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babydollmarauders · 7 months

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THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like i can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3

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margotw10bis · 7 months

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Cold Hearted. JJK [m]

hockeyplayer!Jungkook x figureskater!reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; e2l

Words: 13.7k

Synopsis: It's no secret that you absolutely hate Jeon Jungkook, the captain of the hockey team. But you hate him even more when you are forced to share the same ice rink.

Warnings: some violence (pushing during hockey games and one punch is thrown); fingering; unprotected sex; oral sex (m. receiving); use of the words 'slut' and 'whore'; spanking

"But why?!" You loudly whine

Even the holidays season with its merriness, its cinnamon and brown sugar scents and its family gatherings cannot soothe your disgust. You were so happy this morning when you woke up and saw the landscape painted in white with the thin layer of snow. You have been in a good mood all day long — which your big Christmas sweater witnesses since you wanted to share your cheerfulness when you put it on.

And now, Jimin is looking at you with pitiful eyes. You know he is as upset as you are, maybe even more since he is the president of the Figure Skating Club of your college. You might not be the president, but you're the vice-president and every member of the club knows that you'll take Jimin's lead when he graduates. Ever since you stepped foot on campus, you have been truly invested. Your whole life has been dedicated to this sport, it even allowed you to get a scholarship for Seoul University.

"It's just for a couple of months" Jimin tries but it does little to soothe you

"I won't negotiate with those neanderthals" You state, crossing your arms against your chest

"Stop being overdramatic"

"I'm not! All they do is smashing each other against the walls and flow a stupid ball into the goal!" You exclaim

"It's a puck, Y/N" Jimin corrects

"Tomato, tomato" You wave his comment off "They are fucking stupid!"

Jimin stays silent for a few seconds, knowing that there is nothing he could say to ease your anger. It's no secret that you can't stand the hockey team. They are just a bunch of brainless guys trying to hurt each other just to mark a goal. It's barbarian. It's just the exact opposite of the delicacy and art of figure skating.

But what you hate the most about the hockey team, it's its captain: Jeon Jungkook. The guy is simply obnoxious. It's the typical kind of guy that thinks his social popularity allows him to do everything he wants, including mocking others. He is an idiot and his handsome face only makes him more irritable to you.

That is why you refuse, with all you have, to share the ice rink with him. Even if it's just for a few months. Even if it's for shooting a k-drama with your favorite actor. It's just too much to ask and you know that you will end up strangling Jungkook to death by the end of this situation. And you are not risking your future for such a little fucker.

"Please" Jimin begs with his flirty face, immediately making your face redden

Park Jimin knows damn well how good he looks. And he surely knows how to use it. His bleached hair is to die for, his eyes are hypnotizing and his lips... gosh, how can he have such kissable lips? He can be so appealing, knowing exactly what to do to win your heart. You try to look away but Jimin catches your attention again by gently grabbing your hand.

"I need you. You know I can't to do it without you" He purrs with his oh-so-sweet voice

You purse your lips but you both acknowledge that you are losing this battle.

"Please, do it for me" He adds

His eyes shine so brightly that your heart stops a bit. Fuck... He is good.

"Okay..." You sigh, earning a perfect smile from Jimin "But I won't make any efforts with Jungkook and his jerk team. You'll be lucky if I don't murder any of them" You warn

"Thank, Y/N! You're the best!" Jimin exclaims while hugging you, deciding not to care about your threat because he knows that you will, in fact, do everything you can for the club

♡❆~❅~❆♡

It's with a choked throat that you enter the ice rink today. Usually, it's the best time of the day because, when you are skating, you feel free. You feel like nothing matters than your skates and your moves express everything you can't put words on. You have been skating since you were three because your mom was a former Olympian in that very same sport. Of course, she was strict with you but she always gave you the choice to keep going or to stop. But you didn't. When you were happy, upset, or sad, you put your skates on and slit on the ice. After entering Seoul University, it was just natural to join the Ice Skating Club and you haven't regretted it one bit.

Until now.

You are so mad and grumpy at the idea of just seeing Jungkook. And you are even madder when you know that you'll have to act civilized because Jimin is not here and you are the one representing your club.

You are lucky enough to be the first one here. You make sure your skates are well-attached and start your warm-up. You even succeed in slightly relaxing when more members of the Figure Skating Club join you. And since it has been more than fifteen minutes, you even think that the hockey team won't show up.

Well, that's what you thought until you hear some shootings — similar to monkeys when they find food — and you witness the players entering your sacred place. They are wearing their hideous hockey jersey and acting like the stereotyped jocks they are.

You feel your whole body tensed and you stop your track, waiting for Jungkook to be his usual self, that's to say a prick. And you don't have to wait long for it...

He slides gracefully towards you, his helmet under his arm so his stupid face is at full display, and you cross your arms against your chest, clearly notify him that you are not in the mood for bullshit.

"Hello there, sunshine" He greets you with a wild smile, certainly trying to lure you but it doesn't work and you raise a brow "It looks like we have a problem" He continues with the same smile

"Oh really?" You ask

"You see" His voice has become softer and the goosebumps running on your skin is a sign that you won't like his next words "We need to train for the championship so you need to postpone your... thing"

This little bitch.

Jungkook clearly doesn't care about your club, not even taking it seriously. Your fingers tickle with the willing of slapping him.

"How sad, we arrived first" You fakely pout "I guess you have to postpone your thing. Toodles"

You wiggle the tip of your fingers to bit goodbye and turn around. Jungkook stands speechless one second but he is quick to grab your arm.

"Wait!"

You throw a death stare at his hand on you and he immediately takes it away.

"I think you don't understand, we need to win the championship" He explains, a little more stressed

"I think you don't understand. You are on our practice time but we have still welcomed you. You are not the only one training for a championship, Jeon. If you don't respect our club, you are free to train somewhere else" You bite back

"Come on, you can't possibility think that dance skating—"

"Figure skating" You rectify with a frown

"Whatever. You can't possibility think that it's more important than hockey"

Your mouth open in shock and disbelief. You are ready to slap him but, fortunately, Nayeon interferes. She is always sweet and the fact that she is dating one of the hockey players might help. She tries to make Jungkook understand that your club and your activity is as important as hockey — to a personal level for the members but also for Seoul University because you are competing for the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You would like to tell Nayeon that she's wasting her time because Jungkook is too stupid to understand that but you stay silent and throw harsh looks at the captain — which he ignores completely.

You are boiling with anger, so much that your body trembles. You knew that you couldn't act pacifically with those neanderthals and that it would be impossible to share the rink. You knew it but you are still angry, furious that Jungkook despises your club so much. How can he think that he is better than you? That what he does is more important than everyone else? You know exactly how he is, yet you still had some hopes that he would act civilized...

You see red when you notice how he is trying to charm Nayeon and that's enough for you.

"Listen to me, you douche" You bark

Jungkook is shocked by your anger, you can see it on his face — widened doe eyes and opened mouth. Surely, no one must have dared to speak to him like that.

"Rather you accept to play only on the half of the ice rink which, to be honest, is very generous from us, rather you find another place. I'm sure it's simple enough for you to understand that, right?" You notice the captain opening his mouth to protest but you don't give him the time to speak "Right now, you have pissed me off so much that I don't want to see your stupid face. So get out and come tomorrow if you are ready to act like a decent human, with an apology towards us"

Jungkook can see in your eyes that nothing will make you change your mind and leaves, downhearted. His team tries to make him fight but he silences them with a mumbled 'we'll practice tomorrow'.

When the ice rink is free of hockey players, the other figure skaters of the club join you and thank you for defending them. You smile brightly at them and finally you start your training.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

A lot of things have changed the next day. First, the film crew has settled all its equipments. Even during competition, there are not as much lights, camera supports and so on as right now. Someway, it's a little bit impressive and you grow excited at the idea of meeting the main actor.

But the second point drives all your happiness from your body. The hockey team has learnt its lesson and they have arrived early. Shoutings and rough sounds of the puck being stricken fill the usually peaceful ice field. You sigh, already tired by the future conversation you'll have with Jungkook — during which you'll probably loose braincells.

"Sunshine!" Jungkook yells with a bright smile that only seems fake, you can see it even with his helmet on

You wince at the nickname. It feels like he is making fun of you and you surely don't like it.

"As you can see, we arrived first so, following your rules, you have to go"

You are speechless. And Jungkook seems so proud of himself. Is he fucking serious?!

"Are you crazy? You know damn well why I told you to leave yesterday!" You throw at him with anger

"It's just the way you say it works, sunshine" He fakes ignorance

"Stop with the stupid nickname!" You snap

"But it suits you so well" He pouts and you want to slap him in the face 'So I guess you have to go. Toodles"

The captain mocks you by doing what you have said and done yesterday but only this time, Jimin is here. While you are trying to convince yourself that murder is not the solution, Jimin talks with the hockey team. He has always had everything a leader has. He can stay calm, even when you are ready to explode. And his peaceful nature seems to work because after a few minutes of negotiation, he turns around and waves you to come.

It has been decided that you'll share the ice rink, each one of you having one half of the rink. However, on Thursdays, the hockey team will access the whole rink, and on Tuesdays, it will be the Figure Skating Club. You just know that you'll have to do your best to ignore the hockey team, which is not easy when all they do is yelling like four-year old kids.

However, after two whole weeks of this agreement, no murder has been committed — which is a Christmas miracle. Jungkook is still growing on your nerves but not speaking to each other certainly helps. What helps too is that you are trying to do a technical figure and you have spent days concentrating and doing it over and over again. However, your efforts are poorly rewarded because you still can't do it.

You sigh, nod at Jimin's advice and prepare to try again. You clear your mind, concealing all the noise around you and visualize the movements your feet have to do. You are ready, you can feel in your bones that, this time, you will succeed. You open your arms, start sliding to increase your speed and at the exact right time you are willing to jump, a sharp pain in your butt stops you.

It's like someone has pushed you and you fall heavily on the ice. You growl in pain, your eyes watery at the painful spot on your left asscheek. Oddly enough, the pain is precisely located.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Nayeon asks with worried in her voice

You don't have time to answer because someone else arrives next to you. Someone you clearly don't want to see.

"Sunshine, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry!" Jungkook apologizes but it only makes you madder "Where are you hurt?"

He then puts his gloved hand on your ass like it was nothing. Your cheeks burn with wrath — and only wrath that's for sure.

"Get your hands off of me!" You yell

When you turn around, you hiss as you sit down because it's so fucking painful. The hockey puck next you informs you of what has just happened.

"Are you fucking stupid?!" You let your anger spill through your mouth "Can't you see that the goal is on the other side?!"

"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't want to throw it this way" Jungkook explains

"And you think you are ready for the championship" You mumble to yourself but the captain can hear it too

You stand up, Jungkook willing to help you but you wave his hands away, pretty harshly if you have to be honest. However, you welcome Jimin's help. You two slide on the ice until you can take off your skates. It hurts like hell and you can't sit. If you didn't hate Jungkook already, you would surely do by now. You can't believe that someone can be so stupid and dangerous. You are angry, even more when you know that you were about to succeed in a figure you have been trying for days! Tears of frustration — that you present as pain for the club because of your ego — roll down your cheeks.

Jungkook looks at you with a pout and sorry eyes. He really didn't mean to hurt you. He wanted to catch the puck, slide between two players and throw it into the goal with a awkward but technical angle. He hasn't planned on losing balance and throwing the puck while he was fighting not to fall. His heart has stopped when he noticed the puck fly away, and even more when you fell on the ice. He knows that the puck is painful, that is why hockey players wear so much equipment. But you didn't have any. Only your black legging with a light skirt and a thin but warm wood long sleeve t-shirt. He has no doubt that it hurts like hell. And he has no doubt that you are not ready to soothe your hate for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

After going back to your dorm, you head to the bathroom. You want one thing: take a hot shower. But the huge bruise on your butt is as painful as it is ridiculous. You mumble all kinds of insults towards Jungkook and the whole night is necessary to soothe your anger.

However, your mood alters when you spot the said captain running to you the next day as you are heading to class. It's too early in the morning to deal with idiocy, but thankfully your wooden beanie and your large scarf hide your face. Maybe Jungkook won't recognize you — but you are not that lucky. The cold weather of December numbs you, that's certainly why you don't directly yell at Jungkook to fuck off when he stops in front of you.

His usual cocky smile is nowhere to be seen — oddly — but a worried eye adores his face.

"How are you?" He asks

You sigh but answer that you are fine nonetheless.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. I bought you this"

You give him a curious look while Jungkook bowsers through his bag. After a few seconds, he hands you a tube of ointment.

"It's the brand I use for wounds. It works very well, so your bruise will gone in two days" He explains and he seems sincere

"Thanks" You lowly say as you take it

You do appreciate the gesture but you are not ready to show it to him. In fact, it's just showing that he is decent human and knows that he has done something wrong. You give him a quick smile and escape because this civilized conversation with Jungkook is so weird. You are used to roll your eyes at his stupid cocky behavior or snap at him when he does something that makes you mad — which happens a lot. But you are definitely not used to talk to him with a quiet pleasant topic. It's so strange that you spend the entire morning with a frown, replaying again and again your interaction and not playing much attention to your professors.

And universe doesn't let you rest because when you step into the ice rink, your heart stops: freaking Kim Taehyung is here. He is way more handsome than on TV and you wonder how it's even possible. His brown fluffy hair, his perfect face and his bright smile... He looks like a prince and you can't help your cheeks from blushing.

You keep your eyes on him but discreetly approach Nayeon and whisper:

"What is Taehyung doing here?"

Even if you are whispering, your excitement is noticeable on your voice — and maybe also in your eyes that are sparkling.

"The crew said he wanted to meet us and apologize for the inconvenience" Nayeon explains

Jesus Christ, you can't believe that Kim Taehyung is right there. Your heart beats so fast, you're not sure how you are not dead yet. But your beating heart stops when the said actor turns around and looks at you. You gulp while he offers you the most beautiful smile that you've ever seen.

You look like a deer caught in the headlights when Taehyung walks toward Nayeon and you. Gosh, he is so handsome...

"Hi"

How can his voice be so attractive? Deep and warm and sexy. Almost like he were singing jazz. And he has said one syllable.

"Hi" you reply with automatism because your brain has ceased functioning

Sadly, Nayeon is required by Jimin, which leads to an one-on-one with Taehyung and you are not sure you can survive it.

"It must be hard to change your practice schedule for us" He says with concern

"I think we have made it work. Actually, it's an honor to have such a big star here" you reassure him with blushed cheeks

"Still, I've been told that you had to share the rink with the hockey team... Those are not ideal conditions to train"

You fight pursing your lips out of disgust at the mention of the team, especially because it reminds you of Jungkook.

"We have found an agreement" you simply declare because there is not much acting you can do to pretend not being mad at this situation

"I'd like to do something to apologize"

You look at Taehyung with a surprised look. You wonder what he means. He is one of the most popular actors, what would he apologize? Especially to you? Once again, your brain flies towards Jungkook, and Taehyung's thoughtful behavior proves that the hockey captain is just a boor. Taehyung would have every rights to simply not care and let success go to his head but he doesn't. However, Jungkook thinks his pitiful popularity in University is enough to allow him everything...

"If you accept, I'd like to invite you for a cup of coffee" Taehyung asks with his sweet voice and you almost faint

"I— It's—" you stutter with so hot cheeks that you wonder how you are not melting yet "I would love to"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims with his perfect smile, clapping his hands at the same time, and your heart skips a beat at this handsomeness "I'll wait for you at the end of your practice, is that okay?"

You frenetically nod and watch Taehyung leave. What the hell has just happened?! You must be dreaming because oh my god, Kim Taehyung, the actor every girls are in love with, has just asked you for a.... A what exactly? Isn't it a date? Oh lord, you have a date with Taehyung!

It's just perfect that it's Thursday because Jungkook and his ice hockey team aren't there to mess up everything.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Taehyung has proved himself as a gentleman. Just like he has promised you, he was waiting for you and you went together at one of the hype coffee shops of Seoul — the one you can read about in tabloids because idols go there. It was so perfect and Taehyung was so sweet. Honestly, it felt like a dream.

Unfortunately, all dreams have an end. The very next day, you were back to your usual average life, fighting the urge to murder Jungkook because he was acting like a pretentious dick — nothing out of the ordinary to be true. And for a whole week, you haven't seen Taehyung.

Except that you are now practicing with the Figure Skating Club, still sharing the ice rink with the hockey team and yelling from time to time when they try to cross the line — literally. Everything is like usual, except for one little — huge — detail: Kim Taehyung is leaning against the side of the ice rink and he is fucking looking at you. Your brain stops, pretty much just like your whole body to be honest, causing you to almost fall. But it's not the worst because you are hypnotized by Taehyung. He is even more handsome than the last time, wearing a black leather jacket with a black turtleneck sweater. The simple yet sexy look is to die for.

You take the time to look at him, not caring that you are still sliding on the ice until you bump into someone. And of course, it's Jungkook.

If you didn't hate him this much, you would have thank him for catching you and prevent you from falling and hurting yourself. But you can't feel any thankfulness when you feel so disgusted at the idea of him touching you. You harshly push away his hands.

"Hey, a simple 'thank you' will do" He rebukes you

You roll your eyes and think that this interaction is over but Jungkook has a different take on it. His eyes lift up and he notices a guy he has seen before behind you. He can't quite put the name on him until it hits him: it's the famous actor you can see in all those k-dramas!

When Jungkook realizes that you were lost in deep thoughts because of this actor, a playful smirk paints his face. He makes sure to take off his helmet to fully let you appreciate it. He lightly shakes his head to give some fluffiness to his black locks that were caged. If he weren't so arrogant, you'd say he is cute. You know, at the very first second you see his wry smile, that you won't like what follows.

"You have found yourself a cute little boyfriend, sunshine" He boasts

"This is none of your business, Jungkook" You reply with gritted teeth

"But I should at least greet him, don't you think? Now that we are close friends" He teases you

You just have time to open your mouth in order to threat him, but the hockey captain is already sliding away. You start to panic and slide after him but the conversation between Taehyung and Jungkook has already begun. This is a nightmare! Why won't Jungkook let you live?

You arrive just in time to hear Jungkook says:

"Y/N is quite something, she is a real pain in the ass"

You see red. Okay, it's official, you are going to kill Jeon Jungkook.

Not only he dares to make fun of something he did — throwing a fucking puck right on your butt —, but he also use it to belittle you in front of Taehyung. This is exactly why you hate Jungkook. He is just mean for no reason and he takes pleasure in hurting people. Moreover, he thinks that's cool to do that.

You waste no time and grab him by the collar of his hockey jersey. You give an apologetic smile to Taehyung who seems to be half-amused half-ill-at-ease by Jungkook's stupid acts.

You drag Jungkook to the locker room and throw your skates away with wrath. Jungkook seems unbothered while he mimics you and calmly takes his gloves off.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell at him "Why would you even do that?!"

"Oh come on, it was a simple pun and you know it" He tries to down play

"Maybe I know it, but Taehyung doesn't! But it doesn't change the fact that it was mean"

"You act way meaner with me, sunshine" Jungkook states with a frown, suddenly more serious

"Stop with the nickname!" You say while you don't calm down "And, just for your information, I won't ever try to belittle you in front of someone you're interested in"

"Oh really? You're interested in him?" Jungkook teases you as he steps dangerously closer and pokes his inner cheek with his tongue "Let me tell you that you are delusional if you think that Kim Taehyung cares about you"

You are taken aback his harsh words but even more by his harsh tone. You have always witnessed Jungkook speaking with an obnoxious playful tone, even when he is saying mean things. But it's the first time he is speaking to you like he was mad. Real mad.

"We went on a date..." You manage to say lowly, almost like you were trying to defend yourself because you have done something wrong

"A date?"

Jungkook bursts into laugh, a laugh that clearly states that he is mocking you. Someway, it hurts.

"You are living in a fantasy, Y/N. Taehyung won't ever take you on a date"

"And why not?" You snap back, quite offended

"Because this Taehyung guy doesn't know how to deal with a woman like you. You're too much for him" He replies with a raspy voice that makes you shiver

"I'm too much for you" You play tit-for-tat

"Hum... I don't think so"

Jungkook takes a step closer. You can clearly see the mold on his nose and the one under his lips. And those lips... They suddenly seem so appealing. And the two rings shining catch your eyes, making you stare at his mouth more than you should. Jungkook is surely handsome, even with his little scar on his cheek that you haven't noticed until now. His black doe eyes are harsher than usual but his frown and his clenched jaws are hot. You have never been this close to him and the atmosphere is so dense.

It would only take you to move a few inches further to press your mouth onto his. However, you don't have to do it because Jungkook does.

His kiss is rough, full of the hate and all the despise you feel for each other. You both growl into each other's mouth. Your hands go up to tug on his hair and his hands harshly squeeze your ass. None of your gestures is sweet. A surprising wave of arousal fills your body. Even though you hate Jungkook, his touch on you feels good. So fucking good.

The messy kiss doesn't stop, even when Jungkook pushes you against the door. The hardness of the material makes you moan, especially when Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck. His wet kisses are nothing like gent but you don't want him to be. You didn't know you liked being kiss like that until now and the thought panics you but you easily put it aside because only Jungkook's lips on the thin skin of your throat count.

You tug harder on his black hair, making him growl against you, when his sneaky hand reaches your crotch. You are so deep in the fog of pleasure that you can't think straight. Your pussy grows impossibly wet when Jungkook starts drawing circles on your covered clit. Your usual practice black leggings certainly help to feel his finger on you.

"Oh fuck..." You groan but immediately bite your lower lip because there is no way you'll let Jungkook know that you love what he is doing to you

"I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you'll shut the fuck up" He teases you with his sexy deep voice

You wish you could reply at that but your mouth falls wide open because Jungkook's hand find its way underneath your leggings and panties. You gasp at the coldness of his digits against your burning and wet pussy. His touch is magical and your legs don't support you anymore. You have to grab his shoulders but you can't feel his strong muscles because of the hockey outfit — which you curse against in your mind.

He presses hard against your clit while drawing delightful circles. It's so fucking good but it's not enough, which your clenching pussy makes you know. You start grinding on his hand and you hate yourself for having so little control over your body. You're pathetic, you know it. Yet, you want to stop.

Jungkook drifts his tattooed hand lower, which allows his rough palm to press against your sensitive bud. However, it's worth it when his long digits trace the outline of your dripping hole. Fuck, it's so... You don't even have the words. The delicacy of his touch drives you insane and you just want him to fill you with his fingers. Surely, Jungkook must take pleasure at seeing you so desperate.

You whine and buckle up your hips at the faint hope to slide his digits inside you, but Jungkook is having none of it. He lands a kiss on your burning throat and whispers into your ear:

"Tell me what you want, sunshine"

Suddenly, the nickname doesn't irate you. Quite the opposite actually because you feel your walls tightening around nothing — which is driving you insane.

"Fuck me" You answer with a shaky and weak voice

You don't even recognize yourself but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook takes a fat lap from the base of your neck to your earlobe, at the exact same moment two of his fingers enter you.

"Oh my god!" You moan as your head rolls back and hits the door

Your walls are swallowing and welcoming him. It's perfect. The stretch is just perfect. And the pleasure is the most perfect one. The contrast between your hot pussy and his cold digit only increases your arousal.

Jungkook starts his pumping slowly but deeply. You have no doubt he can feel how you love it. The whole scene is scandalous and you have never been this audacious about sex — you are getting fingered in the fucking locker room for God's sake! Yet, you don't care.

When Jungkook enhances his pace, your poor cunt throbs around his fingers, urging him for more.

"Your pussy is so tight" He growls against your cheek but he pecks you rather sweetly — a strange contrast with his fingers into you

His free hand wraps around your neck and your walls tighten.

"Fuck, you love that, don't you?" He awes at you "You love being fucked like that, uh?"

His dirty mouth... His smirk is as exasperating as sexy. You won't give him the satisfaction to answer — honestly, you don't have to considering the wetness between your legs. You rather grab his black hair and put him into a kiss so he shuts up.

You feel yourself getting there. Jungkook's fingers pumping you and curling to hit your sweet spot are doing wonders. Jeon Jungkook is fucking you with his digits in the locker room. The exact same Jeon Jungkook you hate.

The realization makes you panic and you suddenly push him.

"Stop!" You yell

Jungkook immediately halts his movements and pulls his hand out of your panties. You feel disgusted of yourself at the arousal noticeable on his fingers.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks with worry

You hide your face into your hands with shame but Jungkook starts to panic, really thinking he went too harsh on you and your poor little cunt.

"Shit, I'm sorry" He tries to soothe you with a gentle voice but he actually makes things worse

When you look up at him, he gulps. You're not hurt, you're furious. Against you, against him. The only remaining of your — fucking hot — sexual interaction is your burning cheeks and the wetness between your legs.

"This—" You speak as you mention between you and him "—never happened. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you"

You run to the bathroom and lock up yourself. The cold water you splash on your face definitely helps for your cheeks but not for your dignity. You feel horrible. You can't believe you have let Jungkook finger you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Christmas is getting closer and closer. However, you are not in the mood this year. You usually love this season. It reminds you of the very first time you've put some skates on because they were your Christmas gift when you were four. You are usually so excited. Not this year. Because you have let Jungkook touch your most intimate part.

You have done your best to avoid him, even when he has tried to talk to you. You just couldn't stop replaying the scene over and over again in your head, cringing at it every single time. Why did you do it? You hate Jungkook. Then why? Were you so angry that you were ready to ease the tension by all means? Or were you simply attracted to— No way! As you said, you hate Jungkook, you are not attracted to him. Never.

However, it has been getting hard to believe when you were on another date with Taehyung and all you could think about was the stupid hockey captain. And it made you feel so guilty. So many women would kill to talk to Taehyung — fuck, you were one of them don't so long ago. It makes you hate Jungkook even more, because he is changing you and, you're not going to lie, you're scared.

All this thinking is a little too much for you, that's why you have decided to skip practice today, hoping that Jimin won't resent you. Your absence at the ice rink explains why you have absolutely no idea what is going on at the very same time.

For Jungkook, it is quite a usual day — despite his eyes looking for you every two minutes. Ever since your... moment in the locker room, he hasn't been able to put his head in the game. And his teammates have noticed it too. He lied, saying that the upcoming championship was stressing him but the truth is that he just can't stop thinking about you.

He used to find you annoying, a smartass who thinks she is better than anyone else. To be honest, Jungkook knows you're smart but he has to say, you have a shitty temper. He loved making fun of you or pushing your buttons. That's until he saw how serious and rigorous you were with practice — something he can rely to. Until that, Jungkook thought that figure skating was easy, a kind of game. But he saw you and your club. Saw the technic and the art. And he found you so beautiful, even if you were still fucking annoying.

When he kissed you, he wanted to punish you for not looking at him the way he was looking at you. As egoistical as it might sound, he just wanted you want him. Because he surely wants you — even though he is not really about the reason. He understood it when you mentioned Taehyung. Jungkook was used to think no woman deserved him but now, he is afraid he doesn't deserve you.

All the frustration makes him growl and he has no choice but to take a break. He needs to get some air. He doesn't take off his hockey equipment completely but abandons his skates, his gloves and his helmet. The cold hits him when he steps outside. Today is colder than the other days and if Jungkook believed in signs, he would think that it's an echo of how he is feeling inside.

Lost in his deep thoughts, he hasn't noticed the person a few feet away from him, until he hears the mention of your name. His head tilts up and he discovers, with annoyance, Taehyung speaking on the phone. The actor hasn't seen him yet and keeps up with his conversation.

The feeling of jealousy Jungkook is experiencing quietly turns into something else. Anger.

"No, I don't really care about her" Taehyung says, a cocky smile on his handsome face "I'm just having fun. Come on, this girl is completely whipped for me, I could ask her everything. A little scandal is always good for the promotion of new projects. I was thinking about fucking Y/N and make a sextape"

The airy laugh that follows is enough for Jungkook to head toward Taehyung. He doesn't think twice, his steps completely guided by a boiling wrath. The actor doesn't even have time to realize what is happening: he is grabbed by the collar of his coat, turned around and he receives a harsh punch right on his face.

A growl of pain espaces his mouth and his nose instantly starts bleeding, which only adds to the pain.

"What the fuck, man?!" His yell is fainted by the hand he has put on his nose in a vain attempt to stop the blood

Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and Taehyung can see a willing of murder in them. The jaws of the hockey player are as clenched as his fists, certainly ready to punch him again.

"You're a fucking asshole" Jungkook replies with gritted teeth "If I see you around Y/N again, I'll make sure no one recognize your face" He threatens

He turns around, leaving Taehyung in pain and flabbergasted by what just happens. If Jungkook doesn't leave, he might keep his new promise just now. It's not until he is back in the locker room that the pain in his hand reaches his brain. He hisses when he notices the bruised knuckles but the anger is deeper than the pain right now.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Just like every year, Seoul University has organized a small party with all the athletes. The goal is to keep them motivated — but mostly put some pressure on them so they're cost-effective for their scholarship. Until this year, you have managed to escape it but since you're surely take the lead of the Figure Skating Club next year, you have to be there. It's not that horrible: you get to wear a nice dress and have access to free food and drink. You'll just have to smile a little bit to the Head of the University, thank him for his trust and then, you'll be back home.

The 'annual athletes party' is kind of a pride for your college because all the young people attended it are great in their disciple. One of the best of the whole country. And you do feel proud too when you think about that, you are just not so fond of showing and celebrating it like this.

The mansion of the Head of Seoul University — where the party takes place — is beautifully decorated with Christmas colors. Green, red and white are everywhere to see and a huge Christmas tree — that would certainly make Santa Claus jealous — stands in the middle of the reception room. You have to say that you like the Christmas spirit coming from the party. And you are surely not the only one since pretty much everyone is well-dressed, a lot of them covered in green or red even though the majority of men is wearing black suits. You too have shown your Christmas colors with a emerald green turtleneck and ankle long dress. It's truly elegant with the bright red lipstick on your mouth.

You greet some of friends from the Volley Ball Club, appreciating having time to catch up since your schedules are completely different. You congratulate Roseanne for the gold metal her team has won last month and she assures you that you'll have the same soon, after the Asian University Figure Skating Cup. Her kindness warms your heart but you suddenly tense when you spot one particular person.

You gulp and your cheeks take a red shade in no time. To be honest, you've never seen Jungkook wearing a suit before but he looks so damn confident in it — and so damn hot too. His long black hair is slightly pushed back, offering a great view on his perfect face. He looks really good, like a star. You wouldn't be surprised if someone from an agency appeared right now and offered him to join a k-pop group as visual.

When your eyes lock, you feel the usual wave of panic you have been experiencing since the thing — the fingering — in the locker room. However, you feel the need to talk to him. You have to because you won't survive the next weeks at sharing the ice rink if this tension between Jungkook and you doesn't fade away.

Jungkook seems to understand your inner reflection and your unsure steps are thankfully stopped because he comes to you.

"Hi" He says and his neutral tone is not helping

"Hi"

Your voice is raspy because of your stress. You triturate your fingers, which doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who sighs.

"Can we talk?" You ask, even though you know the answer

Jungkook nods and you two walk towards a calmer spot, close to the stairs. After a few seconds of silence, Jungkook speaks.

"Look, I'm sorry" He says, more gently "I shouldn't have... done this"

"It takes two people to do this" You reply and your words surprise him

Jungkook honestly thought you'd yell at him, saying he is stupid and annoying and inconsiderate as usual. He didn't think you'd take your fair share of responsibility — even though he doesn't resent you because he was the one who kissed you first.

"I think we let this thing get out of control" He tells you with a faint blush on his cheeks that makes you think he is ashamed of it

"Jungkook" You start and saying his name without annoyance feels weird because, for the first time, you realize that it's a beautiful name "What is done is done. I was there with you, I didn't push you away when..." You feel your cheeks burning and you lower your voice, almost murmuring "you kissed me"

You spot a strange look in Jungkook's black eyes but you are quick to look away. You clear your throat and continue:

"Let's just forget. We both have a lot of things going on and we know that we need to focus, for the sake of our teams"

The silence you are facing is quite embarrassing, especially because you absolutely don't know what Jungkook thinks. You surely have spoken wisely but you also know that the hockey captain is not the definition of wise...

"You're right, we should forget about it"

You lift up your eyes. The tone he used... It was way too light, even for Jungkook. He is surely hiding something. And you know you are right when you notice the tiniest smirk on his pieced lips. He casually puts his hands in his pockets. He looks like the usual idiot he is, except that you now find him hot.

"However..."

Here it comes.

You knew he had something going on. You wonder what idiocy he is going to say. You are feeling a mix of scare and eagerness — the latest one is definitely new when it's about Jungkook.

"There are things we can't forget about. Like tradition"

A playful grin paints his face but you wonder what he means by that, until he lifts his head up and invites you to look at the ceiling and fuck. You cannot believe a fucking mistletoe is hanging right above you. You certainly haven't seen it before, otherwise you would not have chosen this spot — or would have you?

You gulp and send an unsure eye to Jungkook who only stares at you with his stupid smile. Is he serious? He can't be. He must be playing with you. But he slightly scoots closer and lowers his head. You can smell his cologne and gosh, it messes with your brain. Another organ is affected by Jungkook's flirt: your weak and treacherous heart. It begins to do all kinds of funny things in your chest.

You look straight into Jungkook's eyes, trying to see if he is mocking you but he looks dead serious and you can only gulp, again. He gets closer again and your bodies almost touch. He is close enough for you to feel his warmth. Your inner battle continues unabated. It's not a good idea to kiss him, especially after what happened.

Yet, you want it bad. Real fucking bad. You know how his lips feel on you, you know how he kisses, you know you'll like it, love it even. And it's almost Christmas, isn't it the right time to do things you love?

This last thought sells you on your decision. Your hands go up to settle on his large shoulders that you finally get to feel underneath your fingertips. You stand on your tiptoe and you bring him closer to you. His breath is warm on your lips and you just can't wait to kiss him. Who would have thought that you would die to kiss Jeon Jungkook? Certainly not you.

Right before you can fulfill your wish, Jungkook is getting snatched out of you. You stand there, completely speechless as two policemen handcuff him in the back. You don't understand what's going and the hockey captain doesn't seem to know better. Everyone is looking at him and at you but you can't care because it must be a sick joke, or a nightmare.

"Jeon Jungkook, you are arrested for assault" One of the police officers states before reading Jungkook's rights

What the hell?!

They are heading to the front door and you force your feet to move, running after them.

"Wait!" You exclaim "It must be a mistake!"

"It's not ma'm and your friend knows it, right boy?"

You look at Jungkook, full of hope that he'll tell you that you are right and they are wrong. Jungkook is stupid, arrogant, even mean sometimes but he is not violent. You wouldn't have let him kiss you otherwise. However, Jungkook sends you an apologetic eye and he lets the policemen taking him away from you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

What just happened?

This is what you wonder the entire hour following Jungkook's arrest. Even the word makes you shiver. Obviously, the whole hockey team has driven to the police station, trying to know what happened and how they could help their captain. You wanted to go too — the reason being indeterminate — but Jimin convinced you it was a bad idea. It's just that, with your temper, you would have probably end up insulting a policeman and get arrested too.

A whole day has passed. You have been waiting for practice all day long. You even rushed to the ice rink after your last class, but only to find the place empty. It was impossible for you to concentrate of your routine so you gave up and waited for the hockey team to arrive.

You almost don't notice them because there are no shoutings and cheering announcing their arrival as usual. They are silent and — you can't believe you're saying that but — you hate it. You don't like that they are not in a good mood because it means it's bad for Jungkook.

You run to Mingyu, a hockey player and a great friend of Jungkook. He is the one who must know the most of things. You don't waste time on greetings and directly ask about the captain. The first reaction you earn from Mingyu is a desperate sigh and your heart squeezes.

"It's not good" He starts to explain "He has been accused of punching a guy and breaking his nose. Jungkook said it's true"

"Is he going to get out soon then?" You question with hope

"Yeah, in a hour or so. But he'll have to wait for trial. The other guy wants an apology to find an agreement and drop the charges, and of fucking course Jungkook refused" Mingyu growls with frustration

"Why Jungkook doesn't want to?"

"I don't know, he is stubborn" Mingyu sighs, his annoyance clearly noticeable in his voice

You understand Mingyu. You can't believe Jungkook is refusing to say sorry! It's stupid! He was the one who punched someone, he should apologize no matter what. He is ready to go to trial just not to hurt his pride! It's ridiculous!

"Who is the guy he's punched?" You ask

Mingyu looks at you with eyes widened by surprise.

"You don't know?"

You shake your head to say no. How would you know that?

"Kim Taehyung"

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Furious. It's what you are feeling after your conversation with Mingyu. You knew that Jungkook wasn't fond of Taehyung, that he didn't really appreciate you hanging out with the actor — even though it was none of Jungkook's business. But you didn't think that he would punch him! For what? Jealousy? It must be that because you have never seen them talking. There is nothing else Jungkook could be upset about.

But yeah, even though you are furious towards Jungkook, it doesn't mean you want him to go to prison. You have done a little search last night because you couldn't sleep, way too worried about a certain hockey player. He could go to prison for a year. Even if his sentence is softer, he would still lose all his chances at turning pro. Everywhere he'd apply for a job, it would be noted, clear as day, that he has been convicted.

You don't really know why you are so affected by Jungkook's doom. One month ago, you would have done everything you could to avoid him and now... you are ready to what? Fight for him? It is ridiculous, you hate him. But the more you say that to yourself, the more it feels like a lie.

Maybe that's why you have met with Taehyung, trying to make him drop the charges. Are you ready to drop your ego and apologize to someone for something you didn't do just because of Jungkook? It seems like it. You aren't pleased to do it but it is nothing compared to the way your heart clenches at the thought of him going to prison.

You are a little but shocked when you see Taehyung. He looks... ugly to you. Well, you still can spot his handsome features, even though half of his face is covered by the large white medical patch he has on his nose. It's not even that that makes him ugly to you, it's his eyes. They are harsh and cold, reminding you of a snake.

"How are you?" You ask gently, trying to push away the unpleasant feeling of his coldness

"How do you think I am?!" He snaps back at you "Look at my face! He broke my fucking nose! Do you know how much money I'm loosing right now?"

You tense at that. Is money more important than someone's future? Jungkook is risking it all. Taehyung, on the hand, might be losing money but you know damn well he has enough of it for a few years, a few decades even. And even though you are feeling a dull anger building up inside you, you focus on the reason of this meeting.

"I'm sorry Jungkook punched yo" You say, a little less soft than before

You only earn a scoff from the actor, making you nervous to ask for a favor.

"I know it was wrong, I really do" You start carefully "But could you forgive him and drop the charges? I know Jungkook must feel bad about hurting you, I swear he is not violent"

"Are you serious, Y/N?"

You gulp. Taehyung hisses like a snake.

"I want a fucking apology. On his fucking knees. Don't you think that I at least deserve it?"

You understand that the apology is necessary. You would want one if you were in Taehyung's shoe.

"I'll talk to him. If he apologizes, you'll drop the charges, right?" You ask with a weak but hopeful voice

"Yeah, sure" He answers with a distant tone

Getting arrested and spending twenty-four hours in custody is definitely not an experience Jungkook would recommande. He is tired and he wants to be alone now that he is free. Well, not so free because, as the police officers told him, there is a high chance he is going to prison for a few months.

His parents wanted him to go back home but, to be honest, Jungkook didn't want to face his dad's disappointment and his mom's hopelessness. He rather stays at his dorm and thinks about what he is going to do. Surely, no pro teams would recrute him. What will he do? What kind of jobs accept ex-con? Certainly not the ones he was aiming.

You lift up your head when you hear steps echoing the hallway. Jungkook didn't except to meet you in front of his dorm door. Normally, he would have teased you and would have made a bad joke about you were desperate for his dick if you were ready to wait at his dorm, but he has no energy for that.

"What are you doing here?" He asks with a sigh

It's painful to witness his exhausted face. It's even more painful not to see his usual stupid playfulness in his eyes. You used to hate it but now you miss it.

"Jungkook, you need to apologize to Taehyung" You notice how he tenses at the name "I talked to him, he will drop the charges if you say you're sorry"

Frustration grows in Jungkook while he opens his door. Does he have to repeat himself once again?

"Well, I won't apologize"

"Don't be ridiculous!" You scold him as you follow him inside his room

It's just as you've imagined it: full of trophies and photos with friends. Not so neat but not dirty at all. Just some mess here and there. It's a nice bedroom though: enough place for his desk, closet, bed of course and also a little couch. You easily can imagine Jungkook and the hockey team hanging out here with pizzas. Jungkook's dorm being the most recent one on the campus, he is lucky enough to have his private bathroom with toilets and shower — something you are jealous about.

"Listen, I'm tired and I want to be alone" Jungkook cuts you off, running his hands in his messy hair as he sits on his bed

"Are you seriously willing to give up your life, your future, everything for your pride?!" You yell at him, frustration exploding inside you

"This is not about pride, Y/N!" He yells back "I was right to punch him and I would do it again if I had to. I am not apologizing"

"You are stupid then" You state with your arms crossed on your chest

"Fucking leave then" He snaps back with a harsh tone

You stay silent for a while, quite hurt by his words even though you could understand that he was not the most patient person right now. It was just normal after being arrested.

"Do you really want me to leave?" You ask with a weak and gentle voice

Jungkook looks at you, noticing some hurt in your eyes, and then sighs.

"No, I'm sorry"

"It's okay" You assure him while you are sitting next to him on his bed "I'm sorry too. I just don't want to you to go to prison" You explain and wrap your arm around his large shoulders, which is not easy to do

Jungkook grabs your comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly. The coldness of his fingers are somewhat heartbreaking. Was he cold when he was in custody? Was he treated good?

"Why?"

The question is simple, yet the answer isn't. Why are you so worried about him? There is a simple explanation but you are just not ready to confess it. Not to him, not to you.

"You're my friend" You simply answer

You both know it's not true. Jungkook and you are not friends. Ennemis would be more accurate. Or was more accurate. What are you now?

Jungkook scoffs at your words. The proximity between your two bodies is dangerous. His dark eyes are too intense, his face is too close and he is just too appealing. You gulp and scoot away.

"Why are you suddenly nice to me?" Jungkook asks but it sounds like a reproach

"What do you mean?" You frown

"You always treat me like an idiot and now, you care about me? Why?" He presses, suspicion well noticeable in his voice and it takes you aback "Because of Taehyung?"

What?

You are as surprised by assumptions as by your absence of thoughts about Taehyung. The actor hasn't crossed your mind once. How can it be possible when your brain is filled by Jungkook himself?

"Come on! You have been all over him ever since he has stepped foot here! You think I haven't heard you talking about him with your friends during practice?" He says harshly, clearly blaming you as if you had betrayed him

"Taehyung has nothing to do with that!" You defend yourself but for Jungkook, it sounds like you are defending Taehyung

Once again, he scoffs and stands up, which you mimic. Jungkook is mad, that's for sure. For what? That, you don't know. But it irritates you that he is pushing you away while all you want to do is help him.

"Of course!" He chuckles with sarcasm "You just want him to be out of trouble, right? That's why you want this whole story to stay quiet!"

"You are talking non-sense! You are the one acting like a dumb-ass just because you don't want to apologize!"

You are starting to get angry. Jungkook is back to his usual stupid self and it drives you mad, not because he irritates you but because his life is at stake.

"And I won't apologize!" Jungkook points out, crossing his arms against his chest just like he was daring you to make him change his mind

Your growl with frustration.

"Why don't you understand that I'm not doing this for Taehyung?!" You yell

"Because you fucking came all the way here to ask me to fucking apologize! Why would you do that if it's not for Taehyung, uh?"

He won't understand. He won't believe you, not matter what you say. You get that now. You are so furious — at him for not believing you and at you for not finding the right words — that your eyes get watery. There is only one thing you can do to make him understand.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to press your lips on his. Jungkook tenses at first but when your tongue asks the access of his mouth, his body relaxes and his hands find their way on your hips. You scoot closer, holding him tight because he was so roughly taken from you yesterday. You are now afraid that someone snatches him again and you won't allow that.

You tug on his hair and Jungkook squeezes your ass as your kiss gets heated. It's messy but full of emotions — which ones being unsure to you. Jungkook guides you towards his bed but you resist a little, just to take off his sweater and t-shirt underneath.

Fuck, he is too hot. As an athlete, you knew he had a great body but seeing it... It brings all kind of butterflies in your belly because Jeon Jungkook is definitely a hottie. His shoulders are large, his biceps are huge and his abs... they look so delicious that you want to lick them. He is even sexier with his tattoos.

However, you don't have time to admire him because Jungkook wants to see your body too. He helps you slide your coat off, and your pullover. Your bra joins the slack of clothes in no time. You moan when Jungkook cups your boobs and you shiver because his hands are cold. You arche your back, inviting him to wrap his mouth around your nipples. He doesn't go softly. He is rough but you like it. You feel like a pool of arousal in your panties, it's almost embarrassing.

Once again, Jungkook's hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it to the point it hurts. You replicate by pulling on his hair and you both growl in each other's mouth. When he tilts his head so he can suck on your neck, your hands travel South, not forgetting to caress his brawn torso, to reach his pants and unbutton his jeans. You know don't when or how he got to change his clothes but it doesn't matter because they will be gone soon.

You pull on his pants, urging Jungkook to get naked. As he is taking care of his clothes, you clumsily throw your UGGs away before ridding off of your leggings. Jungkook and you are only covered by your underwear and fuck, he is a sight... His bulge is clearly noticeable and oh my god, he seems huge.

"Take that off" He says with a raspy and sexy voice and you execute

If you think that Jungkook is a fine piece, the hockey player is completely whipped right now. You are so beautiful, all naked in front of him. He doesn't even know where to look because you are perfect everywhere.

He steps closer, caging you so you have no choice but to step on his bed while he is still standing in front of you. His plump and pinkish lips are great but you want to taste more of him. You get on all fours to be at the same level as his dick. When Jungkook understands what you are willing to do, he curses and bites his lower lip. He watches you sliding your hand in his brief and reach for his hard length. It's your turn to curse when you free his cock and finally witness how big he is. It's intimidating but you are one to accept challenges.

That is why you waste no time and wrap your warm mouth around his tip. A salty dry of pre cum lands on your tongue and you hums in delight. Your right hand rests at his base so you can take more of him easily. You love how your mouth feels wide opened for Jungkook. You love it so much that you quickly push your gag reflex. His tip hits the back of your throat, yet you can't take him entirely in your mouth — that's how huge Jungkook's cock is.

He is looking at you with fire in his eyes. You are so fucking hot like that, especially when you look up at him with those innocent eyes while his cock in your mouth. The saliva coating your lips are a sin and Jungkook's hips move automatically, pushing deeper in your throat.

"Fuck, you are so good" He praises "A good fucking slut, right?"

You nod as you can't speak with his dick stuffing your mouth, completely lost in your pleasure. You have no self-control on your body right now and your juices drop down your inner thighs. You want to touch yourself because of how turned on you are. Jungkook too look at your whole body and his eyes land on your ass. Perfect, tempting — especially when your arche your back to suck him off. A loud slap falls on your asscheek, provoking a long moan from you around Jungkook's dick. His tattooed hand rests on your butt and pats it before harshly grabbing it.

"Please fuck me" You beg when your pool of arousal is too much to take

Jungkook pushes his cock back in your mouth, so deep that you choke on it, and slightly bends to slide one finger in your pussy. It feels so fucking good. His middle finger is pumping you at a fast pace, making you lose your last remains of reason. Your walls tighten around his digit like they want to have more, to be more stretched. And Jungkook might understands because he provides a harsh dick stroke to your mouth — hot and naughty gagging sounds fill his room — and pushes a second finger in your cunt.

Drool escapes your lips, coating your chin and Jungkook's balls, the exact same way your arousal drops from your throbbing pussy.

"You look like a fucking whore" Jungkook says but it looks like a compliment with his raspy voice My good whore, right?"

You don't see his face but you have no difficulty to imagine his cocky smirk. You want to bite back to him, arguing that you're not his whore but actually, you are... You are sucking his cock like a maniac because Jungkook surely and slyly makes you want to please him. You don't know how but despite your — former — hate toward him, you have this need to be close to him and let him access everything of you. Maybe because you also want to access everything of him.

You let go of his wet and large dick to take big cups of oxygen but it doesn't mean that Jungkook slows down his pace into your pussy. He even goes faster. You moan loudly before gripping his sheets with your fists and pressing your face down into the mattress. You strategically keep your ass up for him to finger you as much as he wants. Your cunt tightens, and it's worse when Jungkook uses his free hand to slap your asscheek. You gasp and clench around him.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He teases you, an arrogant pride so noticeable in his voice that you would like to deny your building orgasm just to prove him wrong but you can't

"Faster!" You ask

The hockey player grants your request, shaking your whole body through your poor little pussy. He goes so fast and so hard that you are not sure you'll ever be able to walk again. You can feel in your stomach that you are close. Your fists tighten around the cotton fabric of the sheets and you mutter your groan by burring your face.

"Cum, go on, be a good girl and cum"

Fuck, he is good with his words — and with his fingers. As he is pounding into your pussy, you can feel the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger until you explode, moaning something that looks like Jungkook's name. Your whole body shakes and your toes curl because Jungkook doesn't seem to want to stop. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can, making it last for some long seconds until you can't take it anymore.

Your body jolts forward on its own to escape the overstimulation, earning a laugh from the hockey player. You are panting and trying to reach down to Earth. While you are in the fog of your sexual high, Jungkook takes his brief off completely and lays down on his bed. He gently pats your ass — on which he can notice slight red marks due to his spanking — and smirks. You are used to intense physical efforts and yet, you look completely drained.

"Are you going to survive?" Jungkook mocks and you throw a death stare at him

You have your strength back and you are not willing to let Jungkook makes fun of you. He looks so arrogant, laying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head — you try to ignore how his posture accentuates his biceps and his abs. We'll see who laughs last laughs longest.

You straddle him, resting your knees on both sides of his hips. Your boldness makes Jungkook's smile lightly shakes. He is so cocky sometimes but he is not the only one who knows how to fuck. It's your turn to smirk and you do what you wanted to earlier: you lean down and take a big lap of his abs. You gloat when you feel his muscles flex under your tongue. When you reach his pecs, you suck on his skin and paint it with a purplish mark. You kiss it to soothe the pain away but you are sure that Jungkook didn't hurt too much because you clearly felt his dick throb between your legs during the hickey process.

"Did you lose your tongue?" You tease but you are answered by slap on your ass

An embarrassing loud moan escapes your mouth. You won't tolerate that. That's why to strongly grab Jungkook's cock at its base, squeezing it a little bit too much which causes a growl from the tattooed man, and sink on it. You breathe deeply and you slowly sit down. He definitely feels big. Both Jungkook and you have lost your smirk because you didn't except so much pleasure.

"Oh my god" You whisper

At the same time, Jungkook curses 'You are so fucking tight'. You support yourself on his torso, not moving yet because fuck, he is so big. It even cuts your breath. You try to regain your senses but you don't have time for that: Jungkook presses his feet on the mattress and uses his strong thighs to push his hips up. He gives you rough dick strokes, at a quick pace. Your moans are covered by the sinful sounds of your clapping skins.

"Fuck, Jungkook" You groan, falling on his torso

Jungkook's arms wrap around your frame, making sure you don't jolt too much because of his poundings, and he fucks you hard and deep. His cock slides perfectly into your cunt, coated with your arousal, and his balls slap your ass. It's perfect, that's for sure and your walls clench.

"Shit, don't do that" He scolds you but it's not like you can control your body's reactions to pleasure so you clenche even more "You little slut"

"You fuck me so good" You confess and you don't know why but your words spur Jungkook to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head

You are surprised by the tender of his gesture while his cock bumps your pussy so harshly. You lift up your head, look at him. He is cute with his cheeks all blushed because of his efforts. You press your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want to melt into him and Jungkook seems to want the same thing because his embrace tightens and he slows down his pace. His dick slides deep inside you, with passion, just like he was making love to you.

At that thought, you panic a little and you straighten up. You place your hands flat on his stomach and jump on his length. You have to take things under control — both the pace of your fucking and your emotions that are going wild. Your ass hits his lap every time you let yourself down until you take all of him inside you. Your head rolls back under the pleasure. You have never felt so full before. You fasten your pace, your tits bounce and your lungs burn due to your insane riding.

"Fuck, you are taking me so good" Jungkook praises and you hate how much your cunt clenches because you like it "You are a good girl for me, right sunshine?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You have never loved the nickname this much. Your eyes fall on his face. His doe eyes are slightly opened, like he was stoned. Your heart beats faster in your chest and you know damn well it's not your physical efforts that cause it. Especially when Jungkook's fingertips softly caress your cheek. You are so glad that he can't say you blush like crazy because your face is already red.

"Kook, I—"

You stop talking when his free filthy and tattooed hand pinches your nipple. You are surprised and so pleased. You whine and alter your riding which gives a great opportunity to Jungkook to take control again.

"You are going to cum"

It's as much a promise as it's an order. You knew he was dominant but you didn't know that you would like it in bed. Your moans leave your lips a little shaken because of the harshness of Jungkook's poundings. Your cunt grabs his dick so tightly.

You don't know how it's possible but he quickens his pace. You don't know if you can survive it. It's just too fucking good. Jungkook grabs and squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them to fuck you deeper. His finger are too deep in your flesh that you'll have bruises for sure.

Your pussy throbs and you know that you are close. You shut your eyes close and whisper how good he feels. The way his length sketches your walls and the way it slides into you to hit that sweet spot, it's perfect. And the fact it's Jungkook among all the other men on Earth...

You can't support yourself anymore and fall on his torso, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The thin layer of sweat coating his skin only adds to the hotness of the scene.

"Make me cum" You urge him and he provides

He uses his remain strength to give you some deep and harsh poundings, spurred by some rough spanks on your ass.

"Fucking cum for me, sunshine"

You do. You cum on his huge cock and your juices drip down your inner thighs and his dick. You are so high, definitely on cloud nine. You bite Jungkook's neck to mutter your moans but it only pushes him to fuck you harder. It's a lot to take, the overstimulation is not far.

"Kook, cum" You weakly ask

"Fuck, baby" He growls and pulls off just in time to release his seeds on your ass

It was something. The best sex of your life. Jungkook can be arrogant because he fucks real nice.

You roll on the side, panting. You want to take a shower to get rid off of your sweat and of both your and Jungkook's cum but the hockey captain has other plans: he presses you against his side to cuddle. The sweet gesture reminds you why you were there in the first place. But your throat is dry — surely because you have screamed a lot, but maybe also because you are afraid to stop this little magic moment.

"Jungkook" You start softly "Please, don't go to prison"

You didn't know that words could be so painful. You feel it by the way your throat tightens.

The tattooed man sighs, not angrily like earlier but with resignation. That's when you get that Jungkook has made up his mind and he won't change it.

"Y/N, I won't apologize. Taehyung deserved this punch, trust me. And I won't forget myself if I apologize for something that is right to me" He tells you with a voice so sweet that you want to cry — or maybe it's because you know you will be separated soon

"But it's so unfair!" You whine, your heart squeezed in your chest

"Maybe, or maybe not. I have no regrets because I know I did the right thing and it was my choice so don't be sad, sunshine" He conforts you, caressing your back and pecking your head as you rest your cheek on his chest

You know that you will cry a lot. You also know that, whatever the sentence is, you will wait for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

You are waiting, your heart beating loud and fast in your ears. Today, for the first time in two months, you haven't thought about Jungkook. It's been two months since you last saw him, at the trial. He kept his promise and refused to apologize to Taehyung. You have been feeling like dying ever since he was sentenced to one year imprisonment. It was so unfair. You were ready to punch the actor in the face too. And you were mad at Jungkook because it looked like he was simply accepting his fate. You weren't accepting it.

You cried a lot and poured your soul into work and practice for the competition. And today is the big day. The Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You have done your best, you have done a very technical figure which surely brought you a lot of points from the jury. But mostly, you haven't thought about Jungkook. For the first day since the trial, you haven't been totally miserable.

And now, you are waiting for the result, the usual tension and stress of the competitions filling your body and your mind. You accept it with thankfulness today. You close your eyes and pray every gods. You want to win. You really, really want it. You are competitive, that's for sure. But you also want to win for Jimin and the whole Figure Skating Club. And mainly, you want to win for Jungkook because he won't ever be able to participate to a competition.

The loud buzzing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear your name when the first place is announced. You stay still until Jimin hugs you tight and whispers 'You have won!'. You still don't believe it when you look around you and your friends congratulate you. It's like a dream.

Did you really win the first place of an international competition? Yes, you did.

A bright smile paints your face and you join the podium next to the ice rink with weak and shaking legs. The gold medal is being put around your neck. You hear the crowd cheering, which is amazing. It's a very strong and emotional moment, maybe the most important one in your life so far. Your club, your university even, will be celebrated in whole South Korea. It's amazing and perfect and everything you have ever dreamt of. You have spent your whole life working and scarifying many things for that, this moment. You have spent days wondering how it could feel to be the winner of such a prestigious competition.

Never you have imagined that you wouldn't be happy.

You are proud, you feel loved, admired but you are sad. Now that the competition is done, Jungkook fills your brain and you are worrying about him. You feel alone while you are saddened by so many people. You wonder if he is okay, if he is beaten up by other prisoners. The tears roll down your cheeks, interpreted as happy tears from everyone else. They are not.

A huge bouquet of flowers is brought to you. It's so big that you can't even see the person giving it to you but it's the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. When you take it in your hands, ready to automatically and politely thank the person in charge of that mission, your heart stops and the bouquet escapes your fingers.

Jungkook.

Are you dreaming? What is he doing here? Are you officially going insane? Maybe the adrenaline rush is messing with your brain. However, even if it's just a mirage, you jump into his arms. You are not scared to harshly hit the floor if you have imagined him.

But you never hit the floor. Jungkook's strong arms are securely wrapped around your frame and he hugs you tightly yet tenderly. You cry with your face buried in his neck. You missed him, so fucking much. You would have laughed five months ago, if someone told you that you would miss the hockey team captain so much. And here you are.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here? Are you hurt? Were you treated well? What about prison? Are you free? How?" You throw thousands of questions in a few seconds

"I missed you" He simply replies, like it is explaining everything

When Jungkook cups your face, you finally get to see him. He looks tired but he doesn't look wounded. He is beautiful. So, so beautiful that your heart misses a beat.

You waste no time and press your lips on his. They are cold but you don't care because your whole body warms up. Just like you were stuck into an ice cube during the last two months and you are finally free. You circle his waist with your arms, afraid he'll disappear.

"Don't leave me ever again" You order but your voice is weak and your eyes are still watery

"I won't, I promise" He whispers with so much gentleness that you are not sure you're awake "I'm free and I'll explain everything to you later. Now, enjoy your victory, sunshine"

Sunshine. You hated so much this pet name before because you thought Jungkook was making fun of you. Now, looking into his black and shining eyes, you know that he is not. He truly sees you like his sun. You can see he has fallen in love with you and he is not lying when he is saying that he'll wait for you. You don't even care why or how he went out of jail, he is free and it's all that matters.

Jungkook loves you and...

"I love you" You tell him after kissing him one last time before shaking hands with the jury and the organizers of the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup, a bright and genuine smile on your lips

Taglist @chimmisbae

Guys, I'm so so sorry for the wait. I've got problems with Tumblr but I'm back 🩷

#bts fanfic #bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jjk #jjk x reader #fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 6 months

Text

Royal News

quinn hughes x royal!reader

note: these two. i just-

November 22, 2023

Written by TMZ team

Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/n of Cambridge as well as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex made a surprise appearance at the Vancouver Canucks game last night.

The Princess has been on quite the anticipated tour, starting in Ottawa this past spring, heading east then ending in Victoria where she'll leave for later today.

Before the game the prince and princess had dropped the puck at the ceremonial puck drop, or rather not dropped the puck as Prince Harry had to be told to.

But it wasn't the prince's embarrassing story that's making headlines today, it's the Princess of Cambridge leaving with the Canucks captain, Quinn Hughes.

Hughes is an American hockey player, a couple years younger than our princess, but nonetheless we would love this couple together.

We know King Charles is never one to come become his children and love, we can only assume the King will be even more supportive than he was with the Duchess of Sussex. Hughes has never been married and on paper would make a great fit for our outgoing and adventures princess.

Quinn was on FaceTime with his brothers, they were in a hotel room in Michigan just having come back from their morning skate. Luke happened to go on his phone and see articles about his brother and the princess.

"Were you ever gonna tell us your dating a princess?!"

"We're not dating. That was my first time meeting her." The oldest said, rolling his eyes slightly, though his brothers ignored his obvious annoyance and continued their questions.

"And she came home with you?!" "Damn, Quinny!"

Rubbing his hand over his face, Quinn defends himself, "Shut up. It wasn't like that. We just talked, and got to know each other."

“Yeah? ‘Got to know each other’ how?” Jack said in his usual teasing voice with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, just talked- she’s coming out to Seattle in a couple days and-” “Shit! No way, dude.” Luke came into frame now, sitting next to Jack on the hotel bed. Jack elbowed Luke slightly, telling the boy to give him space before he looked back at Quinn on the screen, “And how exactly did you pull this off?”

“I have no idea, she was just waiting outside the dressing room after the game and asked me out. It was a little awkward ‘cause her security guys were right there the whole time.”

“In your apartment?” “No Lukey, outside the dressing room. They were outside the apartment the whole night though.” Jack’s head shot up at this, “She stayed the night?!”

“Yeah, but nothing happened. I’m not you.” “Fuck off.” “We talked all night and we watched a couple movies.”

Jack and Luke seemed to have got, maybe not exactly what they wanted, but got out all the questions they wanted to ask out.

Abby

@/abby_hughes43

Quinn is with a LITERAL PRINCESS????

Elaine @/rowdy8643 replying to @/abby_hughes43 if this is who beats me to him? i respect it

maddy @/speaknoww replying to @/abby_hughes43 Y/n 😍😍😍

georgia @/i.love.ur.son replying to @/abby_hughes43 she's a princess??

jenny @/dysdale_hughes11 replying to @/i.love.ur.son she's apart of the british royal family

Jay @/colefeeling22 replying to @/abby_hughes43 we don't know if they're together

emma @/87_crosbysgf replying to @/colefeeling22 girl...

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog @ghostwritermia @shallow678 @definitly-creative-words @caro8409 @anotherfan07 @books-hlmc @reminiscentyearn @bunbunbl0gs @flairupdatess

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x royal!reader #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #royal!reader #british royal family

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lumosinlove · 7 months

Text

Vaincre

June part iv

I’ll tell you the truth

But never goodbye

Remus thought about practice and all the sounds he wouldn’t be hearing again for a couple of months now. A din he desperately hoped would come again in the Fall.

The quiet bustle of the boys arriving. Yawns and some early morning groans. Bags being tossed down into stalls. Velcro and stick tape. The skate sharpener across the hall. The shivery sound of a bucket of pucks being scattered onto the ice. The slap of pucks and bodies on the boards rebounding in a high-roofed, empty rink. The ping of the goalposts. Bursts of laughter between drills. Showers stuttering into a hard, hot spray and the echo of voices off of tiles.

He wanted it all again. The crowds and video tape sessions. The signings and the chance to meet fans. The wins—even the losses. Even the press conferences. He wanted to see his best friends every day. He wanted to win.

They didn’t have a destination, but neither Remus nor Sirius tried to change that. They walked through the New York streets, downtown, where everything felt a little bit like a movie set. Most places were shut tight for the night, but it still felt alive.

Sirius looked handsome in the city lights. In his jeans and t-shirt. More importantly, he looked relaxed. More relaxed than Remus had expected, anyway.

“You’re calm.”

Sirius didn’t look over at him, but a small smile appeared on his face. “Maybe I just look it.”

“Okay, fair.” Remus squeezed their tangled fingers together. “I just meant that you don’t seem…”

“Miserable.”

“Well, sure. That word works.”

“I’m just…” Sirius looked down at him. “Not sure if it’s sunk in yet, maybe. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back and Remus felt his engagement ring press into his skin. If anything good came out of this, it was that he would not be taking of his ring any time soon. He caught it glinting in the passing lights.

“New York really never sleeps,” Remus said.

“Neither do we, apparently.”

It was helping more than sleep, though—the walking. It was starving off the soreness they were bound to feel soon. He’d already glimpsed a bad bruise forming near his knee.

“Either way,” Remus said. “I like these walks of ours. It feels different than Gryf.”

“Ouais,” Sirius agreed. “At least we both have rivers.”

The next street they turned onto was not asphalt, but cobblestones. It wound and bent, going against the grid of New York that Remus had become accustomed to. He leaned his head back to look up at the lit apartments above. It might have been two AM, but he could see shadows moving around, or the colorful flickers of televisions.

“Did you talk to Logan?” he asked.

“Non, not really. I mean, on the ice I did. But I don’t know. I wanted to get out of there.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighed. He fought the urge to start talking about the game. Part of him wanted to know each and every single one of Sirius’ thoughts. The hit in the second. The odd, sloppy breakaway in the third. That last buzzer attempt.

“You want to talk about it don’t you,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, then groaned, hiding it in Sirius’ shoulder. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

It was something special, to have someone who could read his mind. He closed his eyes, inhaling Sirius’ familiar scent and trusting him to guide him on the street. Sirius’ hand disappeared from his and wrapped around his waist instead. A kiss was pressed to Remus’ temple.

“Curb,” Sirius said softly, and Remus stepped down to cross the street then opened his eyes.

“Magnetic,” Remus said. “Do you remember them calling us that?”

“No one needed to remind me.”

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ hips and pressed a kiss over his shirt. “I know. I was just remembering.”

Their passes had connected so thoroughly this series. So well. It was awful, almost mean that the passes that stuck in their minds the most were the ones that had missed.

“How about we keep remembering…” Sirius began. “But how about we do it with fries and milkshakes.”

Remus looked up. The idea made his mouth water. “Yes. What made you say that?”

Sirius just smiled and jerked his chin forward. “Là.”

There was a diner on the corner. Many of the booths in the window were filled—Other people in search of late-night snacks. The neon sign out front read 24 HOURS and Remus could see a group of girls with milkshakes and a basket of fries in front of them.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. “Love of my fucking life.”

He felt Sirius smile. Sirius reached for his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing his ring. “Ouais, it’s true.”

He held the door open for Remus.

They were shuffled into a leather, worn booth and given giant seemingly endless menus. Remus found that he could hardly sit still. He kept laughing to himself. At one point, when Sirius gave him an amused, dazed look, he’d had to cover his mouth.

“You’re wild on adrenaline,” Sirius laughed.

Remus wondered if that was it. If adrenaline was what this was. These weird, surprising tight bursts of joy bubbling over in his chest. Surely he should be feeling low. He had just lost part of his childhood dream yet again.

Was adrenaline fueling the smile Sirius gave him when their two chocolate milkshakes and order of fries arrived? Did adrenaline cause Sirius to skeptically watch him dip a fry into the thick chocolate? Did it make them both laugh when Sirius tried it, made a face, and quickly switched back to ketchup?

Or maybe something had changed.

“You know, I always wanted to talk about games with you,” Remus said.

“Always?”

“You know. Before.” Remus brought the straw of his milkshake between his teeth. “I always wondered what you were thinking. Even when you were mean to me.”

Sirius groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Arrêt.”

Remus reached across the table and tried to pull his hands away. “I did! Sirius, don’t hide, come here.” He laughed when Sirius wouldn’t. “Sirius.”

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed himself up from his side of the booth, only to slide into Remus’, arm along the back behind him and tight against his side.

“Wh…” Remus began.

Sirius leaned forward and stole the fry from Remus’ fingers with a short tug of his teeth. “You said come here.”

“That was my fry.”

“Too late.”

“Meanie.”

Sirius just made the sound that Remus associated with both him and Logan—a very Quebecois sort of tisk of disapproval (in Logan’s part, mostly jokingly aimed at Finn). Sirius’ arm slid from the booth to Remus’ shoulders and he kissed him. Remus tilted his chin up into it and let himself relax.

“Chocolate and potatoes?” Sirius asked as he dipped to kiss Remus’ jaw. “Really?”

“Sweet and salty,” Remus replied, trying not to let his eyes slip closed. They were in a diner.

“Weirdo.”

Remus hissed at a playful nip to his neck and Sirius pulled back. Sirius dragged his milkshake over to their side of the table and took a long sip. Remus could tell he was thinking. Remus had always been able to tell when he was thinking. Even when he hadn’t been able to figure out anything else about Sirius.

“Tell me,” Remus said.

“I wish I hadn’t broken that stick,” Sirius said quietly. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Re…”

“I know,” Remus said. “I know.”

Sirius let out a frustrated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Merde…I don’t know what gets into me. Well, I do…”

They had both been expecting them, but as the clouds of loss edged back into their peripheral vision, Remus sighed. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus and tilted their heads together. Remus closed his eyes as they took each other’s weight.

“Julian said it best,” Sirius said. “I wanted this for you.”

“And you.”

Sirius pressed his lips together. “I—yes.”

Remus arched a brow, confused by the conflicted look on Sirius’ face. “What, what’s that look?”

Sirius sighed. He smiled, just a little. A bewildered sort of smile. He hooked his fingers into the plastic fry basket mindlessly, the greasy paper crinkling at his touch. His eyes went a little unfocused as he thought. Their blue-gray looked so fair in the diner’s light. “I keep wondering why I’m not as upset as I usually would be. I keep trying to, like…” He moved his free hand outward in a small sharp motion, palm forward. “Push myself towards being that upset. Which is insane. Why do I feel guilty for feeling slightly okay about this?”

“I…” Remus nodded slowly. “I get that. I do. Hey, but that’s good. It’s good you feel okay, you wouldn’t have been okay other years. That’s why I said you seem so calm I’m…I’m fucking proud of you for it.”

“Ouais. I guess…” His expression turned almost shy. “I guess me too.”

That made Remus smile.

“What I mean is…I’m gutted.” Sirius picked up a fry. “I want to throw something, I want a do-over…I want to be angry at Logan.” He tossed the fry back, turning to look at Remus. “But the thing that I keep thinking about isn’t the game. Isn’t the Cup. It’s you.”

Remus’ smile faltered. He looked down. “Yeah? Well… you keep catching yourself feeling guilty?” Sirius nodded. “Well, I keep catching myself thinking that this was it. That I’m finished.”

“You’re not. Re.” Sirius’ hand cupped his shoulder and Remus turned his head to look down at it. He could have drawn his scar in perfect alignment even while not being able to see it. Sirius’ fingers, over his shirt, traced it perfectly, too. He watched Sirius do it once, then twice. It was so much apart of him that even Sirius could map it into his skin.

“Loops.”

“You almost never call me that anymore.”

“Well, right now you’re my teammate as much as everything else and I’m telling you you’re going to get there.”

Remus smiled. He felt the waver in it and so did Sirius. “Telling me as my Captain?”

“As your Captain,” Sirius confirmed. His fingers traced the scar again. “As your friend and teammate who watched you…watched you take every part of your life back from Fenrir.”

Remus surprised himself with a laugh and tears springing to his eyes. “Fuck. I did, didn’t I?”

“Ouais.” Sirius kissed a tear away. “You fucking did.”

“Oh my God,” Remus whispered as the tears pressed harder at him. He tucked his face into Sirius’ neck and Sirius wrapped him up tight. His voice was warm and familiar in his ear.

“I’m telling you as all those things, and I’m telling you as someone who loves you more than anything. Ever.” Sirius’ hand spanned his back, rubbing gently. “D’accord. I think that was most of my English for tonight.”

Remus laughed tearfully again, and then let out a quiet sob, shoulders hitching. “I don’t know if I’m crying because I’m sad or relieved or what.”

“I don’t know either,” Sirius said. His voice held a teasing note. “But our waitress looks like she’s going to bring us free pie.”

Their next laughs were realer, and Remus pulled back. Sirius made a soft sound and thumbed away the tear tracks on Remus’ cheeks. Sirius still looked tired. The strain of the game was still there, but there was a happy, weightless flush to his cheeks that Remus had never seen before.

Sirius dipped a fry in his chocolate shake and held it out to Remus. “Sweet and salty night.”

Remus let Sirius feed him the chocolatey fry. Sirius dipped his own in ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Remus looked over his familiar profile. He’d seen it in shadows and bright lights…he would see him soon in the lake house’s sunset.

“Next year, mon loup,” Sirius said. “You and me. It’s not the end.”

Remus nodded and let Sirius tuck him back under his arm. “You and me.”

Logan was leaning against the side of the rooftop bar between Luke and Alex, listening to everyone swap stories and enjoying the warm wind on his back. It was good to be with Percy and Will again. He was glad now, basking in the New York night, that he hadn’t ruined this year for himself—at least not the entire year. He was glad he could stand here laughing with them about old times. The desperate fog of sadness from his first month still haunted him, but it was easier now. That was all he could hope for.

His rum and coke was sweet, but not as good as it was when Finn made it for him. The chicken wings on the table were spicy, but not as balanced as Leo’s. What had started with promises of a big, wild night had mellowed out quickly. It seemed like the team was content to simply be together, basking in the high of the win. Logan was basking with them. Just a little. Even when part of his heart, part of his mind, part of everything that was him, was at home with Leo and Finn.

It was close to three in the morning and Percy was in full form, joking with him about all the girls trying to get his attention. It was true—their group had been clocked the second they came in.

“I swear that’s the sixth one,” Percy sighed, looking over at the bar. “We’re just stars in your galaxy huh, Tremzy.”

“It’s the eyes. Nothing’s changed since college,” Will added. “Thank God Finn isn’t here.” Will had stayed out with them, which was rare. Usually he went home to his family before long. Logan was happy he was here. He’d always loved how loud his laugh was. It reminded him of Freshman year, hanging out in the kitchen of OKN house with Finn and Percy, watching Will cook the house dinner. He’d been such a good captain. The best, besides Sirius.

“What would happen if Finn was here?” Saint asked. He was standing at Luke’s side. Luke kept stealing sips of his whiskey—and narrowing his eyes playfully when Logan smiled at him.

“He, ah, sort of forgets what flirting is,” Logan explained and Alex nodded, pointing at Logan like it would enhance how true that was.

“I mean, maybe it’s more like he’s too good at it?” Percy offered.

Logan laughed. “He talks to everyone and it’s only when they ask him for his number after like, twenty minutes of talking—”

Alex laughed. “Then he’s like, oh no.”

Logan tried for a Finn accent. “Oh, shoot, sorry, I’m actually…”

Will threw his head back with that wonderful, infectious laugh. “Wait, that’s so dead on.”

Logan smiled. “But it was so so wonderful getting to know you! Those pictures you showed me of your dog—Man, they made my night.”

“All right,” Saint held up a hand. “I get it.”

“Yeah stop, it’s creepy now,” Alex said. “That’s scary good. Maybe better than mine.”

Luke scoffed. “Dude, you can’t have a Finn impression. You are a Finn impression.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Alex held up a hand. “If anything, Finn is an impression of moi.”

Logan smiled. He glanced at his phone. One new message, but from Noelle telling him he was coming to lunch tomorrow. It was late.

“Hey, hey,” Percy said, making Logan look up. “I know that look…Nu-uh. Not yet.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, smiling. “Perc.” He put on the Finn voice again. “C’mon, give me a break.”

Percy shuddered. “Okay, I didn’t mean to open this can of worms. This terrifying can of worms.”

“Perc, he beat his boys out today,” Will said. “If he wants to go home, let him.”

Percy put his hands against his chest. “But I haven’t even gotten to the best part of my day yet!”

“How could we ever guess,” Saint said flatly.

Percy winked at him. “Sebastian…Cassie Baker smiled at me today.”

Logan laughed and finished his drink. “Ouais, I’m out. You can moon over my ex-girlfriend without me.”

Alex finished off his drink, too. “I’m done, too. This was fun, boys.”

Percy spluttered. “What? It is young. The night. The earth—is young!”

“I have two boyfriends in my bed, warm and asleep,” Logan said, pushing up from the wall. “And my bed is usually very cold and very empty. So. This was fun. Goodbye.” He looked over at Luke, knocking him lightly in the shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Luke jerked his chin in reply.

“Tremzy.” Percy actually pouted. “No, non, no.”

“Ouais, yeah, ouais,” Logan said. Percy grabbed onto his arm and made a show of putting most of his weight on Logan to keep him in place. Logan did nothing to help him and Percy began sliding towards the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Will dragged Percy back to his feet with a fond shake of his head. “You’re so embarrassing.” he nodded to Alex and Logan. “You two have a good night. Don’t beat yourselves up too hard. It was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed but nodded. “It was.” He looked up and called over to the bar. “A round for these guys, Hank!” He tussled Percy’s hair. “My parting gift, Perseus.”

Percy sent them a mournful look, but looked willing enough to accept the drink. “Fine.”

Even Saint cracked a smile.

“That really was a good Finn,” Alex said as Logan followed him down the stairs to the main restaurant and out the door. A breeze picked up on the dark street.

“Merci.” Logan shivered a little in his thin shirt. “Are you calling an Uber?”

Alex sent him an unimpressed look.

Logan sighed. “You’re walking, aren’t you?”

“What do you take me for?”

“Fuck,” Logan said, but followed him.

It was like walking with Finn—Logan didn’t have to think about directions or finding his way around. He knew they lived near each other but would have to split up at some point. Alex would tell him when they did. For now, the air felt good against his skin and the silence was gentle. Sometimes he still felt like he could hear the game in his head.

“Finn asked me once to try and take the shot for you if I could,” Alex said.

Logan wasn’t surprised. Alex touched his elbow briefly to get him to turn left.

“Luke offered me the same,” he said. “It…it is what it is.” But that wasn’t quite right. “Non. It fucking hurts.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I’ve had that with Kasey. You want to apologize when there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Logan half nodded, half shook his head. “I don’t know. I wish I had gotten to see Le before we left. I thought he needed space. I thought I needed space…I guess we did. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Logan said. “I miss him.”

“You’re walking home.”

“I know,” Logan said, eyes down. “But I miss him.”

Alex’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing gently.

“Is Kasey doing okay?” Logan asked.

Alex was quiet for a long time. When Logan looked over, he was frowning down at the ground and fiddling with the small, dark diamond he wore.

“Alex?”

Alex guided him right. The light was red but not a car was in sight. “It’s…really hard for me to tell right now actually.” He stepped up onto a low wall and balanced for a few steps before jumping off again. The temperature had dropped. Logan thought it felt like rain.

“You’re the one who told me to talk to Finn when I was worried about us,” Logan began carefully, and frowned when Alex sort of flinched. “You’re not the type to not take your own advice.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Sometimes I am.”

Logan supposed that was true enough. No one always practiced what they preached. Logan watched their feet as they walked, waiting for Alex to say more. They had fallen into sync. They were quiet for a while again. Alex lead him straight, then left, the straight on again. Logan knocked their shoulders together at one point. Alex knocked back.

“I’m not…worried about us,” Alex said suddenly. “Exactly… I just wonder—I wonder if I’m…” He rubbed a tired hand across his face as they avoided a puddle at a curb. Logan was beginning to think this was about the wedding. He didn’t blame Alex if it was. If Leo and Finn suddenly decided to get married, he’d crawl out of his fucking skin.

“You should tell them,” Logan said softly. He realized he was replying to unsaid things, but if anyone might understand even a sliver of Alex’s situation, it was him.

Alex’s face tightened. “Tell them what?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need to.”

“What I need to?” Alex repeated. “What I need is to show them—show them that I…” Alex gave a sharp shake of his head. Just as suddenly, Alex switched topics. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Logan looked up at him. “Alex—”

“I hope—did I force you? I’m sorry, Tremz.”

“What? Non, non. I…I’m glad I came. Really, I am. But—”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Just checking.”

The streets turned to cobblestones and took on curves. There were still a few apartment glowing. Logan liked that. It felt like Gryffindor. There was always a light on. Finally, Alex stopped.

“You’re right,” Alex said. “I’m left.”

“Oh, I thought you were agreeing with me.” What he meant was you can talk to me. “Al, can I do anything?”

Alex smiled. It was a little tight, but he gave Logan a playful shove in the right direction. “No. Thanks, Tremz.”

Logan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know how to push either.

They stood there in front of each other for a moment. Alex huffed out a laugh and hugged him hard. A hug Logan associated with Finn, with Finn’s parents. They both did the little shoulder pat that their mom hugged with, too. It made Logan smile.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, muffled by Logan’s shoulder.

When Logan had crossed the street, he turned. He felt like he hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d already made that mistake once tonight with Leo.

“Mais—I’ll say one thing?”

“What’s up?” Alex nodded, waiting on the corner.

“What you said earlier,” Logan said. “In the locker room and just now. About showing them. That we can be both lovers and—” He almost said enemies. “Opponents.”

“The…oh. Yeah?”

“I think…I think I won a hockey game today,” Logan said. "And I love my boyfriend. If I had lost a hockey game, I would still love my boyfriend. When there are no more hockey games, I’ll still love Leo. And if someone, some fucking reporter wants to link those two things, then they can go to hell.”

Alex was shades of blue and silver across the narrow street.

Logan shifted, a little nervous now. “I don’t think…I don’t think we have to show anyone anything. If it’s okay for me to say…”

Logan thought of the hell this year had been. He thought of Leo, holding him when they’d found out he was going to New York. Leo, tumbling into their living room in the middle of the night when Logan had come home from All-Stars. Leo and his soft kisses in the bright hospital hallway while they waited to see if Finn was okay. None of that was a show. Leo might like to put on a performance on the ice for the fans, but everything else about him was instinct, real and pure. Logan admired that. He’d put up fronts for Finn for so long, fronts that he was still tearing down.

“You don’t have to show Kasey and Nat anything. Not, like, a happy face or that you’re okay. That’s not…” Logan shook his head. “That’s just a bad habit, Alex.”

Alex tilted his head up to look at the faint moon over the city. It wasn’t full, but it was getting there.

“Tremzy…” Alex said slowly. When he smiled, the moonlight lit up his face. “You know what?”

“Quoi?”

“You’re fucking right.” Alex put a hand to his chest. The necklace glinted between his fingers. “You’re so fucking right.”

Logan let out a breath. He smiled back. “Yeah? I don’t know if that made sense in English.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice cracked, his brown eyes were bright with tears, but when Logan made to step forward he waved him off.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’m going home now.”

There was a lot of relief in that word. So much that it made Logan smile and feel choked up, too. “Me too.”

Logan tried to open the door as quietly as possible, going slow and expecting darkness.

Only, the lamp above his couch was on, turned down to the dimmest setting, and Finn was looking at him from just below it. He was wearing his faded NASA t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet crossed on top of a pillow. His sling was draped over the back of the couch, his arm resting easily atop another pillow which also propped his book up.

Sleeping against his chest, was Leo.

Logan wanted to crumble to his knees.

“Oh,” Logan mouthed. He kept perfectly still.

Finn folded the book closed silently. He had his glasses on. Hi, his soft eyes said, and then with a glance down at Leo and a palm on his back: Don’t worry, I’ve got him.

Logan set his keys into the bowl by the door as quietly as he could. Leo. He toed his shoes off. Leo. He walked over to the couch and knelt beside them.

“You are so bad at sneaking,” Finn whispered—so quiet. “Did you have a good time?”

“Ouais,” Logan whispered back. He settled a palm beside Finn’s on Leo’s back, eyes trained on his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Logan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss over his t-shirt. He looked up at Finn so he could read his lips more than hear him. “Had a good walk with Alex.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “Oh? Alex…is very good to walk with.”

Logan nodded. He would tell Finn he was a little worried tomorrow.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked softly.

“He will be,” Logan said. He nodded towards Leo. “And ours?”

Finn rubbed a slow hand down Leo’s back with a sigh.

“Lo…”

So far, Leo hadn’t stirred, but at Finn’s touch Logan felt the change in his breathing. Logan could always tell when Leo was awake. Slowly, Leo’s eyes opened. His cheeks were flushed. He regarded Logan sleepily for a moment. Logan felt Leo’s muscles tense as he remembered.

“Hi,” Logan said softly. “Hi, Le.”

“You—” Leo began, but his voice was hoarse and he had to begin again. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I did,” Logan said. “But I want to be here. Merde, Le, I wanted to be here fucking hours ago, I…” Logan shook his head. He was upset with himself, more so than he’d allowed himself to realize earlier tonight. “I should have come and see you. Soleil, I didn’t know…I didn’t know if you’d want…God, I love you, what can I do? Is there anything?”

Tears filled Leo’s eyes. He gave his head a small shake.

“Okay,” Logan said. Was he allowed to reach out to him? Did Leo want that? “Okay…”

“I’m going home with my parents tomorrow for a couple days, Lo.”

Everything in Logan froze. He looked up at Finn, whose eyes told him that this was what he had been about to say.

“Quoi?” Logan breathed. All the tension came right back into him. The fizzy, heavy quiet drained right out of his head.

“Lo,” Finn said, slightly warning.

It knocked him off balance, sitting back on his knees, but Finn reached out and grabbed his hand. His brown eyes were firm, clouded with racing thoughts and emotions. Relax. Think. Wait. Finn’s fingers squeezed around his own. Think. His thumbs made slow tracks across Logan’s knuckles. It’s okay. Think about him. Think about why.

Slowly, slowly, Logan pulled himself back towards Leo, who was watching him with exhausted blue eyes.

Logan let out a breath, he squeezed Finn’s hand then dropped it and combed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I…okay. Okay. Whatever you need, Soleil.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you play—”

“Shh,” Logan whispered. “Le. Leo. It’s not about me. I know I just—um. Freaked out for a second. I’m sorry. We’ve had enough of that this year, ouais?” He leaned down to kiss Leo’s temple. “Home is always good.”

Finn closed his eyes at that, tucking his nose into Leo’s hair. “He’s right, Le. I…he’s right.”

Leo’s first sob was quiet, just a hitch of his chest, but the second came out in a harsh breath. He turned his face towards Finn’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Logan felt Leo’s pain right in the center of his chest. “We love you. So much. Le…” Logan wrapped an arm around his back, and Leo reached out a hand to hold his.

“We do,” Finn whispered. “We’re right here.”

“Always,” Logan said. “And—Le, you played so well tonight.” Logan’s throat closed up and he had to pause before he could talk again. “And I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so talented and this year has been shit. It’s been absolute shit, Le.”

“I really—love you, I just—I need…” Leo gave up trying to talk, just pressed closer to Finn.

“You don’t have to explain,” Finn said soothingly. “We understand.”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. “I also would—would want Eloise’s chicken soup.” Logan wiped his eyes clear of tears so he could see Leo better. “Even with full spice.”

It startled a laugh out of Leo, crying and blocked-nosed as it was. “Full spice?”

“Ouais, I would. I swear it.”

“Me too,” Finn said. “It’d make me cry but me too.”

Outside it started to rain. A crack of thunder and the force of the drops doubled. Logan didn’t realize he’d hardly looked up until the second clap of thunder.

“The storm,” Leo said.

“Can’t hear it,” Logan replied.

Leo took a few breathes, then picked up his head from Finn’s chest and looked at him.

“Hi, pillow.”

Finn laughed softly. “Very happy to be of service.”

“Didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep at all.” Leo pressed a kiss to Finn’s chin and groaned a little as he pushed himself into a sitting position, like he hadn’t moved in ages. He let out a long breath, rubbing at his eyes.

“I love you guys, too,” Leo said. He reached out for Logan. “The ice…Seeing you on the ice…”

Logan shook his head. “I know.” He pushed himself up onto the couch when Leo made free the space on his other side. Finn sat up and slipped his sling back over his head to cradle his arm. He sat facing them criss-crossed and Leo touched his face. Finn kissed his palm.

“Did you guys eat after the game?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “Finn wanted to get me something but…I really just didn’t want anything.”

“You should have something,” Logan said, then he leaned forward for a quick kiss. “Wait.” This. This was something he could do. “Don’t move, either of you.”

Logan moved around in the yellow light of his kitchen with hard-fought for ease. He cracked eggs into a bowl. He poured a splash of milk in, the way Leo had taught him. In the pan, he kept the heat on low, turning the eggs slowly so their soft curl didn’t break. He turned the heat off while they were still just a little runny, slid them onto the toasts—which he had managed to time perfectly—to let them finish cooking while they melted in butter and a few passes of shaved cheddar. Four shakes of chili flakes. He went to the fridge and found the fresh mint that Leo had bought for him. He waited a moment for his kettle to boil, then clumped the mint into three mugs and poured the hot water over them. A little drizzle of honey in Leo’s, a big drizzle in his, none for Finn.

In the living room, Finn and Leo were dozing together. Outside, the sky lit up with lightning and both of their eyes opened. Leo held out his arm.

“You’re back.”

“Of course,” Logan said.

Leo looked over at Finn. “See?”

Finn shuffled Leo closer under his arm. “I do. I do.”

Logan braced himself, setting the tray of Leo’s eggs and the three teas down just in time for the thunder to make him flinch. Leo’s eyes were clearer now. He smiled when they saw the food.

“Aw, Lo…”

“It’s nothing like you can do,” he said. “But I love you.”

I love you, love you, love you.

He settled the plate on Leo’s lap and watched as he took a bite, humming as he chewed. He held out the toast for Finn. Another crack of thunder rang out, but Logan hardly heard. He was warm in one of those softly glowing apartments he’d seen from the street. The sun was going to rise soon and Leo and Finn were tucked close to him. Their faces were tear-streaked, noses still sniffling, and it wasn’t quite their summer. Not yet.

Outside it was raining and thundering, but inside it was beginning to feel to Logan like their storm was passing by.

#vaincre lumosinlove #coops #hockey au #finnlo #sunfish #lelo #o'knutzy

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starlightkun · 3 months

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➠ word count: 13.5k ➠ warnings: scenes of a child crying if you don’t want to read that (nightmares and stuff), also people are called mommy/daddy in this so if you can’t be normal abt that please skip this one ➠ genre: fluff, angst? but like around them in terms of life not within their relationship, established relationship, parents sungchan/reader, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), part of the buzzer beater series (after freezing the puck, or if you’ve only read buzzer beater & 27jsc, this should still make sense!) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i can’t believe we’re finally done omg. i miss them so much already 🤧 thank you so much to everybody who has followed along with this series! i wasn’t expecting this to be a whole series, nor for so many people to like this fic that i started when i was feeling super frustrated with my migraines. it was definitely something that was super personal and specific to me that i was blown away by how many of y’all liked it and told me you related. so thank you, again!! ➠ series masterlist

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Binnie, are you ready to go see Daddy?” You asked your son excitedly as you unbuckled his seatbelt, helping him out of the backseat and onto the parking lot pavement.

“Yeah!” He yelled out, the small sound echoing impressively in the open area. The five-year-old ran ecstatic circles around you as you walked calmly towards the university’s ice rink. “Mommy, am I skating with Daddy today?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him nicely after he’s done working,” you informed Woobin as he skidded to a half-skip half-walk next to you, grabbing your gloved hand with his.

Walking into the hockey rink that you knew like the back of your own hand at this point, you saw the Raptors still practicing, and guided your son into the bleachers so you two could watch. Woobin climbed up on the seat next to you, standing on it so he could actually see, and you offered a hand for him to keep himself balanced. He used it until he felt stable, then pushed it away insistently. A few of the players waved at you two, and you both waved back, your son as enthusiastic as ever when he got noticed, waving practically with his entire little body.

Sungchan was on the ice, directing two players with his back to you, and as he skated backward away from them for them to line up and continue practicing, he happened to glance over his shoulder and in your direction. You raised a casual hand in greeting, and he waved back. Woobin sent him a zealous, flying kiss with his whole arm, and Sungchan visibly laughed and immediately went to do it back. After the two players that he’d been instructing had presumably corrected the issue, your husband gave them both pats on the shoulder before skating over your way.

Woobin screamed out a “Hi Daddy!” so loud you were sure the entire campus could hear him, and every head on the ice turned around to look. You burst into laughter, rubbing his back fondly at his enthusiasm, and Sungchan covered his face as he chortled as well.

A few minutes later and Coach called practice, the players slowly starting to filter off the ice and into the locker room. You guided Woobin down through the bleachers towards the gate, where Sungchan was waiting for the two of you.

Your husband had already opened the gate to the ice, standing on the flooring just off it, where you and your son were walking. Woobin flung himself at his legs at full-speed, and Sungchan easily picked him up, beaming as he kissed his forehead.

“Hey, buddy!” Sungchan grinned, readjusting your son’s beanie.

“Hi, Daddy!” He chirped back, bouncing in his arms.

“Hi, hon,” he kissed your cheek, and you gave his a quick peck in greeting as well.

“Hey, Channie.” You slipped your arm around his back in a one-armed hug. “Little dude wants to ask you something.”

“Oh really?” Sungchan focused his inquisitive eyebrow raise at your son.

“Can I skate with you? Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?” Woobin immediately put on his best pout and puppy dog eyes, a display that always made you wonder how he wasn’t genetically Sungchan’s. The two of you had agreed some time ago that with your chronic migraines having a genetic component, you didn’t want to risk passing it down, and had looked into fostering initially. Woobin was your first placement at just a few days old, and he never left, the adoption going through right before his second birthday.

“Mr. Coach ended practice early, so we do have a few minutes,” your husband qualified his acquiescence.

“Yay!”

“You joining us, hon?”

“Sure.”

After fetching yours and your son’s skates from his office, Sungchan helped Woobin put his on, then double checked yours as always. Having married a former collegiate hockey player turned collegiate hockey coach, you’d gotten proficient enough at lacing up your own skates, but he wanted be sure every time that you weren’t going to twist your ankle, or have them come untied, or something else unfortunate.

Coach was still on the ice with the current goalie and center on one end, so you and your family kept to the other side. Woobin squealed and yipped with delight as Sungchan half-carried and half-pulled him around on the ice, you trailing behind with a fond smile on your lips as you watched on.

“Mr. Coach!” Woobin suddenly called to the other end of the rink.

“Oh, Binnie, Mr. Coach is working right now,” Sungchan tried to divert him. “We should leave him alone for now, buddy.”

“What was that, champ?” Coach’s gruff voice responded, the older man starting in your direction.

Woobin was absolutely thrilled to have his attention now, trying to pull Sungchan that way. “Mr. Coach! Mr. Coach!”

“I’m right here, kiddo,” he smoothly stopped right in front of your son. “I’m old but I’m not deaf yet. What do you want to tell me?”

“Mommy signed me up for my own hockey team today!” Woobin told him proudly. “Are you gonna be my coach too?”

“I don’t coach every hockey team in the world, you know.”

Woobin looked down at his skates dejectedly, as if he hadn’t considered this possibility before now.

“But… I did let your dad talk me into being his assistant coach for a certain little league team this season. Was that yours?” Coach asked teasingly, making the boy let out a loud gasp of realization.

“Was it, Daddy? Was it?” He looked up at your husband with wide eyes.

“Maybe…” Sungchan replied with a sly grin.

Woobin rounded on you, buzzing with excitement. “Did you hear that, Mommy? Mr. Coach is gonna be my coach!”

“I heard, buddy. Just like he was your Daddy’s coach,” you chuckled. Looking up at the older man, you added, “How does that make you feel, Coach? Teaching multiple generations?”

“Like my back is going to give out any day now,” he groaned and grabbed his lumbar. “Don’t remind me, Y/N, please.”

You laughed, making a motion of zipping up your lips and throwing away the key.

“Anyway, let me finish up with these two,” he gestured to the two Raptors still milling about on the other end of the ice. “Are you locking up, Jung?”

“Not today, got some errands to run before buddy’s naptime,” Sungchan explained.

“I’m five, I don’t need a nap anymore!” Woobin insisted.

“Hey, champ, look at me,” Coach requested, and waited until he had his attention before continuing. “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, like a hundred?”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, grabbing Sungchan’s arm for support as he at least had the decency to cover his mouth to hide his chuckles.

Coach nodded, not breaking eye contact with your son. “Exactly. I’m like a hundred, and I still take naps.”

“Really?”

“Really. You need them to make sure your brain—” he poked the boy’s forehead “—and your body—” he poked his belly, making him giggle “—are at their best. Especially a growing kid like you.”

“So why do you need them? If you’re not a kid anymore?”

“I’m saying you need them extra because you’re a kid. Grown-ups need them sometimes too.”

He pouted thoughtfully for a moment, then pointed up at you. “Mommy takes naps when she has a migraine. That’s when her head hurts really, really bad.”

“There you go. Told you they weren’t just for kids.” Coach stood up straight, cracking his back with a satisfied groan. “I’ll see you all later, okay?”

“Bye, Mr. Coach!” Woobin waved enthusiastically.

“See you Monday, Coach,” Sungchan nodded to him.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he shot you a wink over his shoulder before skating back over to his players, his voice immediately souring as he started barking out orders again.

With the excitement of his upcoming little league team on his mind, your son insisted on having Sungchan show him moves and maneuvers today. You were of course the default practice dummy both for Sungchan to demonstrate, and your son to practice. Which only worked so well since none of you had sticks or a puck or gear of any kind except for your skates, but Woobin was having fun, so you were happy.

Coach eventually finished with the guys at the other end, and as you saw him start off the ice first, you called out to him, “Done for the day, Coach?”

He turned back to you. “I wish! Got some paperwork to finish up in the office! If somebody’s bleeding—call 911, not me!”

You laughed, giving him a final wave as he headed off. About to turn to your family to suggest that you leave to do your errands as well, you spotted the two Raptors players still loitering by the goal, no longer practicing, and yet still not rushing to leave.

“You boys need something?” You asked them knowingly.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, Professor…” the goalie, who had been in your Intro to Literary Theory and Criticism class last spring, began.

“We were wondering if we could see if we could skate with the MVP too?” The center finished hopefully.

“Just for a little! We heard you telling Coach you guys had errands to run before his naptime!” His friend rushed to add.

Woobin’s focus had already started waning on his impromptu lesson from his dad, and as you looked over, you could see Sungchan beginning to wind down on his instructing as he realized this. You checked the time on your phone, then looked back to the two college boys. “Sure, you can ask Binnie if he wants to skate.”

They erupted into celebratory hoots, chest-bumping before practically tossing aside their unnecessary equipment. Suddenly realizing themselves, they collected themselves and turned to you, bowing their heads politely. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, boys,” you replied with humor in your voice, watching as they took off, seemingly racing each other to Sungchan and Woobin.

You could hear bits of their conversation from where you were leaning against the wall halfway down the rink, and watched fondly as your son’s face lit up with enthusiasm, then the Raptors players started pulling him down the ice with them, his delighted laughter bouncing around the rink.

Sungchan leisurely skated over and stopped in front of you. With a great flourish, he bowed and offered his hand out to you. You laughed, placing your hand atop his, and he dropped a kiss to the back of your gloved fingers. He stood up straight again, pulling you off the wall with little resistance from you, before taking both your hands and beginning to skate backwards in front of you, guiding you along with him. Neither of you chose to mention the fact that you knew how to skate just fine, playing along with the fun of the moment as he easily took you around the rink that you were sure he could navigate with his eyes closed at this point.

“Oh, do we have dishwasher pods on the list?” You suddenly asked as soon as the thought popped into your mind.

“We put it on there last night when we loaded the dishwasher and saw that we were almost out,” he reassured you, not even breaking stride.

“Right, thanks.” You smiled, giving his hands a squeeze.

“I also put dish soap on there this morning, by the way.”

“I love you.”

He slowed the two of you down on the far side of the rink, letting go of one of your hands to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer. “I love you too, baby.”

After doing a few things out and about, the three of you headed home.

“Hey, buddy,” Sungchan called for your son’s attention, his hands occupied with groceries. “Do you want me or Mommy to help you get ready for your nap? Or are you going to try to do it yourself?”

“Mm…” He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Mommy!”

“Alright, help with the groceries then I’ll help you, Binnie,” you bargained, putting a bag down on the ground in his reach.

As Woobin dutifully put the bags of chips and boxes of gummies on the lower shelves of the pantry that he could reach, you and Sungchan quickly put away the rest of the groceries. When there was just cleaning and other household supplies left, your husband grabbed those and nodded towards your son.

“Go put buddy down, I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Channie,” you pecked his cheek before turning to your child. “Lead the way!”

Woobin was able to get into his pajamas by himself, so you were really just there to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. You never bought into the “cry themselves out” mindset from the get-go, and to this day would sit with him until he fell asleep if he asked.

Except this time, he didn’t get into bed at all, standing next to the piece of furniture with you and staring at it like you were about to cliff dive instead of nap. He looked up at you, and you already saw his bottom lip quivering.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m right here, my sweet,” you promised, kneeling down in front of him so you were eye-to-eye. “What’s wrong?”

He threw his arms around your neck, taking quick, shallow breaths as he very bravely tried to communicate with you. “I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna…”

“Okay, I won’t make you right now,” you promised, rubbing his back. “Will you tell me what’s making you upset? Is it the nap? Going to sleep? Did you have a bad dream?”

But he had already devolved into incomprehensible sobs, and you bit your lip at the twinge in your chest. “Alright, sweet, how about we go to Mommy and Daddy’s room? Hm? And I’ll read you something. If you don’t want to nap, you don’t have to today, okay? Sound good?”

You could feel him nod into your shoulder, and that was all you needed to pick him up and settle him on your hip to carry him out of his room. As you passed by Sungchan putting away new bottles of dish soap and dishwasher pods under the sink, he gave you a concerned look. You mouthed a ‘later’ to him as you took your son across your house and into your room. As you passed by your bookshelf, you quickly selected a book, then sat down at the head of your bed, Woobin on your lap. Pulling your blanket up over you two, you let him get settled in and comfortable, still very much crying all the while.

Holding your book with one hand and resting the other on his back, you started reading. After a while, his sobs died down to hiccups, which petered out to just the occasional sniffle. But you could see that he was still awake, his eyes open and following your place as you read. Then, after a while longer, they started to slowly fall shut and his chin would tilt down, then he’d quickly open his eyes again and jerk his head up. Finally, he couldn’t fight the heaviness of his lids, and he fell asleep. You put your bookmark in where you were just before his eyes closed, but kept reading past that, just in case. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the door handle slowly turn, and your bedroom door inch open before Sungchan peered in.

Your husband pointed to the boy in your lap, then made a gesture of pretending to sleep on a pillow, lifting his eyebrows questioningly after. You nodded, still reading softly.

Sungchan slipped in the room, closing the door quietly behind him as well. Having come to a stopping place, you finally closed your book and set it aside on the one you already had on your nightstand.

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Getting married to a lit professor, you pick up a few things.” He then looked down at Woobin. “What happened?”

You sighed and readjusted slightly to hold him tighter now that you had two free arms. “I don’t know. He couldn’t tell me. As soon as he had to get into bed for his nap he just… broke down.”

A deep frown cut across Sungchan’s face as he stroked your son’s hair, but he said nothing else. He left the room, and you heard him moving around throughout the house as you picked up the other book from your nightstand. Eventually, he meandered back in, sitting on his side of the bed and setting up his laptop to quietly work beside you as your son continued napping on your lap and you continued your book. In addition to doing research at the university and being the assistant coach for the hockey team, Sungchan had picked up teaching a couple of Intro to Biology for majors sections, and you could see him answering emails from his students out of the corner of your eye. You were rereading the material for the Direct Study you were leading next semester.

Eventually, Woobin slowly started stirring, grumbling, yawning, and rubbing at his eyes before burying his face back in your chest with a sigh. You stroked his back, attention still on your book. He turned over in your arms when he finally decided that he was awake, blinking his eyes open and staring off into the middle distance.

“Hey, Binnie, you awake?” Sungchan asked quietly.

He nodded slowly, stretching his arms up, and you had to duck your head out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face by a stray hand.

“Sleep good?” Your husband kept talking to him.

He nodded again, letting out another adorable little yawn.

“Of course you did,” Sungchan chuckled, gently pinching the tip of his nose. “You got the best seat in the house right there, bud.”

Woobin made grabby hands at Sungchan, and he moved his laptop to the side to transfer him from your lap to his, pressing a kiss to his forehead once he was settled in against his chest.

“Uncle Chenle is going to be over soon,” you reminded your son of your plans for the night. “Are you excited?”

He perked up at this. “Yeah! He said he was gonna bring me back a souvenir!”

“He does love to spoil you,” Sungchan shook his head, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As Woobin busied himself with his toys in his room, the horrors of naptime all but forgotten, you and Sungchan were having a fervent, whispered conversation in your bedroom.

“Should we even go tonight?” You asked, pulling your outfit on.

“I know, I’m worried about bedtime…” Sungchan sighed, nevertheless assisting you with your zipper.

“Chenle’s really good with him, and you know how much he dotes on Woobin.” You paused in front of the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles. You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or your husband at this point.

“I know, I don’t doubt how much he loves our kid, or how much buddy loves him,” he replied, fidgeting with his tie behind you. “I just… would hate to not be there.”

“Me too,” you replied quietly, turning around to fix his tie yourself. “I can practically feel the stress migraine coming on thinking about it.”

“Okay, well don’t do that, baby,” Sungchan insisted, resting his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I mean, that didn’t happen at bedtime yesterday, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” you agreed. “Or naptime yesterday…”

“Who’s to say it’ll happen at bedtime today?” He suggested. “Might’ve been a one-time thing. Or only for naps.”

“Right.” You breathed out, having finished with his tie, and now looked up at him questioningly. “So we’re going?”

“Seems like it.”

“We should still give Chenle a heads-up.”

“Of course.”

Chenle pulled up in his sleek luxury car soon after, and you made sure to greet him at the door while Sungchan helped Woobin put his toys up.

“Whew! Look at you!” Chenle whistled as he pulled back from hugging you, grabbing your hand and twirling you around. “MILF! MILF! MILF!”

You laughed, shaking him off. “Quiet! You’re a menace, I swear. You better be filtering around my child.”

“Of course, of course.” He held his hands up in surrender, and you saw that one held a gift bag. A rather large gift bag.

“And what did you bring him this time? Milan, was it?”

“A model of the Arco della Pace for us to build together, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” You shook your head fondly, but couldn’t stop the worry from overtaking your mood. “Chenle, I do have to tell you something.”

Your friend immediately matched your change in mood, furrowing his brow with concern. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“When I was trying to put Binnie down for his nap today, he couldn’t get into his bed. He couldn’t tell me what was wrong, he just started crying and saying he didn’t want to. He had to take his nap in our room with the two of us. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I wanted to give you a heads up, in case it happens again at bedtime, since I know you always say he’s really good for you. If it does, just call and we’ll come right back, okay? Don’t feel bad at all, it’s not your fault.”

Chenle listened carefully and nodded thoughtfully as you explained the situation to him. “Okay, yeah. Are you two sure you even want to go? We can all have a really fun hangout with Uncle Chenle and then I can peace before bedtime if that’s what needs to happen tonight.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, but ultimately shook your head. “We told Ten we were going to be there. I’d like to at least try to see him accept the award.”

“Of course.” Chenle patted his chest. “I won’t take it personally if he starts crying for Mommy at bedtime tonight.”

“When you put it like that I really don’t want to go.”

“Go,” he insisted. “We’ll be fine.”

“Uncle Chenle!” A delighted squeal came as your son ran in, wrapping himself around Chenle’s legs like a koala.

“Hey, Binnie!” Your friend beamed down at him, squeezing his cheeks in one hand. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” His words were a little garbled as Chenle smushed his face.

“Hey, Chenle,” Sungchan greeted him as well, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by to get to your side.

“Hey, Sungchan!”

“Are you ready to go, hon?” Your husband asked you as the other two started an enthusiastic guessing game of what Chenle brought Woobin back as a souvenir from Milan.

“Yeah.” You nodded. Raising your voice slightly to address the others, you announced, “Alright, guys, we’re heading out. Binnie, Daddy and I will be back after you’re asleep, okay?”

“Goodbye and goodnight!” He darted over as you and Sungchan knelt down to each give him a hug, and two more kisses—one for goodbye, and another for his goodnight kiss, since you wouldn’t be putting him to bed. Really, when you came home, you two always checked on him and gave him one last peck goodnight then, but he of course didn’t know that.

The award for Literary Theory Journal Editor of the Year had barely been placed in Ten’s hands when you saw Sungchan’s phone light up in his lap out of the corner of your eye. He squeezed your shoulder in a silent ‘be right back’ before standing from your table and quietly slipping out of the ballroom. You kept your eyes on Ten as he gave a short and charismatic acceptance speech, clapping when everyone else did, though you stayed keenly aware of the empty seat next to you. Your friend got his picture taken and shook lots of hands on his way back to your table, and your colleagues at your table all rose to greet him when he finally returned.

“Congrats, Ten,” you hugged him, your eyes straying over his shoulder to the door that Sungchan had left through.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he patted your back, pulling away still with a wide grin. “I saw Sungchan get up, is everything alright?”

You waved off his concerns for now. “Chenle probably set off the smoke alarm or something.”

Sungchan returned just a moment later, staving off his clearly concerned face for long enough to give Ten his congrats as well.

“You missed my hilarious acceptance speech, Sungchan,” Ten clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Damn, maybe next year.”

“Ooh, you think I’ll win next year too?”

“Why not?” Sungchan shrugged. “I don’t know how all the other editors could suddenly get better than you in a year.”

“Great point.”

The awards had continued, and everyone took their seats, though your focus was only on Sungchan and whatever that call was about. He leaned over to inform you quietly, “That was Chenle. SOS for buddy’s bedtime, sounds like the same as naptime.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’ll get the car,” he murmured before giving your shoulder a fleeting touch and leaving your table.

You turned to Ten to give him a real reason behind your sudden departure. “Hey, that was Chenle, and Woobin is—”

“It’s all good,” your friend cut you off with a smile, patting your arm. “Go be good parents, you’ve already been good friends. Promise.”

“Thanks.” You could feel the relieved smile on your face. “Congrats again, Ten.”

After giving your hushed goodbyes to the rest of your colleagues, you hurried out of the ballroom. Sungchan didn’t complain about the anxious death grip you had on his hand the entire ride home, simply smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as the fingers of his other hand tapped out impatient rhythms on the steering wheel at every red light you got stuck at.

Finally, you arrived home, and you didn’t even have to go searching for Woobin and Chenle, as you were barely in your foyer and Sungchan hadn’t even had the chance to finish locking the front door behind him when a small form came running in, barreling into your legs. Chenle was a few steps behind your son, entering right after him. Woobin was blubbering and sobbing against you, beyond the point of any sort of intelligible speech. You sighed forlornly and rested a hand on his head, feeling your heart break as you looked down at him, not knowing how to help him.

Sungchan immediately took your purse from your other hand, rubbing your back briefly as he passed by. As he and Chenle went to talk in the living room, you hooked your hands under your son’s arms and heaved him up onto your hip, carrying him into your room with you. You maneuvered to support him with one arm so you could take off your shoes with the other hand, tossing them in the vague direction of your closet door. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you readjusted him so that he was sitting in your lap, crying into your neck, and you gently stroked the back of his head as he shook in your arms.

“I’m right here, Binnie. I’ve got you. Mommy’s right here,” you told him softly, a hard lump growing in your throat. “You’re okay, my sweet. You’re okay. I promise, I’ve got you.”

Eventually, you heard Chenle and Sungchan’s hushed voices pass by, then the front door open and close. A couple minutes later, there was a soft knocking at your bedroom door.

“Hey, that’s Daddy,” you informed Woobin. “Is it okay if he comes in and stays with us too?”

Woobin nodded from where his face was still hidden in your neck. His sobs hadn’t stopped, and at this rate, you were worried he was going to make himself throw up with how much he was crying and hiccupping.

“Come in,” you called out.

Sungchan had already discarded his suit jacket and tie elsewhere, you realized as he slipped into the room. A pained look quickly took over his features as his eyes immediately found the two of you. He set the no-spill cup he’d brought in with him—Woobin’s favorite cartoon characters printed all around the outside—down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you.

“Hey, buddy, it’s me,” Sungchan said quietly. “I brought some water; I thought your throat might be hurting a little.”

You son let out a couple sniffles, as if contemplating this for the first time.

Your husband continued, “Do you think you can sit with me and drink some water while Mommy changes into her jammies?”

“I won’t leave the room, sweet,” you assured him. “I’ll be right here with you and Daddy.”

In lieu of a verbal response, he nodded again and loosened the vice-like grip he’d had around your neck, letting you shift him over into his dad’s arms. Before you could go run and do the fastest change of your life, Sungchan grabbed your hand, pulling you around to look at him. As you gazed down at him, with Woobin bawling inconsolably in his lap, the two of you exchanged a brief, unspoken moment of uncertainty, unknowing, of knowing that neither of you knew what to do for your son. Your hand was shaking—or maybe that was his—as you clutched each other tightly for just a second.

Then you had to let go of him to rush to change, and Sungchan tried to gently coax Woobin into taking a sip of water. You could hear him coaching your son through taking just one little sip at a time and not chugging, or he’d make himself sick. You, meanwhile, were throwing clothes into the general vicinity of where they needed to go as you pulled on new ones. The nice material now had snot and spit all over them, you were sure they’d need to be dry-cleaned anyway, so you didn’t care about the wrinkles they’d garner from being crumpled up on the floor for the night. You then rushed through taking out your hair and brushing your teeth, keeping the en suite bathroom door open all the while.

Back over with your husband and son, you saw that the task of sipping water had forced his crying to slow down considerably, and you took a deep breath to not pass on your stress back to your child. The last thing you needed to do was get him going again just because you were so worried. He also had his favorite stuffed animal tucked under his other arm, the only one that had survived from his infancy to now, a deer plushie. You didn’t even remember seeing Sungchan bring that in with him, your brain was so scrambled.

“Here, Binnie, Mommy’s back. I feel left out, I’m not the only one not in my jammies,” Sungchan joked, which didn’t even earn a giggle from your child as it normally would’ve. “You want to go back to Mommy and I’ll get changed?”

Woobin nodded, and Sungchan let you get into a more comfortable position up by the headboard before depositing your son into your arms. You could at least see some of his face from the new angle of him sitting sideways in your lap, and it was of course red, puffy, and covered in tears. Sungchan must have already cleaned up some of his snot, as you spotted several discarded tissues on the nightstand.

“Did Puck come to make sure you were okay, too?” You asked quietly, gently tapping one of the plushie’s soft antlers. Puck the Buck, as he had been so brilliantly named some time ago.

Another nod and a sniffle.

“That was nice of him.” You stroked the deer’s head. “Thank you, Puck.”

Woobin patted the deer’s head, too, and as you watched more tears fall down his cheeks, you pressed a long kiss to his hair, silently apologizing for not knowing how to fix it all right now. Sungchan came back from the bathroom just a moment later, scooting onto the bed from the other side.

“Okay, Binnie. What do you think? Do you want to watch an episode of your show?” He suggested. “Or Mommy can finish reading you Bisclavret? Or…”

As he tried to think of other options, you gave him a bewildered look over your son’s head at the fact that he apparently knew which Breton lai you were reading earlier. That was something to address later, though.

Woobin shook his head, though.

“No?” Sungchan said questioningly. “No to what? Do you want Mommy to read?”

Head shake.

“Do you want to watch an episode of your show?”

Head nod.

And so you, Woobin, Puck, and Sungchan all settled in under your covers to watch an episode of his favorite cartoon. Except you and Sungchan didn’t have a TV in your bedroom, and both of your laptops were charging across the house in your home office, so you all had to scoot in close to be able to see it on the much smaller screen of Sungchan’s phone. Puck took up a considerable amount of space when crowding around a phone to watch something, and from your vantage point mostly behind your son and the plushie, you couldn’t see a thing past the deer head and antlers, but you didn’t really care about catching up on the children’s cartoon. You were much more preoccupied with listening for Woobin’s sniffles to cease, and watching as his breathing evened out. He was still awake after one episode, but quiet, calm, and Sungchan went ahead and played the next one.

You gently rubbed his back, smiling to yourself when you heard his first yawn of the night. When his second came before the five-minute mark, you knew he wouldn’t last the whole episode. And sure enough, he was out before the halfway point. Sungchan turned his phone off and set it aside. The two of you were curled up on either side of your son, with Sungchan facing him and you.

Your husband reached a hand up, and you thought he was going to stroke Woobin’s hair, but he kept going and gently wiped a thumb under your eye instead, at the fresh tears that had just brimmed there. You placed your hand over his, turning your head just enough to leave a kiss on his palm.

You woke up early in the morning with a stress migraine. When you shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the stove clock read 3:03. You quickly chugged your first glass of water, then refilled it to take back with you. Walking through to your bathroom, you retrieved your bottle of rescue medication from your drawer. This one was a muscle relaxer, so you didn’t see any point in keeping it in your purse, as you weren’t able to drive after taking it, which you typically needed to do when you were out and about. You knocked back a tablet before screwing the lid back on and putting it away again. After taking a few more sips of your water, you slipped back under the covers with your family.

Your head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, but you still blearily opened one eye to look at your son, watching as his chest rose and fell peacefully. He was on his back now, and you couldn’t help but lay a hand on his front, feeling his even breaths under your palm. Sungchan’s foot tapped yours under the blanket briefly as he readjusted in his sleep, and you smiled to yourself. And then it happened again, and you peered over to the other pillow suspiciously.

In the low light, you could see Sungchan looking right at you. He pointed to his own head, then raised his eyebrows.

You lifted your hand in a ‘meh’ gesture, then held up 5 fingers to rate it out of 10, before setting your hand back down on Woobin’s front. Sungchan found your arm under the covers, gently squeezing your forearm. You tapped his foot in return, a silent exchange, before closing your eyes and settling back in to sleep.

Two hushed voices woke you up for the second time that morning. Well, one hushed voice, and one who hadn’t quite mastered whispering yet.

“What do you think Mommy—”

“Quiet, buddy, remember?” Sungchan’s words were barely discernible from behind the closed bathroom door. “Your mom’s got a migraine, and—”

“—and Mommy needs to sleep when she’s got a migraine,” Woobin finished dutifully, his voice a notch quieter than before. “So her head feels better.”

“That’s right, bud. Now come on, breakfast.”

“That’s what I—” Your son stopped himself as his voice raised with his excitement. He continued, in his best half-whisper, “Sorry, Daddy. I know: We gotta whisper. Quiet. I was asking what Mommy wants for breakfast?”

The two of them were quiet, and you heard the bathroom door open, then one pair of feet quietly tread across your room to open the bedroom, then shut it softly. You could hear their voices slowly fade as they walked further away.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“Because you always bring me breakfast in bed when I’m sick!” Woobin’s voice was back to it’s normal volume as he tried to emphatically get his point across to his dad. Sungchan must have gestured for him to quiet down again, as he dropped down to a part-whisper once more, “It’s Mommy’s turn.”

“You’re right. Let’s see what we can make…”

When you first got Woobin, you only got a migraine a couple times a year, a significant drop from when you were first diagnosed. The frequency fluctuated over the years and seasons, though, and there was a short period of time after becoming new parents, that you had been getting them weekly. You knew that put a strain on Sungchan, since a spouse with noise-sensitive migraines and a crying baby didn’t exactly mix. You of course would go through any migraine pain to take care of your son, but your husband couldn’t stand seeing you do it if it could be avoided. After some medication changes, you were fairly consistent with one every other month now. When Woobin was a toddler, and couldn’t quite grasp the concept of needing to play quietly when he wasn’t napping, Sungchan would take him on “field trips” while you rested. You’d decided to give him a simple explanation of a migraine to him when he was a little older, so he could easier differentiate between the migraines that you got, and when he might have a headache from a cold, or because his body was telling him he needed to drink some more water. He was also now your designated band-aid picker for your monthly injection, and had a better grasp on when, why, and how to keep quiet when you needed it.

Your head unfortunately still hurt, though your heart was warmed by your kind-hearted kid. There were lots of times where you and Sungchan felt like you had no clue what you were doing—like your current predicament with bedtime—but you figured you were doing a pretty alright job overall.

You contemplated getting up to take another dose. The only plans you had for today were a family trip to the park and some chores at home. Your husband would probably insist on you skipping the park for today, but if the second dose worked, you could probably get some things done around the house at least. Unfortunately, your days of laying in bed all day when you had a low-level migraine were long gone. If you could open your eyes, you usually had something that needed to get done.

But for this morning, at least, for now, you could close your eyes for just a little longer. You rolled over, away from the window where a thin strip of light had gotten in through a gap between your blackout curtains that Sungchan must have pulled closed.

You didn’t quite go back to sleep, but you dozed somewhere in between as you fondly listened to the sounds of Sungchan and Woobin trying to make breakfast as silently as possible. The running of the sink, sizzling of something on the stove, beep of the microwave before it was hastily shut off, fridge opening and closing, Sungchan’s quiet murmured directions to Woobin, and your son’s inquisitive tone in return.

Eventually, you heard someone shuffling up to your bedroom door, sounding much too small to be your husband. The door very slowly creaked open, and he tiptoed over to your side of the bed.

“Mommy?” His whisper had gotten better over the morning, though it didn’t matter much, since he was definitely right in front of your face.

You cracked open one eye, and offered him a soft smile. “Morning, buddy.”

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m awake,” you chuckled, propping yourself up on one elbow and rubbing your eyes.

“Daddy and I made you breakfast, hold on!” And he darted back out of the room.

You looked at the empty doorway fondly, slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed. Sungchan and Woobin reappeared a moment later with a tray filled with various breakfast foods.

“Morning, beautiful,” Sungchan greeted you quietly, pecking the crown of your head as he went to set the tray down in your lap.

“Mm, morning, Channie,” you kissed his cheek before he could stand all the way back up. “This looks wonderful, thank you guys.”

In one corner of the tray you spotted a colorful assortment of pills, all of your morning doses plus what looked like a couple of your acute medications from your purse that was definitely in the dining room. You grabbed your water from the nightstand to get that out of the way first.

“We’ll let you eat in peace,” Sungchan declared, patting your son on the head to start to usher him out.

“No, it’s okay,” you stopped them. “It’s not so bad. I want you two to eat with me.”

Woobin’s face lit up, and he wasted no time in clambering up on the bed with you. You held the tray steady as he wedged himself in next to you.

“Alright, I’ll go get mine and buddy’s plates.”

Woobin was still earnestly pointing out each piece of food on your tray to you, explaining exactly how he had helped Sungchan prepare all of it when your husband returned. Sungchan sat down in front of you, and as he handed your son his plate, you noticed that there was nothing on it that could make too much of a mess if it happened to capsize.

“Sounds like you were a big help,” you praised your son, stroking the back of his head.

“He was,” Sungchan agreed. “Breakfast in bed was his idea.”

“Really?” You feigned surprise as Woobin nodded proudly. They didn’t need to know that you’d heard their entire bathroom conversation. “Thank you, sweet, it was a very good idea.”

After a very quiet breakfast, Sungchan took the plates into the kitchen, and you started making your mental list of tasks for the day. No vacuum—you weren’t a masochist—but there was laundry to do, and if Sungchan started the dishwasher before he left, it would be done and ready to put away before they got back from the park.

Just as you had put your feet over the edge of the bed to get up, with the bathroom as your destination, you were caught off-guard by Woobin trudging into your room with an armful of toys. He dropped them onto your mattress before hauling himself up after them.

“Hey…” You greeted him with an air of question. “What are you doing, Binnie?”

Sungchan must have spotted him on his way over, as he poked his head in right then, already laser-focused on your son. “What’s all this, bud?”

“We can’t go to the park,” he said matter-of-factly, beginning to sort out the toys that had gotten all mixed up in being carried over and dumped into a pile. “I’ll be quiet, promise!”

“I didn’t say we weren’t going at all,” Sungchan clarified. “I just said Mommy needed to stay home this time, because she’s not feeling well. You and I are still going. Minha and her dad are going to be there too.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t like the park,” he declared, a stern pout creasing his face.

“What? You don’t like the park?” You asked.

“No,” he mumbled. “I hate it.”

You exchanged bewildered looks with Sungchan at this sudden development. Deciding to try again, you said calmly, “Binnie, I’ll go with you next time, okay? I promise. You have lots of fun at the park.”

“No. I don’t want to go.”

“Okay, no park,” Sungchan acquiesced. “But it’s such a nice day out, I think a walk sounds good. What do you think?”

“No.” He crossed his arms.

“Ah, you know, my head feels good enough for a walk,” you said brightly. “I think I’d like to go on a walk. Are you sure you don’t want to go, buddy?”

“Well… okay.”

“Alright,” you beamed at him, patting his cheek as he finally looked up at you. “Mommy’s got to shower then I’ll be ready to go.”

“How about you get out of your jammies too, Woobin?” Sungchan suggested.

“Go ahead, sweet,” you sent him off with one more pat.

Your son wordlessly got off the bed and left your room. As soon as he was gone, you look at Sungchan, utterly at a loss.

“What was that?” He whispered, following you into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you two.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“He loves the park! I mean, he loves going to the grocery store! He’s one of the most go-with-the-flow kids I’ve ever met!”

“He was obviously lying about hating the park. But why? His best friend’s going to be there, he’s been talking about it since we planned it at pickup on Friday.”

“You think it’s related to what’s been going with bedtime and naptime?” Sungchan paced in front of you. “I mean, what if it’s like separation anxiety? Or something?”

“But he loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

“He even went through that phase when he was a year old where he wouldn’t let me put him to sleep, it had to be you every time.”

“I know, I know.” He held his hands up. “I’m just saying… we might have hit a new phase.”

“But I could at least take him to the park without you. And he went to daycare. Now…”

“Hey, tomorrow, I’ll drop him off at school,” Sungchan said. “You know, so it’ll be gradual. The two of us at home, then just me, then he’s at school.”

“Channie, he wouldn’t let you take him to the park today.”

“I just think that if your choice is between leaving him crying at VPK or not, you’re going to be getting a new little TA in your classes tomorrow.”

You chewed on your bottom lip before sighing and nodding. “You’re right, you’re right. Okay, we’ll try your way tomorrow.”

“We’ll figure this out, hon,” he reassured you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. “But not right now in our bathroom while you’ve got a migraine.”

You hugged him back, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just worry about today right now.”

After your shower, you got dressed in peace and meandered out of your room to find Sungchan and Woobin by the front door. Woobin hadn’t quite mastered shoelaces, so your husband was helping him out. You slipped your own shoes on, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses on the table by the front door.

“Alright, ready?” Sungchan asked, having finished with your son’s shoes.

“Ready!” Binnie chirped.

You offered a thumbs-up, silently reaching to unlock your front door. Woobin went out first, eagerly bounding down the steps of your front porch. You followed after him onto the sidewalk as you listened to Sungchan lock up behind you, then catch up to the two of you with just a few large strides. The sun outside was painfully bright, even with your sunglasses on, and as you held up one hand to cast a shadow over your eyes, you reached your other out to grab Sungchan’s hand. He held yours firmly, even as you squinted and winced against the light, nearly missing a step when you walked in a brighter patch between shadows of trees, keeping you upright and on the paved path.

Woobin was just a couple steps in front of you, seemingly having a great time. He was talking to himself, interspersed with some singing, and of course pointing out anything he found remotely interesting to the both of you.

“Snail!” He yelled out enthusiastically, pointing to said small creature on the ground.

“Cool, buddy,” Sungchan responded encouragingly.

“Worm!”

“I see. Careful, we don’t want to step on him. He’s using the sidewalk too.”

That made Woobin giggle, giving the worm a wide berth as he stepped around it. You stepped over it.

The boy suddenly gasped, and stopped in his tracks as he pointed to a flower in one of your neighbors’ gardens. “Butterfly! Mommy, do you see it?”

You squinted in the direction he was pointing, finally seeing which one he was indicating. A dark butterfly on a bright yellow flower. “Yeah, Binnie, I see it. That’s a swallowtail butterfly.”

“Swallowtail butterfly,” he repeated, slowly to make sure he was pronouncing it right.

“That’s right.” You patted his head with your free hand.

“What other kinds of butterflies are there?” He asked as you continued your walk.

“Oh, lots,” you mused. “Your dad might know a butterfly expert, you know.”

He looked up at Sungchan with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, Dr. Hwang, one of my co-workers, she’s an entomologist.”

Your son furrowed his brows in concentration. “Entee— enah— innamolologiss.”

“Come on, let’s sound it out, bud: En,” Sungchan talked him through it. Despite his earlier teasing of you reading Breton lai to your son, your husband was just as much to blame for Woobin’s inflated vocabulary, always taking the time to teach him lengthy scientific terms for things.

“En.”

“Tah.”

“Mol.”

“Oh.”

“Gist.”

“Entah.”

“Molo.”

“Gist.”

“Entomologist.”

“Enamolgist.”

“Yeah!” Your husband beamed, holding up his hand for a high five.

“What’s an enamolgist?” Woobin asked.

“A scientist that studies bugs. Like butterflies.”

“Butterflies aren’t bugs!” He insisted.

“They are.”

“But how can they be bugs? They’re butterflies!”

Sungchan laughed. “When you meet Dr. Hwang, you can ask her and she’ll explain it. She can also tell you all about all sorts of butterflies. Okay?”

“Your dad studies fish, remember?” You added. “Way different than bugs and butterflies.”

“And you study books!” Woobin said. “And stories! And reading! And writing!”

“That’s right.” You chuckled fondly. “Way, way different than bugs or butterflies or fish.”

By the time you got back to your house, you could barely open one eye enough to navigate the steps and get through the front door. It felt like you were being stabbed in your left eye, the pain shooting back through the entire left side of your head, and you patted Sungchan’s arm before wordlessly heading off towards your room. You beelined for your bathroom, knocking back another dose of the rescue medication you had in there.

As you clutched your eye with one hand and gripped the bathroom counter tightly with the other, the door was pushed ajar. You quickly went to drop your hand and throw on a smile, then saw it was Sungchan, who put another tablet into your hand, your second rescue medication in the dining room.

“Thanks, baby,” you mumbled, taking that one as well.

He sighed, but said nothing else as he rested a hand on your back. You covered both of your eyes as you turned into his chest, feeling when your fingers quickly turned moist. You took deep, shaking, quiet breaths. One of Sungchan’s hands cradled the back of your head while the other slowly rubbed up and down your back.

“Eye mask?” He murmured, referring to the cooling eye mask you kept in the fridge to help with migraine pain. It could also be microwaved if you wanted it warm instead.

“What’s Binnie doing?” You sniffed.

“Picking a movie for me and him. You’re going to lay down. Do you want your eye mask?”

“Yes, please.”

And so Sungchan grabbed the mask from the fridge for you as you crawled back into bed, handing you your earplugs from your nightstand drawer first.

You tried to refuse, eyes drifting towards your bedroom door. “No, but—”

“I’ve got him, hon.” He opened the case and pushed the earplugs into your hand. “You’ve done plenty, Supermom. Okay?”

You nodded slowly, pushing the earplugs in one at a time. He helped you adjust the eye mask, then pulled the covers up over you. You felt as he stood up from the bed and gave one final pat to your arm.

You woke up to find that the medication and nap had taken the edge off the migraine, at least. There was still a dull ache in your head, and you felt like shit, but it wasn’t the worst that you’d ever felt. You pulled the room-temperature mask off your face and set it on your nightstand before rolling over, fully intending on burying your face in your pillow and going back to sleep if you could.

You weren’t expecting to see Sungchan lying next to you on top of the covers, hand tucked under his cheek. His eyes were open, watching you.

“Hi, Channie,” you said quietly, taking your earplugs out and setting those aside as well.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice barely above a murmur.

“I’m alright. Still hurts, but not as bad,” you replied, reaching a hand out towards him. He grasped it, gentle but steadfast. “Where’s Binnie? Down for his nap?”

“Snacktime. I called in backup, though, my dad’s here.”

“I’m—” You stopped yourself before you could apologize, biting down on your lip before mustering up a smile. “Thank you. For taking care of me and buddy today. More than you usually do.”

“I wish I could’ve done more for you, baby,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You were making sure our son was okay. He can’t use the microwave, I can manage my ten-thousandth migraine on my own.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted. “You’ve been Superdad and Superhusband today. So relax, okay?”

“Alright.”

“How long is your dad staying?”

“He brought ingredients to make dinner. My mom’s coming when she gets off her shift.”

You smiled fondly at your in-laws’ kindness, and lifted the blankets up. “Five more minutes?”

Sungchan joined you under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. You held him close, savoring his familiar warmth and the comforting pressure of him laying practically on top of you. You curled your fingers in his hair, resting your cheek against the crown of his head.

“Ten,” he mumbled against your skin. “Ten more minutes.”

“Hey Professor, mind if we hang out in here?” A familiar pair of heads had poked into your office, two freshmen Raptors players who definitely weren’t in any of your classes this semester.

“Is there somewhere you should be?” You asked, gesturing to the couch across from you nevertheless. It made no difference to you if two adults decided to skip their college classes, you were more-so just curious. “It’s a bit early to be getting to campus if you don’t have a class…”

“Well, we usually have Coach Jung’s class right now, but he just sent out an email cancelling,” the left wing explained, dropping into one corner as his friend splayed out across the remaining two-thirds.

“And our next class is in this building, so we thought we’d see if you were in,” the right wing finished.

“What class do you have in this building?” You tried to keep a casual tone as you checked your phone for any missed calls or text from Sungchan that would clue you into why he’s suddenly missed his class this morning.

As they proceeded to rant about the 2000-level Grammar class they had signed up for in order to fulfill their Gen Ed requirements, mistakenly thinking it would be easy since it was only a 2000-level, you sent a quick text to your husband.

[you: just checking in. did drop-off go okay?]

Woobin once again slept in yours and Sungchan’s room last night, and though he was a little confused at his dad taking him to school today since you usually dropped him off on Mondays, there was no meltdown when you gave him his goodbye kiss. So far so good, until now.

“What classes are you teaching in the fall, Professor?” The left wing asked you.

“Oh, uh, I’ve got Lit Theory, Direct Study, and I’m teaching a Special Topics section in Contemporary Short Stories. We’ll mostly be focusing on magical realism, surrealism, that sort of thing,” you started rambling, still half-focused on your dark phone screen, waiting for it to light up with Sungchan’s reply. “I know neither of you are Lang majors, but it’s my first Special Topics class and I enjoyed having both of you last semester, so if you have a free slot in the fall, I’d appreciate it if you considered enrolling.”

“Hell yeah, that sounds cool,” the right wing grinned. “Is it going to be like, a bunch of essays, though?”

“There will be a final paper, but it will be mostly Socratic discussion, and the occasional short, one-page synthesis assignment,” you clarified. “No tests, no quizzes. As long as you read and participate enthusiastically, you’ll pass.”

“We’ll be there!” The left wing promised. “We loved your intro class. You’re like, one of the coolest professors ever, that’s why we asked.”

“I’m honored, boys, thanks,” you laughed.

“Coach Jung is cool too,” said the right wing, then he exchanged a mischievous grin with his friend. “But you’re cooler.”

“Oh, I’ve known that for quite some time, I assure you.”

“How long have you two been together?” The left wing asked curiously.

You twisted your wedding ring contemplatively. “Let’s see… We’ve been married for seven years, we started dating our senior year of undergrad, so… fifteen years? Yeah, it’ll be fifteen years this fall.”

“Wow. I didn’t even think you were that old.”

“What? Fifteen?” You chuckled, eyes straying to the picture on your desk of you, Sungchan, and Woobin from the party you held to celebrate his adoption being finalized.

“I mean, like, old enough to have been in college fifteen years ago.”

“Surprise.”

“So you met in senior year—”

“No,” you shook your head. “That’s when we started dating. We met freshman year. First day of classes, actually, if I’m remembering correctly. In one of Dr. Son’s classes, so that tells you how long he’s been teaching.”

“Wow, he needs to retire,” the right wing snorted. “And I mean that with his best intentions at heart.”

“Why are you two so interested in me and Coach Jung all of a sudden?” You questioned, tilting your head and folding your hands over your lap.

“Well, we see you and Coach Jung and our MVP all the time but, you know, we don’t know a lot about you, outside your jobs,” the left wing shrugged. “You two seem cool, you know?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Where are you guys from?”

As they informed you that they were both from the same small town about five hours away, you nodded in understanding. Freshmen that hadn’t seen their parents since the holidays, a break that was only made even shorter by their being on the hockey team.

“You two are more than welcome to pop into my office whenever you happen to see me in here,” you reassured them. “And talk to me about whatever you want.”

By the time the players had left to go to class, you still hadn’t heard back from Sungchan, and you had your own class to teach. It was your Direct Study, which usually met in your office anyway since it was just two students. The conversation in this one was student-led, so as they evaluated what they thought the developing themes in the book were, bouncing ideas off each other, you tried to listen and engage earnestly, even as you stayed painfully aware of the lack of response from your husband.

You never forced them to stay for the entire block of time allotted for the class if the conversation didn’t need it, so when they were about done only forty-five minutes into the hour and a half block, you gave them the next chunk of the reading to do before next week, and bid them farewell. Then immediately left your office.

The Science building was across from the Lang building, and you headed for Sungchan's office first. If he was teaching a class right now, you knew it would be an Intro class and, therefore, most likely in one of the large lecture halls on the first floor, but you weren’t going to interrupt his lecture because he hadn’t replied to your message. You just wanted to check to see if he'd made it to campus yet. His office was on the second floor, past some of the teaching laboratories.

When you tested the door handle, you found it unlocked, and pushed it open. His desk lamp was on, illuminating the pictures he had there: one from your wedding day, another of the three of you from a hockey game, decked out in blue and orange Raptors gear, and a third of just you and Woobin from when he was a baby, the exact occasion you couldn’t pin down. He wasn’t in the office, but his backpack was on his desk chair, so he had at least made it to campus.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you looked to see that it was Sungchan calling.

“Hey, Channie,” you answered.

“Hi, hon,” he sounded a little out of breath. “Where are you?”

“Uhm, I’m actually at your office. I got worried…” You admitted.

“Oh, okay. We went to your office but couldn’t find you. Stay put, we’ll come to you.”

“Okay—Wait, ‘we?’”

“Yeah, uh, buddy’s with me,” he sighed shortly. “We'll be there in just a sec, okay? Bye, love you.”

And he hung up.

When Sungchan’s office door opened a few minutes later, Woobin was, in fact, the first thing that came through, immediately running to wrap his arms around your legs. Sungchan stepped through the door a moment later, looking disheveled as he took your son’s small backpack off his shoulder and put it on one of the chairs across from his desk.

“Hey, Binnie,” you greeted your son brightly, despite your alarm and confusion, hugging him back tightly. The harrowed look on Sungchan’s face was enough to let you know that this was something for you two to talk about later.

“Mommy!” Woobin was practically buzzing with excitement. “Mommy, guess what!”

“What, buddy?”

“Daddy said I can meet an enamolgist today!”

“Wow! That’s awesome,” you patted his head. “Did he say when Dr. Hwang was available?”

“I was just about to call her,” Sungchan answered. “We wanted to find you first, hon.”

“I saw some cool posters in the hall, Binnie,” you let go of your son and offered him your hand. “Let’s go look at those while your dad makes his call, okay?”

“Okay!” He took your hand and let you guide him out into the hall, shutting the office door behind you.

The first one you found was a diagram of a wetland ecosystem, taller than your head, and spanned the entire wall between two offices.

“I can’t see it,” Woobin craned his neck to look at the poster. “Can you pick me up, please?”

You hoisted him up by his underarms and onto your hip. “Is that better?”

“Thank you!” He then pointed to an animal. “What’s that?”

“Here, it’s labeled. Do you see?” You showed him the black line connecting the animal to its common name and scientific name. “Can you read that first one?”

“Spotted… sal… uh… man… der?”

“Spotted salamander, good!” You confirmed.

“So this one is a…” he pointed to another animal, following the line to its name. “Green… ana… con… da. Green anaconda!”

“That’s right, Binnie.”

The two of you were still on that same poster sounding out animal names, when Sungchan poked his head out from his office just a few doors down. Woobin was in the middle of a name, so you indicated to your husband to wait a moment before listening to the boy continue to sound it out. Sungchan walked over to join the two of you as Woobin had just finished his first attempt at the bird’s name.

“That was a good guess, it does look like the words ‘her’ and ‘on,’” you said. “But the animal is pronounced heron.”

“Hair-in,” he echoed slowly.

“You got it. Can you put it together now?”

“Great blue heron.”

“Good job, buddy,” Sungchan praised him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, buddy.”

“Did you get a hold of Dr. Hwang?” You asked.

“Yes, she’s in her office right now and has some spare time.”

“Yay!” Your son cheered, starting to wriggle out of your grip.

The three of you trekked to the third floor to get to Dr. Hwang’s office. Dr. Hwang was an older woman who welcomed you in warmly.

“Daddy says butterflies are bugs,” Woobin said very seriously. “Is that true?”

Dr. Hwang looked at Sungchan very judgmentally, before turning her attention down to your son. “Butterflies are insects, yes.”

“But how? They’re butterflies!”

“They’re just one kind of insect,” she explained patiently. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“Mm… Grapes!”

“Are grapes fruit?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And fruit is food, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Grapes are a type of fruit, and fruits are a type of food. Does that make sense so far?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same thing with butterflies. Butterflies are a type of insect, and insects are a type of animal.”

He seemed to think very hard about this for a moment, then nodded satisfactorily. “How many kinds of butterflies are there?”

“There are about 180,000 different species of butterflies and moths. That we know about.”

His eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Woah…”

“Would you like to see some?”

“Can I?” He then looked back at you and Sungchan. “Please? Can I?”

“Of course, buddy,” Sungchan smiled, then looked up at his colleague. “If it’s alright with you, Dr. Hwang, my wife and I are going to step out for a moment.”

She waved you off. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you nodded to her gratefully. Patting your son’s head, you informed him, “Daddy and I will be right back, buddy.”

As Dr. Hwang directed Woobin’s attention to a book, you and Sungchan stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“What happened?” You asked him fervently.

Sungchan pulled you a little further down the hall, keeping his voice low when he finally spoke. “He was doing fine until we got into his classroom. Got his arms around my neck, wouldn’t let go… Kid’s strong for a five-year-old.”

“Two of your students ended up in my office after you cancelled class.”

“Yeah, I stayed for the first thirty minutes, to try to ease him into it, but then when I tried to leave again, the same thing happened except worse… Kept asking for you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was too much of a distraction, we had to leave. He didn’t stop crying until I told him we were going to see you.”

You nodded in understanding, not upset with Sungchan in the slightest. If you’d been in his position, you probably would’ve done the same thing, if not, gave in even sooner.

“Do you think…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you think we should take him to see someone? See if it’s a phase or… something more serious? I mean, even if it is a phase, he’s clearly getting really upset about something…”

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea,” Sungchan agreed.

Dr. Kwon Hayoung was a younger woman, definitely no older than yourself and Sungchan if you had to guess, her posture relaxed as she sat in her mustard yellow armchair. Her entire office was colorful, filled with various toys, whimsical artworks, and plush, patterned pillows on the couch that you were currently sitting on with your husband. After lots of research, various recommendations from friends and colleagues at work, and an entire two weeks of Woobin being attached at the hip to one of the two of you, you had finally settled on taking him to Dr. Kwon. After an initial interview with all three of you, then just you and Sungchan (a task that was aided by the fact that Sungchan’s father had come along and occupied him in the meantime), she then evaluated your son, which required several breaks for him to see you. But finally, she had finished with him, and he went back to play with his grandpa while Dr. Kwon brought you and Sungchan back once again.

“There is nothing serious for us to be concerned about,” Dr. Kwon declared, her tone calm.

You and Sungchan exchanged an uncertain look. You cleared your throat, “Uhm…”

“I don’t mean to downplay the problems that your family is facing right now,” the child psychologist promised, readjusting her lavender purple frames on the bridge of her nose. “However, Woobin is developing typically for kids his age, which is good news.”

“Then why is he…?” Sungchan trailed off, his question obvious. Why is he doing all of this? So suddenly?

“You have been very open about him being adopted.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to hide it from him,” you said. “He even gets two parties every year, his birthday party, and we celebrate the day his adoption went through.”

“But he knows that he’s our son and we love him,” Sungchan added, shifting forward as his voice carried a slight edge to it.

“Of course, of course he knows that.” Dr. Kwon’s tone hadn’t lost any of the gentle kindness she began the conversation with. “Both you and he told me about another kid, in his class, who was not so understanding.”

“Yeah, it made buddy a little upset, but he seemed fine by the next day.”

“I do think he was fine. Until he had a recent dream, about falling asleep in his bed and waking up in someone else’s home,” she informed you, and you felt a harsh twinge in your chest as you realized that your son hadn’t even told you about that. “He’s not afraid that you two will give him away so much as he’s afraid that somebody will come take him from you.”

“Oh…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grimace as you thought about how scared your son must have felt since then.

Sungchan reached over to hold one of your hands. “What can we do? What are our options?”

“We can work on his anxiety, coping skills, attachment in sessions. Since it’s affected your daily lives as a family so much, I recommend starting at three times a week, and we can adjust from there. I would like both of you to attend as many as possible.”

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, squeezing Sungchan’s hand tight.

That night, after helping Woobin brush his teeth with his toothbrush and toothpaste that had migrated into your bathroom, you took your nighttime medication, then tucked it back away into the childproofed medicine cabinet. Sungchan was doing some late-night grading in your home office, but you had a five-year-old to put to bed on time, so you had started on that without him.

Woobin clambered up into his place in the middle of the mattress first, and you lifted up the comforter and blankets to slip in next to him. With the thoughts of his nightmare still weighing heavily on your heart, you called out to him quietly, “Binnie? Can Mommy cuddle with you?”

“Of course, Mommy!” He chirped, immediately taking it upon himself to scramble over to you under the covers and wrap himself around your middle like a koala.

You laughed, enveloping him in your arms to hold him to you even tighter. Pressing a long kiss to the top of his head, you then tucked him under your chin. Yeah, this was exactly what you needed. You had his next appointments set up with Dr. Kwon, and she hadn’t told you to change anything you were doing yet. So tomorrow you’d continue your new routine of bringing your son to campus with you and passing him between you and Sungchan—usually whoever was in office hours had him, or if you were both in a class, whoever had the smaller class. You had tried dropping him off at your parents’ house once, but as soon as he realized that you were leaving without him, he wouldn’t let go of your leg, his eyes started watering, and you immediately folded. Preschool was a no-go, as he had a soft, indefinite ban for the foreseeable future until he was no longer going to be a disruption. They were continuing to hold his spot at no charge to you, at least. It had been stressful, and there hadn’t been very long stretches of time in the past two weeks where you had been apart from him, but there wasn’t once where you ever felt resentful towards your son himself, you realized. He’s what you did this all for.

“I love you, Binnie,” you murmured, kissing his hair again. “Love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Mommy,” Woobin mumbled back sleepily, his words punctuated by a yawn.

You smiled fondly, listening as the sounds of his breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep. Not much later, and your bedroom door slowly creaked open. Sungchan quietly went about his own nighttime routine before finally shutting the bathroom light off and closing the door behind him. You were a little confused when he walked over to your side of the bed, though, thinking your son’s sippy cup that was sitting there might’ve needed a last-minute refill. Then you felt him raise the sheets and start squeezing himself in behind you.

“You’re going to fall off, Channie,” you whispered, trying to bite back the giggles bubbling up in your chest.

“Then make some room, baby,” he responded, his quiet words even more hushed by the fact that he was pressing his face into your shoulder as he readjusted.

You gently scooted further in on the bed, trying to jostle the child attached to you as little as possible, not wanting to wake him so soon after he’d fallen asleep—if he woke up now, he’d definitely be awake for another three hours at least. Sungchan scooched with you, molding himself around you after you’d gotten settled in again, and burying his face in the back of your neck. He slung an arm over your waist, his hand finding one of yours where it was resting on Woobin’s back, slotting his fingers with yours.

After some time, when you were sure your son was deep asleep, Sungchan spoke again, “I had a student ask me what death of the author is.”

You craned your neck to try to look at his face out of the corner of your eye. “In your bio class?”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird too.”

“Are they… in one of my classes? And thought that you would know because we’re married? And knew that we’re married?” Obviously there were pictures of you, Sungchan, and your son in his office, but since classrooms and labs were shared spaces at the university, professors didn’t decorate or keep personal belongings in there. The average Intro to Bio student wouldn’t have any reason to know that you and Sungchan were married just from attending lecture.

“That was my first thought, too. Turns out he had you last semester.”

You scrunched your nose in confusion. “Then why…?”

“Apparently, in your class, he met this cute Lang major, but she didn’t seem too impressed with him. Thinks he’s a dumb jock.” Sungchan’s chest vibrated with his chuckle.

“Because he doesn’t know what death of the author is? Is he failing your bio class, perchance?”

“No.”

“Did she actually tell him she thought he was a dumb jock, or is he just assuming?” You asked pointedly.

“He seemed pretty convinced.” Your husband grinned and nudged you with his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

“What are you—Oh my god, you think that sounds like us?” You rolled your eyes. “I did not think you were a dumb jock! I just… didn’t think about you really at all.”

“Ouch.” His pout was still very visible in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Not my fault you opted to pine for three years like a loser instead of talking to me.”

“Words hurt, you know.”

You shook your head. “So were you able to tell him what death of the author is?”

“No. But he’s apparently trying to read along from your Brit Lit I syllabus.”

“So that’s why you knew Bisclavret the other day. He won’t get very far on his own, even translated, Old English can be pretty awkward to get through,” you warned.

“Yeah… So do you have any study guides?” He batted his eyelashes at you, and you once again rolled your eyes.

“Seriously? You should tell him to talk to her like a person. He won’t get anywhere if he’s constantly thinking of both of them one-dimensionally. Him as the dumb jock, and her as the smart Lang major,” you scoffed. “Sound familiar?”

“That’s a no on the study guide?”

“The Internet exists. And you didn’t get me by making me swoon over your knowledge of Breton lais.”

“True.” He clicked his tongue in the back of his mouth. “I’ll ask him if she has any chronic illnesses to tend to.”

“You didn’t stay with me during the Halloween party as some elaborate scheme to get me to date you. At that point, you still thought you were friendzoned. If my memory serves me.” You pointed out.

He yawned and nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder. “Perhaps…”

“You stayed with me because you’re a good, sweet guy, always have been,” you continued, taking your hand that he had been holding back to reach behind you and poke his leg. “That’s how you got me.”

“Aw, you still know how to my heart flutter, baby. Even after fifteen years.”

You smiled to yourself as he kissed your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re easy.”

“And still know how to wound me with so few words.”

“I love you, too, Channie,” you chuckled softly, taking his hand again under the covers.

“Only this easy for my girl.” He murmured, dropping another kiss to your shoulder. “Love of my life.” Another kiss, this one on your cheek. “Can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We’re already married,” you said humorously, wiggling your entwined left hands pointedly.

“So? I can only talk about spending the rest of our lives together before we sign the marriage papers? Can’t do it while we’re actually living that life together and raising our son?”

“Well when you put it like that…” You turned your head to catch his lips with yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

Sungchan hummed into the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth when you pulled away.

“I love you, my Sungchannie,” you professed as you’d done thousands of times before, each time thinking that you could never be more in love with this man than you were in that moment, and yet each time it felt like your love had only grown exponentially since the last time you said it.

“I love you too. My girl,” he replied, resting his forehead against yours. You didn’t need him to speak to know what he was thinking. The two of you were going to get through this. Even though right now, you don’t know exactly how, you would.

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ilyasorokinn · 11 months

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omgggg happy 3rd anniversary to you!!!! here's to many more to come 🥂 for this celebration can i please request, from the general fluffy dialogue prompt list number 8 + 9 with mat barzal pls? thank you!

WINNIE MARTIN’S FAVORITE PERSON

this is the first of my tumblr-versary blurbs, so if that annoys you, block the tag 'taylor's tumblr-versary' love ya <3

8. "who let you be this cute today?" 9. "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." (from this prompt list)

you tried to go to as many games as you could, but you had a job so making it to every game was impossible. but, when you could make it to games, mat made sure to plan ahead and make sure you were gonna have a good time.

"you have a ride, right?" mat asked from the bathroom where he was still getting read.

"yes, i have a ride." you sighed. a moment of silence enveloped you and you knew something was wrong, "you okay? you need help with anything?" you asked.

"...yes." he hesitated.

"you can't tie your tie, can you?" you smiled.

"no." you could see the pout on his face as you made your way into the bathroom.

"ooh." you teased, "mathew barzal, who let you be this cute today?" you teased, enjoying the shy smile on his face.

"stop please. just help." he handed you the tie he wanted to wear, but you shook your head, "what?"

"mat, i love you, but your sense of style is awful." you winced, recalling every bad fashion choice you had seen him make. you set the tie on the counter and grabbed a different one, one that better matched the suit he was wearing, and began tying it.

"i should.be offended." the smile on his face told you he wasn't.

"i'm saving you from ending up on people's worst dressed." you shrugged.

he rolled his eyes, "so, before i go, can i see what you're gonna wear tonight?" it was no secret that you loved dressing up for games. it was fun and you liked doing it. you usually had little pieces with his name, number, or team colors. something to show your support, and mat loved it.

"nope." you shook your head.

"what? why not?"

"that ruins the surprise," you told him.

"you're gonna make me wait till after the game to see." he pouted.

"i don't know. maybe i'll be there at warmups." you shrugged, smiling when he perked up, "i think syd's bringing win, so maybe i'll go down with them." she was your ride, so going down to the ice for warmups made sense.

"okay, well, i guess i might see you during warmups." he kissed your forehead.

"maybe." you shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, "try not to fall, okay?" he rolled his eyes.

"i don't do it on purpose." he insisted.

you smiled, "score goals." you told him, leaning up and giving him a quick peck.

"for you, always." he hummed.

after he left, you got ready as quickly as you could and before you knew it, sydney martin was pulling up outside your building, "y/n yl/n, you always put the rest of us to shame."

"oh, stop it." you smiled bashfully.

"i'm serious. how you do it astounds me." she ran her finger over the sleeve of your jacket, "doesn't y/n look pretty, win?" you looked to the backseat where winnie was sitting, clutching a stuffed animal.

"pretty." she smiled.

"thank you, miss win." you winked before getting into the passenger side.

true to your word, you followed sydney down to the ice for warmups and helped keep winnie entertained. you could tell sydney was a little tired, so you did your best to keep her attention.

when the boys came out, you couldn't help but smile when mat tossed a couple of pucks over the ice to a few kids. winnie's eyes were glued to the ice as she watched all the guys skate around.

matt skated over, making his daughter laugh, blowing her kisses and even tossing her a puck, which she clutched to her chest along with her stuffed animal.

when your mat finally skated over, sydney took her daughter back so you and mat could have a moment. he smiled, taking notice of your jacket. he spun his finger, and you gave him a little twirl so he could see your jacket.

he gave a thumbs up and a nod, which made you laugh. he tossed a puck over and nodded to a kid behind you, whose eyes were glued. on mat, watching him mesmerized.

you nodded and waved. as he skated backward, he waved and winked. you rolled your eyes before looking at the puck. you smiled when you noticed that mat had signed it.

you turned around to the kid, who looked at you, probably after having seen mat point at him. you laughed before you handed it to him, "this is from barzy." you told him, "have fun tonight."

you turned back to sydney, who had her phone out and was probably recording and taking pictures of the whole thing, "you guys are so cute." she hugged you, "now come on, let's get some drinks." you smiled when winnie raised her arms in your direction, a signal that she wanted to be picked up.

after the game, and an ot goal scored by mat, you waited with sydney and the other girls in the tunnel. you were sitting with sydney, and the entire game, winnie was in your lap. somehow she had gravitated from her seat into your lap, but you didn't mind.

"look, win, there's your dad." you pointed when you saw matt walk out. she gave him a wave, but yawned and laid her head on your shoulder, "i'm tired, too." you patted her back, making the martin's smile.

you waved when you saw mat walk out. he made his way over to you and hugged you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "i'm proud of you. overtime goal!" you cheered quietly, not wanting to disturb winnie too much.

"i know. all for you." he smiled into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "you ready to go?" you hummed.

"wait, wait, before you guys go." sydney stopped you, pulling out hr phone, "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." she begged.

"fine." mat rolled his eyes playfully, but posed for the picture nonetheless. after the picture was taken, you were going to hand winnie off to her parents, but she clung to you.

"come on, we gotta go home, winnie." sydney sighed, flashing. youan apologetic smile.

"how about this? i'll carry you in the car, but after that, i gotta go." you offered, and she nodded, "all right, let's go." you switched arms and started heading int he direction of sydney's car.

mat walked by your side, holding your hand and talking to you about whatever. unbeknownst to you, sydney, who was trailing behind you and mat, was snapping pictures.

you set winnie in her car seat and waved, "bye, winnie girl." you blew her a kiss and she blew you one back, which you accepted and held close to your chest, which made her laugh.

you walked back to mat's car, "that felt very domestic." he told you.

"keep dreaming, barzal. let's stick to babysitting."

"i know, i know." he raised his hands in surrender.

as you got waited for mat to get into bed later that night, you saw sydney's tag and checked out the instagram story. it was a photo she had taken, without your knowledge, of you and mat walking towards the parking garage, hand-in-hand, winnie in your arms, her head on your shoulder with the caption 'her favorite person ever ❤️ @/yourusername'

mat hopped into bed next to you and saw the post, "you're right. we do look domestic." you smiled.

"let's stick to babysitting." he joked.

taylor's tumblr-versary!

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theemporium · 1 year

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can you write something where trevor is very clingy and cuddly with reader??

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Injuries were one of the many accessories that came with the package of being a hockey player.

And Trevor Zegras had his fair share of injuries.

Some were worse than others. Some were a miracle that they didn’t end up worse. Some almost took him away from the thing he loved the most in life. Some were now funny memories he laughed back on.

And some were just the usual rough-ups you’d get, even during a morning skate.

It hasn’t been a purposeful attack. More a playful fight for the puck gone wrong, and Trevor found himself hitting the boards a little rougher than anyone would’ve liked. He was cleared by medical and he would be absolutely fine by the next game. In fact, all they said was to put some ice on it for the rest of the day and to see how he felt the next day.

But Trevor wasn’t a good man. Not in the slightest. Because he knew you worried for him. He knew you worked yourself up about his injuries, that you took them far more seriously than he did. He knew that you just wanted to reassure yourself that he was okay.

And after barely seeing you because of your own work, Trevor missed having you all to himself. So maybe—just maybe—he played up his injury when he got home, knowing full well he would get exactly what he craved.

“Trev?”

“Hm?”

“Babe, you need to get up.”

However, he only let out a vague noise of disagreement as he nuzzled his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Trevor, baby, this position probably isn’t good for your shoulder,” you tried again, gently running your hands through his hair as he let out a low hum.

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll ice it later.”

Your hands paused. “I should get you ice now. Maybe some paracetamol—”

“No,” Trevor whined, a little high-pitched as his arms around your torso tightened. “This is what I need to feel better. Let’s just stay here.”

You lightly tugged on his hair until he finally lifted his head, his chin propped on your chest as he stared at you with wide and innocent eyes. If you didn’t know him like the back of your hand, maybe you would’ve believed the doe eyes.

“Your shoulder doesn’t even hurt that much, does it?” You deadpanned.

“I mean,” he started, his cheeks flushing a little. “It does. Just…not as much.”

“Trevor—”

“No, don’t get up,” Trevor pleaded, and it was hard to resist the big puppy eyes staring at you. “Please. Just…I’ve barely seen you all week. Let’s just have an us day, please?”

Your face softened.

“I just wanna be close to you,” Trevor murmured as he laid his head back down, his cheek pressed against your chest where he could hear your heart racing. “And not because we both went to bed at the same time, but because we wanna.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But you’re still icing your shoulder.”

Trevor grinned. “Of course, baby, I’ll always listen to my favourite nurse.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not buying a sexy nurse costume.”

“Boo.”

#trevor zegras #nhl #anahiem ducks #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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sh4wty18 · 5 days

Text

girl of your dreams - chapter two.

one. | two. | three.

pairing: hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader

summary: chris keeps getting distracted at practice. then he invites his rival to a party.

cw: rivals to lovers, angst, first person POV, language

word count: 1.2k + not edited

tags: @joeshiestyslover @chrissbluehat @h3arts4harry @wompwomp-1 (if you want to be tagged, comment!)

dividers from @plutism

---

Chris’s POV

All week at practice I’ve been getting distracted by Y/n. What? It’s not my fault she’s so fucking hot. And that attitude of hers, shit. I’m lucky she’s never been to one of my parties, even though I want her to come. Me plus her plus alcohol equals disaster. I think the second a drop of alcohol enters my system around her, I’d kiss her.

On the hockey team, I play center. I’m supposed to be scoring all the goals and leading the team to victory, but this week I’ve been missing the puck left and right. Every time I glance over at the women’s figure skating team, I catch a glimpse of Y/n landing some insane trick. Like right now, she just landed two three sixty turns in a row perfectly on one foot. I don’t know what that move is called, but I know she looked incredible doing it. She looks up, and for a second her gaze meets mine. I look down at the ice, and I can practically feel her sarcastic eye-roll burning into my skin. If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over.

“Sturniolo! Come on, get your head out of your ass!” Coach Carter yells across the rink. “Less ogling the girls, more scoring! We got a game on Monday.”

A few of the guys on my team snicker as I awkwardly make my way back to my starting position. “Sorry, coach,” I mumble. One of the wingmen passes me the puck, and I maneuver it up the rink and swing. It flies past the goalie and into the net, and the horn blares out above us.

“Fuck yeah!” I shout, and turn to look at the figure skaters. Sure enough, Y/n is staring at me. I shoot her a grin, and I swear, I catch her starting to blush. But before I can confirm it, she looks away.

It’s this little game we play. We pretend to hate each other, or at least, I do. She might actually hate me for all I know, although I hope she doesn’t. Really, we’re just rivals in the academic sense. I can tell she gets mad that I like to party and can still pull good grades. Great grades, even. Grades as good as hers. I don’t try as hard as her, and I know it. The professors love me, the girls love me, and I know how to get what I want. In Model UN, we’re co-presidents, and sometimes I like to debate her on purpose, just because I know I get under her skin. I know that makes me a dick, but so what? She’s a dick to me, too. We’ve had this rivalry since freshman year, and maybe that makes us immature. Going on four years of petty arguments, scowls, and sarcastic remarks. I can’t help it. She’s insufferable. But fuck, she’s so hot.

I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between freshman year and now, my feelings for her elevated to include not only reluctant toleration and annoyance, but also pathetic pining. I want her– bad. But she also makes me so angry. With her stupid preppy outfits, her try-hard, kiss-ass attitude, the smug looks she gives me every time she beats me to answering a question in class. She’s enraging. And yet, she’s still who I think about every night when I’m trying to fall asleep. God, what is happening to me?

“Sturniolo!! Alright! Go the hell home– all of you! We’re done here. Come back on Monday with a clear mind. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here right now,” Coach Carter yells.

I don’t move at first, none of us do. He’s never kicked someone out of practice before, let alone the entire team. And it was all my fault.

“What about Saturday practice?” a guy named Charlie asks.

“Canceled.” We all stare in awe. He must be really mad. “Well? Get the fuck out of my rink!”

We all scramble to glide off the rink and towards the bleachers. As we pull off our skates and make our way into the locker room to get changed, everyone is giving me dirty looks. I have no defense. I ruined practice because I was thinking about fucking my rival. Who am I? She probably doesn’t even feel the same about me.

To make it up to the boys, I quickly made an offer. “Alright, guys. I’m sorry about today. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I’ve been having an off week. How about we chill at the ADPhi house tonight? I host, free alc, on me?”

A few guys laugh and smile. One of my friends, Jackson, claps me on the shoulder, “Sorry? You saved us from Saturday practice! We gotta get you in trouble more often!” He laughs, and I do too. “Yeah, man, we’ll see you tonight.”

I smile and continue changing. It’s good to know not everyone is mad at me. The last thing I want is to let my team down. We all collect our things and make our way back out to the rink, where most of the figure skating team is grabbing their stuff to head out, too. Both the coaches have left at this point, so I feel completely comfortable shouting, “Hey! Hockey-figure skating double party tonight! ADPhi house! You all better fuckin’ be there!” I smile and wink at the women. Most of them smile back and give me nods of affirmation. Except one.

Y/n keeps her head down, continuing to throw her belongings into her bag as if I didn’t say anything at all. I let out a quiet huff. I sit on the far end of the bleachers until the majority of my teammates and the figure skaters have left, and it’s just me, Y/n, and a few stragglers remaining. I slowly make my way up to her, leaning down to meet her line of sight.

“What do you want?” she asks like she could not give less of a shit about anything I have to say. Like I’m just the piece of meat standing between her and the library. I hate how much it turns me on, to hear her that pissed off at me. Fuck.

“You coming tonight?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I just want to hear her say it.

“Chris, you know I’m not.”

I chuckle, “I know you don’t like having fun. I shouldn’t have even asked.”

This throws her for a loop, and she lets out a shocked sigh. “I do like having fun.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, giving her a lopsided, cocky smile. “Prove it.”

Her face flushes, and I pretend I don’t notice. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But think of how good it would feel to show me up. You’re always trying to prove me wrong. Isn’t that like, our whole thing?”

“We don’t have a ‘thing’,” she says. Ouch.

“Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever wondered what it feels like? To break the rules. Do something no one would ever expect of you.”

Somehow, this is the thing that makes her consider it. I can practically see the gears turning in her head. “Fine.”

Yes! I smirk. “See you tonight.”

---

i love this and i cannot wait to write more chapters of this fic! tysm for your patience :)

#sh4wty18 #original fiction #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #hockeyplayer!chris #hockeyplayer x figureskater #hockey!au

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sukiipjs · 6 months

Text

✮ MY BOY

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 839

↳ summary - fight breaks out between you and the other center player at your hockey game. (idk what to say, i SUCK at summary’s 😞)

↳ contains - physical fighting, mention of blood, homophobia, swearing, idk?

↳ song - my boy by billie eilish

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i get on all my padding and gear for the hockey game that’ll start soon, i get up from a bench in the locker room about to make my way to the rink but as soon as i stand i get pushed back down by the asshole center on the other team as he and his teammates slide pass me, laughing.

he always does shit like, i try my best to ignore him whenever we play but i’m only human right? whatever, i get back up and walk to the rink. me and my team wait around before we have to get on the ice, i look around the seats above us until i spot him, nick. he spots me too as we wave at each other, me smiling as i hold my helmet beside me.

that asshole on the other team slides by me again, seeing me look up at nick, “awh saying hi to your boyfriend huh? how cute” he smirks, talking in a taunting voice. i still try not to get too bothered by him, “shut up,” i mumble back, glaring at him as he laughs away.

we get on the ice, sliding around until eventually it’s time and we all get into our spots, me facing the guy from the other team, both of us being centers. we stare at each other, my eyes narrow and his mouth curves into a stupid smirk. we hold our sticks in place as we wait for the ref to drop the puck, “you sure you can play pussy boy? not too caught up thinking bout your little twink up there?” that smirk stays planted on his face as he speaks to me.

“i’ll be doing better than you, coach even know you’re out here?” a small smirk trys to crawl on my face, trying to bite back at him. i see the ref about to skate to us, almost ready for the game, “fairy” he spits out as he looks out at the ref. fuck this.

i let my stick fall from my hands, throwing my gloves on the cold ice before skating myself into him, gripping at his helmet. it gets thrown aside, mine too as we start taking punches at each other as much as we can before a loud whistle blows, our teammates skating behind us to try and pull us off each other.

the ref comes quicker, also trying to stop us as we continue throwing our hands, both our knuckles staining red. people shout at us until he throws his hands into me, knocking the side of my face too hard, unbalancing my feet as i fall into some players arms that pull me away from him “fairy!” he shouts again before we both glide off the ice, i wipe off the bright red blood streaking from my nose.

suspended, i’m fucking suspended. i go back to where i started, taking my gear off in the locker room. i get my bag of stuff, heading back out the room as i see nick leaning on the wall, waiting for me. he sees me come out and turns his attention to me, “jesus, he fucked you up,” he laughs a little, his thumb brushing at the red spot that scars on my face.

“suspended two games, he only got one!” i scoff, gently swiping nicks hand off me, “yeah well you’re too aggressive. this isn’t your first time, you fight too much,” he looks at me, giving me these eyes, a slight smirk of know-it-all on his face. “and i don’t regret it one bit, especially not with that idiot” i laugh, smiling back now as my hand not holding my bag goes to nicks face, giving him a small kiss and a smile.

“putting on a show huh?” i look up, seeing ‘that idiot’ come up behind me. i sigh, turning around, “fuck is your problem? genuinely why do you care i’m gay? you jealous or something?” i give him that grin now, “don’t flatter yourself fairy,” he pushes against my shoulders, making me stumble back a little.

“you better not start again,” my eyes narrow at him, my bag dropping on the floor as i rebalance, walking closer to him. “hey man, hit me all you want, get yourself three games” he laughs, putting his hands up as he makes himself free to hit at which someone takes advantage of. a fist attacks his face, splitting his lip as he takes his hands to his face, putting pressure on the blood, “motherfucker…”

i turn to nick, a small blood drop on his fingers. i laugh, “just leave asshole.” nick starts walking away as i follow, grabbing my bag back up again. we walk out, into the coldness of the night, i nudge nicks shoulder with mine, whispering to him. “that was hot,” i giggle as he does too, i give his cheek another kiss before i put my arm around him as we walk through, small flakes of snow dropping on us.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07

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endless-summer-soldier · 1 year

Text

ice ice baby - chapter ten

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

series playlist

series masterlist

The team stood on the ice, idling in place as a member of the university acapella group sang the national anthem. It was the first round of the playoffs and Bucky was doing his best to fight off the nerves. He caught Y/N’s eye in the stands and smiled at her, excited that she was there to support him. But her presence made him more nervous because he wanted to impress her.

As the anthem ended and the crowd broke out into applause, the team skated to the sidelines for a drink of water to prepare for the start of the game. Then, an announcement came over the PA system.

“And now we have a very special presentation honoring all our graduating seniors.”

Bucky looked up at the screen in surprise. He peered around to his teammates, but their eyes were all glued to the screen.

The first message was from Steve’s parents, talking about how proud they were of him and wishing him luck in the game. Then Sam’s sister and his nephews appeared, smiling big and gushing over Sam. As the messages continued, Bucky wondered who his message would be from. It could be from his mother, but they weren’t terribly close. Maybe his younger sister, but he hadn’t spoken with her in a while. His question was answered a moment later when he saw Y/N’s face on the screen.

“Hey Buck,” she smiled at the camera, “I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have had on me over the past few months. First you swooped in and saved me by agreeing to be my partner. You persevered through my perfectionism and high standards, impressing both of us, which is when you gained my trust. And then, you pushed me outside of my comfort zone. Aside from my mother, you are the only person that has challenged me to try new things and to just stop and appreciate life every so often. Now, I’m not a very sentimental person and I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but I mean it when I say that I love you.”

She gave one more genuine smile at the camera and Bucky subconsciously placed his hand over his heart. He looked up to find her in the crowd and she was already peering down at him, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She was nervous about putting herself out there. Bucky gave her the toothiest grin and mouthed “I love you too.” She drew a heart in the air with her two pointer fingers and smiled back at him. Now he was ready to play.

In the last period, the game was tied 2-2. Bucky was playing extremely well. He had to admit, his figure skating lessons had improved his speed and technique, and his opponents weren’t ready for it.

The clock was ticking down under the two minute mark, and something had to happen. Bucky was not letting this game go into overtime. He looked toward Coach Selvig and made a small T with his hands, signaling for a timeout. Selvig nodded and called for time as the team skated over to the bench.

“I’ve got something,” Bucky told the coach. He dropped his gloves to snag the small white board and marker, drawing out the play he had in mind. As he looked around, his teammates were nodding and Solvig held a thoughtful hand to his chin.

“That could work,” he approved. The team took one final sip of water and then the whistle called them back to the ice. Clint positioned himself in the small circle for the faceoff while everyone else circled around the ice.

The puck dropped and Clint flicked the puck to Peter, who sped down the ice. Bucky and Steve shielded him on either side, keeping defenders out of his way. Peter looked toward the goal and took a fake shot while actually passing the puck to Sam. Sam skated around the back of the net and attempted to sneak the puck into the corner of the goal. One of the defenders saw it happening too quickly, and got a stick on the shot. The puck spun out toward Steve and he effortlessly collected it, skating around to reset the offense. Bucky gave him space, skating back towards the neutral zone to get a read on possible plays. Clint moved opposite Steve and attempted to get open, but Steve didn’t have many options. He passed the puck back to Sam when Bucky saw an opportunity. He skated in to protect Sam, planning to slam the defender into the ice. But Sam had a different idea.

He passed the puck just ahead of where Bucky was skating to and Bucky sped up to claim it. He was expecting a defender to put some pressure on him any second now, but the moment never came. Bucky continued skating to a wide open goal and found he was playing chicken with the goalie. He leaned toward the right, waiting for the goalie to shift, and as soon as he did, Bucky took a shot to the left. The shot clinked off the goalpost and flew into the back of the net. The lights flashed above the goal and Bucky glanced up at the scoreboard. With a mere 15 seconds left, this game was as good as over.

His teammates pulled him into a tight group hug and he heard the crowd going wild. The refs broke up the celebration and asked the players to reset, preparing for the final faceoff. Clint stood in the middle of the circle and easily won the puck, passing to Steve who skated in a figure eight to kill the time. The air horn blew, calling for the final time and the team celebrated once again. They shook hands with the other team and the opposition quickly filed off the ice. The fans were tossing teddy bears, scarves, and mittens onto the ice to celebrate the team.

Solvig approached Bucky and gave him a pat on the back before letting him know the broadcast crew wanted to do a quick interview with him. He skated over to the edge of the rink and answered a few basic questions from the anchor. As much as he was loving the victory, all he could think about was Y/N. He wanted to squeeze her tight in his big arms and tell her he loved her over and over again. As he skated away, he saw her standing behind the glass, smiling at him.

“Come here,” he mouthed and motioned. She looked toward the bench, figuring out how to get past the glass and acted before thinking. She jumped over the barrier onto the bench, and then used the little door to let herself onto the ice. She was surprised to find she didn’t even bother to consider the consequences of this action. She honestly didn’t care if she was forcibly removed from the ice, she just wanted to be with Bucky.

She trode carefully on the ice in her boots, and Bucky did most of the work, striding toward her with little effort.

“There you are,” he said, cupping her face with his hands.

“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you!”

“Really?” He said reflexively. It had been a long time since someone said those words to him.

“Of course. Now I can brag to anyone that will listen about my stud of a boyfriend who scored the game winning goal in the playoffs.”

He smiled and bit his bottom lip as a blush spread to his cheeks, “Oh boyfriend, huh?”

“Don’t tell me now you have a problem with labels. I just announced to this whole stadium that I love you!”

He placed a hand around her waist and leaned in close, whispering “I love labels. Almost as much as I love you.” He closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss as her hand found the back of his neck. He leaned her back into a dip and she squealed in his mouth in surprise.

“Get a room!” Sam yelled. They separated and Bucky returned her to vertical, before telling Sam to shut up.

“Now the real question is, how are we celebrating?”

T W O Y E A R S L A T E R

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Y/N whispered to Bucky. The two were dressed head-to-toe in red and blue Ralph Lauren layers that consisted of a sweater donning the American flag, a buffalo plaid puffer, blue and red boots, and navy blue beanies with the American Olympic Committee logo. The only difference in their ensembles was that Y/N had on a pair of sleek navy leggings, while Bucky was in white snow pants.

“I feel…puffy…” she managed to say.

“Well you look adorable. You know I can’t resist you in a beanie,” he said, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

She blushed before pushing him away, reminding him that they were about to walk out with the rest of their country representatives. It was the opening ceremonies for the Olympics and all that was required of them for tonight was to walk out with their flag, smile, and wave at the crowd. Yet this was the moment that everything hit Y/N; not only was her dream coming true, but she was doing it with Bucky at her side.

As much as she would’ve loved to compete with Bucky, it wasn’t possible with his hockey schedule. She found another partner who skated well and was easy to work with. She still turned to Bucky for music recommendations, wanting to keep the crowd and judges on the edge of their seats.

Bucky had made the US hockey team with ease. He’d been playing in the minor league and practicing with the national team whenever warranted. He was drafted by the Boston Bruins after graduation and was scheduled to start practicing with the team following the Olympic games.

Y/N had been training in Lake Placid, which was close enough to Boston for them to see each other when they had free time. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked fine. Bucky’s latest campaign was for Y/N to move to Boston and move in with him after the Olympics. She wasn’t convinced just yet. She had to figure out what her next step was career wise. This would likely be her only Olympics but she wasn’t quite ready to hang up her skates.

“This is it,” Bucky interrupted her thoughts and grasped her hand, as they prepared for the big stage.

She turned to him and said, “No one I’d rather have by my side.”

Y/N had her headphones in and was stretching in an attempt to release the stress she was currently harboring. She was next up to skate and was feeling more nervous than she expected. This was the biggest stage she’d ever skated on and she was trying not to let the pressure get the best of her.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find her partner Scott, smiling at her. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. He asked if she was ready because they were on next and she merely nodded. The routine was great, but technically challenging. Even the slightest misstep could ruin the whole thing. She pulled herself together and followed Scott to their on deck position.

She was practicing her deep breathing to center herself when Scott nudged her arm ever so slightly. She turned to him, curiously and he merely pointed out toward the crowd. Y/N peered out into the crowd and found the entire USA hockey team seated behind the judges at the top few rows of the arena. Her mouth turned upward into a smile when she saw Bucky leading the pack with a “Y/N for Gold” poster above his head. He never ceased to amaze her. After two years of being together, he still managed to pull off the perfect surprises. The butterflies in her stomach never quite went away when he was around. He caught her gaze and gave her a thumbs up as if to say “You’ve got this.” She carefully placed her fingers to her lips and blew him a gentle kiss. Bucky caught the symbolic kiss in his fist before placing it over his heart.

Y/N turned to Scott with a nod and said, “I’m ready.”

Everything was a blur. Y/N and Scott completed the routine, but she did so without thinking about it. It was like she was commuting to work and all the sudden she pulled into the parking lot, realizing she hadn’t paid any attention to how she got there. On ice, the specifics of the routine weren’t on her mind; she was thinking about Bucky and the first time they skated together. It was a mess, he was all over the place. And yet, they built something out of nothing. Her mind then drifted to their routine at nationals. Bucky pushed her out of her comfort zone, creating an edge over the competition she didn’t realize was possible. Being on the ice with him that day felt magical. The only time she had felt like that before was the first time she skated with her mom. Now, being here on the biggest stage imaginable, she realized that the competition didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness. And Bucky gave her that.

She was released from her thoughts when Scott shook her shoulders and smiled at her. She mirrored his expression before glancing up at the rankings, where she saw their names at the top of the board, claiming the highest score of the competition so far. She glanced up into the crowd and saw the US hockey team cheering wildly and all she wanted was to climb up those stands and throw her arms around Bucky.

Before she knew it, she was standing on the podium and they were placing an Olympic gold medal around her neck. This was the moment she had dreamed about her whole life, and yet something was missing. She smiled for the cameras and teared up imagining her mother cheering her on in the afterlife, but what she really wanted was Bucky by her side.

After the medal ceremony, there were several news interviews that she took with Scott and she provided the generic responses she had mentally rehearsed in preparation for this moment. Apart from wanting to find Bucky, she really just felt relieved that all the build up to the competition was finally over. She could finally relax and enjoy being across the world with her person.

Once the press frenzy was over, Y/N and Scott retired to their dressing room, where they would collect their things and head to the dormitories. They were both emotionally drained from all the attention, but they still had smiles plastered on their faces.

As soon as they opened the door, Y/N first noticed the “Y/N for Gold” sign propped up against the vanity and then she found Bucky sitting in her chair, phone out but head turned toward her. In a millisecond, he was up and had Y/N spinning off the ground in his arms.

“There’s my superstar!” he gushed, squeezing her as tight as he could. “You crushed it out there, Ace!”

When he put her down, he greeted Scott with a fist bump and complimented him on a flawless routine. Scott quickly collected his things and announced that he would head back so that they could have some time alone with each other, much to the couple’s appreciation.

Y/N nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder, happy to be in his arms again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Watching you skate today took my breath away. I’ve seen you skate before, but it’s different being with you on the ice. I was always focused more on what my next move was. But tonight, I was able to focus all my attention on you and you were absolutely incredible. I love that I was able to be here to see years of hard work pay off. I am so unbelievably proud of you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in closer.

His words were so genuine and kind that she didn’t know how to react. The only thing she could manage back was, “I love you so much.” She pulled her head off his shoulder and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. As they separated, Bucky held her eyes for a moment and he never felt so connected or so in love.

“You know what, fuck it,” he muttered to himself. Y/N looked at him, confused, and it was only when he held her hands and got down on one knee did she realize what was happening.

“I had a whole plan for how I was going to do this. We were going to go out to a beautiful dinner on a yacht and the server would bring out a chocolate mousse for dessert and right on top would be the ring. But something about this moment just feels right. You’re standing in front of me in your team USA tracksuit with a gold medal around your neck and all I can think about is how desperately I want to marry you. And please know I don’t want to overshadow your Olympic victory at all, I just can’t spend another day calling you my girlfriend when I want you to be my fiance. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

The tears had started dropping before he was finished. It wasn’t until Bucky lifted his eyebrows that she realized she hadn’t responded.

“Yes, absolutely yes. I would love to marry you.”

He nearly jumped up from his knee to pick her up and smother her with kisses.

“I love you so much. Did I say that? I don’t think I said that,” Bucky rambled.

“I know Bucky. I love you too.”

He carefully put her down and slid the ring onto her delicate finger.

“Can we still go to dinner on the yacht? Because that sounds really lovely.”

He chuckled, “Hell yeah we’re still doing that. Now we have a reason to celebrate.”

“Okay good. We should get out of here though, you have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, but only if you stay and cuddle with me tonight.”

“Now you know I can’t say no to my fiance,” she smiled up at him. He planted a kiss on her head before they collected her things and headed out.

Y/N was seated in the stands, a few rows behind the team, dressed in her team USA gear. The hockey team was warming up to face Canada, a major rival in Olympic hockey. USA and Canada had a history of facing each other in the gold medal game, and this year was no different. She sat there, twisting her engagement ring in an attempt to calm her nerves. Bucky was so close to achieving his goal and she wanted it so badly for him. He was the reason all her dreams came true and he deserved to win something too.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” An older man approached her side with a woman who she assumed was his wife.

“Yes, I am,” she responded.

He extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Joe Rogers and this is my wife, Sarah. We’re Steve’s parents.”

Her expression changed from confused to delight, “Oh, hi! So great to meet you.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Sarah said.

“Likewise! I should probably thank you for all the support you’ve shown Bucky. He’s spoken so highly about you both and I know he wouldn’t be here today without you.”

“He’s always been a good kid, he just fell into the wrong group. Watching him grow up to be a wonderful young man has been priceless,” Joe said. It warmed my heart that they spoke so highly of Bucky.

“How lucky are we that our Stevie and James both made the team!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Those two are inseparable. I don’t think they would’ve been able to function being apart for this long,” Y/N added. On top of both making the USA team, they had both been drafted by the Bruins.

Sarah and Joe chuckled and they continued chatting like old friends, keeping Y/N’s mind off her game day nerves. But that only lasted until the opening face off; once the puck was in play, she started twisting her ring again.

Into the third period, the score was 0-0. Both teams were playing extremely well on both sides of the ice, and both goalies saved several shots on goal. While Bucky and Steve were both playing really well, they had nothing to show for it on the scoreboard. It was easy to see why the two had been drafted together; they had a connection on the ice that was telepathic, each knowing exactly where the other was and what they were thinking.

And then, out of nowhere, Canada scored a goal. It happened so quickly that Y/N nearly missed it. One of the players took a shot on the goal and the puck skimmed one of his teammates skates, changing the angle ever so slightly that the goalie didn’t pick up on. It was rotten luck, but sometimes that happened in ice hockey.

There were only three minutes left in the game, but that was more than enough time. It only took a few seconds to score, but the team would have to keep the puck on the offensive side of the ice. Team USA pulled their goalie and added another man on the ice, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference if Canada scored again.

They did a great job moving the puck around and clearing out space for their teammates, but the goalie stopped every attempt at a goal. This didn’t discourage the team, as they continued to attack on offense, but as the clock ticked down, the reality of the situation was setting in. The final buzzer rang and team Canada circled up in a big group hug. Y/N watched Bucky look up at the scoreboard before hanging his head in defeat.

“They put up such a good fight. At least they can be proud of how they played,” Sarah said. Y/N nodded, agreeing with her statement but knowing Bucky would still be crushed.

“A silver medal is still a great accomplishment,” Joe added.

Both teams took off their helmets and lined up on the ice to receive their medals. The Canadians were all smiles while the Americans put on a brave face, but the disappointment was evident behind their eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a little when Bucky received his silver medal. It wasn’t exactly the outcome they wanted, but she was still incredibly proud of him for coming this far and never giving up.

Once the medal ceremony was over, both teams retreated to the locker room. Joe and Sarah asked Y/N if she wanted to go with them to meet Steve but she passed, knowing Bucky would want some space to process everything before socializing. She sat in the empty arena and watched the zamboni smooth the ice, wondering what she could say to cheer up Bucky.

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, Y/N wandered out of the arena to find the locker rooms. She poked her head behind the door labeled Team USA and found silence. She took that as a sign to continue and wandered through the rows of lockers, looking for her fiance. She found him lying on the bench, staring at the ceiling tiles, recently showered and dressed in his team USA track suit.

“Hey you,” she said, taking a seat next to his head. Her hands instinctively found their way to the side of his face and she started lightly playing with his hair.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes floated upwards to find her.

“Let me see it,” she demanded.

“See what?”

“Your medal!”

“It’s not as cool as yours,” he said, handing her the silver medal that had been tucked in his palm.

“Honestly, this will make for a more interesting display in the house. We’ve got two out of three!.”

“It’s not even about the medal. Or losing for that matter.”

“What’s it about then?”

He let out a deep exhale before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bench so he was almost facing her.

“When you won that gold medal, I felt so full. I was proud of you and I was grateful that I was there to witness your achievement. And I wanted you to feel that way today with me. I wanted to see you smiling in the crowd as they put the gold medal around my neck.”

He hung his head and Y/N leaned into his shoulder and grabbed his hands.

“Bucky, I had that moment today. Despite my best efforts, I cried a little bit when you received your medal. Of course I am proud of you. I’m proud of you for just making it to the Olympics. Winning a medal is even more amazing. And most of all, I’m proud that you never gave up. You left everything you had out there on the ice. I know you didn’t get the outcome you expected, but there is still so much that you should be proud of.”

He turned to her, “How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”

She placed a hand on his cheek, “Because I know you Buck. And I love you more than anything.”

He leaned into her and they shared a kiss that embodied their emotional connection. When the moment felt right, Y/N stood up and held her hand out for Bucky. He took it without hesitation and the two walked hand in hand out of the locker room.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your gold medal,” she offered, as her final words of comfort.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve got my gold medal right here.”

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