time, you’ve been so focused on what Matthew wants that you ignored your own wanting. What do you want?

You want to tell someone, to finally have this horrid pain out in the open instead of keeping it caged up around your heart. You want your best friend and his wife to hug you. You want them to understand.

“Matthew,” the name tumbles out, and you don’t want to stop it. Brady and Emma are still looking at you, waiting for anything you want to tell them. God, Brady is your goddamn best friend and you’d convinced yourself that you couldn’t tell him something? That there was anything on this earth that he would shun you for?

It all comes spilling out in a rush. Everything from the first time you’d met him. Hell, some information that isn’t strictly necessary, but they don’t interrupt you or complain, so you venture on. It takes long enough to recount that Emma sits on the metal armrest of the bench. Brady’s holding one of your hands in his lap, Emma taking the other to do the same.

You’d promised yourself more than once that you wouldn’t cry about this, but you don’t really care enough to stop yourself now. The tears come two-thirds of the way through, falling silently as you recount some of the things Matthew had told you, the things he’d promised you. You’re not outright sobbing, so you manage to power through the rest of the story. Your eyes are squeezed tightly shut by the end, like closing them will block out the memories.

It takes a couple of minutes for the tears to stop. The three of you let the silence hang as you wait for it, nothing but the leaves rustling in the trees, something scurrying in the bushes. When you can safely open your eyes to face the world again, you look over to Brady. He looks devastated.

You watch his evolving emotions morph the expression on his face, from heartbreak to anger and back again. The anger makes your heart skip a beat, suddenly afraid that maybe the whole “I slept with your brother” thing will be a problem after all.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he asks, startling a laugh out of you. You know he’s dead serious, too. Part of you thinks it might be cathartic to see Matthew get beat up by his little brother, but your soft heart doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. After everything he’s done to you, you still don’t want him to have to feel even a fraction of the pain you do.

February, 2023

This year, the boys don’t have to bribe anyone else to get you to the All Star Game. Each of them is allotted two tickets as per usual, but Taryn is too busy with school to come. She’d aimed a satisfied smirk at Matthew through the camera of her phone, saying guess you’ll have to take that one along as her eyes darted slightly to the left, clearly looking at where you were on the screen.

Since your work is remote, you’ve brought along your laptop. You spend the morning of the skills competition working, still averse to using your PTO if it’s not completely necessary. The boys have to do media, so there’s no one around to bother or distract you. You kind of wish there were.

The special skills competitions are as fun this year as they were last. You especially love Sidney Crosby in the dunk tank, seemingly having the time of his life. You may not know him personally, only having met him once in passing, but after everything he’s been through, you think he deserves some carefree fun.

The sun has set by time you emerge from the arena after the regular skills competitions. The days are shorter at this time of year, even in Florida. It is warmer than St. Louis, though, which you’re grateful for.

Jack is in the competition again this year, so you meet up with the Weinberg-Hugheses again that night. You’ve gotten much closer with Jack and Quinn over the past year, building relationships on texts and calls and dinners when they play the Blues. Luke has tagged along this time, and you get on with him just as well as his brothers.

Matthew shoots Jack a look when he slings an arm around you on the way back to your hotels after dinner, but Jack just grins at him. You’re still not sure what that’s all about, but you’re just going to stay out of it.

The games the next day are fantastic. You’ve never gotten to watch both of your boys win at once, and you love it. When the Atlantic wins the whole thing, you cheer so loudly your voice cracks. Emma laughs at you, but you just laugh along with her.

You stick around for a bit after the game again, Keith and Chantal mingling while Emma shows you the decorations she’s planning for the wedding on her phone. After a while, someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn your head, immediately recognizing Jane. Johnny had made it again this year with his new team, so it would make sense that she’s here too. You stand, reaching up to hug her in her elevated position.

“Matthew got you a new jersey?” she asks, referencing the All-Star jersey you’ve got on. You wish you could say that you bought it for yourself, but it had indeed been a gift from Matthew. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, so you act like it’s not, even though it is.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend,” you reply, shrugging, “He likes to take care of me.” The thing about Jane is that she’s not really a jerk. Sometimes the you-and-Matthew comments bother you, but she’s generally a very sweet woman.

“It’s good to have someone like that,” she says, smiling gently at you, “Matthew is a good boy.” Jane had been at enough Flames games for you to know her, and definitely enough for Matthew to become a pseudo-son to her. They don’t interact much anymore, save for when she pops up in the back of Johnny’s facetimes, but you know she still has a soft spot for him. You don’t blame her.

“He really is,” you agree, nodding. The two of you make some small talk, and you get some updates on Johnny’s new life on the Blue Jackets. You give her some updates on Matthew in return. After a bit, Guy shuffles up next to Jane, telling her that it’s time to go. She acknowledges him quickly, turning back to take one of your hands in her own.

“I know he takes care of you,” she says, patting the back of your hand with her second, “But you take care of that boy, too. Okay?” You just nod, smiling and bidding her goodbye. Her and Guy retreat up the steps and out of view. You’re not sure why she feels the need to say these things to you, and you’re not sure why you take them to heart.

You meet Matthew and Brady outside the player entrance, the boys immediately scooping up you and Emma, respectively. Matthew sweeps you off of your feet for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Once you’re free, you start to dip forward, realizing what you’re doing at the last second and changing track to make sure the kiss lands on his cheek.

He beams at you, and you’re absolutely certain that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to make him smile.

April, 2023

The day Brady comes home is the best day of the year, you remind yourself for the thousandth time. You’re excited to see him, you are. The way your chest has felt rent open for days isn’t his fault in any way. You’re not going to make him pay for being the messenger.

Once you all get the couple home, you go upstairs with Brady and Emma to help them unpack. They don’t really need help, obviously, but it’s an excuse to spend time together. Brady talks a little about the season, but mostly focuses on his plans for the summer. He talks about wanting to go see G, maybe even take a trip out to visit Tim.

For the most part, you just fold clothes and listen. Eventually, they switch to the topic of the wedding, Emma showing you even more pictures. She’d asked you to be a bridesmaid forever ago, so you’ve already seen most of it, had even helped her pick half of it out, but you’re never going to squash her excitement.

Exhausted from their travel, the two make their way down to the den after everything is put away, collapsing onto the couch. You curl up in your chair, allowing the couple to choose what you watch. They pick something or another, nothing that you can pay attention to right now. Instead, you find yourself examining Brady, picking apart his features, finding all the things he shares with Matthew.

It’s the best day of the year, you remind yourself again. The light of the TV highlights Brady’s jawbone and your skin crawls.

August, 2023

The show is going exceptionally well, exceeding your expectations. The space is filled with strangers, friends, and even your brother and his family. There are critics and collectors, some that you’ve seen at other people’s shows, some that you don’t recognize. Everyone wants to talk to you, and you don’t get a spare moment to breathe for the first few hours.

When you do get a chance to exhale, the rich couple that had been occupying you finally walking away, you catch the color out of the corner of your eye. You’ve been all around the building all night, mingling and networking in equal measure. You hadn’t realized where you ended up until right this second. You turn to the piece, staring as if you’d never seen it before.

You don’t need to look over to see who steps up next to you a minute later.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Matthew says. It doesn’t feel like an accusation, though it is one. All you can do is sigh.

“What did you expect me to do?” you ask, not expecting an answer. You glance at his hands out of the corner of your eye, noticing the wine glass in one hand, water glass in the other. Without a word, Matthew holds the water out in your direction, still fixated on the painting. You take it, feeling odd that not only does Matthew know that you forget to drink enough water, but also that he’s still trying to take care of you.

“It’s me,” he says after a pause. You’re both facing the largest canvas, the centerpiece. Swirls of bright red spread across a crimson background, highlighted with orange, accented with a royal purple. There, in the center, are two comparatively small, even circles of icy blue.

“They’re all you. Or about you, at least,” you say, seeing no need to deny it any longer, “About us.” It’s obvious that Matthew hadn’t expected you to admit it outright, thrown off for a minute by the admission.

“Can we talk?” he asks as you take a sip of water.

“We’re talking right now,” you reply, feeling petty. It’s his turn to sigh. He sets his wine glass down on the nearest horizontal surface before returning to your side, facing you this time.

“Somewhere private,” he clarifies, pauses, “Please.” You may be mad at him, enraged, incensed, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything, and you still can’t, even now.

You shut the storage room door behind you, flicking on the light to chase away the darkness. Matthew has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around as if there’s anything interesting in here. You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to nut up and look you in the face.

“Listen,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck but still not looking at you, “I know I should have gone about this better.” You snort. No shit. The sound finally brings Matthew’s gaze to meet your own.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Matthew says, motioning with his raised hand, “I didn’t think you’d care that much.” You can feel how incredulous your expression is, and you don’t even try to hide it.

“In what world would I not be upset?” you respond, “After everything?” You can hear yourself, know you sound like a bitter, jealous old ex, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and looks away again. When he looks back, there’s an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, more sincerely than the first time, “You shouldn’t have had to find out from Brady.” You avert your gaze, working your jaw for a second before you raise your chin and square your shoulders.

“No,” you agree, “I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you,” he says, motioning helplessly with his hands, “You have to know how hard that was.” You shake your head, almost disgusted.

“Imagine how hard it was for me,” you reply. Your fingertips are digging into your own arm, fingernails biting into the skin. The fact that he would stand here and imply that this was a struggle for him– as if he expects you to offer sympathy– makes your stomach churn. The guilt in his expression makes you sickly satisfied.

“Listen,” he leads with that word again, as if he has any right to ask it of you, “I didn’t want to upset her. You know how some girls are.” You do know. And it’s still not an excuse.

“You didn’t tell her about me,” you say, anger and hurt straining your voice, “You said that I was just Brady’s best friend. You didn’t even tell her what we had.” You want to scream it at him, just want to scream in general. Maybe if you did, if you released your tight grip on control in a different way than you had with him, maybe it would make him understand.

“What did we have?” he asks. His voice is quiet, just as yours had been when you’d brought up the topic all those months ago.

“I don’t know,” you say, turning his own words back on him. It’s true, anyway. You’ve never known what any of this was. You’d only known what you wanted it to be, what you stupidly, fruitlessly hoped for.

“We never dated,” he replies, voice still low but seemingly not bothered by the uncertainty, “We never called it a relationship. You were never my girlfriend.” It’s a simple fact. It tears your heart out of your chest.

“Just because we didn’t name it doesn’t mean it was nothing,” you insist, squeezing your eyes shut for a second to push down the urge to cry before admitting, “I stopped dating.” He looks even guiltier at that, but it doesn’t soothe anything in you.

“I didn’t look at another man,” you continue, embarrassed and ashamed but unable to let him continue through life without knowing, “I didn’t even want to look at anyone else.” The shame makes the fiery anger burn brighter.

“I gave you three years of my fucking life,” you say, voice raising just enough to make Matthew flinch. You keep it reigned in enough that no one outside will hear, not interested in sharing this conversation with anyone else, especially not potential business contacts. The flames engulf your chest, lick up at your throat, threaten to consume you.

“I never asked you to do that,” Matthew replies, solemn. Your jaw drops, just half an inch, enough to part your lips as your breath hitches. He never asked. He never fucking–

“You–” you begin, breath catching in your throat as your eyes burn with tears you refuse to let escape, “Everything you said, everything you did, and you expected what? For me to just move on?” Your nails are digging so deeply into your biceps that you’re surprised they haven’t drawn blood. Matthew doesn’t respond right away, and you can’t tamp down the impulse to be petty.

“But I guess that’s what you did, huh?” you jab. Matthew shuts his eyes tightly, fists clenching like he wants to fight. It should be threatening, but you’ve always known that he would never dream of laying a finger on you in violence. But then again, you’d thought you knew a lot of things about him.

“Why do you care?” he asks, shoulders tense as he opens his eyes to stare you down, “You don’t even want me.” That shocks a laugh out of you, so completely ridiculous that you can’t help it.

“That’s the most fucked up part– I do want you,” you respond, simultaneously an answer and an admission. His brow furrows as he continues looking at you, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Did you seriously think I didn’t?” you ask, more of a demand, slightly offended because, “Do you think I said all those things for fun? For shits and giggles?” You can’t read his expression, don’t even bother trying. He can feel whatever he wants. That’s not your concern anymore. All you care about is the cold spreading through you, crawling up from the tips of your fingers, freezing your arms, creeping into your chest and beginning to extinguish your rage.

“I loved you, dickhead,” you continue, the words spilling out of you starting to sound pathetic, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold on to the anger, putting the last grasp of it into the words, “Stupid fucking idiot asshole, I loved you.” Matthew gapes at you, hands going lax at his sides. His jaw moves as if to say something, but nothing comes out.

“I loved you and you threw me away like garbage, and didn’t even have the balls to tell me yourself,” you force the sentence out, feeling like you’re choking on every syllable. Matthew’s breathing stutters. You’re expecting annoyance, irritation, maybe even shame or guilt. You’re not expecting his wide eyes, his eyebrows turned up in the middle, his slack jaw.

“You loved me?” he finally asks after a few agonizingly long seconds of silence. There’s something in his voice that you tell yourself you don’t care to analyze.

“Of course I did. How could I not?” you say, huffing as you look upwards, needing a momentary break from this staring contest, “The pathetic part, the part that makes me hate myself, is that I still do.” It’s physically painful to say, no matter that the hurt is psychosomatic. You’ve spent the last few minutes breaking open your ribcage, one bone at a time, revealing to him the space you’d made for him inside of yourself.

“You love me?” he asks, so dumbfounded that he’s repeating himself.

“Yes, Matthew,” you say, facing up to the dread inside of you, the one fact you’ve been struggling with the most since you’d found out the news.

“And I’m terrified. Because I’ve always loved you,” you pour out, barely able to hold yourself together as you meet his eyes, “And I’m afraid that I always will.” There’s not even space for half of a breath before Matthew speaks.

“Please do,” he says. His hands are open, palms facing your direction, as if pleading.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t know,” he says, and apparently he’s decided it’s his turn to reveal himself, “I was surprised that you wanted anything to do with me at all. But then you kissed me, and I spent the next three years waiting for you to leave.” The confusion comes over you so quickly that it almost masks the hurt.

“Why would I leave?” you ask. There’s been nothing subtle about your feelings. You’ve told him that he’s the only one you want, that you want to spend the rest of your life by his side, that he’ll always be the only one. How could he hear all of that and think that you would ever leave?

“Because you’re smart and kind and funny and hardworking–” he starts listing off.

“Tessa is all of those things too,” you cut him off. It doesn’t come out as resentful as you would’ve expected a sentence like that to. As you’ve told Terri, you really have nothing against Tessa. Besides, she really is everything he’s saying.

“But she’s not you,” his response comes immediately, emphatically, “I don’t want just anyone like that; I want you, and you happen to be that way.” You’re stunned into silence.

“It’s not the traits, it’s you,” he says, insistent, like he’s trying to convince you of your own worth, “And I kept waiting for you to find someone else, someone who wasn’t hotheaded and self-centered and–” He stops himself, swallowing so hard you can see his throat stutter under the thin skin of his neck.

“Someone better,” he finishes. The thing is that Matthew doesn’t have low self-esteem. He knows he’s a catch, and yet… And yet, he’s standing here, admitting that he’d still thought of you as being so far above him that you could never want him. And it’s not that there isn’t probably someone out there better than him–

“I never wanted someone better,” you tell him, voice almost a whisper. Growing up, you’d created this picture of the perfect man, told yourself that you’d find him one day, would never settle for less. Then you’d met Matthew, and he was nothing like that imaginary ideal. He was flawed; he was real. And you couldn’t help but love him for it.

“And I never wanted anyone else,” he replies, his own voice hushed to match yours, but no less certain, “I still don’t.” Three months ago, you would’ve given anything to hear that. But things are different now.

“I thought that if I went and found someone like you, someone close enough, that I could fall for them too,” he confesses, shame making his face tense, “I thought that if I stopped talking to you, if I kept my distance, that I could get over you.” A fraction of the anger buds in your chest at the idea.

“So you’re using Tessa,” you accuse, instantly offended on her behalf.

“No!” Matthew denies emphatically, pauses, shakes his head, “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” If he is using her, at least he seems ashamed about it. Something in his posture makes you think he isn’t, that he really thought he could love her.

“Look, she’s great. She’s amazing. She’s too good for me, too,” his shoulders have been hunched up to his ears, but they fall now, defeated, “She talks about that spark she felt when we met, the way she feels about me now, and I want, I really want to feel that way too. It would be easier if I could.” Believing this entire time that he truly loves her has been hell for you, but it’s still somehow worse to know that he doesn’t. That he did all of this, hurt you so deeply, for someone he doesn’t even love.

“As much as I’ve tried, I don’t. And I can’t,” he says, turning his gaze to the floor, “And if I’d ever thought that I had the slightest chance with you, I never would have dated her to begin with.” All these years, all those words, all the touches you’ve shared, and he’d still never taken you seriously. It’s not your fault, you know. But you realize now that for every time you’d indirectly confessed your feelings to him, he’d said the same things back. He’d returned every sentiment readily, easily. And as much as he’d apparently had the same idea as you, that the other could never love you back, you hadn’t seen it either. You’ve been just as ignorant of his feelings as he was of yours, just as deep in denial. And now there’s this rift between you, a deep chasm that keeps you apart, all for no reason.

“So, what now?” you ask. There’s nothing else to ask.

“What?” he seems genuinely confused.

“What now?” you repeat, too tired to be upset anymore, “You break her heart? Or do you keep pretending? Fake your way into a wife and kids and a house in the suburbs?” His confusion persists, tongue darting out to wet his lip the way it always does when he’s anxious.

“I thought–” he shakes his head the tiniest bit, as if he can’t believe what’s happening, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you.” There’s a sadness sitting heavy in your chest, only getting deeper at his words.

“I love you too,” you say, tipping your head an inch to the right, perfectly aware of how melancholy your smile must be, “But you hurt me, and now you have to hurt her too. I thought you were better than this.” You’d thought the world of him. You don’t hate him now, could never force yourself to. But you are disappointed in how everything has played out.

“I thought you didn’t want better?” he says, not really a question. Your lips turn up another centimeter at that.

“Listen,” you say, turning the word back on him. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly. He stays quiet.

“The opportunity of a lifetime is on the other side of that door,” you gesture vaguely over your shoulder, then let your arms relax, your hands fall to your sides, “I don’t know what to do with any of–” you give another vague gesture, “--This.” The devastation is writ clear on his face, telegraphed by his posture, bared in the forefront of his miserably beautiful eyes.

“Out there?” you say, smile still in place, “I know exactly what I want. So I’m going to go get it.” you pause, take another deep breath, “And maybe you’ll be there tomorrow, and maybe you won’t.”

“I will,” he jumps in. You huff an almost-laugh.

“We can figure this all out later,” you say, sure a definite, “For now, I have to focus on the things that I’m sure of.” He nods, looks at the floor, raises his head and looks back at you.

“Did you used to be sure of me?” he asks, an uneven, shaky whisper.

“Yeah,” you say, your entire being feeling so heavy that you can barely hold yourself upright, “I used to be.”

September, 2023

While Brady had departed yesterday, Matthew doesn’t leave until tomorrow. It took some internal debate, but you’ve decided not to go along to drop him off at the airport. His family will think it’s weird if he doesn’t hug you, and you’re not sure if you can handle him touching you yet.

You’re curled up on the couch with a book, letting yourself get lost in the story. A knock comes on the door and you startle. You mark your page and stand, rounding the couch to open the door. When you do, Matthew is standing there.

“Hey,” he greets, giving you the same bittersweet smile you’ve become accustomed to over the past few weeks. You’d given him a key to your apartment right after you’d moved, but you appreciate him not using it right now. You welcome him in with a gesture of your hand, turning to lead the way. You get four steps away before he speaks.

“I broke up with Tessa,” he blurts out. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he doesn’t seem particularly sad either.

“Why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’re that sure that I’ll take you back?” The anger comes and goes as it pleases, and it’s starting to sneak through the space between your ribs.

“No,” Matthew says, looking so unbearably fond of you, “I think you’ll tell me to get fucked.” Some days you want to.

“Then why did you break up with her?” you ask. Part of you has been wondering if, despite everything he’d said, he would stay with her. You’re not sure you would have been able to keep the conversation to yourself if he had, but you would have at least tried.

“Because none of this is fair to her,” he answers, shrugging, “She deserves someone who feels the same way about her that she does them. Someone who’s obsessed with her. She doesn’t deserve to be settled for.” You examine his expression, his stance, and realize that he’s truly being honest. He genuinely wants the best for her.

“How’d she take it?” you can’t help but ask. It makes him grin down at the floor for a moment.

“Honestly?” he asks when he raises his head, “Not great. Could have been worse, though.” As much as you love Matthew, you would have been proud of Tessa if she had slapped him.

“Probably should’ve been worse,” you reply. He grins again, tilting his head as he admires your face.

“Probably,” he agrees. For long moments, you both stand still, eyes locked.

“What now?” you ask, the same question as a couple weeks ago. He shrugs again, but he doesn’t seem as miserable or desperate as he had at the gallery.

“I don’t know,” he replies, that same phrase that you’re still trying to make peace with, “I know what I want. Same thing I’ve wanted this entire time. So I guess it’s up to you.” After three years of him encouraging you to give up control, to let go and follow his lead, he’s handing you the reigns now. However this ends or continues is completely your decision.

“You leave tomorrow,” you say, though you’re both viscerally aware of the fact.

“Yeah,” he gives you the crooked smile that had captured you the first time you’d met, “Don’t suppose you want to come with me? The winter weather’s nicer in Florida.” You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“If you’d asked me that last summer, I probably would’ve said yes,” you admit. You kind of expect him to react with sadness, but you prefer the hope that blooms on his face.

“Maybe I’ll ask you again next summer?” he suggests, offering you the option. At this point, you have no idea where your relationship will be at this time next year. You don’t know if you’ll even have a relationship, of any kind. But if he’s willing to try, so are you.

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling wider than you have in a long while, “Next summer.”

June, 2024

The Hughes brothers are a funny trio. Seeing Jack’s upbeat, outgoing energy bookended on each side by two reserved, perpetually exhausted brothers is always kind of funny. You’d run down the pavement from the Tkachuk’s door to the driveway when you’d seen Quinn climb out of the car’s driver seat, immediately sweeping him up in a hug. The boys had decided to road trip around this summer, so of course you’d strongly suggested that they visit you.

You help them haul their bags out of the trunk, taking Luke’s backpack in hand and insisting on carrying it in for him. The three of them had started teasing you the instant they saw that Matthew hadn’t come out with you.

“Come on, I heard him at the All Star game,” Jack pesters, voice taking a mocking edge as he croons, “Sweet girl.” You laugh brightly, stopping the careful steps you’re taking backwards up the pathway to the house.

“We weren’t dating, I swear,” you insist. Plenty of people over the years have accused you of dating Matthew, but at least he’s funny about it. He stops in front of you, lifting his chin and giving a shit-eating smile.

“Wait, weren’t?” he asks, “As in, past tense?” You feel heat begin to crawl up your face. You’d intended to tell them, of course, but not the second they got here.

“Yeah,” Matthew calls from behind you, and you twist around to watch him close the space between you, “Past tense.” Jack’s glee is overt, but you can see the little signs of happiness on the other two boys’ faces too. Matthew lines himself up against your back, wrapping his arms around you, the gaudy Cup ring on his finger glinting in the light.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can’t see him, but Jack’s smug face makes you sure that Matthew is staring straight at him. “My sweet girl,” Matthew says. It might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.

[formulaforza]

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests. 

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online. 

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple. 

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours. 

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table. 

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’. 

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it. 

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up. 

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young. 

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent. 

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes. 

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year. 

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too. 

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after. 

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to. 

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

 “What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh. 

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips  pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing. 

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between. 

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand. 

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench. 

He swipes his thumb over the  condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?” 

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth. 

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand. 

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

 He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches. 

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles. 

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds. 

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject. 

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away. 

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy. 

You swallow. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

[azulpitlane]

got love stuck part 3 please i’m begging it’s so good i need it

out of the woods I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: in which lando has to communicate his insecurities but is he too late? notes: ask and you shall receive, this one took a while cause I had it all written out then I hated it and started over😇but this is the last part!! i loved making this thank u for being so supportive considering part one was my first ever post!! now send some requests hehe part one, part two, masterlist

lando i fucked up, its too late

danny ric what do you mean its too late?

lando i texted her and no response she went to dinner with mason tonight they're probably still together right now

danny ric okay so you're jumping into conclusions AGAIN you have to have some faith in her mate and stop assuming the worst

lando she was with her ex after our breakup what am I suppose to do?

danny ric communicate, you muppet you can't just give up after one try

lando okay okay you're right, i was overthinking im booking the next flight to london

danny ric um i was thinking maybe a phone call?

lando too late, already booked it

dailymail

102,339 likes

dailymail Trouble in paradise? Singer Y/n Y/l/n and F1 driver Lando Norris reunited in London today. Onlookers claim the two were having a heated conversation about their relationship and it is unclear whether the two are currently together or not. Was this argument result of Y/l/n's infidelity? The singer was spotted twice within this month with ex boyfriend, Mason Mount. Read more on the singer's relationship timeline with Mount and Norris in our article linked in the bio.

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user yes lets just make assumptions that y/n is a cheater based on nothing🙄

user if lando took her back ill be so mad. shes so toxic

user you have no idea what shes like in real life? you're just basing your opinion on some stupid tabloid that constantly spreads misinformation on her

user WAR IS OVER (THEYRE STILL TOGETHER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS).

user YUP Y/N AND LANDO DEFENDER TIL I DIE user SAME IM CONVINCED SHE NEVER CHEATED IDC IDC

user this doesn't even look like a heated argument to me?? y'all be doing too much

user please let this be just a friendly conversation and her and mason got back together☹️

user its been a year, I think its time to move on from that relationship user yup!! shes clearly moved on y'all need to do it too user her relationship with lando has been messy from the start, she never had to deal with this drama with mason that's all im sayin

user this page is obsessed with y/n!! leave my girl aloneeee

yourusername

liked by landonorris, masonmount and 5,283,239 others

yourusername out of the woods out now.

view all comments

selenagomez on repeat already💙 liked by yourusername

user WAIT WHOS THE GUY IN THE LAST SLIDE

user HAS TO BE LANDO user praying its mase but I have a feeling its lando☹️

user the way these lyrics can apply to both mason or lando so we have no clue who its about🧍‍♀️

user and they both liked aghhhh!!!!

danielricciardo amazing song, so so proud liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes can't stop listening im obsessed😍 liked by yourusername

user okay danny and the wags are all commenting this is a good sign for us lando and y/n defenders

alexandrasaintmleux you're so talented I love it!! liked by yourusername

user y/n dropping this after being seen with lando again, I think its time for us mason defenders to retire :(

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 920,482 others

landonorris want you for worse or for better, would wait forever and ever tagged yourusername

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user YES WE CAN FINALLY SAY WAR IS OVER

user I KNEW IT YES

yourusername and that's how it works💙

user these are definitely song lyrics AHHHH user landos listened to the new album omfsgnks user new album is gonna be mix of love and breakup songs with the drama methinks

user MOM AND DAD ARE DONE FIGHTING

maxfewtrell sap

user careful lando, once a cheater always a cheater

user where is the proof of her cheating?? there literally is none user they literally broke up after she was seen with mason user give up this narrative already!! her and lando are clearly happy together so who cares

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 7,284,234 others

yourusername these past few weeks have felt like a crazy, emotional train wreck but there's nobody else I would've rather done it with than my best friend and lover💙 i usually never address anything like this but there are somethings that aren't easy to shake off especially when it comes to my relationship and my loyalty being questioned. there has never been somebody who has been so perfect for me and i would never trade this love for anybody elses. i could go on and on about it but i find it easier to communicate through music.

my new album is out tonight at midnight, it is a collection of songs written from last year to now. interpret the songs as you like but just know there is only one person im in love with right now.

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user OMFG WEVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

user she just nicely told all mason x y/n supporters to stfu

user not only that but she beat the cheater allegations🙏

user THIS IS SO CUTE WHAT

user "would never trade this love for anybody elses" IMCRYIN

landonorris love you so so much, dont know what I would do without you

yourusername lan love u more🥹 user AWWW user nobody can be a mason x y/n fan after this cause they are too cute

landonorris this album is amazing, im so incredibly proud of you and everything you've been through liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 very excited for this one liked by yourusername

masonmount this was very well said, congrats on the new album!! liked by yourusername

user OMG? user in their besties era omdfsnkln user I knew they were just friends through all this!!!

user okay officially retiring the mason x y/n agenda..it was a good run

user def the end of an era but our girl is happy🫶

user now that the drama is over can we focus on how good this album is gonna be

user fr the drought is officially over

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and 3,232,325 others

yourusername the love for my new album has been insane, thank you guys so much!! so many records broken just on the first day of the release and i couldn't have done it without you guys💙

now it is time to hibernate for a little bit and spend some much needed time off with my loved ones so this is a lil goodbye... for now!

see ya later

view all comments

user NO COME BACK

user gave us some lando content before dipping, thank u mother

user she took 'I know places we won't be found' to a whole different level because nobody can find out where theyre vacationing

user good!! they need some privacy after this messy drama

landonorris got you all to myself now

maxfewtrell gross yourusername perv

kellypiquet ❤️‍🩹 liked by yourusername

user but will we see you at the paddock next season🥹

yourusername ofc!! catch me rooting for my babyyy

user what a crazy era. hopefully well get some performances and lando supporting after this break

landonorris will be front row at every show user wag and rockstar's bf. try not to say parents challenge omg user can't wait for the content of them supporting each other at races and concerts ahhh

yourbff pls dont make me an auntie soon im too young

yourusername okay im officially logging off.

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77@landowecanbewc

[54625]

What I want out of a QSMP season two.

(Some of these points may be a little divisive - it's just my personal opinion. Content creators will be referred to as players for conciseness. QSMP as it has been for the past year, for the sake of this post, will be referred to as "season 1".)

1. TAKE A FUCKING BREAK.

I do not want to see the QSMP coming back in less than two months at the very, very least. Five or six months to a year is ideal, in my opinion.

This is for a few reasons. Firstly, the obvious; I want Quackity Studios to take the necessary time to make 100% sure that everyone who has worked, does work, or will work for them is compensated. Not just this, but I want the communication among the studio to become streamlined and consistent, for the purpose of maintaining the quality of the SMP, the quality of life of the employees, and entirely avoiding a repeat of the previous situation. Any less will be unacceptable, and prove that all people in charge, including and especially Quackity himself, have not learned their lesson.

Secondly, I am very sure that a lot of players will lack or have completely lost their motivation for the QSMP, due to the nature of the last few months of season 1. I am sure that those who had a lot of lore written up and had to scrap it or cut it short are probably still quite sore about it, and may not have the energy to pick the QSMP story back up. This is especially true if they had already given their characters a canon ending and don't want to overshadow it. When creating a new SMP, or a new season of an SMP, you first and foremost need player motivation to be high. Waiting several months would ensure that the wound of player lore being ruined would have mostly healed over by the start of season 2.

Thirdly, viewer engagement will always be an important thing to take into consideration when creating an SMP that will be televised. The large majority of QSMP fans are completely burned out from watching. Leaving a large gap between seasons 1 and 2 would let fans, who have had an exhausting last few months, recover and reset. It will also allow hype and anticipation to build up when things eventually start being teased and announced again. Fans have a lot of disdain for this project at the present moment, and waiting for a while between seasons will not only let fans know that serious action is being taken behind the scenes, but also will let the sour attitude a lot of fans have right now wear off over time.

2. RESET. FOR REAL THIS TIME.

Probably my most controversial take on this topic will be; I fully believe that if a QSMP season 2 is to occur, it should be a completely new server. By completely new I naturally mean a new map, but also ZERO LORE CONTINUATION. I know this is a hot take, but I personally believe QSMP season 2 is a perfect chance for a completely fresh start, and a fresh start cannot happen if it still takes place in the same universe.

We all know that season 1's lore was overwhelming, slightly confusing, and at the end of the day, completely disjointed. We all fell in love with the terrifying Federation and Codes, yes, we all loved the basis of the story; a group of people from different countries get stranded on a "perfect" paradise island controlled by a governmental body that won't let them leave, and have to work together; but at the end of the day, the lore of season 1 became messy. Very messy. Instead of trying again and again to salvage it, the best option is probably to just start again.

Put the same players in a different map, give them a completely different premise, and let the lore unfold anew. Which leads into my next point.

3. PLAYER DRIVEN LORE.

Let the players develop the story. If a player has an overarching storyline they are unfolding themselves, prioritise letting them do so. All of the best lore in season 1 was player created, and player enacted; Cellbit's regret arc, the happy pills, Cellbit's murdering Fed workers arc, literally everything Fit ever did, Roier's lore, ect ect ect. Server admins should only intervene in player's lore when directly asked, and big changes to the server's status quo should only occur when there is no active lore to be interrupted, everyone agrees it should happen, and it would actively drive engagement up, rather than down.

The best case scenario for a QSMP season 2, in my opinion, is for the server admins and Quackity to come up with an exciting and engaging premise for a brand new universe with brand new characters, to place the players in an interesting themed map, and just let them loose. Let the lore build naturally, and see what comes of it.

IN CONCLUSION.

I vehemently disagree with people who believe the QSMP should not have a season 2. The QSMP is a brilliant idea, and its noble goals shine through all of the incredible friendships and memories it, and only it, made. There is no other server like QSMP.

The act of uniting people from all over the world has been proven to be an extremely important and worthwhile goal. I, genuinely, admire Quackity for his passion in this, and for understanding that this thing should not be easily given up on or let go. Drastic changes need to occur, but the QSMP is bigger than just a Minecraft server; it represents so much unity, community, and love.

It is worth saving.

I hope, desperately and for the sake of everyone involved, past future and present, that the QSMP can come back better and stronger than ever, continuing to further its goals; to tell amazing stories, to forge impossible friendships, to spark joy and laughter, and to bring people together no matter the barriers keeping them apart.

Thank you for reading.

[greynatomy]

cindy lou who

alexia putellas x reader

social media + real life (no part two)

face claim - sabrina carpenter

———

liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 2,648,826 others

yourinstagram made a little something special for the holidays

‘fruitcake’ is out now 🤍

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user AHHHH a christmas album!!!!

user nonsense (christmas version) 👀

taylorswift so proud!

↳ yourinstagram ty mother!

user guys… cindy lou who

—

Alexia was at training when she received a notification on her phone. Pulling it out, she sees a familiar notification. ‘yourinstagram posted a photo’

Clicking on it, she sees your new post. A new album.

“Hey, baby.”

Alexia quickly clots out of the app, putting her phone in her pocket.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, you know.” Alexia shrugs her shoulders. “Just going through the socials, emails.”

“Oh, okay. Well, you wanna go to this restaurant I’ve always wanted to try?”

“Sure.”

At dinner, Alexia gets another notification. Seeing it, she acts like it was from her manager, excusing herself from the table.

—

liked by taylorswift, shawnmendes and 3,648,738 others

yourinstagram since you guys have blown up ‘fruitcake’ i give to you ‘santa doesn’t know you like i do’ music video! enjoy <3

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user mother is feeding us

user omfg is that shawn fucking mendes??

↳ greynatomy it’s not, but pretend it is

taylorswift on repeat!

↳ yourinstagram 🤍🤍

shawnmendes who’s that handsome fellow?

↳ yourinstagram lyle

↳ user can’t take her seriously

↳ user why am i shipping?

—

Alexia hasn’t had the chance to listen to the album, but from the looks of it, it’s become a hit in just a few hours.

Returning to the table, she sees that the desserts have been brought out.

“What did your manager want?”

“Oh, you know, just some football talk about the game soon.”

All her girlfriend does is nod, going back on her phone.

It’s been a year since Alexia broke up with you, but she couldn’t seem to stop thinking of you. Everywhere she looked, you were there, whether it was your songs or in posters and magazines.

You were everywhere.

You looked so beautiful in the pictures you posted, but she couldn’t help but wonder about that Shawn guy. Who is he to you? Alexia knew she had no right to be jealous, but she couldn’t help it.

Getting back home, her girlfriend was all over her, hoping to get lucky, but she wasn’t in the mood, pushing her away, giving a sorry of an excuse as to why she didn’t want to.

As her girlfriend slept, she stayed in the living room, putting her headphones on.

The first song, she remembers you writing it. The first time you let Alexia listen to it, it ended with you both back in bed. She grinned at the memory.

Getting to the fourth track, she carefully listens to the lyrics, quickly realizing that it was about her and her new relationship.

“Is this how you really feel?” Alexia asks herself.

She had met her now girlfriend a couple of months after the breakup when she went to Ibiza to let loose. She was aware of how quickly she moved on, so caught up in the new relationship.

She decides to sleep on the couch, not being able to bear sleeping next to her girlfriend.

—

liked by shawnmendes, alexiaputellas and 1,335,284 others

yourinstagram what’s in your wishlist?

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shawnmendes am i in yours?

↳ yourinstagram in your dreams

↳ user i need to know if they’re dating!

haileesteinfeld you’re in mine

↳ yourinstagram ily bby

user ugh she’s so pretty

—

It’s been two weeks since Alexia had listened to your new album. In those two weeks, she broke up with her girlfriend, much to her now ex-girlfriend’s pleas.

Alexia was the one to break up with you. No real reason given, just something about needing space. Remembering back to that conversation, Alexia realizes how much hurt she caused you.

Walking around the neighborhood, seeing all the Christmas lights, it reminds her of how the both of you would walk this very same path, looking at all the lights. Christmas has always been your favorite holiday.

Feeling guilty, she scrolls through her contacts, thumb hovering over your name. Clicking on it, she hears the call ring for a bit, some good news that you haven’t blocked her number. Eventually it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, uh, it’s Alexia. Um, I’ve, uh, just been thinking about you lately. I’m walking and seeing all the lights and I remember how it was your favorite thing to do. And, uh, it’s been a year and I know I have a lot to apologize for. So, if you do get this, please call me back… I miss you. Bye.”

[rainybubbles]

How do you accidentally confess to COD men ?

Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Gaz, König, Alex, Price

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written)

S O A P :

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-Let's start over and try to understand this, shall we?

-Well, you were a nurse working on a military base.

-When all the doctors asked you to wake up at 3 AM, you knew something had happened. You ran to the infirmary and saw Soap.

-He was heavily injured.

-Your heart skipped a beat.

-You and Soap had known each other since his enlistment.

- You were just an apprentice nurse, and he was a cadet. He always burnt something, and you were there to look after him, even when he accidentally burnt the ass of his sergeant.

-You had a crush on him since that time, but you decided a long time ago not to act on it.

- Soap was clearly not interested in you, and he had gone out with a lot of people.

-You can definitely say you're not his type at all, and you like your bond the way it is.

-But now, seeing him like this, it was different. Your heart was overwhelmed, and your mouth spoke before you could filter what you said.

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not ethical at all. You need help, and I'm talking nonsense."

-You helped the doctors and quickly went outside when you finished, in order to think about what had just happened.

-"Shit, it was so awkward. I really thought we were in a movie or something," you said, angry at yourself.

-"Well, honestly, it was fun to see you like that. I mean, it could have been the climax of a movie if Ghost had started to play the violin, and a slow-mo started on your face," a voice joked.

-You turned around and saw Soap.

-"You're supposed to lay down. You can't walk."

-"What can I say? Seeing you make miracles," he says with a smirk.

-You sighed and walked towards him, offering your arms to lead him to a bed. He smiled.

-"I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have said that," you said.

-"But you mean it?"

-"That's not the point. It was not the moment, and I know the answer. It was just cringe."

-"...damn, loving me is cringe?" Soap said teasing you.

-"That's- you know that's not what I mean."

-"Yes, I know. I feel the same, by the way."

-"But you..."

-"It's been three months, I realize. I know it's longer for you."

-"You noticed," you realized, all these years thinking you were good at hiding it were in fact obvious to him.

-"Yes, but you decided not to tell anything, so I never acted on it. But I...I feel the same now, and you almost confessed, so can you give me a chance?"

-"You mean when you can take me on a date and not bleed to death?" you said, looking at his injuries.

-"Yes," he chuckled.

-"Okay," you whispered, scared that it was a dream.

-"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

G H O S T :

-"WHAT DO I DO NOW ?!" you screamed and looked at your friend.

-"Just...explain to him."

-"Oh yeah and how do you explain why I send him a fucking eggplant emoji at 4 AM without anything ?" you screamed panicked

-"Tell him the truth." your friend casually says.

-"He won't believe me. Like 'hey I sent you this emoji not because I want to fuck you, but because my brother sent me a lot of memes with eggplant so every night we sent this emoji to each other laughing. And I made a mistake and sent this to you, not him. Nobody does that. He won't believe me." you sigh."Oh fuck, he rode the text."

-"Well...he's your crush no ? I mean you talk about him often so if anything happens it could be good."

-"Yes he is, but I don't want to confess, not now. Fuck, I only met him like three times and only thanks to Soap. We're just acquaintance. I only have his number because I'm Soap's emergency contact."

-"And now he thinks you want to fuck him." your friends resumes

-"Thanks for your help." you say sarcastically."Shit he's writing, what would he say ?"

-"Well I bet on a peach emoji."

-You looked at your friend and showed them your middle finger.

-"What if I make things awkward and-"

-"You are always awkward."your friend interrupts you.

-"...thanks for your support." you said ironically.

-"I mean the worst is that he says no and when you'll meet again the only thing he remembers will be this fucking emoji. That's fine."your friend says.

-"No. I don't want to be the eggplant emoji in his mind."

-"It's too late."

-A ring interrupted your conversation.

-"It's him." you said looking at your notification.

-"And ?"

-"He sent a comma."

-"A comma?" your friend asks lost

-"Yes."

-"what does it mean ?"

-"I DON'T KNOW ! Does it mean he stops to breathe, or I should breathe or-"

-"Or he made a mistake and typed wrong."

-"No, he's good with his hands."

-"I don't want to know how you know that." your friend says looking at you

-"...I wasn't implying anything weird. He's a fucking military." you answered.

-"Ok. So what do you do ?"

-"I could send a comma too ?"

-"Yay revise your punctuations with Y/N and Ghost." your friend says ironically.

-"I...oh fuck, he sent another text."

-"And ?" your friend asks

-"Does the eggplant be used to convey a desire to meet me or is it some weird shit like Soap does usually,"you read out loud his text

-"he texts like a grandpa." your friend comments

-"Fuck you." you say.

-"Calm down, I'm just saying the truth. You should answer it's because you want him."

-"No way, I told you we're acquaintances. I have a crush yes, but we don't know each other well and I-"

-Ting.

-Another text from him.

-"Because it's okay in both cases." he texted you.

-"Oh fuck." you say with your eyes widen.

-"You can say that again !" your friend laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

-Being a soldier means living in a community. And even if sometimes you're lucky and have your own little room, it's obviously not a hotel.

-So when Alejandro was doing a patrol to check everyone was asleep, he didn't expect to overhear you.

- But it was normal, the walls were thin and he could hear Rudy's snore from here.

-So yes, he heard you talking in your sleep.

-Except it was a fever dream you were having, and it was his name you were whispering.

-He froze.

-He didn't want to intrude, so he stepped back, but it was too late.

- He heard you clearly because of those thin walls.

-The next morning, when all his soldiers were eating together and you were present he couldn't stop looking at you. He didn't know what to do.

-He was not a moron, and he didn't want to confront you about that, but keeping this silent was also horrible.

-"Everything is good, Ale?" Rudy asks.

-"...I overheard something."

-"Let me guess, two soldiers making out? It's like the fourth time this week. Are they rabbits or what?" Rudy sighs at the new cadets.

-"No, it was not two soldiers," Alejandro answers.

-"Oh." Rudy realizes, "oh. Well...it's also common to do it solo. Why are you making this a big deal?"

-"Because they say my name."

-Rudy chokes on his bread and starts laughing.

-"Why do you find this funny?" Alejandro whispers angrily.

-"Because you seem all flustered. You're usually a smooth talker, but you seem so shy about it. It's not the first time a soldier has a crush on you, Alejandro."

-"I know, but it's different."

-"And why is it different?"

-"It's them."

-Rudy smirks.

-"I see."

-"But I can't say I overheard them, but I want to tell them I feel the same. How do I do this when all I could think when I see them is this memory?"

-"Be honest, you don't know how to lie. You're an honest man, Alejandro."

-"You're right, I have to tell them," Alejandro says. He's brave, he can do that.

-"They're coming, good luck," Rudy says and winks.

-You sit at your usual place, greeting everyone, and look at Alejandro.

-"Is everything okay?" you ask him when you notice his expression.

-"I overheard you," he says blankly out of nowhere.

"...can you be more clear, because I have no idea what you're talking about?" you say lost.

-"Last night, I was checking if everyone was asleep and I overheard you saying my name in a feverish dream."

-You raise your eyebrows and smirk.

-"Is that so?"

-He notices the smirk.

-"Why are you smirking?"

-"Because I was on cleaning duty this night; it's Mina who was in my room."

-"Oh."

-"Yes. I guess you have to talk to her," you say.

-"You're right. Sorry, I didn't know."

-"That's okay, but if I may ask, what were you planning to do after telling me this?" you tease him.

He notices your playful tone and smirks back.

-"That you don't need to dream, you can have me in real life."

-"Smooth, really smooth, Alejandro."

He smiles.

-"So it's a yes?"

-"Yes, but you still have to talk to Mina. I wasn't joking; it was her in my room last night."

G A Z :

-It was a night mission.

-You were waiting with the 141 for the order to go.

-It's been hours since you were waiting, and you knew after this mission you probably couldn't see the 141 again.

-Because you were in a different unit, and your collaboration was only for this mission.

-So you knew it was probably the moment to shoot your shot with Gaz.

-You inhale and go to his figure lying in the dark.

- "Gaz, I know we get along with each other. I can't count how many nights we spent just talking to each other on the base or even how many times we laugh together.I...I'm interested in you in more of a friend way. I know it's horrible to say that now, but afterward, it will be too late. So yeah." You say.

-Silence.

-You only hear silence as the figure doesn't move.

-You feel your heart aching.

-Shit, is he rejecting you in silence without saying anything?

-You look at the ground.

-"I think you should activate your vision nocturne, soldier. Gaz is at your right."

-Shit.

-Shit, shit, shit.

- You open your eyes wide.

-You...you just confessed to Price thinking it was fucking Gaz.

-"Shit, I'm so so so sorry. I didn't mean that obviously. I-"

-"Calm down, soldier. And go talk to him. We still have time here, but look at who you're talking to." Price teases you.

-You nod and walk towards Gaz ashamed.

- "Are you okay?" Gaz asks.

-"I just made the worst mistake of my life."

-"What did you say? Did you say to Price he had a nice ass or what?" Gaz jokes to light up the mood.

- You stay silent.

-Gaz opens his mouth. "No, you-"

-"It wasn't his ass. But yeah, I basically confessed to him, because I mistook him for someone else. ?Because obviously in the dark without night vision you can't see anything."

-Gaz laughs.

-"Stop laughing, it's horrible. I'm the worst, he probably will report me."

-"No, he knew it wasn't for him, didn't he ?"

- "Yes, but it...I'm feeling so ashamed."

-"With who do you think mistake him for?" Gaz asks.

-"I don't answer that question. I have made enough confessions for today."

-"Come on, tell me."

-"Nope."

-"Let me guess then."

-"We're only five here, I don't want to let you guess."

-"Soap?"

-"Gaz, I said no."

-"Because if it's him, I don't think he-"

-"You. It was you." You say to shut him up. "Happy, now?"

-He stays silent. You look at him.

-"Yes," he says, smiling. "Even though I'm jealous that Price got the whole speech, it felt like I'm only having the crumbs." He teases you.

-"Shut up," you smile.

-"But I'm happy, I feel the same."

-"Good, because I have enough rejection for today."

-"Ohhhh, Price's rejection is not a good experience?" He jokes.

-"I could never again look at him in the eyes," you say.

K Ö N I G :

-"I thought you were just getting to know him," Soap says.

-"Yes. And that's why I was doing."

-"So could you explain how König ended up with his vest burnt if you were just talking ?" Gaz says skeptical.

-"I...well I was lighting the vanilla candle and he was here, with his eyes and I-"

-"You were checking him out and didn't pay attention to the matchstick, isn't it ?" Soap asks.

-"I was absorbed by his eyes ! They're like so beautiful and he was so close, I-"

-"You burnt his vest." Gaz says.

-"Thanks for the reminder, Gaz. I know now my chances are ruined with him. Shit. The worst is that I can't tell him why I accidentally burnt his vest, so now he thinks I hate him."

-"Well you could find an excuse." Soap says.

-"What excuse could explain a burnt vest, Mr. explosion ?" you asked.

-"You wanted to test if his vest was fireproof." Soap tried

-"..." you said.

-"..." Gaz said.

-Soap sighed.

-"Ok it's not a good one. But I'm trying to help, okay ?"

-"I have to tell him the truth. I don't want him to think I hate him. He's so gentle with us."

-"He's here. Go !" Gaz said as he pushed you.

-You opened your eyes wide. You didn't expect you would have to do that so soon.

-You walked anxiously towards him.

-When he saw you, he stepped back a little.

-It hurt you, but it was fair after the incident.

-"Hey, König, I- I wanted to explain what happened."

-He looked at you and just nodded, waiting for your explanation.

-"In fact I burnt your vest because I was admiring your eyes.I was gazing at you. And I didn't concentrate at all on the candle and I let the matchstick fall. I'm sorry."

-He opened his mouth. He didn't know what to say.

-"I- you were gazing at me ?"

-"Yes, I find you beautiful. But it's not an excuse for what happened. I should have paid more attention to the candle" you said honestly.

-"Thanks for the compliment and the apology"

-"I hope that you don't have any grudges, or you don't think I hate you. I wanted to make it clear."

-"Oh no, well, I know it was an accident. You seem..." he stopped himself to find the right word to described how much you were screaming and scared "terrified ?"

-"Yes." you confirmed.

-"So I knew it was not intentional, but I didn't understand why. But now I know."

-"Cool, so we're okay ?" you asked.

-"You don't want to know ?"

-"Know what ?"

-"If I find you beautiful too ? If I'm gazing at you sometimes ?"

-"Oh, no. I mean I didn't expect anything, so don't feel pressured or anything and-"

-"Because I do." he interrupts you.

-"Oh."

-"Yes."

-"So if I ask you on a date ?"

-"Yes."

-"Cool, cool, cool," you said anxiously but happy

-"Tonight ?" he asked.

-"YES ! I mean, yes of course."

-He smiled under his mask and left. You walked back to Soap and Gaz.

-"So ?" Gaz asked.

-"I have a date."

-"WHAT ?" Gaz said.

-" WHY DID Y/N HAVE A DATE WHEN THEY PUT HIM ON A FIRE AND I CAN'T EVEN HAVE ONE ?!" Soap whined

-You laughed. You didn't know why, but you definitely knew you were lucky he said yes.

A L E X :

-You were a barista at a coffee shop. You were taking Alex's order as usual, since he was a regular when your colleague interrupted you.

-"I prepared the order of the regular hottie you were talking about."

-You looked up at Alex.

-You looked at your colleague.

-He opened his eyes wide.

-"Oh shit" your colleague said.

-"I'm sorry Alex." You said, "This one is on the house and the next time my colleague will serve you. Sorry again." You gave him his coffee and left in the backs now not only your chances were ruined, but you could be possibly fired.

-Shit, it was unprofessional to talk with your colleagues about your crushes on some clients.

-But this was worst because the said client knew that now.

-He knew he was the hottie.

-"Hey", your colleague said after few minutes "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

-"That's okay you couldn't guess he was here. In fact you could because it was his order, but yeah..."

-"But I'm happy."

-"Happy ?" you said a little angry by his remarks now.

-"He let you that." he said giving you a paper.

-"What..." you took the paper and saw a number :"glad to be called a hottie by a hottie, call me."

-"oh wow"

-"It's like a romantic movie !"

-"Absolutely not."

-"YESSSSSSSS" your colleague teased you.

-"I'm just glad to not be fired right now."

P R I C E :

-You were an interpreter. During a long, boring brief, you were chatting with Gaz.

-"Nikolai, Lasswell, Price. Kiss, marry, kill," he says.

-"Lasswell is married, Gaz." you answer.

-"Then Ghost."

-"I kill Nikolai."

-"You dare to kill him!" Gaz says shocked.

-"I mean, I like him. He's a good guy, but I don't know him well. So yes, kill him, kiss Ghost, and marry Price."

-"Your judgment is so biased," Gaz says laughing.

-"Biased?"

-"You only marry Price because you like him."

-"Yeah, that's the point of the game. It's based on preferences, Gaz," you say.

-He smiles.

-"You don't deny what I say."

-"It's because that's obvious, I have a thing for him. Plus, everybody knows Price is like the perfect husband material."

-"Hmm, thanks for your comment," a voice says.

-You and Gaz look at each other.

-The whole room is staring at you.

-Lasswell points the microphone at your right, which is still on.

-"Fuck," you say and your voice echoes throughout the room.

-"Sorry about that," Gaz says, and he switches off the microphone.

-"We are so dead," Gaz says.

-"I am so dead, you mean. I'm surprised if they don't replace me with another interpreter at the end of the day."

-The meeting ends, but as Gaz and you are leaving, you hear Price calling you.

-You hesitate but walk towards him.

-"You know what I'm about to say."

-"Yes, Sir, it was inappropriate, and we should have paid attention to the brief. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. As you can guess, my goal was not to let this slip," you answer.

-Price nods.

-"Good. You can leave."

-You leave the room.

-You thought it was the end, Price clearly rejects you.

-Yet a few weeks later, when the mission ended, Price approached you.

-You were sitting at the bar with the 141 celebrating the success.

-"So you're not working with us anymore," he said.

-"Yeah, that's the end of my mission." You answered, smiling.

-"So it's not inappropriate if I ask you on a date?"

-"A date? Wait, you-"

-"I keep my work and personal life separated."

-"Shit, so if you didn't say anything, it was because we were colleagues."

-"And because it was fun to see you defeated," he chuckles.

-"You're mean." You laugh. "But that's a yes."

If you want more my Call of Duty masterlist : here

My masterlist : here

[hazelvrr]

Chapter 1: The fair

S/n: As promised here's chapter 1, let me know if I should continue with this fic as I've never written a full fic before so I might be rubbish, also it's not proofread but any mistakes should only be minor. No use of y/n. I tried to capture their personalities to the best of my ability but they are so funny that they're also extremely difficult to write. I tried to not repeat any scenes from the movie, they still happen unless I mention them differently but I didn't want to sound like a broken record.

Summary: you get ready with pj and josie for the fair and they question your friendship with hazel and then you see her at the fair.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

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

The fair was the one thing you looked forward to at the end of summer. Pretty much everything else about summer ending absolutely sucked but at least there was the fair.

Every year as soon as August rolled around, you were counting down the days until you could ride the ferris wheel, get cotton candy and most importantly, see hazel for the first time in 3 months.

Your 'best friend' hazel, if you could even call her that, volunteered at some charity or association of some sort all summer every single year without fail, so you couldn't see her for 3 months straight, which always drove you crazy.

You weren't quite sure why, after all, it was the same with pj and josie because they were away at some abstinence camp for the youth or as pj called it 'an anti sex cult run by a bunch of jealous old nuns who dont get any and are trying to ruin her life because shes hot as fuck' (her words, not yours) so you didn't see them either but you couldn't care less, so why were you so bothered about not seeing hazel?

Either way, you were super exited about this year's fair and had decided to get a ride from josie (only because you were embarrassed to tell anyone cool that you had failed your drivers test 5 times over the summer and had acctually managed to get yourself banned from the local dmv from 'assaulting your driving instructor' which you only did because he totally had it in for you) so naturally you thought it was a good idea to get ready at her house with her and pj.

BIG MISTAKE.

You should have known that pj and Josie, being the horny pervs that they are, spent the whole evening scheming about getting the cheerleaders attention, and how they were planning on getting possibly the straightest teenage girls you had ever seen in your whole life to fall head over heels for them.

Absolute losers.

You were so used to their antics that your brain had completely tuned them out as you applied your eyeliner, sitting beside pj, faces pushing eachother out of the way to fight to look in the tiniest mirror on josies desk.

You had stopped listening after josie had started ranting about the size of Jeff's penis, you were planning on stuffing your face with corndogs in less than an hour, and that was really putting you off the idea, that was until you heard josie say your name.

"Soo, have you spoken to hazel since school ended?"

Pj looks over at you with a shit eating grin on her face, "what she means to say is, have the two of you fucked yet?"

You roll your eyes at pj, not even dignifying her with an answer and turn your head to face josie, who was now stacking snapbacks on her head whilst looking in the mirror.

"To answer your question, yeah we've facetimed a few times and texted a lot."

"Oooo phone sex," pj giggles, "kinky."

You just flick pj in the head and begin applying your lipgloss.

Josie picks up one of the snapbacks from the floor and launches it at pjs head and instead misses and knocks over the mirror.

"Dude what the fuck." Pj hisses, standing up to go over to josies closet door to look at her outfit in the full length mirror, posing and checking herself out.

"Seriously though, when are you going to make a move?" Josie asks, backing away from pj and going to sit on the bed.

You look at her with a confused expression, "what do you mean, we're just friends."

Josie cocks her eyebrow and smirks, "please, you've been in love with her since 5th grade, you know it, I know it, pj knows it, pretty much everyone in a 10 mile radius can see it, except for hazel herself since she's an oblivious dork, but that's besides the point."

You go to answer but pj comes back over and sits back down next to you and you take the opportunity to escape and use the bathroom.

You take your time in there staring into the glass, turning your body around, checking that your hair is straight, your makeup looks good in natural lighting, oh and that your cleavage is poking through your tank top just enough, for no particular reason other than looking hot for yourself (well, that's what you told yourself anyways).

As you open the bathroom door to return to josies bedroom you hear pj and josie whispering, and being as nosy as you are, you press your ear up against the door to listen to what they're saying.

"Shhh she's gonna hear you" josie hushes.

"Shut up no she's not, that bitch couldn't hear a rocket land if it landed on the roof."

"How much did you say you wanna bet again?"

"50 bucks. If by the end of the school year they haven't fucked, I owe you 50 bucks, but if they have, you owe me 100."

"How the fuck does that work, why do I owe you double?"

"Because I'm fucking awesome... okay because I'm broke as hell and am gonna need the contribution for my homecoming dress so I can look sexy for brittany, duh."

"Yeah yeah whatever, its a deal, I think she's coming."

You once again roll your eyes at how pathetic they are. You swear to god that if you spent any more time with them than you already do, your eyes would permanently be fixed in the back of your head.

"Hey guys, you ready to go it's almost 8," you suggest as you open the door, "josie, what the hell do you think you're wearing?!"

"What do you mean?" She looks down confused at her spiritual playboy shirt, 5 carabiners hooked onto her pants' belt loops and her arm sling on her right arm.

"You look like dyke throw-up," pj cackles, standing up from the desk and following you both out of the bedroom door.

Josie looks back at pj as you're all walking down the stairs, "pj you can't say anything, look at you, you've got suspenders over your nipples like a goddamn freak."

Pj flips her off from behind her head and you can't help but giggle as you follow them out to the car and hop in the backseat.

"How'd you break your arm again josie?" You lean forward and ask as josie turns the keys and reverses out of her driveway.

"She flunked out of anti horny camp and fell out of her bunk rubbing one out," pj replies casually, looking down at her phone that displays brittanys Instagram posts from the summer, "fuck, she got even hotter over summer, how's that even possible?"

"Is isabel in any of the photos?" Josie questioned desperately, sneaking a peak down at pjs phone as she pulls up to a red light.

"God you're both pathetic."

You finally arrive to the fair, granted you're 20 minutes late because josie circled the parking lot at least 10 times as pj yelled at her to just fucking park, but josie wanted to make sure she could find a big enough spot.

You hand over your tickets and walk in, they're both muttering about something or other but you're not really listening, you're just scanning for hazel until you feel a tap on your shoulder and nearly jump out of your skin.

"Hey guys," hazel smiles, bringing you in for a hug, "long time no see, wait.. pj, josie, you never come to the fair?"

You point over at isabel and brittany standing a few feet away, where they had been gawking at them for the past 5 minutes.

"Ah, I see," She nods, I haven't seen you In ages I've missed you."

"Yeah.. me too," you blush, looking down at your shoes.

"Oh shit what happened to josies arm?"

"Masterbating."

"What, is her vagina made out of concrete or something?"

"No what? Hazel, she fell out of her bunk," pj scoffs.

"Can everyone please stop talking about my vagina?" Josie interjects.

"Soo hazel, what's this I hear about you volunteering at a slop farm?" Pj questions.

"The national meat association? Yeah it was good," hazel replies, "so did you guys get up to anything crazy over summer?"

"Yeah we killed this girl at camp for snitching on josie, got arrested, taken to Juvie and spent the rest of summer there, nearly died but they let us go when we told them that we're dykes and called them homophobic," pj explains sarcastically.

"What?! Are you guys okay?"

Josie facepalms.

You were about to explain that pj was being sarcastic when you hear cheering and you all look over to see Jeff appearing with the rest of the football team.

You all exchange disgusted looks and then pj notices that isabel and brittany are walking in your direction.

She snatches your corndog out of your hand and hands it to josie and then takes hazels cotton candy and hands her a wad full of tickets. Her and josie anxiously keep swapping the corndog and cotton candy mumbling to eachother until isabel and brittany are standing right infront of you all.

Josie drops her corndog, well actually YOUR corndog and kicks it away in hopes of isabel not noticing but both isabel and brittany look down and watch her do it, then look back up at her and raise their eyebrows.

"Hey can I uh, get my cotton candy back?" Hazel asks as she reaches forwards towards pj to grab it, but instead is hit in the head with it by pj who just ignores her and takes a bite out of it.

You look at hazel and shrug your shoulders, jerking your head to turn her attention back to the disaster of a conversation going on between the four of them.

"Oh hey, didn't see you there," brittany says to you poking her head round to look at you, "how's your summer been?"

"Yeah it's been good," you reply, "looking forward to cheering again though I've really missed it, what about you guys?"

"Yeah, I've been practicing all summer I'm really looking forward to getting back into it!" Isabel smiles, stepping forward.

The conversation goes on for a painful amount of time, every second making you want to gouge your eyeball out with a fork as you just make ridiculous faces at hazel, who just looks back at you the same way before giggling.

You went to follow pj and josie out to josies car when hazel quickly follows, "I can drive you home if you want, your on the way and I doubt you want to listen to another second of them babbling on about isabel and brittany."

"Yeah that would actually be great, thank you."

"No trouble at all," She says, "plus, it's an excuse to speak to you, we haven't had much of a chance to talk tonight."

She pulls out her car keys and unlocks her car, of course its a range rover. Her mom gave it to her as a pity gift when her dad left which obviously didn't fix the issue but hazel didn't complain and just accepted the car, even though she wasn't old enough to drive at the time, which her mom forgot because she barely pays any attention to her own daughter.

The drive is only 5 minutes long, since you live so close, so you don't get long to chat, but she tells you all about the meat association and the cool tshirt she got to wear, even showing you a photo when she pulls up on your driveway.

You lean over and give her a hug, "see you at school tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," She grins, "meet me outside to walk in together?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Once you had kicked off your shoes and lazily removed your makeup, you got changed and plopped onto your bed.

Tonight was so chaotic yet for some reason you weren't thinking about pj and josies funny attempt at flirting or how they had made complete asses out of themselves, only about the drive home with hazel, how her hair blew in the wind, framing her face perfectly, how her hand gripped the steering wheel as she reversed out of the parking lot and how her eyes practically lit up when she was talking to you about her voluntary work over the summer.

You try to sleep but instead you lay awake for hours staring at your ceiling thinking about it. You simply cannot get her out of your head.

Huh. Maybe, just maybe, you did like hazel callahan? No. Surely not. Unless...

[morgana-larkin]

I got a prompt messaged to me from someone who would like to remain anonymous. The prompt is: Ok basically the reader is pregnant and Melissa is super protective. And they are married. Also somehow in the fic Mel got reader pregnant (like magic baby - or something like that)

I really liked the prompt and had a lot of fun writing the fic. So just pretend that Mel can get reader pregnant when she cums inside her. I mean it’s fanfiction, not realistic. Lol. Anyway…it’s basically just under 3000 words of protective and sweet Mel. I’m thinking of maybe writing a part 2 of Mel and reader has parents more since I wrote more of reader being pregnant. Let me know if you would want a part 2. As always, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: On to the Chessy prompts! I would also like to thank my 2 birds for not repeating any words that I said when tumblr glitched while I was posting this and I had to restart it.

Mine

Warnings: smut, so much sweet Mel it’ll warm your heart (I mean it did for me and I wrote it 🫠), a bit of swearing at Mel but it’s funny

Words: 2.9k

Your hands clutch ginger hair as lips suck your nipple and you let out a gasp. The same lips go to your other nipple and sucks on it as well. That mouth is fucking magical with your body and those lips trail a path of kisses up to your lips and kisses you. As the kiss ends, you look up and see the lust in the eyes of your wife Melissa. Melissa is teasing your entrance with your fingers right now and she goes to lick the outer skin of your ear and give little bites and you let out a whine.

“Something you want, Amore Mia?” Melissa whispers seductively in your ear.

“Mel…baby, I need you.” Is all you manage to say.

“I’m right here Amore.” She teases you and pulls back to see your face and you look up and see the smile, the same smile that you love.

“I need you inside of me.” You tell her and she grins.

“As you wish Mia Amore.” She tells you then lines her strap with your entrance and enters you fully. You gasp in pleasure and your wife smiles at you and gives you a second. You nod then she starts moving in and out of you slowly then speeds up. “You’re so beautiful Amore, so fucking beautiful.” She says and you grab her head and pull her down to kiss her. You love it when she compliments you, it’s one of your love languages and she knows it and she loves complimenting you.

Melissa goes to rub your clit as she’s close since the strap is rubbing her clit everytime she moves. “Mel I’m so close…so fucking close.”

“Let go Amore, I’m so close too.” She tells you and that pushes you over the edge as you come with a moan, your wife comes right after and you feel it drip inside of you.

*3 months later*

You make it to the toilet just in time to lift it and throw up as Melissa holds your hair up. Melissa ran after you, knowing you’re experiencing morning sickness again.

“It’s ok Amore, let it all out. Not disappointed at all that our baby is rejecting my food.” She jokes and you laugh then throw up again. Melissa rubs your back soothingly and you lean into her touch. “I’m sorry that you keep having morning sickness everyday.” She tells you with an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok, we wanted to become mothers and I’m happy you got me pregnant.” You tell her and she smiles warmly at you. “I hope they have your hair and eyes.” You add and she laughs.

“Well I hope they have your cute little nose and chin.” She says as she boops your nose and you giggle. “Are you done?” She asks and you nod and flush the toilet. She lets go of your hair and helps you up. She gets you some water, mouthwash and gum to which you accept all gratefully.“We gotta go to work now Amore.” She tells you and you nod.

You both get into the car and she drives you both to school. You both met at Abbott when you started there 6 years ago. She tried to avoid you at first but couldn’t resist your charm and became attracted to you and you couldn’t help but get attracted to her either. She got the courage to ask you out after flirting for 6 months then got married 4 years later.

You both walk into the break room with one of her arms around your waist. “Here, sit down and I’ll make you some tea to hopefully get right of that morning sickness again.” She tells you and you nod.

“Still having morning sickness every day?” Barb asks and you nod.

“That little Tesoro keeps rejecting my food. Starting to wonder if they’re actually mine.” She teases. You give her a look and she smirks at you and giggles. “Here you go Amore.” She says as she hands you the tea and sits down beside you. “You’re starting to show Amore. I still can’t believe we’re having a baby.” She tells you excitedly.

“Well I haven’t had sex with anyone else so it’s obviously yours.” You joke to her and she laughs. From the moment you both found out that you’re pregnant, she vowed to protect you and the little Tesoro at all costs. She already protected you anyways, she’s even punched a guy in the face at a bar when he wouldn’t let you go.

*3 more months later*

“Hey baby.” You ask Melissa as you’re laying in bed and she’s brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed.

“Yes Amore?” She tells you and spits the toothpaste out of her mouth into the sink.

“The little devil is kicking inside me again.” You tell her with a pout and she giggles.

“Give me 2 minutes and I’ll scold them.” She tells you with a laugh.

“I still don’t know why they only listen to you. They’re already favourtising.” You pout and she laughs again.

“Oh hun, don’t worry, they’ll love you as well.” She says as she gets into bed next to you.

“I hope so. I’m the one carrying the devil.” She smiles at you and gives you a kiss on the lips. She then puts her head on your thigh and talks to the baby.

“Little Tesoro, what did I say about kicking mommy?” She says and rubs your belly. As she rubs it, she suddenly feels a kick and jolts up then looks at you then back to the belly then back to you. “Was that a kick?” She says and you nod.

“I’m happy that you finally felt one.” You say. You told her the baby kicked for the first time 2 weeks ago and she pouted as she missed it. She tries to get them to kick again but never catches it. This was the first time. You look at your wife who’s watching your belly and her eyes start to fill with tears. “Oh come here baby.” You tell her and open your arms out to hug her. She moves and puts herself in your arms and rests a hand on your stomach. “Of course they stop kicking me after you talk to them. I was telling them to stop for 5 minutes.” You say and she lets out an airy laugh. “They better listen to me when they’re outside the womb.” You complain and your wife looks at you with a smile.

“I’m sure they will.” She says and kisses you. You could find out the gender at your ultrasound next week but you both want it to be a surprise. “Do you have any ideas for girl names?” She asks and you nod.

“I was thinking Caterina.” You say and she lifts her head and looks at you surprised.

“You want to name the baby after me?” She asks and you nod.

“I remember the meaning of your middle name when you told me. Pure. Which both you and the little one are.” You tell her and her eyes fill up with tears again.

“What about boy names?” She asks as she curls up in your arms again.

“I thought of Luca, meaning…”

“Light.” She finishes for you with a smile.

“Ya, do you have any ideas?” She nods.

“For a boy I was thinking Nico, and for a girl I was thinking Amelia. If it’s a girl and we name her Amelia then you can nickname both of us Mel.” She states proudly and you laugh. “Are you sure you want to go with an Italian name? Cause we don’t have too.” She says and you smile at her.

“I already told you that I want to do an Italian name. I love a lot of Italian names that I saw when looking. Your name is Italian and I love it.” You tell her and she kisses you.

You’ve been getting a lot of attention lately with your belly since you’re 6 months pregnant and a lot of people have been touching your stomach and it’s driving Melissa insane. She keeps giving glares and sometimes actually grabs the hand on your belly and pulling it off. She doesn’t like people, that’s not her, touching you.

She did that with Janine last week. Janine touched your belly but then Melissa came into the break room and saw it. She quickly stood beside you and pushed Janine’s hand off then hugged you and mumbled “mine” while glaring at Janine. A few parents have been doing it too but then quickly stopped when Melissa kept coming beside you with an arm around your waist and glaring at them.

You and Melissa have started building the baby room with a crib, a rocking chair, a little bookshelf with baby books to read to them and a couple stuffed toys.

Every day at lunch, she kept moving a chair over so you can put your feet up and then after a week, the chair suddenly stayed there, you think Melissa had something to do with that. Every morning and afternoon or whenever the halls were busy, she wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you through the hallway of children so you didn’t fall.

Melissa keeps attending to your cravings every day, she always asks what you’re craving tonight before she makes supper. She makes whatever you’re craving for you and sometimes has to make something for herself if she refuses to eat what you’re craving.

“Your cravings are getting worse.” She told you one night and you pout.

“Tell that to the little one, not me.” She laughs and does just that.

“Tesoro, will you start craving some Italian food, your mommy is missing my cooking.” She tells your belly and you giggle.

“I really am.” You say and she smiles and kisses your forehead.

You go on maternity leave a month later and you’re bored out of your mind. Melissa texted you on your first week off at every chance she got and video chatted you on lunch and during her prep period. When she got home she cuddled with you on the couch and nuzzled her head on your chest and talked to your belly while listening to your heartbeat. The first time she heard the baby’s heartbeat she was filled with tears and she got a video of it and plays it all the time.

She helps you up the stairs ever night, she started that when you were 5 months pregnant and she hasn’t stopped. She got you a little shower seat when you couldn’t stand for long without your back hurting too much. Every night she motions for you to lay down between her legs and gives you a small shoulder and neck massage. She’s always careful and makes sure not to push on any point that might send you into early labour. You usually fall asleep between her legs while she massaged you and she quickly became an expert at removing herself and lying down beside you without waking you up.

As for the sex, your sex drive went through the roof when you hit 4 months pregnant and it hasn’t slowed down since. The first day it hit you, you two had sex 4 times, she didn’t complain at all. At least until it happened 5 days straight and you kept waking her up at midnight cause you woke up horny and couldn’t fall back asleep. She’s given you quickies many times in the car before school, during lunch and after school. A few times she’s even done it in school in one of your classrooms as you two both had a prep period at the same time, she had to cover your mouth the entire time. She had to get a vibrator for you that was quiet in case it got really bad and you needed to get off and she was either busy or tired.

It seems the more pregnant you get, the more touchy and protective she gets. She’s next to you as much as possible and always has an arm on or around you somewhere. She wants to cuddle all the time at home while talking to the baby. In public places, like the grocery store, she usually has an arm wrapped around your waist as you push the cart. If you need anything, even small things, like refilling your water bottle, then she’s on in a second.

In your 8th month is when she was full on momma bear. She kept insisting that you stay seated, she went grocery shopping alone or said you had to be in a wheelchair if you came with her (which you stayed in the car every time), she got whatever you needed so you wouldn’t have to stand and got you headphones so you can listen to music if the baby was being a little devil and she wasn’t around. One day you did trip and fall on your stomach and she rushed you to the hospital and they told both of you the baby was fine after checking. And that only made her more protective and you barely stood all day.

One day while she was at work, you felt contractions getting closer and closer together. You thought it was Braxton Hicks contractions since you're only 8 months pregnant but they didn’t stop, you knew you were in labour. You quickly called Melissa to which she immediately threatened Ava to sub for her and rushed home to bring you to the hospital.

The labour was long, it was 10 hours before the little Tesoro was born. You kept swearing and yelling at Melissa, especially when she kept telling you to breathe like you both were shown in parenting classes. Barb was there too, holding your other hand and kept trying not to laugh when you kept yelling at Melissa

“I AM FUCKING BREATHING!” You yelled at her ones. “YOU GOT ME INTO THIS MESS *screams when contraction hits* YOU FUCKING BITCH!” She didn’t take any of it personally.

“That’s it, let it all out, yell at me about anything and call me whatever you want.” She told you when you first started yelling at her. At one point, one contraction got so bad that nothing she was saying was helping so she screamed with you.

When you were pushing, she kept telling you that you’re doing great and to keep pushing.

“I AM FUCKING PUSHING SO FUCK OFF! TELL ME TO PUSH ONE MORE TIME AND I’LL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!” You yelled at her when you got annoyed.

“And I’ll still love you.” She replied to that and kept holding your hand. You squeezed so hard while pushing that you almost broke her hand, she didn’t complain about it at all. The baby finally came and they said it was a girl. As soon as they brought her to you for skin to skin contact, you named her.

“Hi, little Amelia.” You said and she looked at you and welled up with tears.

“You went with my choice?” She said and you nodded.

She kissed you while the baby was on your chest and Barb took a picture of you all as a family for the first time. After 10 minutes of skin to skin, then you handed Amelia over to Melissa to hold. As soon as the baby was in her arms, she started crying while talking to her daughter for the first time face to face.

“Hi my little Tesoro. So you’re the little trouble maker who kept kicking your mommy.” She joked and you laughed. Melissa looked at her daughter with little ginger hairs and her green eyes with your little nose and chin, just like you both imagined.

“My two Mel’s.” You said to her as she held the baby and she giggled.

You fell asleep after breastfeeding Amelia for the first time, and Melissa stayed awake and held Amelia while sitting in the chair next to your bed. She kept humming or singing some Italian lullabies that she sang to your belly at night when you were pregnant.

Melissa got a month off of work after Amelia was born. Ava had it all set up for her when Melissa requested a month off after the baby was born when you went on maternity leave.

The first month you both kept taking turns when Amelia cried. You had to use the breast pump and a bottle as she was premature and couldn’t suck the milk out of your breasts long enough.

After a month, Melissa had to go back to work and kept calling you and requesting pictures throughout the day. The first day she went back to work, you brought Amelia to see her at work at lunchtime. Although you were a little early and got there a few minutes before lunch and surprised Melissa at her classroom. All her students said “aww” when Melissa held her baby before class ended. At lunchtime she brought you and Amelia to the break room and introduced Amelia to everyone.

Barb held her first, even though she visited a few times in the first month to help you guys get some proper sleep. All of them took turns holding Amelia for a few minutes and then handed her back to Melissa who smiled at her daughter and held your waist.

Barb looked at her best friend and couldn’t be happier for her as she looked the happiest she’s ever been, holding her daughter and her wife at the same time.

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[unknownperson246]

a/n: could you make a fic where you’ve basically grew up best friends with izzy and he’s like 17 and you’ve just only developed your body later than the other girls, you hang out at your house eating chips and watching a film and he notices your cleavage when you’re sat down n he gets all flustered n horny 😭😭

Sure thing ❤️

Horny:

Words: 728

Warnings: *smut* *p in v* *losing virginity* *fluff* *mentions of masturbating* *cussing* *come play?*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

It was the year 1979. You just turned 17. You were a young and smart kid. At least that is what you have been told your whole life. You wanted to break free. You wanted to rebel as a teenager would. You loved driving your parents and other adults insane. You were a quiet kid and you had a quiet best friend. You both grew up together and he did almost everything with you. When you didn’t want to talk to anyone he was there to help you. You were at home one summer afternoon. Your mom and dad weren’t at home. They were both stuck at work. Your body just developed 3 months ago during Junior year. You were snacking on chips that you had dumped in a bowl for you and Izzy. You were watching a sex scene with amazement. You were talking to Izzy about the sexy scene that was unraveling in front of the small box.  Izzy was smiling trying to hide his dirty thoughts about you while you were watching the sex scene. Izzy dropped something from his pocket on the ground trying to hide the bulge that grew underneath his pants. He picked it up and he noticed your tits at the angle his head was at. He got flustered seeing your cleavage. He was getting so horny watching your tits perk up and down. Izzy couldn't handle it anymore; he needed you. He was really needy for your pussy. He was so attracted to your body. He got closer to you and he went straight to your chest. You paused the movie. You were flustered. Izzy was just as horny as you were now. You were shocked but you liked how he kissed you. You put the chips on the side and you got on his lap. You could feel his bulge touching your leg. 

“Someone’s hard” You giggle like the immature teenager you were.

“So so hard Y/N” Small bits of laughter were coming out of his mouth. 

Izzy smiled as your face got closer to his. You let yourself put your lips on his. Soon you both would be making out with your tongues. You felt yourself getting wet from his touch. You undid your pants and threw them off.  You repeated this process with both of your and Izzy’s clothes. You discarded them on the floor. It was both of your guys' first time. You didn't really have any experience in this department. You went with whatever felt right. You felt your pussy pulsing for him to be inside of you. You grabbed Izzy’s dick stroking it a couple of times and then you placed it on your entrance. Chills went down both of your spines. Your pussy and his dick finally got the attention they both craved for. You felt your pussy quivering as soon as Izzy slipped inside of you. Your mind went blank not caring for anything around you. You started to bounce up and down in his lap creating that magical friction that you both always wonder what it felt like. You both always masturbated but it was nothing compared to feeling someone against you and thrusting inside of you as fast as lightning. His member kept moving fast inside of you. 

“Oh fuck” You moan. 

Instinctively your arms wrapped around him trying to get him to stay inside of you for longer. 

“Ke- keep going Iz,” You said out of breath. 

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and sluggish. You started to bounce up and down more trying to get your orgasm quicker. You felt this feeling for the first time. You felt your stomach knot up and you felt your legs shaking. Your head went back involuntarily. Your back did the same. You momentarily felt some icky substance leave your body.

“Fuck. Fuck” Izzy groaned. He finally came but once he recognized he did he withdrew. He came all over the top of your thighs. 

You both smiled as you both realized you finally came for the first time. Best of all you both did it together. You had feelings for your best friend Izzy for a long time. You wanted to show him how much you appreciate him. He felt the same way towards you. Soon after being best friends, you both started to see each other as something more than that.