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jaylver · 4 months ago

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BREAK THE ICE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss?

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), mentions of drinking, alcohol and partying, slight miscommunications, lots of overthinking

WC: 25k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: coming back w another cheesy hockey romance hehehe, here's a spin-off of jake's part in no competition that has a little bit of elements from each part! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

part 3.5 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

You weren't expecting your first landed punch to happen on a random Friday night.

The club was packed with people, overly stuffed to the brim that it eventually became sauna level hot. It didn't help that you had to squeeze past the crowd either, trying to keep your balance and not topple over your own two feet was a hard challenge. Which one of your friends said that it would be a fun idea having a birthday party in a popular club? Now, you've got to face the repercussions of their impulsive planning.

It was also common knowledge that the club was one of the unsafest places to be, so when you felt someone grab your hand from behind in the midst of you squeezing through the crowd, tugging you and causing you to stumble, your first reaction wasn't exactly friendly.

Maybe it was both a rash decision and reaction, but you turned around, the hand no longer on you to even determine who had held onto you, then proceeded to throw a quick punch at the guy you're facing. You didn't even know if he was the actual one that did so, the amount of anger and rage that coursed through your veins had spurred you on to thrust your fist forward before a second thought. Judging from the guy's reaction, he was not the one, and it only clicked once he held his nose in pain.

"What the hell?" His yell above the music was audible to distinguish the confusion and annoyance in his voice. "Are you crazy?"

In the dimness of the club and the hat on his head, you couldn't fully tell who he was, or if he was bleeding from the punch to his nose, but you do know for sure that he was angry. The hat that he wore had the letter 'J' on it, and it was tilted upwards from the impact. He fixed it as immediately as you had noticed it.

"I'm so sorry," you were panicking, trying to meet his eyes that were basically impossible to make out in the darkness and the cover of his hat. How were you going to pull your infamous puppy pleading eyes to get yourself out of trouble? "Look, I felt someone grabbing me from behind, and you were … behind me, so I turned around and punched you thinking you were the one who pulled me,"

He could tell you were panicking, though your reason was quite reasonable, he was also rightfully mad at you. The guy before you took a minute before responding, most likely figuring out what to say next. "It wasn't me who grabbed you, it was probably some guy in between us that fled away once you turned around. I can understand your reaction but please don't punch people as your first instinct,"

You winced, mostly in embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry, really. You're not hurt, right?"

"It's just a punch, I'm not bleeding. I've gotten worse, don't worry," he waved you off, the tension in the stuffy club air was lifted. You couldn't tell if he was actually being serious or just trying to make it situation less serious, either way he was convincing to say the least. However, it was hard not to feel the aftermath of guilt for punching someone accidentally.

"I can get you drinks—"

"Nah, it's fine, really. Go buy a drink for yourself instead," he cut you off, waving his hand once again in dismissal. "I'm just glad you're safe. Even though I got a punch out of it,"

He might've laughed, but you could only let out a small chuckle, still embarrassed. It was amazing how the man was able to recover himself this quickly. "Thanks for not pressing charges or anything. Have a good night,"

"You too, sweets."

Him leaving right after calling you that was not nice at all. You found yourself stunned and replaying the moment. You just punched a guy, he was actually nice to you instead of being mad, and he called you 'sweets'? You might have just fallen in love.

Breathing out a sigh of mixed astonishment and relief, you regained your composure and continued your way out of the crowd. You've never been so glad to find the booth your friends were at, the panic did take a toll on you and all you needed was a shot.

Wonyoung was the first to approach you, her arms outstretched to pull you into a brief hug. "Hey! What took you so long?"

"Punched a guy. Don't ask."

She made a face at what you said, but decided not to question it either. "Okay? Was he cute though?"

"He was…I think?"

This wasn't how you imagined your first hockey game to turn out.

Thanks to your best friend, Anton's constant convincing and overly exaggerated praises for the school's hockey team, you were eventually dragged to one of their games against a big rival of another college. With the way he was explaining the rules and the rivalry, you were surprised at how the swimmer was an actual big fan of the sport. Even as you sat in the stands, successfully turning up to the game, he could, however, still sense your doubt.

"You're going to enjoy this one," he nudged your side, sounding confident till the point where it had you convinced for a second.

You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Would I?"

"Come on! Don't be a hater. I'm trying to welcome you to the world of sports,"

"I just don't get the hype of watching a bunch of men skating around with sticks and chasing after a puck," you huffed, standing your ground. Anton should be lucky you tolerated swimming enough to watch all his tournaments. "It's like football but on ice,"

"Either way, at least you'll still get to see some hot guys," he gave a small shrug, seeing your face morphing into that 'you have a point' type of look. Maybe that part had you convinced, even if it was the slightest.

You didn't need Anton to specifically point out which player was cute either, your eyes were already straying to them warming up on the ice. Although you were seated far up, you were able to tell from the glimpses on the jumbotron that number seven, 'JAEHYUN MYUNG', was a total cutie.

"Time to turn up to every game for number seven," you murmured quietly to Anton, watching him roll his eyes in response. But apparently, it wasn't whispered with enough silence.

A cough coming from beside you immediately made your smile drop, an awkward smile made its way to your face to try to diffuse the momentary embarrassment. You turned to glance at the stranger slightly. The hat he had on shielded most of his face, especially when he was staring down on his phone, it only made it harder to make out his identity. Has he been listening all along?

Wait. That hat.

The same hat with the letter 'J' sat on the stranger's head. The one that was on the man you encountered (punched) the night before. Could it be …?

You didn't think much of the guy next to you, not when he was busy with his phone and hiding his face away from you to figure out anyway. Once the game started, your attention had been averted to the ice and all of the moving figures on it. The roaring crowd left you in awe, it seemed the players, too, were basking in the limelight and trying their very best in scoring.

The first two periods had raised the tension in the arena. You, and everyone, including Anton and the guy next to you, had jumped out of your seats too many times. The stranger was the most passionate amongst the bunch in your area. Shouting tactics and cursing at every missed chance, he might as well be the coach.

The nearly scored goals were too much to handle. You got the adrenaline of watching the team play against their rivals with such ferocity, joining the crowd in every 'ooo' or 'ahhh'. Soon enough, you finally understood the passionate love Anton had for the sport.

"See? Hockey is fun," Anton sat back down after the second period was over and the short break commenced, the scoreboard displaying the current leading scores of the home team.

"Yeah, yeah, I take it back," you waved him off dismissively, hating his shit-eating grin that screamed 'told you so'. You turned away from him to avoid that exact expression, gaze drifted up towards the jumbotron instead, spotting an interesting sight. "Hockey games have this?" You pointed up at the screen.

'KISS CAM'

Written in bold pink, cursive font, it was almost like a slap to your face. Look, you've seen this everywhere online, those clips of people being on kiss cams, but to think you're going to be witnessing it in flesh, that's new. You weren't going to be the victim of it … right?

"Oh, the kiss cam? It's a frequent thing they have here. It started off as some charity thing but people loved it so they made it permanent,"

"I can see why they love it," you mumbled, watching the screen panning to a pair that was caught off guard, the rest of the crowds cheering for them once they shared a kiss.

One thing about paranoia was that it's either just a bugging anxiety or a premonition that your gut had. For you in that present situation, it was the latter. Your paranoia foreshadowed your biggest nightmare.

Your conversation with Anton in that moment had distracted you completely from whatever that was happening. That was until you heard the crowd cheering and saw Anton's widening pupils, you soon realised something was up, something not good.

The camera of that kiss cam had its focus on you, but unlike what you predicted, it wasn't you and your best friend that occupied the screen, it was you and the stranger next to you. Speaking of him, he was staring directly at you, the hat was tilted back a little more to reveal his face. The shock of the kiss cam couldn't amount to the shock you had when the man's identity was revealed. It was him. The guy you punched.

The darkness of the club had hid the beauty of his face, the hat itself was shielding you away from the entirety of it. No matter what, you could still tell he was attractive, very attractive. That alone caused your anxiety to increase ten fold. The minor bruise beside his eye was questionable, but the bruise on his nose was easily recognised.

The matching shock in his eyes slipped away, an amused smirk replaced that initial surprise. "It's you again. Not punching me again, eh?"

"Stop staring and kiss already!" A voice yelled out from the crowd before you could respond, followed by a chorus of agreements.

You hate people.

"Are you okay with me kissing you?" The smooth, yet unexpected accent that rolled off his tongue caught you off guard, it was something you just registered despite the multiple times he spoke to you, but you nodded nonetheless. As he leaned in closer, the features on his face magnified, becoming clearer. His eyes were a shade of muddy brown, plump lips pulled into a slight frown and thick eyebrows furrowed. The last thing you expected from him was his hand making contact with your face, the smoothness of his palm cupping your cheek, everything was happening in slow motion. "I need your words, sweets,"

"Kiss me,"

That was all the stranger needed to hear to pull you into the kiss. The softness of his lips melted on yours, moulding it to fit against yours. It was just like a scene brought alive from the movies. The cheers from the crowd was deafening, but the sound of it soon tuned out.

It lasted almost a few more seconds longer before the stranger pulled away, the look of bewilderment evident in his eyes. You were stunned, and so was he. Thankfully, the kiss cam was no longer on you two, instead finding another pair to target. By then, you were still trying to compose yourself. He broke into a smile, one that was so sweet it actually made your heart skip.

"Wow," he breathed out, scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment.

"Wow," you echoed, falling back onto your seat, feeling a set of watchful eyes from your best friend, who you knew was probably holding in a laugh on your right.

The last period of the game concluded a win for the home team. Everyone was left in high spirits. You, in particular, were feeling the same way but due to different reasons. Before you could utter another word to the guy you kissed, he was already making his way out of the stand and left no traces behind for you to follow. Was he cinderella? Well, there goes your potential soulmate. No, you were being delusional.

It was rather embarrassing to admit that you were actually disappointed. Not mildly, but by a lot. Considering the past encounter you had, you expected the guy to initiate some sort of conversation, yet he fled without trying. He didn't owe you anything, but the small hope you had internally was, undoubtedly, crushed.

"You're telling me now you're sad because of some guy?" Anton snorted loudly into the night as he walked you back to the dorms. Obviously, he started off by laughing at you, then asking for everything as if he wasn't making fun of you in the first place.

"He's not just some guy," you grumbled. "He's cute and a good kisser,"

"So you just want to kiss him again?"

"Hey!" You landed a firm slap on Anton's shoulder, earning a loud yelp from him. "I mean, a little but I just wanted to know who he was. He's that guy I met at the club,"

"Oh really?" That piqued Anton's interest, his eyebrows flying high, lips then turning into a flat line. "I guess that's the beauty of kiss cams. Kiss a stranger, or in your case, kiss and punch a stranger and live with that memory forever," he shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

"You're horrible,"

Your grumble only pulled a snort from him. "Plus, I thought I could help identify him but the way he wore his hat basically hid his face, how am I supposed to tell who he was?"

"I can," you pulled a doubtful frown, wondering if you even remembered his face entirely, speaking of which seemed a little hazy in your memory. It was the shock that made everything a mush, you blamed it on the anxiety and panic. "I think,"

"You think?" Anton practically snickered at your poor choice of words and the lack of conviction in your tone. You, yourself, were equally unconvinced. "Good luck finding your prince charming, princess."

His shout of laughter was quickly drowned out by your string of thoughts. You genuinely needed that luck, because how were you going to find him again in the sea of students that roamed the campus? You could almost feel the ghost of his lips on you, and you swear you're not just ovulating.

Good luck in finding him, indeed.

Turning up to the next game wasn't because of player number seven that initially caught your eyes, nope, not at all. Pathetically so, you were actually hoping to bump into the guy you kissed. Call it fate or something your delusional mind would end up concluding.

Anton managed to bag you and him front row seats, meaning a closer look at the players and a nearer distance to the rink. How did your best friend successfully pull tickets out of his ass? You had no idea but you're not complaining either.

"Don't tell me you're looking around for the guy," Anton caught you in the midst glancing around the area, a rather desperate glint in your pupils giving it away.

"I'm … not," you said unconvincingly, flashing an innocent smile at a doubtful looking Anton.

"Sure you're not," he mumbled, crossing his arms. "How can you even recognise him? Okay, what if he doesn't have his hat on and he's bald, then what?"

"I know for a fact that he's not bald, thank you, there were hair strands peeking out under his hat,"

"Hair cap, it's on Amazon,"

"Please shut up."

The topic of your mystery man eventually dissolved into debates of the oncoming hockey game that was about to start in a while. If you told your past self that you'd be turning into a hockey fan, you'd probably laugh out loud. But, there you were, character development going great.

There was still a handful of time before the warm up, so you took the opportunity to slip away and out of the stands to locate the restroom. You passed some familiar faces, course mates or mutual friends, but none of which were the guy you were searching for.

Being a new fan came with a disadvantage: not knowing the place well enough to tell which way led to the restrooms. You walked down the corridor, passing the food stalls and countless students, looking like an absolute fool.

By the time you finally located one from a distance, you were stopped by a voice coming from behind. All it took was a tap on the shoulder for you to turn your head, quick enough for a momentary whiplash upon meeting the person's eyes.

"Hey,"

It was a man dressed in a formal suit, a backpack hung on his shoulders. He was tall and lean, but muscular enough to have an athlete's build. He could almost fit the hockey players there. But there was something about him to you that seemed familiar, yet you couldn't put an identity to the face.

"Hi. Do I … know you?" You said, uncertain, though you knew you shouldn't be.

The man before you cracked a small smile, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. He shook his head, probably in disbelief, but there was also a mix of amusement. "No, not quite … yet, but you do know how I kiss, and I know how you punch, so that makes us something, right?"

Pause. It clicked. The hat wasn't there on his head, and he was not bald. That proved Anton something, but he had made a point that you had to admit was right. You forgot how the man that kissed you looked like.

Hat guy. Kiss cam guy? Wait, first punch guy—

"Wait, you're—"

"See you," he let out a laugh, shooting you a wink, purposefully not giving you the chance to fully realise his true identity. Annoying asshole. Just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone with the wind. The initial shock only bloomed bigger, going through several stages of it. The times you prayed for his appearance led up to this moment just for it to pass by quicker than expected, rather underwhelmingly you must add. You didn't even manage to get his name!

Begrudgingly, you made your way back to your seat after the long journey to the restroom. Luckily, the warm up hasn't started and you got to mull in your own disappointment for the time being. The smell of fresh popcorn and corn dogs only made you sink into your seat further.

"Got something flushed down the toilet? Why do you look so sad?" Anton caught onto the frown you had displayed absentmindedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The one that got away,"

"Katy Perry?"

"No. The guy, my guy, I saw him just now and he said 'hi' but left after saying that, what's he in a rush for?" Your questions didn't have a concrete answer to them, but Anton sure knew how to provide some bullshit answers.

"To get away from you, maybe,"

"I'm giving everything in me to not stand up and strangle you right now."

The players of both teams were soon filing out onto the rink for warm ups. The players of the home team were easily recognisable to you after that first memorable game. There was number seven, the captain, the ace, all of which were standing out to you amongst the rest. However, an additional number five that you didn't see prior was standing with the team. His back was facing towards you, the number five sitting comfortably on his back under 'JAEYUN SIM', presumably his name.

"Who's that? Number five. Didn't see him last game," you pointed out to the frequent game goer, Anton, who pursed his lips, nodding slightly.

"That's Jake Sim. Defender. He got suspended for the last game since he committed a foul during the game before the last one. It was quite a scene,"

The players were skating around the rink, moving the puck as they went, shooting goals into the nets as practice. Given the clear view of everything before you, you got the chance to put your focus on player number five, Jake. The speed he was going kept you away from seeing his face, the headgear was only an additional deterrent.

Your curiosity only heightened everytime he passed, the urge to stand and knock against the glass, but that would just get you into the blacklist without doubt. The focus you kept on him was insanely intense, you wondered if he could feel you staring considering the next time he passed your section, turned his head, making a second worth of eye contact with you before skating off.

That split second had the gears in your head running. His eyes were familiar, not to mention, that face … It was him. The one that got away. And he was on the ice? As a player?

Everything made sense now. He was suspended last game which totally explained why he was sitting next to you, and that led him to kiss you and you realised he was also the same person you punched. All in one go.

By the time warm ups ended and the match was about to begin, you were able to finally swallow everything you just processed. The look on your face paired with your anxious finger taps against your lap caught Anton's attention.

"You're finally getting the pre match hockey fan anxiety, huh?" He nudged your side, startling you a little from your train of thoughts.

"No," you breathed out, eyes still trained on the rink that players were currently filing out on. Anton raised his eyebrows at you. "I found out who my guy is,"

"What?" Anton snapped his head to fully look at you now, widened eyes scanning your shock ridden features. "Who is he? Is he some guy that shares the same class as you?"

"He's the one skating on the ice right now—over there," you nodded towards the rink where players were taking their positions. Anton's eyebrows only furrowed at your lack of sufficient information.

"You're fucking kidding. Which one?"

"Jake Sim, it seems," your eyes strayed to the defender that wore the number five, upon the whistle blow, he skated off and you were left wondering. "See? He's not bald,"

"Not the point," Anton snorted, sounding nearly amused and astonished. "You punched him and kissed him all in two days? That's genuinely a meet cute,"

"You're insane. If anything, I'm just hoping he's not filing a restraining order against me,"

"Dude, he willingly kissed you and went up to you just now. I don't think that man wants a restraining order, maybe something more," he started wiggling his eyebrows, smirking playfully at you. You wanted to wipe that look off of his face.

"Dream big, Anton, dream big."

Dreaming big was definitely what the team did in order to secure another win. Jake Sim had thankfully kept his fouling records free so far, and from what Anton mentioned, it seemed Jake has a knick for getting into fights on ice while being the opposite off ice. A man with a stark duality does sound interesting.

The team lingered on the ice after the win, making rounds to bask in the victory and greet the crowds in exchange for their endless support. You watched as the captain approached your side, calling out for Anton and waving at him.

"You know him?"

"How'd you think I got my front row tickets? We're literally party bros," he shrugged nonchalantly while your mouth dropped at the fact that he left you such crucial information. "Which means, I can set you up more easily with your man and we're also getting free booze at the after party,"

"There's an after party?"

"There's always an after party,"

The unexpected part of the night after several surprises along the way was Jake skating towards your side of the crowd, just as Heeseung did. You thought he was doing the same as his captain by greeting everyone, but you knew it wasn't exactly that when he pointed at you, eyes trained on you specifically. It was one of those moments where you looked around and went 'me?' rather embarrassingly. Your genuine confusion made him laugh and he beckoned you to come close to the glass that separated you from him.

You obeyed, casting Anton a reluctant glance, but upon seeing his excited expression, you knew he was egging you on. It was weird, seeing Jake up close this time knowing who he was, unlike the previous encounters, this was definitely a lesser odd one.

'Catch' he mouthed multiple times until it clicked for you, the puck in his hand telling you to watch out. He threw it over the glass and lucky you, your catch was as good as his throw. Jake didn't say much, all he did was point at the puck that was in your possession, smiling sweetly before waving you goodbye and skating away to join the team.

You glanced down at the puck, pupils blown at the sight before you. It wasn't just a puck, it was one that had his number written on it in white marker ink, writings all messy but still readable. 'Text me -Jake :)' was what he signed off with, the lopsided smiley face got a snicker out of you.

"Look who's a true fan now, getting a puck and all," Anton got up to join your side as the crowd started dispersing now that the game was over.

"I didn't just get a puck alone, I also got one step closer to him," you waved the puck in front of Anton's face, grinning pridefully.

"I guess Cinderella's about to accomplish her search for her lost lover prince charming."

Anton truly had a way with his words by convincing you to go to the after party with him, claiming you'd reconnect with Jake and somehow a spark would happen between you two, whatever rant his delusional self came up with. To your dismay, you actually believed him. Not that it wasn't completely untrue since the hockey team would always turn up, but to approach him with everyone around when he's literally a known figure? You might need a couple of shots beforehand first.

You eventually saw Jake and the bunch of hockey players file into the room as the hollers and cheers got louder for them. Pressing yourself closer to the wall, suddenly intimidated by the strong concentration of testosterone filling the room. The constant thoughts of finding the guy you kissed and punched didn't prepare you to legitimately talk to him instead of just daydreaming about him.

As if on command, you attracted the player's attention like a moth to the flame. Anton had disappeared off to somewhere, you were left alone in a corner minding your business and playing tetris on your phone when you felt a presence behind you.

"Boo," The presence confirmed itself and you turned around, too fast till the point where you gave yourself a whiplash, in complete disbelief at the thought of him being there.

"Hey," you breathed out, resisting the urge to back into the wall behind you. This was not the time to start being nervous around a man.

"You didn't forget me this time, right?" Amusement flashed across his face at the mention of your blunder from earlier. You knew it was something he wasn't going to let go easily.

"Of course not,"

"Well good. I'm Jake, Jake Sim. Engineering major and a part time hockey player," he extended his hand out, waiting for you to accept, which you did, casting him a small smile.

"Impressive. What are you? Spiderman? Living with two identities?" You joked, his confidence absolutely taking you aback. "I'm Y/N L/N, nursing major,"

"Let me guess, you minor in punching?"

You scoffed, but laughed. "How did know? I suppose yours is kissing strangers that punch you!"

He snorted, shaking his head, the banter between you and him flowing ever so naturally. It was almost as if you two had been friends since the beginning. "I'm just playing. I'm glad to see you again, I'm sorry I didn't stay back after the game that night. I guess adrenaline got to me and I raced away to find the boys only to realised what a dumbass I was to not ask for your number,"

It was hard trying to hide your shock that he was apologizing. You didn't even expect an apology from it, let alone prepare for it. Yet, the explanation from him set your worries and overthinking to rest. "It's alright, you didn't owe me anything. I'm glad to see you again too. Congrats on the win," you were more than just glad.

A smile made its way to his lips at your words, to him it was hard resisting against a smile when it came to you. He barely knew you, yet you had a charm to you that he was not immune to. "I hope that puck was a good move,"

"It was smooth, definitely caught me off guard but it worked on me,"

Relief was evident on Jake's face, but he played it off coolly. "It didn't strike me that you're a hockey fan,"

"Well, I'm not exactly one, but my friend is and he's the reason why I'm there,"

"Who's your friend?"

"Anton,"

"Anton?" Jake repeated his name, visibly surprised. "He's your friend?"

"You know him?"

"More than just that. How come we've never met?"

"I'm just as confused as you are. He was literally next to me that day where we—you know—appeared on the kiss cam,"

"Really? I didn't see him!"

"Well, that's because your hat practically covered half your face, I couldn't fully recognise you too. He didn't know it was you either," you snickered at the mention of his famous hat that was burnt into your memory by now. "I only found out today that he was friends with Heeseung,"

"He's friends with all of us," Jake chuckled, mostly in disbelief. What was Anton doing hiding all his hot, attractive hockey friends? He wasn't just a fan, he was friends with them. "He loves hockey, so when he found out we played for the school team at this random party, he started coming to cheer for us. Sometimes we would watch his swim tournaments too,"

"What?" You gasped, finding it surprising that you had done the same, except never once had an encounter with the group. "I went to a lot of his swim tournaments too!"

It had rendered both you and Jake speechless, the two of you staring at each other with a look of starstruck filled gazes. All this time, had there been an invisible string that tied you two together? The thought was pushed to the back of your mind as you and him laughed after a pause of silence.

"No way!" Jake exclaimed, laughing in between.

"I'm serious! I don't know how we've never come across one another before,"

"Maybe it wasn't the right time, so fate set us up in a more … unconventional way," Jake said with a hint of playfulness that you caught on. You snorted at the realisation, knowing the incidents were something he was going to hold over your head for a long time.

"It's better than not at all,"

"You're right," he said softly, gaze dropping down to sweep over your body just to come back to meet your eyes once more. "I want to see you more actually, not just at my hockey games or some one time thing. Can I bring you out on a date? What do you say?"

"A date?" You didn't expect Jake to immediately whip out the date card, expecting him to take it slow and build up to a date that you would eventually expect. There was something in you then that invoked a sudden confidence to say such things. "I'm not just some girl you can easily score dates with,"

Jake's lips curled into a small smirk. It was his turn to be surprised and rather amused by you pulling out a surprise attack card, purposely playing hard to get which he caught onto instantly. "What can I do to score a date with you?" He wanted a challenge.

"Show me that you mean it. Earn me," you were gladly setting up something testing for him. "One week. Then I'll decide,"

"You know how to play, L/N," Jake shook his head, but didn't shy away from it either, brazenly taking it on with his head held high. "Just wait, I'll prove it to you. By the end of the week, we're going to be on a date,"

"I'll be waiting for you to swoon me over, Sim."

Jake bit back a smile, ideas already churning in the back of his mind as the both of you moved onto other topics. He was going to win you over, he was sure of it. The first step of breaking the ice had been done, now it was onto getting you, the girl he had unknowingly fallen for after unfortunate encounters that he believed to be fated.

Despite the many difficult games Jake played in or the countless troubles he faced on and off ice, for the first time in ages, he was actually challenged, and he was going to overcome it to make you his.

"You scored yourself a man?"

Telling both Wonyoung and Anton about Jake at lunch was equally comical and confusing. Anton was the one who knew the whole timeline while Wonyoung needed a lot of catching up, resulting in many back-and-forths in the conversation. In the end, you finally reached the conclusion with both fully caught up.

"Well, yes but not officially?" You didn't even know how to put it.

"Y/N wants a yearning man, that's what," Anton snickered, earning a firm slap on the shoulder from you, though you didn't deny.

"You never told me you were friends with Jake too! Or with the whole hockey team," it was your turn to point fingers at Anton, staring accusingly at him.

"Last time I checked you weren't interested in hockey and jocks," he shrugged, which you couldn't deny wasn't entirely wrong. "Plus, I didn't think it was necessary,"

"They're his party friends," Wonyoung added, earning a guilty eye roll from Anton.

"Okay, pause, they're more than that. They even came to my tournaments, but that's not the point. Look, honestly, they're the last people I'd set you up with," Anton threw his hands up.

"Are they really that bad?"

"They're not bad, they're good people, just … the single ones tend to have more fuck boy tendencies as cliche as it sounds," Anton clicked his tongue, leaning back into his seat. "You know, when you're hot, single, and a quite known collegiate athlete, girls are going to be chasing after you,"

"Great, now I have to think about him being perceived by other girls," you muttered, supporting your chin on your palm.

"But he only has his eyes on you now," Wonyoung interjected immediately, trying to salvage the originally sweet and romantic scenarios of Jake. "He wants a date with you and he's going to go out of his way to prove that he deserves it. It shows enough that he's serious about you,"

"Yeah, don't let my words get to you. That's just a general idea people have on them and their romantic lives, but you have a chance to find out the truth," Anton tried his best in mending the cracks of your perception, realising he probably said too much for your own good. "Worst case scenario the date flops, you can just ghost him,"

Wonyoung narrowed her gaze at him. "Shut up, Anton."

The rest of the day consisted of classes that got you away from your friends' constant bickers and distracted you from the thought of Jake. Not to be that overthinking person that you were, but to know how Jake was perceived probably crushed the small idea you created of him. You shouldn't have even created the idea in the first place, but a crush was a crush no matter what, wasn't it?

"What's got you so deep in thought?"

The owner of that voice which startled you appeared before you as you walked out of the lecture hall, completely in a daze until the man you couldn't keep out of your mind somehow read your ongoing thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, finding yourself standing face-to-face to a smile that radiated the sun's energy.

"Hello to you, stranger,"

"Stranger? You wound me," he joined your side almost immediately as you picked up your steps again.

"Hello, Jake," you corrected lightheartedly, resisting a smile once his laughter reached your ears. Is it normal for someone you barely knew to have such an effect on you?

"Hello, Y/N," he greeted back, going along with whatever that's happening. "You're really pretty today,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, though the tightening grip of your hand on your bag strap betrayed your nonchalance. "You say this to other girls?"

"Only to the ones that punch and kiss me, which is none, other than you obviously,"

"Real charming, Sim," you chuckled, nudging his shoulder with yours, eliciting a playful giggle from him. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm walking you back to the dorms," he said nonchalantly in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Don't you have classes? Wait—how did you even know I was here?" You turned to stare at him, both puzzled and shocked.

"I had classes, but that doesn't mean I can't free up my time to come find you, no? And don't worry, I've got an insider," he winked, and by that, you knew it could only be Anton that served as his insider.

"You didn't need to, you know?"

"I do want to though," Jake slid his one hand into his pocket, glancing at you briefly. "You might think I'm just doing this for the sake of earning a date but I honestly just want to see you,"

You blinked, eyes softening at his words. Looking at him was the only reaction you could get out of yourself, not knowing what to do or say. You failed to even realise your heart had skipped a beat.

He smiled at your reaction, shaking his head slightly. "Don't take me so lightly, sweets," he said rather lightheartedly, but genuinity lied in every letter. You still needed to wrap your mind around the fact that Jake was actively chasing you.

"You're doing that thing again,"

You snapped out of your thoughts, curiosity flooded your features. "What 'thing'?"

"The thing where you seem to be caught up with your thoughts," Jake had completely read you like a book, way faster than any of your friends had. How? "You know what, let's stop by that bakery first for some sweet treat to clear your mind. How does that sound?"

A sincere, sweet smile spread onto your face, the slightest of nods as a response as you tried to compute a sentence without malfunctioning. "I'd love that." I love you. Too soon, but God, you just had to put that out there somewhere even if it's in your head.

You let Jake whisk you away to the bakery, then back to the dorms where you held onto him until it was ultimately a few seconds too long to be just a casual hug. The momentary silence after was filled with your quiet smiles, followed by hushed goodbyes that trailed past your door, leaving you in a lump of mush whose heart was beating too quick for your own good.

Was this how liking someone felt? Well, it was something to be discovered as you failed to come to terms with it just yet.

Somehow, Jake knowing your class schedule and coming to your lecture hall at the end of each day became something you didn't question eventually. The shyness from both sides melted with every encounter, soon the space between you and him seemed to become smaller, and your bag would be on his shoulder instead. It was unimaginable how quick you and him got along in a short period of time as if you had been friends since the start.

"You didn't come to the game yesterday," Jake pointed out rather sulkily, flashing you those signature puppy eyes that you learned in a span of three days was actually just a trick to milk some pity.

"Jake, it's a school night. Why is the team even playing twice this week?" you deadpanned.

"Who says you can't have some fun on school nights?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly at you just to be shot down by your blank stare. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm convinced your appearance is pure luck for our team,"

"Now, what BS are you trying to use to convince me to go?"

"It's not bullshit! The last game we played that you didn't come to resulted in a near loss. We were lowkey shit. The times you were there, we were somehow the next contending NHL team,"

"I think that's just a coincidence," you poked his arm, shaking your head in pure disbelief.

"To me it isn't. Come to the next game, and to the pregame party with me on Friday,"

"Pregame party?"

"It's this party we have once in a while—you know what—it's actually almost before every game, but as I was saying, a party,"

"Full of jocks?"

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. "Not only jocks, Anton will be there too,"

"Wow, like that's any better," you said sarcastically, knowing your best friend was the worst party goer to be with. Despite his shy personality and persona, all it took was one cup of alcohol to get him absolutely buzzed and become the opposite of his usual demeanour. That explained why he would usually ditch you though it was unintended. Wonyoung then became your party partner in crime, you suppose Jake was now trying to make a spot for himself now.

"I won't get drunk, I promise, I won't even touch a single drop of alcohol. I'll be by your side the whole time. It'll be a good opportunity to meet the guys too," he raised his eyebrows expectantly at you, the smile on his face persisting. He could tell you were conflicted. "You do the drinking, I'll do the driving, how about that?"

"Modern day romance, cute," you snickered, gradually letting the feeling of FOMO get to you but you also wanted to actually hang out with Jake. "I'll go,"

"Great—"

"No funny business," you pointed an accusatory finger at him, to which he reacted with a mock salute, flashing a satisfied grin.

"Absolutely no funny business." He reaffirmed, the sparks in his eyes increasing by tenfold. "I'll be by your doorstep at 8 sharp."

Jake was a man who stuck to his words. He was, in fact, on your doorstep at 8 PM that night, ringing the doorbell a minute earlier until you swung the door open to reveal yourself, already ready to leave.

"Hey,"

"Hi," you greeted back after a second's pause, stepping out to close the door behind you. "You're on time,"

Jake pulled a face, following your pace as you two started making your way to wherever Jake's car was parked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You shrugged, pursing your lips. "My past dates never came on time,"

"Well, they suck and I'm glad it didn't get serious because you deserve better,"

You took a glance at him, smiling at the way he had his eyebrows furrowed, looking as if he was mad on your behalf. "I have you now,"

It took a couple of seconds for it to dawn on Jake's face. Watching his features twist and morph upon realisation had you giggling deviously. "I'm your date? Are you calling this a date? What—"

"Come on, let's walk faster." You looped your arm around his, pulling him along and giving him zero chances to collect himself as he tried to dissect everything happening. He didn't question it further once you two got into his car, only a faint smile remained on his lips all the way there.

You practically clung onto Jake almost like a koala bear upon entering the threshold of the frat house, reminding you of why you barely go to parties in the first place. "How about you do all the socialising too?"

Jake threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. It was an odd feeling when you noticed people having their eyes set on you and him, the hockey star player with just some girl. "Come on, the guys will love you,"

"I have social anxiety,"

"That's too late to confess now," he gave your shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze. "We can leave anytime you want,"

"Really?"

"Really. It's not about me tonight, it's you. Plus, coach will kill us if he knows we're at another one of these parties, so I'm saving my ass while we're at it,"

"You're an idiot," you snorted, but all he did was mirror your smile without your knowledge.

Out of all the things you've witnessed at this party, you found the most fascinating thing was Jake knowing practically everyone there. Every person he's passed by would greet him or he would be the first to greet them, the popularity of his was evident.

Never in a million years would you be able to predict the fact that you would meet the school's hockey team, let alone Jake himself. You were too used to seeing their tiny figures skating around on ice that when Jake brought you up to his friends, you had to blink a couple of times.

"Hey! Oh—you're the one that gave little Jakey a kiss," Heeseung's attention immediately turned to you after Jake introduced you to his small circle of friends.

"Dude!" Jake swatted Heeseung's shoulder, the reddening tips of his ears gave himself away.

"I'm Y/N," you casted a pointed look over at Jake while you introduced yourself to his friends, shaking some of their hands and letting them give you a half hug. Anton was amongst the bunch, occasionally nodded over at Jake to purposely tease you.

The amount of drinking games the circle of hockey players pulled you in was admirable even for a person with high tolerance like you. There were wins and losses, by the end of the night, you could barely stand on your two feet. Thankfully, your personal chauffeur and date was there for you to lean on.

"I want to see you around more often," Sunghoon drunkenly pointed over at you. "Jakey, don't hide her, okay? She's lots of fun,"

The rest hummed in agreement and Jake reassured them he'd do so before saying his last goodbyes of the night. His attention was now fully on you as he tried his best to get you into his car, somehow managing to also safely drive back to your place and guide you into your dorm.

"I'll go in myself," you protested against him as you crossed the threshold, his hands holding onto you firmly.

"You can barely walk properly, Y/N,"

"I'm just a little drunk," you defended, earning an amused snort from Jake who was entirely unconvinced by you. He eventually set you down onto the couch, wandering into the kitchen area and you didn't bother questioning, not when he came back with a glass of water.

"Here, drink," he handed you the glass of water that you downed in one go. You expected him to leave right after, but he didn't seem to be going anytime soon from the way he stayed glued to his spot next to you. "You alright?"

"I'll manage," you reassured, knowing how your roommate was going to have to put up with your hungover state the next morning. "You should go and get some sleep, you're playing tomorrow,"

"You're right," he stood up, though seemingly reluctant as he stared at your tipsy state. "Are you going to be okay alone?"

"Yes, I'll be! Now stop nagging," you followed suit to stand up, holding onto his arms for slight support. "I'm back home safely thanks to you and that's all that matters. Now, you, home, sleep, okay?"

Jake threw his head back, biting back a smile that was threatening to make its way to his face. "Okay. Who's the one nagging now?"

You pulled a look, punching his shoulder softly in a lighthearted manner. "Whatever," you murmured, excusing the rate of your heartbeat picking up. "You need to rest to score goals,"

"Goals? Why are you suddenly talking about goals?"

"I want to see you score,"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, an imaginary light bulb flashed bright as an idea did in his head. "And if I score … will I get anything out of it?"

You caught on immediately, rolling your eyes with an incredulous smile. "Maybe an answer to a certain question,"

"Are you raising a bet with me, L/N?"

"Am I? It depends if you're up for it, Sim,"

"I'm always up for a challenge. A goal, a date,"

"You have my word."

Jake was soon out the door, your figure leaning on the doorframe for support as you bid him goodbye. "Good luck for tomorrow,"

"My heart will be at peace knowing you're going to be there. Come find me after the game … which I will score in,"

You stifled a laugh at his response. "I will,"

"Great, I'll see you then," Jake couldn't even hide his excitement from the way his face beamed. He acted nonchalant by shoving his hands into his pockets. "Goodnight,"

You smiled, "Goodnight." It was a daring move, but you took the chance of him being completely caught off guard to swiftly press a kiss on one side of his cheek. You didn't allow him to process this before closing the door, hiding the shade of burning scarlet on your cheeks.

Were you crazy? Yes. Were you starting to feel something more for Jake? Definitely.

"So … you and him are officially in the talking stage?"

It was the first time Wonyoung accompanied you and Anton to a hockey game. Her lack of interest in the sport didn't fathom neither of you, all you two needed was extra emotional support. So, now you were stuck gossiping instead.

"Something like that," you shrugged, eyes automatically landing on said talking stage who was warming up on the ice. This time around, Anton managed to score some good seats, though it wasn't front row, it was still considerably close.

"'Something like that'? Dude, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and you guys wouldn't stop texting, you're literally advancing at this point," Anton crossed his arm, shifting in his seat.

"You did what? Since when did you get so bold?"

"Since I got drunk. I swear I wasn't in my right mind,"

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, or in your case, drunk actions, that was probably what you've always wanted to do," Anton chipped in, earning a nudge from you.

"And you still haven't given an answer to that date yet? It's been almost a week and it's the weekend already," It was Wonyoung's turn to cross her arm and stare accusingly at you. Guilty. If only they knew the secret bet you had with Jake too.

"Don't worry, I've made up my mind," you, in fact, officially did make up your mind the night you went to bed screaming into your pillows at your action. It was a blessing he hadn't intruded on your dreams or else you'd be doomed.

"Well, what is it?" Wonyoung egged on, but all you did was smile deviously at her.

"I'll tell you after I give him my answer, but I think you'd already know it."

There was no mistake that Jake had spotted you in the crowd multiple times. The first time he glanced over, you thought it was a mere coincidence, but when there was a second, third and fourth time, you knew it wasn't. You didn't miss that lingering smile on his lips each time he spared a glance in your direction. If he kept going on, you felt your heart was about to burst.

The first period started with a bang. It was barely a few seconds in when the home team already got possession of the puck, Jake playing a big role in it. As if on cue, Jake was the one leading the possession, swerving past the opposition's defence line. Before you knew it, the puck was at the back of the net, a goal by Jake was scored under a minute.

Naturally, you and your friends jumped out of your seats in celebration. You, however, were hiding a bark of laughter once you remembered the bet you made with Jake. He really had something to prove to you, didn't he? To rub it into your face much more, Jake just had to skate past your section and purposely blow a kiss at your direction.

It wouldn't be Jake if he didn't have more tricks hidden under his sleeves, which explained why in another minute, a second goal from him was scored. At that point, you were both shocked and amused, realising how you should probably not second question his determination and dedication to securing a date with you. Two goals in two minutes, there was no denying his utmost desperation was apparent.

The first and second period soon ended with the home team leading. It was a pretty laid back game all thanks to Jake's contributions, so once the third period came around, everyone wasn't on the edge of their seats as much as before. It didn't excuse the surprises that continued to ensue time after time, the next one included Jake.

The clock was ticking and the atmosphere was gradually getting intense. The sounds of hockey sticks clashing into one another to win over the puck was loud, the home team succeeded in taking possession. That possession was soon passed onto Jake who quickly speeded past the oppositions. In a blink of an eye and a swift movement of his hockey stick, the puck was in the back of the opposition's net.

The crowd in the stands erupted into shouts of joy, pieces of popcorn flew into the air, drinks were flying everywhere, but nobody cared. You and your two best friends jumped out of your seats at once, shouting and hollering madly. The team on the ice was equally high on energy too, every player was jumping on Jake, but there was no mistaking his eyes being trained on you even if you were a distance away.

You expected him to turn away right after, but he never averted his attention on you. In a place full of people, you felt as though the lights were focused on you and him only. The camera zoomed in on him which was displayed on the jumbotron screen showing his smiling face, only then he turned his gaze onto the camera, blowing a kiss. This action managed to get many screams, but what came next was unexpected. He held up a gesture with his hand and it was clearly the first letter of your name.

Jake turned to look back at your direction, showing the letter of your name gestured by his hand proudly. Just from seeing his beaming expression, you found yourself smiling too, unable to resist his charms till the point where your friends were staring at you dumbfounded at the side. Frankly, no man has ever made you smile this way, ever.

"Did he—" Anton glanced at Wonyoung who looked back at him with a rather nonchalant expression compared to his confused one.

"Dedicate a goal to her? Yeah," it was something everyone could see, even if they didn't know you personally, they'd know Jake was dedicating it to a specific someone. "I wish a talking stage of mine would do this too,"

Anton shook his head. "Dream on, Wony."

Once the game was over, you sent him a text to meet you at the same location you bumped into him, aka somewhere along the food stalls. You took your time hanging around with your friends until you got a response back saying he's on the move, until then your friends decided to leave first and you were left with multiple 'good luck's from them.

Thankfully, by the time you got there it was mostly empty and there wasn't any crowd, because the last thing you needed was someone overhearing. It didn't take long for Jake to arrive after you did. His hair was still wet from the shower, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Hey," he said casually, stopping right before you. "I didn't keep you waiting, right?"

"Nope, you didn't," you shook your head, pursing your lips. "Great game, by the way,"

"Thanks," Jake's hand travelled to the back of his neck, a small tinge of red making its way to his cheeks. He was shy, especially since you were inadvertently hinting at the celebration that came after the goal.

You smiled, but the nervous habit of fidgeting your ring betrayed your rather nonchalant expression. It wasn’t supposed to be something so scary, yet it’s a much needed step in your talking stage with him. “Yes,” That wasn’t exactly how you wanted to execute it, here you were making a fool out of yourself instead.

Jake tilted his head to the side in confusion, almost looking like those golden retriever puppies you’d seen online. “What?” If it wasn’t for your shamelessness and determination in that moment, you’d have already ran away from the embarrassment.

“Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you. That’s my answer and also a part of our bet,”

Jake’s lips parted, the initial confusion morphed into surprise which he soon fully digested and that realisation resulted in the biggest smile that crept its way onto his face. You couldn’t help but find his reaction endearing, laughing softly. "Nice goals,"

"Thanks. Does that mean I get three dates now?"

It was easy to laugh around Jake, there was something freeing and warm about his presence. There was a feeling you experienced only with him, you didn't know what it was, but you wished to be able to have it all the time. "Take me out on one date first then we'll decide,"

Jake laughed quietly, looking away to avoid your eyes, because to him, one more glance at you was about to make his heart burst in nervousness. It took a few seconds for Jake to gather his composure back. He was the complete opposite compared to the person he was making that bet with you, shy and cheeky, unlike the confident and suave person he was from that night, the stark difference was what warmed your heart.

The obvious giddiness of his was eventually masked by an attempt in casualness. "I–tomorrow, seven, I'll pick you up,"

"Sounds good,"

"Great. Amazing," Jake mindlessly said, unable to take his starry eyes away from you. It looked as if Jake was completely enamoured by you from the way he stared at you with fascination. Whatever was going on between you and him then, it was some kind of love that was undeniably innocent.

Almost in a single blink, Jake snapped out of it, somehow being self aware as a shade of pink painted his cheeks at the realisation of his own thoughts. "It's getting late, how about I take you back to your dorms?"

"That'd be great, thank you." you suddenly felt shy under his gaze, the thoughts in your mind were yelling at your heart to stop beating so quickly.

Under the bleak night sky, you and Jake made your way back to your dorms with the stars as an additional companion. For the first time in forever, you found yourself wishing the night would never end and the road stretched further just so you could listen to his laughter for another minute. Falling in love was scary, but realising it was another story.

"It's been three hours and you still haven't made up your mind yet?"

Calling Wonyoung over and having her help you in getting ready was actually just her seeing you entering your demise as you overthink every little single detail. The outfit you chose had been changed over and over again till the point where Wonyoung was exhausted just by watching you do so.

"I haven't been on a date in ages, cut me some slack," you groaned, sitting down on the edge of your bed in defeat. "Plus, I think what's different about this date compared to the others is that I actually like him,"

"You—what?" Wonyoung practically scooted over in a hurry to join your side, purposely looking at you in shock.

"What?"

"You admitted it. You never do, amd it's only been a week,"

"Didn't need you to call out my emotional avoidant issues but yeah, I do like him. Well, not like 'like' him, confession kinda level yet. It's getting there but I think there's probably a chance," you sighed in defeat, basically raising your hands up in surrender, liking someone could be ever so thrilling but also an emotion filled rollercoaster. "He's sweet, genuine, funny, cute, everything a girl could ever dream of, it's no surprise how he's so easy to love. But I just hope I'm not another one of the girls in his roster,"

"Hey!" Wonyoung nudged you hard in the ribs, you sat up straight, head snapping to see her disapproving frown. "You're not, okay? I doubt he even has one from what I heard,"

"What?"

"I did some digging and from what my sources claimed, he hasn't been seeing anyone since his last break up, which was over a year ago. Not like the ones on his team, okay? They're fucking everywhere and he's been practising celibacy, alright?" Wonyoung's reassurance might've been slightly lighthearted, but it still held a certain weight to it. "Don't think too much. Are Anton's words getting to your head?"

"Well, no, but you already know my traumatic experiences with guys like him," by that you meant your exes and past dates, who were coincidentally friends of Anton's and the reason how you got to know them in the first place, also explaining why you doubt your best friends' judgement at times. Dating in the 21st century was tough. "I'm just saying. It feels too good to be true,"

"Or maybe it's because he likes you for who you are. You're you. Don't care about him being some hot shot hockey player, in the end, he's the one who wants a date with you."

You replayed Wonyoung's words as you waited for Jake to turn up at your doorstep, the clock ticking close to seven. As much as you had a great time getting to know him throughout the week, you couldn't help but have doubtful thoughts. He was Jake, the star player of the hockey team, there were probably many girls on campus dying to be in your spot right now.

Maybe Wonyoung was right, Anton's words were getting to you. You shook the badgering thoughts from your mind once you heard the doorbell ringing, all of the doubts disappeared the moment you opened your door to see a nicely dressed Jake Sim, who had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Jake stared at you, his eyes sweeping over your body, lips parting in what you think was awe. The black dress Wonyoung picked really was the best choice it seemed. "Wow," he breathed out, pressing one hand on his chest. "You look like a dream,"

If what people described as having butterflies fluttering in your abdomen was exactly how you felt when he said that, they were probably right. You could feel the heat rushing up to your cheeks, painting them a light shade of pink. It was cliche, something typical a man would say, but somehow when it came to him, it had an effect on you.

"Thank you. You look handsome too," you smiled at him, momentarily getting distracted by the first few buttons of his button down shirt that was undone. It was most likely on purpose, wasn't it?

"Thank you," he bit back his smile from becoming wider, then raised his arm which held onto the flowers. "I got you flowers,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, both pleased and surprised. It might've been a simple act, but it was certainly a way to your heart. "You really know how to charm me, don't you?" You accepted them and quickly ran to place them on the counter, mentally noting to store them away later.

"I have my secret ways to get to your heart," he slipped his hands into his pockets, watching you make your way out and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. "And today, there's going to be another one that will lead me there,"

"I'm intrigued."

The car ride was quite longer than you had expected. It was a good thing that the whole journey wasn't filled with complete silence. Here and there, either Jake or you would tell the other about something going on in your lives, sometimes even the most random things too. The occasional silence wasn't awkward at all. With him, you realised the silences were always comfortable, as if his presence was what made everything reassuring.

The car eventually came to a stop at a building. You prayed it wasn't some shady building you were about to get abducted in, but knowing Jake, it should be the complete opposite of so. He held the door open for you at all times, even the car door, such small gestures made you smile secretly and your heart skipping. It was quite a torture, however, for his hand to brush against yours but never once intertwining. Maybe it was because he didn't wish to go against your boundaries and you were also too shy to suggest it, so either of you were left being stuck in agony hoping the distance between would disappear.

The elevator reached the top in no time. You were rather relieved, the tension in the whole journey up was palpable. It was obvious the both of you were aware of it, the only problem was no one dared to act on it. From Jake's frequent glances and his intense gaze, you knew his hand was itching to reach out for yours.

You were surprised at what Jake had planned once you stepped out of the elevator and into a restaurant with open air. It was a rooftop dining restaurant. Jake didn't bother to hide his knowing smile even as the server led you both to a reserved table.

"Dinner and sunsets," Jake smiled cheekily at you, seemingly looking proud of himself and the idea behind this location.

You narrowed your eyes at him lightheartedly. How could he have known that this was an ideal date of yours? "How did you know?"

Jake paused, then he shrugged, feigning casualness that you knew was the opposite of his true feelings currently. "I have my sources," Anton. Again.

You snorted at the common phrase you've grown to understand, shaking your head at the thought of Jake constantly pestering your best friend for information. Yet, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. Knowing Jake would frequently ask your friends about you and your likings showed his efforts. Plus points.

"I've never had someone put this much thought into a date with me before,"

Jake's gaze softened following your words, the littlest of the edges of his lips curled upwards. He let out a small endearing laugh and looked down a second to hide it. "I just hope you'll get to enjoy this date to the max. It's all about you after all,"

"Of course I will! The restaurant's amazing, the view over the city is too perfect. The fact that we'll get to watch the sunset in a while too? Ten out of ten,"

"I'm glad. You have no idea how much panic and anxiety I had planning this out,"

It was your turn to smile, the image of Jake being all panicked asking Anton to try and plan a perfect date was absolutely fitting to what you expected. "I wouldn't mind even if you took me to a seven eleven to eat cup noodles together if it meant we got to spend time together,"

You didn't know what it was exactly hidden behind Jake's expressions. He was resisting the urge to smile wider, the look of appreciation and adoration flashed across his eyes expressed otherwise. "I guess that's going to be our next date. I still have another two, don't I?"

"I don't remember that being in our deal exactly," you tilted your head and felt your heart beating with an increased tempo, accepting the effect he has on you by now. "But I don't mind seeing you more actually. Maybe I can promise you more than two dates,"

A look of relief was evident on Jake's face, he smirked in disbelief at you almost causing his heart to stop thinking you didn't want more than this one date. He was wrong, so wrong to doubt you. "Scared me for a second, thought you wanted this to be your one and very last date with me,"

"How could I? The restaurant's not the only reason I'll enjoy this date, you know? It's because of you," you averted your eyes away for a moment, suddenly scared to meet his gaze and the intensity of it. "You're the main reason, Jake,"

Once your confession had escaped your lips after holding it in for a suffocating amount of time, you realised you were not only professing something that was blossoming, but also gradually opening up to him, being completely honest and vulnerable while speaking your mind. It was odd. You've only known him for a week, but it was the most you've ever felt for a man you were romantically involved with. Maybe the part where he kissed you before you even knew one another played a role in the speed of your feelings' development, but you rather not come to terms with that.

There was another side of you which bugged you negatively. You had a feeling falling so fast for somewhere could eventually lead to a dismay. Some of your friends were evidence you could attest to, the amount of tears shed onto your sleeve was enough of a memory for you to recall. It was also a lesson on not moving too fast that you learnt. Were you going to get your heart broken?

But, the heart does want what it wants. You were a victim of listening to your heart over your head, and so were your friends who would tell you the same continuously. Seeing the man opposite you being completely stunned at what you said made the thoughts in your head panic. Oh God, did he not feel the same? Were you the one moving too fast and misreading the room instead? You turned away to look at the view of the city as a way to avoid his gaze, your heart feeling as if it was about to explode at any minute.

The view before you was exactly what you were feeling at that moment. The golden orange mixed with a pale pink painted your emotions of a complicated longing and attraction towards Jake, the softness of the colours were exactly how you felt for him, adoration and affection. "Pretty," you said mindlessly as you watched the sunset.

Jake followed your sight to take in the beauty of the sunset over the city, smiling to himself before turning back to look at you, taking the chance while you were paying him no mind. If only you could see the amount of pure fondness in his eyes which travelled to the corners of your face under the reflection of the orangey pink sunset. "Pretty,"

In that exact moment, it was a scene out of a movie and you weren't even aware of it. The hidden intimacy of it all was something you couldn't find reciprocating with someone else. That was mainly because Jake wasn't just someone to you.

You pushed the whole load of thoughts going around in your mind to play a little game of twenty questions with Jake. It was probably not the best idea, but it was also a convenient way to get to know someone. You soon learned that Jake had a dog back in Australia and he played football before getting into hockey, which explained why he held onto the jersey number five for a long time. His favourite colour was black, spring was his favourite season and that grape was his favourite flavour. There were many occurrences in which you and Jake yelled 'me too' in between the things you two revealed about yourselves. There was one out of many you two shared a belief in: love at first sight.

You were surprised at how compatible you and him were. There were slight differences but also a lot of similarities between you both. Maybe it was fate for you to find someone that fits you like a puzzle. Throughout the dinner, everything was going smoothly with nothing but laughter and interesting conversations to go with your food. That was until a foreign voice came towards your table.

"Jakey!" The familiar voice you've encountered once during the party came from behind you. You could tell by the smile faltering from Jake's face that he was not happy with the appearance of this person. Actually, it wasn't just one, there were multiple.

"Jaeyun!" There came another and soon the three stars of the hockey team appeared by your table. At first, their attention was all on Jake, their precious best friend and teammate. But judging from Jake's death glare, they only got the gist once they noticed your presence there, taking them a second to process everything.

"Hey guys," you greeted with a pinch of uncertainty, but you wanted to be nice and it would be rude not to greet them.

"Y/N," they acknowledged you in unison, their glances going back and forth between you and Jake. "Looking good," Heeseung added, followed by a hum of agreement from the other two. This only earned a sharp jap on the side from Jake.

"Thank you," you covered your smile with your hand, the urge to burst into full blown laughter was getting strong.

Looking at the knowing smirks appearing on every one of their faces, you knew all of them were sharing the same amount of brain cells which had identical thoughts. "Are you guys on a … date?" Sunghoon, the rather cheeky one, was the first to ask.

"Yes, we are, and you guys are crashing it," Jake narrowed his venomous eyes at his best friends, his gaze were enough to convey a message: he was going to strangle them to death after the date. "Why are you guys even here?"

"Well, Heeseung kinda overheard you asking Anton about a good restaurant or something like that, then he told Jay and Jay told me, so we thought it'd be nice to check it out on the same day you're going," Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, realising how awkward this whole situation was.

At that point, Jake was rubbing his temples as if his head was about to burst at any second. The three hockey players turned to look at you for help, to you, they were almost like three helpless puppies who were about to be scolded. "We're sorry," Jay immediately gripped the other two by their shoulders, "and we're going to get out of your hair now. Enjoy your date, bye!" He rushed his words out then instantly dragged Sunghoon and Heeseung away, their hushed whispers audible until they eventually disappeared as a whole.

You turned over your shoulder to see their retreating figures until they were completely out of sight. You had to stifle your laugh as you turned back, seeing Jake shake his head before he met your eyes, cracking a small and rather embarrassed smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't know they were going to appear,"

"You don't need to be sorry. I think it's funny they made a sudden appearance and it definitely took me by surprise—in a good way. Plus, it's cute they came here wanting to join you thinking you were alone,"

The initial annoyance and embarrassment melted from Jake's expressions, he smiled with full genuinity, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, it was,"

You leaned your front against the table, placing your head onto your palm for support. "So, you asked Anton about me, your 'source'," you began carefully, "how long has it been going on?"

Jake flushed a light shade of pink that matched the hues of the sunset from earlier. He let out a cough then masked it with a lopsided smile in embarrassment that you had caught him straight on. "Ever since I found out you were friends,"

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning at his truthful confession. "I figured,"

"You did?" He tilted his head in curiosity and surprise. You supposed it was normal for some men to be oblivious.

"It's not hard to catch on, Jake. I only have two close friends," you poked light fun, though in reality it was pretty much the truth and you were not going to talk about that.

"Two close friends? What about me?"

You shrugged, surpressing the laughter that was on the edge of escaping your lips. "Well, yes, but you're more than just a friend to me,"

Jake's eyes lit up, a twinkling sparkle decorated his pupils. However, his playful grin said otherwise. "Best friend?"

"Get out."

Other than the cameo of Jake's friends, the rest of the date has been relaxing and calm, going smoothly as you continued on with more jokes and throwing fun facts about yourselves. The person you saw on ice was a contrary compared to the one sittinf opposite you. Although he was much rougher and aggressive on ice, even till the point where it landed him several suspensions, you knew he wasn't like that. He showed you his true, softer side with nothing but honesty and trust. There was only mutual respect and truth between you two, that was how easy it was to be with him.

By the time you got back to your dorm room, it was already past midnight. Time was no longer a concept when it came to being with Jake. Neither you nor him realised how late it was until the servers told you they were closing soon, being completely immersed in each others' presence and conversation to even pay attention to your surroundings. Jake had walked you to the door of your dorm room, the exact spot where he probably stood knocking your door earlier.

"Thanks for tonight. I don't think I'd ever forget about … everything. The sunset, your friends—" you smiled at that moment when Jake snorted when his friends were mentioned, "and you,"

The grin he had on his face faltered a little, his eyebrows raising and head tilting slightly. "Me?"

You couldn't tell him the truth. The sight of him with the sunset was when you realised your heart was feeling for him more than you could control. It was as if your heart was speaking for you. The hues of the evening sunset painted his face with a slow glow when he was watching it unfold before you, it was then you looked over at him and felt your heart stop. He was beautiful, his smile was something you wished was embedded in your mind even when you closed your eyes.

Instead, you hid the truth. "You put so much effort into planning this whole date till the point where you asked Anton about me. I'm grateful that you cared this much, it's something I'll never forget,"

The smile on his delicate features only grew wider, the light tinge of pink was making its way to his cheeks. "I'll never forget about this too, our first date. I never knew I could feel this way,"

"What way?"

"In a way where I feel too much, and I feel like my heart is about to burst at any moment just watching you," Jake bit his tongue, stopping himself from letting all his inner thoughts pour out and overwhelm you, the last thing he needed was you running into your dorm and never see him again. Little did he know you would do the opposite of that.

"I feel the same too," it was your turn to confess your truth. From the looks of Jake's reaction, that was probably the last thing he expected as a response which reciprocated his thoughts. You couldn't help chuckling softly at his expressions, he was definitely someone who had a rich set of reactions for each situation.

"Do you want to know what I think we should do next time?" There was an edge of humour in his tone, you didn't know what he was going to say next. You narrowed your gaze at him, particularly at the way he said it. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yeah, why? Is it something dirty?" You scrunch your face up, shooting daggers at him.

"It's disgusting," he punctuated, pausing for a few seconds after. "I think we should go on another date sometime, go bowling or whatever, get some ice cream,"

The glint in his seemingly mischievous looking stare met the roll of your eyes. He snickered at your reaction and you almost punched his shoulder out of spite. "You idiot," there was no chance of you hiding the growing smile, "I'd love to. It's a no brainer,"

Jake smiled in relief, breathing out a sigh. "I'll hold you to it," he snapped his fingers. There was a short pause, realising something shifted in the air ever since the moment you and him both confessed each of your inner thoughts.

You took the chance to divert the conversation away in an attempt to make everything less awkward. "You should head back already, it's late. Thanks for driving me back. I'll text you, okay?"

"Right," Jake said rather mindlessly, the gears in his head seemingly turning and still stuck on the conversation a few steps back.

"Goodnight, Jake," your hand was on the doorknob, giving it a twist to open your door, but you didn't walk in just yet.

"No goodnight kiss?" Jake said teasingly before you could even take a step past the threshold. The slight raise in his eyebrows and the smirk on his face was what made you recalled Anton's words of them having fuckbiy tendencies. Well, there was that side of him.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Nice try, I'm not intoxicated this time, Jake. Maybe I'll give you one on our next date—just maybe," you sent him a blowing kiss, which he caught as you closed your door shut, the sound of his sweet laughter was audible enough for you to feel a smile mindlessly making its way to your lips.

You hoped this would never end. The feeling of overwhelming joy, the giddiness as if you were a teenage girl all over again, the pure emotions of liking someone. All of this, you wished it would have a fortunate outcome.

Days turned into weeks where weeks turned into months. The time you've known Jake was no longer just a week, but months now. During those months you've spent together, there were countless of dates he brought you out on. Amusement park, cinema, ice skating rink, roller skate rink, the list of location went on and on. At that point, there was nothing but transparency between you two given the amount of time spent with each other. He wasn't just becoming your best friend, but also someone your heart was yearning for. By then, all your negative overthinking thoughts from the first date had completely vanished. Wonyoung was right, you thought too much.

Over the months, he has been proving to you that he was just a loser in disguise, you were saying this with full affection, of course. The initial fuckboy reputation that everyone claimed him to be just because he was part of the hockey team proved the complete opposite. He was probably a victim of rumours, stereotypes and generalisation.

"Aim better!"

It was one of those weekends reserved for date nights between you and Jake. It was a little something special that you and him shared. This had become a tradition before you even realised. The bowling alley nearby became the talk of the conversation about your next date not long before and here you were now, beating him while he continued to sigh in defeat.

"I am! You can't just say that while you're here winning. How are you so good at this?" He was gripping onto the bowling ball tightly, his eyes trained on the pins ahead of him. "I didn't know there was this side of you. You should consider a career in bowling," his aim definitely didn't land right when all he managed to do was knock two pins down. "I give up,"

"Don't be a sore loser here," one throw of the bowling ball from you showed Jake your true talents when every one of the pins came knocking down.

He turned to face you while still standing in his own lane, hands on his hips with a look of disbelief and admiration. "You know what, that's probably one of the hottest things I've seen,"

You screwed your face up, letting out a snort. "Your switch up is crazy,"

Jake threw his hands up in mock defence, shrugging. "Hey, I might've not win in bowling but I did win here with you by my side,"

Him and his words. He sure knew how to work them to his advantage and make you flustered. You turned away from him to hide your grin, the bowling ball in your hold suddenly feeling ten times heavier. "You're such a tease, Sim,"

He picked up a bowling ball too, contrary to his claims of giving up earlier. At your response, he laughed lightheartedly, giving it a few seconds before speaking again, as if to let everything soak in. "Just speaking the truth, sweets."

The next and last location to end the night of competitive bowling was the ice cream shop down the street. In classic Jake style, he got the flavour with the most complicated and weirdest name out there just for it to be chocolate, whereas you got a simple strawberry flavour. Strawberry and chocolate, a match made in heaven which represented you and him coincidentally. How cliche.

Amidst the silent exchange of reactions to each of your ice creams, Jake placed down his cup after taking one small scoop. "I have something to propose,"

You paused, glanced at him with suspicion before halting your actions completely. "What is it?"

"Be my plus one for Sunghoon's birthday party,"

You displayed some apprehension. "Is it some crazy frat party like the one you brought me to last time?"

Jake let out an amused sounding snort, then shook his head. "The opposite—"

"Thank God," you breathed out a sigh of relief.

Jake, however, looked rather offended. Maybe because the party was his hockey team's pre-game party. "Hey! The party I brought you to wasn't that bad,"

"It's the most beer and shots I've consumed in a night. I would say I'm lucky for having a solid tolerance but I'd also rather not think about the morning after,"

Jake smiled at that. You didn't know if it was simply because you brought up a past memory or that memory reminded him of your certain actions that night. Either way, you didn't miss his sly smile. "Okay, okay. There's no frat parties at all for Sunghoon's birthday, don't worry. We're going to throw a dinner party at our place and that's all. Pretty simple,"

Your face lit up at the idea of a birthday party, contrasting the look you had minutes ago thinking it was going to be another party with sweaty frat boys. "Wait, that's actually so cute. Count me in,"

"Really?"

"Really. When is it?"

"Next Saturday,"

"You know exactly when to pick me up."

It wasn't even Saturday yet when Jake turned up on your doorstep unannounced in the middle of the week. He had an unapologetic smile, a bouquet of fresh flowers in one hand and a box of donuts in the other. The confusion on your face to the unamused stance you had while staring at him was enough of a response on your part. Look, you liked Jake, but whoever ruins your sleep at nine in the morning was not an exception when it came to you cursing them out.

"Is this a courtship or a bribe?" You leaned your side against the doorframe, doing anything but inviting him at that moment.

"Both?" He shrugged, the awkward twist of his smile told you he had an explanation ready,

"Come in," you moved your body away to let the starry eyed Jake in, a certain plan he had concocted was soon to be revealed. "Had breakfast yet?"

"I did. But I know you haven't had breakfast, so I got you donuts," he nodded at the box in his hand, then raised his other hand that held onto the bouquet. "And flowers. I know the last one I got you is wilting," he pointed over at the vase sitting on the counter, the previous bouquet he got you on your date was indeed slowly wilting. How did he know? You didn't ask that.

You watched Jake's movements as he set the box and bouquet down onto the table, standing in a stance which reminded you of your mother when you were in trouble. "What brings you here at nine in the morning on a Thursday, Jake? I thought you had practice and I thought I would have extra sleep,"

Jake flashed you a sheepish smile, rubbing his forearm out of habit. "That got cancelled, so I wanted to take the chance to run an errand I've been holding off. This errand, however, requires your help,"

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "My help? What could it possibly be?"

The question you asked was answered when Jake drove you to a mall nearby. Turns out, he didn't know what he should get for Sunghoon's birthday, which was just in a few days. Not to mention, they were anything but prepared for the party. So, a trip to the mall with your guidance was a way to lessen Jake's bundle of worries.

"You said Sunghoon needed what?"

"A new bottle of aftershave," Jake trailed off with a hint of uncertainty, but also some embarrassment.

"Right," you nodded slowly, scrunching your nose up at the choice of gift Jake wanted to pick out, but alas, he knew Sunghoon better than you did so who were you to judge? "What else?"

"I already ordered him a Mitch Marner jersey, so I think that's all? Oh—I need to get him this thing,"

You were puzzled, but at that point, you didn't wish to question his interesting choices of a gift. "Which is?"

"A penguin plushie."

It seemed this gift was something Jake had in mind for ages as he found his way with no fault to a toy store and knowing exactly which aisle to go to in search for the penguin plushie. With a bottle of aftershave, a penguin plushie and a soon to be delivered hockey jersey, that was Sunghoon's gift from Jake. Next on the list was party decorations.

"Do you know what party decorations we're supposed to get?" Jake said with uncertainty as you walked past aisles of colourful decorations, only getting overstimulated by the bright colours and overwhelming amount of choices to choose from.

"I've done many things but a birthday party? This is a first," you sighed, grabbing some tinsels that got approval by Jake with a nod of his head.

"I blame them for putting me in charge of decoration. I want to get the cake instead," Jake sulked rather pitifully next to you, and instead, you snicker silently, which was received by a huff from him.

The trip to the mall ended with a bag of gifts and another bag full of decorations. Maybe you and him went a little overboard on the decorations, but Jake justified that it's reusable—well, except for the letter balloons which spelled Sunghoon's name.

Jake and you stopped by the small apartment he shared with his friends before dropping you off back home. It was probably your fourth time entering the apartment he lived in and it was also the fourth version of the house you last remembered. There was a new painting, several pieces of furniture shifted, and a whole lot of laundry stacked on the couch.

Not that you were intimidated by the ever changing interior till the point where you didn't drop by his place compared to the times he came over to yours, it's just the last time you were here, the memory wasn't quite a favourable one. Let's just say, it was another recreation of your first date where the three of his friends joined your supposed movie date, but there was something they lacked that time around: self awareness. That only resulted in you and Jake cuddling rather stiffly listening to three of them rambling about the movie's theories.

"Thanks for coming along with me today," Jake held onto a chair once everything was set aside, the two of you standing close to the door and being the sole presence there at that hour.

"It's no problem. I'm glad I could be of help even though I'm pretty sure you already had everything in plan, didn't you?"

"I'll look stupid if I admit that this was a plan to just get some time with you, won't I?" Jake slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing at the floor for a second with a small smile. "I genuinely needed your input, though. I'm sure the party will go well with your opinions,"

"It better go well, or else me getting woken up early and also getting bribed will all be in vain," you said in a lighthearted manner, eliciting a quiet laugh from Jake, and because of that, you were unable to resist a smile creeping onto your lips. "Trust me, I look more stupid for willingly sacrificing my sleep so that I can let you pull me into whatever scheme you have,"

There was a mutual spark that lighted in between. The weight of both yours and Jake's words carried something more than you had anticipated. It was evident that there was a change of atmosphere in that room, in that split second. Realisation clicked at the end of your sentence, both by you and Jake.

The momentary silence was broken by Jake. "I can't seem to find my words, but I know what my heart wants,"

You inhaled a small, sharp breath, eyes flickering. "What is it?"

"To kiss you,"

You shouldn't feel nervous, right? That was what you thought then but whatever you were feeling was betraying your thoughts. Was he going to kiss you? No, he was holding back, and that was obviously torturous not only to him but you. You wanted him to kiss you. "Then do it. Kiss me,"

You've never been braver until this moment. Never in a lifetime would you have expected those words to leave your lips. Congratulations to Jake for being the first man to get you to do so, but God, you were going insane and you were lucky your knees hadn't given out.

Jake took a step closer to you, his hands were by his side now. The steps were daring, testing the waters. You gave a green light by staying unmoving, the quiver of your lips were a sign of anticipation and anxiety. It was happening. Your official first kiss with him. An actual kiss after months.

At that point, he was standing so close to you, you could almost feel his breath on your face. The cologne he wore daily filled your senses, his warmth you got used to was giving you a quiet assurance like a hug. He could just kiss you now if he wanted to, but why couldn't he? Maybe he was taking his time. He was staring all over your face, as if memorising every little detail of it.

The moment his palm made its way to your cheek was when you knew you were far too deep to escape. You ignored the quickening pace of your heart and the wobble in your knees, then closed your eyes and waited with hope.

It never came. The feeling of his lips never touched yours. Instead, the sound of the front door bursting open and the shouts of several familiar voices came crashing into your reality.

"We're home!" The voice belonged to Heeseung, seemingly still unaware of everything. "We saw shoes out front—oh," realisation.

It was then you snapped your eyes wide open, pushing yourself away from Jake before you could form any coherent thought. Jake's expressions matched the one you had on your face: panic and shock. You stayed staring at each other for a few solid seconds until you figured you were, in fact, not dreaming of the voices and that his friends were actually standing there.

"I—were we—did we—interrupt—" Jay stuttered out, the horrors on both his and Heeseung's faces would've been comical if only you weren't stuck in this situation yourself.

"No!" The word escaped both yours and Jake's lips at the same time, in the same tone and manner. You turned to look at him and he did the same, then you faced his friends again.

Jake heaved a sharp breath, pupils shaking visibly. "Well, I was just about to grab my keys to drop Y/N home," he snatched his car keys from the table without thinking twice, the awkward tension in the room was suffocating.

"Yeah, we were about to leave …" you trailed off at the lie you made up. Nope, you weren't about to leave, you were about to kiss Jake. Oh, Anton and Wonyoung were going to love this story.

"Should we…?" Jake glanced at you, the red lights practically blaring in those pairs of brown eyes. You got his cry for help and nodded, because you, too, were calling out for help internally.

"We should, yeah, we definitely should. I'll see you guys at the party." you waved a quick and stiff goodbye then grabbed your stuff, following Jake out the door. Only when you were outside wearing your shoes, you got the chance to breathe out a breath of relief. You didn't know what was about to happen in that house or after Jake returned, but all you could guess was them being as panicked as you were.

On the drive home, it was rather quiet. Whether it was the lasting awkwardness from earlier or the avoidance of the topic, you didn't know. You could feel his occasional glances at you, yet he didn't dare to act on it and somehow, you felt disappointed after every one of them.

You thought by the end of the drive, you'd be silently leaving his car with no words exchanged. However, Jake wasn't one to leave it at that, nor was he someone to let you go that easily. He grabbed onto your hand before you could reach for the handle, halting you in the midst of your actions.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he let go of your hand from his hold as you sat back into the cushioned seat of his car, the flickering of his eyes gave his nervousness away. "I can't believe it happened again,"

You cracked a small, humorous smile at the mention of you and him getting interrupted for a second time by his friends. At that point, you believed it was just fate that intervened. "It's okay, Jake, really. The timing wasn't perfect, I suppose, and I get it,"

"Maybe," he hummed, unable to take his eyes away from you, which only made you want to sink into the seat further. He couldn't just do that after almost kissing you! It's not fair. "I'm frustrated,"

"At your friends?"

"At my friends, and at the fact that I couldn't kiss you,"

He was bold. It was something you never got used to, having no prediction of what he would say next. This was one of them.

"Yet," you added quite daringly, looking away to hide the shyness you were suddenly feeling.

"What?"

"You couldn't kiss me yet," you repeated, this time a little more confident than a minute ago. "There's always a next time, isn't there?"

Jake let out a small chuckle, throwing his head back slightly, the reddening tips of his ears betraying his current calm demeanour. The simplicity of your optimistic words made his heart jump at the unrelenting chances of another try. Second time could go right, can it? "Yeah, and I'll make sure there's no interruption during then, just the two of us."

You were thankful you declined Jake's offer of walking you up to your dorm room. Having him beside you in his car when he uttered those words so nonchalantly almost made you lose your mind. Even after you entered your room, you still felt the lingering feeling of his lips just like a ghost. Closing your eyes, you could almost feel his warmth around you swallowing you whole, the touch of his hand on your cheek burning.

Lying in bed, you thought of him the whole night as if he had infected your mind. It was then you realised what you felt months ago was different compared to now. Your feelings for Jake was no longer some simple crush, attraction or liking, it was something deeper. You liked him, but it was a kind of feeling where you felt yourself giving your heart to him with no doubts, the stars in your eyes only shining brightly for him. He was your universe.

God, how did you end up here? You had fallen deeply and helplessly.

On the evening of Sunghoon's birthday, you, Jake, and the rest of his friends along with some of their partners spent the last bit of time finalising all of the decorations before the birthday boy's arrival.

The near kissing incident with Jake was eventually swept under the rug. Maybe it did for you and him, but you could tell from Heeseung and Jay's faces that they were still suffering from the embarrassment when seeing you. You had a feeling Jake told them off after getting back that day.

Other than that, you were more relieved nothing was awkward or stiff between the two of you. Everything was well and the preparations for Sunghoon's birthday busied him enough to get his mind off the embarrassing yet intimate moment. The time you spent with him throughout the whole fiasco of planning did some salvaging.

"Do you think he'll like this colour?" Jake was anxiously looking at the time on his watch, noting Sunghoon's imminent arrival. Jay was out with Sunghoon to get him away from the house as long as he could.

"Jake, it's just yellow," you patted his shoulder in reassurance, unable to blame the guy for being a tad bit nervous for the first party he planned for his best friend.

"You're right—I hear his car in the driveway. Guys! Off the lights now!" Jake couldn't even get a single breath of peace when speaking of the devil, Sunghoon was home. He grabbed onto your arm, pulling you with him to hide behind the counter. The others were scurrying for the cake and you were thankful you weren't tasked to handle that.

Even though it wasn't your first time rehearsing this, the feeling of Jake holding tightly onto your wrist, his body pressing close to yours as you squatted behind the counters, all of them were the factors your heart was beating extremely fast. Not because of Sunghoon and the entirety of his surprise party, but Jake.

The heat emitting from his body shouldn't be making you flush red, should it? The scent of his woody cologne was concentrated, the closeness of his face and his obliviousness to it all was the cherry on top.

"I'm nervous," he whispered, the voices outside becoming louder as footsteps approached closer to the front door.

You flashed him an assuring smile, squeezing his hand lightly. "It's going to be fine. You have me,"

The undying spark in his eyes shined even in the darkness of the room. He gave your hand a squeeze back, tugging it closer to him. "I have you."

Jake's hand never left yours even when you and him jumped at the entrance of Sunghoon. Shouts echoed around the room as Sunghoon remained shocked whilst his friends wished him happy birthday. The cake was immediately carried towards him and everyone started singing the tune of the birthday song. All while everything was happening, the hand intertwined with yours was the only thing occupying your mind.

At the end of the night with Sunghoon drunk out of his mind and everyone else too tipsy to function properly, you were one of the few left sober. Surprisingly, Jake was among the few you mentioned. There on the sidewalk of his driveway you sat under the starlit sky, catching a moment of fresh air after the whole day's worth of running around.

"Can I join?" The voice you would anticipate hearing interrupted your daze, glancing up from the sidewalk to see Jake's smiling face.

"Always,"

He didn't say anything more but instinctively sat himself next to you, his shoulders brushing against yours created a spark that neither of you could ignore. There was a short pause of silence where you and him said nothing but just basked in each other's presence. It was one of those times where you communicated through your every microexpressions, barely saying anything audibly but also expressing everything needed.

"I have a question,"

You were the first to break the silence, taking a daring step.

"Shoot,"

"This is going to sound cliche, and a little stupid, but bear with me," you let your curiosity wander this time, maybe it was a spur of a moment feeling which gave you a sense of sudden vulnerability, you didn't know. "Why me?"

Jake turned to look at you. "What?"

"Why—out of many other girls on campus—you somehow ended up liking me and asking me out on a date?" Gosh, you knew how cliche it already sounded in your head, but to say it aloud was probably worse. You were thankful Jake wasn't walking away at the question. Instead, a smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

"It's a long story,"

"Oh God, it's not one of those movie scenes where you tell me it's all a bet and try to win me over after I get heartbroken, right?"

Jake let out an amused sounding chuckle, throwing his head back, a habit you noticed whenever he laughs at something humorous. "What is this? '10 Things I hate about you'? Thankfully no," he gave your shoulder a small bump with his, eliciting a quiet laugh from you this time.

"You might not remember this since it's been a while," he continued on with his story and you grew more curious. "But we actually met before that night you punched me,"

"What?"

Jake knew you wouldn't remember the memory he's bringing up currently, only smiling in response as he gave you a few seconds to process. "It's a little crazy, but we actually met on a Saturday evening. I can still remember it clearly. You were the person who offered me your umbrella on that rainy day when I was stranded outside the library building. I almost didn't make it to practice if it wasn't for you,"

He turned away from you, glancing up at the sky instead, the slight smile he had on his face maintained, never once faltering. "If I have to be fully honest with you, at that time when it happened, I was still quite heartbroken from my last break up even though months had passed since then, but seeing you … I felt something. The biggest regret was not talking to you when you already left, then somehow I found my way back to you,"

Your head was a mess scrambling to piece together Jake's story. Searching in every corner of your mind, you thought back to a rainy day, from there you looked further. The blurry memory of a guy appeared, the vague recollection of a face matched the one sitting next to you. It happened, it actually happened.

"You did," you whispered, your voice audible in the quiet night air. "Maybe there was an invisible string tying us together all along,"

"I usually don't believe in things like that, but for once, when it comes to you, I do believe it," Jake's gaze held a twinkle that resembled the stars on the night sky, his features was soft as he stared at you with a touch of gentleness you've never once seen.

"Can I be honest?" You held onto your breath, the speed of your heartbeat increasing. He was anticipating your words, looking at you expectantly. But you found yourself frozen for a moment. He was pretty, so pretty. Staring at him was enough to get you stumbling over your words. "No one has ever made me feel this much except for you,"

The unbreaking eye contact was intense. Once your confession left your lips, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the air was thick and laced with an electric spark. He was digesting every letter you uttered, the slight surprise morphed into a smile. The corners of your lips automatically followed along with his, stretching into a smile that you didn't know was Jake's favourite.

"I feel the same too," he edged his body a little closer, facing towards you more, all of which went unnoticed by you. "I want to be the only person who makes you feel this much, to make you smile, to make you laugh," he leant in closer, his face being barely illuminated by the street lamp, yet, you could see make out every little feature of his that you memorised. At that point, you knew it was happening, and there wasn't going to be any interruptions. You were determined for it to be that way.

One of Jake's hands reached for yours that rested on the pavement ground, taking it into his and intertwining his fingers with yours. You could read his emotions through his eyes, every detail of his expression told an emotion he was feeling currently. Anxious, but also thrilled. There were the two of you who felt the same at least. Then, he said it, the thought you two were simultaneously sharing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Finally.

You bit back a laugh and proceeded to do something you would've never dared to do until now. Without letting a second pass, you grabbed onto his shoulder clumsily and pressed your lips onto his, shutting your eyes with the feeling of your heart almost escaping your chest.

Would it be cliche to describe the entirety as a breath of fresh air? It took a split second for Jake to actually process your lips on him then only proceeded to kiss you back with the equal amount of gentleness, want and desire. Although this wasn't your first time kissing him given that moment in the hockey arena, it was the total opposite.

The initial shock and confusion disappeared immediately. Jake's hand travelled from the expanse of your cheek and disappeared into your hair. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and Jake took that as a welcoming invitation. Safe to say you were about to think about this the whole night instead of falling asleep.

If there was a memory you wished to experience once more, it'd be this exact moment. The intoxicating touch of his and his familiar cologne scent that ingrained into your mind itself. You felt Jake smiling into the kiss seconds before pulling apart, the feeling of it made you experience overwhelming emotions that choked you, it was as if his smile was imprinted on your lips even after and you were unable to forget about it, instead, you craved it.

No one told you how it'd go down after a kiss. You and him both were there staring at one another in a daze, seemingly thinking 'did this happen?'. Well, it did, and you were reeling from it.

You were sure your lipstick was smudged, not to mention, the red marks left on Jake's lips gave it away clearly. Neither of you dared to move away from each other, keeping the close proximity in between. The loud music playing from the inside of the house eventually became more apparent once you gained full consciousness from the disassociation post kissing.

"I'm glad there's no cameras this time," Jake broke the silence, lighthearted and gentle with his words just as much as his kiss was.

You snorted, nudging him a little with your elbow. "And I'm glad no one walked in on us,"

There wasn't a word exchanged, a knowing look in one another's eyes which you read, and from that, you and him burst out laughing. If it wasn't for the fits of laughter which distracted you, you would've already been exploding from the realisation of Jake keeping your hands interlocked.

"If I have to be really honest with you right now, my heart is beating way too fast for it to be healthy. You're quite literally about the death of me," Jake said, completely stunned as he pressed a hand on his chest. He surely had a way with his words. "I could kiss you forever," there he's done it again, erupting butterflies in your abdomen.

"I'm not entirely objecting to that, so …" you shrugged playfully, meeting Jake's watchful gaze that was filled with nothing but softness and love.

He let out an amused chuckle, squeezing your interlocked hand with his. "I'll hold you to that."

The night eventually ended a little over midnight. It was entertaining to watch the three of Jake's best friends slurring their goodbyes to you, stumbling around trying to keep their balance but giving up and crashing onto the couch. Jake decided to leave them be and drive you back, taking the extra mile to walk you up to your doorstep.

"It was really fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me," you fidgeted with the sleeves of Jake's jacket that was draped around you, the quietness of the night only amplified your voices in the corridor.

"I'm glad you agreed to come and also helped me out on setting this up. I don't think I would've survived," Jake offered a lopsided smile, glancing down at the floor for a moment to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm happy to be of help," you were trying your best to contain your giddiness that was bubbling in your abdomen ever since your lips made contact with his. "I think Sunghoon will love his gifts … well, after he's sober,"

"He better likes it. I spent a shit ton amount of money on that jersey," Jake snorted, shaking his head, seemingly split between regret and indifference. "It's getting late, you should head on in,"

"Right, I should. Thanks for dropping me off, like always,"

"It's alright, I want to make sure you get home safe anyway," his heartwarming words definitely made your cheeks flush a tinge of pink, but you hid it away from him by fumbling with the lock of your door. Just before you could bid him the last goodbye of the night, he stopped you. "You forgot something,"

You tilted your head, eyebrows scrunched into a look of confusion. There was nothing you could think of that you've possibly forgotten. Wait, did he mean exactly what you were thinking of? You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smirk on your face greeting him. "You're so annoying,"

It was his turn to be confused, but unfortunately for him, you didn't take note of that in time and he was left dumbfounded. In a blink of an eye, you pressed a haste kiss on his cheek. Jake thought he was dreaming. Even until then, you were unaware that he was surprised and frozen in shock, or just the plain fact that you and him both had a small misunderstanding.

"Goodnight, text me when you're home!" With that, the door slammed shut on his face before he had a chance to regain his composure and open his mouth to say something. He let out a breath of disbelief, his hand instinctively shot up to the spot where you placed a kiss on, grazing his finger faintly there.

"I mean the jacket." He murmured to himself, still in a daze as he turned around to make his way back.

He meant the jacket.

Sunghoon's birthday party had definitely become a turning point for you and Jake's relationship. Ever since that night, the both of you were inseparable. To your friends, however, it was insufferable instead. But, there was something very big and blaring in front of your face: he hasn't made anything official … yet? You tried reassuring yourself.

"You guys kissed, twice. He's not going to miss the chance of asking you to be his girlfriend officially. It's been almost a year," Wonyoung was pouring a drink that you needed from the amount of thoughts bugging you. Maybe going to a frat party was the least sane option of trying to take your mind off of it. "Think about it, for someone like him, he's surely thought about it before and he's probably planning something,"

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, considering. Wonyoung wasn't completely wrong, neither was Jake entirely dumb. "You're right, I'm probably thinking too much,"

Wonyoung threw her arm around your shoulders, leading you to somewhere less crowded. "It's completely valid, Y/N. I'd think the same. But don't worry, knowing Jake and how he's absolutely whipped for you, you'll be fine."

Will you? Given the past failed situationships you had that led you on to thinking you'd have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas absolutely tainted your view on talking stages. Not that Jake was just a talking stage, he was more than that, more than the ones that did you wrong. But a scar was permanent nonetheless, it's just something you had to live with.

You eventually left Wonyoung's side to search for any bathrooms that were unoccupied, which ended up being a harder challenge than expected. A big frat house with many rooms, yet most of the bathrooms were either hidden away or occupied, just amazing. The narrow corridors were also another nightmare for you having to squeeze past drunk college kids or people making out, you didn't know which was worse. You wondered if your luck had somehow ran out when you accidentally bumped into someone tall, knocking his drink over in the middle of the corridor.

"I'm so sorry!" You reached down to pick his cup up in panic, not knowing who the person even was until you stood up straight, the fog in your brain clearing up for you to realise the person was actually someone you knew. Speaking of past failed situationships, one was unfortunately standing before you there and then. The universe must be toying with you.

"Y/N?"

Nevermind the cup, either of you were too stunned at the sight of one another to really care about it anymore. Song Eunseok. Anton's best friend from the rival school's hockey team, but also your past situationship and talking stage. How did Anton even acquire that many jock friends, you didn't know, neither did you want to.

Anton was the one who set you and his friend up, thinking it'd be a good idea to get you back into the dating scene. Wrong. Turns out, his best friend ended up being a total asshole that reminded you to never trust Anton and his wingman abilities, particularly him and his jock friends. That was also the reason why you doubted Jake at the start, and you hoped you'd continue being wrong about him.

"Hey," you murmured, unknowingly tightening your grip on the plastic cup. What was there to speak about anyway? The thing that happened between you and him ended sourly and it wasn't entirely the best memory for you to sit and talk about. "I'll get going now,"

"Wait," the sound of his voice after years of not hearing it in flesh made you stop in your steps, your eyes flickering up to stare at his face.

"What?"

"You're not going to ask me why I'm here?"

You should be confused, he wasn't around here, neither did he go to your school to mix around with people that did. "I don't care," you answered bluntly, but truthfully, it was already predictable that he's only in town for a game against the school's team, that's all.

He wasn't impressed by your indifference, clicking his tongue as he glanced away for a second. "I heard you're going out with Jake,"

"And?"

He threw his hands up in mock defence, that gloating look on his face was only making it more punchable as minutes ticked by. "I'm just trying to warn you,"

"Whatever it is, I don't care,"

"Really? You really don't care about him being known to switch between girls all the time? How he breaks hearts and plays with girls like you, really?" Eunseok practically sneered, watching the brave front you put on faltering.

"What?"

"Oh, you know, he's got a reputation for himself. A good boy facade with fuckboy tendencies, many girls fall for it, I can't believe you did too," he shrugged, the maliciousness evident in his gaze. "He's probably fucking with you for a while then he'll throw you to the side after, just like every other girls,"

You knew he was lying and trying to get into your head by spewing some bullshit, so why were you letting him do so? A part of you was aware that what he said wasn't true, but the other part of you let his words get the worst of you. It was as if all the horrid thoughts you had pushed into the back of your mind resurfaced and manifested into words that were thrown into your face, more ironic that they were uttered by the same man who was the blueprint of your problems with relationships.

"Look, whatever hockey rivalry you have, I don't care, but don't bring his and my personal matters into this," you backed away from him, wishing the ground would just swallow you whole instead of having to face him. "God, you're still such an asshole after a long time."

The last sentence from you was seethed out of your teeth before you whipped around to speed walk away. The adrenaline and anxiety redirected your attention away from the need to find the toilet, instead, you were searching for the front door in order to leave.

"I need to leave," you gripped onto Wonyoung's shoulder, her smile formed into a frown once her eyes landed on your face, instantly sensing the red flags. "It's okay if you want to stay, I can go on my own,"

"But we took my car, I can't just leave you—"

"I'll find a way, I'll call a cab, whatever it is. It's fine, I'll be fine," you rubbed her shoulder assuringly, though you knew in reality, you were far from fine.

"Are you okay? Y/N, I can leave with you, it's fine—"

Wonyoung realised you were no longer keeping your eyes on her, but you were staring over her shoulder, dread evident in your features. Before she could open her mouth to question you, you were already inching away from her. "I'll text you when I'm home. Be safe!"

Wonyoung was having a hard time keeping her gaze on you and grasping everything in general, she ended up following your line of sight, her frown deepened once it landed on what happened to be the root cause of your panic. Eunseok. By the time it clicked in her head, it was probably too late. You were out the door.

A gush of the cold night air hit your face just as much as Eunseok's words did. They were circling around your mind endlessly, fighting the thoughts of you convincing yourself he was just a liar. But to a certain extent, some lies do have truths hidden in them. Could this be one of the cases?

It didn't help that the memory of what Anton said came flooding in, rubbing salt to the wound. Neither was it the perfect timing for Jake to come walking up towards you, looking ready to start his night of partying.

"You're here!"

His voice broke you out of your trance, your feet halting just in time for his hands to hold onto your shoulders, the biggest smile greeting you. However, this time around, you couldn't bring yourself to reciprocate it, not when he reminded you of all the things you told yourself to not worry about.

"You okay? Where's your friend?" Jake's smile faltered, the look of worry flashed across his face, his grip on your shoulders didn't budge.

You couldn't meet his eyes, releasing a shaky breath. "Tell me it isn't true," your voice came out quiet, the sound of your blood thumping in your system filled your ears. "He's lying, isn't he?"

Jake's face was leveled with yours, shaking your shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "What? Who?"

"You're not going to break my heart too, right?"

"What—Y/N, you're not making any sense. Did someone tell you that? Who was it?"

"It isn't true, right? Those stories of you playing with girls' hearts just like any other asshole would, I … never believed them, so they're lying, aren't they?"

Jake's mouth fell agape, the words that were expected to spill never came, a dawning fall in his expression spoke more than it should've. "It is. It is true," you breathed out, letting it sink in, after all those times of not listening to the rumours of him, it ended up being real. A serial heartbreaker, Jake Sim, how cliche could it be? And how unfortunate for you to attract these types of guys over again. "I'm not one of them, am I?

"You're not, Y/N, never," his hold on you was relentlessly, you only felt smaller as seconds ticked by. "Those rumours were from ages ago, back before I knew you, before I had my break up. It's been years. I realised how much of an asshole I was and I changed my ways. You have to believe me,"

You did, you believed him. His actions over the months told you enough, giving you a chance to build a trust towards him. But after hearing basically a confirmation to those rumours from him and Eunseok, you were split in half, mind in a mess. Eunseok wasn't completely wrong, but you believed he was just trying to get to you with his scathing words, and Jake admitting to it wasn't exactly the ideal cherry on top. It was supposedly the past, wasn't it? Plus, Wonyoung's survey of information about Jake was something much more worth believing than your ex situationship.

"I believe you," you whispered out, choosing to tell the truth rather than making it into a bigger mess. You ran a hand through your hair, releasing a sharp exhale. "I think Eunseok was trying to stir a reaction from me,"

"Eunseok? Song Eunseok? He's playing against us tomorrow," Jake breathed out incredulously, swallowing a string of cusses. "Y/N, forget about him or whatever he said. I admit it, I was like that in the past, back when I didn't know any better. But I promise you, I'll never, ever break your heart,"

You felt guilty, guilty for letting the worst get to you, for putting the blame on the wrong person based on assumptions you made. Jake had always been an accepting person, and you were grateful for that. "I'm sorry for acting this way. I let my fears get to me after hearing things about you from Eunseok and you admitting to them. I was scared you'd turn out to be the type of guys I hated," you paused, taking a chance to breathe in deeply. "I just didn't want to be someone else's second choice again,"

You gave yourself a chance to be completely vulnerable with him, laying all your ugly truths for him. Embarrassed and distressed, those were what describes you at that moment. You hated the way you got heated up over nothing, letting your fears and emotions overwhelm you till the point where you couldn't think straight or rationally. Your mess of a mind was distracted once Jake pulled into his chest, engulfing you into a hug.

"You'd never be a second choice to me, in fact, you're the only one in my life," His hand stroked your head, the side of his face resting on it. "I'm sorry for letting you feel that way, or not being there to punch that asshole square in the jaw. You're not just anybody to me, you're my best friend, my partner in crime, my everything. You don't understand how much and complete you make me feel. I wouldn't replace you for anything,"

The initial shock of the hug melted into relief, his warmth provided a sense of security along with his reassuring words. Your arms wrapped around his body, reciprocating the hug. "Thank you," you swallowed, letting yourself melt into his hold. Minutes passed with no words exchanged, just the two of you holding each other, yet, it expressed much more than words were required. You trusted him, you do, and you knew he wasn't the type of man Eunseok described, maybe in the past, but the present was where you're at currently, you knew he wouldn't try hurting you. You knew him.

The drive back to your dorm was sullen and weird. 'Weird' was definitely a way to put the whole aftermath into words. You had already settled whatever rift there was before getting into the car, but why didn't it feel right at all? You were scared you hurt him, and unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same. This only caused a slight tension, neither of you daring to reach out first at that given moment.

That was when Jake reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and settling the interlocked hands on his thigh. As always, he was the first to mend the cracks. "I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself in the first place. I never knew,"

"I don't blame you. It was my fault for not speaking out on it either. I bottled it up until it got to me. People did warn me about your past, about your old ways, but I trusted you, I knew you wouldn't hurt me," you gave his hand a squeeze, more to reassure yourself. "I just can't believe I let Eunseok get the worst of me,"

"He's just a total asshole. It's okay, I understand, I would've felt the same if I was in your shoes," there was a sigh that followed after. "Actually, what's the relationship between you and him? I never knew you two knew each other. Are you guys … friends?"

"Friends? God no. We're anything but friends at this point," your face twisted into a sour expression, the thought of being friends with a guy like him made your stomach churn in the worst way. "Long story, but Eunseok is Anton's friend, they go way back. Anton being the wingman that he claims to be, he set me up with Eunseok. We were never official, but we were more than just friends at one point. I thought he'd ask me to be his girlfriend officially since everything was going good, but he ghosted me and got with another girl after,"

Explaining your past with Eunseok was another type of reliving the bad memories. The time you spent on that man was not worth it. "Which explained why I became wary of Anton's friends. All the ones he's introduced me to ended up being the same variant as Eunseok, and that also instilled a paranoia when I agreed to try things out with you,"

Jake kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, but his raised eyebrows that were almost touching his hairline was enough to show his surprise. "Wow," he breathed out, seemingly digesting it in. "Are all Anton's friends assholes? Am I an asshole?"

You rolled your eyes at him even if he didn't catch onto it. "Luckily for you, you changed and they didn't. I'm pretty sure most of them stayed the same, Eunseok is basically a living proof of that theory. You and your friends, however, aren't like that from the beginning, which is why I like you guys,"

"I thought you only liked me?" Jake finally glanced at you, among the hint of playfulness in his gaze, there was also a warmth of understanding.

You stifled a cackle, choosing to let out a laugh out of impressed disbelief. "Don't need to be so full of yourself, hot shot."

It was his turn to laugh. The sweetest melody of his laughter had you smiling unknowingly. It was always the simplest things about him that made you happy. You wished for it to stay as such for a long time.

By then, it became a normal habit for Jake to walk you up to your doorstep, neither of you questioned it anymore. This time, however, things didn't leave at the doorstep.

"My roommate's at her boyfriend's place for the weekend," you started, the question which came next was unexpected. "Do you … want to stay over?

A single question to change the whole trajectory of your relationship to develop into something deeper. Jake couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to your offer, his hands were still in yours, most importantly, those pairs of eyes staring back at him made it hard to reject.

There you were, making your way over to your room carefully through the darkness of your living room, passing by the flowers he gave that sat in the vase. There were little parts of him in your shared dorm that consistently reminded you of him and his presence.

Never in a million years would you have predicted Jake being next to you in bed. The stillness of the night air engulfed the two of you, not a word shared, but the intertwined hands between you and him was reassuring. There was nothing else that would have replaced this moment of your back against his chest, feeling the palpitations of his heart as you drifted off to sleep, unaware of Jake's fluttering eyes, sneaking occasional glances at you.

"I'm undeniably in love with you." He muttered against the top of your head as he pressed a haste kiss.

Jake couldn't see you, and he didn't know you were still half awake, listening in on his whisper. There was a smile that settled on your lips, the intertwined hand felt heavier than usual, just as your heart did, filled with an immeasurable amount of love for the first time in your life. What has he done to you?

One bed, two idiots in love, helplessly pining onto each other with an overwhelming amount of love that the other didn't know. Only an imminent happening would be the catalyst for one of you to break.

Having to explain to Wonyoung at nine in the morning that you and Jake didn't do anything weird the night before was a pain in the ass. It wasn't the right timing for Jake to leave just as Wonyoung showed up at your doorstep, an arm outstretched ready to press the doorbell but stopping in motion from the shock of seeing you and him alone in the apartment.

"You didn't leave early yesterday to fuck Jake, right?"

"I didn't fuck him at all," you seethed, glaring at Wonyoung for sayinh that the hundredth time. "I coincidentally ran into him and he brought me home,"

"And … he stayed over?"

"He stayed over," you confirmed, a little more timidly. "But we didn't do anything, okay?"

"Okay," she said as she took a sip out of her cup, an edge of doubt in her voice that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "Enough of Jake. What happened yesterday? Everything wasn't right,"

A sigh left your lips unconsciously, the thought of having to relive the whole nightmare of a fiasco by summarising it to Wonyoung was a dread. If only she could peek into your mind and memories. Nevertheless, you gave her a brief summary of what happened, from A to Z until the part where Jake ended up in your bed (that wasn't exactly how it meant to sound).

"Eunseok said that to you? He had the nerve to say that when he's literally what he's accusing Jake of? The audacity," Wonyoung was visibly fuming, pinching the tip of her nose bridge. "I hope Jake beats his ass today," she frowned, then added, "figuratively, can't have him suspended again."

For the rest of the day, you stayed home with Wonyoung by your side, waiting for the time of the game to arrive. You never knew they streamed the games online until Anton came over to set up the stream, bringing along a huge box of pizza while he's at it. On the couch in the living room, the laptop sat next to the flower vase, the commentator's voice filling the silence of the space.

"Remind me to never set you up again," Anton mumbled through his mouth full of pizza, looking thoroughly guilty and apologetic once you and Wonyoung ran through the whole incident that he missed. "I'll cut him off … and probably a lot of them. But hey, at least Jake's a success, eh?"

Wonyoung reached over to deliver a slap on the back of his head, earning a grunt of annoyance from him. "Don't jinx it, failed cupid."

Seeing Jake on the mini laptop screen was much different compared to actually being there in person. The game was starting soon, you hoped your good luck would manifest into reality too. Each glimpse of Jake only made you both anxious and relieved, how contradicting. It was as if the cameraman knew the tension between Jake and Eunseok, occasionally panning to Jake then Eunseok.

The start of the game was relatively civil. However, there was no denying the ongoing hostility Jake had towards Eunseok. The 'accidental' slams into Eunseok, they were obviously on purpose. There was nothing out of hand just yet, but it was apparent that something would soon stir.

"He needs to calm down," Anton murmured mostly to himself at the end of the second period, the home team drawing with the opposition. You silently agreed with him, watching as Jake's teammates hit his shoulders with some knowing looks.

Third period was when things started getting rough. It wasn't a tense rivalry without the occasional fouls, especially when both teams were stuck on a draw, trying their best to crawl out of the game with a win. Jake stood out the most. His assists were helpful to the team, but given his continuous hostility towards the oppositions, particularly Eunseok was going to cost him something.

The worst and unimaginable that everybody was expecting eventually came to life. The frustration in the atmosphere was felt even through the screen. Eunseok slammed his side onto Jake, but it didn't stop just there. Jake retaliated by grabbing onto Eunseok's collar, ripping his helmet off and throwing a punch across the latter's face. Both men's helmets were on the ground, gloves off and sticks flung to one side.

The whole thing was a mess. Players stopped in their tracks to pull the two off of one another, there was a circle surrounding the fight, doing whatever they could to stop it. Even after they were pulled away from each other, the aftermath wasn't a good sight. Both players were bleeding and injured, to top it all off, a suspension was immediately issued to Jake.

"Is this the time to switch the stream off?" Anton broke the silence in the room, the three of you meeting each others' gazes with an obvious 'oh no' on your faces. Oh no indeed.

You actually didn't know what happened after. Anton did, in fact, switch the stream off while you raced to text Jake with full worry. He wasn't responsive, so you gave him his space to let his anger cool off. In the meantime, you paced around despite your friends' reassurance that didn't help much. You weren't feeling much better even after they left, glancing at your phone way too often while praying your screen would lit up with a notification from Jake.

The evening sunset pierced through your curtains, dawn eventually made its appearance. It had been a long hour of waiting for Jake, no matter how you tried to shake the dreadful feeling, it was hard to fully ignore it. It almost felt like forever until your doorbell rang. The sinking feeling was back.

Your footsteps thud loudly against the floor, ripping the door open by its handle, meeting Jake's injured face that carried a lopsided smile, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Are you disappointed in me?"

He was about to be the death of you, in the worst possible way. You said nothing at first, walking closer, and caught him by surprise when you threw a punch at his shoulder, then again. "You asshole! You disappeared on me and ignored my texts. I thought something went wrong,"

He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you mid punch. "I forgot how painful your punches were," he tried to lessen the tension, offering a reassuring smile at you, but you only reciprocated with a frown that caused his smile to falter. "I'm sorry. I really am. I should've called you immediately after, but … I needed to cool down. I was too stuck in my head,"

"I figured, I understand," you pressed your lips into a thin line, releasing a deep sigh, you couldn't blame him either. "Why did you do it?"

"He was a jerk," Jake said plainly, although it was already a full explanation on its own, you couldn't help but shake your head at it.

"You shouldn't've used violence to get back at him,"

"I know,"

"You're suspended for the next game,"

"I know,"

You let the words sink in for a short moment, pursing your lips, then breathed a deep sigh through your nostrils. "Does that mean you'll be free to be my partner that day? I need someone to watch the game with,"

The initial disappointment in his face disappeared, turning into a much more hopeful expression. His eyes visibly lit up, face beaming. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I am,"

"Then I have something to ask too," Jake's voice slightly trembled at that, it was something that didn't go unnoticed by you. He extended the hand that held onto the bouquet, the most nervous smile you've seen on Jake was plastered on his face. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

There was something electrical that coursed through your veins, it could be pure shock or adrenaline. Your mind was currently short circuiting, a mix of relief, happiness and disbelief eere clogging your head to form a coherent thought. But your answer was forced through in the end, you had to push it out no matter what.

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jake. I'd love to be your girlfriend. In every lifetime if that matters," your lips twisted into the biggest smile, it was hard to resist laughing at the shock in Jake's reaction. He must've expected the answer already, but he still couldn't hide the surprise from hearing the word 'yes'. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me,"

A rush of relief flooded his prior expressions, the littlest grin adorned his face. It was as if everything happened on cue. You grabbed the bouquet from him and next thing you knew, he used his other hand to pull your forearm, causing you to stumble into him, then there it was, his lips on yours. Out of everything, this was unexpected.

"Ouch," he winced, the small yet fresh wound on the edge of his lips being a deterrent for a second, but he was not going down like that.

Jake tilted his head to angle his lips better, deepening the kiss and avoiding the cut at the same time. Kissing him this time was much different from the rest. This time after his long awaited question, it seemed the built up of emotions were poured into this single kiss alone. Unimaginable, that was the only way you could describe how you felt. The rollercoaster of emotions and the twist in your gut, it was your first time feeling this way. In love, that was it.

Pulling away from each other was something neither of you wanted. His forehead was resting against yours, his minty breath fanning on your lips, the dorkiest grin displayed. The two of you kept your hold onto one another, not daring to make a single move.

You met his eyes, reading the secret love messages hidden in his brown irises that he held onto tightly. "So, do you accept my date?"

Jake leaned his head back, unimpressed. "What do you think? I already gave you my answer," there it was, his typical smirk that told you he had another idea in mind. "Want me to give you a more concrete answer?"

He didn't allow you a chance to answer when he leaned in to kiss you again, a much shorter and brief kiss. But, you got your answer, and an endearing smile that you couldn't wipe off no matter what.

"Stop being cheesy and get your ass inside to get your wounds treated. An infection will hurt," you pushed his chest lightly, visibly flustered from his actions that he took pride in. He only threw his hands up in defence before obediently crossing the threshold.

"Don't cry when I apply the ointment,"

"This isn't my first day at the job."

On the contrary, he actually whined a lot. You learned to put up with it despite the several attempts to force him in place. Did that confident man just turn into a whole baby? Absolutely. The bruises on his knuckles, an ugly cut on both his lips and cheek didn't phase Jake at all, he stayed proud at the fact that he got the chance to land a punch on Eunseok' face. Even though you shook your head in disapprovement, secretly, you were satisfied.

At the end of the night, you didn't think Jake would end up staying over again, but it happened inevitably. He took the advantage of your absent roommate to spend as much time there with the freedom to lounge around. Was he there for you or your bed?

Either way, being in his presence and having his arms wrapped around you in your sleep was something you wouldn't complain about. If this was a privilege you got to enjoy every night, you would count it as a blessing you were never letting go. In his arms, you found a home you would go back to without a doubt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was grinning like the biggest fool every now and then when he stole glances at you. To him, you were the brightest star in his dark sky. After all, you had been the person who stayed in the back of his mind from years ago till then.

It might've been fate, or it might've been plain coincidence when it came to the two of you meeting. Whatever it was, all roads led you to each other. That was inevitable.

There you were, sitting in the stands of the hockey arena, seemingly back to square one all over again.

Everything around you was giving you deja vu but in the best way. Jake was sitting next to you, also suspended like the last time you were in this arena with him beside you. This time around, it was much different than before. He was no longer a stranger that you had one too many encounters with, instead, he was your boyfriend and best friend that you wouldn't dare trade anything for.

"You know what?" Jake turned to look at you with a questioning glance, to which you raised your eyebrow at.

"What?"

"I don't regret getting suspended. I got to punch that jerk and spend time with you here, I think it's pretty romantic," he had a prideful smile as he placed your interlocked hands on his lap.

"I can't tell if I should be charmed or not," you held back a laugh, squeezing his hand while shaking your head. "Modern day romance, how cute,"

"Isn't it?" He replied shortly, averting his attention to the jumbotron, the unmistakable 'KISS CAM' was displayed on the screen as it searched for its next pair of victims once more. 'Look, it's the kiss cam again,"

You followed his line of sight, recalling the time you were once on it with Jake. That felt almost just yesterday. "I doubt it'll land on us again,"

A faint smirk on Jake's telling looks showed that he thought otherwise. "Why? Scared to kiss me?"

"So scared," you responded dryly, a tone laced with sarcasm that had him smiling as well.

"Is it bad to say I want a cameo on the kiss cam with you again?" He pursed his lips, staring back at you with a tinge of guilt at his own confession. "I just want an excuse to kiss you,"

"You don't need any excuse to kiss me, idiot," you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours. "Admit it, you're just an attention freak, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he choked out a laugh that got you doing the same.

As if on cue, the jumbotron screen had moved on from the previous pair, choosing the next one: you and Jake. Must the universe listen to Jake? Unlike last time, Jake didn't have a hat to hide his identity, so once people noticed it was the team's star player, the roar of the crowd only grew tenfold.

"You see," you wished to wipe off the cheeky smirk on Jake's face, the one that he always had whenever he was right about something. "Come on, sweets,"

Despite receiving an eye roll out of annoyance from you, your smile proved something else. Without a word from you, you grabbed onto his face, pulling him in to place a quick kiss, definitely not having a full makeout session in front of the cameras. From the sound of the crowds' cheers and Jake's satisfactory smile, you could tell everyone had eaten this moment up, even Jake himself whose reddening ears were giving him away.

"Look who's blushing!" You pointed at the clear evidence of his reddening skin, but he could only respond with an embarrassed cough.

"No, I'm not,"

"Don't lie, Jakey. You're shy," you looped your arm around his, then rested your head on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that anyway,"

"I know," he whispered, pressing the side of his face on the top of your head. "I love you, sweets,"

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze just in time for him to see the shock evident in the twist of your facial expressions. "What's with the sudden three words?"

He shook his head, pursing his lips a little. "Nothing, just telling you how I feel. I love you," he repeated once more, the effect of the eight letter word piercing through your heart, especially when it came straight from him.

A soft, affectionate smile settled on your lips, your eyes still glued to his face. "I love you too, Jake."

A kiss on your forehead was his reply, a simple action spoke much more than a million words could. An overwhelming wave of emotions gripped onto you just then, just as you tightened your hold on his arm at the feeling of those emotions. It was love, a special kind of love that you built to have with him and him only.

There in that arena, you shared your first unofficial kiss with Jake, leading to a blossom of events that eventually led you to this exact moment, where you had your second kiss in the stands, this time being something more than strangers or even best friends. Lovers, eternal companions, that was what you were. All it took was to break the ice with a punch, then a kiss to fall in love.

2K notes · View notes

gyuuberryy · 2 months ago

Text

a tailored connection

pairing: designer!sunghoon x muse!reader

synopsis: sunghoon, a talented designer, has always harboured feelings for his longtime friend, you. when he invites you to be his muse, the sessions are charged with a tension that neither of you can ignore. as sunghoon’s compliments and intimate moments reveal deeper feelings, a surprising twist shakes your world. with your engagement to someone else looming and sunghoon grappling with his emotions, both of you face a turning point that will challenge everything you thought you knew about love and friendship.

genre: friends to lovers, both are fools in love

warnings: looot of tension, angst!! , kissing, crying, not really proofread

note: aaand with this royally yours comes to an end, i had a great time writing it! where can i get a man who makes me dresses like this :( i hope you enjoy reading this<3

word count: 16.8k

royally yours masterlist | prev:jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the sound of laughter echoes through the village streets, a memory woven into the fabric of your childhood. sunghoon had always been there, his presence as familiar to you as the sky above. you grew up side by side—first as playmates, then as something more complicated, though neither of you had the words for it yet.

it started with simple things. the way he’d hold out his hand to help you over the stones in the river, his grip firm but gentle. the way he’d always save the last piece of the bread he bought for lunch, handing it to you with a shy grin. and the way he’d linger just a bit longer when you hugged him goodbye, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

you were never apart for long, always finding reasons to be in each other’s company. as children, you’d run wild through the village, a pair of inseparable companions. the streets had been your playground, the trees your hideout, and the open fields your kingdom.

sunghoon was the one who taught you how to climb trees, his long limbs making it look easy as he scrambled up the tallest one in the village square. you’d followed him then, determined to keep up with him no matter what, your competitive spirit something he both teased and admired.

“come on, you can do it,” he’d called down to you one day, perched on a sturdy branch high above, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’m not leaving you behind.”

“i’m not going to be left behind,” you’d retorted, climbing faster, though your hands were trembling. you didn’t want to admit it, but heights terrified you.

sunghoon had seen through you, though, like he always did. when you reached the top, his hand had shot out to steady you, his touch reassuring. “see? i told you,” he said, smiling in that soft way that always made you feel warm inside.

that was how it always was—sunghoon pushing you to be braver, to go further, but always there to catch you if you stumbled.

as you grew older, the carefree days of your childhood evolved into something quieter, but no less meaningful. sunghoon’s passion for design began to bloom, his sketchbook always tucked under his arm, filled with dresses, cloaks, and the kind of ornate embroidery that would make any noble gasp. he’d spend hours at the village tailor’s shop, learning from the master tailor, and you’d sit in the corner, watching him work, admiring the way his hands moved with precision and care.

“why don’t you just play outside like the other girls?” the old tailor would often ask you, shaking his head with a smile. “this place is no fun for someone your age.”

you’d always smile back, knowing full well why you stayed. “i don’t mind. besides, i like watching sunghoon.”

sunghoon would look up from his work then, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “she’s my best critic,” he’d say, as if that explained everything.

but it wasn’t just about watching him work. there was something in the quiet moments between you, in the way you understood each other without having to say a word. he would sketch something and glance up, catching your eye, and you’d know exactly what he was thinking. he didn’t have to say it.

the bond between you deepened with every passing year, though the village seemed blind to it. to everyone else, you were just friends, nothing more. but there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when you felt something stirring between you, something neither of you dared to speak aloud.

it wasn’t until one late afternoon, when the two of you were sitting under the large oak tree at the edge of the village, that you truly realised how much he meant to you.

the summer sun cast a golden glow over the fields, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers. you were both quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. sunghoon had his sketchbook open on his lap, his charcoal pencil moving lazily across the page. you were watching him, as you often did, wondering what it would be like to have your portrait sketched by him. would he see you differently if he looked at you that way? would the feelings you’d kept locked inside for so long show on your face?

“what are you drawing this time?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. it was always your way of trying to sneak a glimpse into the world that sunghoon poured into his designs.

he looked up, startled from his thoughts, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “just... a dress,” he said, and though it sounded like a simple answer, there was a softness in his voice that made you curious.

“a dress?” you echoed, smiling. “for who?”

“for... no one in particular,” he murmured, closing the book before you could peek at it. “just an idea.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been spending a lot of time on these designs lately. are you preparing for something big?”

he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about... making something new. something different. i don’t want to just follow the same old patterns forever.”

you nodded, understanding. sunghoon had always been ambitious, but his talent had begun to outgrow the small village you lived in. you knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave—venture into the capital or even beyond to showcase his work.

“whatever it is, you’ll be amazing at it,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving.

he glanced at you then, his expression unreadable. “you really think so?”

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “i’ve always believed in you.”

the words felt heavier than they should have, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away, his fingers nervously tapping the cover of his sketchbook.

“i couldn’t have come this far without you,” he said, his voice quiet. “you’ve always been there for me.”

you smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

but even as you said it, the word “friends” felt inadequate—too small to hold the depth of what you felt for him. and though you couldn’t say it aloud, you wondered if sunghoon felt the same.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields, the two of you sat in silence, side by side. in the fading light, everything felt suspended—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

but neither of you moved, and the unspoken feelings between you remained just that—unspoken.

for now.

the day had started like any other. you were making your way through the village, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding you—children running through the streets, merchants shouting their daily specials, and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. but today, something felt different. there was an odd flutter in your stomach, though you couldn’t quite place why. perhaps it was because you were heading to sunghoon’s workshop, as you often did, or perhaps it was something else.

his shop had grown over the years, its modest space now brimming with elegant fabrics and mannequins draped in partially finished garments. sunghoon had worked tirelessly, his name slowly gaining recognition beyond the village, though he remained humble about his achievements. it had become a routine for you to visit him, to sit in the corner while he worked, offering your thoughts or simply watching the magic unfold under his skilled hands.

when you arrived, the door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open to find sunghoon standing at his worktable, deep in thought. his back was turned to you, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow around him. he was focused, hunched over a sketch, his pencil moving in rapid strokes, as if he were chasing some fleeting inspiration.

you stepped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb him. he was always at his best when he was lost in his work—his mind far away from the village, immersed in a world of silk and satin, seams and stitches. but even in those moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sense your presence before you spoke.

today, though, he was more distracted than usual. he didn’t notice you until you were almost beside him, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his newest creation. “what’s this one?” you asked lightly, hoping not to startle him.

he jumped slightly, straightening up and turning to face you, a small smile forming on his lips when he saw it was you. “you’re early.”

you raised an eyebrow. “am i interrupting?”

“no, not at all,” he said, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “i was just... thinking.”

“you do that a lot,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the worktable. “what’s on your mind today?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of a piece of fabric. you could see there was something weighing on him, but sunghoon had always been the type to choose his words carefully, never speaking until he was sure of what he wanted to say.

finally, he turned back to you, his expression serious but soft. “i’ve been working on something new. something important.”

you crossed your arms, intrigued. “i figured as much. you’ve been spending even more time here than usual. what is it? a new collection?”

“not exactly,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “it’s... different this time. i want to create something that’s truly mine, something that will set me apart. but to do that, i need help.”

you blinked, surprised. sunghoon rarely asked for help, especially when it came to his designs. “help? from me?”

he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “i want you to be my muse.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than you’d expected. muse. it wasn’t just a word—it was a role that carried meaning. in a way, you’d always been part of sunghoon’s creative process, offering suggestions or simply being there to share in his successes and frustrations. but this... this was something else entirely.

you shifted your weight, suddenly feeling a little unsure. “a muse? what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “i’ve been designing dresses, outfits for people i’ve never even met. but none of them feel personal. none of them feel real. i want to create something that speaks to me, and to do that, i need someone who inspires me. someone i know. someone... like you.”

your breath caught in your throat. the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you—it was impossible to ignore the meaning behind his words. he wasn’t just asking you to be part of his work; he was asking you to be at the centre of it. to be the person he looked at, thought about, dreamed about while he created. and that idea stirred something inside you that you hadn’t been prepared for.

“i don’t know if i’d make a very good muse,” you said, trying to laugh it off, though your heart was racing.

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re perfect for it. you’ve always been perfect.”

the air between you shifted, growing warmer, heavier with tension. it wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you—he was always kind, always thoughtful—but this felt different. his words weren’t casual or lighthearted. they carried weight, an unspoken truth that had been building between you for years.

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your throat tightening. being his muse meant more than just standing still while he draped fabric around you. it meant letting him see you, really see you, in ways that no one else ever had. it felt intimate, like a part of you would be etched into every piece he made.

“what would that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon blinked, startled by the question. “what do you mean?”

“you and i,” you clarified, feeling the weight of the words. “if i agree... won’t it change things between us?”

for a long moment, sunghoon didn’t speak. he seemed to consider your words, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings. finally, he took a deep breath, stepping even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his body. “maybe it will,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “but maybe it’s already changed. maybe it’s been different for a long time.”

his words hit you like a wave, the truth in them undeniable. he was right. things had changed—slowly, quietly—but neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge it. until now.

your heart hammered in your chest, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. you could feel the tension between you, crackling like the air before a storm. there was something fragile, something precious hanging between you, and the slightest word or movement could shatter it.

but then, without thinking, you made your decision.

“i’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief passing across his face. “you will?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yes. i’ll be your muse.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken feelings that had been buried for so long. and then, slowly, sunghoon’s lips curved into the softest smile—a smile that reached his eyes and made something inside you melt.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it felt as if time stood still. you were acutely aware of how close he was, how much more intimate things had become between you in just a few short minutes.

you smiled back, though your heart was pounding. “i think it’ll be fun.”

sunghoon laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and the tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. but even as you both fell into a more comfortable silence, you knew that things between you had changed. there was no going back now.

the sun was beginning to set as you made your way to sunghoon’s shop, a soft, golden glow spreading across the village. it had been only a few days since you agreed to be his muse, but the weight of that decision still lingered in your mind. there was a sense of anticipation, an underlying current of excitement that thrummed through you, but also an edge of nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

you had always been comfortable around sunghoon, but this felt different. it wasn’t just visiting a friend; you were stepping into a role that felt intimate in ways you hadn’t quite expected. and you knew that once you crossed the threshold of his workshop today, something between you would shift again.

when you arrived, sunghoon was already waiting. the door was propped open, and you could hear the faint sounds of rustling fabric and the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. you hesitated for a moment at the doorway, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

sunghoon looked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “you came,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

“of course i did,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the quickening of your pulse. “i’m your muse now, remember?”

his smile widened just a little, and he motioned for you to come in. “right. my muse.”

the word still felt strange on your tongue, and hearing him say it made something flutter in your chest. you glanced around the room, noticing that he had cleared some space near the large windows where the light poured in. rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, sketchbooks stacked nearby, and a dress form stood at the centre, waiting to be draped with something new.

you stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against your skin, but also the weight of sunghoon’s gaze on you. his eyes followed your every movement, a soft intensity in them that made the space between you feel smaller, more charged.

“so, where do we start?” you asked, forcing a smile to break the tension that was building in the room.

sunghoon set down his pencil and moved to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reached for a roll of fabric. “i was thinking we’d start by figuring out what you like. i want to design something that feels like you—not just any dress, but one that you’d wear and feel... beautiful in.”

the way he said the word beautiful made your stomach flip. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his voice lingered on the compliment.

“what i like?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “i’m not sure. i mean, i’ve never really thought about it.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a small smile. “you’ve never thought about what you like in dresses? after all this time of coming here and watching me work?”

you laughed, a little nervous. “i guess i’ve always been more interested in what you were making for other people.”

“well,” he said, his voice softening, “now it’s time to think about what’s right for you.”

he moved closer, picking up a few pieces of fabric and holding them up to the light. “what do you think of these? what colours feel like you?”

you eyed the fabrics he held—a deep emerald green, a soft blush pink, and a striking midnight blue. each one seemed to carry a different weight, a different mood, and the idea of choosing one for yourself felt strangely personal.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted, reaching out to touch the green fabric. “i’ve always liked green, but... i don’t know if it suits me.”

sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes flickering over you, as if he were studying you in a way he hadn’t before. “it suits you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice catching you off guard. “it brings out your eyes. but so would the blue.”

you blinked, surprised by the compliment. sunghoon wasn’t one to flatter people needlessly, especially not you. his compliments usually came in the form of casual remarks, offhand observations about how a colour might work or how you carried yourself in a certain style. but this—this was different. there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you now, that felt far more intimate.

you felt your face grow warm under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. “you think so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i know so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “you have a way of making things look better just by wearing them. it’s not just about the dress—it’s about how you wear it.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air between you growing heavier with each passing second. you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly, so openly. sunghoon had always been composed, professional, even around you. but now, there was something more vulnerable in the way he spoke, something unguarded.

you cleared your throat, trying to break the moment before it became too much. “well, what about styles then? i’ve always liked simpler designs. nothing too extravagant.”

sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still lingering on you, as if he were trying to memorise every detail of your expression. “simple suits you,” he murmured. “but there’s something about you that deserves more. something elegant.”

“elegant?” you echoed, unsure of where this was coming from.

“mm,” he hummed, reaching for his sketchbook. “you’ve always carried yourself with a kind of grace—like you don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”

your breath hitched. you stared at him, your heart pounding louder in your chest as his words hung in the air between you. this wasn’t just a compliment—it was something else. something deeper. and the realisation of it hit you like a wave.

sunghoon, too, seemed to realise the weight of what he’d just said. he quickly looked away, focusing on his sketchbook as if he could take the words back by drowning them in his work. “i didn’t mean to... i mean...”

you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. you had never thought of yourself the way sunghoon was describing you now, and the fact that he saw you like this—it was overwhelming. you could feel the tension crackling between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface suddenly threatening to rise.

“i just... think you should have something that shows who you are,” sunghoon continued, his voice quieter now, more careful. “not just as my muse, but as you. something that makes people stop and see you the way i do.”

your pulse quickened at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, made it feel like the walls of the workshop were closing in.

you glanced down, trying to focus on the fabric in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingered. “sunghoon... i don’t know what to say.”

he shook his head, stepping back slightly as if to give you space. “you don’t have to say anything. i just... i want you to feel beautiful in whatever i make for you. that’s all.”

there was a long pause, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of fabric as you ran your fingers over the green material again. your mind was spinning, your heart racing, and yet you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at his words. it wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he saw you, the way he always had.

finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze once more. “i trust you, sunghoon. i always have.”

his eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said quietly. “because i promise, whatever we create together, it’s going to be something unforgettable.”

the light from the late afternoon sun bathed sunghoon’s workshop in a golden hue, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. you stood near the centre, nervously smoothing the fabric of your dress as sunghoon readied his tools. he had done this countless times—measuring clients for garments—but somehow, this felt different. more intimate. more real.

“alright,” he said, his voice a little too casual as he approached with a measuring tape in hand. “this won’t take long.”

you nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him move closer. sunghoon had always been meticulous when it came to his work, his hands sure and steady, but today there was a faint tremor in them as he unspooled the tape.

“so, uh,” he began, his gaze flickering between your face and the tape in his hands. “we’ll start with your shoulders. just... relax.”

you forced a smile, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. “i’m relaxed.”

he shot you a look that said he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue. he stepped behind you, and you could feel his presence—warm, steady—just inches away. the fabric of your dress shifted slightly as he gently placed the tape around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin ever so lightly. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to suppress it.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the measuring tape as he adjusted it. you could feel your heart beating faster, your pulse quickening with each passing second. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be holding his breath, as if he were just as aware of the closeness as you were.

“alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more focused. “now your waist.”

he stepped around to face you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before dropping to the tape in his hands. his movements were careful, almost hesitant, as he crouched slightly, bringing the tape around your waist. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as his fingers brushed the sides of your dress, the heat of his touch lingering longer than it should have.

the proximity, the feel of his hands so close to you—it was almost too much. you bit your lip, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense concentration. sunghoon had always been calm, composed, but now there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a subtle awkwardness that made your heart race even faster.

he straightened up, pulling the tape taut as he noted your measurements. “i... uh,” he began, clearing his throat slightly, “i’ll need to get your bust next.”

you blinked, feeling your face grow warm. “oh. right.”

it wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected it—this was part of the process, after all—but somehow the idea of sunghoon taking that particular measurement felt... different. the room seemed smaller, the air thicker as you watched him struggle to keep his composure.

his hand hovered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. “i—uh,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “just... hold still.”

you nodded, though you could feel the flush rising to your cheeks as he brought the tape around your chest, his fingers brushing the fabric of your dress with the lightest touch. his face was close now—closer than it had ever been—his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. his fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tape, and for a brief moment, his hand brushed against your skin, sending a shock of electricity through you.

you inhaled sharply, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact, and sunghoon froze. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and startled, as if he hadn’t meant to let the moment slip.

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to...”

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

but he didn’t move away. his hand remained where it was, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him—every breath, every subtle movement—and the closeness was dizzying. there was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made your pulse race even faster.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely steady as you spoke. “sunghoon...”

he blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly stepped back, dropping the measuring tape as if it had burned him. “i—i think that’s enough for now,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i’ve got what i need.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “are you sure? i mean, if you need more measurements—”

“no!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “i mean, no. we’re good. i’ve got everything.”

the tension between you was palpable, thick and heavy, but neither of you knew how to break it. sunghoon busied himself with gathering the tape and jotting down notes, though his movements were jerky, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found.

you watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. there was an awkwardness, yes, but also something else—something that had been building between you for a long time, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

finally, sunghoon spoke again, though his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “you know,” he said, not meeting your eyes, “you really do have... perfect proportions.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. “what?”

he cleared his throat, rubbing his neck awkwardly once more. “i mean... for the dress,” he added quickly, as if trying to backtrack. “you have a really... balanced figure. for tailoring, i mean.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden compliment, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it. the way his voice softened, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, as if he were revealing more than he intended.

“i... thanks?” you managed, feeling your cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, clearly as flustered as you were. “yeah. no problem.”

the silence that followed was thick and heavy, both of you too aware of the tension that had settled over the room like a heavy blanket. sunghoon quickly turned away, busying himself with his sketches, but the weight of the moment lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but you knew—no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise—something between you had shifted. and neither of you were quite ready to confront it yet.

the days following that first measurement session seemed to blur together, each one filled with quiet moments, shared glances, and unspoken words that hung heavy in the air. sunghoon had thrown himself into the design, sketching feverishly as if creating your dress had become not just his project, but his obsession. every stroke of his pencil seemed deliberate, every detail in the fabric a reflection of how closely he had studied you—not just your body, but you as a person.

the workshop had become a second home to you, and you found yourself spending more and more time there as the dress took shape. each day, you would come in, greeted by the soft sounds of scissors slicing through fabric and the rhythmic hum of sunghoon’s needle as he stitched delicate patterns. his focus was unbreakable, yet there was always that moment when he would pause, look at you, and give a small, almost shy smile, as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, helping him create something so personal.

the tension between you grew thicker with every passing day. it was as if the fabric sunghoon was weaving was also binding the two of you together in ways neither of you had expected. there were the long stretches of silence, where the only sound was the soft brush of fabric against your skin as he worked, and then there were the moments when his hand would linger just a little too long as he adjusted the fit of a sleeve or pinned the hem of a skirt.

each session brought a new creation—a new dress, a new style. it had become almost routine: he would sketch out his ideas, asking for your thoughts on the design, and then you would model the fabric as he draped it over you, pinning it into place before moving on to the next step. but no matter how professional sunghoon tried to keep things, there was always that spark of something more lurking beneath the surface.

one afternoon, as you stood in the centre of the room, sunghoon paced around you, scrutinising the latest dress he had draped over your frame. this one was softer than the others, a light cream-coloured gown with delicate embroidery along the bodice. you could feel the weight of his gaze as he circled you, studying every fold, every contour, as if he were memorising the shape of you through the fabric.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady, his eyes focused entirely on you.

you glanced down at the dress, running your fingers over the soft fabric. “it’s beautiful,” you murmured. “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away. instead, he stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted the neckline of the gown. his fingers grazed your collarbone as he worked, sending a shiver through you. he seemed to hesitate, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“i’m trying to capture... something,” he said, his voice trailing off as he picked up his pencil and notepad, scribbling down a few notes. “something that feels... like you.”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “like me?”

he nodded, not looking up from his notes. “it’s not just about the dress. it’s about how you move, how you carry yourself. i want to create something that feels like it belongs to you. not just any dress, but... your dress.”

there it was again—that intensity in his words, the way he seemed to see you in ways no one else ever had. you weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply nodded, letting the moment settle between you.

the sessions continued like this over the next two weeks, each one more charged than the last. sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching new designs late into the night, and every day you would return to see the progress he had made. he would greet you with that familiar smile, sometimes shy, sometimes teasing, and you would fall into the rhythm of your muse-and-artist routine.

but there was something else growing between you, something neither of you could ignore. each time sunghoon draped a new fabric over your shoulders, each time his fingers brushed your skin as he measured or adjusted the fit, the unspoken tension between you deepened. his compliments, once casual and light, became more thoughtful, more personal.

one day, as he worked on the finishing touches of a new gown—a soft lavender dress with delicate lace trimming—he paused, glancing at you from across the room. “you know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve always known you were beautiful.”

you froze, your heart skipping a beat at his sudden confession. he didn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on the hem of the dress as he stitched. “i just... i don’t think i’ve ever told you that,” he continued, his voice almost hesitant.

the words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. sunghoon had always been complimentary in his own way—praising your grace or your proportions for the sake of his designs—but this was different. there was something raw, something vulnerable in his tone that made your chest tighten.

“sunghoon,” you began, but he quickly shook his head, cutting you off before you could continue.

“i’m not saying it for any reason,” he said quickly, his hands still busy with his stitching. “i just... i think it’s something you should know. you’re more than just a muse to me.”

your breath caught in your throat. the weight of his words was impossible to ignore now, the line between friend and something more growing blurrier with each passing day.

you watched him work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the task at hand. the quiet intimacy of the moment settled around you like a soft cloak, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed outside of this room—just you, sunghoon, and the delicate threads of connection that were slowly being woven together.

by the time he finished the lavender dress, the air between you had shifted once again. there was no denying the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long, but neither of you were ready to confront them. not yet.

“i think it’s done,” sunghoon said quietly, stepping back to admire the dress.

you turned, catching his eye for a brief moment before looking away, the tension between you still thick and unresolved.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned back to his sketches, his hands already moving toward the next design. but as he worked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted once again, pulling you both closer to the inevitable.

the day sunghoon finally called you to his workshop to try on the completed dress, your heartbeat quickened with anticipation. you had witnessed pieces of the gown as it came together—folds of fabric, tiny swirls of embroidery—but you hadn’t yet seen the masterpiece in its entirety. now, standing at the doorway, you felt a fluttering mix of nerves and excitement, an invisible pull drawing you into sunghoon’s world once more.

as you stepped inside, you found sunghoon waiting, his face a picture of quiet intensity. he nodded toward the mannequin where the dress hung, his eyes unreadable but somehow deeper, darker than usual, as if holding back something unspoken.

when your gaze finally landed on the dress, your breath caught in your throat.

it was breathtaking.

the gown was nothing short of exquisite—lavender silk flowed like water from the bodice down to the floor, shimmering under the afternoon light that streamed through the windows. the neckline was delicately embroidered, the threads so fine they seemed like whispers etched into the fabric, while lace fluttered over the sleeves, giving the piece an ethereal, almost dream-like quality. the entire dress exuded elegance, but more than that, it felt like you—a reflection of something so deeply personal that you almost couldn’t believe sunghoon had captured it.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the gown. “sunghoon... i don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of the fabric. “it’s perfect.”

he remained silent, watching you with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. his gaze didn’t waver as you admired the dress, his expression unreadable but brimming with something just beneath the surface.

“try it on,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of something raw in it.

nodding, you carefully took the dress from the mannequin and disappeared behind the changing screen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. the fabric felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the gown, the weight of the silk settling around your body like it had been made just for you—which, of course, it had.

the dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the bodice fitting snugly while the skirt fanned out into a soft cascade of fabric. you ran your hands down the front, smoothing the delicate lace as a quiet gasp escaped your lips. it was perfect—no, more than perfect. it was everything you had dreamed of.

but there was one problem. as you reached behind your back to tie the strings that secured the dress, you quickly realised they were positioned just out of your reach. you stretched and fumbled, trying to catch the ties, but it was no use. frustration bubbled inside you, and after a few more futile attempts, you sighed in defeat.

“sunghoon?” your voice was hesitant, your cheeks warming as you called for his help.

“yes?” he replied, his voice soft but nearby.

“i... i can’t tie the strings on my own. could you—could you help me?” your request was almost timid, aware of the intimacy it required, but there was no other option.

a pause followed, but then you heard his footsteps approaching. he came closer, and the air between you seemed to shift, charged with a kind of tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“of course,” sunghoon said quietly. his voice had taken on a softer tone, one that sent a quiet thrill through you as you stood there, waiting, feeling the heat of his presence behind you.

you turned your back to him, exposing the bare skin between the open edges of the dress. the silence that followed was thick, palpable, as his fingers grazed the strings, brushing against your skin in the process. his touch was featherlight, but each accidental contact sent small jolts through you, your senses heightened by the proximity, the intimacy of the moment.

sunghoon worked with slow, deliberate care, pulling the strings through the loops at your back. his fingertips continued to brush your skin, his movements precise but betraying the tension in the way his breath seemed to catch when his hands touched you. you could feel his closeness—the heat radiating from his body, his steady breath that almost matched the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

in the mirror directly in front of you, you watched his expression as he tied the delicate knots. his brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was something else, something simmering beneath the surface. his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes darkening as they traced the movement of his hands against your skin. you couldn’t stop staring at him, watching the way his fingers worked, almost trembling as they lingered on your body longer than necessary.

your pulse quickened, your breath coming out a little too shallow, and you wondered if he could feel the way your muscles tensed under his touch. it was impossible to ignore the tension—something unspoken, something that had been building between you for weeks, was about to break.

“there,” sunghoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands remained on your waist, resting lightly against the fabric as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you swallowed hard, watching him through the mirror. the look on his face wasn’t just one of pride in his work—it was something far deeper. his gaze softened as he admired the way the dress fit you, his fingers tightening slightly against your waist. “you look... beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “it suits you perfectly. is it comfortable?”

the words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the hushed tone, the way his eyes never left yours in the reflection—made your heart race. you nodded, unable to form words, still lost in the haze of the moment.

“it’s perfect,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

sunghoon’s hands stayed where they were, his touch sending a heat through you that was impossible to ignore. your eyes met his in the mirror, the intensity between you crackling like a flame barely held back. his grip on your waist tightened just a little, his fingers pressing into the fabric as though he were anchoring himself.

for a moment, everything froze. the workshop, the world outside—none of it seemed to matter. all that existed was the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched as he stood so close. his fingers brushed against your waist, just under the edge of the fabric, grazing the skin there ever so slightly.

then you turned around, and suddenly, the space between you was gone.

you were standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, your chest brushing against his as you moved. his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to your gaze, conflicted but full of want. the air was thick with tension, so much that you could hardly breathe, and then, without warning, sunghoon’s restraint snapped.

he kissed you.

the kiss was swift, almost frantic, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. his lips pressed against yours with a kind of hunger that sent shockwaves through your body, stealing your breath. one of his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while the other remained at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of the dress as though he were afraid you’d slip away. the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth against yours, the way his hands held you like he’d never let go.

your mind spun in a whirlwind of sensation. the kiss was impulsive, raw, filled with all the feelings he had been holding back for so long. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you could do was respond, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same desperate need that had been growing between you for weeks.

but then, reality crashed down.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and regret, his breath ragged as he stared at you. “i—” his voice faltered, his hand still lingering on your waist, trembling slightly. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to—”

you were just as dazed, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “it’s... it’s okay,” you said, though the words felt hollow. the kiss had left you reeling, and you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

sunghoon’s expression twisted with regret, his hands falling away from your waist as he stepped back. “we shouldn’t have—” he shook his head, his face pale. “i crossed a line.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift into something heavier, something filled with confusion and guilt. “maybe we should forget this happened,” you whispered, though the weight of the kiss still lingered in the air.

he nodded, his expression tight, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “yeah. let’s... forget it.”

but neither of you could. the kiss, the way his hands had held you, the way your heart had raced—it was etched into the fabric of your friendship now, impossible to untangle.

word had spread quickly about sunghoon's exceptional craftsmanship. it began with whispers among the town’s elite, impressed with the stunning gown he had created for you, and soon, nobles from far and wide were flocking to his workshop, eager to have their own garments custom-made by his skilled hands. what had once been a modest business now thrived under the weight of new orders, with sunghoon’s talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

every day the workshop buzzed with activity—fine fabrics and intricate patterns sprawled across every surface, and sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching designs, selecting fabrics, and stitching together dreams. you often found yourself there, as his muse, watching as he brought these creations to life, offering input or simply keeping him company through the long hours. his success was yours to share, and you couldn’t have been more proud.

one day, a letter arrived from the royal palace itself. the princess had heard of sunghoon’s work and requested him personally to craft a gown for her upcoming ball. the letter was written in elegant script on fine parchment, a formal request for his presence at the palace to discuss the details of the gown. when he read it aloud to you, you could hardly contain your excitement.

“sunghoon, this is incredible!” you exclaimed, beaming at him as he held the letter in his hands. his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“it’s surreal,” he admitted, glancing at you with a smile that warmed you from the inside out. “i never thought i’d be making dresses for royalty.”

“you deserve it,” you said earnestly, feeling your heart swell with admiration for him. “you’ve worked so hard, and now everyone can see just how talented you are.”

sunghoon’s smile faltered for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly. there was a weight to his words, a depth of feeling that you felt but couldn’t quite name. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, he turned away, folding the letter carefully.

the trip to the palace was an experience neither of you would forget. the sprawling estate, the opulence of the interiors, the sense of awe that filled you as you walked through the grand halls—it was like stepping into another world. sunghoon had been invited to meet with the princess and discuss her gown, and as his muse and close friend, you accompanied him.

the princess was gracious and kind, and she spoke with sunghoon about the design she envisioned, praising his previous work. throughout the conversation, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, watching the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, his artistic mind already turning over the details of the gown in his head. it was hard not to feel a swell of pride, knowing you had played a part in his journey to this moment.

afterward, when the order had been placed and the royal commission secured, sunghoon suggested you both celebrate the occasion.

the restaurant was warm and cosy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far removed from the grandeur of the palace. the two of you had shared many meals together over the years, but tonight felt different. the weight of sunghoon’s newfound success hung in the air between you, the knowledge that his life—your lives—were changing in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

you sat across from him, toasting to his success with glasses of wine, laughter bubbling up as you reminisced about old times. “do you remember the time we tried to make that dress for my cousin’s wedding, and the fabric tore right before the ceremony?” you said, laughing as you recalled the chaos.

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “how could i forget? i thought i was finished as a tailor before i even started.”

“but you saved it in the end,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “you’ve always had this way of making things beautiful, even when they seem impossible.”

his laughter faded, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence between you. his gaze met yours, and the atmosphere seemed to shift—something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy like the summer air. the warmth from the wine and the closeness of the moment made it difficult to focus on anything else but him—the way the candlelight flickered against his features, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you just a little too long.

he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you know, this success… it’s more than i ever thought possible. and i don’t think i could have done it without you by my side.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. there it was again—that undercurrent of something more, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to break free.

your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in slightly, your faces just inches apart. the air between you crackled with anticipation, the proximity sending sparks down your spine. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. your eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt like the world had fallen away.

the moment stretched on, and you could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. he was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that all it would take was one small movement, one tiny step forward, and—

“i’m getting married,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

sunghoon froze, his eyes widening in shock. the spell between you shattered, and you immediately regretted speaking, but there was no taking it back now. the air between you went cold, and you felt your stomach drop as the weight of your announcement settled over the table like a heavy blanket.

“what?” his voice was low, strained, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “my parents... they’ve arranged a marriage for me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m engaged.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stared at you, his expression unreadable, though you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. his jaw clenched slightly, his hand tightening around his glass as if he were trying to steady himself.

“when?” he finally asked, his voice tight, controlled.

“the date hasn’t been set yet,” you admitted, feeling your throat tighten with guilt. “but... soon.”

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence between you stretching into something unbearable. you could see the conflict in his eyes—the hurt, the frustration, the confusion. the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months even, was now thick with an unspoken finality.

finally, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded with emotion. “congratulations,” he said quietly, though the word felt hollow, like it had been ripped from him unwillingly.

your heart sank, a wave of disappointment washing over you. you had expected... well, you didn’t know what you had expected. for him to fight for you, maybe, to protest or say something that would change everything. but instead, all you got was a distant, polite congratulations.

“sunghoon—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“i’m happy for you,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings. “i’m sure he’s a good man.”

the words stung, more than you had anticipated, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in your chest. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. but what could you say? you were engaged, and he... he was congratulating you, just as any friend would.

“yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “thanks.”

but neither of you was happy, and you both knew it.

the walk back home felt heavier than usual. the excitement and easy flow of conversation that had filled the night seemed to dissipate into an awkward, thick silence. sunghoon walked beside you, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes focused on the road ahead. normally, you’d both talk about everything and nothing—jokes, shared memories, or the latest designs he had been working on. but tonight, every step felt strained, as if the unspoken words were choking both of you.

you could feel the weight of what had happened at the restaurant still hanging between you, as if the tension you hadn’t acted on had only grown with your admission. sunghoon had insisted on walking you home, just as he always did, though the usual warmth in the gesture felt distant now. neither of you had tried to break the silence, though you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line as he walked with an unusual stiffness. you wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but no words came. the engagement had changed everything between you, and you hated how powerless it made you feel. there was a dull ache in your chest as you watched him struggle with the weight of emotions he clearly wasn’t ready to share.

when your house came into view, you slowed your steps, almost wishing the walk could last just a little longer. but it didn’t. you reached your doorstep, and just as you were about to thank sunghoon for the walk, the door swung open.

your mother appeared, her face lighting up the moment she saw the two of you standing there. “sunghoon! what a surprise!” she exclaimed warmly, stepping out and pulling him into an embrace before he could protest. “you look so well!”

sunghoon smiled politely, though you could tell he was caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “good evening, ma’am. i was just walking your daughter home.”

your mother beamed, glancing at you with that knowing look of hers. “he always does, doesn’t he?” she teased lightly. “such a good boy.”

“mama...” you muttered, feeling embarrassed.

but your mother wasn’t finished. “come in, come in! you can’t just leave him standing outside like that,” she scolded, ushering sunghoon into the house before either of you could object. you shot him an apologetic look, but he waved it off with a small smile as he followed her inside.

the warmth of your home enveloped you both, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. your father was sitting by the fire, and when he saw sunghoon, his face brightened. “ah, there’s the young tailor everyone’s talking about! come, sit with us.”

sunghoon looked between you and your parents, clearly not wanting to intrude, but it was hard to refuse the hospitality of your family. you watched as he settled into one of the chairs near the fire, his polite smile fixed in place, though you could sense the unease in his posture.

your mother sat beside him, clasping his hands in hers as she looked at him with pride. “sunghoon, i’ve heard such incredible things about your work lately. everyone is talking about you, and we couldn’t be more proud.”

you could see the discomfort in his eyes as your mother’s words began to feel more like a reminder of the distance between you. he offered her a tight smile. “thank you. it’s been... unexpected.”

“and well deserved!” your father chimed in. “we always knew you’d make something of yourself, ever since you were little.”

your mother nodded eagerly, her gaze softening as she looked at him fondly. “we’ve seen you grow up alongside our daughter, sunghoon. you two have always been so close... practically inseparable.”

you stiffened at the words, knowing what was coming next.

“which is why,” your mother continued, glancing at you briefly before turning back to sunghoon, “it’s been so hard for her, this whole engagement business.”

your stomach twisted. the topic you had been dreading was now out in the open, and you didn’t miss the way sunghoon’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. he was trying to stay composed, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable.

“she’s protested quite a bit, hasn’t she?” your mother added, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.

sunghoon’s eyes darted toward you, his surprise evident. you could see the confusion in his expression as he processed your mother’s words. you hadn’t said yes to the engagement? not fully? he had assumed you had accepted it without question, but now...

you averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush under the weight of both his and your parents’ attention. you hadn’t exactly fought against the engagement with much force either. it was an unspoken understanding between you and your family that the marriage would happen eventually, even if your heart wasn’t fully in it. but now, seeing sunghoon’s expression shift, you could see the conflict in his eyes.

your mother continued on, oblivious to the tension now thick in the air. “it’s just nerves, of course. every girl feels a bit uncertain before a big step like this.” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “she’ll come around.”

you wanted to protest, to say something that would dispel the awkward silence stretching between you and sunghoon, but the words caught in your throat. instead, your mother’s next words hit like a hammer, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper.

“actually,” she began, her voice suddenly filled with excitement, “we were hoping you could help us with something, sunghoon.”

he blinked, taken aback by her tone. “of course, ma’am. what is it?”

“well,” she said, glancing at you with a grin, “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?”

the room felt as if it had dropped several degrees, the weight of her request pressing down on all of you. you felt your stomach churn, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. you hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected this. you watched as sunghoon’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, his composure slipping as the full impact of your mother’s words hit him.

make your wedding dress. your wedding dress.

he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i’d be honored,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

your mother clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. “oh, that’s wonderful! i knew we could count on you, sunghoon.”

he stood up then, a sudden stiffness in his movements. “thank you for your kindness,” he said, his voice more formal now. “but it’s late, and i should be going.”

your mother stood as well, ushering him toward the door with a fond smile. “of course, of course. but we must meet soon to discuss the dress!”

sunghoon nodded, his gaze avoiding yours as he headed for the door. you followed behind in silence, the heaviness between you both suffocating.

at the doorstep, he paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face you one last time. there was something broken in his expression, a quiet sadness that you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, it seemed as if he might say something—something real, something raw—but then, he simply nodded.

“good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.

as you watched him disappear into the night, your heart ached with the words left unsaid, the feelings unspoken, and the love you both were too afraid to fight for.

as sunghoon walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air did little to ease the storm brewing inside him. each step echoed in the stillness, but his mind was anything but calm. the evening had turned from tense excitement into a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

he replayed your mother’s words over and over in his mind: “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?” the words had cut deeper than any blade, the cruel irony of it all making his heart twist painfully. he had dreamed of crafting something beautiful for you, yes, but never like this. not for someone else’s wedding. not for the marriage that would take you away from him.

sunghoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as his nails bit into his palms. a marriage. to someone else. he could barely picture it, the idea so foreign and painful that it seemed absurd. but the reality was right there, looming in front of him like an unstoppable force. he had always known that this day would come. you were from a noble family, destined to marry someone of status. and him? he was a tailor, nothing more. his growing reputation in town meant little in comparison to the weight of your family’s expectations.

it’s for the best, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra he hoped would dull the pain. your life with that man—whoever he was—would be easier, more secure. you’d live the life you were meant to lead, filled with luxury, stability, and everything a noblewoman deserved. sunghoon had nothing to offer in comparison. even with his recent success, his craft could never provide you with the life that an arranged marriage could.

sunghoon’s pace quickened, the weight of his emotions making it harder to breathe. his mind whirled with a painful realization: it’s better this way. he had no right to confess his feelings to you now. no right to complicate your life any further. you were getting married, and he had to respect that. confessing his love wouldn’t change anything—it would only hurt you more, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your pain.

he thought of the way you had looked at him tonight, how your eyes had softened when you admitted that you hadn’t agreed to the marriage yet. the flicker of hope that had briefly ignited in his chest had been swiftly extinguished by the cold voice of reason. you deserved better than him, better than a life filled with uncertainty and struggle. and even though it tore him apart inside, sunghoon knew he had to let you go.

she’ll be happier without me. the thought twisted like a knife in his heart, but he held onto it like a lifeline. it was easier to believe that than to face the truth—that he was simply too afraid. too afraid to fight for you, too afraid of what loving you truly meant. because if he did confess, if he asked you to choose him, what then? you would have to give up your life of comfort, your family’s support, and the future they had planned for you. and what if you regretted that decision later? what if he couldn’t be enough for you?

no. he wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t risk it.

by the time sunghoon reached his workshop, his heart was heavy with the decision he had made. he stepped inside, the familiar smell of fabric and wood filling the space around him, but it no longer brought him any comfort. he stood in the dim light, surrounded by the tools of his trade—the very things that had brought him success—and felt nothing but emptiness.

he wouldn’t confess. he couldn’t.

because he loved you too much to ask you to settle for less.

the tension between you and sunghoon hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding everything you had once held dear.

he avoided you, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. each passing day, you found yourself hoping—desperately—that he would come to you, that he would say something to stop the impending wedding. but instead, sunghoon pretended to be okay. he carried on with his work, his life, as if the confession hadn’t happened. as if you hadn’t bared your soul to him and he hadn’t done the same. he buried his emotions, putting on that same calm, controlled front, and it drove you mad.

he wouldn’t fight for you.

your heart ached with the realisation, and it became painfully clear during the next few days that sunghoon had no intention of changing the course of things. the silence between you both was unbearable, the distance growing wider with each passing moment. and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your parents made it worse.

they scheduled an appointment with sunghoon for the most painful task yet: designing your wedding dress.

the irony of it was too cruel. sunghoon, the man who knew every inch of you, who had memorised your shape, your measurements, who had held you so intimately in his arms, was now tasked with crafting the gown you would wear as you married someone else. it was the final blow, the final insult, to a relationship that had been ripped apart by circumstances you couldn’t control.

when the day of the appointment arrived, you found yourself standing outside his workshop, dread pooling in your stomach. you didn’t want to go inside. you didn’t want to face him, not after everything that had happened, and certainly not for this.

with a deep breath, you pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space that now felt cold and foreign. sunghoon was already there, standing by his work table with rolls of fabric laid out in front of him, but the usual warmth in his eyes was absent. he looked up when you entered, his expression neutral, professional. he greeted you with a small nod.

“let’s get started,” he said, his voice low, as if he too was trying to suppress the emotions that lingered just beneath the surface.

you could barely look at him. the air was thick with tension, and you forced yourself to speak, though your voice came out flat, distant.

“i don’t even know why i’m here,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “this is just… a formality.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered briefly with something—hurt, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “your parents want you to have the perfect dress. it’s important to them.”

the atmosphere inside sunghoon’s workshop felt suffocating. you sat rigidly on a small chair, staring at the neatly folded fabrics in front of you while sunghoon prepared his tools. everything about the moment felt forced, mechanical, nothing like the ease and flow of your previous sessions together. you didn’t want to be there. and you were making it painfully clear.

sunghoon turned to face you, holding a few sketches in his hand, his face expressionless. but you could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken pain that lingered between you both. he wasn’t the same, and neither were you.

“so,” he began, keeping his voice calm and professional, “do you have any preferences for the neckline? maybe something you’ve always liked?”

you shrugged, not even looking up at him. “don’t know. don’t care.”

his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, nodding as if that response was perfectly normal. he glanced down at the sketches again, adjusting the paper. “okay… how about the fabric? i was thinking something soft, maybe silk? or—”

“whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. you could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, but you refused to meet it. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt you were, how badly you wanted him to say something, anything, that would change this.

he sighed quietly, turning back to his worktable. “i just want to make sure it’s perfect for you,” he said softly, his voice gentle but strained. “this is an important day…”

you clenched your jaw, the words digging into your heart like shards of glass. an important day? for who? certainly not for you. he kept talking about the wedding as if it were inevitable, as if you were excited about it, and it made your blood boil.

“what about the waistline?” he asked again, forcing the conversation to continue. “something fitted, or maybe a bit more relaxed?”

“i don’t care,” you replied tersely, your tone sharp. “you’re the expert, right? just do whatever.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the fabrics, his back to you. you saw the slight slump in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the table just a little too tightly, and for a second, you almost regretted your words.

but the frustration bubbling inside you wouldn’t let up. you had come here hoping, praying, that he would give you a reason to stop the wedding, that he would fight for you. instead, you were sitting here discussing necklines and fabric as if everything was perfectly fine, as if you weren’t on the verge of losing everything.

he turned back around, this time holding a measuring tape. “let’s… start with your measurements,” he said, his voice sounding tired, defeated.

you stood up reluctantly, moving toward him, your movements stiff and reluctant. you stood there in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest.

sunghoon stepped closer, the tape measure in his hands, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. his proximity felt overwhelming, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the same spark as before. instead, it was heavy, burdened with all the things you both refused to say.

he hesitated for a second before gently wrapping the tape around your waist. his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, but there was no tenderness in the touch. it was robotic, methodical, like he was forcing himself to distance every part of him from you.

“what about the sleeves?” he asked quietly, trying to fill the silence. “long or short?”

“whatever,” you snapped. “it doesn’t matter. none of this matters.”

sunghoon froze for a moment, his hands stilling against your waist. the silence stretched between you, thick with unresolved tension, before he pulled away, the tape measure slipping from his fingers. he turned to face you, his expression strained, frustration and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“what’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice low but firm. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and sorrow. his question was the breaking point, the floodgates that had been holding everything back bursting open all at once.

“why am i acting like this?” you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. “because you’re standing here, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

sunghoon’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“this dress… this wedding… none of it matters to me!” you continued, your voice growing louder with every word. “i don’t want this. i never wanted this. and you know it, sunghoon. you know it better than anyone!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. the words kept pouring out, all the frustration and pain you had been bottling up for weeks finally spilling over.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say something, to do something—anything—that would make me stop this wedding. but you’ve just been standing there, acting like this is what i want when you know it isn’t!” your voice cracked, your hands trembling at your sides. “why won’t you say anything? why won’t you fight for me?”

sunghoon stared at you, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he looked down, his shoulders sagging as if the burden of everything you had just said was too much to bear.

“i… i thought this was what you wanted,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought you deserved someone better than me. someone who could give you everything i can’t.”

you felt your heart clench painfully in your chest, the ache of his words almost unbearable. “that’s not for you to decide!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “you think i care about any of that? i don’t. i never did. the only thing i care about is you.”

the silence that followed was thick with raw emotion. sunghoon stood there, his expression torn, his hands trembling at his sides. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he was finally ready to fight, but the fear in his eyes held him back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry.”

the apology shattered whatever was left of your composure. you turned away, not able to stand the sight of him any longer.

“i don’t want to wear a wedding dress if it’s not for you,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to leave, your heart breaking with every step you took toward the door.

sunghoon didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, broken, as you walked out of his life.

it was the dead of night, the streets shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft crunch of your hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path. you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. not when you had finally made your decision. with nothing but the small bags clutched in your hands, you walked with purpose, heart pounding as you made your way toward sunghoon’s home.

the weight of the evening air pressed against your skin, thick with the lingering tension that had been suffocating you for days. since that fateful conversation at his workshop, the ache in your chest had only deepened, every moment spent away from him gnawing at you. there was no escaping it. you couldn’t go through with the marriage. not when you knew where your heart truly lay.

the small house loomed ahead, a single dim light flickering from the window, signalling that sunghoon was still awake. your pulse quickened, the gravity of what you were about to do hitting you all at once. you were throwing away everything—your family’s expectations, your arranged marriage, the life you had been destined to live—all for him. and yet, none of it scared you.

because sunghoon was worth it. he was the only thing you wanted.

you reached the door, your breath shallow as you hesitated for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest. then, without another thought, you raised your hand and knocked.

a few moments passed, the silence inside the house dragging on like an eternity before you heard soft footsteps approaching. the door creaked open, revealing sunghoon standing there, his hair tousled, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you standing there, drenched in moonlight, with your bags in hand.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with confusion, concern flickering across his features as he glanced between you and the bags at your side. “what are you—what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his home without invitation, leaving him to close the door behind you. the room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the familiar space where so much of your time together had unfolded. it felt both comforting and surreal to be here now, on the brink of something monumental.

“i couldn’t do it,” you said at last, your voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. “i couldn’t marry him, sunghoon.”

he stood there, frozen, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? the wedding—it’s—”

“i don’t want to marry him,” you interrupted, turning to face him fully, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made your heart race. “i don’t want any of this. the wedding, the life my parents planned for me—it’s not what i want. it’s never been what i wanted.”

sunghoon’s breath hitched, his confusion deepening, but you could see the glimmer of hope slowly dawning in his eyes. “then… what are you saying?”

you dropped your bags to the floor and stepped closer to him, the raw emotion swirling inside you finally breaking free. “what i’m saying is that i’m here, right now, because i’m choosing you, sunghoon. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i thought—i hoped—you’d feel the same. but you never said anything. and i can’t keep waiting.”

his eyes widened, a storm of emotions flashing across his face. he looked torn between disbelief and longing, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“i know you think i deserve better,” you continued, your voice growing more urgent, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to him, “but i don’t care about that. i don’t care about anything except you. all i wanted—all i ever wanted—was for you to tell me you felt the same. to fight for me.”

sunghoon swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you had shown up, he looked utterly vulnerable. “i do… i do feel the same, y/n. i’ve always felt the same. but i thought—” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “i thought you’d be better off without me. i was afraid i’d ruin your life if i held you back from everything you deserve.”

you shook your head fiercely, your heart pounding. “you’re wrong. you never would have ruined anything. the only thing that’s been ruining me is the thought of losing you.”

tears welled up in his eyes, his composure crumbling as the weight of his emotions finally caught up to him. he took a step closer, his hands reaching out to gently cup your face. his touch was warm, familiar, filled with the tenderness that had been missing for so long.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go.”

your breath caught in your throat as the distance between you vanished. his hands trembled slightly against your skin, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. you could feel the raw need, the longing that had been suppressed for too long, finally coming to the surface.

“then don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “don’t let me go, sunghoon. i love you. i’ve always loved you. and i’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.”

the words seemed to unlock something in him. without another second of hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of all the years of pent-up desire and unspoken feelings between you. it was everything you had hoped for, everything you had longed for—pure, unfiltered love.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, as if savouring the moment.

“run away with me,” you whispered, your hands still tangled in his shirt. “we can leave this place, start a new life. i don’t care where we go as long as i’m with you.”

sunghoon opened his eyes, searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was determination—love. a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers tracing the lines of your face as if committing them to memory.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “are you really sure about this?”

you smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with the certainty of your decision. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

sunghoon closed his eyes again, pulling you into a tight embrace, as if afraid to let go. “i love you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. “i’ve always loved you.”

tears of relief and joy welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. this was what you had been waiting for. this was all you ever needed.

“we’ll leave tonight,” he whispered, his voice resolute. “we’ll start over, just the two of us.”

you nodded, a smile breaking through the tears as you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. this was your new beginning. your future with sunghoon, the one you had always dreamed of.

and together, you knew you could face whatever came next.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the winding road that stretched out before you and sunghoon. the cool night air clung to your skin as you both moved in silence, hearts pounding in unison as you left the only life you had ever known behind. with each step, the weight of your decision lifted, replaced by a thrill that sent shivers down your spine.

you glanced over at sunghoon, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a mix of determination and exhilaration playing on his features. his hand gripped yours tightly, as if afraid to let go, as if letting go would mean losing you forever. neither of you had spoken much since leaving his house, but the unspoken understanding between you was stronger than ever.

the path ahead was unknown, but that no longer frightened you. in fact, it excited you.

as you crested the hill that overlooked your town, you both stopped for a moment, turning to take in the view one last time. the place where you had grown up, where your families lived, where your life had been planned out for you—it all felt so distant now, like a world you were no longer part of.

you turned to sunghoon, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the enormity of what you were doing. “so… where are we going?”

he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of ambition you had always admired. “there’s a city,” he began, his voice low and steady. “a place i’ve always dreamed of going. it’s known for fashion, for artisans, for people like me who want to make a name for themselves.”

you could see the excitement dancing in his eyes, the dream he had always kept close to his heart. “i’ve heard of it,” you said, your smile growing. “you’re talking about sorina, aren’t you?”

he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “yes. it’s always been my dream to open my own studio there. to create something that’s entirely mine. but… i never thought i’d actually go. i didn’t think i’d have the chance.”

your heart swelled with pride and affection as you looked at him. “well, now you do,” you said softly. “and you’re not going alone.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—really looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening. then, with a quiet laugh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

you smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “you’re wrong. you’re everything i deserve.”

with one final glance at the town behind you, the two of you turned and began your journey to sorina, the city of dreams. the road ahead was long, but the promise of a new life with sunghoon made every step feel lighter. the thought of him creating masterpieces, of you being by his side as his muse, filled you with a hope you had never known.

and as the two of you settled into your new life in sorina, that peace only grew. sunghoon’s dreams were coming to life with every stitch, every sketch. he was thriving in a way that you had always known he could, and you were there to see it all. your role as his muse was more than a job or a title—it was the culmination of your deep connection, your bond that had grown through years of friendship and love unspoken.

there were moments when the thought of your parents crossed your mind. the guilt of running away lingered in the back of your heart at times, knowing how much they had hoped for you to marry into the match they had chosen. you wondered if they were angry, disappointed, or hurt by your decision. but as days turned into weeks, those worries faded. you knew your parents—they loved you too much to hold on to their disappointment forever.

"i’m sure they’ll forgive me," you said one evening, resting your head on sunghoon's shoulder as you both watched the busy city streets from your studio. "they’ll come to understand… eventually."

sunghoon looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. “you really think so?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “i know they will. they’ve always wanted me to be happy. and when they see how happy we are… when they see all you’ve achieved, they’ll realise we made the right choice.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “i hope so,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “i just want you to have everything you deserve. i want them to see that.”

“they will,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “they’ve known you all your life, sunghoon. they know how hard you’ve worked. they’ll see why i chose you. why we chose each other.”

sunghoon’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “we’ll make a life together that’s worth showing them. one day, when they see what we’ve built, they’ll understand.”

and deep down, you knew he was right. your parents loved you, and in time, they would see the joy that your life with sunghoon brought you. they would forgive the abrupt departure, the wedding that never was. because while it wasn’t the life they had envisioned for you, it was the one you had always dreamed of.

as sunghoon’s studio grew, and as the two of you thrived in sorina, you no longer felt the weight of your decision. you had chosen love over duty, dreams over expectations. and in the end, you knew it would all work out. one day, when the time was right, you would return to your parents—not as the daughter who had run away, but as the woman who had found her happiness.

for now, though, the life you had built with sunghoon was everything you had ever wanted. the city of fashion, the thriving studio, the man you loved—it was more than enough.

and with every stitch sunghoon sewed, every dress he designed, you were reminded that you had made the right choice. together, you had found your place in the world. and you had no doubt that the people you loved most would come to understand that too.

BONUS SCENE !

in sorina, life had unfolded beautifully, and not just for sunghoon. the city may have been known for fashion, but it was also a hub of opportunity for anyone willing to carve out their own path—and you had done just that.

while sunghoon spent his days sketching and tailoring in his studio, you found your own passion and footing in the city. before long, you’d built something of your own—a modest business in jewellery making, a craft you had dabbled in back home but now took seriously. the bustling markets of sorina were filled with artisans from every walk of life, and soon your intricately designed pieces caught the eye of locals and visitors alike.

at first, it was a hobby. a way to pass the time while sunghoon worked. but it didn’t take long for you to gain recognition. your designs, delicate yet bold, paired perfectly with the high-end garments sunghoon was crafting. your pieces began to complement his work, and you both realised the potential of collaborating together—not just in love but in business.

the two of you often worked late into the night, your small workbench tucked in the corner of his studio. sunghoon would be bent over his latest creation, needles and thread in hand, while you arranged shimmering stones and metals into intricate patterns.

“you know,” sunghoon said one evening, breaking the comfortable silence between you, “we’re going to need a bigger space soon.”

you looked up from your work, raising an eyebrow. “why’s that?”

he smirked, nodding toward the scattered jewellery and sketches of new designs littering the floor. “because you’re taking over my studio, that’s why.”

you chuckled, shaking your head as you placed a bracelet you’d been working on down on the table. “i think we both know you’re the one taking up all the space. these fabrics are everywhere.”

“touché,” he replied with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “but i’m serious. your business is growing. people are asking for your pieces specifically now. you’ve got clients lined up at the door. we can’t keep pretending this is just a side gig.”

you shrugged, but your smile betrayed your pride. “maybe. but it’s not like i’m doing this on my own. you’ve helped me a lot. half of the clients only know about my jewellery because it’s paired with your designs.”

sunghoon shook his head. “no. they come for you. you’ve worked hard to get here. don’t downplay that.”

his words warmed your heart, and you leaned back in your chair, watching him for a moment. “i guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”

he met your gaze, the familiar spark of affection lighting up his eyes. “more than i ever imagined.”

as the weeks passed, the collaboration between your jewellery and sunghoon’s garments became the talk of the city. nobles and royals who ordered dresses from sunghoon began requesting matching jewellery pieces from you. soon, you were no longer just sunghoon’s muse or his partner—you were an established name in your own right.

at events and gatherings, whispers of “have you seen her designs?” filled the halls, your name mentioned alongside sunghoon’s, but never overshadowed by it. the partnership between the two of you was equal, balanced by your mutual respect and admiration for one another’s talents. while sunghoon’s studio flourished, so did your own reputation. you set up a small stall in the heart of the city, your jewellery catching the sunlight and drawing the attention of passersby. with each new order, you found yourself standing more confidently in this new life you had built.

one evening, as the two of you sat in the now-expanded studio, reviewing orders and discussing the future, sunghoon turned to you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“so, what’s next for you? you’ve got clients begging for your work, you’re practically a household name now,” he teased, nudging you gently. “maybe it’s time you open your own studio, too?”

you smiled, considering his words. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about it, actually.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh? you’ve got plans you’re not telling me?”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, nothing concrete. but i do think it’s time i take things to the next level. i want to expand, maybe hire a few apprentices. i don’t want to just make jewellery—i want to teach others how to do it, too. there’s a lot of talent in this city that deserves to be nurtured.”

he looked at you with such pride in his eyes, it made your heart swell. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you shrugged, trying to downplay your excitement. “i’m just doing what i love.”

“and you’re damn good at it,” he said firmly. “don’t forget that.”

it wasn’t long before you made that dream a reality. you secured a space in one of the city’s artisan districts, a small but beautiful shop where you could sell your creations and train apprentices in the art of jewellery making. the shop was an extension of yourself—chic, elegant, and full of the creativity that had always been a part of you.

soon, your shop became as well-known as sunghoon’s studio. the two of you were often talked about together, not as a couple who had run away from their old lives, but as two individuals who had built something remarkable side by side.

every piece of jewellery you created had its own story, just as every dress sunghoon designed had its own flair. and while you both supported each other’s work, neither of you relied solely on the other to define your success.

the life you had built together in sorina was not just about love—it was about the dreams you had both nurtured and the independence you cherished. you were more than sunghoon’s muse. you were a creator, a designer, a businesswoman in your own right.

as the sun set over sorina, casting a warm, golden glow across the city, you stood at the threshold of your jewelry shop, taking in the scene before you. the streets were alive with people bustling between vendors, artisans displaying their wares, and musicians playing softly in the distance. your heart swelled with contentment as you looked out over the life you had built, not just for yourself, but alongside sunghoon.

the sound of footsteps broke you from your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him approaching. his face was illuminated by the setting sun, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he drew closer. even after all this time, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. there was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence, the kindness in his eyes, that always made you feel safe and cherished.

"busy day?" he asked, his voice low and familiar as he stopped in front of you, his gaze warm.

you nodded, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "busier than usual. i think word is spreading faster than i expected. what about you? how’s the studio?"

he chuckled, glancing back toward his own shop down the street. "same here. we might need to start hiring more help."

you laughed softly, and the two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere around you. the city was beautiful in the fading light, and for a brief second, everything felt perfect. but then sunghoon shifted slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw something deeper flicker in them—something that had never fully disappeared.

without a word, he reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a little too long. the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger over the months.

“you’ve got a speck of something,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. “right here.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingers lightly grazed your skin. “thanks,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

sunghoon didn’t pull away immediately. instead, he stayed close, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something different in his gaze tonight—something tender, yet intense. and as you looked back at him, you felt the weight of all the moments you’d shared, the quiet yearning that had simmered between you since the day you’d arrived in this city together.

“do you ever think about… everything?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. he didn’t have to explain further. you both knew exactly what he meant.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “i do,” you admitted quietly. “every day.”

his hand slipped down to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. but when you didn’t pull away, he drew you in closer, until your bodies were nearly touching, the warmth of his chest radiating against yours. you could feel the rise and fall of his breath, and it was intoxicating.

“i never imagined…” sunghoon’s voice was barely a whisper now, his lips close to your ear, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “that we’d end up here. together.”

you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you took in his scent—so familiar and comforting. “me neither.”

for a long moment, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you daring to move or speak. the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

and then, without warning, sunghoon pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words escaping him like they’d been held back for far too long. “i’ve always loved you.”

your heart stopped, the confession hanging in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you had known it, felt it, but hearing the words out loud still sent a rush of emotion through you.

“i love you too,” you replied softly, the words coming out as naturally as breathing.

sunghoon smiled—a slow, tender smile that reached his eyes. and before you knew it, he was leaning in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate. it was as if all the years of longing, of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities, had finally culminated in this moment.

you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. his lips were warm and gentle, yet insistent, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in every touch. the world spun around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the evening.

“i don’t want to wait anymore,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we’ve waited long enough.”

you nodded, your heart swelling with a sense of certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time. “neither do i.”

you smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you. the future felt bright, and for the first time, you could see it clearly—both of you, side by side, not just as lovers but as equals. you were no longer running away from the life you didn’t want. instead, you were running toward the life you had built together, filled with love, passion, and the promise of a beautiful tomorrow.

you weren’t just sunghoon’s muse. you weren’t just a girl who had fallen in love. you were a woman who had taken control of her destiny, and now, with sunghoon by your side, you were ready for whatever the future held.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl (the rest will be tagged in the comments since tumblr is acting up again )

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fics #sunghoon oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au

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sister-lucifer · 8 months ago

Note

hcs 4 toby giving bj 4 first time :3

Toby’s First Time Giving/Receiving a Blowjob Headcanons

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: I know you probably meant Toby giving a blowjob for the first time but I wrote both because i can. enjoy the double feature

Genre: Smut headcanons

Content/Warnings: Oral sex (obviously), Toby likes praise, face fucking, Toby gets a bit rough in his excitement but he doesn’t mean it, he’s just a feral, excitable horndog, scenarios for both AFAB and AMAB readers are included, use of dick, cock and cunt to describe genitalia

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Giving

Oooohhh boy okay, listen

He’s not exactly experienced

Most of the people he went to high school with were incredibly put off by him and the like two who weren’t never went past making out

He has no idea what he’s doing, you’ll have to teach him

The good news? He’s very eager to learn

If you have a dick he’ll try to deepthroat it IMMEDIATELY, regardless of the fact that he’ll choke like a fucking idiot, and you’ll have to practically yank him off of you

If you have a cunt he’ll do the same thing except latching on way too fast and way too rough in a clumsy but genuine effort to pleasure you

Just hold tightly to his hair to keep him from ducking back down and gently instruct him to start slow

You’ll have to be very detailed with your instructions, and he has no shame, so expect a lot of really specific questions

“Should I-I keep flicking your clit with my tongue like th-that?”

“Do you like w-when I circle your tip l-like that?”

Etc, etc

And he’ll say it with 100% sincerity, because he really does want you to enjoy this

It takes him a minute to get the hang of it, but once he gets his rhythm he won’t stop until you’re begging him to

It’s fun for him to watch you squirm and moan, it brings him just as much pleasure as it does you

You can encourage him to keep going by scratching his head, running your fingers through his hair, and giving a little tug when he does something you particularly enjoy

Speaking of which, he responds very well to verbal feedback (re: praise)

You can see his eyes light up when you call him a good boy or tell him he’s doing well

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get him praise

Basically, he’s easy to train

Just keep telling him how well he’s doing, and be clear about what you enjoy

He’s more than happy to comply

Plus, it’s kinda hot to watch the drool and cum leak from the gash in his cheek as he eagerly laps up everything he can get from you

Receiving

Well your first challenge will be getting him to sit still

He’s a hyperactive bastard and his excitement will manifest as restlessness

It’s best to have him lying on his back to reduce the risk of possible injury, but he will still shake his legs and fidget with his sleeves as he watches you position yourself between his legs

He’ll try not to touch you at first because he’s not really sure what’s acceptable or not, instead opting to fumble with his fingers and gnaw on his knuckles

He’ll be breathing heavily and mumbling to himself the whole time, before you’ve even gotten his cock out

“I-I can’t believe you’re doing this for-for me…Y-You’re so nice to m-me…I-I don’t—fuck!—I don’t k-know what I’d do with-without you…”

And he’ll go on and on like that until you’ve sucked him so good he can’t talk

He’ll forget his manners the closer he gets to cumming

He’ll get more and more needy and he’ll start to grab at your hair

Unless you stop him, he’ll get rougher and rougher until he’s practically fucking your mouth, pulling and pushing your head back and forth by your hair and thrusting into your mouth

He’ll have drool running down his chin and he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut, just completely desperate and messy

The best part is the way he’ll shamelessly beg to cum down your throat

“Pleeeaaase, please, please, fuck—! I-It’s all I want, just let me—let me cum in your m-mouth, I need it! I-I’ve been a g-good boy, haven’t I?!”

If you don’t say yes he’ll literally cry

But if you do, the absolute euphoria that’ll cross his face is more than worth it

He’ll force you down on his cock as he releases down your throat, his back arching in an almost violent manner as he forces you to take everything he has to give

And he won’t let go until he’s completely done

When you’re finally released from his death grip it’ll be because he’s gone limp, completely spent and barely conscious

Give him a quick kiss before you go to clean up, he’ll lick your lips clean for you

He’ll be riding that high for hours

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #smut #smut headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby #toby rogers #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut #ticci toby headcanons

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astrophileous · 2 years ago

Text

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.

Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.

When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.

“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.

You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.

Is this for real?

“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.

“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.

“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.

“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.

You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”

“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.

“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.

“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.

“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”

What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.

Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.

Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.

“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.

As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.

“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.

“Yes,” Natasha nodded.

As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.

“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.

“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”

“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.

“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.

“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.

The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”

You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”

“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.

You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.

“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.

Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”

You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.

You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.

“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.

You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.

His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.

“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”

Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”

“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”

“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”

“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”

“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”

“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.

Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”

You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.

As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.

With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”

Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”

“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.

The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.

Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.

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boltonbritreads · 3 months ago

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🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie x reader

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tiamathh · 2 months ago

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What to look for when it comes to your next partner?

Note: Hi!! Sorry I've been away for so long!! Please Like, Reblog and comment, if you like it/if it resonates. HAVE FUN AND DO NOT REWORD, STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST MY WORK!!

Piles 1 -> 3

Masterlist • Tip Jar • Paid Readings

Pile 1

Hi Pile 1! Okay so this may feel a little shallow but here me out, for you a big point is going to be physical and sexual attraction. Your next relationship is supposed to teach you how to be more in touch with your sexual self, and that's why you need to look for someone who ignites that fire within your core. You should also look for someone who's actually in for the commitment because you may have a habit of going for people who are non committal because you may feel like if you keep it casual you'll seem cool to your partner and they may like you more, no, stop it, look for people who value you the way you value them.

Next, you need to look for someone who has a lot of experience with relationships, not a player per day but just someone who knows what they want and when they want it and operate in that way. Even when people know what they want, they can change partners and don't let that deter you from people with a lot of exes, it doesn't mean that they have commitment issues it just means that they may want different things at different times and may have had the guts to cut it off with people.

Lastly you need to look for someone who's not going to be wishy washy with you and will meet you at the same level of headstrong you are, because your stubbornness may not be cute but when paired with your next partners stubbornness it will end up leading to a perfect balance of two headstrong people who can fight all day but actually come to a conclusion or find a middle ground the both of you respect.

Pile 2

Hi Pile 2! This might sound Counterintuitive but you need to find someone for your next relationship who may feel open enough to disagree with you. You may be used to being around people who often share the same opinion with you, which is good, but someone who challenges your views will make for not only a more fun opponent but also someone whose views you can change or vice versa. I'm also getting that one quality that you should look for is that they share the same love for music or dance as you, basically the same love of the performing arts, this includes theatre/acting as well. I'm getting that your next partner may be someone who's very interested in this, especially into cinema.

They could be a film bro (gender neutral) and may love yapping for hours about their favourite film and the compositions, colours, lighting, music etc used in the film and how those aspects enhance the overall viewing experience of the film, they could be very active on letterbox lol. I'm also getting that one aspect you should look for in your next partner is transparency, it may sound like honesty but it is different because transparency signifies that this person will not only be honest but also take accountability if they ever go wrong somewhere and this level of accountability will build up a stronger bond and start healing the trust issues you may have from your past friendships and your relationships with your parents, because someone close to you will finally not only accept they did something wrong but also apologise and accept that.

Lastly! Look for someone who doesn't put you down, like even subtly. You may have had friends or partners in the past who may have been like "omg fr? that's so weird haha" even as a joke when it comes to your interests, but look for someone who will not put you down regardless of differing interests please I Beg.

Pile 3

Hellooo pile 3! Hyperspecific point from the very start, look for someone who knows the value of spirituality and crystals and stones that you may carry or wear on you at all times. If they even try to question your beliefs about spirituality that is not your next partner trust me. Your next partner is going to be someone who will share your interests and be on the same wavelength as you when it comes to spirituality, tarot and more.

One thing you need to look for in your next partner is that they may have a bit of an isolated or loner vibe, like they may not be big on huge gatherings and could be more introverted, they'll really appreciate their alone time and could be someone who does not divulge in PDA a lot, not only because they're shy but also because they'll believe that your business is just your business (in the rs I mean). Regardless of this they'll be someone who's very focused and goal oriented, your next partner is someone who's ready to sacrifice their comfort in the present to focus on their goals and work towards them relentlessly, they'll also be the kind of people who will let go of any comfort just to make you feel more comfortable, the kind to give you the bed and take the floor instead if there's only one bed and you don't wanna sleep together, very gentle and caring.

They'll just have this aura which screams "I welcome you and I understand" and that is exactly the kind of energy you need in your life right now. Lastly, I heard "duniya dedi" which translates to "gives you the world" so all I have to say is y'all better raise your standards and KEEP THEM RAISED!! YOU DESERVE THE BEST AND THAT'S WHAT YOU'LL GET KISSI <33

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot community #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #tarot #intuitive #intuitive readings

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allthesmutl0vers · 30 days ago

Text

Dating Fred and George Weasley Headcanons

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Masterlist Requests/Asks: OPEN (please read) Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader x George Weasley Request: Not a request just wanted to write to fight writer's block. TW: Sexual Situations, Kinks, Some Fluff, Pseudo-Twincest A/N: I feel like I ate with this, tbh. Been working on it for two mf days. 😮‍💨💞 I hope you enjoy! Comment here if you want to be added to the tag list for any/all HP content.

Please feel free to let me know how you feel about this. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. ✨💞

How you got together:

You had been friends with them forever, but you never expected them to have the same feelings towards you as you did for them. None of you were willing to admit it until it was called out by Ginny and her loud ass mouth when she told you guys to 'just fucking kiss already, for Merlin's sake.'

They had just finished a match against Slytherin and won, of course, so their adrenaline was already flooding. You had opened your mouth to fire back at Ginny with some sarcastic ass comment when Fred grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

When Fred finally pulled back, your head was in a daze, and before you could suck in a breath, George grabbed you by your waist, dipped you, and kissed you with the same passionate intensity.

After that, everything else was history, and the only thought any of you could form was, 'Why didn't we do this sooner?'

Fred

Song that best describes your relationship with Fred:

Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship (Iykyk)

Nicknames he has for you:

Darling: His go-to nickname, he uses it all of the time.

Love: Uses this one when he is being extra lovey, or giving you presents.

Sweetheart: (this one is for when you're in trouble and he wants you to know it)

Kinks:

Biting: Fred loves to bite you while he's fucking you. Leaving trails of bite marks all over your neck and going down your collarbones and, especially, between your thighs when he's eating you out. Though he never breaks the skin, he does bite hard enough to bruise. Fred's biggest turn-on is the sounds that leave your lips when he bites down hard and then licks and kisses the same spot, melting pain with pleasure until you can't tell the difference.

Bit of an exhibitionist: Nothing revs Fred up more than the risk of getting caught, especially if it's George walking in when he has you bent over, face down, ass up. He knows you're with George, too, but it's not necessarily about who catches you two in the act. It's about simply being caught.

"Looks like we've been caught, darling," he taunts with a dark chuckle and pulls your head back by your hair to make you look at George while he pile drives into you from behind. "Show Georgie how good I make you feel. Come on, let him hear how I make you scream."

Begging: Hearing you beg, 'Just fuck me already,' almost makes him break and do it. His response? Shoving his cock down your throat, all the while taunting you with little phrases like, 'What was that, darling? Didn't quite catch that,' or 'But you look so good, down on your knees begging for me.' He will definitely give you what you want, but only after tears are running down your cheeks as your need becomes almost too much to bear. Almost. He's not a complete sadist, after all.

Honorable Mentions:

Hair Pulling I mean, need I say more?

Teasing at the MOST inappropriate times, family dinner? Ha, his fingers are right at the apex of your thighs, silently challenging you to keep your facial expressions schooled.

Breeding Kink: You think he doesn't fantasize about filling you up so fucking full with cum, that it's only thanks to your birth control you haven't gotten pregnant yet? That's fucking adorable.

Favorite Positions:

Face down, ass up: What's not to love? It's the perfect position for Fred to slam into you at the brutal pace that leaves you cock-drunk. Perfect for him to either hold your hips still or slam you back onto his cock to match his pace, all the while leaving perfect little fingertip bruises on your hips. Even better is when he pulls you back, flush to his chest, a large hand holding just under your chin, supporting your weight while he leaves a trail of bite marks down your neck and shoulders while you whimper and plead for mercy, not that you actually want it, he just loves to hear you beg.

Against a wall: Being the exhibitionist he is, Fred will fuck you any and everywhere. An empty classroom, a broom closet, the locker room after an intense quidditch match, win or lose, he doesn't care. So long as he gets you. But there is just something about holding you up with your legs wrapped around him, back pinned to the wall (or a locker), that makes Fred fucking feral. The way he can watch your pupils blow with arousal, your lips part and quiver as your orgasm crashes into you like a fucking freight train, the way you tug on his hair as if you're trying to keep some semblance of grounding as you feel your soul leave your body. Fuck, he's sure he's never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life.

Spit roasting: When you're on all fours on the bed (or anywhere, really), and he pounds into you while you suck off George. Fucking you so hard it forces you to take more of George down your throat. What are brothers for? He's not sexually attracted to George, but there's nothing like watching you take his other half while he slams into you. Both of them work in a delicious and synchronized rhythm, filling you up so full that you might just burst, will burst. Body trembling while George offers you sweet praise and Fred reaches around your body, rubbing tight and fast circles over your clit; all the while, they drag you further and further down to hell or up to heaven. Is there even a difference anymore?

Random Head Canons:

Fred is more possessive, not so much that you're not allowed to have friends of the opposite sex. He knows full well he can trust you to tell him if someone makes you uncomfortable. He knows damn well you're not going to be fucking around with anyone else, given how fucking incredible he and George make you feel. Possessive in the aspect that he will brutally, if not mercilessly, prank anyone who so much as looks at you in any way that isn't platonic.

When you chastise him for these methods, he stops because you are bloody terrifying when you're truly angry. He switches to pulling you onto his lap or brushing your hair over your shoulder in front of them to reveal the litter of bite marks he made or the hickies that George made all over your neck, all with the cockiest fucking smirk on his face.

Fred's Ideal Date: While he loves being buried deep inside of you, he loves treating you to an adventure. His favorite? Walking into the forbidden forest, finding the perfect place to swim (he found the best swimming hole with a ledge to jump off of.) In the warmer months, he'll pack a lunch and take you here, loving the adrenaline rush of jumping and diving off of the small cliff ledge. Swimming behind the waterfall and exploring the caves inside with you. In the colder months, he will challenge you to a snowball fight in the courtyard, George is allowed, too, of course, but one of them will always be on your side against the other. Otherwise it's not really fair, is it?

George

Song that best describes your relationship with George:

Ride - SoMo

Nicknames he has for you:

Baby/Baby girl: Uses this as a placement for your name.

Little One: Uses this when he's teasing you; typically whispers it in your ear when his hands are around your waist. Or when he is watching Fred fuck you before he steps in and joins.

Mine/Ours: Uses this one the most in the bedroom when either he or both of them are fucking you.

Kinks:

Hickies: While Fred loves biting, George is a little more gentle. Note that I said a little. He'll fuck you like a whore in church, but he prefers to drag out the pleasure by sucking the soft skin right behind your ear all the way down your body down to your clit, right to his favorite part on your body, which brings me to my next point-

Eating you out: Holy. Fucking. Shit. If this was an Olympic sport, George would take the gold every single fucking time. Sure, Fred knows how to send you over the edge, but George takes his time. Licking and sucking your clit with slow, purposeful movements, drawing out sounds from your throat that sound inhuman. The way his fingers curl just fucking right inside of you, thrusting against that spongy spot inside of you, scissoring them to spread your walls and thrust his tongue in and out. Seriously, this man would live between your thighs if he could. Sending you over the edge again and again with just his devilish fucking tongue and fingers, he gets off on that shit, literally. This man has cum simply from eating you out before.

Edging: Remember how I said George is 'a little more gentle'? This is what I meant by that. George's favorite hobby when he's buried deep inside of you is bringing you right up to the edge, then pulling out, leaving you feeling empty as your walls clamp around nothing. You whine, and you whimper, and suddenly, he thrusts into you with a snap of his hips. Only to do it all over again.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? Is that what you want?" He teases as he only pushes his tip inside. You try to rock against him, to take him in deeper to satisfy the craving inside of you. "Hmm, I'm not sure you deserve it," he taunts as his thumb lands on your clit. Just as you open your mouth to beg, his hand grips your throat, and he slams into you so hard you see stars, his cock buried so deep that you swear you can feel him in your guts as he finally lets you cum with an Earth-shattering cry around him.

Honorable Mentions:

Choking: Because you know what would make you even more beautiful? A hand necklace. His, to be specific.

Bit of a voyeur: He loves watching you get pounded hard and fast when he typically fucks you hard and slow. The way your face contorts slightly differently when Fred is fucking you amuses him like no other.

Breeding Kink to the fucking MAX: He wants your pussy flooded with cum, if some spills out? No big deal, he'll fuck it right back into you. And after you finish school? Yeah, that shit is going into the fucking trash. (But you have no arguments, tbh.)

Favorite Positions:

Riding him: Guiding your hips, thrusting up into you as your hands rest on his chest to hold yourself up. Sure, George is dominant. But that doesn't love to see the look on your face above him as you come apart, over and over again, until you're a sweaty, shaky mess. George doesn't mind reverse- cowgirl, but he'd much rather see your face as his hand wraps around your throat just hard enough to make you dizzy as he tosses you over the edge, following right behind you.

Missionary (hear me out): Who says missionary is boring? Not you. Sure, nothing beats a bed, but George prefers you laid out across his desk. Or with your legs thrown over his shoulders, ass hanging over the bed as he stands and pounds into you. His thrusts are slow and firm, sliding into the hilt and then grinding against your core, making damned sure to draw out every last moan your body can produce.

Between him and Fred: George is not biased when it comes to fucking you in your ass or your pussy, if he's honest. So long as you're on your knees on the bed, while he's in either hole while Fred is in the other, both slamming into you with an animalistic ferocity. Filling you up so full with their cum that it'll be dripping out of you for days.

Random Head Canons:

George LOVES it when people stare/flirt with you. It drives Fred up the fucking wall when George doesn't try to brutally prank or show off just how much you're theirs. But it gets George off when guys try to flirt with you only to have a drink thrown at them, or you simply laugh at them before pointing out him and Fred. While Fred's anger is palpable, George just winks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe it's the voyeur in him, but he loves watching you interact with people, male or female, because he knows you're not going anywhere except right back to him and Fred.

George's Ideal Date: George loves to fly with you on his broom, you in front of him as he grips the broom between your thighs. His favorite time to do it is at night, flying up so high you swear you can almost touch the stars as you soar over the clouds. You know this is what you two are doing when he bundles you up in one or maybe two of his sweaters. Because Merlin forbid you get cold. If it's too cold to fly or it's snowing, he loves to take a walk to Hogsmeade and share a butterbeer. So long as he's spending time with you, he couldn't be happier.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it. Please don't forget to reblog and comment! ✨✨🤞🏻😇

#weasley twins #weasley twins smut #george weasley smut #fred weasley smut #weasley twins x reader

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vettelsvee · 4 months ago

Note

Hey, how's it going?I have been thinking, for me, Seb gives off a GREAT vibe of a big family guy, who has a big family with the person he loves, my opinion of course. Could you write something like this?

E a propósito, adoro tudo o que você escreve!!

ROADTRIP TO MONACO | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

retired sebastian vettel x wife!reader

word count: 2894

summary: seb and a pregnant y/n go and have a trip to monaco with their three little ones after seb's retirement

warnings: none, just mentions of pregnancy sickness as y/n is on her first term of her pregnancy! fluff, lots of fluff, and dad!seb

a/n: i love that seb. i actually love seb and oscar so much that the only thing i want to do is write about them. i'll be waiting your feedback, comments and requests please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated (also, so close to 1k! tysm to you all because i most of the times feel surreal with all of this and how much you seem to enjoy my fics). also, anon: hope you like this!

The soft melody of an alarm broke through the darkness of the bedroom Sebastian and you shared around one-thirty in the morning, interrupting the couple's deep sleep. Sebastian, still startled by the noise, managed to quickly stretch his arm to turn off the alarm in an attempt to fully wake up. Meanwhile, you rubbed your eyes, fighting against the tiredness.

"Is it already time to get up, sunshine?" you asked sleepily.

"Yes, darling, it's time," Seb nodded as he sat up in bed. "If we want to get to Monaco on time and avoid Charles from killing us. We should leave in about an hour and a half."

You yawned, curling up under the blankets.

"But it's too early, love… Don't you think we could, and should, sleep a little longer?"

Sebastian approached you and gently stroked your hair. He was aware that the fourth pregnancy was being a bit challenging for you compared to the previous three, despite being only in the second month.

If fatigue, nausea and dizziness were making life difficult for you at the moment, he didn't want to imagine how you would feel four months from now.

"Y/N, sweetheart, don't worry. Let me be in charge of waking up the kids and getting everything ready. You stay here and rest a little longer, okay? I promise I'll let you know when everything is ready so you only have to get in the car."

You looked at him with a tired but grateful expression. Still, you knew you had to help prepare the final details of the trip, and most importantly, make sure the kids were perfectly ready..

"Are you sure? I don't want you to take on all the work, really," you expressed with concern in your voice. "Even though I'm tired, I can help you..."

"I'm absolutely sure, darling," the man interrupted, smiling and giving you a warm kiss on the forehead. "These are the kinds of things I retired for, so focus on going back to sleep, alright? I'll see you in a bit, liebe."

"Sebastian…" you spoke again. "I'm really serious: we're in this together, and I don't want you to handle everything alone. It's a family trip, not a trip of Seb with his three kids. I want to help."

He admired your determination, but he wanted you to be treated as you deserved.

"I know, Y/N," he explained, "but I also know how tired you are. Really, allow yourself not to worry about your kids for once. I promise I'll wake you up soon enough so you can get ready."

You nodded, trying to avoid continuing the conversation and settling back into bed, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without thinking about how long your husband might take to prepare your kids.

Meanwhile, Sebastian left the room with determination and headed towards the children's rooms. Emily, Charlotte and Matilda slept all in different rooms, so he went from door to door, opening them gently and affectionately, and then approaching each bed.

He first woke up Charlotte, the middle one, who rubbed her eyes and looked at her father, confused.

"Dad, what's going on?" she asked, puzzled. "Did you have a nightmare and want to sleep with me? Or is mom having the baby?"

"No, no," Sebastian chuckled at his seven-year-old daughter's antics. "It's time to wake up. Remember we're going to Monaco today."

The little girl's eyes lit up immediately.

"Yes, that's right! We're going to your old workplace!"

After letting her fully wake up, the head of the family went to the room of the youngest, Matilda, who was four years old.

"Matilda, wake up, honey," whispered Vettel, giving her a gentle tap on her shoulder. "We have an exciting day ahead. We're going to see those fast cars daddy used to drive."

The youngest Vettel lazily stretched in his small bed and yawned. Sebastian then smiled, picking her up while she just wanted to hug Seb.

"That's what I like to see, little one," he commented, tousling her hair. "Let me dress you so mom doesn't have to worry too much, okay?"

Both the children and Sebastian hurried to get ready. There was no doubt that, despite the sleepiness, the family was full of energy and excitement for what awaited them in the country about seven hours from their residence.

After also waking up Emily, your eldest, and making sure all of them were ready, Seb put cartoons on the living room TV to keep the children entertained and returned to his room, where you were still resting, seemingly peacefully asleep.

"Honey, the kids are ready. They're waiting for us in the living room. Are you feeling better?" he whispered as softly as he could, gently stroking your arm.

You opened her eyes and sat up in bed, stretching aggressively. “Thank you so much for getting our little devils ready, I owe you one."

He tenderly kissed you on the lips.

"You don't owe me anything, you did enough effort to bring them into the world and act as both father and mother when I wasn't around. Let me help you get ready, we have a great day ahead."

Quickly, Seb helped you change you clothes, gently touching your small but already slightly prominent pregnant belly. Once you were finally dressed in sportswear for comfort, you both walked hand in hand out of the room and headed to the living room, where your children were already waiting impatiently.

After making sure everything was ready and the kids had no further needs, you all headed to the garage, quickly getting into the family car. While Sebastian made sure the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk, you took care of buckling the children up and offering them a few games or movies to keep them entertained on the way, although you were quite aware they would end up asleep.

"Are you all ready?" you inquired, turning around from the passenger seat and looking at her children with a smile as Seb began to start the car.

"Yes, mommy, let's go!" exclaimed little Matilda, who received cheers from her sisters.

With the car's engine purring softly, they set off on the Swiss roads amidst the darkness of the night, which, despite being synonymous with tiredness, brought a surge of energy to the youngest members of the family, where conversations and plans for Monaco came to the forefront.

"Do you think grandpa Norbert is going to come, Dad? I heard you talking to him the other day," exclaimed Charlotte, once again showing her admiration for Sebastian's sister. "Is grandma Heike coming too?"

"I want to hear the loud noises of the cars and see how fast they go," Emily added immediately, excited.

Sebastian smiled as he drove, very happy to hear the excitement of his children and, especially, to be sharing such an experience with you all not only after his retirement.

As the hours went by, tiredness arrived, and the children fell asleep. Quite the opposite happened with you: you woke up when you no longer heard the sudden conversations between the siblings. As you progressed along the winding roads and approached Monegasque territory, the sky began to lighten, giving them a beautiful sunrise.

"Look, honey, the sun is rising," you commented to Seb, pointing to the horizon stained with warm colors. "I can't believe we're finally arriving in Monaco after weeks of waiting..."

After a couple more hours of driving, and lively conversation among the family resulting from a brief stop for breakfast and in your case, vomiting a couple of times, you arrived in Monaco. The city looked completely different from any other time of the year as the streets were adorned with flags and banners for the Grand Prix. Furthermore, the grandstands, the paddock, and the countless yachts docked in the harbor made Monte Carlo seem even richer than it already was.

"We're here, guys," Sebastian announced to his children sweetly. "If you need something, just make sure to tell me, alright?”

Seb parked the Mercedes in a parking lot reserved for VIP guests, and then got out of the car to help you. He made then a phone call, possibly to Leclerc, your kids began to stroke your belly. You reacted early and quickly moved them away, aware that journalists and paparazzi could discover the secret.

"Let's follow dad, guys," you whispered to them, getting down to their level. "And remember: no one, not Uncle Charles or anyone who asks you, can know that dad and I have made a little baby, okay?"

The children nodded in response to your question, which somewhat reassured you were still nervous. However, the excitement began to set in as you walked alongside your kids, following Seb towards the place where the free practice sessions would take place, partially pushing aside your worries. The sound of the engines grew louder with each step you took, with the youngest of the family covering her ears with his little hands.

"Look, mommy: there's the Ferrari team!" exclaimed Emily pointing towards the red team's garage.

Charles appeared in his racing suit, as Free Practice was set to begin in just thirty minutes.

As soon as he spotted your husband, who was slightly ahead of all of you, he raised his arms in the air with great joy at seeing him again on the circuits, a wide smile adorning his face.

"Charles!" exclaimed Seb when he finally reached the Monegasque, giving him a strong hug. "Thank you so much for inviting us. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. The kids are very excited to be here, and especially to see you."

Leclerc returned the hug to the German, reminiscing about the two years they were teammates.

"You don't have to thank me, Seb," replied the Ferrari driver. "I'm sure Emily and Charlie remember something, but I know it's all new for Matilda. Anyway, I'm sure they'll enjoy it like the first time, just like Y/N!"

As the conversation continued between the two men, you and the kids surrounded the Ferrari driver, who felt a bit shy seeing the children's excited faces.

"Thank you, Charles," you expressed with your little ones embracing you somewhat shyly. "We're very grateful that you made it possible for us to come," you leaned closer to the Monegasque and whispered: "and don't tell anyone, but despite Ferrari's shitty strategies, you're doing great."

After a few minutes of conversation catching up on your respective live, and where Seb almost revealed you were expecting your fourth child, Charlotte, Emily and Matilda crowded around Charles, excited to see their father's former teammate again. Despite the constant denials from the team engineers, he managed to let your kids have a close look at his car.

"Look," said Charles, excitedly, pointing to the vehicle, "this is the car I'll be practicing with today, and that's my teammate's, Carlos," he pointed to the car beside it. "What do you think?"

The children's eyes widened with passion as they began to examine the car closely.

"Can we touch it, Uncle Charles?" asked the four-year-old, grabbing Leclerc's race suit pants.

Charles smiled, nodding enthusiastically, inwardly melting at the scene he was witnessing. He wished he could see himself like that with Olivia in a few years.

"Of course, but do it quickly so you father doesn’t get fined again," he said jokingly.

While the kids explored the car, and after you joined them shortly after, Charles and Seb began to converse animatedly yet seriously about the expectations for the Grand Prix and the sensations he had so far in the 2024 Formula 1 season.

The sudden hustle in the Ferrari garage made it clear that Free Practice 1 was about to begin. Sebastian and Charles had their conversation interrupted when Leclerc's beloved engineer insisted he get into the car as soon as possible. It was finally time for you to head to the corresponding grandstand to enjoy the practice session.

The Monegasque was forced, much to his regret, to interrupt his conversation with the your husband. Seb, however, understood, and immediately turned to you all, who were eagerly waiting to go to the best spot to watch the cars go around.

"Come with me, kids," notedhim, "it's time to go up to the VIP grandstand to get a better view of the session."

Taking Matilda in his arms, holding his daughters' hands with his free hand, and with you on his left, you all formed a little chain to avoid getting lost in the commotion on you way to the designated spot.

You were moved by the scene you were witnessing. Holding onto Seb's free arm, you tried to control your tears as your followed your husband's lead.

Minutes later, you had found your reserved seats, but numerous fans who had recognized Seb had delayed him. You were used to this, as were your kids. Moreover, none of your minded as they were aware that Seb had done great things for and in the world of motorsport.

“Look dad!”, exclaimed Emily excitedly as her father sat down next to her, “That's Charles! He's going really fast!”

"Yes, he's going fast indeed, Emily," Seb answered, still in shock at what he was witnessing after many time.

As the practice hour progressed, you captured some moments of the family with your camera, all of them fully caught up in the energy emanating from the circuit at that moment. The applause and words of encouragement, though impossible to hear for the drivers, were felt as the local hero made his appearance on the track.

When it came to an end, faster than they thought, you all made your way back to the Ferrari garage, where Charles had promised to meet his former teammate after the session.

Once there, you saw the blue-eyed with his girlfriend, Alexandra, engaged in lively conversation, likely about what had happened on the track during the previous hour. Charles, upon seeing Sebastian with you at the garage door, hurried over as fast as he could.

"Seb, I thought you'd be gone!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I didn't get to see you: you know, speed problems," he laughed at his own bad joke, "but I'm sure you had a good time, and your amazing wife and kids did too, right?"

Matilda and Charlotte shouted in unison. You and Emily nodded quickly.

"I'm really impressed, Charles," Vettel said enthusiastically. "Apart from the track being in wonderful condition, the weather cooperating, and not having too many idiots running around today, your performance has been incredible."

Alex joined the conversation, greeting your and the kids first, and then Seb.

"It's been wonderful seeing you in the stands. I wish I didn't have to stay locked up in the garage all day, but there are these crazy Charles fangirls out there..." she joked.

You laughed at the comment. If she only knew all that you had to go through in the early years of your relationship with Seb…

"Anyways…" Leclerc began, placing his arm around his girlfriend's waist. "Alex and I have been talking these past few days and we'd like to ask you if you'd like to join us for dinner tonight. It would be nice for us to spend some time together, just relaxing, and celebrate that you've finally come back around here," he explained, looking directly at your husband.

"But really, if it's any inconvenience for you," she hurried to add, "or if you need to head back home or..."

Sebastian looked at you, who nodded excitedly at the proposal.

"It would be an honor, Charles."

After exchanging details for the dinner, they bid farewell momentarily due to Leclerc's press commitments. During that time, you returned to the hotel where you would stay for a couple of days to freshen up and prepare for dinner, as managing three children wasn't an easy or simple task.

When you met again, this time at the restaurant, you were warmly welcomed by its members. Dinner unfolded amid laughter and lively conversations, mostly revolving around Formula 1 anecdotes and your private lives.

As the night progressed, Seb and Charles delved into deeper topics about the world that absorbed so much of their lives. Alex and you, on the other hand, got to know each other more and realized they had more in common than you initially thought.

The children, meanwhile, were having the time of their lives: Charlie, Emily, and Matilda, who fell asleep early, spent the night playing games with the young couple, who still seemed like kids in your eyes.

"I hope you've enjoyed the day, guys," Charles said, raising his glass of wine. "I hope we can enjoy many more moments together, especially when the little one comes because, Y/N, I know there’s a reason why you’re not drinking alcohol when you like wine so much."

"Cheers!" you all exclaimed while you tried not to get nervous and more shy than you actually were, laughing at the revealed secret.

As you continued to enjoy the delicious food, along with the laughter and entertaining stories, you knew that trip to Monaco would become a cherished memory in the years to come. There was no doubt you should definitely do this more often and, above all, around the world if given the chance, something you had been waiting for years.

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band--psycho · 2 months ago

Text

Harvey Specter x Reader - Fight

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support!

It's been a while since I've written for Harvey!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

For my ongoing A-Z Challenge and for @shamelesstrekkie13 who requested this story a few months ago (Part 2)

Masterlist / Harvey Specter Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Angst, Harvey being mean

“Hey handsome,” Y/n said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked at the man she loved, who’d recently been working himself to the bone for his new client.

“Hey baby,” Harvey greeted back, looking up momentarily to smile at her before his eyes went straight back to the paperwork in front of him.

Her smile fell slightly.

This case had been a nightmare, and the client had been nothing but an arrogant, pain in the ass.

For the last month, Harvey had been working diligently on this case, but the last few weeks were when things got really stressful.

She didn’t know why. She couldn’t know why. Client Confidentiality and all, but she’d seen a change in Harvey.

And this last week had been the tipping point, all he’d done for the past week was work; he’d barely even slept, and it showed, he was snappy with pretty much everyone, Louis, Mike even Donna…of course Donna and Mike understood why, this case was huge for not just Harvey but for the firm too, but he needed a break.

Y/n tried to never intervene with Harveys work, she knew better than anyone how a case could take over ones life, she had fallen victim to it more than a few times, allowing the case and the clients to take precedence over everything else, including herself and Harvey was always there by her side, to pull her out of the work she’d buried herself in so deeply.

Now it was her turn to do the same for him.

To help him the way he’d always helped her.

“It’s late,” she continued as she made her way into his office, stopping just a few inches away from his desk, “We should go home.”

Harvey leaned back in his chair, a small sigh falling from his lips as he once again pulled his eyes away from his paperwork to look at Y/n, the dark circles under his eyes evident now that she was closer to him.

“You go, I’m gonna stay here,”

“Harv-”

“I’m okay,” he assured her; with a smile she knew was fake.

Harvey was not someone who got stressed easily, in all the years she’d known him, she’d rarely known it to happen, and of course he would never admit that he ‘the great Harvey Specter’ was in fact stressed and exhausted.

“No you’re not,” she stated softly, moving around the desk so that she was standing next to Harvey.

Two lawyers dating was never easy, the long hours, the schedules, it was hard to spend quality time together but they’d always managed it, no matter what was happening at work.

She missed him. She missed how his fingers would brush against her waist when he held her close, missed the forehead kisses he would give her just as she was falling to sleep, missed hearing his laugh when they’d watch a shitty comedy show; she missed being close to him.

She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help how she felt.

Being this close to him, she saw how big and dark the circles under his eyes were; if she had the strength she’d just pick him up and remove him from the office, take him home and let him rest. But she was not that strong, so she was going to have to work on trying to persuade him.

She reached her arm out to him, placing her hand on his cheek, caressing it softly,“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

A few moments of silence passed, before Harvey pressed a soft kiss on the palm of her hand, Y/n thought that meant that he was listening to her and that he was going to come home with her and get some much needed rest.

That was until Harveys hand lightly grabbed her wrist and placed it back into her lap.

“I’ve got work to do,” he replied simply, turning his attention back to his paperwork.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to work out what she could say to him that wouldn’t aggravate him and would get him to listen to her.

“Harvey, you need to sleep,” she pointed out, the worry in her eyes growing with every moment that passed between them.

“I do sleep,” he answered bluntly; his tone catching Y/n off guard completely.

“Not for more than a few hours you don’t,” she challenged back, it was going to take more then his blunt tone to make her leave.

Why wouldn’t he just listen to her? Why couldn’t he see that all she was trying to do was help? Why did he have to be so difficult?

“I’m fin-”

“No you’re not,”

“Sorry, when did you become a therapist?” He snapped, the fury in his eyes evident as he looked at her once more, “I said I’m fine and I meant it”

“Look, I know you’re tired but you can’t keep snapping at people like this,” she reasoned, or at least attempted to. Y/n knew if he kept going on like this, he would end up making an enemy of everyone in his firm.

“I will snap at anyone who interrupts me from doing my goddamn work, and that includes you,”

“You’re not going to get any work done unless you rest properly,” she was trying so hard to keep her cool, to keep calm, he was exhausted and stressed, he was just snapping at her because she was there.

But she could feel her anger slowly beginning to build; she knew how he felt, she understood why he was acting and talking the way he was, but it didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

“Well you’re always pretty well rested and I’m still a better lawyer than you,”

That. That comment felt like a slap in the face to Y/n.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and stop herself from lashing out and adding fuel to an already growing fire.

“Harvey-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, before he was already talking again, his pupils dilated and his tone harsh, “What? You want me to apologize for telling the truth? There’s a reason you work at Rand, Kaldor and Zayne and not here,”

And that was the tipping point. To get snappy at her was one thing, but to mock where she worked, her profession that she worked so hard for was another thing entirely.

She wanted to shout back at him and she was going to, until she realised there was no point; all her shouting would do would cause an argument, one where they just took cheap shots at each other until one of them said something they couldn’t come back from.

She wasn’t going to do that.

She didn’t have the energy.

So she walked towards the door of Harvey’s office; only turning around to look at him and say one simple sentence. Her voice was a calm as she could get it, but it still had a hint of anger laced in it, “You know why I don’t work here,”

And then she left Harvey.

Alone in his office.

And Y/n tried not to let her anger turn into tears as she headed towards the elevator, leaving the firm.

Tagging:

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stylesispunk · 9 months ago

Text

"Where is my love?"

Joel miller x f! reader

summary: Isn't she coming to me?

w.c: 7k>

warning: angst, mentions of death, and grief.

a/n: this is a sad one and closer to my heart because grieving is the love we can give to people who are gone. The only change of this is that has been ten years since the "end of the world" and is based on the last chapter of the show. reblogs and comments are always appreciated and for the love of god, can you please help me with inspo for writing, I want to write for other characters, so if you have any suggestions are welcome. Have a lovely reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika

masterlist

Your paths crossed a long time ago. When the world had descended into madness, the souls met the dead in a now forgotten land. He came across you, and he fell in love with you. The sunlight radiating after the freezing storm was a fire keeping his brittle heart warm.

You had saved him from ending his own life that day, when he had lost faith in a horror movie without an ending or a purpose. He did lose everything he had known—everything he had ever loved and protected—but he had met you.

For him, you were an angel, not delicate nor free from sins, but an angel who appeared after he thought he had met his spirit in heaven.

You have looked after him and Tommy for days, taking care of their well-being and taking care of the reminiscing scar plastered on Joel’s forehead as a reminder of his almost-death encounter with his angel, you.

And you had loved him ever since; you found yourself increasingly drawn to him, not just for his vulnerability under your eyes but because he had brought sense back to life. His presence seemed to chase away the shadows that had been going to hunt you since now.

As the days turned into weeks, months, and then years, the bond between you and Joel only grew stronger. You found yourself drawn to his strength, his resilience in the face of adversity, and the way he faced each day with unwavering determination.

You had loved him after acknowledging every terrible thing he had done, and you loved him anyway. The darkness inside of him, taunted by the loss of the previous time, didn’t prevent you from looking at him as if he hung the stars of the sky. You both looked at night before sleeping, trying to find some reassurance.

Together, you faced the challenges, from the first days of the end of the world to the QZ, to Ellie, to where you were right now, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

Now, here in Jackson, in the quiet moment before sleep, you and Joel would still gaze up at the stars, finding solace in the vastness of the night sky. And as you held each other close, you found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

Joel broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with the weight of years gone by. "You know, I never thought I'd find this kind of peace again. Not after everything that's happened."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness. "We've been through hell and back, Love. But somehow, we made it together."

He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort your touch brought to him. "I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice breaking a little.

"You don't have to find out," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."

Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the heavens above. "Yeah, together," he echoed, as if trying to convince himself of the truth of those words.

"You will never lose me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "And I'll always be here to guide you home."

He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips over his skin. "I love you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain and longing.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you.

Being in Jackson brought you back to a civilization, to peace, to a place where you could both sleep next to each other at the same time without fearing other people coming for you.

But as much as you cherished the peace and stability that Jackson provided, you couldn't escape the reality of everyday life. With it came the mundane challenges, the petty conflicts, and the occasional tension that threatened to disrupt the tranquility you had found together. There were disagreements, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration that tested the strength of your relationship.

You felt a rush of joy as you entered the door of your Jackson home. You couldn't wait to tell Joel about the trade you had made, so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction.

"Joel," you called out, your voice full of anticipation as you approached the living room where he was sitting. "Guess what? "I made a trade today."

Joel looked up from his book, interest in his eyes. "A trade?" "What did you get?"

You smiled, holding out the little camera you'd traded for some extra food supplies. "I exchanged some of our extra coffee for this camera! It's in excellent condition, and I thought we might use it to save some memories."

As you proudly showed the camera, Joel's initial curiosity turned into an unhappy face. He set down his book and looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and stress.

"You traded all of our extra coffee for a camera?" Joel repeated, his voice filled with frustration. "We rely on that coffee, you understand. It's not simply an extravagance; it's a product in high demand here in Jackson."

You faltered, understanding the potential repercussions of your impulsive trade. "I know, Joel, but I thought..."

"You thought what?" Joel interjected, his irritation growing. "That a camera was more important than having enough food to get us through the winter? "What if something happens and we need that coffee?"

You bit your lip, feeling a sense of remorse rush over you. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought it would be wonderful to have something to save our memories."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I understand, but we must prioritize our needs before our wants. You cannot go out there and make bad decisions."

His words hurt, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't plan to compromise your safety, but in your excitement, you forgot to consider the repercussions of your actions.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you said quietly, feeling a sensation of shame rush over you. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being this childish," he murmured, strolling past you to the kitchen and leaving you in

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being so childish," he replied, walking past you to the kitchen and leaving you in the living room with a bitter taste in your mouth.

A wave of guilt swept over you. You didn't mean to act impulsively or selfishly, but you now see that your actions had far-reaching implications.

Feeling the weight of Joel's disappointment, you remained in the living room, staring at the camera in your hands, your heart heavy. You realized he was correct; you needed to be more responsible and more aware of the circumstances and the actions that could affect your survival; being at peace in a place did not imply the risk had passed.

With a heavy sigh, you lay the camera down on the table, the excitement you had felt earlier replaced with a sense of regret. Joel's words lingered in your head, reminding you of the excitement you had felt earlier, replaced by a sense of remorse. Joel's words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the need to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You walked upstairs to your room, and with a heavy heart, you lay in bed, the events of the day on your mind. Despite the comfort of the blankets that surrounded you, you couldn't shake the sense of remorse and sorrow that persisted within you.

You closed your eyes and replayed the conversation with Joel in your head, each word stinging like a sharp reminder of your failure. You knew you'd let him down, and the thought gnawed at you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of Joel's disappointment gradually began to lighten. A few hours later, you awoke to the faint click of a camera shutter. Blinking sleepily, you opened your eyes to see Joel standing by the bedside, a tiny smile on his lips as he held the camera.

"What are you doing?" you said, your voice still laced with sleepiness.

Joel chuckled and lowered his camera as he neared the bed. "Just capturing a moment," he said, his eyes filled with adoration as he glanced down at you. In confusion, you furrowed your brow and sat up slightly in bed. "A moment of me sleeping?" you asked, feeling both amused and fascinated.

Joel nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, a second while you sleep. You looked beautiful; I couldn’t resist."

Despite the lingering anger from earlier, Joel's gesture made you feel warm. It was a modest act, but it showed a lot about his remorse and faith in your relationship. Reaching out, you took the camera from Joel's hands, studying the image of yourself sleeping soundly.

"I look horrible," you muttered. Joel softened his smile and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Liar," he muttered. "Sorry for how I acted earlier." He moved forward, pressing his lips against your cheek this time.

"You're just an old, grumpy man," you remember, with a tiny giggle. His soft kisses eased the tension between you. His amusing response lightened the mood and lifted the sadness that had been in your heart.

"Old grumpy man, huh?" Joel chuckled, shaking his head in mock indignation. “I’ll show you what this old, grumpy man can do,” he said, planting a more urgent kiss on your lips this time.

You worked hard in the weeks following your fight with Joel to repair the distance that had grown between you. Despite the apparent signs of peacemaking, you still had a persistent sense of insecurity.

Then a new woman arrived in Jackson. She was closer to Joel's age, and you couldn't help but notice the easy connection that had developed between them. They spent a lot of time together, whether on patrol with Tommy or speaking in the common areas of Jackson.

You tried to ignore the jealousy that was bubbling up inside of you. After all, Joel had always been polite and accommodating to strangers, so there was no reason to suspect anything other than friendship between them.

But as the days went on and you saw Joel and the new woman form a stronger bond, your concern grew. You couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that there was something more between them—something that harmed the precious trust you'd worked so hard to build.

On today's evening, as you watched Joel and the woman laugh from across the room, you felt a pang of jealousy. You excused yourself and withdrew from the privacy of your thoughts since you could no longer contain your feelings.

You were alone in the living room, struggling with opposite emotions. Part of you felt ashamed for doubting Joel and allowing jealousy to cloud your thinking. But another part of you couldn't help but feel sad and insecure as if you weren't enough for him; after all, it wasn't just you, him, and Ellie outdoors any longer, and here in Jackson, you weren't the last woman in the world.

As you sat alone in the living room, buried in your thoughts, the sound of steps broke your state of trance. Looking up, you noticed Ellie enter the home, looking bright and cheerful, until she spotted your teary eyes.

"Hey, I missed you at dinner in the bar," Ellie said, concern etching her features as she approached you. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to brush off her concern with a forced smile, but Ellie wasn't fooled. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice betraying the turmoil within you.

But Ellie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She moved closer, her gaze searching yours with intensity. "No, it's not. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Your heart ached at the concern in Ellie's eyes, and despite your best efforts to hold back the tears, they continued to fall. "I...I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I just...I don't know where Joel is."

Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Joel? He's eating with Tommy and the new girl, why?"

You shook your head, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you repeated, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm you once more. "I just...I need to talk to him."

Sensing the urgency in your voice, Ellie nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go find him," she said, taking your hand and leading you out of the house.

As you followed Ellie towards the bar, your heart raced with fear and anticipation. You knew that whatever awaited you there, you couldn't continue to let your doubts and insecurities consume you.

Once inside the bar, you noticed Joel in the crowd, his gaze settling on yours with a warmth that shot an emotion through your chest. It was as if a magnetic force drew you closer together, despite any remaining doubts.

You moved across the crowded bar, Ellie's hand firmly clutched in yours, Joel's smile widening, and his gaze never leaving yours.

Finally reaching Joel's side, you felt a wave of relief sweep over you as he held you in his arms. The warmth of his hug swept away the residual frost of doubt, leaving you with an eager sense of calm and belonging.

"I missed you," Joel murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into Joel's embrace, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only you and Joel locked in a tender embrace. It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt, allowing you to savor the precious moments you shared together.

As Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, you felt a rush of emotion swell within you, a profound gratitude for the love and support he had always shown you.

As the tender moment between you and Joel lingered, a voice interrupted, pulling you back to the present. "Hey, Joel!" called out a cheerful voice, and you turned to see a woman approaching, a bright smile on her face.

Joel turned to face the stranger, his arm still wrapped over you protectively. "Oh, hey Rachel," he said, a warm smile on his face. "This is my girlfriend," he added, introducing you. Then he turned his face to introduce the stranger to you. "This is Rachel, and she is new to Jackson."

You smiled politely at Rachel, but a tinge of dread came over you as you watched how she drew in closer to Joel, her hand casually resting on his free arm. You repressed a jealous pang and pushed yourself to keep a friendly demeanor, even though your heart squeezed with uncertainty.

"It's nice to meet you, Rachel," you said, your voice solid despite the tumult inside you.

Rachel returned the welcome with a warm grin, and her eyes flickered with intrigue as she glanced. between you and Joel. "Likewise," she replied, her tone friendly but tinged with a hint of flirtation.

As the night went on, you couldn't ignore the sense of unease that hung in the air. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, Rachel's lingering touches and seductive glances at Joel gnawed at your insides, stoking the jealousy that threatened to engulf you.

With each passing moment, it became more difficult to ignore Joel and Rachel's growing friendship. Their laughter and friendly banter got on your nerves, reminding you of the bond that they had.

You tried to ignore your misgivings and enjoy the evening with Joel, but insecurity weighed heavily on you. It felt like you were on the outside looking in, watching helplessly as Joel and Rachel got closer with each passing second.

Rachel's flirtations became more daring as the night progressed, her touches lingering a bit too long and her laughter provocative. Despite your best attempts to remain calm, the jealousy simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode.

You stole looks toward Joel, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes, but he seemed unaware of the impact Rachel's actions were having on you. It was as if she had enchanted him, consuming all of his attention.

You excused yourself from the table, unable to take the sight of Joel and Emily's flirtatious behavior any longer. You could understand, after all, that Joel was a handsome man who hadn't received this much attention since the world ended; yet, that didn't make it any less painful.

As you excused yourself from the table, a slew of feelings surged through you—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of isolation. You longed for Joel's reassurance, his acknowledgment of the hurt that Rachel's behavior was causing you, but as you stole a glance at him, you saw only obliviousness in his gaze.

With a heavy heart, you moved away, your footsteps quietly echoing on the bar's hardwood floor. You felt Joel's stare on your back, but you couldn't force yourself to look into his eyes, scared of what you might find reflected there.

As you approached the edge of the room, you hesitated, your back facing Joel, struggling to find the perfect words. Finally, you spoke, hardly rising above a whisper. "I need some air," you remarked, your voice filled with anguish.

After a period of silence, you felt Joel's hand on your arm, warm and soothing. "Hey," he replied quietly, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of longing and frustration. "I just...I need some time," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be outside."

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with understanding as he nodded in response. "I'll come find you," he promised, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand.

But instead, as you walked towards the house, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on you, you felt Joel's presence beside you. His steps were quiet, but his presence was comforting, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain.

"Hey," Joel said softly, his voice breaking the silence between you. "I'm sorry about back there. I didn't realize... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You glanced sideways at Joel, the warmth of his gaze softening the edges of your frustration. "It's not your fault," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."

Joel fell into a step beside you, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. "I just want you to know that you're the only one for me," he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. "No one else matters, not like you do."

“You could have told her about it,” you said, frustration edging into your tone.

Joel's expression faltered slightly at your words, a hint of defensiveness flickering in his eyes. "I didn't think it was necessary," he replied, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't want to embarrass her or make things awkward."

You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the sting of jealousy and insecurity reigniting in your chest. "But by not saying anything, you made me feel like my feelings didn't matter," you countered, your voice tinged with hurt. "You made me doubt myself; doubt us."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just didn't know how to handle the situation."

The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. You wanted to believe Joel's assurances of love and devotion, but the lingering doubts and insecurities threatened to cloud your judgment.

"I need to rest," you said, changing the subject, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Tomorrow, we need to get up early for the patrol.”

“Actually, I’m not coming with you,” he said carefully.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll promise Rachel to...“

The air crackled with tension as Joel's words hung between you, his admission weighing heavily on your heart. Anger flared within you, fueled by hurt and betrayal.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice laced with frustration and disappointment. "Why would you choose her over me?

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with regret. "I’m not choosing her over you; I would never do that," he replied, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't realize it would upset you."

You shook your head, unable to hide your frustration. "You should have talked to me about it first," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have considered my feelings."

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Joel, the ache of disappointment echoing within you. As you retreated into the solitude of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could withstand this latest test or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unresolved conflicts and broken promises.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” you exclaimed as you kept walking.

The next morning dawned with a strong sense of tension in the air, the previous night's events still fresh in your mind. As you awoke from your sleep and began to prepare for the day ahead, the pain of disappointment and deceit chewed at your heart, casting a shadow on the early sun.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside any remaining doubts and concerns, determined to focus on the task at hand. As you approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a soothing reminder of Joel's presence.

You discovered him standing by the counter, holding a warm mug of coffee, and preparing a second cup for you. His expression was solemn.

His eyes were downcast, as if weighted down by the events of the night before.

"Morning, angel," he said, his voice tinged with regret, as he gave you the mug. "I made some coffee."

“Thank you, but I’m leaving,” you replied, shortly walking towards the door.

"Angel, wait," Joel called out, his voice pleading as he reached out to gently grasp your arm, halting your departure. His touch was warm against your skin, a silent plea for you to stay and hear him out.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to escape the tension that hung between you and the longing to resolve the issues that had driven a wedge between you and Joel. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

“Take care; you know your safety is the most important thing for me,” he reassured, meeting your sad gaze.

"What a shame you're not going to be there to protect me," you replied bitterly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. The words spilled out before you could stop them, a reflection of the pain and frustration that churned within you.

Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with remorse as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.

Joel closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with longing and remorse. It was a silent reassurance of his love and commitment, a promise to mend the wounds that had been inflicted upon your relationship.

As the kiss lingered, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. Despite the pain and hurt, you knew that Joel was sincere in his desire to make things right, and you were willing to give him another chance.

Pulling away, Joel met your gaze with a mixture of regret and determination. "We'll talk when you get back," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be here waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of agreement, you returned Joel's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your shared commitment to each other.

As you and Tommy ventured out on patrol, the rhythm of your footsteps echoed against the deserted streets of Jackson. The tension that had weighed heavily on you began to ease slightly, replaced by a sense of purpose as you focused on the task at hand.

"So, what happened between you and Joel?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. His voice was filled with concern, and his eyes were studying your expression carefully.

You sighed, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "We had an argument," you admitted reluctantly, the words heavy on your tongue. "I just don't know how to trust him again."

Tommy nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get it," he said softly. "But you have to remember, Joel cares about you more than anything. He'd do anything to protect you, even if he doesn't always show it the right way."

You mulled over Tommy's words, the weight of his reassurance providing some measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty that plagued you. Despite the doubts that lingered in your mind, you knew that, deep down, Joel's intentions were genuine and his love for you was unwavering.

"I know," you replied, a sense of resolve creeping into your voice. "I just need to figure things out."

Tommy placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with empathy. "You will," he said confidently. "And when you do, Joel will be right there waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of gratitude, you continued on your patrol, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your shoulders but with a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Tommy's support and reassurance, knowing that with his guidance and the strength of your bond with Joel, you would find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

“Of course, you will say nice things about your stupid brother,” you joked.

Tommy chuckled at your jest, the sound carrying through the quiet streets as you continued on your patrol. "Hey, he may be stubborn and thick-headed sometimes, but Joel's got a good heart," he said with a grin. "And he cares about you more than anything."

You couldn't help but smile at Tommy's words, grateful for his unwavering support and his ability to see the best in Joel, even in the midst of conflict. "Thanks, Tommy," you said sincerely, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "I appreciate it."

Tommy nodded in response, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime," he replied, his voice laced with warmth. "We're family, after all. And family sticks together, no matter what."

As you and Tommy continued your patrol around Jackson, everything was eerily quiet, with the only sound being the subtle crunch of gravel beneath your feet. The weight of insecurity lingered in the air, but you pressed on, determined to do your job and safeguard your town.

A group of people appeared from the shadows unexpectedly, their faces hidden by the night's darkness. Your heart jumped into your throat as you understood the danger that was immediately surrounding you.

You weren't a weak person; in fact, people considered you a powerful fighter, always merciless when it was required and determined to save the ones you cared about, so your instincts kicked in and your senses heightened as adrenaline flowed through veins. Despite the suddenness of the attack, you maintained your composure, guided by your training and expertise.

Until one of them grabbed you and pinned you down, your heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. You struggled against their hold, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to break free. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the grip of your assailant remained firm, their strength overpowering.

With a surge of desperation, you summoned all your strength and training, channeling it into a fierce struggle to break free. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to overcome this unexpected obstacle and emerge victorious.

Beside you, Tommy fought valiantly against the other attackers, his determination matching your own as he defended against the onslaught. Though outnumbered and caught off guard, you refused to give in, clinging to the hope that help would soon arrive.

“So, you’re Joel’s Miller girl,” a feminine voice said.

The voice cut through the chaos, freezing you momentarily as you tried to recognize the mocking tone. Despite the tense situation, a surge of anger flared within you at the mention of Joel's name. You refused to let fear or intimidation weaken your resolve.

With renewed determination, you continued to struggle against your assailant's hold, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. Every fiber of your being was focused on breaking free and finding a way to overcome this threat and protect yourself and Tommy.

“Tommy!” you exclaimed, worry creeping up with you.

“I’m fine!” he reassured back.

“What do you want?” You asked the girl, who is now in front of you.

The girl smirked, her eyes filled with venom as she peered down at you, pinned under her. "What do I want?" she said, her voice full of scorn. "I'd like to send a message to your dear Joel. I want him to understand that no one is safe, including his girl."

Her statements enraged your fury, but you kept calm, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of her remarks. "And what message would that be?" you asked, your voice steady despite what was occurring.

As she drew in closer, the girl's smirk deepened, and her eyes took on a malicious glitter. "The message is simple," she stated, her voice low and frightening. "I will take away what he loves.

the most from him, as he did with me.”

“What?” but before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain through your abdomen.

The sharp pain ripped through your abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped in shock. A guttural cry of agony escaped your lips as you felt blood seeping from the wound, staining your clothes crimson.

The girl's cruel laughter echoed in your ears as she withdrew the weapon, a twisted smirk of satisfaction twisting her features. "That's the message," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice.

You didn’t want to die here without seeing the smiles of the people you loved.

Your vision blurred as waves of pain washed over you, threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. Through the haze of agony, you fought to stay conscious, your thoughts consumed by a desperate need to survive, to make it back to Joel, to warn him of the danger that now threatened you both.

“Hey, stay with me. I’m taking you to Jackson,” Tommy said desperately, but his voice was just an echo at this time.

The world seemed to spin around you as you fought to hold onto consciousness, Tommy's voice barely registering amidst the haze of pain and confusion. Every fiber of your being screamed in agony, but you refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you.

With a herculean effort, you summoned whatever strength remained within you, clinging to Tommy's words like a lifeline. Through sheer force of will, you forced your eyes to focus, locking onto Tommy's determined gaze as he lifted you into his arms.

The journey back to Jackson was a blur of agony and desperation, with each step sending waves of pain coursing through your battered body. But with every labored breath, you clung to the hope that burned within you—a determination to survive and protect those you loved.

As the walls of Jackson loomed into view, relief flooded through you, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Tommy's unwavering support, you stumbled towards safety, with the promise of medical aid and the comfort of Joel's embrace urging you forward.

As you were carried through the gates of Jackson, the weight of exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm you.

Tommy stepped into Jackson's doors, crying out for help as you lay practically still in his arms. The wound in your stomach was major, and he couldn't shake the thought that you would die as a result of his inability to protect you.

As Tommy stormed through the doors of Jackson, his voice buzzing with desperation, terror spread throughout the neighborhoods. People turned their heads, concerned expressions on their faces, as they saw you almost unresponsive in his arms, crimson blood covering the clothes you were wearing.

A crowd swiftly gathered around Tommy, their alarming murmuring filling the air. Tommy ignored them, focusing entirely on getting you the help you so desperately needed.

As Tommy went towards the improvised infirmary, frantic yells sounded out, requesting the medical attention they had here. His steps were heavy with guilt, and each instant seemed to last forever as he feared the worst.

Finally, the infirmary doors swung open, and a team of medics led by Jackson hurried forward to take you from Tommy's arms. They worked fast and effectively, their expressions serious as they assessed the seriousness of your injury.

Tommy stood back, his hands quivering with terror and remorse, as he saw the doctor rush into action. He couldn't shake the notion that your condition was a result of his failing to safeguard you from harm.

Joel's heart was tight with fear when he saw a commotion near the infirmary. Without hesitation, he raced towards the crowd, his instincts screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible.

Joel's heart raced in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the infirmary entrance. He saw you, pale and frail, in the arms of the doctors, your life hanging in limbo.

Joel moved forward without hesitation, arms outstretched, reaching for you. "No," he murmured hoarsely, terror and desperation evident in his tone. "Please, don't let her die."

The medics stepped aside, allowing Joel to take you into his arms. As he held you close, he could feel the warmth of your body against his, but it was too still, too fragile. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, silently praying for your recovery.

“Hey, angel,” he murmured, finding strength in his voice. “Open those beautiful eyes of yours for me, baby, okay? Please, do it!” He continued sobbing as he caressed your hair. “I can lose everything, but not you... Oh god, not you, please?”

Joel kept holding you in his arms, preventing you from going away from him, and you could feel his touch, his care, and his voice pleading with you to stay with him. You wanted that, you wanted so bad, but the strength was dying inside you, and everything you ever knew went black.

You became a lifeless frame in the arms of your biggest love. When you stopped breathing, Joel’s heart stopped beating because, as if it was glass, it shattered.

The look of the doctor and the face of Tommy told them the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, confirming the unthinkable: you were gone. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Joel's world shattered around him. He clung to your lifeless form, his body racked with sobs as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss.

"No, no, please," Joel choked out, his voice breaking with grief as he held you close, unwilling to accept the truth of what had just happened. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the silence of the infirmary.

For a moment, time stood still as Joel clung to you, unwilling to let go and unwilling to accept that you were gone. The world around him blurred, and the pain in his heart was too overwhelming to bear.

But as the reality of your loss settled over him, Joel's grief turned to rage, a primal, consuming fury that burned through him like wildfire. With a guttural cry of anguish, he cradled you in his arms, his body trembling with the force of his emotions.

In that moment, Joel felt as if his world had come crashing down around him, leaving nothing but darkness and despair in its wake. He had lost everything—the love of his life, his reason for living, his angel.

And as he held you close, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost and the life that had been snuffed out too soon. For Joel, the world had ceased to exist, consumed by the gaping void left in the wake of your passing.

He was never going to kiss you again; he was never going to hold you close at night or wake up to your smile in the morning. The future he had imagined, filled with laughter and love, now lay shattered at his feet.

A few hours later, Joel woke up in your shared bed, and you were sleeping next to him.

Joel's hand extended out to touch you, and a sense of warmth and comfort came over him. For a little while, he felt the smoothness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed peacefully beside him.

But then reality slammed back in like a tidal wave, yanking him from his comfortable state of sleep. His hand gripped the empty air, his fingers wrapping around nothing but chilly emptiness.

Joel's eyes opened abruptly, and he found himself lying in the dimly lit space, alone in the bed that had previously accommodated both of you. The ache in his chest returned with vengeance, a searing pang of anguish piercing his heart as he realized you were no longer alongside him.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, the memories of the dream still fresh in his mind. It felt so genuine and so vivid that, for a brief minute, he believed you were still alive and with him.

You were gone, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate, and no amount of dreaming could bring you back to him.

It's been a week, and he didn't attend your funeral because he was unable to accept that you were no longer alive.

Until today, when he stepped out of the house, which was surrounded by the flowers that some members of the community had left for you, and walked to your graveyard.

As Joel approached your graveyard, he felt an enormous burden settle over him—the weight of grief and loss that had been his constant companion in the days since your death. The walk appeared longer than it had ever been, with each step weighed down by the weight of his grief.

As he reached the grave, Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of the newly turned earth and the plain headstone traced your name as if it were your face. Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of freshly churned ground, with a simple monument marking your final resting place, acted as a sharp reminder of your absence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you; I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the headstone, each bloom a silent tribute to the love and loss he felt in his heart. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the graveyard, a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the inevitability of death.

Joel's voice quivered as he spoke, every word heavy with the weight of his despair and sorrow. He kneeled near the grave, his hand resting on the cool surface of the headstone, seeking comfort in the memory of your love.

"I want you to know that it was never me who protected you, but you who protected me," Joel said quietly, his words barely audible above the delicate murmur of the wind through the trees. "You were always the one who gave me strength, who showed me what it meant to love and to be loved."

As Joel spoke, tears streamed down his cheeks, revealing his real and unadulterated grief. At that time, surrounded by the serene tranquility of the graveyard, he felt profound loss, a yawning void that could never be filled.

"But now you're gone," Joel added, his voice breaking with sadness. "And I do not know how to go on without you."

Joel rose to his feet after one final long glance at the headstone, a sensation of purpose coming over him. He may have lost you, but he promised to always carry your love with him, to respect your memory in all he did, and to find a way to move forward, even in the face of his greatest pain.

You were always in every star shining above, in the sky.

He was back in the dimly lit room, with the weight of the grief still over his shoulders, and with trembling hands, he reached for the small camera you had traded, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device.

As he turned it on, the screen flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow. And there, displayed before him, was the image he had captured of your sleeping, your peaceful expression a bittersweet reminder of how simply you could make him happy.

With a heavy heart, Joel reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns of your face on the screen. It was as if he could feel your presence beside him.

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he lingered on the image, his heart aching with longing for the touch he could no longer feel. But in that moment, surrounded by memories of you, he found a glimmer of solace, a reminder that though you were gone, your love would always remain.

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elllisaaa · 30 days ago

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DANGEROUS WOMAN - JAKE S.

KINKTOBER DAY 9 - PREMATURE EJACULATION + FEET

SUMMARY : jake is the best assistant you've ever had, and to top it all, he's really cute. you know he has a crush on you, everyone knows it, and that makes him even more adorable. so when you have to leave for an important conference with him and that the hotel room only has one bed, you take it upon yourself to give him what he wants.

-> pairing : assitant!jake x boss!reader

-> words count : 1.5k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : sub!jake x dom!reader, foot fetish (obviously, don't like, don't read), premature ejaculation (obviously too), only one bed trope, jake is a simp and very horny, mutual pining, heels, footjob, teasing, dirty talk, use of 'miss' & 'good boy', praising, begging, mention of oral (f. receiving)

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

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

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

-> masterlist | enha masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- Are you… Are you sure that you’re okay with this ?”

You chuckled at Jake's anxious tone of voice as he followed you into the hotel room, carrying yours and his suitcase behind him. He looked over at the only bed of the room, a king sized bed, and he gulped down as he looked back up at you.

“- It’s no big deal Jake, plus it’s only for two days. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can always try to find another hotel for us ?

- No ! N-No, it’s not that… I’m just… Anxious, that’s all.

- Don’t be. I know I’m your boss but I won’t eat you alive.”

Your seductive and charming smile made his insides swirl, and Jake knew that he was thoroughly fucked. Leaving one-on-one with you for this seminary was already a challenge for him, but having to share a room and moreover, a bed with you was going to be hell. Not because he hated the idea, but because it was going to be much more difficult for him to hide how much you turned him on, or how he often had wet dreams about you.

Jake didn’t know what sparked his interest in the first place - was it the way you always carried yourself with so much confidence in contrast to him, or was it the way you always looked at him in the eyes, intensely. He didn’t know but the facts were there : he had the fattest crush on you, his boss, and he was unable to control his dick in your presence most of the time.

“- Jake ? Can you come here ?”

He snapped out of his trance at the sound of your voice, quickly making his way over to the comfortable armchair in which you were sitting. You often complimented him for his reactivity, for his engagement and for how dedicated to the company - to you - he was. You really liked Jake, he was the first assistant that managed to keep up with you for more than two months and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t notice his crush on you. It was as obvious as the nose in the middle of your face, and since you had come to like the boy too, you thought that it wasn’t so bad if you had to share a room.

“- Could you help me with my heels ? I can’t unbuckle the leash.

- U-Uh… Yeah, of course…”

His voice was shaking as he answered, your smile slightly growing as Jake got down on his knees in front of you. You uncrossed your legs and pushed your right feet into his direction, looking down at him with such a deep gaze that Jake had to wipe his sweaty hands on his dress pants before reaching for your ankle. He grabbed it gently, and you tried to repress your shivers as you felt his fingers against your skin.

While Jake was focused on finding out how to help you out of your heels, your other feet got closer to his thigh. And when he felt it brush against him, Jake inhaled sharply at the sensation, looking up at you with an open mouth, and you could see how many questions were going through his head at that moment. But you said nothing as you let your feet trace a path up from his knee to his thigh. Jake’s eyes were wide open as he stared at the way you were stroking his thigh, a shaky pant falling from his lips as his hands around your other ankle tightened their grip.

“- You like that Jake ?”

He looked up at you with desire burning in his big, brown eyes, unable to hide how excited he was. But far from deterring you, the way you could already see the outline of his cock through his pants made you salivate, letting your feet go even higher, so close to his crotch but not quite touching it.

“- Answer me, or I’ll stop.”

Your tone was demanding, and even if Jake wasn’t entirely sure of where this was all going, he knew that he didn’t want you to stop.

“- I-I like it, Miss.”

The title he always gave you despite you insisting on him calling you by your name made you quite satisfied for once, asserting your dominance - something that Jake seemed to like a lot.

“- Good boy.”

The name had him whining under his breath, his eyes glued to the way your feet went up higher, and higher, until you could press it down against his very obvious hard on. This time, Jake couldn’t repress the moan that fell from his lips, he couldn’t keep his eyes open either, throwing his head back as you started to rub him over his pants. The sight before your eyes was delicious, tempting, and you licked your lips as you watched Jake whine and whimper as you pressed your feet harder against his boner.

“- Aren’t you so pretty like this ? You wanted this for so long, right ?”

Jake looked back up at you, his plump lips parted to freely let out every one of his airy moans, cheeks dusted pink and eyes blown out with lust. He had, indeed, never been as pretty as in that moment.

“- Fuck, I… Y-Yes, wanted you since I laid my eyes on you, Miss.”

You huffed as you detached your feet from his crotch, hovering over it and not giving in to his whines, nor to the way he pathetically tried to grab your ankle and rub himself against your heel again. Maybe that someone else would have thought he was disgusting, but you were only thinking about how hot he was, how much fun you were going to have playing with him.

“- Stop calling me Miss, Jake. I already told you that, didn’t I ? So if you want me to continue, you need to call me by my name.”

You had leaned over, until your face was barely inches apart from his, your breath crashing against his parted lips. You smiled as you distinctly heard his breath hitch in his throat at the sudden closeness, his grip around your ankle stronger now.

“- I… Okay, I’ll do whatever you want Y/N…

- Good fucking boy.”

Your name falling from his mouth in that deep voice but yet in a needy tone made you even wetter than you already were, and the way he reacted to your praise by moaning loudly against your lips pushed you to press your feet on his hard on again, earning another moan from him that you swallowed with your mouth as you kissed him. You had wanted to do that for a while too, often getting distracted by his soft looking lips when he was talking to you. And now that you could feel them, you realized they were even softer than you thought.

Jake didn’t refrained his sounds anymore, keeping both of his hands wrapped around your ankle to keep your feet pressed against his boner, his hips thrusting up to get even more friction. He could feel himself dripping and staining his boxer as your tongue invaded his mouth, completely dominating him even through the kiss. Some saliva was trickling down from the corner of his mouth and along his chin, but he didn’t care, letting you devour and ruin him. When you finally detached yourself from his lips after what felt like an eternity, Jake chased after them, whining when you straightened back into the armchair, licking his saliva out of your lips.

“- You’re a good kisser, Jake. Think you could use that mouth on me ?”

The simple thought of your pussy being anywhere near his mouth made Jake moan again, grinding faster against your feet that was now pressing down way harder onto his cock. But he loved it, he loved it all and he only wanted more and more.

“- Y-Yes, please… Please Y/N, I want to make you feel good too, want to taste you…

- So eager and greedy… I like it.”

Your sultry tone pushed Jake to open his eyes and lock his gaze with yours, the intensity of it and the cocky smile on your face paired with the way you rubbed your feet just right had him trembling under your touch. Jake bit down on his lips as he closed his eyes, embarrassed at the way he came so quickly, in his pants like a teenager. Though, it felt too good, the rush of pleasure coursing through his veins rendering him unable to think, and he couldn’t stop himself from whining out your name as a visible darker spot formed on his pants.

“- I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean t-

- Did it feel good ?”

Jake stayed speechless for a few seconds, his cheeks having grown hotter due to the embarrassment he was feeling, but he still looked up at you as he nodded. His fingers were subtly caressing the skin of your calf, and you tried to not show how much you loved it.

“- Y-Yeah, so good…”

You smiled at his admission, leaning down to kiss his lips one more time. He deserved it, that and so much more. Now that you had him under your control, you were not going to let him go. You were going to have so much fun.

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

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

enha taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @heevllog @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @foxinnie8 @lala-----------lala @urlocal-user

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober fic #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen kinktober #enha #enha x reader #enha smut #enha kinktober #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake smut #jake kinktober

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dimepdf · 1 year ago

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★ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. miguel o’hara and the nsfw alphabet challenge.

─── ☆ notes. anyone got a slime tutorial link to the new movie yet? . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 1.5k (11 min read).

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Miguel isn’t the type to wind down that quickly, but he is extremely considerate of your feelings and well-being, most of the time he’s making sure you're okay. Especially since the last thing he ever wants is to make you seem unwanted after having sex with him.

That being said, it did take him a while to get used to the whole cuddling and comfort thing. You swear, at the beginning of your relationship, it was like trying to hug one big bear, but as you two spent more time together, he started to crave just having you wrapped in his arms and listening to your heartbeat every now and then.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He could go on and on about how much he loves every part of you; seriously, you could tell because of how much he cannot keep his hands off of you, but realistically, his answer in the back of his mind is your mouth and thighs. He’s so down bad.

Whenever you try talking to him, you always catch him staring at your lips like he’s just starving to kiss you. It's the same situation with your thighs as well. Sometimes you would be standing around the house in the mind of a conversation and suddenly feel Miguel’s fingers groping the plush of your thighs, gawking at your legs like he has no home training.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Oh brother, this man is a mess in the head, he loves, I mean loves, to see you covered in his cum: facials, creampies, you name a place on your body for him to cum on, and he’ll do it with pleasure.

There’s just something about seeing your soft brown skin painted with traces of him all over your body, especially when he would cum inside you. His favorite thing to do is spread your legs and watch it spill out, only to push it all back in and give you another load.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory)

Miguel is a very pent-up possessive man, no matter what he does, he just can't get enough of you, which leaves him feeling extremely needy whenever you're gone or just don't feel in the mood. He would just jack off at the thought of you to relieve himself.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

You had expected him to come from around the entire block from the easy he would pick you up and fuck you, but surprisingly, Miguel only really had a handful of partners in his past—nothing too extreme.

F= Favorite position

He says he isn't really picky, yet somehow you always end up with your stomach pressed against some surface. Most of the time he sees no point in containing himself, plus weight isn't really an issue on his behalf. Whenever your legs give out from standing, he’ll just pick your ass up as if you weighed absolutely nothing and keep the same pace.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He likes to completely mirror your emotions or help you ease up more. He's very big on paying attention to the smallest detail, so if you're someone who feels a little anxious or nervous, no matter how many times you two have had sex, he needs to break that broadening act to crack a few dry jokes or shower you in compliments to make you feel more comfortable.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

This man is covered in dark hair from chest to toe. He doesn't really find the amount of body hair alarming, but he doesn't like to upkeep his pubic hair a bit, especially giving himself a trim whenever he wears his spider suit. He just doesn't really care that much to shave it all off, but if you asked him too, he wouldn't mind much.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He’s pretty reluctant to be overly smothering, with his inmate moments just coming out of the blue, especially with his cold attitude. Most of the time, when you think he’s tense, he’ll switch, turn around, and start praising you. Sometimes he doesn't realize it, but most of the time it's always after he feels like he went a bit too far with degrading you, so he switches up just to even it all out with praise and saying how good you make him feel while holding eye contact.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Miguel just has the habit of stressing himself out all the damn time, and half of the time it's always over him being too worked up. Whenever he has a moment alone and you just can't be there, he likes to turn to his memory of you to help work off some of his tension.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Marking. I’m talking biting, scratches, hickeys, and God forbid Miguel sees the fingerprint bruises forming on your hips after he lets you ride him. Just the thought of having traces of him all over you makes that possessive switch in him go haywire.

Size kink. He’s a big guy through and through, and no matter what, he makes sure to remind you of your size difference. Blessed tall and broad, standing next to you, he’s practically a brick wall with the audacity to have a big dick.

Eye contact. Dear Lord, you better hope you laid down in one of his favorite positions and he hasn't fucked the common sense out of you by the time you're about to cum because Miguel will twist you like a hot pretzel and have you begging like your life depended just to hear you say his name and while you look into his eyes.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Anywhere with privacy and on every surface he could reach—floor, wall, upside—doing the splits, Miguel damn near used webs to find a way to have you against him.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Miguel will get turned on by the smallest of things: you stretching near him, you wearing his clothes, you looking at him, you saying his name in a certain way, you, you, you. It's like he has brain rot, and you're all he can think about.

But he also likes it when you get angry or annoyed with him; there's just something about you snapping at him and trying to put him in his place that gets him going.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

Pegging, piss and poop.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He loves giving more than receiving, mostly because he prefers it. There’s just something about teasing and edging you until you can't handle it anymore that leaves him wanting to lay you back and spread you open for hours on end.

But if you're offering, it's completely your loss. Miguel loves sitting back and watching you struggle trying not to gag or fit him entirely down your throat; either way, it's a free show for him.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Whenever he’s feeling less merciful and wants to spice things up from the usual fucking you until your lace sweats off type sex, he loves to just see how long he can push you to the edge (which is a lot more days than you’d like to think), and he will be petty and take it super slow just to see your body twitch and squirm for more of his attention.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Even if you're the one offering quickies, it always ends up with you having to reschedule your plans.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He’s open to new ideas but never really offers any himself. Miguel completely trusts you and is willing to do whatever you want for your pleasure, but just know that nothing at the end of the day will get him off but you.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

You have to remind him most times that you don't have the same enhanced superhuman abilities as he does. No matter how many times he tries to make you cum in just one night. You swear sometimes it's like you're fighting for your fucking life just to catch one five-minute break.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Is the type to feel a bit insulted if you ever mentioned having one or using one until you would regret offering him to use a vibrater on you. Like you handed a murder a knife the moment he found your rose toy and figured out how to use it.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

There is no sex without a bit of teasing with Miguel; he definitely pushes you a lot just to get a reaction out of you normally, so doing it in bed only comes naturally to him, and if you're not begging, he ain't giving.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He does not shut the fuck up! You will hear him, whether it's grunting on top of you, raspy whimpering in your ear, or talking you through it. Miguel is very vocal, just not as loud with his moans since he prefers to hear yours instead.

W= Wild card (random sin cannon of any sort)

Has absolutely no issues with letting you ride him with the suit on.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Slightly less tanned than his skin tone, with a slight curve to the left, and too girthy for his own good.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Surprisingly, not that high, especially since he isn't a really big PDA person and the only time he ever gets worked up is in the comfort of privacy.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sometimes you have to trick him into falling asleep with you. Dude has really bad insomnia, but having you all cuddled up next to him really helps with his shit sleeping schedule.

🔖 ...

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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astrophileous · 1 year ago

Text

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

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