#i think i’d be a lot more likely to like it if it was an established alternate timeline

[patchouii]

Hmmmm….. I think they both work out a similar amount in terms of gym type stuff off-screen (they both have very toned biceps and calves, it’s probably a habit from Will’s cop days and something Hannibal does to stay prepared) but Hannibal is definitely more knowledgeable with hand-to-hand combat methods and more agile. Will, however, beat Randall to death while he was covered in metal and resin plating without batting an eye, and Hannibal canonically doesn't use or like guns much, Will does. They’re an inch apart in height and somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 years apart in age at best show timeline estimate (it’s actually Mads and Hugh who are 10 years apart, we have no consistent “official” record of their canon ages).

I’d say they’re comparable in both physical and mental strength, but consistent specific practice and a range of marital experience makes a difference. I don’t think Chiyoh is unfit at all, really, she’s the warden of Hannibal’s family manor and goes hunting a lot, he wouldn’t leave that duty to someone who couldn’t defend themselves and their charge well. She is more slender, though. Hannibal has an incredibly high pain tolerance threshold, some of it’s probably natural, more of it is due to him likely having trained himself and the severe exposure of his trauma during his formative years. So I’d definitely place my bets on Hannibal, but he’d take a hard beating on his way to winning.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Azul Ashengrotto: Like a Million Bucks

Bro literally looks like a Kdrama CEO 💀 or an expensive box of seashell-shaped chocolates… The groovy, meanwhile, is very Miles Edgeworth-coded!

Feel like his bedhead shout have been something more.. Ursula quaff shaped 🐙

Rise and Shine!

Azul peered into the vanity mirror and frowned.

Hair disheveled and sticking up. Pajamas and night robe in the place of a suit and jacket. Nose and brows scrunching in an unpleasant, sour expression. Remnants of sleep still clinging desperately to him.

How unseemly, Azul huffed, his expelled breath setting a few silvery locks swaying like seaweed upon a current.

“I can’t allow myself to be seen in public like this,” he muttered, running the teeth of a comb through his tresses. No client or business partner would take him seriously! “This shall soon be corrected.”

Dipping into a tub, Azul slathered his fingers in styling gel and began to massage the product in. The flyaways smoothed out, turning glossy and neat. He surveyed his reflection again, this time smiling smugly at the perfected groomed image that returned his gaze.

Now here was a something worthy of showing the world. An Azul Ashengrotto looking like a million bucks.

“That’s better.”

“What is?” you asked, peeking out from behind him. A second you emerged in the mirror’s face—and Azul startled, nearly dropping his items. Shock smeared the cocky confidence right off of him and set his spectacles askew.

“Wh-What… When did you get here?!” he demanded, scrambling to adjust his glasses. A part of him cringed at the unintended vocal crack—a weakness shining through his armor.

“Oh, a little while ago,” you replied nonchalantly, holding up a rolled up newspaper. His usual. “This was at the front door. I figured I’d let myself in and bring it to you since I already got here early.”

“Yes—well…!” Azul faltered, but he managed to reel himself back in. “Ah-HEM! Thank you for doing me the favor of retrieving my paper. I’ve been looking forward to catching up on the latest in stock market trends. Next time, it will not be necessary. Please wait for me to come to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing it again. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal when there is intrusion of a man’s privacy involved,” he corrected, tutting. “I was just in the middle of making myself presentable. What if you had waltzed in at an inopportune time and caught me right as I had woken up? Oh, the state I would be in!"

You cocked your head in confusion. “… I don’t get it, you’re always presentable.”

He laughed, light yet bittersweet. "You mustn't lie. Lying is most unkind of you. It takes hard work and effort to appear as I do and to maintain it."

"Yeah, of course I get that. You do a lot to come off as cool and put-together, like some big, bad businessman. But still... I dunno, I think you're plenty appealing when you have your guard down too." You shrugged, poking him in the chin with the newspaper. "Squishy and cute, like an octopus."

"You sound positively ridiculous," he grumbled with a sigh. "Jade and Floyd must have wormed their way into your mind and polluted your thoughts."

"It's the truth. No matter what the situation, Azul is always cute! So cute it's hard not to gobble you up."

"W-Would you stop saying that!!" he hissed through his teeth, telltale red splotches appearing on his cheeks. Azul hastily glanced over his shoulder and at the washroom doorway, as if expecting the twins to be looming there, snickering at his distress. "What if someone hears?! It would be a stain on my reputation!!"

"Eh? It's not like its news to anyone though. Everyone with good taste knows..."

"Wh-What?! S-So you're implying that the entire student body believes that?!" He paled, his pupils becoming pinpricks. "Where did I go wrong with my PR?"

Azul whipped away from you, receding into his night robe, head hung low. He raked both hands through his hair, releasing a whiny wail. “Enough already…! I can’t take any more of this!!”

Ah, he's retreated into a makeshift octopot to sulk.

You chuckled as you approached on swift feet. Looping your arms around him, you hugged Azul from behind. He quieted, tensing at your touch.

A single questions hovered.

“What are you up to now?”

“This Azul is fine, too,” you reassure him quietly. “Every Azul is. The strong Azul, the weak Azul… they’re all worth a million bucks and more.”

“… H-Hmph.” You didn’t miss how his voice slightly quivered before fully hardening into ice. “If you think that this flattery will make up for your brazen comments from earlier, then you are sorely mistaken.

“I fully intend to demonstrate to you the full extent of my capabilities! You will have no choice but to take me seriously. Fufufu…”

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ “Behave” — JJK Men

Synopsis:- They’re all gentlemen, at least they try to be, but then, just what can a man do when you’re literally, asking for it?

— A/n:- because chemistry sucks ass and rather than that, I’d rather get scolded by a man🤭+it is sorta rushed

— Word Count:- 0.9k

— Warnings:- smut!!MDNI!!Geto + Gojo + Nanami x reader (separately); brat taming; slight humiliation (just a bit mean sided); hints of oral (male receiving); spanking (very light?); hints of edging; idk rest just yea<3 (not proofread!!); sir kink with Geto; name calling; porn w/o plot lol

Suguru Geto:-

Suguru Geto holds the patience of a priest, quiet simply, and punishes like the God Complex he’s built himself around. Nothing ever truly goes unnoticed by him, watching intently as he counts each strike—it’s true, often he’ll punish you in spite of it—but more often than not (because you’re a decent brat too) he finds himself giving all that you perfectly deserve.

“How many do you deserve?” he murmured against your skin, hands bound with the pretty handcuff, the one he insisted upon buying—face shoved deep into the white sheets and ass up and facing him.

Fingers playing with the loose sheets, you smirked, “20?” You reply was short, almost sweet and innocent.

Suguru didn’t budge, he knew it—a smirk he adorned too, “I think that’s a lot doll let’s do a little less than half of it, ok?” A sharp slap landed on your rear—a rough squeeze.

You whined simply, in response—he knew however, spankings weren’t all so much a punishment for you as much as the pleasure it passed you.

And he wasn’t having it tonight, not when you were audacious enough to insult him in front of his friends.

“That’s very less su’- ah!” A squeal you let out when another sharp slap crashed upon—“Sir! That’s far too less sir,” your correction amused him still.

“You think 8’s less doll?” And just something about the edge in his voice alerted you, “Last time you were crying and writhing when I edged you 5 times—but if that’s what you want…”

A smirk and a whine let out together.

Satoru Gojo:-

Satoru Gojo is all by himself, the embodiment of a brat—so to seek out ways to thin his patience is almost stupid. But stupid is as stupid does— a challenge shouldn’t go wasted right? Satoru doesn’t need reasons to punish you, at least, that’s what he makes it seem like, but he remembers and he remembers well.

Back pressed against his chest, you nuzzled deeper—aware perfectly of the uncomfortable hard-on your almost bare ass, pressed against his crotch, caused him.

A whine he let out- hands groping your breasts roughly, kneading and pressed together, “Don’t fucking tease me,” he muttered against the sensitive skin of your neck, you grinned.

“Awh, poor Toru’ can’t take it?” And you were sure you almost head a purr at that, “don’t push it princess,”

Another whine, when you pushed your ass against his dick further, “Push what Toru?” The little pout your lips held drove him crazy as that.

“That’s it,” he growled right there—“you asked for the punishment,”

An amused look you offered, “Because you can’t control your dick? What are you 12?” You knew your words only tipped him more, but he was just always worse at the game than you ever could be, “For cumming and soiling those pretty panties I bought you, especially when I wasn’t home,” you eyes went wide, and his smirk—not one thought sprang your head, how did he know that?

“Or for those shorts you wore when Nanami was over, wanted him to check out this sweet ass angel?” You squealed as his hand pinched your ass.

“Maybe for the nudes you kept sending me during my missions hm? But the real question is, what should I even do hm?”

Before anything could even register inside your head, he had already manhandled you between his legs, kneeling on the bed as he sat legs wide.

“Go on,” he grinned, “Only I deserve the pleasure tonight yeah?”

Nanami Kento:-

Nanami Kento is a man of few words and perfect ideals—you almost knew what you were getting into, except, you didn’t. Kento wasn’t exactly strict, he let you as you pleased- he liked it feisty, but there were moments of his own. And sometimes, he just couldn’t help the sudden flare of anger bubbling up.

Your head bobbed along the length of his shaft- your mouth was getting sore for that was how he’d kept you for the past 15 minutes, kneeling under his table, your warm mouth keeping him occupied while he worked—all so because you couldn’t help your need for attention.

A glare he passed when you let out a whine, eyes flitting onto the door handle, making sure no one would enter and suddenly, he pulled out—making you whine all the louder.

“Just don’t fucking get it, do you?” His words were harsh, so contrasting to the usual Kento he offered in your gaze, “Just wanna be fucked in front of everyone like a slut,” his fingers gripped your jaw tight, “that’s what the slut wants hm? For everyone to see just how good your mouth takes me?”

You loved it, the intense gaze in his eyes, the rough embrace he offered and mean words—he knew you loved it.

“Tongue out,” he ordered, and you did as he pleased—an amused smile tugged at his lips.

Plap-plap-plap—he slapped the tip of dick against your tongue, it felt so filthy this way—“good pet,” he murmured, “gonna have you hold it 15 more minutes, this is the only way you’ll learn to hold your tongue yeah?”

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Reblogs and likes highly appreciated!

[luvst4rc0r3]

CAN YOU WRITE A JINX X F!READER WHERE READER HAS A KID AND JINX DOESNT KNOW IT YET??

TY IF YOU DO

Yess I love this request

“Unexpected Visit”

It’s a Saturday morning, the sunlight spilling lazily through your kitchen window as you scramble around trying to keep things in order. Your little one is still sleeping, curled up on the couch with a blanket tangled around them like a cocoon. You’ve got a coffee in hand, a mountain of laundry to fold, and the last thing on your mind is anything chaotic—until the doorbell rings.

You freeze.

Jinx.

You glance at the clock. It’s just past noon. No one ever visits unannounced, except… her. You didn’t expect her to pop by today, especially after the week you’ve had. You wipe your hands on your apron and head for the door.

When you open it, she’s standing there, her hair a mess, an eager grin stretched across her face. Her eyes are wide with excitement.

“Surprise!” she says, bouncing on her heels like a kid on Christmas morning. “You ready for some fun?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Jinx, uh… what are you—?”

But then you hear the soft snoring from the living room, and her gaze flickers behind you. Her eyes narrow with curiosity.

“What was that? Was that…?” she trails off, tilting her head.

“Shh,” you hiss, quickly stepping back from the door. “Keep your voice down. My kid is asleep.”

Jinx blinks, the words hanging in the air for a moment. Her expression shifts from playful confusion to something… more cautious. “Kid?”

You wince, realizing you didn’t exactly mean to spill that detail yet. It’s been a while since you thought about your situation as anything more than normal. You didn’t think Jinx would show up today, much less find out about your life outside of work or your occasional hangouts.

“Yeah, a kid,” you say, trying to keep it light. “I’m a single parent, Jinx. Didn’t think I’d need to mention it yet.” You let out a small laugh, but she’s staring at you, completely silent.

She steps into the doorway without waiting for an invitation, glancing around at the cozy, somewhat cluttered home. A few toys are scattered on the floor, and the smell of pancakes still lingers in the air.

“So, uh,” she begins, sounding awkward for the first time in your memory. “Is this like, uh… what, a big secret or something?”

You shake your head, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s not a secret. It’s just… complicated. And, I wasn’t really planning on telling anyone about my kid yet.”

Jinx’s eyes soften, and she rubs the back of her neck, looking around the room in an almost shy way. “Well, you’re, like, a lot cooler than I thought if you can handle that all on your own,” she mutters.

You blink at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks at you with those familiar, mischievous eyes. “You’re doing everything. The mom thing, the work thing… and you still let me come over and drag you into my chaos every now and then. That’s cool.”

Your heart flutters a little, a mix of amusement and warmth spreading through you. Jinx wasn’t always the best at expressing her feelings, but you could tell when she meant something.

“Well, someone has to,” you reply, grinning. “And I guess I’m the lucky one.”

She bites her lip, eyes darting toward the couch where your child is still snoozing, peaceful and unaware of the chaos outside.

“Can I… meet them?”

You pause. You weren’t sure how she would act in this kind of situation, but something about the way she asked makes you want to say yes. You nod, feeling your nerves settle a little.

“Okay, but you have to be quiet,” you whisper as you lead her toward the living room.

When she sees your child, her whole demeanor shifts. Her usual manic energy quiets, her eyes softening as she looks at the little one. Jinx crouches down, her fingers hovering just above their sleeping form, unsure of what to do.

“I don’t… I’ve never really been around kids,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, a little surprised at how gentle her tone is. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything.”

Jinx nods, standing back up, her eyes lingering on your kid a little longer. For once, the wildness that usually marks her movements is replaced with something more reserved.

“Your kid’s cute,” she says quietly.

You laugh softly. “Yeah, they are.”

Jinx’s eyes flicker back to you, an almost awkward pause settling in the air. “I didn’t mean to, you know… show up uninvited or anything. I just… wanted to see you. Didn’t realize you had all this going on.”

You smile, your heart swelling just a bit. “I didn’t expect you to be so… calm about it.”

“I’m not that bad, right?” Jinx pouts, then grins. “Just… got a lot of energy. But if you need help with anything… I’m pretty good at keeping busy, y’know?”

The offer hangs in the air, and for a moment, you just stand there, watching her. There’s a sincerity in her words that catches you off guard, and you realize she’s not just offering to be part of your world for the fun of it. She genuinely wants to be involved, even if it’s in her own chaotic way.

“Thanks, Jinx,” you say softly, smiling at her. “That means a lot.”

She grins back, her usual playful spark returning. “No problem. Just, uh… don’t expect me to start doing kid stuff. I’m good with fun stuff.” She winks.

The little one stirs on the couch and yawns, rubbing their eyes. Jinx freezes mid-wink, watching them. You turn your head to see your kid slowly sitting up, eyes blinking in confusion. They take in Jinx’s appearance with curious eyes before looking at you.

“Mommy?” they ask softly, still half-asleep.

You bend down and smile, your heart melting. “Yes, sweetie?”

“This is…?” They gesture to Jinx, clearly confused but eager to know more.

Jinx crouches down to their level, her usual mischievous grin back in full force. “I’m… mommy’s special friend!” she says, her tone dramatically exaggerated as she holds out a hand. “Jinx”

Your kid blinks at her, then looks back at you, as if making sure it’s all okay. You give them an encouraging smile.

“Mommy’s special friend,” you confirm gently. “Jinx is a bit… crazy, but she’s a good person.”

Jinx’s eyes widen at your words, a small blush coloring her cheeks. She looks at your little one again, her expression softening. “I promise, I’m more fun than I look,” she says with a playful wink.

Your kid tilts their head, then gives a shy smile, stretching their arms. “Okay, Jinx! Can you make pancakes like mommy?”

Jinx’s eyes sparkle at the challenge. “Oh, pancakes? I definitely can do that.”

And just like that, she’s included—welcomed into your little family’s world in her own chaotic, Jinx-y way. As the morning slips into afternoon, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, having someone like Jinx around isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened.

This was a cute request

I want food

[to-boldly-ship-mcspirk]

no worries, I very much agree with you in all your points, I just kind of seperated tos and snw in my mind. Idk if it's because I "care less" about canon, because I do, but snw is so different in so many ways that I just ignored the idea of it being canon and focused on it as its completely different thing, and I think that's why I'm able to enjoy and love it so much (and I really do, it's one of my favourites, especially because of the format of mostly self-contained episodes. Of course there are things I don't like, like spock/chapel - which I at least found fun in some aspects but generally didn't like the idea of - and especially the kirk/la'an storyline - don't get me started on that because I hated it)

but yeah, I very much see your point, because if snw is canon for the tos timeline (and apart from me deciding for myself that it isn't it officially is so I get this is kind of a me thing here) then chapel's characterization (and spock's for that matter) and many many well established facts don't make sense

all I can say is I initially regarded it as pre-tos canon because I feel like at first they also paid more attention to having it fit in, but pretty soon (with episodes like Spock Amok being E5) I just kind of seperated it in my mind, and episodes that went so clearly against canon kinda helped with it because even though I disliked some of it it also made me go "okay, this has to be a different thing" and look at them differently, which made them much more enjoyable than I would have thought at first

I also feel like with later episodes (like subspace rhapsody, which I absolutely adore) they kind of tried to diverge from canon themselves, and I wouldn't be very surprised if they'd reveal it's actually a different timeline later on (maybe just wishful thinking on my part, but I do feel like at first they just experimented with "different take on the same timeline" and shifted towards "this is a completely different thing")

anyway, now my response is also long haha, and idk if any of what I just typed made sense but those are just my thoughts. I do acknowledge that it doesn't matter much if I view snw as canon or not because officially it still is, but I just wanted to clarify how it is in my mind and why I do enjoy snw a lot despite agreeing with your points!

star trek used to be about gays in space

now they just make Spock kiss women

[bbadandboujee]

#BLONDED ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

so after a long day of drawing, it’s 2 a.m, i’m horny, why not do some astro observations idk?

this will mostly consist of synastry & solar return charts.

OBSERVATIONS:

VENUS IN THE FIRST HOUSE OVERLAY/VENUS CONJUNCT YOUR ASCENDANT SYNASTRY: ahh 🙂‍↕️, i have this with 2 of my side pieces!! chile best synastry overlay EVER. this can either go 2 ways, A. they really really find you attractive, they like your style, i find that they most likely like something about your beauty, for example the sign its in, let’s say cancer, cancer ascendants does enhance features like breasts, or big lips (from what i’ve noticed!) or even an hour glass shaped body (body TTT!!) either way, they’ll like that specific feature of you the most depending on what sign its in. B. ok so they MAY find you a bit different than how this placement usually works, they may think you present yourself in a way thats too over the top?? (girl idk men suck!) and i find this weird bc like, being yourself is all that matters so whats tea? anywho, regardless though, they’re gonna find you very intriguing and attractive, but on the flip side they might think that you’re like other people with this placement from what i’ve observed.

MARS CONJUNCT MERCURY SYNASTRY: yoo i barley see shit about this??? but girl the amount of times y’all will be sexting with this placement!! even on FaceTime it’ll be lots of flirting, i feel like the annoying part of this placement is talking over each other? i don’t find it annoying though trust i find it very stimulating..anywho, i feel like depending on which person is mars, the mars person will most DEF communicate with the mercury person first since mars does rule over action. so if you’ve met this person online or whatever mercury person, prepare for mars to slide in your dms idk.

VENUS IN 11H OVERLAY: omg so my venus is in his (i think side piece number 2?) 11h, and omg i did meet him online! definitely this is a friend crush overlay! also, friends to lovers vibes with this overlay too. i feel like its a lighthearted relationship and being friends honestly feels really genuine and sweet, i feel like with this overlay you don’t look at them with lust, you look at them a light hearted love (awe). if you definitely need a friend house person, you’ll have the bestest time getting to know the venus person fr, vise versa.

SOLAR RETURN ⬇️

this was in my drafts so i decided to bring it here chi!

MERCURY IN THE 7H: you will receive some kind of proposal, whether it’s business or relationship related. and if it is relationship related you will receive this from MULTIPLE people, if this is one of the years where you are in a relationship, expect to get proposed too. also a year where you can meet new connections online.

2ND HOUSE STELLIUM: i have this, this year, this just might be one of my best years istg? expect to make a lot of money ESPECIALLY if beneficial planets are involved. and not only that, your self worth will increase hell of a lot. also to see where your money comes from, check the ruler of the 2nd house.

A YEAR WHERE YOUR NATAL ASCENDANT IS THE SOLAR RETURN ASCENDANT: WHOEVER HAS THIS IS SO LUCKY!! this is one of your best years where you’re literally birthing a new project or starting something new, could also be a year where you’re put into the spotlight, achieving something, and fulfilling your natal promise!! definitely a good year for improvement, growth, and just like i said fulfillment.

MARS IN THE 6H: DEFINITELY a good year to get active, loose weight, or just become more healthier. a very busy year as well too. you could be surrounded by men more in your daily life/at work. definitely not a good year to start arguments with your coworkers or vise versa 😭 (edit: BUT IF THEY NEED THAT? GIRL GIVE THEM HELL IDK.)

SUN IN THE 5H: a very fun year!! omg every year i had this in i’d literally call it satire cus wtf was that?? lol, honestly a light hearted year where you’re having fun, not taking life to seriously, also a year where someone announces their pregnancy.

ALRIGHTY THATS IT! hope y’all enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 33. the premiere

word count: 15k words (sorryyyy….againnnn) warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!), softdom! sunghoon, softdom!jake, all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry…… thank you…… prev | masterlist | next

You’re still adjusting your dress in the mirror when there’s a knock at your door. Three short taps, casual but expectant. You already know who it is. You smooth your hands down the fabric one last time, inhaling deeply before opening the door.

Jake stands there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, dressed in an all-black suit that fits him almost unfairly well. His hair is styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he’s looking at you, all wide eyes and slow grin, makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck. Wow.” His voice is almost reverent, his gaze dragging over you from head to toe. “You look insane. Like, actually. This should be illegal.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe just to make things difficult for him. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Jake’s grin sharpens, his dimples showing as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “I can think of a few things.”

Your heart stutters for a second, but you keep your expression unimpressed. “Yeah? Too bad we have somewhere to be.”

“Five minutes won’t kill anyone,” he argues, slipping past you with ease, closing the door behind him. He barely gives you time to react before his hands find your waist, pulling you in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His cologne is distracting, all warmth and spice, and his lips are just close enough to be dangerous.

“You’re trouble,” you murmur, your hands finding his shoulders.

“I could say the same about you.”

And then he kisses you, slow and teasing at first, before he deepens it, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something distinctly Jake, and it’s so easy—too easy—to melt into him.

But you don’t, not fully. You pull back, breathless, pressing a finger to his chest. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His lips chase yours like he’s not done yet.

“We have to go.”

He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours for a second before finally pulling away. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Niki to yell at me for being late.”

The hotel ballroom where the premiere is being held is overwhelming the second you step inside. Warm lighting, sleek decor, champagne flutes in every direction. The kind of event where everyone is too cool to be fazed by the sheer number of celebrities in one place.

Jake keeps a hand on the small of your back as you walk in, like he’s worried you might disappear in the crowd. He greets a few people, nods at some others, but the second he spots Niki, his entire demeanor shifts.

Niki is standing near the center of the room, flanked by Yeonjun and a handful of other people you don’t immediately recognize. He’s holding a drink and talking animatedly, gesturing wildly like he’s in the middle of the most important story of his life. The second he sees you and Jake, his face lights up.

“There you are!” He waves you over, practically bouncing on his heels. “Finally. Thought you guys were gonna ditch me.”

“You think I’d miss this?” Jake grins, clapping a hand on Niki’s shoulder. “Big night, man.”

Niki gestures to the chaos around him. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane. I saw Taylor Swift like ten minutes ago and almost passed out.”

You blink. “Wait, she’s actually here?”

“Of course she is, dude. It's her movie.” Niki shrugs. “She's probably somewhere being cooler than all of us combined.”

Jake stands beside you, his hand resting lightly on your back as the party swirls around you. The room is a blur of sequins, designer suits, and industry elites, but his attention is locked on you.

Sunoo arrives first, all bright energy and perfectly styled hair, Gigi right beside him in a dress that probably costs more than your rent. Woonhak follows, looking vaguely overwhelmed but excited. “Oh my God, there he is,” Sunoo gasps dramatically. “The man of the hour.”

Jake laughs. “You mean Niki? Pretty sure he’s the man of the hour.”

“No,” Gigi corrects. “He means you.”

“Yeah,” Sunoo adds, pointing between you and Jake. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

Jake gives you a playful glance. “All good things, I hope?”

Jake, ever the charmer, is unfazed. He chats with them easily, slipping into the conversation like he’s always been part of your world. You watch as he makes them laugh, throwing in casual compliments and effortlessly winning them over.

After a few minutes, you catch sight of Jungwon and Jay arriving. “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” you tell Jake, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, squeezing your fingers briefly. “Don’t take too long.”

You weave through the crowd toward Jungwon and Jay, both looking effortlessly put together. Jungwon spots you first, his face lighting up. When you reach them, your brother pulls you into a quick hug. “We had a tie problem.” His gaze turns to Jay, who is silently laughing.

You glance toward the bar. “I was actually about to grab a drink. You guys want anything?”

Jay shakes his head. “Sunghoon already went to get ours.”

Of course he did.

You nod, excusing yourself before heading toward the bar. As you approach, you spot Sunghoon leaning against the counter, one hand resting casually on the surface while the other holds a drink. His suit fits perfectly, sharp lines and effortless confidence, the deep navy fabric complementing his complexion in a way that makes your thoughts stray into dangerous territory. The open collar of his dress shirt reveals just enough skin to make you swallow harder than you’d like, and the sleek styling of his hair only sharpens the cocky smirk he wears when he notices you approaching.

“What a coincidence,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly in your direction. “You following me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, masking the way your pulse quickens. “You wish.”

He tilts his head, letting his gaze drag over you in that slow, deliberate way that makes your skin heat. “Maybe I do.”

Your throat goes dry, but you refuse to let it show. “Shouldn’t you be taking those drinks back to your friends?”

He smirks, swirling the liquid in his glass lazily. “They can wait. Besides, looks like you could use a distraction.”

You scoff, leaning against the bar beside him, trying not to focus on how close he is. “You think you’re that distracting?”

Sunghoon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly smooth register that always makes the air between you shift. “I know I am.”

You hate that he’s right. But you hate even more how much you don’t want to walk away.

He studies you for a moment before raising a brow. “So, how’s Jake?”

The question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly. “He’s talking to Sunoo, Giselle, and Woonhak.” You pause, then glance at him knowingly. “You know, since he invited you here and all.”

His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Yeah. Generous of him, don’t you think?”

You nod, watching him carefully. “I like that you two are getting close again.”

Sunghoon hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. Then, he looks at you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course you like it. You’re the reason for it.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or did you already forget what happened on Super Bowl night?”

Your breath catches for half a second, but you school your expression, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Instead, you shift your gaze across the room, scanning the crowd—and that’s when you see Jake.

He’s leaning against a tall table, still engaged in conversation, but his eyes are locked onto you and Sunghoon. There’s something in the way he’s watching, the curve of his lips somewhere between amused and possessive. It sends a shiver down your spine—not quite jealousy, but not entirely something else, either.

The bartender slides your drink in front of you, breaking the tension. You take the glass, turning back to Sunghoon with a tight-lipped smile. “I should get back.”

His smirk lingers, as if he knows exactly why you’re leaving so quickly. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” You ignore the way your stomach tightens at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before you do something reckless.

You return to Jake, finding him standing with Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Soobin near the edge of the party. The three of them are deep in an animated discussion, and you barely get a word in before Beomgyu clutches Soobin’s shoulder like he’s delivering the most important information of the night.

“Dude, I swear to God, we just went to the bathroom and Tom Holland was in there,” Beomgyu says, eyes wide.

Soobin nods in solemn agreement. “He was washing his hands like a normal person. It was surreal.”

“Was he British?” Heeseung asks, raising an eyebrow.

Beomgyu stares at him. “Bro, of course he was British, what kind of question—”

“I mean, did he sound British in real life?” Heeseung clarifies, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t hear him talk. But he had the British stance,” Soobin supplies, as if that explains everything.

“What the hell is a British stance?” Jake finally asks, chuckling.

Beomgyu waves his hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At this point, the conversation takes a sharp turn as Heeseung squints at Soobin. “Okay, but real question—who’s the best Spider-Man? Because I already know your dumbass answer.”

Soobin gasps. “Tobey Maguire is objectively the best—”

“Oh my God, here we go,” Beomgyu groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re actually delusional if you think Andrew Garfield wasn’t the best,” Heeseung counters.

Jake laughs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closer as they keep arguing. He leans in, his voice a warm murmur in your ear, “You wanna get out of here?”

Your breath hitches for half a second, but you play it cool, tilting your head slightly. “You’re feeling bold tonight.”

He smirks. “You have that effect on me.”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu suddenly turns back to you both, looking horrified. “Wait—Jake, don’t tell me you think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man.”

Jake doesn’t even glance at him. “I think Y/N and I are leaving.”

Soobin gasps. “COWARD.”

You laugh, letting Jake steer you toward the exit, ignoring the continued chaos behind you. His hand is firm on your lower back, fingers pressing lightly as he guides you through the crowd, a silent reminder of his presence. The party hums around you—music pulsing, glasses clinking, voices overlapping in an endless sea of conversation—but it all fades into the background as you step into the crisp night air. The smoking area is nearly empty, just a few scattered guests lingering near the edge, their quiet conversations drowned out by the distant bass from inside. The air is laced with the faint scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but all you can focus on is Jake, who wastes no time in pulling you closer by the waist.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and low against your ear. His lips graze the sharp line of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your breath hitches slightly when he finally presses a kiss there, just below your ear.

“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You don’t seem fine.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted. “You just like messing with me.”

“Maybe.” His hands tighten around your waist, his thumbs pressing into your sides. “Or maybe I just like you.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Oh yeah? How much?”

Jake tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mm, a lot.” His lips find your jawline again, kissing along it slowly, savoring every inch. “Like, wanna-be-around-you-all-the-time a lot. Like, think-you’re-the-coolest-person-here a lot.”

You hum softly, enjoying the warmth of Jake’s touch, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles against your waist. But there’s something deeper lingering between you, something you can’t ignore.

“Jake,” you say quietly, tilting your head up to look at him properly. “Can I ask you something? Like, for real?”

He pulls back slightly, his gaze warm and steady. “Of course.”

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before finally speaking. “What… what exactly is this? You and me.”

Jake blinks, as if the question catches him off guard, but then a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know if I have the perfect answer for that,” he admits. “But I know that I really like getting to know you. I like how things feel when I’m with you. And I don’t wanna push you into anything—you’ve got a lot going on, I get that. But I like where we are right now.” His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, grounding, reassuring. “I like this... whatever this is.”

Your heart stumbles slightly at his words, the sincerity behind them. You nod, letting the moment settle, before shifting slightly. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jake grins. “Damn, two in a row? Should I be nervous?”

You roll your eyes but don’t take the bait. Instead, you inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you get mad about Sunghoon? About him being around?”

Jake exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna know the truth?”

“That’d be nice.”

He leans against the railing, still holding onto you like he’s unwilling to let you go. “It’s not the first time this has happened with me and Sunghoon.”

Your brows lift. “Seriously?”

Jake nods. “Yeah. We’ve had this… I don’t know what to call it. This rivalry? Competition? Whatever it is, it’s not new. But it’s never been like this before.”

“Like this how?”

His thumb brushes against your hip, gentle, thoughtful. “It’s never been with someone like you.”

Your breath catches slightly. “What does that mean?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “It means you make it different. You make it feel less like a fight and more like— I don’t know. Like a game we don’t mind playing.” He pauses, tilting his head. “And I think it’s because I respect you. I know you’re gonna do whatever you want in the end, and I trust that. And…” He grins, eyes glinting with something playful. “I like it. I like the chase. I like having to work for you.”

Your heart squeezes at his words, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re really not jealous?”

“Oh, I’m jealous,” he admits, laughing. “But I’m not bitter. Not when it’s you.”

For a second, you can’t think of anything to say. So you don’t. Instead, you reach up, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss. Jake reacts instantly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there’s barely any space left between you. His lips move against yours with an easy certainty, like he’s trying to tell you everything he just said all over again—without words, just the heat of his touch, the press of his body against yours. You feel the way he deepens the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at your waist, like he wants to make sure you don’t slip away. And you don’t want to.

You let yourself sink into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, holding him there like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. The world outside the two of you feels distant, a blur of cigarette smoke and the muffled voices. It’s just Jake, his lips warm and insistent against yours, his breath fanning across your cheek as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, as if he wants to taste every inch of you.

Then reality nudges at the back of your mind, and you remember where you are.

You break the kiss, just barely, your breath mingling with his. “Jake,” you murmur, voice slightly unsteady. “We’re still in public.”

His lips barely leave your skin as he hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So?”

You huff a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow. “So, people are watching.”

Jake exhales a soft chuckle, completely unfazed. “Good,” he murmurs, dipping his head lower, his lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, trailing down the column of your neck. His voice is a low, amused whisper against your skin. “I like when people watch.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket. There’s something reckless about the way he says it, something bold, unbothered—like he’s perfectly happy letting the whole world see that you’re his.

You’re about to retort, maybe call him insane, maybe tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but then—your gaze drifts past his shoulder.

And your stomach twists.

Across the smoking area, near the edge where the neon glow fades into shadows, Sunghoon is standing with some girl. He’s not kissing her, but he’s leaning in way too close, his posture relaxed, effortless—like this isn’t even something he has to think about. Like it’s second nature to him.

She’s smiling, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she looks up at him, hanging onto whatever he’s saying. And he’s looking at her the way he looks at anyone he’s about to pull into his orbit—sharp, teasing, eyes glinting with something just shy of a smirk. He’s angled slightly toward her, their bodies just close enough that if she took half a step forward, they’d be chest-to-chest. It’s casual, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his body language shifts when he’s interested in someone.

And then he looks up.

His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, everything sharpens. The noise around you fades, the air between you crackling with something unspoken, something tense. His expression doesn’t change—he doesn’t pull away from the girl, doesn’t step back. He just holds your gaze, steady and unreadable, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Like he’s daring you to react.

Your pulse kicks up, an unfamiliar mix of emotions rising in your chest—something heated, something possessive, something almost irrational. You don’t know if it’s anger, annoyance, or something else entirely, but you feel it curling tight in your stomach.

Jake, still oblivious, is kissing along your neck, lips pressing slow, lingering against your skin. His grip on your waist tightens, his voice low. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, trailing another kiss just below your jaw.

But you barely register his words, barely feel the way he’s touching you. Because your attention is locked on Sunghoon, on the way he’s still looking at you, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.

And it makes your blood boil.

The spark of defiance ignites in your chest before the thought even fully forms. You don’t hesitate. If Sunghoon wants to play, you can play too.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you tighten your grip on Jake’s collar and pull him back into a kiss—this time, not soft or teasing, but intense, deliberate. Jake barely has a second to react before he’s melting into you, his hands sliding down your waist, fingers gripping your hips as he presses closer. He exhales a quiet groan against your lips, caught off guard but more than willing to follow your lead.

You tilt your head, deepening it, letting your nails drag lightly against the nape of his neck. The heat between you simmers into something heavier, something heady, and when Jake's fingers dig into your sides in response, you know he's completely lost in it. Good. That’s exactly what you need.

Still, even as you lose yourself in the kiss, you keep your awareness sharp, your senses wired. You know Sunghoon is still watching. And when you finally break the kiss, breathless, you make a point of glancing back toward him.

Your stomach twists the moment you do.

The girl beside him is even closer now, pressing into his side, lips trailing along his jawline like she’s mapping it out with precision. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected. His expression is unreadable—bored, maybe. Or amused. His arm is lazily slung over the balcony railing, one hand wrapped around his drink, posture relaxed, unbothered. But his eyes?

His eyes are locked onto you.

There’s something deliberate in the way he holds your gaze, something slow and heavy, like he knows exactly what you’re trying to do—and he’s daring you to try harder. It makes your pulse spike, anger bubbling beneath your skin, because he’s playing right back, and worse—he’s good at it.

You refuse to let him win.

Turning back to Jake, you grab his wrist and pull him with you, leading him toward a more secluded corner of the smoking area, tucked behind a concrete wall where the lights don’t quite reach. Jake follows without question, his grip tightening around your hand, his breath uneven from the kiss.

“Where are we going?” he murmurs, voice low, eager.

You don’t answer. Not yet. Not until you steal one last glance over your shoulder, making sure Sunghoon sees exactly what you’re doing.

You don’t wait to see his full reaction, but you catch it anyway—the smirk pulling at Sunghoon’s lips, lazy and knowing, like he’s completely unfazed by your little game. Like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. It makes your jaw clench.

But you don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. You disappear behind the wall with Jake, letting the dim lighting and the thrum of the distant bass swallow you whole.

The second you’re out of sight, Jake tugs you back against him, hands firm on your waist. He’s still catching his breath, his eyes dark with something unreadable—half amusement, half hunger. But there’s something else there too, something smug, something playful.

“You know he’s an asshole, right?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of your dress. “And you know I’m so much better than him.” You open your mouth, but before you can say anything, he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Your stomach flips at the way he says it—not accusing, not jealous, just… taunting. Testing you. And you hate how much you like it.

Your lips curl, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Maybe I just like watching you get all competitive,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly, letting your lips ghost over his jaw. “Maybe I like making you work for it.”

Jake exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah?” His voice drops even lower, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours again, harder this time.

The kiss is intense, charged—his hands tugging you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as he backs you against the cool concrete wall. His lips part against yours, and you let him in, let him deepen it, let him take.

His mouth leaves yours only to trail lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, down to your neck. He finds that spot just beneath your ear and lingers there, lips pressing, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you inhale sharply.

“Still thinking about him?” he murmurs against your skin.

You exhale something between a laugh and a breathy sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Not even a little.”

Jake chuckles, satisfied, before dipping lower. His lips trace down your collarbone, hot and open-mouthed, like he wants to leave something behind—some kind of mark, something to remind you who had you here first. His hands explore, one gripping your waist, the other slipping up your back, pressing you flush against him.

Jake’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you further against the cold wall. His kisses turn rougher, more demanding—teeth grazing your lower lip before he tugs at it, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you.

"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dark, something teasing. His hand slides up your side, fingers curling around your ribs as his lips travel back to your neck, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Letting me push you around a little?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown, you know you’ve both lost track of who’s playing who. You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers tightening in his hair as he licks over the spot he just bit. He chuckles against your skin, satisfied, before sucking a bruise into your collarbone.

A soft moan escapes your lips, barely audible, but Jake catches it. His breath stutters for a split second before he exhales sharply, pressing his hips against yours in response. "Shit," he mutters, dragging his teeth over your pulse. "You can’t be doing that in my ear, princess. That’s not fair."

Before he can say anything else, the buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts the moment. He ignores it. You feel it again. A steady vibration, insistent. Jake just groans, mouth still on your skin.

"Jake," you whisper, a little breathless. "It’s your phone."

"Don’t care," he mutters, kissing you again.

You laugh softly, pushing at his chest. "It could be important."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw clenched, clearly annoyed. With a heavy sigh, he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. When he sees the caller ID, he groans even louder.

"For fuck’s sake," he mutters before answering. "What?"

You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but Jake rolls his eyes. "Bro, are you serious right now? I'm—" He pauses, glancing at you, then sighs again. "Fine. I’ll be there in a sec."

He hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, looking at you with the most put-out expression. "It’s Niki. He’s making a toast or whatever and wants all the guys there."

You snort. "You should go…"

"Yeah." Jake sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. His eyes roam over your slightly disheveled appearance, the faint marks blooming on your collarbone. A smirk tugs at his lips.

You roll your eyes. "I was literally about to fix myself up."

His smirk widens. "Yeah, you better."

You smack his arm, making him laugh. "Shut up," you mutter, turning toward the restroom. "I’ll meet you there."

Jake steps away first, sighing dramatically as he runs a hand through his hair. “Better hurry up, angel,” he teases over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna keep me waiting too long.”

You roll your eyes, watching as he disappears into the crowd before exhaling and smoothing down your outfit. Your body still feels warm, buzzing from everything that just happened, but you shake it off, heading toward a bathroom nearby.

The hallway is quieter here, dimly lit, the noise of the party muffled behind thick walls. You push open the door and step inside, immediately making a beeline for the mirror.

The second you see yourself, you groan, leaning against the counter with both hands. Your lips are swollen, your hair is slightly tousled, and there’s the faintest hint of red blooming on your collarbone where Jake had been particularly eager.

“My god,” you mutter, tilting your head to inspect the damage. You press your fingers over the spot, sighing. “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?”

You shake your head, standing up straighter as you start fixing yourself. Running your fingers through your hair, smoothing out your clothes, fixing your lipstick in an attempt to erase the evidence.

Alright. You’re fine. You take one last breath, steadying yourself.

Then, pushing open the stall door, you step out—

Sunghoon is leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, waiting.

His eyes meet yours immediately—dark, unreadable. There’s a flicker of something behind them, something almost amused, and then his lips quirk up at the corner.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches for a second, your heart still settling from the mess Jake left you in, but you mask it quickly. “Were you waiting for me?” you ask, tilting your head, trying to sound unimpressed.

Sunghoon just shrugs. “Maybe.” You roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you—so casual, so at ease, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Having fun tonight?” he asks, voice smooth as ever.

You lift an eyebrow. “You tell me,” you counter. “Looked like you were having a great time with that girl.”

His smirk deepens, just a fraction. “You were watching?”

You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You were standing right there. Kinda hard to miss.”

He hums, tilting his head. “So, what? You jealous?”

The accusation makes your stomach twist, but you don’t let it show. You just let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not even a little.”

Sunghoon chuckles, low and deep. “Right,” he drawls.

You hate the way he says it—like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows better. And maybe he does. Maybe he caught the way your gaze lingered too long, how you clenched your jaw when you saw his arm resting lazily on the balcony railing, completely unfazed by your attempts to get a rise out of him.

You straighten your spine. “You must be enjoying yourself, though,” you say, voice laced with something just shy of sarcasm. “Didn’t look like you were complaining when she was all over you.”

Sunghoon just hums again, taking a slow step toward you. “Wouldn’t say that,” he muses.

Another step.

Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’re moving, and Sunghoon is right there, hovering just close enough to make your pulse stutter. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t do anything more than lean in, but it’s enough. Enough to make the space feel smaller, the air heavier.

“She was cute,” he admits, voice dropping slightly. “But I don’t even remember her name.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to react. He watches you for a second longer, studying, waiting, and then his lips curve again. “What?” he murmurs. “Disappointed?”

Your eyes narrow. “I should’ve listened when people told me you were trouble.”

Sunghoon tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? And who told you that?”

You shrug, looking away. “People.”

He hums, like he’s considering it, then dips his head a little lower, just enough to make you look at him again. “Well,” he says, “they’re not wrong.” The words shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But they do. “And you know that,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You’ve always known that.”

You swallow, lips pressing together. Sunghoon’s smirk grows. “And you like it,” he says simply.

Something about the certainty in his voice makes your breath hitch. Like it’s not a question, not even up for debate. Like he knows you too well, has seen the way you react when he talks to you like this, corners you like this. You open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to deflect, but he beats you to it.

“You don’t play fair, either,” he murmurs. “That’s why you pulled Jake like that.”

Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do.” The worst part is that he’s right. And he knows it. The tension stretches between you, thick and charged, but before you can get lost in it completely, something clicks in the back of your mind—Jake.

You blink, straightening slightly. “I have to go.”

Sunghoon doesn’t move, still caging you in. “Back to him?” You nod. He exhales sharply through his nose, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Of course you do.”

You lift your chin. “Don’t start.”

Sunghoon just lets out a quiet chuckle, finally stepping back, giving you space. “Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand. You roll your eyes, stepping past him, ignoring the way your skin still feels too hot. And as you walk away, you swear you can still hear him laughing.

You make your way back to the party, heart still racing from your conversation with Sunghoon. The music pulses through the air, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the space as you navigate through the crowd.

You spot Jake and Niki at a table surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Heeseung, Beomgyu, Soobin, Woonhak, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, Giselle, and Yeonjun. Niki stands up, animatedly gesturing with a drink in hand, clearly in the middle of one of his infamous speeches.

“And let me tell you, folks,” Niki booms, “life is like a pizza! You can have all the toppings in the world, but if the base is soggy, it’s just not gonna work!” The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but smile. Niki’s ridiculousness is contagious.

As you reach the table, you lean against it, slipping in beside Jungwon. You rest your head on his shoulder, the comfort of his presence settling your racing thoughts. He glances down at you, an amused glint in his eyes.

Jungwon glances down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Y/N?” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You blink up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs, nudging you playfully. “You just stroll in here, all casual, after… whatever that was, and expect me to believe you’re only here for the pizza?”

You roll your eyes, the warmth of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon fading slightly in the comfort of your twin’s teasing. “I came for the pizza and Niki’s wisdom, obviously,” you reply, trying to sound serious.

Your brother chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. You lean into him, the familiar warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and grounded.

But then your gaze drifts away from your brother and settles on Jake, who is seated next to Heeseung, laughter bubbling up between them. He’s animated, his eyes sparkling with joy as he jokes around, completely lost in the moment with his friends. Watching him, a wave of warmth washes over you, spreading from your chest to your fingertips.

In that moment, you can’t help but think how much you genuinely like him. The realization hits you with a gentle tug at your heart. If only you’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would have been easier. Maybe you could have shared more moments like this, more laughter, and less confusion. The thought lingers in your mind, and you find yourself smiling softly as you wonder what the future might hold. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance for something more between you two.

As if sensing your gaze, Jake looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his face. It’s the kind of smile that lights up his eyes, a mix of mischief and warmth, as if he knows he wants to be close to you but doesn't want to disrupt the fun he's having with his friends. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

The energy in the room was electric, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter mixing with the music, until Niki broke through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung! Jake!” he called out, his excitement palpable. “You’ve got to see this! Whoopi Goldberg is on the dance floor right now!”

The mention of Whoopi had Beomgyu and Soobin leaning in, intrigued. “No way, are you serious?” Beomgyu asked, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “We have to go check that out.” Soobin nodded vigorously, already stepping forward.

Woonhak leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “I actually talked to her earlier. She called me ‘Mr. Kim.’” He delivered the line nonchalantly, but the playful smirk on his face suggested he loved the attention.

Laughter erupted around the group, Jungwon and Jay nearly collapsing with mirth. Even Jake, who typically maintained a cool demeanor, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Niki seized his arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go, Jake!”

Watching them go, you felt a warmth spread through you. Jake looked so relaxed, so alive, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. It was a joy to see him enjoying himself without a care in the world.

“Hey,” Jungwon called, breaking you from your thoughts. “You wanna dance?”

With that, you followed Jungwon onto the dance floor, Jay, Sunoo, and Giselle close behind. The music pulsed around you, each beat vibrating through your chest. You lost yourself in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, letting the music take over.

Then you felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, something unsettling. You turned slightly, and there he was: Sunghoon, sauntering by with another girl, laughter escaping his lips like it was the soundtrack to your annoyance. The sight hit you hard, a surge of frustration bubbling up as you contemplated “accidentally” tripping him.

But no. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night. Not with your friends around, not with the music pumping, and definitely not when Whoopi Goldberg was potentially doing the cha-cha-slide somewhere in this building. You forced a smile, turned back to your friends, and kept dancing, determined to shake off the irritation.

Then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto yours. For a fleeting moment, everything around you fell silent, the air thick with tension. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the girl beside him pulled him back into their conversation.

You turned away, your jaw clenching. The music and laughter felt distant now, as if you were watching the party unfold through a haze. Jungwon noticed the shift in your mood and leaned closer, concern etching his features. “You good?”

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But as you moved to the beat, your gaze kept drifting back to Sunghoon, the weight of his presence hanging in the air like a cloud. The night was still young, yet suddenly, it felt a lot heavier.

After dancing for what felt like forever, the weight of your heels became unbearable. You decided it was time for a break. Spotting Sunoo chatting with Giselle, you made your way over. “Hey, I’m going to grab some slippers from my room,” you announced, already starting to walk away.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. He gave you a knowing look. “Just be careful, because there’s someone watching you all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you knew exactly who he meant—Sunghoon. The unspoken tension between the two of you was palpable, and Sunoo was well aware of it.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to my room anyway,” you replied, already moving away, not bothering to hide your smile.

As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the party music faded into a distant buzz, leaving just the thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze boring into your back, a familiar presence that sent little shivers down your spine. You could practically picture him brushing off that girl who had been flirting with him just moments before, his signature smirk dismissing her advances like a pro. He had this crazy way of commanding attention, and somehow, you were caught right in the middle of it.

Stopping in front of your door, the cool metal handle felt like a nice break from the heat radiating off your skin. Just as you turned, Sunghoon rounded the corner, the flickering light catching his jawline, making him look almost otherworldly in the shadows. “You know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on your lips, “I totally knew you’d pull this. You’re pretty obvious.”

His lips curled into that signature smirk that always sent a jolt through you. He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “And you can’t seem to stay away, can you? It’s like you’re into this little game we’ve got,” he shot back, his tone playful but with a hint of something deeper.

“Oh, is that what this is? A game?” You crossed your arms, trying to hide how giddy you felt inside. The banter flowed easily, but you both knew there was a lot more going on under the surface.

“Definitely,” he leaned in a bit, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of mischief and challenge. “But don’t worry; I’m always down for a challenge. Especially with someone like you.”

Your heart raced at his proximity, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins. You could feel your cheeks heating up, giving away the cool facade you were trying to maintain. “Well, you better keep up then,” you shot back, the words tumbling out with a surprising boldness.

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his amusement clear, but then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Oh, really? Should I?” His voice dropped low, each word hanging in the air, creating a charged intimacy that felt almost electric.

In that instant, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. The weight of unspoken words hovered between you, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the night was poised on the brink of something monumental. You could see the flicker of emotions dancing in his eyes, a mixture of challenge and desire, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“You know, I’m kinda tired of this back-and-forth game we’ve been playing,” he said, stepping even closer, a serious look crossing his face.

“Oh really? And what do you want, then?” You challenged, the playful banter tinged with curiosity.

“I want you, Y/N,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. “Not just this teasing dance.”

The seriousness in his tone made your breath hitch. It felt like a confession, raw and honest, cutting through the playful tension that had defined your interactions until now. You were caught off guard, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You met his gaze, a mix of surprise and something that felt like hope swirling in your chest.

He moved even closer, hovering just inches from you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against your skin as he leaned in, almost whispering. “You talk about me being trouble, but let’s be honest—you’re worse than I am.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of thrill and frustration bubbling inside you. “What are you even talking about?” You looked up at him, and the playful glint in his eyes made your heart race.

“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head slightly. He leaned in, brushing his lips just beside your ear, making your breath hitch. “You get jealous at me flirting with other girls, but you can’t expect me to just sit here while you fuck with Jake, either. It’s a two-way street, you know?”

He pulled back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a reaction. You felt a surge of irritation mix with a strange thrill at his words, his expression teasing yet sincere. “Fine,” you huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface. But the truth was, you wanted to fight against it, to challenge him. “Maybe I don’t want to keep playing games too.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He stepped back, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing on you, and for a moment, all the teasing, all the games, melted away. “I want you to stop messing with my head and just be honest with me.”

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, and for a brief moment, the playful banter gave way to something deeper. “Alright, I can do that. I want you. No games.”

You felt your heart race at his admission, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “Okay,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “No games.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a challenge flickering in his eyes. “But even now, you’re still not making the first move, are you?”

You held his gaze, unflinching. The air was thick with tension, and the silence stretched between you, charged with anticipation. You didn’t want to be the first to break; instead, you leaned into the moment, your heart pounding as you locked your eyes onto his.

Instead of waiting for him to lean in, you took a step back, slowly opening your door and entering your room, all while keeping your eyes fixed on him. You moved in reverse, your gaze never leaving his, a playful yet inviting challenge dancing in your expression. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the space now feeling intimate and charged.

Sunghoon followed you inside, his gaze intense as he stepped through the threshold. He closed the door behind him with a firm thud, the sound echoing in the small room, sealing you both in a world of your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him as he advanced, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.

You walked backward until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed, the soft mattress providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. You felt the gentle push as you sat down, your eyes never leaving his. Sunghoon remained standing, towering over you, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of determination. “So, you think you can just tease me like this?” His voice dropped an octave, filled with a rough edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You held his gaze, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m not scared of you,” you replied, trying to sound bold, but the way he looked at you made it hard to maintain your composure.

He smirked, a confident glint in his eyes. “Good, because I’m not playing games anymore.” With that, he took a step back, deliberately creating a bit of distance. You watched, curious, as he slowly removed his blazer, revealing a fitted shirt that clung to his frame. He left a few buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to make your heart race.

The sight of him, so effortlessly confident and attractive, made your breath hitch. You leaned back on your hands, your heart pounding as you assessed him, unable to look away. The playful banter had evaporated, leaving only a charged atmosphere between you.

“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it hard to think straight.

“Maybe,” you replied, a hint of challenge in your tone, even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly back, inviting him to close the distance.

Sunghoon stepped forward again, this time his presence more dominant, almost predatory. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?” He leaned closer, making your heart race even faster. Standing before you, he towered over you, a commanding figure that filled the space with undeniable energy.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt both vulnerable and exhilarated under his touch. “Look at me,” he urged softly, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of intensity and something deeper swirling within them.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment, your heart pounding as he carefully maintained the connection. There was an undeniable tension in the air, charged with desire and anticipation.

“I want you to understand just how much I want this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your chin lightly, sending electric sparks through you. It was a simple gesture, yet it felt like an invitation into something thrilling and unknown.

“I think I can say I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart racing as you laid your feelings bare.

“Oh, really?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk that sent butterflies swirling in your stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, a powerful move that made your breath hitch.

As he knelt, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in this charged atmosphere. He leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for your sandal, fingers brushing against your ankle as he began to slip it off.

You felt a rush of heat wash over you, the intimate gesture sending your mind into a whirl. You wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but the way he looked at you left you momentarily speechless. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the fiery desire building between you.

With deliberate slowness, he moved to your second sandal, his fingers brushing your skin as he slipped it off. His gaze never faltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The world outside your room faded, and it felt like just the two of you existed in this electrifying moment.

As he slipped it off your foot, he leaned in closer, lifting your leg gently. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, and you could barely contain the gasp that escaped your lips.

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his smirk widening as he caught sight of the goosebumps that had formed along your leg. “Did that feel good?” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief.

You could only nod, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through you. The way he was looking at you, combined with his gentle touch, was driving you wild. He leaned back in, his lips brushing against your skin once more, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the length of your calf, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Each press of his mouth sent another wave of heat rolling through you, making it harder to focus on anything but the way he was worshipping you with every movement. When he reached your knee, he lingered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there, before placing a final, lingering kiss just above it.

Then, he stopped. He straightened to his full height, towering over you once more, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He looked at you like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every silent plea hidden behind your parted lips.

“Stand up,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm.

You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your body moving before your mind could catch up. As you rose to your feet, the space between you crackled with tension, the air thick with anticipation. Sunghoon stepped behind you, his presence overwhelming without even touching you. The warmth of his body was right there, just close enough to make your skin tingle, just far enough to make you ache for more.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and you felt the heat in his voice as you complied, slowly pivoting until your back was to him.

You held your breath, heart hammering in your chest as you felt his fingers brush over your shoulder, grazing the strap of your dress. He didn’t rush—no, he was taking his time, savoring every second. You could feel his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck, the sensation sending a delicious shudder through you.

His fingers trailed down the length of your spine, following the fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.

Sunghoon’s breath was warm against your ear, the tension between you thick enough to drown in. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your dress for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, voice low and dripping with amusement.

“Can I?” he murmured, his tone edged with something dark, something hungry, and you nodded.

And then, with a swift, decisive motion, he dragged the zipper down, the sound slicing through the silence. Your dress loosened instantly, slipping off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet like it had simply given up under his touch.

Sunghoon took a small step back, just enough to take you in. His gaze darkened as it roamed over you, lingering on the deep blue lingerie that now stood between him and everything he wanted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, almost to himself. “Did you wear this for me?”

Before you could answer, he was already moving, his lips pressing against your bare shoulder, slow and deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His hands traced the curves of your waist before gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he mused between kisses, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, making you shudder. “Wearing something like this, knowing I’d see it.” His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your body instinctively pressing closer. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I think you like being caught.”

His hands slid over your stomach before he turned you around in one fluid motion. The second your eyes met his, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fingers working quickly, desperate to even the playing field. But you barely made it to the middle of his torso before Sunghoon caught your wrists, halting your movements.

His gaze was sharp, his smirk downright sinful. “Did I say you could take my shirt off?” he asked, tilting his head. “Good girls ask first.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding, lips parting in surprise.

The moment stretched between you for a beat—then, before you could react, Sunghoon pushed you back onto the bed. You barely had time to process the way your body sank into the mattress before he was over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open beneath him.

His smirk was gone now. What replaced it was something darker, something dangerously close to pure need.

“Now,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Let’s see if you can be good for me after all.”

Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing into yours, his breath fanning against your lips, but still—still—he hadn’t kissed you yet. His eyes burned into yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your thigh, teasing, withholding, making you squirm beneath him.

You were done waiting. You reached up, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him down—but before your lips could meet, he let out a quiet chuckle, his mouth barely ghosting over yours.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, with knowing.

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because in the next second, his lips finally crashed against yours, swallowing the air from your lungs. The kiss was nothing short of devastating.

His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that left you dizzy, like he’d been starving for this as much as you had. He didn’t hold back—he kissed you deep, kissed you like he wanted to ruin you, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, demanding more, taking more.

You melted into him, nails digging into his back as his tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then more intense, more desperate. His teeth grazed your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, drawing a soft whimper from you. That sound only seemed to spur him on.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he was trying to fuse you together. The weight of him, the way he pressed into you with every shift of his body, had your head spinning.

Your fingers found their way to his shirt again, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to get it off, to feel his skin against yours. But just as you started to undo another one, Sunghoon suddenly grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your tracks.

His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his voice was firm as he said, “What did I just say?”

You blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”

“I told you to ask first.” His voice dropped lower, more authoritative. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.

Heat flooded through you, your breath catching at the way he looked at you—so in control, so effortlessly dominant. Still, you couldn’t help the whiny edge that crept into your voice. “But I—”

“Don’t start,” he cut you off, his tone sharp. His fingers traced down your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver through you. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. His words, his tone—it had you falling silent, something deep inside you tightening in response. Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, like he could see the exact moment you surrendered to him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, then leaned down, his lips crashing into yours again. This time, it was even more intense.

His kiss was all-consuming, leaving no space for hesitation. He devoured you, his tongue sliding against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into your waist, your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back. Still straddling you, Sunghoon shifted, moving up onto his knees. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him slowly undo them one by one. You lifted yourself slightly, propping up on your elbows, eyes locked onto him, completely transfixed. The way his fingers moved, the slow reveal of his toned chest—it was hypnotizing, addictive.

He caught you staring, smirking. You swallowed, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t look away. Then he paused, his fingers still on the last few buttons. His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable. “Ask.”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath shaky as you whispered, “Can I touch you, Hoon?”

For a second, he just stared at you, like he was drinking in the way you looked—needy, desperate, completely at his mercy. Then, finally, he gave a small nod. You wasted no time. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding against his skin as you slowly pushed his shirt open. Your touch was soft, reverent, tracing over his chest, his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.

You leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest as you worked on the last of the buttons, your lips trailing down the hard planes of his body, tasting him, feeling every flex of his muscles under your touch. The shirt slipped off his shoulders, falling to the bed, forgotten.

Your hands moved lower, gliding over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched as you hesitated there, glancing up at him, waiting, asking without words. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he reached down, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, slow, teasing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, with something deeper. His thumb pressed just slightly against your lip, feeling the way it parted under his touch. “So obedient.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your entire body buzzing under his touch. Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, still toying with your bottom lip beneath his thumb. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you forced the words out, even if your voice came out softer than you intended. “I want you.”

Something dark flashed in his gaze, his smirk widening as if he’d been waiting to hear that. He straightened up, stepping back slightly until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.

“Then be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

A fresh wave of heat surged through you at his words. You shifted, moving carefully until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking up at him, heart racing in anticipation.

Sunghoon’s smirk never faltered. He let you settle into position before speaking again. “Take them off.” Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the sheer tension in the air. You undid the buckle, the soft clinking sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The button came next, then the zipper, your fingertips grazing the warm skin of his lower abdomen as you tugged the fabric down.

You took your time, dragging his pants down inch by inch, your fingers brushing against the firm muscles of his thighs, your breath coming out uneven as more of him was revealed to you. The air between you felt heavy, thick with anticipation, as the fabric slipped lower, pooling around his ankles.

Now, he was standing over you in nothing but his boxers, the outline of him straining against the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your mouth went dry. Heat coiled low in your stomach, an intoxicating mix of arousal and the sheer intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle at your expression, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He reached down, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a slow, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement, with control.

You weren’t sure if it was his tone, the way he looked at you, or the fact that you could feel his heat, inches away from your lips, but you felt dizzy. Your breath shuddered as you leaned in, your lips hovering just over the hard outline beneath his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his again, filled with nothing but quiet submission.

Sunghoon hummed, his smirk deepening. “Uh-uh.” His fingers traced along the side of your face before sliding into your hair, gripping it lightly. “You have to ask first, baby.”

Your stomach clenched. The grip in your hair wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you who was in charge. Your lips parted, voice coming out softer than you intended. “Please, Hoon…”

His expression remained unchanged, feigning innocence. “Please what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering as you tilted your head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against his lower abdomen. His scent overwhelmed you, making you lightheaded. Your hands lifted to his hips, playing with the hem of his boxers, teasing the waistband between your fingers. “Let me take these off.”

Sunghoon inhaled slowly through his nose, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The hand in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head back further. “Say please.”

You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, control. It was a look that sent another wave of heat rushing through you, making your entire body feel hyperaware of the moment. The way he loomed over you, his chest rising and falling steadily, the grip he still had in your hair—it all made you feel small in the best possible way. Then, his smirk returned, slow and knowing, his head tilting just slightly as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing down lightly, testing you. “Go ahead, baby.”

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, and you took your time, dragging the fabric down slowly, purposefully, letting your nails graze against his hips as you went. As soon as he was bare, your breath hitched. You felt lightheaded with anticipation, the heat pooling low in your stomach tightening at the sight of him, already so hard for you. Sunghoon was big.

Your lips parted, a quiet, shaky breath escaping as you immediately leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his cock. His grip in your hair tightened, his chest rising with a sharp inhale as you trailed your lips up his length, your tongue tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side.

“Fuck.” His voice came out low, wrecked, his head tipping back just slightly before his gaze returned to you, dark and heavy-lidded.

You took your time, your tongue teasing him with deliberate, languid licks, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against your mouth. Sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you subtly, his hips barely shifting forward, making you gasp.

“Just like that, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So fucking good.”

The praise only fueled you, made you more eager, more desperate to please. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. His reaction was immediate—a sharp exhale through his nose, his jaw clenching, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb tracing your lower lip again when you pulled back slightly, your lips slick and swollen. “So fucking eager, huh?”

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, your lips slick and swollen. He shook his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you back down. You leaned in again, parting your lips and taking him in, slow and deliberate at first, before hollowing your cheeks and sucking, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he pulsed under your touch. His breathing hitched, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as his hand flexed in your hair.

“Fuck, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “You take me so well, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise only made you more eager, made you want to pull more sounds from him, made you want to push him further. Your hands gripped at his thighs as you moved, setting a steady pace, swallowing around him, letting out soft little moans that you knew would drive him insane. His hips twitched, just barely holding himself back from thrusting into your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened sharply, pulling you back with a swift, firm motion. Your lips slipped from his cock with a soft, wet pop, and you blinked up at him, dazed, your mind foggy with the haze of arousal. Confusion flickered in your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you searched his face, but he only smirked at you, his gaze dark and heavy-lidded.

Without a word, he let go of your hair and moved, shifting back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs spread lazily apart like he had all the time in the world. He propped an arm behind his head, watching you with an almost lazy amusement, like he was enjoying every second of making you wait.

Then, his voice cut through the thick silence. “Take those off for me.”

Your stomach clenched at his tone—low, commanding, expectant. You swallowed, nodding as you slowly got to your feet, standing at the edge of the bed as you reached for the straps of your bra.

Sunghoon’s gaze never left you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he watched, his dark eyes flickering with anticipation. You dragged the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down inch by inch, revealing your bare chest. His smirk widened as he caught sight of it, his eyes darkening, his fingers flexing against his thigh. You let your underwear pool at your feet, and you could feel the hunger in his expression, the way his fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to reach out and grab you.

Then, he tilted his head, patting his thigh once, his voice smooth, teasing. “Come here, pretty.”

Your breath hitched, your skin prickling with anticipation as you moved towards him, crawling onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate, almost feline, like you were savoring every second of this.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice nothing but smooth approval. “So fucking pretty for me.”

The moment you were close enough, his hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—grounding you even as the rest of your body buzzed with anticipation. You hovered over him, your palms pressed against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every inch of you to memory, like he had no intention of rushing this.

And then he saw it. A darkened mark blooming against your collarbone, the unmistakable imprint of lips and teeth that weren’t his.

Sunghoon stilled, his smirk curling at the edges as his fingers ghosted over the bruise. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I knew he was going to mark you…” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something claiming.

Before you could respond, his lips were on you, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He took his time, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot before sinking his teeth in just enough to make you shudder.

“And I knew you were gonna let him,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with amusement. His lips moved higher, grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You can’t control yourself, can you?”

A sharp smack landed on your ass before you could process his words. You gasped, the sting spreading deliciously through your skin, and your eyes shot to him in shock, only to find him already watching you, biting down a smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dark, knowing. “You like that, huh?” His fingers kneaded at the spot, soothing the burn even as his smirk grew.

Your breath hitched, the heat in your stomach curling even tighter. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

Sunghoon let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand squeezing your waist, grounding you as he pulled you closer. “I knew you were dirty like this.”

And then his lips were on you again, but this time, lower. He kissed down the valley between your breasts, slow and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, sucking another mark into your flesh. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing, gripping, before sliding up to cup your chest, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.

He took his time with you, savoring every reaction, every little gasp, every arch of your body against him. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull sounds from you with just his mouth, just his hands. You whimpered as he dragged his tongue over your sensitive skin, your hips involuntarily rolling against his stomach, seeking friction, seeking anything.

His grip on your hips tightened instantly, stilling your movements. “Behave,” he said, his voice low, commanding, a warning.

A thrill shot through you at his tone, at the weight of his control, but you weren’t ready to submit just yet. You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. “Or what?”

His smirk widened, slow, almost lazy, like he was waiting for you to say that. Like he’d been hoping you would. “Oh, sweetheart…” His fingers dug into your skin, his voice dropping into something deeper, darker, full of promise. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Before you could process, he moved. A sharp gasp left your lips as Sunghoon flipped you onto the mattress in one swift, effortless motion, pinning your body beneath him. His hands were on you immediately—strong, commanding, securing your wrists above your head with ease. His grip was firm, his body caging you in, leaving you completely at his mercy.

Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, your skin burning everywhere he touched. His gaze was dark, filled with something primal, something almost dangerous. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches before he bit down on your lower lip, sharp enough to make you whimper.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you want?” His voice was deep, teasing, dripping with control.

Your body arched instinctively, your thighs squeezing together in desperate search of relief, but you couldn’t move—not with the way he had you pinned so effortlessly beneath him. A whimper escaped you, but no words followed. Sunghoon smirked.

His grip on your wrists shifted, securing them in one hand, while his free hand trailed down your jaw, his fingers gripping your chin with just enough force to make you shiver. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing slowly over your parted lips.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Your breath hitched, your body writhing under him, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “Didn’t quite hear you, baby.” His hips lowered, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing, taunting, making you gasp. Your entire body trembled beneath him, the ache inside you growing unbearable.

A frustrated whine left your lips, your voice turning desperate, pleading. “I want you to fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before you could take another breath, his hand was between your legs, fingers gliding through your wetness, spreading you open. The teasing circles he drew over your clit made your thighs shake, your body twitching at every deliberate, calculated movement.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His fingers pressed down harder, rubbing slow, languid strokes that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

You whimpered, your back arching against his touch. “Don’t tease me, please… I need you.”

Sunghoon smirked against your skin, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear before he murmured, “I need to prep you first.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Don’t want to hurt my pretty girl.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate. He lets go of your wrists, and you hold on to his arms.

His fingers slipped inside you with ease, stretching you open, filling you in a way that had your back arching off the mattress. A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as Sunghoon worked you open, his movements slow at first—teasing, purposeful.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, watching your face closely, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking good for me.”

His fingers moved faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling the room, only fueling the fire in his darkened gaze. Your thighs trembled, your body tightening around him, the pressure in your stomach coiling impossibly tight. He could feel it—how close you were. And he wanted to push you over that edge.

“Tell me…” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his fingers pumped into you with merciless precision. “Did he treat you nice like this?”

Your mind was hazy, the pleasure consuming you whole. You couldn’t even form words, couldn’t respond—all you could do was moan, your nails digging into his forearm as his pace quickened.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Can’t answer me?” His free hand came up, gripping your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb dragged along your swollen lips, smearing the drool that had gathered there. “You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Wanting two cocks at the same time… so greedy.”

His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, shame and arousal intertwining in a way that made you squirm beneath him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for every other man,” he murmured darkly, leaning down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You hear me?”

The coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so intensely that you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, your thighs trembling, your body convulsing beneath him as you unraveled onto his fingers.

Sunghoon groaned, watching you fall apart with hooded eyes, completely mesmerized. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them up to his lips before slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them, savoring the taste of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling in the aftershocks, before he was positioning himself in front of you, his cock in hand, the tip already leaking against your entrance.

He looked at you then—really looked at you. Your eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted as you gazed up at him with a look that made his breath hitch.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, a hint of something almost tender behind the rough dominance he exuded. You nodded quickly, biting your lip, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you ached to feel him inside you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured, stroking your thigh, his restraint evident in the tension in his muscles.

Sunghoon was big, and the mere thought of him stretching you open made you whimper. You looked up at him with wide, needy eyes, an innocent expression that only fueled the hunger in his gaze. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging the tip of his cock over your clit, rolling it in slow circles, making your body twitch beneath him. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your breath hitching, your body strung so tight that you thought you might go insane if he didn’t fill you soon.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, as if he was holding himself back. You nodded again, appreciating the gentleness beneath his roughness, the way he still cared even while acting completely in control.

And then, finally, he pushed in—the thick head of his cock stretching you open, sinking into you inch by inch. Your body clenched around him, the feeling overwhelming, pleasure spreading through you like fire.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan slipping past your lips as you let your head fall completely against the bed, your hands gripping onto his strong biceps, needing something to ground you.

Sunghoon groaned lowly, watching the way your body took him, the way you squeezed around him so perfectly. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You feel so fucking tight.”

His grip on your thigh was possessive, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. The slow, deliberate pace was maddening, the tease unbearable, but he seemed to revel in it—watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your lips parted in breathless moans, the way your fingers clawed at his biceps, desperate for more.

Your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily, lost in the intoxicating heat of each other’s touch. The room felt electric, the air thick with tension, every sound amplified—the slick slide of him moving inside you, the breathy whimpers escaping your lips, the deep, guttural moans he let out every time your walls clenched around him.

His hold tightened, fingers bruising as he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading you wider for him, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never quite kissing you, just breathing you in, his warm breath fanning over your flushed skin.

“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” His voice was a dark whisper against your lips. You could only nod, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Say it.” His hips rolled forward, a deep thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your nails scratching down his toned back.

“I—” You gasped, barely able to form words. “I wanted this so bad.”

Sunghoon groaned, his self-control slipping as he pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, burying himself deeper inside you. The stretch burned in the best way possible, a delicious ache that made your head spin. He was so big, filling you to the brim, making you feel completely owned, completely his.

His pace was still torturously slow, but each thrust was deep, deliberate, making you feel every inch of him. He watched your face intently, taking in every reaction, every twitch of your brows, every gasp and moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “So fucking desperate.” You whimpered, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrist, not to pull him away but to hold onto him, to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb dragged over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh before slipping into your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed without thinking, lips wrapping around his thumb, tongue swirling over the pad of it as you gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his restraint snapping.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his lips as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless. His pace quickened, hips slamming into yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you.

The shift in tempo had you gasping, whimpering against his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him in deeper. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic, wet sounds of him fucking into you, mixed with your broken moans and his deep, raspy groans.

“You take me so fucking well,” he praised, his lips dragging down your jaw, to the curve of your neck, where he sucked and nipped, leaving his mark. “My good girl. So tight. So perfect.”

Your body arched into him, every nerve ending ignited, your head spinning with pleasure. You could feel it building again—that familiar, fiery coil in your stomach, tightening with every thrust, with every filthy word he whispered into your ear.

“Sunghoon—” You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—” He groaned, sensing exactly how close you were.

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside you, his pace relentless now, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you trembling. “You’re gonna cum when I say you can, baby.”

You whined, body betraying you, your walls fluttering around him, your muscles locking up as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Hold it.” His voice was dark, commanding, but his own resolve was slipping. He was close too, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, harder.

You couldn’t. You physically couldn’t. Your body was on fire, your mind blank, pleasure consuming you whole. “Sunghoon, please,” you sobbed, shaking beneath him.

His hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to send you spiraling, his voice a breathy groan as he finally gave you permission.

“Cum for me.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, so intense it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision blurring as your body convulsed beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, his movements growing sloppy, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release hitting him like a freight train. His body tensed, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, filling you with warmth, his breath ragged against your ear.

The room was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing, both of you completely spent, bodies tangled together in the sheets. Sunghoon pressed lazy kisses to your jaw, your collarbone, your lips, his touch softer now, almost gentle.

Your body felt weightless, as if you were floating in the haze of pleasure that still clung to you, leaving you warm and blissfully dazed. Your limbs were heavy, spent, but his touch—gentle, soothing—kept you tethered to reality.

“You okay?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but still laced with concern. His fingers found your face, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead. His eyes, still dark with the remnants of desire, softened when they met yours.

You nodded weakly, your body still buzzing, your mind slow to catch up. He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tender, as if savoring the taste of you, before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Your body draped over his chest, his warmth seeping into you, anchoring you in a way that made you want to stay like this forever.

His fingers traced absentminded patterns along the bare skin of your back—slow, lazy circles, up and down your spine, making you shiver despite the heat radiating from his body. His other hand, rough yet careful, brushed over your arm, then your waist, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there, tangled up with him in the sheets.

A deep sigh left his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, the rhythm soothing, hypnotic. You pressed your cheek against his heart, listening to the soft thump, feeling the way it still raced slightly, evidence of how much he had wanted you, how much you had affected him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was full, heavy with unspoken words, but not in a way that begged for answers. It was enough just to be here, wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, feeling the same warmth.

Then, after a moment, his hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, rhythmic motions. A small hum of pleasure escaped you at the comforting sensation, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Feels good?” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded again, too content to form words.

He shifted slightly, adjusting so that you were more securely nestled against him, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I like this,” he admitted, voice quieter now, more raw. “Having you like this. Feels… different.”

You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the defined lines of his chest. “Different how?”

His eyes flickered down to you, something unreadable swirling in them. His thumb stroked the curve of your hip, his lips parting slightly before he hesitated. Then, with a quiet sigh, he muttered, “I don’t know. Just… good.”

Your heart clenched at the way he said it—so unguarded, so unlike the teasing, cocky Sunghoon you were used to. This was different. This was intimacy in its purest form, something unspoken lingering between the two of you, too fragile to name, but too strong to ignore. You pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to hover over him, your fingers still lazily tracing along his chest. “You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I get it.”

His gaze searched yours for a moment before he exhaled, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He reached up, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before guiding your lips back down to his. This kiss was different from before—no urgency, no hunger, just something soft, something deeper. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to leave a piece of himself behind in every press of his lips against yours.

You melted into him, sighing into the kiss, your hands coming up to frame his face, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you even closer. He kissed you slowly, taking his time, as if you had all the time in the world.

When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered against yours, his breath warm as he murmured, “Next time…” You swallowed, waiting, your body already shivering at the thought of what he might say next. “…I’m not letting you off so easy.” His voice was teasing, but the promise behind it sent a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a lazy smile playing on your lips before leaning in to press a soft kiss against the sharp line of his jaw. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, the tease in your voice making Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

Without a word, he pulled you in closer, rolling onto his side until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive kind of ease. His hand smoothed over your stomach, fingertips tracing light patterns against your skin, grounding himself in the warmth of you.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, and for a second, he just held you there—basking in the way you fit so perfectly against him. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, that he liked having you like this, wrapped up in him, safe in his arms.

But he’d never admit that.

prev | masterlist | next

author's note: SOOOOO.... LMAOOOOO READER IS THIS YOU RN?????

my best friend read this chapter and absolutely lost her mind so i’m taking that as a good sign LMAO also sorry for the length, i know it’s longer than usual but hopefully it’s worth it 👀

this is only the second smut scene i’ve ever written and i can’t believe it actually turned out good??? like hello since when do i have this talent i’m actually shook. anyway, i’m gonna take a little longer than usual to post the next update, so savor this one while you can 😌 BYEEEEE

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama @enhastars @immelissaaa @pjselee @hexnoia @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @love-4-keum @doublebunv @minfolio @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @doveblackboat @psychotic-girl-666 @kukkurookkoo @allie-mcginn @jkslvsnella @wintereals @why4anne @jakesfurry

[jburrgf]

Friends III, The Love Trope Series

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED, PART III

◦pairing: bengals¡joe! x best friend¡reader!

◦summary: friends to lovers, childhood friendship. slow burn, soulmates.

◦description: it’s been five years since you saw joe for the last time. your life went another way, at the same time joe’s life went too. but everything changes when you find yourself needing somebody, and your best friend it’s the only one that you know it can help you.

◦ playlist: Friends, Ed Sheeran From Eden, Hoozier 21, Gracie Abramns You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift I Couldn't Be More In Love, The 1975

part I/ part Il

FIRST TRIMESTER OF 2019. – LSU & BENGALS.

Y/N

The sound of the door unlocking pulled me from my thoughts as I sat at the kitchen counter, finishing a cup of coffee. Ryan stepped in, his hair slightly disheveled, his scrubs wrinkled from the long hours he’d just endured. He looked tired—exhausted, actually—but his smile still found its way to his face when he saw me.

“Hey, babe,” he said, dropping his bag near the door and walking over to me. He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on my forehead before sighing heavily. “What a day.”

“You look beat,” I said softly, standing up to grab the cup of tea I’d made for him earlier. I handed it to him, and he gave me a grateful smile.

“Yeah, it was a long one. Surgery went well, though. The patient’s stable.” He sank onto one of the bar stools, taking a sip of the tea. “What about you? What’s on your agenda for today? Didn’t see you at the hospital.”

I hesitated for a moment, brushing an invisible crumb off the counter. “I’m actually meeting Lauren for lunch,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained neutral. “Oh yeah? Where are you two headed?”

“Just the café near her office,” I replied, leaning against the counter. “It’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I figured we could spend some time together.”

“That’s nice,” he said, his tone light. “You’ve been working a lot lately. You deserve a break.”

I smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt as I looked at him. He was always so supportive, so steady, even when I knew he was running on fumes.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, finishing the tea and setting the cup down. He stood up and stretched, his muscles stiff from hours in the operating room. “I think I’m going to crash for a bit. Don’t let me sleep too long, though, or I’ll be up all night.”

“Deal,” I said with a small laugh.

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, and headed toward the bedroom. “Have fun with Lauren, babe,” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks, love.” I replied, watching him disappear down the hallway.

As the door to the bedroom closed, I found myself staring at the empty tea cup on the counter, an inexplicable weight settling in my chest. It wasn’t that anything was wrong—Ryan was kind, caring, and everything I’d ever thought I wanted.

It’s been weeks since I started feeling like this again. I don’t know what triggered me, but some weeks ago, I realized that I was thinking too much for things that I used to do normally.

So why did I feel like something was missing?

[...]

The café was bustling with the usual lunch rush, the hum of conversations and clinking plates filling the air. I sat across from Lauren, sipping on my iced tea as she animatedly recounted a story about her latest work trip. I was listening—really, I was—but my focus wavered every now and then.

My life felt… stable. Almost too stable, like the kind of perfection you don’t question because you’re afraid it’ll crumble the moment you do. Ryan and I had been living together for over a year now, and things were good. He was sweet, dependable, and everything I thought I needed.

“And then he knocked over the entire display!” Lauren exclaimed, her laughter pulling me out of my thoughts.

I smiled, shaking my head. “You always end up with the most chaotic coworkers.”

“Tell me about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “But enough about me. How’s work? How’s Ryan?”

I shrugged, playing with the straw in my drink. “Work’s good. Busy, but good. Ryan’s… Ryan.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow. “That sounded less enthusiastic than usual.”

“No, it’s not like that,” I said quickly, waving her off. “We’re fine. Really. Working in the same hospital where your boyfriend is an intern? Crazy, but we are working on it. It’s good to know someone from outside over there. But I don’t know, Ren… everything feels too norma to be right. I’m so scared."

She gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further. Instead, her attention shifted to the TV mounted on the café wall, behind me. “Oh, hey, isn’t that—”

My eyes followed hers, and my breath caught in my throat.

There was.

Joe.

My Joe.

Dressed in LSU’s purple and gold, he stood in front of a row of microphones, his helmet tucked under one arm as he answered questions from reporters, still in the middle of the field, after another game. His hair was slightly longer than I remembered, and his face had matured in the years since I’d last seen him. But it was undeniably him.

My heart twisted in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

He was… there. After five years, that was the first time I was seeing his face. Still with the same deep blue eyes, the playful smile, the same face… It almost felt like home.

“Holy crap,” Lauren said, her voice low. “He’s… different.”

My breath got caught on the top of my throat and I couldn't say anything. I missed seeing his face so much that my whole body felt numb. I wanted to cry so bad, that my eyes felt heavier cause of the tears almost running down my face.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. The headline at the bottom read, “Joe Burrow leads LSU to a decisive victory, securing their spot in the NCAA final.”

“He’s at LSU now,” I murmured, more to myself than to Lauren.

“Have you talked to him since… you know? I just remember you saying to me that things fell apart.” she asked carefully.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Not since college. Not since Ohio State.”

Lauren didn’t say anything, but the look on her face said enough. I turned my attention back to my drink, trying to ignore the ache in my chest that seeing him had stirred up.

I missed him so much. I spent almost half of my life putting in my head that I didn’t miss him at all, but everybody knew it was a lie.

Even myself.

JOE BURROW.

The rain battered against the windows of my apartment, the sound almost drowning out the action movie playing on my TV. I leaned back on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, the remnants of a takeout dinner sitting beside me.

It had been a long week, filled with practice, media obligations, and the weight of knowing that the championship game was just weeks away. But for now, I had the rare luxury of a quiet night to myself.

My phone was in my hand. I’ve been chatting with my mom

the whole day, missing the feeling of being by myself at my own house in Ohio. Some messages from my friends,

I was just reaching for the remote to turn up the volume when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, I glanced at the clock. It was almost 10 PM.

I got up, padding to the door in bare feet. When I opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

“Y/N?”

She stood there, drenched from head to toe, her hair plastered to her face and her clothes clinging to her frame. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and she was shivering from the cold.

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” I said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.

She walked past me, her arms wrapped around herself as she stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom right by the living room and handed it to her.

“Here,” I said. “You’re soaked.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the towel and rubbing it over her hair.

I watched her for a moment, my mind racing with questions. What was she doing here? Why now, after all these years?

“Y/N,” I said carefully, “what’s going on?”

She hesitated, clutching the towel like it was the only thing holding her together. “It’s Ryan,” she said finally, her voice breaking. “He… he cheated on me.”

My chest tightened, anger and disbelief flooding through me. “What?”

“I found out a few hours ago,” she continued, her voice trembling. “He’s been seeing someone else for months. I confronted him about it, and he didn’t even deny it. He just—” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, shaking. ‘ I had to see you. I saw you on Tv and found that you were over here, so I just took the first flight. You were right, Joe. He wasn’t good for me.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She nodded, taking a shaky breath as she lowered her hands. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she admitted, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“You came to the right place,” I said firmly. “I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”

She let out a small, broken laugh. “You always say that.”

“And I always mean it,” I said, my voice soft but steady.

For a moment, we just stood there, the sound of the rain filling the silence between us. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.

I froze for half a second before wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly.

“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured, resting my chin on the top of her head.

She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her shoulders relax slightly, her grip on me tightening as if she was afraid I might let go.

I didn’t.

Y/N

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. My eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, I forgot where I was. The couch I’d slept on was soft and warm, and I snuggled deeper into the blanket, catching the faint scent of Joe lingering on the fabric.

Then it all came rushing back. I was at Joe’s apartment.

I stretched lazily, my body still heavy with sleep, and glanced down at what I was wearing—a slightly oversized gray T-shirt with LSU printed across the front. It was Joe’s. He had handed it to me last night, insisting I’d be more comfortable in it than my own clothes. I smiled faintly, letting my fingers brush over the soft cotton.

Something about wearing his shirt felt intimate, grounding even. Like I belonged here. Like this was how things were always meant to be.

I pushed the thought away quickly, sitting up and wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. But the idea lingered, unshakable. This felt so natural—waking up in his space, surrounded by pieces of him. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

If this were our routine.

If every night ended with us laughing together on the couch, and every morning began with me wearing his shirts, making breakfast, and waiting for him to wake up.

If I were his.

The thought made my chest ache, a bittersweet longing settling deep inside me. Shaking my head, I tried to push it aside. It was dangerous to let my mind wander there—dangerous and entirely pointless. Joe and I had spent years apart, and so much had changed.

But a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought about it too.

I stood quietly, padding over to the kitchen on bare feet. His apartment was small but cozy, filled with little reminders of who he was. A football sat prominently on a shelf, surrounded by LSU memorabilia. A framed photo of him with his parents and brothers hung near the door, and his signature cleats were neatly tucked under the coffee table.

It all felt so Joe, and it made my heart squeeze painfully.

I busied myself in the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread from his fridge. The smell of coffee filled the air as I brewed a fresh pot, and I started scrambling the eggs. The motions were easy, comforting. For a few minutes, I let myself sink into the simplicity of it, pretending this was just another day in a life we could’ve had together.

The sound of footsteps behind me broke me out of my thoughts.

“Something smells good,” a familiar, groggy voice mumbled.

I turned to see Joe standing in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck as he yawned. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter with a small grin. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

Without warning, he pulled me into a quick hug, his arms warm and solid around me. His chin brushed against the top of my head, and I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

“Thanks for making breakfast,” he said, pulling back and giving me a sleepy smile.

I nodded, my cheeks warm as I turned back to the stove. “It’s no big deal. Figured you’d need something good to eat after last night.”

He chuckled, grabbing two mugs and filling them with coffee. “You spoil me, Y/N.”

I tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the thoughts I’d had earlier. The way this all felt so much like a life I wanted but could never have.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked, my voice light as I plated the eggs and toast.

Joe took a sip of his coffee, his expression thoughtful. “Coach gave us the day off,” he said. “A little break before the chaos kicks in again.”

“That’s good,” I said, glancing at him as I slid his plate across the counter. “You deserve it.”

He smiled, taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “I was thinking… Maybe we could spend the day together. Just us. Get out for a bit, catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve had time like this.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly busied myself with my own plate to avoid meeting his gaze. “That sounds nice,” I said quietly.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before he started eating.

As we sat together in the quiet kitchen, sharing a simple breakfast and easy conversation, I couldn’t help but feel like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

JOE BURROW.

The diner was exactly how I remembered it—small, cozy, and buzzing with the sound of clinking dishes and quiet conversation. The familiar scent of coffee and fried food hung in the air, and the bell above the door jingled as Y/N and I stepped inside.

We slid into a booth near the window, and I handed her a menu from the stand. She scanned it quickly, her fingers tracing the laminated surface absentmindedly.

“You come here often?” she asked, her eyes flicking to mine.

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “It’s nothing fancy, but the food’s good. And the people are nice.”

As if on cue, Patty, the diner’s longtime waitress, approached our table with her usual warm smile. “Joe! Long time no see,” she said, setting two glasses of water down in front of us. Her gaze shifted to Y/N, and her smile widened. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”

“This is Y/N,” I said, glancing at her. “An old friend from Ohio.”

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Patty said, her voice warm, the southern accent hitting hard. “What can I get you two?”

After we placed our orders, I leaned back in the booth, studying Y/N as she gazed out the window. The sunlight caught her features in a way that made her look almost ethereal, and for a moment, I found it hard to look away.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “Tell me everything. What have you been up to these past few years?”

She hesitated, her expression turning thoughtful. “Where do I even start?”

“From the beginning,” I said, my voice gentle. “I want to know it all.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of her glass. “Well… after college, I started working as a physical therapist. It wasn’t easy at first, but I loved it. I started working in the same hospital as Ryan right after graduation.”

Her words stung more than I cared to admit, but I kept my expression neutral, nodding as she continued.

“For a while, everything felt perfect. But, I guess, things don’t always stay that way.” Her voice grew softer, and she looked down at her hands.

I wanted to reach across the table and take her hand, to offer some kind of comfort, but I stopped myself. “And now?” I asked instead.

“Now… I’m figuring things out,” she said, meeting my gaze. “One day at a time.”

I nodded, my chest tightening. “You’ve always been good at that,” I said softly.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about you?”

I hesitated for a moment before answering. “I dated Emily for a while in college,” I admitted. “But it didn’t work out. We were… more fucking around than anything else. She thought she was pregnant right before I transferred to LSU. It was crazy. She wasn’t, by the way. ”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “ I remember the gossip about her and a football player, I didn't think it was you. At least you realized that.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward. “And now, here we are.”

The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable. It felt like there were a million things left unsaid, but neither of us knew how to voice them.

“You should come to the game,” I said finally, my voice steady. “The final. I’d love for you to be there.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” I said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

She nodded, her smile growing. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

For the first time in years, it felt like we were finding our way back to each other, like it was supposed to be this whole time.

Y/N

The room smelled faintly of powder and lavender as I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers deftly applying blush to Robin’s cheeks. She sat patiently on the cushioned chair, her eyes twinkling with warmth as she glanced at me every so often. I couldn’t help but smile at her reflection. The soft hum of country music played from Robin’s phone, resting on the vanity. My reflection in the mirror made me laugh—an apron tied over my casual outfit, my hair in bobs, and a few smudges of eyeshadow on my fingers.

Robin smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looked at herself in the mirror. "You’ve got a real talent for this, sweetheart," she said, her voice soft and filled with affection.

"Thank you, Robin," I replied, dabbing lightly on her cheekbone. "I don’t get to do this often, so it’s a nice change of pace."

She chuckled, tilting her head slightly so I could finish blending the blush. "I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. Joe’s been... different lately."

I paused for a moment, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Different? What do you mean?"

Robin’s smile grew, her gaze warm and knowing. "He’s happy. Truly happy. I haven’t seen him like this in months, not since the two of you stopped talking."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, a mix of guilt and warmth spreading through me. I smiled softly, focusing back on her makeup to avoid the lump forming in my throat. "I missed him too," I admitted quietly.

Robin’s hand reached up to pat mine, resting gently on my wrist. "You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.” Robin opened her eyes, meeting mine in the mirror. “I could tell. And let me tell you, sweetheart, he missed you too. I’ve never seen him this happy in years—not even after his biggest wins.”

Her words sent a warm ache through my chest, and I bit my lip to keep the emotion at bay. “Joe and I… we’ve been through a lot,” I said quietly, setting the brush down. “But I’m glad we found our way back. It feels… right.”

“It is right,” Robin said firmly, watching me with an intensity that caught me off guard.

I finished her makeup shortly after, standing to gather my brushes and palettes. As I zipped up my case and turned to leave, Robin’s hand gently caught mine, pulling me back.

"Y/N," she said, her tone soft but firm. “Stay with him.”

I turned to her, surprised by the intensity in her expression.

I blinked, unsure of what was coming. “Of course,” I said softly.

Her hand tightened around mine, her eyes locking onto mine. “Stay with him. Be there for him. You and Joe—you’ve always been meant for each other. Even when you were kids, I could see it. Your parents saw it too.”

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words to respond.

Robin smiled gently, her other hand patting mine. “You’ve always been his anchor, Y/N. And he’s always been yours. Don’t let anything take that away from you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Her words hung heavy in the air, laced with a kind of certainty that shook me to my core.

"I—" I started, then stopped, unsure of what to say. Finally, I gave her a small, shaky smile. "Thank you, Robin. That means... a lot."

She smiled warmly, patting my hand once more before letting go. "I just needed to say it," she said.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I left the room. Her words echoed in my mind as I made my way back to my room to get ready, my heart heavy with emotions I wasn’t quite ready to face.

JOE BURROW.

The locker room was buzzing with energy, the kind that made the air crackle before a big game. I pulled my jersey over my head, adjusting the fit as I glanced around at my teammates. Justin was joking with Chase about his pre-game ritual, and Clyde was busy tying his cleats, muttering something about a lucky pair of socks.

I leaned back against the bench, checking my phone for the time. But instead of closing the screen, my eyes caught the notification at the top—a message from Y/N.

Y/N: Good luck tonight, Joey. I’ll be in the stands, cheering for you like always. You’ve got this.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it, and the warmth that filled my chest was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the message—it was the fact that it came from her.

“Alright, what’s with the grin, man?” Justin’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him smirking at me, his arms crossed.

“Yeah, you’ve got that lovesick puppy look again,” Chase added, chuckling. “What, did Y/N text you or something?”

Clyde raised an eyebrow, joining in. “Bet it’s her. You always get that look when it’s about her.”

I shook my head, trying to play it off, but the heat rising to my cheeks betrayed me. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, sliding my phone back into my bag.I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the locker. "You’re all imagining things."

“Oh, we know exactly what we’re talking about,” Justin teased, nudging Chase. “You’ve been hung up on her forever, dude. It 's obvious. I Don't even know the girl, but you talk about her like we know. I know you, dawg.”

"Are we, though?" Chase added, walking over and clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You’ve been different since she came back into your life. Happier."

Chase nodded. "And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’ve been turning down every girl that’s thrown herself at you lately. We’re not blind, Joe. You’re saving yourself for her."

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. I didn’t know how to respond, because deep down, I knew they were right.

"I’m just... happy she’s here," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

Justin grinned, patting my shoulder. "That’s all we’re saying, man. You’re different with her around, and it’s a good thing."

“Yeah,” Clyde chimed in, grinning. “The way you turn down every girl who comes your way? Like, come on, Burrow. We’re not blind.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t deny the truth in their words. They didn’t need to know that Y/N had always been different—that she wasn’t just some girl I liked, but the one person who made everything else feel… right.

“Alright, leave him alone,” Clyde said with a laugh, slapping me on the back. “He’s got a game to focus on.”

I nodded, grateful for the out. But as I laced up my cleats and joined my teammates in the huddle, Y/N’s message lingered in the back of my mind, fueling me in a way nothing else could.

I didn’t say anything, just nodded as they walked away. My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down to see another message from Y/N.

Y/N: See you after the game, okay?

Because no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained the same: she was still the person who mattered most to me.

Y/N

The energy inside the Mercedes-Benz Superdome was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It felt alive—every cheer, every chant reverberating through the walls and into my chest. I stood on the sideline with Robin and the rest of Joe’s family, surrounded by a sea of purple and gold on one side, orange and white on the other. LSU versus Clemson. The 2020 College Football Playoff National Championship.

Robin was gripping her program so tightly that it was starting to wrinkle, and I couldn’t blame her. My nerves mirrored hers, every muscle in my body tense as I watched the game unfold. Joe was out there on the field, his figure distinct even in the chaos of the game. He moved with a calm confidence that I knew all too well, every play he called executed with precision.

"Did you see that pass?" Robin asked, nudging me with her elbow after Joe threw a perfect spiral to Ja'Marr Chase, resulting in yet another touchdown for LSU.

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. "He’s... unbelievable," I finally managed, my chest swelling with pride.

But Joe—Joe was unstoppable. Watching him was like witnessing a maestro conduct a symphony, every throw precise, every play executed with absolute confidence. He’d already thrown for multiple touchdowns, including a jaw-dropping 52-yard pass to Ja'Marr Chase that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

By halftime, LSU was leading 28-17, and the air around us was electric. Robin leaned toward me as the players disappeared into the tunnel. “He’s locked in,” she said with a knowing smile.

I returned her smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “He’s got this.”

The second half was when LSU truly took control. Every time Joe stepped onto the field, it felt like magic. His connection with his receivers was flawless, and the defense held Clemson at bay. The tension that had gripped me earlier started to ease, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride.

By the fourth quarter, LSU was up 42-25, and the reality of what was happening began to sink in. I found myself holding my breath as the clock ticked down. The final moments seemed to stretch on forever, the roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second.

When the clock finally hit zero, the stadium erupted in chaos. Purple and gold confetti rained down from above, and the sound of the LSU fight song filled the air. Robin threw her arms around me, her laughter mixing with tears as she hugged me tightly.

"He did it!" she exclaimed, her voice almost drowned out by the noise.

I laughed, my own eyes misting over as I hugged her back. “He really did.”

My eyes scanned the field, searching for Joe. He stood in the center, his hands on his hips as he looked around, taking it all in. The confetti swirled around him, and for a moment, he looked almost frozen in time, like something out of a painting.

And that was the moment that I realized that I never stopped loving Joe Burrow.

JOE BURROW.

The confetti was falling, the cheers were deafening, and I stood in the middle of it all, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

We’d won. LSU was the national champion.

We’d worked so hard for this moment, sacrificed so much, and now it was real.

I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. Around me, my teammates were celebrating, their voices blending into a cacophony of joy and triumph. Ja'Marr slapped me on the back, shouting something I couldn’t quite hear over the noise, but I nodded and grinned, my own excitement finally breaking through.

“Let’s go!” Ja'Marr shouted, slapping me on the back, pulling me out of my daze.

We made our way to the stage that had been set up in the middle of the field, the trophy gleaming under the bright stadium lights. I stood at the center, my hands gripping the trophy as I lifted it high above my head. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath my feet.

As I lowered the trophy, my eyes instinctively scanned the sideline, and there she was.

Y/N.

She was clapping and cheering, her smile wide and radiant. Even from this distance, I could see the pride in her eyes, the same pride that had always been there, even when we were kids.

Without thinking, I handed the trophy to Ja'Marr and jogged toward her, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the game.

“Joe!” she called as I reached her, her voice cutting through the noise like a beacon.

I didn’t stop to think. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle as she laughed. Her laughter was warm and bright, a sound that made everything else fade into the background.

“You did it,” she whispered, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck as I set her back on the ground. Her voice was soft, but the emotion behind it was palpable. “I’m so proud of you, Joey. So, so proud.”

Her words hit me harder than anything else that night. I rested my forehead against hers, my hands still on her waist. “Thank you,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for being here. For always being here.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing against my jaw. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For a moment, it was just us. The noise of the stadium, the chaos of the celebration—it all faded away. It was just me and Y/N, standing together in the middle of a championship.

DRAFT NIGHT, 2020.

Y/N

Joe’s childhood bedroom was cozy, almost nostalgic, with its Star Wars-themed decor still intact. The soft glow from the television screen illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the familiar posters of Jedi knights and starships on the walls. It felt surreal to be here, lying beside Joe, knowing that tomorrow his life would change forever.

I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as we watched some random movie he’d picked. Neither of us was really paying attention to it; the sound was more of a background hum to our shared silence. His arm was draped lazily over my shoulders, holding me close. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make my heart ache in the best way.

Turning my head slightly, I looked up at him. His face was calm, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles as he stared at the screen. I knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn’t truly focused. “Hey,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the quiet. “How are you feeling? About tomorrow, I mean.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze lowering to meet mine. “I’m good,” he replied after a beat, his voice steady but tinged with a trace of nervous energy. “Excited, mostly. I'm a little anxious, I guess. It still doesn’t feel real, you know?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “It’s real, Joe. And you’ve worked so hard for this. I always knew you’d be the first pick. You were born for this.”

His eyes softened at my words, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile that made my chest tighten. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “For saying that. For... always believing in me.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off as casual, though my cheeks warmed under his gaze. “It’s easy to believe in someone like you, Joe.”

The conversation fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between us. I felt his breathing slow and deepen as the minutes passed, and when I tilted my head to look at him again, I realized he’d fallen asleep.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He looked so peaceful, so at ease, even with the weight of tomorrow hanging over him. Gently, I reached for the remote and turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds.

“Goodnight, Joe,” I whispered, snuggling closer to him. His arm tightened around me unconsciously, and I closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull me to sleep.

JOE BURROW.

The next day felt like a whirlwind. Hours blurred together as we prepared for the moment that had been years in the making. My parents’ living room was full of buzzing energy, with my family and a few close friends gathered around. The NFL Draft was finally here, and I was sitting on the same worn leather couch I’d grown up on, surrounded by people who had supported me every step of the way.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was perched on the armrest beside me. She was calm, her presence grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain. Every time my nerves threatened to creep in, I’d catch her eye, and she’d smile, a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

The draft began, and the room grew tense with anticipation. The first pick was announced, and hearing my name—"With the first pick in the 2020 NFL Draft, the Cincinnati Bengals select Joe Burrow, quarterback, LSU"—felt like an out-of-body experience.

I shot to my feet, the room erupting into cheers and applause around me. My mom was the first to hug me, her arms wrapping tightly around me as tears filled her eyes. My dad followed, clapping me on the back and grinning proudly.

As the celebrations continued, I noticed Y/N standing off to the side, clapping and smiling so brightly it could’ve lit up the entire room. I crossed the space between us, pulling her into a hug that was equal parts relief and gratitude.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride. “Joe, I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d be number one.”

I pulled back just enough to look at her, my hands still resting on her waist. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Thank you. For always being there, for... everything.”

Her smile softened, her hand brushing against my arm. “You don’t have to thank me, Joe. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

Her words settled over me, grounding me in a way nothing else could. As I moved toward the computer for the online press conference, I couldn’t help but glance back at her, standing there with that same unwavering smile. She wasn’t just my best friend—she was my constant, my anchor, the person I trusted above all else.

When the conference ended, I didn’t go back to the crowd of family and friends. I went straight to Y/N. She stood as I approached, meeting me halfway, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other.

“Thank you,” I said again, my voice quieter this time, meant just for her.

She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against my jaw. “You’re going to do amazing things, Joe. I hope you know that.”

I smiled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “Only because I’ve got you in my corner.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. “Always,” she repeated, her voice soft but certain.

At that moment, with everyone else celebrating in the background, I knew that no matter where this new chapter took me, as long as Y/N was by my side, I’d be okay.

BENGALS, 2023 – WRIST INJURY.

Y/N

I was there when the injury happened.

Not physically, of course—I wasn’t at the stadium. But when Robin called me, her voice trembling with an urgency that sent chills down my spine, it felt as if I was standing right there on the field, watching it unfold in slow motion. My heart felt every second of it.

“He got injured at the game. Come to our house as quickly as possible.” The words echoed in my mind as I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

The phone call from Robin had come in the middle of my shift at the clinic. I had just finished helping a patient with their rehab exercises when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Seeing her name on the screen sent a chill down my spine. She rarely called, and never during the day.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the counter for support, my chest tightening at the thought of what Joe must have been going through. Robin went on to explain that it wasn’t just a sprain or something minor. His wrist was fractured, the damage severe enough to require surgery.

I didn’t think twice. I grabbed my bag, clocked out without explanation, and headed straight for my car. The drive to Joe’s house felt like an eternity, every red light and slow turn taunting me. My thoughts spiraled as I imagined him sitting there, his dreams for the season crushed. Joe never let injuries get to him—he always pushed through—but something about Robin’s tone told me this was different.

When I arrived, the house was unsettlingly quiet. Robin greeted me at the door, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She gave me a small, tight hug, whispering, “He’s in the living room. He hasn’t said much.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to form a response. Walking into the living room felt like stepping into a space that wasn’t meant for me—a room filled with tension, unspoken words, and too much pain. Joe sat on the couch, slouched forward, his injured wrist heavily bandaged. His head was bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor as if it held all the answers he was searching for

I hesitated at the doorway, taking in the scene. Robin, his dad, and a few others from his team stood nearby, their expressions somber. It felt as though the room itself was mourning with him. I swallowed hard, fighting the tears that pricked at the corners of my eyes. He didn’t need my pity. He needed me.

Slowly, I walked over and sat down beside him. The couch dipped under my weight, and for a moment, neither of us said a word.

“Joey...” My voice came out as a whisper, thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders trembled, and then, without warning, he broke. His head dropped into his uninjured hand, his entire body shaking as quiet sobs escaped him. I didn’t think—I just acted. I reached out, placed a hand on his back, and gently guided his head to rest on my lap.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, running my fingers through his hair in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to say anything.”

He didn’t resist, letting his head fall into my lap like we’d done countless times before, though this time was different. His shoulders trembled with silent sobs, and I felt his pain as if it were my own.

“They said it’s bad,” he finally croaked, his voice muffled against my leg. “The surgery... it’s tomorrow. They don’t know if…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, and my heart broke for him.

“You will,” I said firmly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You’re Joe Burrow. If anyone can come back stronger from this, it’s you. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He looked up at me then, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why do you always believe in me so much?”

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Because you’ve never given me a reason not to.”

JOE BURROW.

The hum of the hospital lights was a constant background noise as I lay on the gurney, staring up at the stark white ceiling. My wrist was throbbing under the layers of bandages, a dull reminder of everything that had happened. The thought of the surgery—of what came next—loomed over me like a shadow.

This wasn’t just a game. This wasn’t just a season. This was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d built my life around. And now it all felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

The nurses moved around me, their voices low as they prepared me for surgery. But the only person I cared about—the only person I wanted near me—was Y/N. She hadn’t said much since we arrived, but her presence was enough.

But then I looked to my right, and there she was. Y/N stood just a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching over me like she always did. Her presence was steadying, grounding, even in the chaos of the hospital.

“Yes, I’m his Physical Therapist.” She said for the nurse, filing some paperworks that they asked her to do it.

When the nurse left the room, Y/N moved closer, her sneakers squeaking softly against the tile floor. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice breaking through my haze of anxiety. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my nerves were shot. “I’m fine,” I lied, though the crack in my voice betrayed me.

She tilted her head, giving me that look—the one that told me she didn’t buy a word of it. “Joe, it’s okay to be scared. This is a big deal.”

I sighed, letting my guard down just a little. “I guess I’m... anxious. I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. “You don’t have to know right now. Just focus on one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Her words sank in, and for the first time all day, I felt a glimmer of peace. “I chose this hospital because of you, you know,” I admitted, my voice low.

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Joe...”

“You’re the only person I trust with this,” I said, my eyes locking onto hers. “You’ve always been the one who kept me steady, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.”

Her expression softened, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll always take care of you, Joe. You know that, right?”

Before I could respond, the nurse returned, signaling it was time. Y/N walked beside me as they wheeled me to the operating room, her hand never leaving mine until the last possible moment.

“I’m going to be with you the whole time, ok?” She told me, as they walked me down to the surgery room.

I layed on the bed, seeing Y/N on the top of my head, backwards. She put her hands on my face, tracing my figure. She was the last thing that I remember before vanishing.

[...]

When I woke up, the world felt hazy, my thoughts swimming in and out of focus. The first thing I noticed was the absence of pain. My wrist was heavy, wrapped in layers of bandages, but the sharp ache was gone.

As my vision cleared, I saw her. Y/N was curled up in the recliner by my bed, her head resting against the armrest, her arms wrapped around herself. Her hair was slightly messy, and there were faint shadows under her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She looked exhausted, but even asleep, she was beautiful.

“Y/N,” I croaked, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw me awake, her face lit up. “Joe! You’re awake.” She quickly got up and came to my side, her hand instinctively reaching for mine. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

“Better,” I said, managing a small smile.

Her lips curved into a small smile, but I could see the worry lingering in her eyes. “I’ve been here the whole time, Joe.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I’m okay.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened settling between us.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the silence between us filled with unspoken words. Finally, I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I decided to say what I’d been holding back for years.

I needed to do it. I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Y/N,” I began, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

“I love you,” I said simply, the words tumbling out before I could overthink them. She looked at me like I was saying I love you, you are my best friend “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at me. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face. “Joe... I love you too. I always have. You are my best friend.”

“No, Y/N, not like that. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” I continued, the words pouring out of me. “And I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared. Scared of losing you. But I can’t keep it in anymore.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and I braced myself for the worst. Then, she smiled—a soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“I love you since you showed up at my house wanting to play with your new neighbor. I love you since the time that you made me work with you to prom, or since the days you started cooking my after-game meals. God, I’ve been in love with you for ages. Since I can remember.”

Relief flooded through me, and I reached for her hand, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You are my first love, and you’ll always be, Joey. Every person that came to me was making me ready for you.”

“I don’t know how my life was supposed to be without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she whispered, her voice full of certainty.

She got close to me, her lips touching mine in the most perfect kiss ever. Her mouth, all the memories, all the awake nights, all the jealousy and all the fights, it just faded away. I held her through her neck, making her get closer to me every second that was going by.

“We kissed each other at prom.” I told her, giving her another quick kiss. “I spent years of my life thinking it was just a dream, but one of my friends kinda told me it was true, last year. And I just kept it a secret waiting for the perfect moment to tell you.

‘You’re such a douchebag.” She laughed, “And that’s why I love you.”

“I’m never going to leave you anymore. Y/n, you are the best part of my life. It was always you.”

At that moment, I knew that no matter what the future held, as long as she was by my side, I’d be okay.

I finally had my girl in my arms.

[drferox]

I hope it’s okay to contribute a piece of fiction inspired by this concept & art.

The Successes

I couldn’t fail again, but I didn’t know what else to do.

I was worthless and I was scared. Scared of him, and scared that now I had the faintest glimmer of hope that it would be snuffed out again.

That desperate hope, when you only have one thing to cling to, one thing that you can’t bear to lose, means that success is your only option.

I’d tried to leave my husband once before, but when I told him that only made things worse. He was so angry he was like a different person. If I left, I knew he’d find me. There’s not many places to go in this town, and I had no money saved any more to move away.

My phone buzzed as he called, no doubt demanding to know why I wasn’t home from work yet. I hadn’t even tried to think up a lie about where I was this time. Nor had I bothered to take anything with me, I just needed to get away from that house. Away from him.

But he knows where all my family live, and he’d hurt them for sure if he thought they were hiding me. I don’t think my mum could handle that, and my husband had connections in the police force that would make life difficult for everyone. So I’d promised to stay.

That was my only value, to serve as a shield between my husband and my family.

Which was why I’d kept my phone on as I was driving, I was quite sure that he’d find a way to track it and I didn’t want it to look like I was hiding with family. Instead, the phone would show me driving all the way out here to the abandoned canning factory.

The factory had been out of commission for almost fifteen years, so the temporary fences that had been left behind were rusty and bent, and urban explorers had already found ways into the building. It had been stripped long ago of any useful machinery, and probably a lot of the copper wires, leaving not much more than a shell of bricks, cracked glass windows, and graffiti.

I remember when I was a little girl and the factory was still running, all my friends at school had a family member who worked for the canning factory, or grew fruit for it. There was even a factory outlet that sold slightly dented cans or bulk quantities direct to the public, and it had become a kind of tourist destination for day trippers from Melbourne. So when the canning factory closed down, apparently unable to compete with imported products, the whole town was left in the lurch. A lot of jobs just vanished, and the town hasn’t been the same since.

Teenagers with no employment prospects, or their parents suddenly finding themselves with no work, had vandalised the place over the years. Most of the broken glass had been swept up by previous squatters and homeless people, but even they had moved on from the place. It was too far away from the other resources they needed to survive.

At least, I hoped there was nobody else here.

The old building loomed like a mausoleum in the night, drenched in shadows with only the occasional reflection of light glinting off broken windows.

I took my phone with me for light as I slipped through the bent fences onto the abandoned grounds. Weeds and dandelions had colonised the cracked concrete surrounding the building, still radiating heat from the day. Crickets chirped loudly in the stringy grasses, only falling silent in a radius around me as I passed them. I hoped there weren’t any snakes about.

The roller doors were long rusted shut, but the staff entrance door had been busted off its hinges and rested against the wall. The neglected wood probably would have splintered to a few strong kicks anyway.

The gutted interior of the building was filled with shadows that folded away from the light of my phone, shapes shifting into overlying angular patterns. The sound of the crickets was muffled here, replaced by the dull echo of my tired footsteps.

My phone rang again, and I ignored it.

Sudden movement to my left caused me to spin, the phone light illuminating the guilty eyes of an orange fox, a dead bird hanging in its jaw. It froze in place, caught in the middle of its crime, and hesitated for a moment. It must have decided I was more scared of it than it was of me, as it eventually trotted deeper into the factory.

But if I wanted success then I knew I had to climb.

Though the machines were long gone, metal stairs led up to walkways two and three storeys above me. They looked distinctly unsafe, but they were my best option. To do nothing, to stay where I was, invited a failure that I couldn’t risk.

There was a sturdy handrail on one side as I climbed. Stars glittered through broken skylights but did nothing to illuminate the shadows within the gutted building. The metal creaked underfoot, resenting what was probably the first human footsteps upon them in quite some time.

My old Granny used to ponder what stories a building might tell if it could, and I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for this one as I climbed. The factory had been the backbone of our town for decades, we’d come to depend upon it and think of it fondly. It had been a landmark and marker of success, the site always bustling with activity, but now it was just an empty husk. It was the grave of the industry it once housed.

But I needed to be higher.

My Granny always said, if you’re hoping the heavens will hear you, it doesn’t hurt to get as close as you can.

I tentatively stepped onto the third storey walkway, shifting my weight slowly as I assessed how sturdy it was. It groaned under the new weight, the sound echoing through the empty building.

The air was so still up here. My phone barely penetrated the shadows, leaving me feeling like I’d climbed up into a different world. But even up here, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my husband could find me, and he would be so, so angry when he did.

As I shuffled along the walkway looking for another way to get higher, I wondered what my options really were. Every week the news would run a story of yet another woman, a mother, fiancé or ex-wife, that had been murdered or maimed by her partner. If society failed so many, what chance did I have of success? I was nobody, with nothing.

Suddenly my phone rang again, and I stumbled in surprise. I staggered forward and caught myself on the railing, but dropped my phone. I watched it fall, colliding with railings on its way towards the factory floor below.

As the echoes of the collision faded, I took a moment in the darkness to realise how easily that could have been me. I wasn’t game to climb any higher.

Under the half collapsed roof I was shrouded in darkness. A little moonlight reached other sections of the factory, and I could catch glimpses of stars through the cracks above, but my spot on the railing was pitch black. And it would have to do.

I don’t think I ever truly believed in a God, certainly not an all knowing and all merciful one. But I believed in people.

I fumbled for the box of matches in my pocket. I couldn’t see what I was doing, but felt my way until I could light a match.

The tiny flame burned brightly, almost blinding after being so used to the light. I spoke with a shaky voice as the heat crept down towards my fingers.

“I am the granddaughter of Granny Mae MacRobertson,” I spoke to the flame, as loud as I dared. “Please, if you can hear me Granny, I truly need your help now.”

It was a strange plead in the dark, and I held back a sob as the flame burned out half way down the match. There was no answer, save the occasional creak of neglected metal.

I fumbled for another match, and somewhere below me I thought I heard my phone buzz again.

I took a deep breath, and lit the second match.

“Please,” I spoke to the flame, my voice slowly fading as I held back tears. “Please Granny. Please, anyone that can hear me. Help me.”

I continued to beg the flame, the darkness and whatever might be listening between them as the match burned low, only dropping it when it singed my fingers.

I was too tired to curse. I wiped my tears on my sleeve before seeking a third match to try again. I made a mental note to leave myself enough matches to find my way back down.

The third match spluttered to light, and a hand reached out from the darkness to hold my wrist steady. Another hand followed with a fat, white candle, lit it on my match, and then the first hand released me.

I didn’t initially register what I’d done.

“What is it you’ve come seeking?” said the being in front of me.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts as my eyes adjusted to the candlelight. This wasn’t a voice I knew.

A feminine figure stood on the walkway, holding the candle before me, grasped in both her hands. She wore a long dress of some sort with puffy pale sleeves, and had dark hair cascading messily about her shoulders.

“You’re not my Granny,” I said, disorientated.

“No, young one,” the figure spoke in a soft voice. “But we’ve met. We have met many souls in their many afterlives.”

“We?” I asked, and the figure nodded behind me.

I turned, as fast as I dared on the high walkway. The meagre light revealed a second figure, very similar to the first, standing behind me.

“We are born of the same ritual,” the second figure said by way of cryptic explanation. “Sisters, in that way.”

She floated around me, over a space that should have been a drop to the floor below, to stand beside the first figure.

“What would you ask of us, child?” they spoke in unison.

“I, uh… what are you?” I stammered weakly. As my eyes were adjusting to the candlelight, I could slowly make out more details. I could see the glimmer of their eyes, but couldn’t read their expressions.

“We are the Successes,” said the second figure.

“Don’t spare a thought for those that came before us,” suggested the first.

I told a deep breath, gathering any courage I could find.

“Well, I do need a success.”

The Successes stood side by side, tilting their heads in curiosity, mirroring each other.

“And how have you failed?” they asked in unison.

In the lone candlelight the features of the Successes seemed to shift and flow. Though there was no breeze up here, their hair seemed to float softly around their heads, blending together.

“In every way,” I confessed. “I fail every day. I’ve failed to leave my husband, to escape. I have no money of my own, nowhere to go that’s safe from him.”

As my eyes adjusted to the meagre light, I noticed more details about the Successes in front of me. The one holding the candle, her free hand wasn’t actually connected to her wrist, but was dangling by a chain threaded with occasional beads of bone. Nevertheless she could still move it to smooth down her skirt or brush away a wisp of her long dark hair that had drifted too close to the flame.

The other Success had something similar happen to two of her fingers. They were severed, but reattached with short lengths of beaded chain. Like the first, she still seemed to have complete control over the digits, though the chain made them longer than they should have been.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough,” I continued. “Not for him, not for myself. I never know what the right thing is anymore, but I think that’s because everything has been wrong for so long.”

I hesitated and placed my hand on my abdomen. On the ground below, further below than I remember it being, my phone buzzed again.

The Success with empty hands peered forward at me, tilting her head in curiosity at an unnatural angle.

Finally able to see in the low light, I realised what was so uncanny about her face.

It was upside down. Completely the wrong way up.

I stared, realising that in the chaos of flowing hair, on what I had assumed was the top of her neck, there was the stump of a severed neck. I could even make out the edge of the windpipe.

I looked down quickly.

The Success reached out slowly, cupping my chin in her disjointed hand.

“And what else?” she asked softly.

This felt like if ever there was a moment to be truthful, this was it, begging for help from the supernatural.

“I…” I spoke slowly, forcing out the words that I never wanted to say, “I failed my first child.”

The Success drew back to stand beside her sister.

“Explain,” she hissed, and I swear the candle dimmed. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and a queasy churning in my stomach.

“He told me I wouldn’t be a good mother,” I explained weakly, “That I was too disorganised, forgetful and not loving enough. I wouldn’t be safe enough, wouldn’t be good enough, to raise a child properly and they’d end up messed up.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady instead of sobbing.

“We argued. I thought he’d be happy, but he was so angry. We ended up, uh, well he pushed me into the table, and I fell down…” my voice trailed off with the memory. So much of it was a blur, so filled with grief and regret.

“A few days later, I wasn’t pregnant anymore. He apologized, but I’m afraid it’ll happen again.” I rubbed my hand across my abdomen, as though it might comfort my secret contained within.

“My period is late, and I was positive on the stick test two days ago,” I said, looking up at the Successes. They stood with their heads close together, as though conferring silently on what I was saying.

“I failed my first child,” I repeated, rallying to find the strength to continue “I don’t want to fail this one.”

The Successes drifted forward, leaving the candle hovering in the air. Their long, dark hair flowed behind them like a cloud and I got glimpses of more of their bodies. Not just their upside down heads, but sections of exposed limbs were also bloodied, gaps reconnected by chain with beads of bone. Most of their bodies were covered in the long flowing dresses that they wore, and I wondered if they were also disarticulated in that way underneath their clothing.

“I would have had a child once,” the second Success whispered before her voice morphed into a hiss, “until men chose me to become this.” There was a palpable rage in her voice.

“They thought we wouldn’t remember the price extracted from us, they thought our lives were cheap, but we succeeded in extracting our own repatriations.” I caught a glimpse of her teeth in the candlelight, and I’m sure they were sharper in that moment than human teeth should be.

“What do you need for success, child?” this first Success asked, her hands drifting through the space between us, as though examining something that wasn’t really there.

“Remembering that one doesn’t always know what success is, until one has achieved it,” said the second, stroking the air in a similar way, severed fingers drifting ever closer to my skin.

“I just need to succeed in escaping my husband,” I said, looking from one Success to the other. “We just need to get away, so he can’t find us.”

“And where will you go?” asked the first Success, stroking my cheek. Her touch was so delicate that it was barely there at all.

“I don’t know,” I confessed, meeting her gaze. Her upside down expression was so hard to read, but if I had to guess I think it was curiosity.

“And how will you afford to raise a child?” asked the second Success, and I swivelled to face her. She had bent down to peer at my abdomen, also stroking it gently, as though she could see through me to what grew within.

“I’ll find a way, get a job somewhere,” I said, with no specific plan. I could make a plan once we were safe.

“Hmm,” the Successes said. They stepped back, or I assumed they did, I couldn’t see any feet below their long dress, and now I wasn’t sure what anatomy they had. Then they began to circle me slowly, ignoring the railing of the walkway. Their eyes were fixed on my face, or possibly looking through me to stare at each other, as their long hair drifted behind them like fog, surrounding me in their own vortex.

“How will you pay?” they asked in unison at long last.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, having not really thought about what the cost of a bargain might be. I hadn’t expected to get this far. “What do you want?”

There was a pause, and the whole world was silent for a breath, maybe two.

“What may we have?” said the first Success, stepping into view as they both continued to circle around me. The candlelight behind her lit up her silhouette for just a step, and I caught a glimpse of just how broken she really was.

“For this was done to us, by men,” she said before continuing to wander in their circle around me. The second Success stepped between the candle and I.

“And so we have never truly died. We wander the endlessly branching afterlives that compose the human concept of death, but there is no realm which will allow us to stay.” With the lone candle behind her, I thought I caught a glimpse of chains, interwoven by hair, anchoring her upside down head to her shoulders.

She stepped out of the light, continuing to circle, and her sister stepped back in.

“We do not hunger, do not age, yet we yearn for that peace of death.” She reached forward with one hand into their circular path around me, her arm disconnecting at the wrist and elbow, revealing the beaded chain that held her limbs together. Her other arm trailed behind her, floating along, as if dragged by the chain at shoulder.

They were pacing faster now, hair and limbs caught up in the bay visible spiral.

“You understand,” said the second, coming back into view, and in much the same state as the first, “that one must live in order to die. And as we are not truly either, we can only be neither.”

She stopped beside me, and her sister did the same.

“We cannot die without having lived,” said the first Success calmly, as though it was the most normal statement in the world.

“So,” said the second, coming to a halt on my other side. “We want your life.”

“No!” I yelled, looking back towards the stairs, trying to figure out an escape route. “I don’t want to die! I’m pregnant!”

“We didn’t say your death, silly child,” the first Success scolded me, reaching forward to tap my nose with a barely attached finger.

“We want your life,” explained the second with a chuckle. I turned to face the speaker. “Your every day, your every choice, will belong to us.”

“And,” said the first, leaning in to whisper into my ear, “You will succeed.”

I paused, considering my options, because there weren’t many. If I gave up and went home right now, I’d have a lot of explaining to do, and no doubt that my husband would be so angry.

“Will my baby be okay?” I asked, because really, that was the thing that mattered most. That was what counted as success.

“That is our intent,” said the second Success, peering down at my abdomen again.

“You will succeed, and they will thrive.”

“If they do not, then know that is not our will,” said the first, in an oddly comforting way.

I looked from one Success to the other, then down to my own belly. It might not have been a good option, but I didn’t really have any good options left. Besides, I’d already made so many bad decisions, with my track record it was probably a good thing to hand the decision making over to someone else. Particularly if it was supernatural entities that were intending for me to Succeed.

“Alright,” I said, as clearly as I dared. “I agree.”

“Very well,” they said in unison. They both extended an arm towards the candle, which floated over to them. They both grasped it gently before each grabbing one of my hands and placing the candle firmly within it.

“Now go somewhere with people and light, to eat. You’re hungry, child, it’s been a long day,” said the first Success.

“Indeed, you don’t just eat for yourself now,” said the second Success, patting my belly in an overly familiar way.

Gentle but insistent hands on my shoulders turned me back towards the stairs I had climbed to get here.

“Then go stay with family for a couple of days,” said the first Success.

“And do not retrieve your phone,” added the second Success.

“Oh, okay,” I stammered. “But then what….”

“Then make good choices,” said the first Success, with a wide smile.

“Remember, it’s not just for you now,” said the second, before blowing out the candle.

Pure darkness descended, accompanied by silence. I waited for a moment, but it sounded like I was alone.

I fumbled for another match to relight the candle, but there was no sign of the Successes.

I looked at the candle they had left me. It looked old, and possibly handmade, with little diverts and fingerprints in the wax.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but they were right; I was hungry.

Carefully I made my way back to the ground by candlelight, returned to my car and drove off to the local McDonalds. It was one of the few places still open this late at night, and I could afford to eat something with the loose change I scrounged up in the car.

Once I had a burger in me, I decided to go by my mother’s house. I didn’t want to go home yet, and I wanted to assure myself that she was okay. In the end, I decided to sleep on the couch there that night.

I didn’t leave the house that day, told my mother I was feeling a bit sick, and that wasn’t entirely a lie. I wasn’t ready to face my husband, and was expecting him to turn up looking for me here at any moment.

It was mid morning when there was finally a knock at the door. But instead of my husband, it was another police officer. He said he had serious news and asked to come inside.

After asking where I had been, he told me that my husband was in a very serious car accident last night, somewhere in the backroads near the abandoned canning factory. If I was up to it, they requested I formally identify the body, but warned it was fairly gruesome.

I was in shock, appropriate for a grieving widow, but agreed. When they lifted the sheet to reveal his head, it was unmistakably him, but his expression was far from peaceful. From the way the sheet lay across his body, it looked like parts of him had been severed: at the wrist, the other arm, and the pelvis. The layout of the body looked familiar.

An officer, someone who had worked with my husband, said it looked like he’d been thrown from the car and dragged himself out. One of the worse accidents the coroner had seen, and they weren’t sure if there was malicious intent, but they had footage of me at the McDonalds while at the time it happened. He emphasised the need for me to stay safe, and I confessed that I thought I was pregnant.

The families of coppers get fairly well taken care of, as it turns out. And his colleagues were particularly courteous as the was a rumour that there was some sort of gang involvement in his death, but never proven. I received bereavement leave, help with the funeral, his superannuation paid out, and it turned out there was a life insurance policy.

Everything was looking up. I felt safe, I would be financially secure after the baby was born, and as his tragic widow my husband’s colleagues were looking out for me.

But there was one more stroke of luck, one unlikely coincidence that came to light at the prenatal ultrasound. We’d discovered at the first one that I was most likely carrying twins, and this was confirmed at the second one.

Twin girls. Sisters, who would actually get to live.

The 1st Headless Hauntings: The Successes

The ritual was very particular so it's honestly incredibly impressive that it worked twice, but no one ever really talks about that fact because then people start to ask how many times it failed.

It didn't matter much anyway. Once the young ladies (a disgraced maid and a lost traveler, no one "worth missing" in their former lives) properly settled into their Debirth, they both had a lot more...agency...than anyone expected.

Very particular that ritual. Very rough translation that's missing important information like, "will the victim remember what we've done?" and, "does listening to us mean that they'll obey or does it just mean they'll hear what we're saying?"

LOT of assumptions made there.

The ritual stopped long ago, and many who were involved met mysterious tragic ends, but the Successes remain as translators, seers, and psychopomps to those who either need someone with the mortaliminal knowledge to lift the veil for them, or someone with the common sense to shoo them away before they become a danger to themselves or others.

These days they find their way of not-life fulfilling, and sometimes downright adventurous. But at the core of all their wandering between realms, leading people in and out of the endlessly branching afterlives that make up the concept of death, they're really looking for one which will let them put their work aside and stay for good.

[kaisentine]

this tiktok video made me unwell.

“itoshi, did you see my—“ “. . . oh.”

that was probably the first and last time you will ever see itoshi sae almost shirtless—alive, at least. he’s quick to react, dropping the hem of his shirt and ultimately covering his back again. God his back muscles . . . his back muscles were . . . “ever learn how to fucking knock?”

you weren’t really anything to him. maybe a friend of a friend but not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his shirt, especially not in a freaking house party one of his teammates probably forced him into coming.

“shit—fuck, sorry!” you shout over the blasting music but all you can really focus on is the blaring sound of impending death. wasting no more than a millisecond longer, you slam the door shut like how it was in the beginning and start booking it downstairs and back to where your friends were. guess you wouldn’t be getting your power bank anytime soon—if ever.

you aren’t anything to him. not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his sure—certainly not fully underneath his shirt.

aaaaaaaand, he’s shirtless. obviously, you covered your eyes the moment he even started talking and the only reason you knew his shirt was off was because of the soft thud that hit the ground when he dropped his shirt on the floor. “why are you taking off your shirt!?” you screech, facing away from this monster. when he doesn’t respond, you just fill the silence with your own complaints.

“are you not shameless?” “i don’t think strangers should be doing this!” “am i gonna go through the cracks of this floor and straight into lava?” “is this legal?” “should i be concerned?” “i’m really concerned.” “can you just put your shirt back on?” “this is gonna ruin my reputation!” “you better not tell anyone!”

“all i hear is a lot of bullshit—do you ever shut the fuck up?” he isn’t amused after your 63rd ramble about why he shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. “you haven’t turned around once.” he says as he rolls his eyes in annoyance—what the fuck is he talking about—why the fuck is he doing this? it’s going to make you dizzy!

“why should i?!” you angrily sulk in your position. “because you didn’t see it.”

didn’t see what? him shirtless, of course!

there’s a scarily eery presence standing behind you and you don’t want to turn around—nor should you anyway. “can you just look?” he’s spinning you around with your eyes still covered, mind you. “we don’t know each other!” you protest but it’s no use when his hands grip your wrist. “thought i’d give you the chance to see it fully before you die.”

“you two know each other?” oliver aiku questions.

“. . . no.”

wait . . . you forgot your power bank.

sticky note. whats with me and this concept . . . i’ll dig my own grave, thanks . . .

[bkdk-bylerthings]

Finn basically spoiling season 5 without skipping a beat is really funny

Ik other ppl have pointed this out, I’m just giving my two cents on it

Translation: “Mike’s a lot more brave than me, I don’t think I’D (so speaking about only Mike) be out there, you know, in a different dimension (Mike has never been to the upside down hello?!), trying to save MY FRIEND (my friend?! hello?! Ok so only one friend then huh…wonder who) and uh, you know uh…be in gun fights and stuff like that..”(ok so Mike was never in a gun fight either…this kinda all leads to season 5 plot stuff…)

Also this outfit is giving ‘ready to go into the upside down with my gun to go save my bf’

We’ll see tho 🫢

[yara0546]

Nct dream reaction accidentally confessing to their crush

୨୧ Pairing : nct dream x reader

୨୧ Genre : fluff, romantic, comedy, lighthearted, embarrassment

୨୧ Word Count : 750 words

୨୧ Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Masterlist

Mark

Mark never meant to say it he really didn’t. He was just rambling about how cool you looked while concentrating, and suddenly…

"I like you... wait, what?"

He freezes, eyes wide as his brain catches up to his mouth. You blink at him, lips slightly parted, and now he’s panicking.

"Uh... I mean, I like... like talking to you! Yeah! Haha… talking is great, right? We talk a lot… or maybe not enough, but um... "

He’s full-on sweating now, face turning redder by the second. You tilt your head, amusement flickering in your eyes.

"Mark, did you just confess?"

Mark lets out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… yeah. Accidentally. But I guess I meant it…?"

Renjun

Renjun was mid lecture, scolding you playfully for being reckless.

"Seriously, you should be more careful. What if you got hurt? I’d be worried because... because I like you, you know?"

A beat of silence. His own words echo in his head. Your eyes widen. His own jaw drops.

"Wait... no, I didn’t mean... okay, I meant it, but not like that! I mean, I do like you, but... ugh, forget I said anything!"

He buries his face in his hands, groaning in frustration. You, meanwhile, can’t help but grin at his flustered state.

"Renjun… you like me?"

He peeks at you through his fingers before muttering, "If I say no, will you pretend this never happened?"

Jeno

Jeno was helping you carry something heavy when you thanked him with a bright smile. And before he could stop himself—

"It’s nothing. I like you, so…"

He trails off. Realization hits him like a truck. His hands tighten around the object he’s holding. His brain? Empty. His soul? Leaving his body.

You’re staring at him, waiting. He just… doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink.

"Jeno?"

Still nothing. You wave a hand in front of his face, and only then does he finally react.

"I... I meant… I like helping! Yeah, helping is great! Ha…ha…"

Jeno.exe has officially crashed.

Haechan

Haechan was teasing you, as always, when the words just slipped out.

"Why are you so cute when you're mad? Ugh, I like you too much."

The second he hears himself, his eyes widen slightly. But unlike the others, he recovers instantly.

"Wait... did I say that out loud? Oops. Well, guess the secret’s out!"

You’re still processing, but Haechan grins and leans in.

"Sooo… what do you think? You like me back or should I start my heartbreak arc?"

Jaemin

Jaemin was handing you a snack when he casually dropped, "Here, I got this for you. I like you, after all."

You freeze. He doesn’t.

"Wait... what?"

Jaemin blinks at you, confused. "What? Oh. Ohhh."

It finally clicks. He pauses for a second, then shrugs with a smile.

"Well… yeah. I like you. Were you really that surprised?"

Chenle

You and Chenle were playfully bickering when he got a little too passionate.

"Ugh, you drive me crazy! I like you so much, it’s annoying!"

The room goes silent. You stare. He stares. His best friend, who overheard, gasps dramatically in the background.

"Wait... " He blinks rapidly. "Did I just... "

You nod slowly. "You did."

Instead of panicking, Chenle just bursts into laughter.

"Welp. No going back now. So, what do you say? You wanna date this genius or what?"

Jisung

Jisung was mumbling under his breath, not realizing you could hear him.

"Ah… they’re so pretty. I like them so much…"

You turn to him. "What did you just say?"

Jisung chokes. His eyes go wide. His ears turn bright red.

"N-Nothing! You misheard! I was talking about... uh... my… my shoes! Yeah, I like my shoes!"

You raise an eyebrow. "You like your shoes?"

He nods aggressively. "Yes. Very much. Best shoes ever. So comfortable. Wow."

Nice try, Jisung. Nice try.

[draculasstrawhat]

Just on this?

I used to think it was bollocks. I used to think hormones couldn’t be that important, that it couldn’t make that much difference, that I knew who I was and some weird biological signals couldn’t affect my mood *that* much.

I went on T because it was a shortcut to getting top surgery. I didn’t expect it to make that much difference.

I’ve suffered from depression since I was eleven years old. When people talked about depression being “a black dog” that followed you everywhere, or a thin, bleak greyness infecting everything, I thought they were making shit up. For me, depression wasn’t feeling nothing, feeling low, feeling haunted - it was anguish. Wild, dangerous anguish that didn’t leave room for anything else.

A bad day meant a deep, black, endless pit filled with knives, loathing, and shame. It felt like there was no floor, no depth to which I could not fall. It meant violence - to myself, usually - was the only way of managing feelings that overwhelmed me. It meant the kind of madness where I’d go out at 2am at night, in the rain, with no shoes on, and walk for five miles.

Within a fortnight of stating T, that was *gone*. Just… gone. Like it never existed. Sure, I’d feel low, and I’d reach for the old, black, endless pit and it just wasn’t there. Literally, I went to my grandma’s funeral, counselled a suicidal friend, and helped someone through a bout of addiction, yet somehow I felt *less bad* than I used to feel on the daily.

And I’m not saying I was miraculously cured, or that I didn’t still have really bad days, and it’s taken a lot of therapy to get to where I am now - but literally 80% of my depression was fixed, more or less overnight.

Just take the T. Or the E. Whichever one would do the thing for you.

please just take the estrogen you can literally stop at any time but the second you start to feel things the way you were meant to feel them and start building and decorating your house it will finally feel like a home

[roseyodditea]

early in a relationship with a sudden needy and touchy lighter?🥺

I told myself I'd get around to writing this after studying for exams and that was... TWO WEEKS AGO!?? WHOOPSIE!!!

Surprise Visit - Lighter x gn!Reader

Summary -> 700 words. Cute little wake up to a clingy Lighter. Warnings -> Not proofread. Written on little sleep. A/N -> I am so sorry this took so long to write. I'm an engineering major and had five exams in two weeks (I did good on all of them tho)

Lighter is a hard man to get close to. There are very few people he let closer than just an arms length away, like a feral alley cat. You had practically snuck your way in through his defenses with a few well placed pushes from Ceaser and one too many times Burnice “accidentally” left you two alone. It worked like a charm, of course, and before you knew it Lighter was taking you out on motorcycle rides under the stars, riding into New Eridu just to grab a coffee with you, and even upgrading his phone just so he could text you more consistently. 

You stirred awake at an hour far too early only to see a text from Lighter gracing your phone screen.

Lighter <3: “Busy today?”

Rolling over lazily to snatch your phone off of the nightstand, you squint at the light before tapping a quick reply.

You: “It’s too early to think but I’m pretty sure I’m free. What’s up?”

Lighter <3: “Can I come spend time with you?”

You thought for a moment. This was the third time this week he had asked to come to New Eridu. First it was wanting to rent a new movie from Random Play, then it was wanting to walk around around the river, and now it looks like he doesn’t even have an excuse. 

You: “Of course :)”

Shortly after sending the text, you fell back asleep, wanting to sleep until at least the sun came up. Your dream was disjointed and confusing, your body hot and uncomfortable when you woke up. You toss the blanket off of your shoulders clumsily, fist colliding with something. 

“Ow…” You suddenly jolt awake, looking over. “Lighter? Why…. How?”

“You didn’t answer the door. I thought I’d let myself in.” He rubs his nose where you had hit him. 

“The door was locked.” “I let myself in.”

“You don’t have a key.”

“I let myself in.”

“How?” You smile as you prop yourself up on your elbow, looking at the way he was laying on his back, an attempted respectful distance between you two. You broken the distance and reached out to touch his nose, making sure you didn’t actually do damage when you accidentally punched him.

Lighter melted under the touch, like a cat in the middle of a sunbeam. “I didn’t break anything, I promise.”

“Do I need to upgrade my locks?” You guide him to roll on his side so the bright light of the sun was behind him, highlighting his body in an almost angelic way. 

“Oh absolutely. Anyone with a cheap lockpick set can get in.” He drops his voice to a tone, not wanting to disturb the bubble of comfort around the two of you.

A comfortable moment of silence hangs in the air, Lighter looking at you with uncharacteristicly soft eyes, like you were the most precious thing he had. 

“When you asked to hang out, I didn’t know you meant as soon as I woke up. What are you running from, Lorenz?” You tease as you trace a finger down his jaw, feeling he had shaved his stubble off right before coming over. 

Lighter took your hand and kissed the pads of your fingers. “I’m not running from anything. I’m running towards you…”

He gives that genuine look, his guard almost entirely let down at this point. The words were borrowed, of course, probably from a book Ceaser was reading, but the fact he said it counted for a lot in your heart. 

“You’re hopeless.” You scoff and bring the blanket around the both of you, no longer caring how warm you felt.

“You like it.” Lighter immediately capitalizes on the closeness, holding you tightly against his chest, hiding his face in your hair. 

“I do… Quick little nap and then breakfast at the cafe?”

“Sounds perfect.”

**********

The ‘quick little nap’ turned into a several hour long nap, both of you feeling too safe and comfortable to even think about getting up. When you finally woke up for the last time, you were now on your back, Lighter’s head on your chest, the rest of his body draped over yours, arms tight around your stomach. You were trapped. 

“Lighter?” You nudge gently, trying to wake him up.

“No..” He squeezed tighter, hiding his face. “Please… let’s just stay like this… I need this… Need you…”

“Oh how could I ever say no to you?”

[elleluvsjurin]

baby mama wony HCs

requested

continuation of bounded

pairings: jang wonyoung x fem!reader

cw: mentions of sex, g!p wony, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of pregnancy and babies, non idol!au, wonyoung becomes a wifey

during your pregnancy

-she’s obsessed with your bump! always rubbing, kissing, or just staring at it honestly.

-the two of you had an estranged relationship but with the new baby that you were carrying she wanted to put it behind her.

-she was really really hurt when you left her that day. she was SO angry and resented you for it until she finally got what she deserved from you, an apology.

-she was the first to find out that you were having a girl, the two of you would be welcoming a daughter into this world.

-pink, pink, pink, and more pink! that’s all she wanted for her daughter. it would be her baby’s signature color.

-your baby bump turned her on, more than she would imagine. she loved rubbing your bump and making sure that you were ok as she made love to you.

-she knew that you had gotten insecure over the past few months because you were putting on the weight from the baby but she loved it. and she would make sure to let you know.

-you and wonyoung weren’t official but you made up for the time that you hurt her, which is what she loved and came to accept. you were making progress and that’s all that mattered.

-her anger and sadness turned into adoration for you and her future baby girl.

-you decided to let wonyoung pick the baby’s name.

After your pregnancy

-wonyoung named the baby, Ari. jang ari. jang wonyoung’s daughter will be the prettiest girl that ever walked the earth! (according to wony!)

-Ari, meaning pretty. it was short, cute and meaningful, both of you loved it.

-ari was wonyoung’s spitting image with some of your features. she was wonyoung’s pride and joy, she’d do anything to protect ari.

-not that you didn’t like the ari as much because of course you loved your beautiful baby. ari was the reason why wonyoung changed and for that, she values her daughter.

-as you were going through postpartum, wonyoung did everything she could to help you out. whether it was making your meals, doing laundry, or simply helping you find an outfit. she always helped you out.

-while wonyoung helped around the place, she’d have ari in a baby carrier. ari stayed by her side at all times.

-your heart swelled everytime you’d see wonyoung interact with the baby, it’s like you fell in love with her all over again.

wonyoung always sat on the couch and played with the baby. whispering little phrases in her ear or kissing her cheeks. you’d came from the bed that you were resting in to get some water when you seen her out of the corner of your eye.

you watched her interact with the chubby baby and you smiled, it was like a seratonin boost, that was until she noticed you.

“what are you doing out of bed, I thought told you to rest. You had a baby like 4 months ago and your body is still not healed fully.” wonyoung says, scolding you in a way.

“well like you said, it’s been 5 months. im feeling fine.” you start, going to take a seat next to her whilst looking at the baby. “gosh she’s your twin, im jealous. she’s so beautiful.” you mumble and wonyoung smiles, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “you’re so beautiful.” wonyoung repeats to you.

“what are we?” you ask, taking the baby from wonyoung’s hands. “what do you want us to be?” wonyoung replies and you think for a moment.

“well we’ve changed within the past year and we both said a lot of things that we didn’t mean. i hurt your feelings in the past and I’ve reflected on myself during my pregnancy. I’d like to take our relationship to the next step, if that’s what you want.” you say. “ok. then marry me.” wonyoung says nonchalantly.

“w-what?” you say. “marry me, you’ve been living with me for God knows how long. you might as well be my wife.” wonyoung says whilst standing up from her seat, holding her hand out for you to grab it. “be my wife, we’ll go pick out rings and go to the courthouse…tomorrow.” she finishes. you laugh in disbelief before getting up and you put your baby on one side of your hip while grabbing her hand. “deal. I’ll be Mrs. Jang.”

wonyoung pulls you into a passionate kiss. she’s wanted to do this for years but now it’s finally happening. no more crying, no more fights, no more heartbreak because you’re finally the wife of jang wonyoung.

Five years later

-five years have passed since you’ve had the babe!

-you and wonyoung had a big wedding with family and friends, ari was the flower girl.

-ari is now five. she’s tall and slender like wonyoung, she still looks like her but she’s growing into the features from you.

-ari is very smart. wonyoung has set up the best educational system for her. however, wonyoung has enforced that ari will be getting to the top by her brain and not by her looks. wonyoung figures that ari will be a model once she’s older.

-wonyoung takes care of Ari’s educational needs and you take care of her domestic needs.

-you have not specified that you’re opposed to having more kids but wonyoung wants Ari to have a sibling. in the near future, maybe.

-it may seem like wonyoung does everything for ari(mostly), but she has the money and you have the brain. together, you two make a powerful duo to help shape your daughter into the woman that she will become.

-at the end of the day, wonyoung is the baby mama wife ever!

[mischievous-introvert]

Diet is so personal. Anyone who tells you otherwise is being cruel and probably is trying to sell you something. It’s about balancing capacity, resources, needs, desires, and ethics. If you want to eat in a way that improves your life, pay attention to your relationship to eating and cooking. I have put a lot of work into understanding how to independently care for my temperamental disabled body. My best advice is to learn how to cook food you’re excited about.

I get extremely anxious/overstimulated in grocery stores and struggle to leave the house, so I get a local produce box delivered. Figuring out how to cook different things becomes a fun challenge, and when I make delicious things I can blow my friends minds.Having local produce makes me feel proud of the environmental impact and more connected to the agricultural cycle. It’s not gardening my own food but it’s a step closer. It motivates me to eat it before it goes bad because I care about the plants and I can be excited to turn them into an experience I enjoy.

If I don’t like something, I ask myself why, and what I can change. I think of texture, and the balance of sweet, salty, citrus, edamame, I think of the process I used to get to eating. I struggle with energy so I like to make things on days I have it that I can throw in the microwave. If it’s a can of beans and some bread that works too. I try to balance vitamins, minerals, proteins throughout the day, but it’s a day thing not a meal thing, snacks are great, and the only standard you have to meet is your own. I try to be aware of what my body responds positively/negatively towards. I eat an entire plate of a single food that I enjoy that makes me feel full if I want to. I don’t care if that’s weird. I avoid eating foods I have allergies or sensitivities to even if that means passing on something that smells delicious, I have to appear picky, or say no to someone and that’s scary to me. They don’t live in my body, and I deserve to enjoy eating and digesting.

Got myself a vegetable chopper. Learned most vegetables taste great when I roast them in my toaster oven with olive oil garlic salt and black pepper. Wanted to eat less sugar because it makes pain worse, but I refuse to cut sugar because for me the added pain is worth the added joy and freedom of eating desserts. So I try to bake all of my treats. Baking takes energy so I do it less often. Will I eat an entire plate of cookies before they finish cooling? Absolutely. I put the effort in. I deserve it. However, now I eat less sugar. Do I still buy desserts? Sometimes yeah, I want encouragement to bake, not a rule I have to follow out of fear of shame. Do I have days when feeding myself at all feels like a burden I can’t shoulder because I hate everything, I’m in so much pain, it’s hard to stand, and I feel nauseous? Yes. Those days I have meal replacement shakes and order food. I’m not too broke to order food. No one is too broke to deserve to eat. I’d rather have debt than feel like I have to starve to save money.

Sometimes I just order food because it will make me happy. Associating food with joy is worth it. Sometimes that means ordering a pizza. Sometimes that means trying a new recipe. Sometimes it means making my own recipe in chaotic freedom. Sometimes it means preparing a fancy dinner for my QPP or baking cookies for my bookclub. Sometimes it means researching a recipe from another culture because people have been loving it for hundreds of years and I think that’s beautiful.

If you find food makes you anxious ask why. Figure out how you can make it feel more beautiful. You deserve to nourish yourself in a way that truly feels nourishing.

It's time wrench the phrase "Eating Healthier" out of the claws of the diet industry.

It should mean increasing your daily nutrient intake. It should not mean starving or deprivation. Because really, how could it?

Eating Healthier is about what you ARE eating, not what you aren't. It's a game of addition, not subtraction. If you give up pizza and change nothing else about your diet, you aren't getting any extra nutrients. If anything now you're getting somewhat less.

So sure you could replace the pizza with salad. Then you're getting more nutrients. Or you would be, if the salad was actually appetizing and you wanted to eat it. And if you weren't actively resenting the salad for not being pizza.

Which can also put your body into a stress state leading to less nutrient absorption from the foods you're eating to begin with.

So what if instead you just ate pizza with your salad? (Or perhaps a different nutrient dense side that you would actually enjoy.)

Letting yourself eat the foods you enjoy and exploring other foods to eat in addition is healthier, quantitatively speaking, according to daily nutrient intake (and uptake) than depriving yourself or starving yourself ever could be.

Eating foods you enjoy lets your body relax, it leads to higher nutrient uptake from the foods you're eating, and more overall satisfaction.

Deprivation diets are not about health. They're just about eating less, and that is not healthy.