#ive never even been in love but i know i would not settle for that

[b4ll4d33r-06]

rough around the edges, feeling the stony rough exterior you know has been smoothed down. you feel like thats how it used to be. soft, and smooth to the touch. but now its been smoothed over. as if abrasions happened to the rock. enoughto make it sharp around the edges, where one hurts others if they are pricked by the roughness. thats why in some places its smoothed over a bit more.

yes im talling ab diluc plwase leave me alone.

[andragoras-in-vanity]

i literally have anxiety about being single for fall again, i cant do this again and im still not living in nova scotia like im supposed to be and no one cares. my stomach literally is ripping itself apart because this fucking sucks and im touchstarved but im so sick of spineless little boys i cant even risk a hookup, which always make me feel like shit anyone like im cheating on someone ive never even met, and i dont know what to do about it, someone help please. in any way, just please help me.

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. plot plot plot what is a plot when you can just have vibes and a vague narrative direction... if you MUST know you go to your brother's hockey team back-to-uni party accidentally matching one of the members with your cowgirl barbie costume. hopelessly romantic sunghoon sees this as a sign that the two of you are meant to be together, but you're impossible to read and soon the two of you settle on an ambiguous secret friends with benefits relationship. unfortunately, conflict ensues.

genre. strangers to friends to fwb to lovers..?? its not an asahicore fic if it doesnt have fluff angst AND smut, brothers best friend, jock x nerd type vibe, slight miscommunication put your pitchforks away and hear me out pls it works out i promise, reader has ISSUES 💜 loser loverboy sunghoon, its mostly in his pov, i know nothing about ice hockey

word count. 39.5k 😂

a/n. inspired by @moonlighthoon's request for the 1k trope event! sorry it took ages to write but i hope you like it and that i met ur expectations!!!! hope everyone else enjoys it too, this is the longest fic ive ever written and im quite proud of it, pls pls pls let me know what u thought <333 shoutout to @zreamy .. good luck with your studies, thank u for beta reading and making this fic exponentially better as u always do ⭐️ credit to @/plutism for the dividers :)

Some men never think of it. You did. You’d come along And say you’d nearly brought me flowers But something had gone wrong.

The shop was closed. Or you had doubts - The sort that minds like ours Dream up incessantly. You thought I might not want your flowers.

It made me smile and hug you then. Now I can only smile. But, look, the flowers you nearly brought Have lasted all this while. - Wendy Cope, Flowers

When Sunghoon falls in love, it usually goes as quickly as it came.

Just to name a few:

There had been Ahn Yujin, whose family had moved next to his when he was twelve, and whose dog got on perfectly with his. His crush on the cute girl next door grew with every walk the four of them took but disappeared the second she ditched him to walk home from school with Na Jaemin. 

A few years later, there had been Bae Sumin, who sat in front of him and always had her hair up in a ponytail he found exceedingly pretty. An appointment at the hairdresser was enough for him to stop liking her, as if his interest in her had been laying in the ten centimeters of hair she had cut off. 

In his junior year of high school, there had been Kim Yerim, a college student that tutored him in Math and English. She was three years older, but that didn’t deter him—what did was the fact that she was dating a college graduate. She showed him a picture once, and the guy had biceps probably twice the size of Sunghoon’s. He thought it was safer to give up on her than to fight such a bulky guy five years his senior. 

The first time it stuck was during his first year of college. She was his coach’s daughter and he liked the way she would smile at him when she came to watch their practice. Sunghoon didn’t like to think about her, mainly because even after she broke his heart, for a while there, he continued to love her. 

So, when he first spots you from across the room at the Welcome Back costume party thrown by his hockey team, unintentionally the Cowboy Barbie to his Cowboy Ken, he tries not to read too much into it. Barbie was a hit this summer, it’s an easy and topical costume, of course there’s a pretty girl wearing the same bright pink cowboy hat he is. It doesn’t mean she’s the love of his life.

Right?

He knows you from the pictures that littered the walls of Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon’s apartment last year, from Instagram posts, both yours and your friends’, from your video calls with Jake, who dragged him into the camera’s view. Say hi to my sister, he’d insist, like Sunghoon was a child who didn’t want to greet his great-great-aunt. He’d dip in to say hi as requested, ask how you were, and mumble me too like a fool when you said you heard so much about him and were excited to meet him in real life. 

These are the things Sunghoon knows about you: Jake’s older sister by a year, currently on a year abroad in Rome, studies something fancy like Classics, which he hadn’t known people still did in the twenty-first century, deep attachment to Stardew Valley in first year, rarely seen with the same man twice, very pretty. Absurdly so. He’s also weirdly obsessed over the texts you’ve sent to the group chat he was added to at the beginning of last year—scarce, short, elusive. Never more than two sentences, and always long after the conversation was over. But sometimes you’d send photos and videos out of nowhere, of your adventures or of funny things you saw online, and he always hearted them. He even replied to it sometimes (brave hahas or that’s so cool!s), in hopes that it would make you like him, would make you think, he gets me. 

The two of you have never formally yet because you left for Italy the year he started university. He’s been nervous about meeting you since the first time the group told him about you. 

Now that he is about to, he can hear his heart thumping so loudly in his ears, it drowns out the bass of the music. He’s glad he gets to see you before having to talk to you—he’s not sure he could take in your presence and form coherent words at the same time. He watches you laugh with your friends, the smile lines that form like dimples around your mouth, the strands of hair you keep tucking behind your ear. Then someone joins your group—except it’s not just someone, it’s Minjeong, her denim jacket so often worn he recognises her from the back, and he realizes the people you’re with have been Chaewon and Yunjin this whole time. The three of them have been banging on about you all year, even more so due to the fact that their replacement flatmate was dreadful, a Spanish girl who only hung out with other Spanish exchange students and looked the girls up and down when they tried to invite her out somewhere.

You turn towards Minjeong, and before he knows it, he’s in your line of sight, and your eyes meet. Confusion, then a flash of recognition goes through your eyes. He had been resting his elbow on a countertop, cider bottle in hand and watching you, he realizes, not unlike a creep, but now he stands up straight and looks around him as if you hadn’t just caught him staring. Before he can find a way out, Jake appears by his side and throws an arm around his shoulders, guiding him into the throng of party-goers and, coincidentally, closer to you.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

“What?” Sunghoon says, tone coming out more irritated than he means it to. He’s just had to give up on making a good first impression on you, and he doesn’t even have the time to think of a way to redeem himself. When he dares to look back at you, your eyes are already on him, a small smile on your lips. You probably hate him already.

“My sister is dressed just like you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys came together or something. Hey, guys!” Jake calls out, and all of a sudden, it’s not just your eyes on him, it’s everyone’s. Well, to be fair, they’re also looking at Jake. But you’re only looking at Sunghoon, and he can’t look away from you either, can’t even manage the politeness to hug everyone in greeting like Jake is doing now. He watches as your eyes rake over his figure, taking him in, assessing him, and he suddenly feels awkward in his costume that matches yours, like he’s somehow overstepped a boundary, like you might think he’s asked around about your costume, found out you were going as Barbie and decided to match you so you’d think the two of you were meant together, like he had two minutes ago, and come to the fairly reasonable decision that he was the weirdest man on Earth. But then you meet his eyes, smile a kind, genuine smile, and his whole body relaxes. 

“Hey, Hoon!” Chaewon calls, arms open wide. He remembers himself and hugs everyone, even you, and he has to pretend like this is completely fine and normal, like his hands aren’t practically shaking as his arms circle your shoulders in a two-second embrace. 

You squeeze one of his shoulders, and keeping his countenance is a Herculean task. He feels like those people centuries ago who passed out at the sight of a lady’s ankle. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, peering at him over the rim of your red cup. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon feels the blush growing on his face; he wasn’t expecting so much of your attention so quickly. He takes a swig of his lukewarm cider, hoping if he seems drunk, it might explain his redness. “Good things, I hope,” he says, aware of the unoriginality but unable to come up with anything better.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ve made you out to be a saint.” You’ve not once broken eye contact or stopped smiling—it should intimidate him, but instead, it makes Sunghoon feel like you’ve known each other for ages and that this isn’t your first conversation at all. He finds himself able to relax into a smile, and manages to meet your eyes for more than three seconds at a time.

“You don’t believe them?”

You pause, gaze zeroing in on him even more intensely than previously, smile turning smirk-like. Sunghoon’s heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe he’s not that relaxed. “I don’t know you well enough to make up my mind yet. But we’ll be seeing plenty of each other from now on, won’t we?”

This is exactly what Sunghoon has been warned about. You at parties, the way you look at guys, the way you talk to them. Sunghoon has been the audience of more than one recreation of such a scene, Yunjin pretending to be you, Chaewon pretending to be your “victim,” as the others liked to call them. Because once you had set your eyes on a man, he had little chance of making it out. Jay prides himself as being the only survivor, although he has to admit it’s only because Jake interrupted your conversation, telling him, “I see you’ve met my sister.” And Jay was not the kind of person that got off with their friends’ siblings, especially since his and Jake’s friendship was only a week long at that point, and he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere in their dorm for the rest of the year just because his dick had gotten the best of him. His words. Whenever they were all hanging out together and they called you, one of the girls would inevitably ask if you had “turned any Italian boys into men” or if you had been “terrorizing the good men of Rome recently.” You would either roll your eyes or say this was not a conversation to be had in front of your brother.

Sunghoon had been sure they were exaggerating—it takes two to tango, as they say, and it wasn’t like you ensnared innocent men into your trap. They had to be willing, to want something from you just as much as you wanted something from them. He’d also gotten them to admit it wasn’t that frequent, that you weren’t looking for a new prey every party, just once in a while when you found someone you liked. (He’d been very quiet when Jay asked why he was trying so hard to defend you.)

But now that he is on the receiving end of your alluring smiles, he starts to understand how one could fall for you without meaning to. He knows he can’t — Jake probably wouldn’t take to it kindly, and he didn’t want to spoil the dynamic of his best group of friends at uni — but he has a feeling that ten minutes of talking to you would be enough to shake his resolve.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure we will. Jake said you studied a lot, but I’m sure we’ll get to hang out. All of us, I mean,” he quickly adds, lest you think he’s already asking you to hang out one-on-one. Sunghoon would not be that forward.

“Of course. I have to see if you did a good enough job replacing me for a year.” Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and before he can blurt out something weirdly laudatory like “I could never replace you, I would never even try, I don’t know you but you’re clearly far superior to me in every aspect and I could never even claim to fill your spot,” you giggle and tell him it’s just a joke. “If anything, I’m happy Jake has managed to make a new friend that he didn’t meet through me, that loser,” you say, and together, you laugh at Jake’s loserness, a topic that will never fail to amuse Sunghoon, although he’s not faring much better in that department. 

“Like, look at him right now,” you say, jerking your head in Jake’s general direction, somewhere behind Sunghoon’s shoulder—and that’s when he realizes that it’s just the two of you standing there, the others gone without him even noticing. Sunghoon turns around, finding the girls, Jay, and a bunch of other people he vaguely recognizes huddled around Jake. They all start chanting his name as he gulps down a giant red cup of beer, then raises the empty cup over his head in victory and crumples it, beaming at the people around him. 

“What is he doing?” Sunghoon asks, laughing at his friend.

“Jay called him over for a beer-off,” you explain. After a beat, you ask, “You didn’t notice?”

The implications are clear in your tone and in your eyes. In the smile playing on your lips, just shy of being a smirk. You didn’t notice because of me, is what you’re really telling Sunghoon—at least, that’s the impression he’s getting. And you’d be right. He was too busy talking to you and trying his best not to make a fool of himself to notice his friends leaving, too engrossed with you to register the sudden disappearance of four people. Across the room, where people have shifted their attention to yet another hockey player downing a sizable amount of beer, he catches Chaewon’s eyes, and she winks at him. Of course—leave it to Chaewon, to whom Sunghoon once made the mistake of drunkenly rambling about how pretty you looked in your Instagram posts last year, to give you and Sunghoon some time alone, “to get to know each other properly,” she would probably say. Although he isn’t sure that small talk over 2000s music counts as getting to know someone. According to the others, she and Yunjin started dating a month into their second year, so Chaewon has proclaimed herself as the goddess of dating and is now always trying to set people up. Sunghoon thinks she’s just living vicariously through her friends now that she has a Mrs. at home.

Because the filter usually at work between the part of Sunghoon’s brain where sentences are formed and his mouth is apparently on leave today, he says, “I do have a pretty distracting sight in front of me.” He’s immediately both mortified and impressed by this sudden bout of confidence, but then you look down and giggle, actually giggle, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and only pride remains. 

“So, Ken?” you ask, a cute attempt to change the subject, taking the fabric of the pink bandana around his neck between your fingers. Sunghoon wonders if you’re going to yank him down to your level, and he thinks he wouldn’t have much of a problem with that. 

He realizes that even though you should technically know each other’s names, you haven’t actually exchanged them, so in a confused but correcting tone, he says, “Um, Sunghoon.” He only belatedly realizes that you hadn’t gotten his name wrong, you were just making a comment on his costume, which he had completely forgotten he was wearing in the first place. Just as he’s about to backtrack and salvage what he can of the situation, you burst into laughter, hand leaving his bandana to cover your mouth as he hides his face behind his own hands, laughing along with you despite himself. 

“I know your name is Sunghoon!” you exclaim. The gratification of hearing you say his name takes away some of his embarrassment. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not Barbie.”

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

The laughter gradually dies down, but your smile stays the same; wide, bright, a smile that exposes your teeth and turns your eyes into crescents. Sunghoon can’t look away. He’s awash with nerves, your gaze simultaneously planting his feet to the ground like they’re full of lead and making him light-headed. His heart is beating so fast, he can barely feel it anymore. 

The two of you stand there, looking and smiling at each other, like in a cliché movie scene where everyone else at the party seems to fade into the background. He has no idea how much time has passed when you break the silence. “It really is nice to finally meet you,” you say, repeating your statement from earlier, as though you mean it more now. 

“It is,” Sunghoon simply replies, because he doesn’t know how else to express the relief of seeing you in the flesh after hearing about you and looking at a digital version of you for a year. The relief, but also the anticipation of what is to come now that he knows he likes you even more now that he’s actually seen you. And improbable as it sounds, you might even feel the same.

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

You nod towards his now empty cup. “Want a refill?”

Together, you make your way through the crowd of increasingly drunk students until you reach the kitchen, where the countertops overflow with open bottles of liquor of all sorts and paper plates with half-eaten pizza slices on them. He watches your every move as you find a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, a bottle of strawberry syrup in a random cupboard that you had to know was there, and a half-empty discarded bottle of lemonade on the counter. You ask him to tell you about last year, everything you missed out on, and so he does. He knows you’ve probably heard it all from the others before, but you still laugh and gasp like it’s the first time you’re hearing about any of it, all the hockey games they won, Jay getting food poisoning from the sketchy pizzeria he kept eating at, Yunjin almost getting into a fistfight with a man twice her size who was flirting with Chaewon. 

You assemble two drinks and hand him one of them. When he takes a sip, his eyes widen at the refreshing and sweet taste. “Good, right?” you say. “I discovered it on a trip to France last summer.”

“Thank God for France. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed drinking beer,” he says.

“That’s probably because you can’t taste the beer at all.”

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

You turn around, lower back against the counter, and take in the current kitchen population. “We really weren’t very original with our costumes tonight.” Sunghoon, who had not taken his eyes off of you this entire time, follows your gaze. He counts five partygoers dressed in some version of Barbie or Ken, and that’s just the kitchen. He doesn’t blame them—the fact that so many people came dressed in costumes at all impresses him, especially for a party on the 10th of September and not the 31st of October. The social committee of the hockey team just seems to really love themed and dress-up parties.

He chuckles, then takes a sip of his drink. It’s really nice. “Yeah, but we look the best.”

Your head whips towards him, eyes glinting with something that makes Sunghoon smile, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. “Should we enter the couple’s costume contest?” you ask.

At the mention of couple, his eyes widen, his brain tricking him into thinking you’ve asked him out for a second. But when what you actually meant dawns on him, the first thing to come out of his mouth is, “There’s a couple’s costume contest?!”

“Mh-hm. The sign-up sheet should be around here.” 

For what feels like the millionth time since he’s started talking to you, his face heats up. “Are non-couples allowed to enter?”

“We’re Barbie and Ken. I’d say that’s enough of a couple, don’t you think?” 

Right. Because he had been thinking of Sunghoon and Y/N, while you obviously meant Barbie and Ken. In the contest, it doesn’t actually matter whether the contestants are dating in real life—it matters that their costumes match. Sunghoon knows that. He just needed a second.

He grins, deep dimples punctuating his cheeks. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Armed with your drinks, you walk around the kitchen in search of the sign-up sheet. You find it on a wall next to the dining table, which has been turned into a beer pong table for tonight’s festivities, and the sheet is almost filled with names already. Sunghoon can only hope that by midnight, when the contest is set to take place, most participants will have had too much to drink to remember it. You write your names on the list, and Sunghoon likes seeing his name in your handwriting so much he almost wants to take a picture.

“There you guys are!”

You both turn around to find Jake stumbling towards you, clearly more intoxicated than when he had left you half-an-hour ago. He rests his arms on your shoulders, forcing Sunghoon down to his height and making you stumble forwards from the sudden added weight. “I’ve been looking all over for you- You’re entering the contest?!”

For a split second, Sunghoon is scared he’s going to get scolded by Jake for trying to hit on his sister, but surprisingly, it’s you he narrows his eyes at. “Y/N, what are you roping my little Hoonie into?”

Sunghoon groans, face perpetually red at this point. Leave it to Jake to make him seem like a total loser. 

You frown at your brother. “I’m not roping your little Hoonie into anything.” Sunghoon wants to bury himself alive. “We agreed on doing it together. Right?” you ask, turning towards Sunghoon and batting your eyelashes at him. It makes him feel a bit better.

He turns back to Jake. “Right. We’re just joining forces to crush the competition.”

Jake scoffs. “As if.” He snatches the pen from your hands and underlines his name as well as Kazuha’s, the girl he came with tonight, three thick black lines that almost erases the names underneath them. “You can’t beat the hockey player and cheerleader combo.”

“Those aren’t even costumes, you guys are a hockey player and a cheerleader,” you protest.

“So?” Jake simply retorts, more attitude in his tone than he would have were he sober.

“So, that defeats the whole purpose of a costume contest.”

Jake knocks on your cowboy hat, and you immediately put it back in place, glaring at him. “As if Barbie was the greatest costume ever. Whatever, let’s just play beer pong so I can defeat you guys twice in one night.”

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

Sunghoon had just been watching your back-and-forth amusedly when you grab his hand, leading him to the side of the table opposite Jake. His fingers tingle under your touch, but just like that, it’s gone. He’d rather keep on holding your hand than play this stupid game, but he isn’t opposed to taking Jake’s ego down a notch, either. The boy can barely stand straight, anyway, so it probably won’t be a very tough match.

Some guy he doesn’t recognize in a striped black-and-white referee t-shirt fills most cups with beer and a couple on each side with shots of vodka—he’s so earnest, Sunghoon isn’t sure whether he’s just taking his costume-slash-role very seriously or if he has genuinely been hired to look over the beer pong matches of the night. Some order in the brutish world of college parties, Sunghoon guesses.

Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jay appear then, exchanging a quick look at the sight of you and Sunghoon together. The two former join your team, while the two latter join Jake’s, as well as other people that Sunghoon vaguely recognizes from other parties. But by the simple action of getting behind him, they become his most trusted allies for at least this part of the night.

You’re a terrible shot, but Sunghoon makes up for it by scoring almost every round. In his defense, he only misses when you come up close to him and whisper in his ear which cup he should go for. Your breath tickles his (oddly sensitive) ears and the combined scents of the strawberry and lemonade on your tongue and your delicate perfume make his head spin. He can barely think straight, so his aim is naturally thrown off—other than that, he makes Jay drink a healthy amount of beer. He almost feels bad for his friend, but he’d arrived late at the party and needed to quickly catch up with everyone’s level of ebriety anyway.

When the opposite team is down to their last cup, a lightning bolt of luck strikes you, and your ball disappears straight into the vodka-filled cup that Jake now has the honor of downing. 

Sunghoon gives you no time to celebrate, to gloatingly pump your fists in the air and point a mocking finger at your brother, because as soon as you make the shot, he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground. When you’re on your feet again, you spin around to find a proud-looking Sunghoon beaming down at you. You burst into giggles and high-five him, your palms perfectly clapping against each other, and he threads your fingers together. A current of electricity rushes through him, and for a second, he swears it’s just the two of you in this packed room.

The moment is cut short by the loud cheers of the others on your team as they shake your shoulders and raise their hands for you to high-five them too. Minjeong flips the other team off and Yunjin has to go hug Chaewon and reassure her it’s nothing personal. It’s really quite easy to make college students happy—or devastated. 

You raise your eyebrows at Jake, who’s busy glaring at you instead of accepting his defeat and taking his shot. With a begrudging sigh, he tips his head back and drinks the vodka in one gulp, the cheers doubling in volume when his face scrunches at the bitter taste of the liquor.

“Don’t act so proud,” he scolds you. “Sunghoon carried your team.”

“Maybe, but she made us win in the end,” Sunghoon retorts, putting an arm around your shoulder. 

Jake scoffs, frowning at Sunghoon’s hand placement before eye-rolling his gaze away. “Whatever.” He slides his phone out of his back pocket and smiles as he shows the two of you his screen. “Would you look at the time? The contest is starting soon.” Then, with an accusatory finger pointed at you, adds, “You may have won this battle, but I’m winning the war.”

He stomps away, presumably to find Kazuha before the contest starts, and it’s your turn to eye-roll at his dramatics. You grab Sunghoon’s hand that hangs off of your shoulders, and together, make your way through the crowd again to the garage, where the contest is taking place. All the alcohol he’s been drinking has definitely started kicking in by now, and he finds himself giggling at nothing with you.

When you reach the threshold, still hand in hand, Sunghoon stops so abruptly behind you that you almost stumble. You look back at him, then follow his gaze towards the garage and the sheer amount of people in there. Worriedly, his eyes take in every single one of the contenders. You let go of his hand and stand in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and putting on a determined expression. You’d almost look like a parent reassuring their kid before their first day of kindergarten if you weren’t so much shorter than him. “Don’t even worry about them, Sunghoon. We look better than anyone here.”

His eyebrows crease. “There’s like, three other Barbie-Ken couples here. Some of these costumes are so original. And do you see their makeup? Is that even possible?” he asks, staring at a couple in scarily realistic cosplay of Simon and Jeanette from Alvin and the Chipmunks, fur and all. He can’t look at them for too long without getting chills.

You shake your head. “Almost everyone here is either a hockey player or a… hockey-affiliated person. You’re the beloved and talented defenseman of the team and I’m the star player’s sister. They’ll love us,” you say with a smile, watching the worry dissipate from his features.

“We’re like nepo babies,” he whispers. His lips break into a grin when your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t know how nepotism works,” he admits, smiling wider when you burst into laughter. “How do you know if I’m talented, anyway? You haven’t seen me play yet.”

Your eyes rake him up and down appreciatively. “I took a wild guess.”

Not unlike a cartoon character, Sunghoon audibly gulps. As a hockey player since his most tender age, and dare he say, a pretty good-looking guy, he is used to girls flirting with him, and he is even hit sometimes by the occasional lightning strike of confidence that allows him to flirt back (he still can’t believe he managed to call you “a distracting sight” without spontaneously combusting). But there’s something in your eyes, in your smile, in the way you talk—something about you that has his breath hitching and his heart racing. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away and hide in a corner or kiss you right then and there.

Heeseung, the captain of the hockey team, announces into a microphone (which Sunghoon wonders where they got the money for) that the contest will start now, so he can neither kiss you nor run away. Instead, he follows you to the side of the room where all the contestants, including Jake and Kazuha, wait for their names to be called out. There are so many participants, it takes way longer than Sunghoon would like for the two of you to step onto the makeshift stage. Judging by the looks on the audience’s faces, everyone is surprised to see you and Sunghoon together—the hockey community at your university may be big, but everyone knows everyone, and gossip travels fast. No one had seen you and Sunghoon together before, for the obvious reason that you hadn’t even met before tonight. But you could be sure that by tomorrow, as silly as it sounds, word will have gone around that you and Sunghoon had participated in a couple costume contest together. 

At least, you give them something of substance to talk about—as you and Sunghoon pose on stage, wearing your brightest smiles to please the crowd, you stand on your toes and press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek. Sunghoon’s eyes burn a hole in the side of your face but you just watch as the audience of drunken 20-somethings goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. Jake is the only one booing. 

Sunghoon is still in shock when the next couple is called forward and you have to step off. His cheeks are redder than before and he can’t quite meet your eyes. Apparently, he also goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. You nudge his shoulder. “See, I told you they’d like us.” 

He feels like a fourteen-year-old for it, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about your soft lips against his cheek, so much so that he barely says a word as the three judges deliberate. If you notice the sudden change in his behavior, you don’t comment on it, perhaps chalking it up to nerves. He’s glad for it—he doesn’t know if he could handle being teased about it, especially from you. Although he’s not sure he wants you to think he’s the kind to stress over a last-minute Halloween costume contest. 

In the end, you don’t win. He suspects it was a rigged contest all along: the couple in the unimpressive Edward and Bella costume are friends with one of the judges, probably leading to their anticlimactic victory. At least it isn’t Simon and Jeannette who win, or Kazuha and Jake, even less original than the winners. Anyway, Sunghoon couldn’t care any less. With your hand in his as you walk back to the main room in search of your other friends, he feels like the biggest victor of the night. He doesn’t even mind it when his teammates tease him about his costume and how good the two of you look together—the smile you shoot him makes putting up with it worth it. He tries to think straight, but between the alcohol and your proximity, he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him.

Jake stumbles into your group, three drinks drunker than when Sunghoon last saw him, enthusiastically reporting that a game of spin the bottle is about to start in one of the rooms upstairs, because what every college party needs is a middle-school game to shake things up. None of the guys seem particularly interested until Jake reveals that the cheerleaders are playing. 

Sunghoon looks down at you, laughing when he sees your mildly disgusted moue. “Don’t feel like playing?”

“Not really, no.” Your eyes linger on his face. “There’s only one person here I want to kiss, anyway.”

All capacity for thought leaves Sunghoon’s brain. He just stares back at you blankly, lips slightly agape, willing himself to say something but also terrified that whatever leaves his mouth might make him seem like the biggest loser ever. 

You couldn’t possibly mean him—but did you? Was he the person you wanted to kiss?

As these questions resound through his head, your gaze drops to his lips. There’s his answer. 

His heart beating wildly in its cage, Sunghoon decides to do one smart thing tonight and leans in, slowly but surely closing the gap between the two of you. Then a sudden vibration in the back pocket of his jeans zaps through him like lightning and he jumps back, as if startled out of the trance you had put him in. Shame flooding his cheeks, he checks his phone; it’s the stupid alarm he set himself earlier to make sure he doesn’t get home too late. Midnight, Cinderella-style. 

You scratch the back of your neck as your eyes dart around the room. For the first time tonight, you look embarrassed—Sunghoon is in disbelief at how pretty you look even then. “I, um,” he starts, clears his throat. “I have this thing tomorrow morning, so I can’t stay too long…” he says guiltily.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he swears that what he sees on your face is disappointment. It makes him want to take it all back, to stay here with you for as long as you want and forget about tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding. “That’s fine. What thing?”

“Oh.” Sunghoon turns an impossibly deeper shade of red, further resembling the strawberry syrup the more he gets himself in these embarrassing situations with you. “Just… choir. I go to choir on Saturday mornings.” He looks down at his feet like he’s just revealed a secret, shameful part of himself.

You burst into laughter, and Sunghoon is scared for a second that you’re making fun of him, and his feelings are a lot more hurt than they should be by someone he just met. Although, to be fair, you don’t feel like someone he just met.

“That’s so cool! It must be such a nice change from all the dudes on the hockey team,” you say, a sweet, curious smile on your lips. Like you mean what you say. Like you might want to know more.

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Definitely a nice change. As much as I love hockey, it’s nice to do something calmer, you know. And I like singing. And the cakes the local grandmas bring.”

“So that’s what it’s all about, really.”

“Yep, you caught me.” Sunghoon still feels the almost-kiss lingering, a tension between the two of you that has him on edge. He feels like he’s just missed his bus because it left a minute earlier than planned. The opportunity is gone, and he would definitely mess everything up, trying to kiss you now. So instead, he decides to leave. Whatever must happen, will happen, even if it’s not tonight. You have the same friends—this is definitely not the last time you will see each other. “Well, I should probably head. I have to be up at eight tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow. The choir grandmas don’t play around.”

“They really don’t.”

“Well, see you around then,” you say, a clumsy laugh falling from your lips as you wrap your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, bringing him into a tight but short hug. You also smell good, he notes to himself. Of course you do.

“See you, Y/N.” Just as he’s about to turn away, you wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Wait. Sunghoon?” He’s only half-surprised at the immense relief he feels to hear his name on your lips. Like you, too, didn’t want to part with him just yet.

“Yeah?” he says, wishing the hope and anticipation aren’t too obvious on his face.

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

When Sunghoon arrives at his neighborhood’s community center, ten minutes before nine a.m., you’re already there. Despite the seven hours of sleep under his belt, he feels like he could’ve done with three more, and the singular cup of instant black coffee he had for breakfast was both atrocious and useless. But your smile has the restorative effect of two Red Bulls and a power nap. You look surprisingly bright, like you either managed to get a very good night’s sleep or are just the biggest morning person to ever exist.

He hugs you when he reaches you on the sidewalk, tighter than he probably should, but you return it. You smell like fresh soap and sugar. The two of you exchange quick greetings before he leads you inside the center. 

“I made some cookies as well.” You point to your tote bag and Sunghoon’s jaw slackens.

“You had time to bake?” 

“Kazuha made me take Jägerbombs, so I felt crazy when I got home. I thought it wouldn’t be fair on the old ladies if they did all the work.”

Sunghoon laughs. “They’re going to love you.”

You follow Sunghoon up two flights of stairs and into a spacious room with a wooden stage. There’s a snacks table on one side of the room that is almost fully decked with plates and tupperwares of all sorts, and although their contents remain covered by tin foil or lids, the coffee and hot water pots are free to use. Most of the chairs are stacked on each side of the room but a few have been put in the middle, the grandmas sitting and chatting there waving at Sunghoon as the two of you walk in. There are about fifteen people in the room so far, most of them older ladies, but not only. There’s a dad that came with his daughter, a couple of teenagers, and a few other adults. It’s quite an eclectic mix, and Sunghoon loves it.

Minjeong is here, too, which Sunghoon realizes he forgot to say until he sees the sheer confusion of finding someone you know in an unexpected place on both of your faces. She walks towards you, suspicious eyes darting between you two.

“Hey,” she says only to Sunghoon before turning to you, arms crossed over her chest. “And what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Minjeong, so nice to see you too!”

“I invited Y/N,” Sunghoon says quickly, although you did technically invite yourself. For some reason, he feels the need to defend you, even though he knows you and Minjeong have been friends for years now, and Minjeong is just always this blunt.

“I didn’t know this was the choir you went to,” you say to Minjeong.

“Oh, this?” She looks around the room. “It’s only the choir I’ve been going to since I was a kid. You’d know that if today wasn’t the first day you showed interest in it, ever.”

“I came to your concerts!”

One of the old ladies calls Sunghoon’s name from the snack table, and he is glad for the diversion. “Right. I’ll let you guys talk this out.” A hand on your shoulder, he smiles down at you. “I’m gonna say hi to the ladies over there. Be back in a minute.” He shoots Minjeong a look as if to say, Be normal. 

As he approaches the small group, one of them asks very loudly if you’re his girlfriend. They all burst into giggles, blushing and eager-eyed like they’re sixteen rather than sixty. Sunghoon would be endeared if you didn’t look so alarmed and Minjeong so horrified, both of you looking at him before turning back to each other and getting into a very heated and secretive discussion. He is bombarded with a hundred questions: what your name is, where you’re from, how did the two of you meet, are you together? No? But you’re so pretty! And he’s such a nice boy! He answers all of their queries to the best of his ability while checking that your conversation with Minjeong hasn’t turned physical—your arms are now also crossed over your chest, and you look annoyed while she looks like she’s accusing you of something, but at least, punches aren’t being thrown. 

Thankfully, it’s only a couple more minutes until the conductor calls for everyone to gather on stage, and a weight is lifted off of Sunghoon’s shoulders once the ladies’ collective attention is no longer on him. He isn’t sure where they came from, or why they’ve decided to make the choir rehearsal their hang-out spot, but there is always a group of women who sit there and knit while chatting quietly or listening to the songs, and they are sometimes joined by children whose parents are part of the choir but don’t want to sing themselves and apparently have nowhere else to go. Sunghoon had been so excited at the prospect of having you come see him that he hadn’t thought of how boring this might be for you, sitting with sixty-year-olds for two hours, listening to an amateur choir go through scales and sing corny romance ballads—they’re rehearsing for a wedding they’ve been hired to sing at. But as the minutes go by, his worry dissipates when the delighted smile on your face hardly falters. He can’t imagine that his choir is that good, but you genuinely look like you’re having a nice time, and it makes Sunghoon stand a little taller, sing a little louder. Your eyes are on him for most of the time, and he blushes every time your gazes meet, but he still can’t keep himself from looking away from the conductor to check on you every few seconds.   

Once rehearsal is over, everyone gathers around the refreshments table. When you tell Sunghoon that he looked good out there, he stuffs his mouth with banana bread to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. Your cookies are a hit, and so is everything else—Sunghoon would be more than happy to watch you eat as many baked goods as you possibly can and chat with the grandmas, but he has something to ask you. Without thinking much, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling you away from the table and towards him. The question that was at the tip of his tongue fades as soon as you meet his eyes, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights, cheeks stuffed with brownie. You’re so cute that words fail him for a second, and when he notices the proximity between the two of you, takes a small, bashful step backwards. You glance at his hand still around your wrist, and he withdraws it like he’s suddenly been burned. 

A playful smile grows on your lips. “Everything alright?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um, well. There’s a bus that takes us from right across the street directly to the beach, if you’re, um, if you’re interested. In going. With me. If you want.”

Your eyebrows cock in surprise, and Sunghoon thinks he’s messed it all up. You shoot Minjeong a quick, worried glance, then seem to think for a second. But when you look back to him, your smile is soft. “That sounds nice.”

An hour later, you’re running around together on the beach—or rather, Sunghoon is running around, and after five minutes of watching him with a smile on your face, he’s convinced you to run around with him. You’ve both long discarded your shoes and socks, jeans scrunched up to your mid-calves, grins so wide, your cheeks start to hurt. The wet sand is hard under your feet and the water cold against your skin. Sunghoon’s t-shirt sticks everywhere you sprayed water on him, and he knows putting his shoes on later will be a whole ordeal, but it doesn’t bother him. Even the gray September sky feels brighter because you’re standing with him underneath it. 

The water-splashing battle quickly has you both out of breath, and Sunghoon is ready to call a truce when you spot something behind him, gasping and running towards it. He turns around to find you picking up a bunch of sandcastle-building toys that must’ve been left behind by some kids. “I haven’t built a sandcastle in such a long time, this is so exciting,” you say, excitement written all over your face. 

As much as he loves seeing the glint of childish amusement in your eyes, Sunghoon keeps looking around in case the owners of these toys might appear out of thin air. “I feel like there’s something immoral about this,” he says, and you stop stacking sand into one of the toys to look at him with a confused frown. “Aren’t we technically stealing from some kids?”

“Sunghoon. If those kids really cared about these plastic toys, they wouldn’t have left them here.”

“What if they come back for them?”

“Then we’ll give them back. We’re not monsters.” That’s all it takes for Sunghoon to give in. He helps dig trenches around the towers you build, carving out small windows on them and apologizing profusely when he accidentally pokes too hard into one of them, destroying half of it. 

The second he notices you shivering, Sunghoon is on his feet, unwrapping the scarf around his neck and laying it like a blanket over your shoulders. “I’m going to get us something warm to drink. I’ll be back in a minute!” he announces before you can even protest, and practically runs to the nearest café. 

He only leaves you and the slightly pathetic-looking sandcastle alone for a minute, quickly coming back with two take-away cups of milky Earl Grey tea and a brownie that he couldn’t help himself from buying. The moan you let out when you bite into it, gooey, sweet chocolate sticking to your teeth, goes straight down Sunghoon’s spine, but he tries not to let his thoughts get too carried away.

“Good, right?” he asks, laughing when you nod fervently. When you laugh too, it’s a sound so sweet, it rivals the decadence of the brownie. “I sometimes make the trip all the way here just for this.”

“I thought I’d be done with sweets after this morning, but this is so good.”

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak. “Sorry, Berta. I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of my life.”

Sunghoon hopes you’ll remember him as the boy who’d introduced you to those brownies, if nothing else.

The two of you are silent for a little bit, but it’s a comfortable silence—something Sunghoon didn’t know was possible with someone he’d just met. This was something he loved about the sea: it allowed for some quiet. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the calls of the seagulls, the dogs barking after them—it all meant he didn’t need to fill the space with needless chatter. He could look out at the peaceful water, you by his side, and just enjoy the moment.

“I’m still so amazed whenever I come to the beach, no matter how many times it’s been.” Sunghoon’s voice is quiet when he speaks, lower than usual. It sounds a lot more intimate than he means it to be. You turn your head to look at him, silently asking him to go on. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes as he watches the water. “The town I grew up in is right in the middle of the country, so the sea is like, a five-hour drive. There was a lake nearby, but it was nothing compared to this. It might sound silly, but being from somewhere where everyone knows each other, I never realized just how big the world was until I came here and saw the sea for the first time.”

“You’d never been to the sea before coming here?” you ask, surprise clear in your voice. 

He shakes his head. “My hometown isn’t far from the mountains, so it’s a huge tourist spot both in the winter and in the summer, which meant my mom had to work even when my sister and I were out of school and could actually go on holiday. We’d go visit my grandparents and aunts when we found the time, but that was it.” He meets your gaze, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of his hometown and his family. “This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home.” 

The corners of your lips raise into a smile too, matching Sunghoon’s. “And how has that been going?”

He sighs. “It’s okay. I miss my mom and sister like crazy, of course, but they FaceTime me so much that I barely notice it. And anyways, it’s also nice to be on my own. Discover another part of myself, and all that.”

“For sure.” 

There’s a slight shift in your expression that Sunghoon catches onto, a falter in your smile and a hint of sadness in your eyes. He doesn’t want to force a topic that you don’t want to talk about, so he just gently eggs you on, in case all you need is a small push.

“What about you? I think Jake mentioned you guys growing up around here, only an hour or so away.”

At the mention of your brother, the smile returns to your eyes. You take a deep breath and think for a bit, but eventually, you start talking. Although Sunghoon’s eyes are on you, you keep yours trained on the sea. “Yeah, we did. We live just up the coast, so we were always hanging out at the beach. In a way, it’s nice having the sea here as well. It’s like-I don’t know.”

“Like having a piece of home even when you’re away?”

Your gazes meet for just a second, the surprise clear in your eyes, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and you turn away from Sunghoon once more. “Basically, yeah.” A sardonic smile appears on your lips. “Although the constant reminder isn’t always appreciated.” 

He tilts his head. When you don’t say anything further, he flicks some sand onto your hand and asks you what you mean by that. He looks at you with curiosity and kindness only, eager to know more about you, to let you know that you can open up to him, that he won’t judge you, but careful not to overstep any boundaries either. It seems to work.

“It might sound stupid, but back home, the beach was a place I could go to when it all was a bit too much, you know? Like an escape from everyday life. Where I could forget about all of the pressure on my shoulders.” Sunghoon hums, and you take another deep breath. “I don’t know if you and Jake talk about this sort of thing, but… our parents are barely nice when we do well, and pretty awful when we don’t reach their expectations. So we were like, constantly having to outdo ourselves just for them to say, ‘Keep it up’, or something like that. And if we did something wrong, well…”

You trail off, but Sunghoon knows what you mean. “Yeah, Jake said they barely spoke to him anymore because he decided to play hockey instead of becoming, like, a doctor or something.”

You smile, but it’s humorless. “Yep. They send him money, and he comes home for a bit over Christmas and summer break, but that’s it. I’ve gone home by myself sometimes and they won’t even mention him, it’s insane.”

“He also doesn’t talk about it a lot.”

“I know. I’m always the one to bring it up. I know it’s a sensitive topic for him, obviously, but I still find it amazing how well he deals with it. But me… despite everything, I still need their approval, you know?” you ask, and Sunghoon nods.

“That makes sense.”

You sigh. “I guess. And I’m obviously not becoming a doctor like them. Not a medical one, at least. It took a year of convincing them that doing the degree I’m doing was okay. ‘Cause at the end of the day, it’s still me filling in my university applications, and they can’t actually force me to go to medical school, but I still wanted them to be proud of me. Even if I study languages.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as you both look out at the waves crashing against the shore. When you start talking again, you look down at the sand, picking it up and letting it filter through your fingers. “So, yeah. Jake got a scholarship here, and I didn’t wanna be too far from home, so here we are. We’re so close to home, the sea I went to when I needed a break in high school and the sea I go to now are one and the same. And now it reminds me of my parents rather than making me forget about them.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” Sunghoon says. “I didn’t think…”

You cut him off with a smile. “It’s okay. Now I’ve created new memories. Nice ones. And you know… wherever I am, it’ll be at the back of my mind. It’s up to me whether I let it affect my life or not.”

“Letting go of these things is never easy,” Sunghoon offers. “You also can’t blame yourself if it does affect you sometimes.”

When you look at Sunghoon, your eyes darting back-and-forth between his like they’re searching for something there, he feels himself tense up slightly. He can’t read you at all, has no idea what you’re thinking even as you smile and say, “You’re right.” Even as you silently link your pinky with his, gazing down at your hands with a small smile. He hadn’t realized how cold his hands were until this small touch, so small yet able to spread warmth throughout his entire body. When he speaks, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes—he’s still so focused on where your hands touch, too aware of the skin of your finger right against his. Such a small, innocent touch. He can’t even begin to understand why it means so much to him.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is super cool,” he says. “I’ve always been so shit at foreign languages, let alone dead languages. And packing your bags and going abroad for a year, not everybody can do that. Becoming a doctor might be hard, but it also takes a specific kind of person to do what you do. And what Jake does. It’s all valuable.”

“Now, if you could say that again while I record you to show my parents, please,” you say, making him laugh.

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“What about you?” you ask him after a small pause. “I can’t be the only one who trauma-dumps on the first date.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t even dared entertain the thought that this might be more than a platonic hang-out in case he was crossing a line—but you’ve just called it a date. With just a few casual words, you’ve changed the entire meaning of the hours you’ve spent together. He hopes you can’t tell how flustered it’s made him.

“Well, there’s not much trauma to dump, really. Sorry.” 

You giggle. “Don’t apologize. That’s a good thing.”

Now that you’ve just opened up about your parents, Sunghoon is scared that telling you about how good of a childhood he had might come off as insensitive—but you smile softly at him, holding his hand face-up in yours, tracing the lines of his palm with the tip of a finger, and he starts talking. “So, it was just me, my older sister and my mom growing up. My dad died when I was 2.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It is a bit sad that I don’t have any memories of him, but everyone who knew him said he was a great guy. And my mom’s had this boyfriend since I was like, 10? He’s the one who got me to start hockey. So it hasn’t been that bad.”

“Your mom must be really strong.”

Sunghoon smiles. “She is. She’s amazing. To raise two kids on your own while grieving and not royally fuck up is… well, amazing. She’s always been so supportive of us, no matter what we wanted to do. My sister did well at school, but I wasn’t so good. I never really enjoyed it, but she’s never made me feel bad about it. She didn’t mind that all I wanted to do was hit a puck around.” 

“And you’re pretty good at hitting that puck around, aren’t you?”

“I’m not so bad,” Sunghoon says, chuckling along with you. He’s about to go on, but he is cut off by a raindrop hitting his hand, then another one; before either of you know it, your clothes are soaked through. Sunghoon takes his denim jacket off, using it as a makeshift umbrella for the both of you as you run towards the nearest awning, shaking with giddy laughter until you forget about the chilly rain and the clothes sticking to your skin. When it doesn’t let up for another few minutes, Sunghoon suggests catching the bus back, and you agree. 

The heating on the bus is set on low, but it’s enough to warm Sunghoon up as soon as he steps onto it. You sit at the back in a corner of your own, multiple rows away from the other people onboard. The two of you are relatively quiet, lost in your own thoughts until Sunghoon, after much internal deliberating, takes one of your hands in his and interlaces your fingers together. You look up at him, but he doesn’t return your gaze, eyes fixed on the window to hide his shy smile and the blush slowly staining his cheeks. To his surprise, you squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a second, unsure how to react to your reciprocated affection, but he makes himself relax into your touch, and starts brushing his thumb back-and-forth on the back of your hand. The sudden storm has made day turn to night a little earlier today, and with the quiet hum of the bus, he finds himself on the edge of sleep for the whole ride—the only thing keeping him awake is his booming heart.

The bus is nearing his stop when the buzz of his phone in his back pocket jolts him awake. You lift your head from his shoulder, massaging your neck as you fish your phone out of your own pocket. Sunghoon, more intrigued by you than by whoever has texted him, watches as the brightness of your screen makes you wince. Once you’ve read the text, you turn towards him, sleepy eyes and sleepy voice as you ask him whether he’s seen “this,” referring to a text from Chaewon. dinner at our flat tonight!!! come whenever. bring drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot she was doing that tonight,” you say through a yawn.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Do you have enough energy for it?”

“I always have enough energy for Chaewon’s cooking.”

You and Sunghoon make a pit-stop at a grocery store to buy two bottles of white wine and the hummus Chaewon likes, then head to your flat. Naturally, questions are asked when you and Sunghoon arrive at the exact same time, but before Sunghoon can explain that you spent the day together, Minjeong’s head pops out of the kitchen door, and she asks whether you ran into each other downstairs. Chaewon is only looking at the both of you, waiting for an answer, so she doesn’t see the very pointed look Minjeong gives you, as if to say Agree with me or else. You quickly glance at Sunghoon then say, “Yeah, we just arrived at the same time.” When they’ve both turned away, you tell him in a hushed tone that you’ll ask her about it later. 

The girls are busy in the small kitchen and Chaewon insists that they don’t need any more help, so you and Sunghoon bring two chairs by the kitchen door and sit as Yunjin catches the four of you up on the most recent drama in her Law cohort. Jay arrives twenty minutes later, but it isn’t another hour before Jake shows up with the excuse that he was taking a nap.

“Someone would think you don’t sleep at night, with the amount of naps you take,” you say.

“Oh my God, I miss when you weren’t here,” Jake replies, flicking your forehead before promptly plopping himself down on the couch. “I was so hungover when I woke up. I had to sleep it off,” he explains as he grabs four cans of beer from his backpack. 

Chaewon always makes a point to ask how everyone’s spent their day, but today, she unfortunately starts with Sunghoon, so he doesn’t have any time to come up with anything believable other than the truth, which is exactly what he does—and when Jay asks, What, to the beach by yourself? under Minjeong’s heavy gaze, he has no choice but to say yes. He isn’t sure why it’s such a big deal that you spent the day with him, or why it needs to be kept a secret, but there must be a reason. He’ll find out later. When it’s your turn, you look straight into Sunghoon’s eyes as you say you spent the day at the library but didn’t get much work done. Everyone ignores Jake when he exclaims Boring! and Chaewon swiftly moves onto Jay.

But you don’t. 

Your eyes stay on Sunghoon, unflinchingly watching him, expression unreadable, and he finds himself unable to look away, even as he feels his face heat up and his stomach flip. Then you smile, a satisfied smirk like you got what you wanted, and shift your gaze to Jay, who’s going on and on about the first six episodes of Lost he binge-watched earlier and wondering why nobody had told him about this “masterpiece of a show” before. Sunghoon is too busy thinking about the way you’d looked at him and pondering all the reasons for it to listen carefully. He watched Lost when he was fourteen anyway.

All throughout the evening, as the seven of you eat Chaewon’s pasta dish (which she made entirely from scratch, and is probably one of the best things to have ever graced Sunghoon’s taste buds), drink, talk, and afterwards, play card games, every glance between you and Sunghoon feels like a secret conversation that only the two of you are privy to. No one except for Minjeong is aware that you spent the day just the two of you until now—and even she doesn’t know what it is you did. Within a day of knowing each other, you already share memories that are yours and no one else’s. Sunghoon is giddy with the knowledge, heart skipping every time your eyes meet, no matter how fleetingly. When you’re all saying goodbye, it takes everything in him not to hug you for an awkwardly long time and to tear himself away from you. 

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

For the entirety of the year you were gone, Sunghoon could only nod and smile while the others bemoaned your absence or commented on how much more fun it’d be if you were here (even Jake, after enough wine spritzers, would admit to missing you). He understood that the group dynamics might feel different to them without you around, but this particular set of people was all he knew, so he never minded it. It reminded him of people telling him how sad it must’ve been growing up without a father, trying to be empathetic, when he didn’t know how he could miss something he never had. 

But now that you’re here, he gets it. You add something to the group that he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in your affectionate gestures towards Chaewon and Yunjin, in your shared sense of humor with Jay (which no one else seems to find funny, save for Sunghoon, sometimes), in your bickering with Minjeong and downright arguing with Jake. It’s a hackneyed expression, but you do light up a room—at least in Sunghoon’s opinion, you do. In your presence, everything feels not only more lively, but also more cohesive, like you were the missing piece of a puzzle. Like a historic work of art that has been returned to its rightful owner. 

Sunghoon just finds himself drawn to you, at times unable to keep his eyes off of you, and the only things keeping him from making a move are his inherent shyness and the eyes of your friends. He doesn’t want to mess up the friendship he has with anyone from the group, least of all Jake, just because he can’t keep it in his pants. He thought of Yunjin and Chaewon, how their relationship had gone smoothly from the beginning and posed no problem to the dynamic of the group, but he had no idea if this was replicable between you and him at all.

If he had to be honest, a big part of him was also just afraid you’d reject him.

Getting a read on you is hard, which doesn’t help. It’s been three weeks since the gang reunited, since that party where you met. The first semester of his second and your fourth year started a little bit over a week ago; Sunghoon sometimes worries that you think there is some big age gap between you and that you see him as a kid, even though, admittedly, two years is not such a huge difference. In those three weeks, there have been many encounters which could be seen as cases of flirting between the two of you—Sunghoon has noticed every single one of them and replayed each an embarrassing amount of times in his head. A hand carefully posited on his shoulder; prolonged eye contact; jokes whispered in his ear at a crowded house party; knees lightly touching at first, then pressed together during movie night. None of it ever fails to make Sunghoon’s heart flutter. You could breathe in his general direction and it’d make his heart beat fast enough to worry a cardiologist, so when you smile at him, it’s a small death every time.

And so he dares hope that his interest isn’t one-sided—although most of the time, he is so stuck between thinking none of it means anything and thinking every single thing you do is a sign that you like him, that he rarely knows what to think. And whenever you’ve paid him enough attention to make him believe it’s not all in his head, you do something that proves him wrong. Watching you interact with other people, he realizes that you keep good eye contact with everyone and that you’re just as touchy and playful with all of your friends. At parties, you hit it off with new people and catch up with old friends without so much as a hint of awkwardness. He watches as you talk to other guys, the same smile that has been making him weak for the past three weeks, directed towards them and not him. Sunghoon assumes you’re either really nice to everyone and oblivious to the fact that it could be seen as flirting, or you just flirt with everyone. 

In that sense, the two of you are complete opposites. Sunghoon, whose entire friend group hangs on the fact that he befriended Jay, who knew Jake, who knew you, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon. Sunghoon who has spoken to maybe half of his hockey team outside of the locker rooms and the occasional party. Sunghoon who, outside of his usual friend group, has managed to make three other friends on his own in the year he’s been at university, because they had been put in a group project and magically hit it off enough to upgrade from classmates to friends. 

Then there’s you, who has to stop every thirty seconds at a party to say hi to someone you know. You, who still keeps in touch with the friends you made in a foreign country, even those who spoke broken English. You, who didn’t make Sunghoon feel like his crippling shyness was a problem when you first met. 

He doesn’t understand how everyone who meets you doesn’t instantly fall in love. 

Or maybe they do, and he’s just one of many vying for your heart. 

Tonight is one of the nights where all he can do is watch from afar as you interact with another man that he desperately wishes was him. With your lower back against the kitchen counter, drink in hand as you laugh with that other guy, eyes never leaving his face, it almost looks like someone has copied your time with Sunghoon at the costume party and pasted it onto this post-hockey game party. All you’re missing is a bright pink cowgirl hat and boots to match.

And yet, it’s his team jacket over your shoulders, his name and number on your back. Sunghoon shouldn’t feel nearly as jealous as he does.

So he does what any good friend would do, and blames Jay for reasons completely unwarranted—even now, days after receiving his advice, and hours after taking it, Sunghoon still can’t help but regret involving him at all. 

Initially, Sunghoon hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about his growing feelings for you—he’d thought that if he pushed them away and kept them to himself, they’d go away on their own. But clearly, they didn’t, seeing as how his stomach always twisted in nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing you and how he could never get through a conversation with you without blushing. So, quicker than he’d like to admit, he’d given in and told Jay about the day you’d spent at the beach and how felt about you now, thinking it was some big shameful secret that would render his friend flabbergasted. 

That was his first mistake. 

Jay wasn’t impressed. “Yeah, it’s been pretty obvious, dude,” he’d said through a mouthful of cheeseburger. It was after hockey practice, and they were sitting in the burger joint near the ice rink that had some of the best student deals in town. Jake was going on a Hinge date, and Sunghoon had lured Jay in with the promise of free food (Jay wanted to go home and game, but all Sunghoon needed to do to convince him was to say “I’ll pay for it”). 

“Obvious? How obvious? Does everyone know? Does Jake know?” Sunghoon asked, growing more agitated by the second.

“Jake is possibly the worst room-reader that has ever lived, so no, I don’t think he’s caught on. But the rest of us know. I mean, you look at her like a twelve-year-old with a crush on his English teacher,” Jay said, unceremoniously cramming fries into his mouth.

Sunghoon ignored the slightly humiliating remark, still preoccupied by the fact that he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought he had. He leant in towards Jay and dropped his voice to a whisper, even though the restaurant was practically empty, save for them and a group of rowdy middle school boys who were definitely not paying attention to them. “Do you think… does she know?”

Jay dropped his fist on the table in sudden annoyance, causing Sunghoon to jump back in his seat. “Now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.” Before Sunghoon could defend himself and argue that he’s being completely rational, Jay launches into a surprisingly moving monologue. “It’s fine if you like her, there’s nothing to be embarrassed of. Everybody feels attraction towards other people, everybody gets crushes, it’s no big deal. Just talk to her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same way, and you both move on, because you’re adults.”

There’s nothing worse than a friend being right about something you absolutely don’t want to hear. Sunghoon did feel like he had been carrying a horrible secret around, but Jay was spot-on: crushes are a very common, very human experience. And yet Sunghoon managed to feel like he was the only one who had ever had to go through this torture. “You say that like it’s easy,” he said, sulking.

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

“So what, your advice is just to confess to her?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “See? You’re saying confess like it’s some sin you have to repent for. Yeah, just tell her.”

“Just tell her,” Sunghoon repeated, looking at his friend like he was crazy. Jay just took another bite of his burger.

“Yeah, dude. It’s not even like you’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s no risk of ruining a friendship, or anything.”

“But do you even know if she feels the same way at all?”

Jay shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned anything,” he said, and Sunghoon’s heart dropped in disappointment. “But it’s Y/N, she’ll be cool about it. And who knows, she might actually see something in you, for some godforsaken reason.”

Jay laughed at his own joke, and Sunghoon afforded him a chuckle. They moved on to other topics, but later, as they waited for Jay’s bus to come, he couldn’t help himself. “Do you think Jake will mind? If something happens with Y/N and me?”

Jay thought for a second. “I think he’d be more upset with her than with you, what with everything that happened with Heeseung... But knowing him, he probably won’t care as long as you aren’t weird in front of him.” He puts a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder and shakes it gently. “Don’t let that stop you from making a move, okay? You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.” His bus came then, so Sunghoon couldn't ask for more details about this Heeseung situation—he knew that there had been something between you and him which hadn’t ended particularly well, but no one ever really talked about it so he didn’t dare bring it up. All he knew was that it had been significant enough for Jay to mention it now, and for Jake to seem bothered every time it was mentioned.

He put all of that out of his head for the time being. In a way, he had just received Jay’s blessing; even if it scared him shitless, he could make a move. Perhaps not something as straightforward as Jay was suggesting, but something, at the very least. 

The first major hockey game of the season was that coming Friday. Sunghoon had an idea.

The morning of, he shot you a text. He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as he can, so that you wouldn’t know he spent close to an hour deleting, writing and pouring over a singular sentence. Can you meet me in front of the locker rooms 30 mins before the game? 

That was his second mistake.

You replied twenty minutes later, twenty minutes that Sunghoon spent questioning everything that had led up to this moment.

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

You even got there five minutes early. He was waiting for you, all decked out in his hockey uniform, save for the gloves and protective headgear. He was anxiously chewing on gum, heart doing somersaults inside his ribcage—a grin found his lips as soon as you appeared around the corner, the sight of you alleviating his nerves for a second, then doubling them when you came close. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and slightly trembling.

“Hey,” you simply replied, a smile on your face to match his as he took you in his arms. It was a hug that lasted a second longer than it should, but that also ended too early for his liking.

“Um, I only have a second, Coach will be wanting to give one of his pep talks,” he said when you separated. One quick glance back at the locker room doors behind him, then back at you. The tips of his ears burnt, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from furtively darting between your face and the floor. But he’d come this far, so he couldn’t back out now. He just had to get it over with. “Here,” he blurted out, holding out the letterman jacket he had been hiding behind his back. You grabbed it, eyeing him with amused suspicion at first, but surprise spreaded over your features as you unfurled the jacket.

“Your team jacket?” 

He couldn’t tell whether you were amazed or horrified. You stared wide-eyed at the jacket, at its dark green sleeves, at the four letters of his last name and the huge number 8 embroidered onto the back. Your surprise faded back into what he thought — what he hoped — was excitement as you looked at him. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face flush red. “Yeah, I just, you know… It’s the first big game of the year, and I thought it’d bring me good luck if a pretty girl was wearing my name…” he explained, repeating the words he’d practiced over and over, voice turning into more and more of a mumble as he spoke. He had planned on speaking with more confidence, but now, the fact that he could speak at all felt like a miracle.

A light giggle spilled out of your mouth. Sunghoon immediately took it for mockery and regretted every decision that had led him here. “Sorry, it was a silly idea, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he said, reaching for the jacket. But you were quicker than him, hugging the thick bundle of fabric to your chest as you now beamed at him.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, shrugging off your jacket and replacing it with his.

First, relief flooded his body, then pride and excitement — as you spun around and showed the jacket off — at seeing his name on your back, and his attempt at making a move being successful. At least, he thought it was clear what he meant by giving you his jacket to wear at his game—he could only hope you understood. “Well… I’m glad.” Your eyes met, and you both chuckled softly, gazes holding each other’s for a second too long. 

Two weeks ago, Sunghoon still would’ve been able to convince himself this was a fluke; that this was just another one of his crushes that a gentle breeze could blow away. Because after all, when Sunghoon fell in love, it usually went as quickly as it came. But at that moment, in front of the locker rooms, his mind solely on you and not the opening game of the season, he realized this was something else entirely. And whatever it was, he hadn’t felt it in a good long while.

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

“Okay, I should probably head back in now,” he forced himself to say, but made no move to go.

“Okay.”

He paused. “Will you be cheering me on?”

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

He nodded slowly, upper body starting to turn away but feet still firmly planted on the ground. “Okay.” 

Another second passed, and just as he was about to actually walk away, you grabbed his hand. Before he could compute what was happening, you lifted your head and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. His hand was still in yours when you took a step back, and for once, it was you who looked sheepishly at the floor. “For good luck,” you explained. He had no time to reply—you were already walking away, only looking back once to wave and shoo him in the direction of the locker room. He chuckled and nodded, but waited until you were out of sight to head back into the locker room.

Inside the locker room, everyone was too focused on getting their head in the game to notice his giddy smile. Your lips had been warm and soft against his cheeks, a welcome repeat of that time at the costume party, but the quickness of it all had only made him want more. From that very first night he’d met you, the question of how your lips would feel on his had scarcely left his mind. This brought him a step closer to getting an answer, but also made his curiosity grow tenfold.

Thankfully, by the time his coach gathered them around for a last minute pep talk, he’d managed to put the distracting thoughts of you out of his head, at least temporarily—he’d need to play well, for himself and his team mostly, but impressing you was also a priority. 

As the captain, Heeseung said a few words. He reminded the team of how important this match was and went over the main strategy points. For the time being, Sunghoon was able to forget about his arguably unfounded resentment against the older boy and whatever it was he had to do with you. This was not the time for jealousy over someone he had no right to feel jealous over. 

A few minutes later, his members and those of the opposing team poured out onto the rink for warm-up. Sunghoon searched the crowd for your face—when he found it, you were already smiling wide and waving at him. His heart did something funny, but Jay punched his shoulder pad and he remembered what he was there for. He could get lost in the eyes of a pretty girl later, specifically when he’d destroyed the other team and shown her how good of a hockey player he was.

Every now and then as he skirted around the rink and did his stretches, he stole glances at you. They didn't last long, because every single time, you’d already be looking, as if your eyes never strayed from him. Knowing you were watching made him nervous at first, but by the end of warm-up, mainly because he didn’t have much of a choice, he’d turned those nerves into an ever stronger will to do well.

The moment the referee blew the whistle, and for the hour that followed, Sunghoon was locked in on one thing and one thing only: winning. He was only competitive when it came to hockey—he didn’t care about dying in an online battle game or losing to Jake at beer pong, but once he was on the rink, he had to win. Pride surged through him and filled every crevice of his aching limbs whenever he or one of his team members scored, and the feeling that came with a victory, with hugging his teammates in celebration or hearing the crowd cheer for them, was like nothing else he’d ever known. The other side of that coin meant that any loss was a tremendous disappointment. Getting beat at an important game could put him in a week-long funk. His sister had once carefully hinted at his self-esteem relying too much on his hockey performance, and although his first reaction had been to dismiss her, he knew she had poked at some truth there. But what could he do—on particularly lonely nights, he truly thought hockey was all he had going for him. 

To his overthinking nature, becoming so single-minded the second the whistle blows was a relief, a break from the stress of daily life. He didn’t have to worry about his next deadline or about what the guys on the team thought of him or about the inevitable phone call to his mom asking for more money for groceries. It was respite from the thoughts surrounding you that plagued him: how you felt about him, how you might react knowing what he felt for you, how Jake might react. Why Minjeong hadn’t wanted you to say anything that evening, but why Jay had told him to just go for it. Heeseung, whom he had to respect as the captain and an undeniably talented player, but also as someone who had had something to do with you, whether good or bad. All of it had been wildly bustling around Sunghoon’s mind, but once on the rink, all he had to concern himself with was the puck and getting it in the opposing team’s goal. 

And Sunghoon did just that—he scored the first goal of the game, another one in the second period, then a third during the eleventh hour, breaking the tie between the two teams. He smiled right at you after each one, just to make sure you had seen everything. He couldn’t quite describe how it felt to see you clap and cheer for him, jumping up-and-down, forming a megaphone with your hands around your mouth and yelling, “Go Sunghoon!” all while you wore his jacket. It was a separate kind of pride and satisfaction from the sort he’d get seeing anyone else cheer him on, for sure. 

The other team put up a good fight, getting in a few goals of their own and protecting their side well, but in the end, thanks to Sunghoon’s goal, it was his team that won. He took his helmet off and got his hair ruffled by half of his team, then shook hands with the other team, trying to contain his boastful smile—some ice hockey players flew off the handle very quickly, and starting a fight was the last thing he wanted.

Kids and local fans huddled by the barriers on each side of the player’s tunnel to get an autograph or a picture. People around here were weirdly attached to their university sport teams, and the athletes on teams that did particularly well — namely football and rugby — were sort of local celebrities. Their ice hockey team wasn’t quite at that stage yet, but they were placing better nationally with every year, and so the local interest had grown. More kids had started signing up for lessons, and their parents often brought them to home games. As Sunghoon chatted with men twice his age and took selfies with ten-year-olds, he tried to find you in the crowd, to no avail. He’d been hoping for a thumbs-up from you for a game well played, or even a hug, but you were nowhere in sight.

It wasn’t until half-an-hour later, after saying bye to all the fans that had waited after the game for them, listening to Heeseung and their coach congratulate them (but also remind them to not take anything for granted), showering and changing, that he got to check his phone.

chaewon we going k-bbq! u guys played well see u later at da party!!!!

Disappointment only had a second to sink to the bottom of his stomach. He’d barely finished reading the text when he was hoisted up by the shoulders. Two of his senior teammates, Soobin and Beomgyu, marched him towards the exit. “We are getting you wasted tonight, Park,” Beomgyu announced, a wide grin on his lips.

“I have a good feeling about this season,” Soobin added. Sunghoon looked back to find Jay and Jake simply shrugging and laughing at him.

Indeed, the second they got to the dorm where tonight’s party would be taking place, a beer was thrusted in his hand. It was only 7 p.m., still light outside, but that didn’t stop the team nor their friends that had come to the game. They sipped beer like it was water, so much so that two hours later, when the party started to grow, Sunghoon was already quite inebriated. It didn’t help that his cup was never empty for too long, and that he had the reassurance of being in his own dorm—it was the closest student building to the ice rink, and so was one of the prime spots for hockey parties. He could get as drunk as he wanted — or as Beomgyu wanted — and still get home in less than a minute. 

He somehow ended up in the corridor, part of a nonsensical conversation about candle-making with two guys he had recognized from one of his Phys Ed classes but could not for the life of him remember the names of. One had shared that candle-making was a big hobby of his, and it had made Sunghoon and the other unknown man lose their minds—Sunghoon had never realized how curious about candle-making he was, but he couldn’t stop asking questions. It sounded great. Maybe he’d have to pick up candle-making, too. 

Eventually, he headed back to the kitchen for a new drink. For the nth time this evening, he thought of texting you, then immediately thought against it. He wanted to know when you’d get here, but he didn’t want you to know that he wanted to know—although as the night deepened and his intoxication rose, he could remember less and less why that would be such a bad thing. He stepped into the kitchen, and going from the brightly-lit corridor to the dark kitchen with flashing neon lights made him so dizzy that he made a beeline for the couch, needing to sit down for a second.

And that was when he saw you.

Lower back against the counter, talking with a guy he’s never seen in his life. You look like you’re having fun—smiling, laughing, keeping eye contact with that guy. You’re still wearing his jacket. It should probably reassure him—his name is literally on you, what does it matter that you’re speaking to someone else? But instead, all he can think is that wearing his jacket must mean nothing to you. What was basically a confession from him seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

His friends’ words over the past year come back to him—how much you flirt with people, how it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to go home with a guy after a party and never speak of him ever again. Was this what was happening here?

He knows it’s unreasonable, but in his drunken state, he takes it as a betrayal. Like he can’t believe you haven’t read his mind, figured out how he felt about you, and decided to give special attention to him and him only. He’s only able to take it for so long—two minutes later, he trudges out of the room, walking right past you but not looking your way.

His new mission is to find his friends, but before he’s done much searching, he hears his name being called out. Of course, he recognizes your voice immediately, but he doesn’t quite believe it until he looks over his shoulder, and there you are, face glowing and smiling wide. You’ve clearly had a few drinks, but he likes to think you’d be just as happy to see him if you were sober. He turns around to face you, watching as you narrow the distance between the two of you. He’s not in a much better state—the simple thought that you had come after him makes him forget any sort of resentment he held against you a second ago. When you reach him, he holds on to one of your arms, as much an effort to stabilize his swaying body as an excuse to touch you.

“Hey,” he simply says. He’s always at a loss for words around you, so scared he’ll say the wrong thing that he ends up barely speaking at all. He’s only sober enough to know that with all the cheap beer and vodka running through his blood, his odds of making a fool of himself are even bigger. 

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

“I know!” you exclaim. “I wanted to come right away, but Chaewon was hell-bent on getting her Korean barbecue.”

“She does get cranky when she hasn’t had pork belly in a while.” Sunghoon feels like he’s just won the Nobel Prize when you let out a laugh. “Was the food good at least?”

“It was amazing. So worth getting here late,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I see how it is.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “Then we should go there together next time.” 

Your smile changes, turning from cheerful to surprised, but amused—almost mischievous. You take a step forward. Sunghoon gulps; the gap between the two of you was narrow to begin with. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Usually, this type of straight-forwardness would have him stuttering, but drunk Sunghoon is a man sober Sunghoon barely recognizes in the morning. “Yeah. I am. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

“Nice. Okay.” For a second, you just look at each other. Another thing about drunk Sunghoon: he doesn’t feel like prolonged eye contact will make him spontaneously combust. He actually quite enjoys it. He also stumbles, even when all he’s doing is trying to stand straight. “You’re still wearing my jacket,” he eventually says, reaching out to take the end of your sleeve between his fingers.

You stretch out your arms and appraise the team jacket as if you only remembered you had it on. “Yeah. It’s comfy.”

“It looks good. You look good.”

“You’re not quite sober, are you?” you ask suddenly. 

“Is it that obvious?” When you nod, he giggles, lowering his head in defeat. “The guys made me drink so much.”

“You did score three goals after all. And you looked good doing it.”

At the praise, he stands up to his full height and places his palms behind his head in a victorious pose. “I did, didn’t I?” he says, looking off in the distance with a self-assured look that makes you burst into laughter. He drops the confident facade and laughs along with you, until somebody bumps into him and sends him stumbling forwards. If you weren’t standing there to catch him, he’d probably have fallen flat on his face. But even though he doesn’t fall, he feels all the alcohol catching up to him and threatening to come right back out where it came from. You hold him for a second, and just as you ask him if he’s okay, he says, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

Arm under his shoulders, you let Sunghoon lean most of his weight on you as you guide him towards the elevator. It’s just one floor, but you said you didn’t want to risk the stairs with him. “Hey, who was that guy with you in the kitchen? That guy in the striped shirt? You guys seemed real chummy back there…” he mumbles as you help him out of the elevator. Even on the verge of sickness, Sunghoon is preoccupied by more important things.

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” he echoes, more venom in his voice than needed.

You look at him, taking in his disgruntled expression, and chuckle. “Yeah, he’s having some problems with his boyfriend. He asked me for advice.”

Sunghoon almost freezes in his tracks, but you’re there to keep him walking towards his room. “Oh. He has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah…” He can tell you want to tease him about it, but thankfully, you say nothing. He’s made it clear he had gotten jealous of your gay friend—no need to spell it out in so many words. Once you reach his studio (which he’d stupidly left unlocked), he heads straight for the bathroom, locking himself in, half out of embarrassment, half because he really doesn’t want you to see him throw up. Talk about a turn-off. He leans over the toilet bowl, waiting for the vomit to rise, but nothing comes. He waits, and waits, mind completely empty, head spinning even though he’s sitting very still, when suddenly a knock on the door pulls him out of his stupor.

“Sunghoon? It’s been ten minutes. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door for you. Without realizing, he fell asleep like a bored teenager in math class. “All right,” he hears you say.

He’s surprised you’re able to carry him out of the bathroom—if he was a deadweight before, by now, rigor mortis has practically set in. Despite his small student room, crossing it takes you an entire minute, and when you reach his bed, you all but let him flop on the mattress. He doesn’t mind. As soon as his body hits the bed, he feels quite snug, curling against his blanket. You start to unbutton his shirt, probably just thinking he’s already fallen asleep and wanting to make him more comfortable, but your fingers freeze when he starts giggling. Shoulders shaking with unbridled laughter, he feels as delighted as a five-year-old who just said a naughty word and made all his drunk relatives laugh at the family dinner. 

“I know I looked really hot tonight, but can we wait until I’m sober?” he asks, slurring his words slightly and keeping his eyes shut, despite the shit-eating smirk on his lips. You hit him on the chest but it just makes him laugh more.

“Bold of you to assume I’d still hit when I’ve just had to peel you off your toilet seat.” He lets you finish helping him out of his button-down. 

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks. He tries to look at you, but his eyes don’t quite open all the way, and they don’t focus properly, due to a strong mix of alcohol and inappropriate thoughts. Of you, specifically. His body feels suddenly very heavy, his want for you weighing him down into the mattress. The room is dark, your face illuminated only by the light in the bathroom and the glow of the street lights outside. You always look pretty, but your beauty is especially breath-taking right now, Sunghoon thinks. He wants to reach out and touch your face, wants to trace your jawline and know what your skin would feel like against his fingers. He doesn’t realize he’s actually doing it until he hears you inhale shakily.

The expression in your eyes is unreadable, and quickly gone, replaced by an annoyed squint. You grab his wrist gently, setting it back down next to him. “I’m gonna make you some ramen. You need to sober up, and you haven’t had dinner, have you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. He feels rejected, and it makes him inordinately sad.

For five minutes, he watches as you rummage around his cupboards for a pack of ramen, fill a pot with water and bring it to a boil. His thoughts float back to your day at the beach, memories that he’s preciously held onto for the past few weeks. You running around on the sand, opening yourself up to him and letting him open himself up to you, holding his hand on the bus. That day, he’d really thought it would be the beginning of something new; but as time passed, he became less and less sure of himself. He’s scared it might’ve just been a fluke, and that he’d have to destroy the castle he’d built in his head. He’s seen you almost every day since, but it’s never been the same. And even if your eyes met unexpectedly sometimes, or if you went out of your way to sit next to him during movie nights, he can’t let himself go on with so few signs. Jay was right—he had to be clear about his feelings, otherwise this would go on forever. Even if it didn’t feel like it, the Earth would continue spinning on its axis if you didn’t reciprocate.

“I’ve missed you.”

You pause in your movements. “Missed me? But we’ve seen each other every day,” you say after a few seconds, still facing away from him. Your voice is softer than he’s heard it before, almost unsure of itself.

“No,” Sunghoon whines, frowning. He can barely keep his eyes open—he wishes you could read his mind so he wouldn’t have to explain, but alas. “I miss you—the you from the beach. When it was just me and you. It’s not the same with the others around.”

Silence falls over the room again. Sunghoon wonders if you’re just going to ignore what he said, until you take a deep breath, and walk back to his bed. You crouch in front of him and take both of his hands in yours. Electricity flows from where your hands touch to the rest of his body. He suddenly feels a lot more awake.

“It’s just the two of us now,” you whisper. 

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

You smile. It might be the alcohol playing tricks on him, but Sunghoon swears there’s a hint of sadness in your eyes. One of your hands comes up to his hair. You thread your fingers gently through it, pushing it away from his forehead, then bring your hand down to the side of his face, your palm cupping it tenderly. Sunghoon lets himself lean into your warm touch. With his eyes closed, the darkness surrounding him makes this feel like a dream—he basks in the moment so as not to let a second of it go to waste.

“Do you wanna do something just us two this week?” you ask softly. His eyes shoot open—he needs to be sure this is really happening. He nods again, fervently this time, and it makes you chuckle. “Okay.”

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

He relaxes once more. He guides your hand towards his mouth and presses his lips against your palm. Something shifts in your eyes—Sunghoon thinks the opportunity to finally kiss you has arisen, but as soon as his gaze drops to your lips, you’re back on your feet. “Let’s eat some ramen, shall we?” you ask as you head back towards the kitchen. Sunghoon tries his best (and probably fails) to not let his disappointment show.

There’s no dining table to speak of, only a low table near Sunghoon’s bed, on which you set down a wooden board and the steaming pot of spicy noodles. You hand him a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, and tell him to eat. Neither of you say much for a while, and Sunghoon grows redder and redder under your watchful gaze. He asks if you want any a few times, but you always turn him down. The silence quickly gets a little too unbearable for him, and he’s got a question burning the tip of his tongue anyway. Now’s as good a time as ever to ask it.

“Something’s been bugging me recently, actually…” You wait for him to go on. “So, at the costume party, right?” You nod. “You said there was only one person you wanted to kiss… Did you mean me?”

You tilt your head, looking at him like you’re trying to figure out whether he’s joking or not. “Yeah, Sunghoon… I meant you. Who else?”

He’s only half-relieved. “So why won’t you kiss me now?”

To his surprise, you smile. “Because you’re drunk.”

Confusion fogs Sunghoon’s brain. Is that all you’re worried about? Is his blood alcohol level the only thing stopping you from kissing him? “But I-I’m fine. I give you consent to kiss me, Y/N.” He’s dead serious, so when you laugh, it only frustrates him further.

“Finish your food, Sunghoon. We’ll see about kissing later.”

He sighs. Later he could deal with. “Fine. But I’ll hold you to it, okay?” he says, pointing a menacing chopstick at you.

“Okay.”

But Sunghoon can’t keep quiet for long—ten seconds later, he’s remembered another question he’s been dying to ask. He continues drinking his soup in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “So what happened between you and Heeseung?”

The question takes you so off-guard, you look like you would’ve done a spit-take had you been drinking water. “That’s-you know about that?”

“Well, not much, that’s why I’m asking.”

You scoff. “Why do you want to know? It’s boring.”

At those words, Sunghoon whips his head up to look at you. “It’s not boring!” he exclaims, perhaps a tad too vigorously. “Anything that has to do with you is interesting to me.”

Finally, the corners of your lips rise. Sunghoon hated the ten seconds in which you weren’t smiling. “Well, there isn’t much to say, anyway. We had a thing when we were in second year, I caught feelings and wanted more, and he didn’t. The end.”

Sunghoon freezes, staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth agape. He then sets his cutlery down neatly next to the pot of ramen and clasps his hands together like he’s in a business meeting. “So you’re telling me that he had the opportunity to make you his girlfriend and he just… didn’t?”

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

He hits the bedsheets next to him, huffing out in annoyance. “What an idiot.”

“He sure is,” you say. You smile to yourself as you grab Sunghoon’s spoon and try some of the broth. He wonders whether anything lies behind that smile. “But it happened a while ago. Don’t be weird with him on my account. He’s still your captain.”

Sunghoon thinks for a second. “Can I side-eye him once in a while? Or not pass him the puck during practice?”

“Sure,” you reply, laughing. You swiftly move on to other topics as Sunghoon slurps the last of his noodles, asking him about the beginning of the party and just how much his teammates made him drink. He’s recounting the shot contest they held, which Mark won with an impressive seven shots of tequila in a row — Sunghoon hopes the boy is okay now — when your phones buzz at the same time. Minjeong’s name appears on your screen, Jay’s on his, both asking where you are.

“Should we head back now?” you offer, although Sunghoon, wishfully perhaps, detects a trace of reluctance in your voice. “You look like you’ve sobered up a bit, seeing as you’re able to string more than two sentences together.”

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

It’s one a.m. when you head back down, and the party is in full swing. Pop music blasts through someone’s JBL speaker in the shared kitchen, the hallways are more crowded than the subway at rush hour, just as full of hockey fans celebrating their team’s win as students who just wanted an excuse to party, and every window is open to alleviate some of the stuffiness. They probably have another hour left before the dorm residents who decided not to join in the festivities call campus police on them.

Sunghoon is relieved to find that Jake is off with other team members, reaching levels of drunkenness that will most definitely be regretted in the morning. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong—he simply let you nurse him back to sobriety after he almost regurgitated his pre-game protein bar and three beers all over your nice shirt. Chaewon and Yunjin are busy making out in a corner, their lack of decorum only increasing when they’ve been drinking, but Jay and Minjeong eye you suspiciously upon seeing the two of you arrive together. You explain what happened so casually that they don’t question it any further.

Chaewon and Yunjin only tear themselves off of each other when a Beyoncé song starts playing, and they drag all four of you to the makeshift dancefloor, which is really just three meters away in the middle of the kitchen. Sunghoon is practically all sobered up by now, but he’s loosened up enough not to feel self-conscious with every step he takes; the fact that you look so happy, dancing with him and laughing at his silly moves, is a considerable bonus. He won’t drink any more, not wanting to risk embarrassing himself further in front of you, and Jay, as the group’s self-proclaimed health guru, probably had his last beer around nine p.m., but the girls, each of them with a cup of suspicious transparent liquid in hand, are getting drunker by the minute—and so is Jake, who has now joined you all on the dancefloor, if his inability to stand straight is anything to go by. Sunghoon assumes you’re also done with alcohol for the night, until you turn to him in the middle of a song no one has heard since 2015 and tell him you’re going to get a drink.

“Okay!” he simply answers, and for a good thirty seconds, basks in the blissful satisfaction of knowing he was the one you informed of your whereabouts. That is, until he realizes a minute later that it was probably a covert invitation for him to come along, which he totally missed. But when he looks over at the counter where all the drinks are, his heart drops—Heeseung is standing in front of you, pouring gin and lemonade into your cup. A flurry of emotions course through Sunghoon, emotions he has no idea what to do with, because he’s not sure they’re entirely warranted. He’s angry that Heeseung is talking to you, after what he did, confused that you’d let him; but mostly, he’s jealous. But he knows it’s only because he has no guarantee that you like him, and that you won’t go off with Heeseung, despite having just talked about how you were over him.

Wait—is that really what you said? You told Sunghoon that what happened with Heeseung didn’t bother you anymore, which doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t go back to him, given the chance. 

Before he can think it over a second time, Sunghoon heads over to where you and Heeseung stand. He places himself right behind you, reaching for a bottle of Coke on your side and pouring himself a drink.

“Oh, hey, Hoon,” his team captain says, clearly surprised to see him there and looking so discontented. Sunghoon can’t remember whether they’ve ever been close enough for Heeseung to call him by his nickname. “Having fun?”

“Yep,” he curtly replies, avoiding eye contact with either of you and looking out at the crowd of party-goers instead. He can feel your gaze, heavy on his face, can see the knowing smirk slowly rising on your lips. How was it that you could see right through him so easily?

“Too much dancing made you thirsty?” you ask, taking a drink from your cup and hiding your smile behind it.

He glares at you, more annoyed that his attempt at subtly sussing out what you and Heeseung were doing together was shut down so quickly than anything else. “Yep,” he repeats.

“You guys know each other?” the older boy asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Jake introduced us,” Sunghoon quickly answers. To his surprise, this makes Heeseung chuckle.

“Jay, Sunghoon, me… Wow, do you meet all your friends through your brother, Y/N?” he asks jokingly. Immediately, so many alarm bells ring in Sunghoon’s head—the implication that you and Heeseung are friends, the fact that he put himself and Sunghoon in the same bag, and above all, that teasing, almost flirtatious tone of his. 

He’s horrified to find you rolling your eyes playfully and saying, “I have other friends, thanks,” in a tone far too similar. At that moment, Minjeong starts yelling about how much she loves everyone in this room but particularly “you guys,” pointing to Jake, Jay, Minjeong and Chaewon, and “you guys, too!” screaming over the music as she points to you and Sunghoon.

“There’s one of them,” you say, half-amused, half-exasperated. “We should probably go check on her. See you around, Heeseung.”

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

Your group’s indicator of when it’s time to go home is when Minjeong starts one of her “I-love-my-friends-so-much” rants—if she’s that drunk, everyone else must be wasted. Indeed, Chaewon and Yunjin are holding onto each other to keep themselves from falling down, and Jake is unable to keep his head up. You, Sunghoon and Jay herd your friends outside and wait for Jake’s Uber, making sure to get him safely inside and to tip the driver generously for his pains. Jay lives nearby yours and the girls’ flat, and Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, walks you all home.

“Just ‘cause you and Jay might need a hand getting these three home,” he tells you. Yunjin, Chaewon and Minjeong are currently running around on the road, pointing and laughing at random shop names, and Jay is yelling at them to get back on the sidewalk.

“Mh-hm.”

“And it’ll be good to completely sober up before going to bed.”

“Right.”

There’s no use putting up a front with you—he’s an open book and you’re an avid reader. You don’t need to say anything to make it clear that you know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with you.

“You know, I told you not to be weird with Heeseung,” you say, gently punching him in the arm.

“Was I weird?” he asks, knowing fully well he hadn’t acted at all like he usually did around his captain. 

“You basically only spoke to let Heeseung know we’re friends. You were making yourself all tall and looking mysteriously out into the distance instead of at us.”

“But I am tall and mysterious,” he says, pride coursing through him as it always does when you laugh at one of his jokes.

“You’re probably the least mysterious person I know, Hoon.”

Hoon. How much sweeter that name sounds coming from you over anyone else.

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a grin on your face. A win is a win. “That’s just a fact.”

Sunghoon smiles victoriously. “I’ll take a fact. But I’m sorry if I was acting weird… I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”

“Heeseung is always bothering me,” you say with a sigh. “He comes up to me like this at every party. He’s just asking how I’ve been, but it’s like he’s sussing out whether or not he’s still got a chance.”

“Do you need me to beat him up? Threaten him? Dox him?”

Even though Sunghoon was only half-joking, you burst out laughing, hard enough for Minjeong to whip around and shout, “What are you laughing about?” as if you had offended her personally. At least Jay is there to make her turn around and focus on walking straight.

“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be needed. I just don’t like talking about it, ‘cause it’s really not that big a deal anymore. It feels like digging up old bones, you know?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’d commit grave robbery with you.”

“You-what?”

“Nevermind. We obviously don’t have to talk about it, but I’m curious.”

You sigh. “I guess it’d make sense for you to know about this.” Sunghoon thinks he sees something like panic flash across your features, but it’s so quick and such a rare expression on you that he’s not sure whether he just imagined it. “You know-just ‘cause everyone else is aware of it, and everything,” you quickly explain.

“Sure.”

“I just… I’m sure Heeseung is a nice guy when it comes to other things, but what the girls and I have concluded is that he’s a bit of an attention whore, you know. When it comes to girls. We fooled around for a while, and he never made it official, even when I made it pretty clear that that was what I wanted. But every time we saw each other after that, he’d flirt with me like nothing had happened. I fell for it at first and flirted back, thinking he had changed his mind… but he really just wanted to make sure I was still into him.”

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

“Exactly. And when I realized that, I stopped giving it to him. I was getting tired of him anyway, saying the same thing every time. But now, I entertain him for a couple of minutes before I walk away. I shut him down before he gets a chance to do it to me.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “I understand the need for validation, but he won’t be getting any from me.”

Jay bravely handles the three drunkards the whole way home, letting you and Sunghoon hang behind and carry on talking. You reach the boy’s apartment first, and yours five minutes later. But when you reach your front door, Minjeong announces she needs to talk to Sunghoon. “Privately,” she emphasizes.

You give Sunghoon an amused look and shrug as if to say “She’s your problem now.” He doesn’t have time to protest before you’ve bid him goodnight and disappeared behind the door, Yunjin and Chaewon in tow, yelling good night at Sunghoon like they’re not going to see him for months. 

Minjeong places her palms flat onto Sunghoon’s torso and looks right at him—to the best of her ability, at least, considering she’s having a hard time focusing her eyes. “Sunghoon,” she says gravely.

“Minjeong?”

“Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she says, slurring her words. “You know I love Y/N, she’s amazing…”

“Yeah, she is,” Sunghoon says firmly—already, he can tell where this is going, and he doesn’t like it.

“But she’s not the best with relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

Minjeong’s hands drop by her sides and she exhales deeply. “I’ve just never seen her in a committed relationship in the-in the almost four years I’ve known her. She never lets things get serious. She’s just so afraid of being hurt, Hoon, and I-” 

A hiccup escapes Minjeong’s lips as tears start pooling in her eyes. Sunghoon has only ever seen Minjeong cry when drunk—even movies that had him sobbing barely made her eyes water. Even if she isn’t in her right state of mind, he knows it means this must be important to her. He holds her arms and tries to put on the most reassuring tone he can. “But I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“No, I know that. I’m scared you’d get hurt. I don’t want things to become weird between all of us.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Minjeong, what-that wouldn’t happen.”

“But it will!” she exclaimed. “If something happens with you and her, and it doesn’t work out the way you want it to, it’ll make things awkward-”

“If that happens,” he interrupts, “I’ll deal with it. I won’t make it your guys’ problem. Y/N and I are adults, okay?”

“You’re like, nineteen…”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’ll be fine.” He takes a step back and opens the door for her to get in. 

She’s only on the first stair when she turns back around. “But, Hoon-” she tries, though he cuts her off.

“Minjeong, I promise-”

“Just don’t rush into anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

She complies, giving him one last look before climbing the stairs to her apartment. Sunghoon closes the door behind her, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

--

Sunghoon is on his way home from hockey practice when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

He almost throws his phone in the air in celebration, as if it was a graduation cap. His Sunday was spent going back-and-forth between lapidating himself for his drunken stupidity, memories, rough as stones, hitting him in the face every time he thought of what he said and how he acted, and congratulating himself for having finally made his feelings for you somewhat clearer. Hopefully, you now know he isn’t just awkward and silent around new people—well, he is, but it’s worse with you.

She never lets things get serious.

Minjeong’s warnings echo in his head as he types a positive — although not over-enthusiastic, ‘cause that’d be uncool — answer, but he dismisses them easily. Perhaps he shouldn’t; Sunghoon is, after all, incredibly serious about any and all romantic encounters. The girl at the grocery store who reached for the same red bell pepper as him was the most serious thing to him in the world for a good ten minutes; all of his school crushes were of utmost importance to him, however long they had lasted.

So this? This is capital-s Serious. But therein lies the problem; he’s so serious about you that he’d let you not make it serious. If Minjeong is right, and you’re not planning on taking this nearly as far as he wishes for it to go, he can already tell he’ll just let you. He’ll probably be happy you wanted anything to do with him at all. 

He has ways of reassuring himself, of convincing himself he isn’t a totally lost cause. Because when Sunghoon falls in love — and he had an inkling this was what this was — it usually goes as quickly as it came. Who’s to say this time next week he won’t have completely moved on? Maybe this date that he’s agreed to will go horribly wrong, you’ll be rude to the waiter, you’ll spill tomato sauce all over your shirt, and the flame in his heart will be put out. Easy as that.

You decide to meet on Wednesday evening, two days from now. Sunghoon suggests a Japanese restaurant he likes, a place he had gone to with his mom and sister when they had dropped him off at university before his first year, and that he knows is nice enough for a date but won’t burn a hole through his wallet.

Seeing you at the library the day before is a real thrill. Nobody but you knows of your plans—at least not until he caves in and tells Jay about it, who congratulates him with a roll of his eyes and a pat on the head. All of your eye contact feels loaded with the kind of complicity that comes with sharing a secret. As much as he would love boasting about it to every soul who’d listen, this secrecy electrifies him—it binds the two of you with something much more real than before. At least, more real than Sunghoon’s imagination and one-sided feelings. He knows that your text wasn’t in any way a confession of your own feelings for him, but it’s a step in the right direction.

In the few hours before your reservation at seven p.m., Sunghoon spends so much time thinking about the date that he’s almost late for it. He thinks about his expectations, then tries to get rid of them; he comes up with ideas of what your expectations might be, remembers Minjeong’s words, dismisses them, remembers them again; he goes through scenarios upon scenarios of everything that might go wrong and everything that might go spectacularly well. He ends up with less than twenty minutes to get ready, but manages to arrive at the restaurant a minute before you.

When he sees you approaching, Sunghoon feels like one of those boys in Disney movies as they watch their girlfriend coming down the stairs in her prom dress. You’re not wearing an over-the-top poofy purple dress, but the effect is the same—his eyes are glued on you with every step you take towards him.

You grab him by the arm and lead him into the restaurant as soon as you reach him. He’s too busy taking in your appearance to be bothered by it. “Don’t look at me like that,” you chide as you wait for waiting staff to seat you. He’d actually think you were mad at him if it wasn’t for the small smile playing on your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re doing right now! You’re staring.”

Realization slowly dawns on him; your gazes have made him lose his composure too many times for him not to know what being flustered looks like. He’d be lying if the fact that it was you in this tight spot and not him didn’t heavily stroke his ego. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You look beautiful,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper so that the approaching waitress can’t hear. Her presence saves you from responding verbally, but as she brings you to your table, you pinch his arm lightly as if to say Be on your best behavior—although Sunghoon would argue this was his best behavior.

You have trouble making up your mind about the food—you want to try everything on the menu. Sunghoon tentatively offers to order a bunch of dishes and share them. “It’s what my family always does at the restaurant, just try as much as you want and take the leftovers to go. We never ate out very often because my mom would spend so much money every time,” he recollects, smiling fondly.

“That actually sounds like a dream. My parents would never do that. It was always just eat what you got, but I’m unable to look at someone else’s food and not want to try it. It honestly should just be common practice to share dishes at the restaurant.”

Sunghoon thinks he could get down on one knee right then and there. Whenever they went out to eat, the boys would roll his eyes at him when he stole bites of their food. But you—you’re like him. He knows he’s prone to over-exaggeration, but he can’t help but feel like if you understand each other on this, you must understand each other at a molecular level.

He had expected a level of awkwardness to your date, at least at the beginning — God knows the moments in which he doesn’t feel like a mumbling fool in front of you are few and far between — but to his surprise, everything goes smoothly. There is no uncomfortable silence, all his jokes miraculously land, even the lousy ones, and you both laugh and talk and share sushi and pork cutlets like it’s the most natural thing in the world, which perhaps it is. His attempts at flirting are well-received and he only turns violently red twice when you compliment him and smile at him in a particularly pretty way.

It’s that day at the beach all over again. Always on the same page, you dip in and out of topics with a synergy he has rarely felt before. Sunghoon realizes it must be the presence of others, rather than you yourself, that makes him feel like he can’t act the way he wants to around you, makes him so nervous. Save for the moments where you make his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies’ wings, he actually feels quite at ease with you, all things considered. Of course, he still tries — and fails — to look cool for you, but he knows it comes from a place within himself rather than because you make him feel as though he has to meet a certain standard. Surprisingly, he can be totally himself, and it seems to be enough for you.

He loves his friends. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he’s not sure he won’t have moments where he’ll wish nothing more than for them all to go away and leave the two of you be.

You eat until you can’t anymore and are still left with enough food for another full meal. You only let him get the bill once he’s promised that next time will be on you. If it means there’ll be a next time, he’s more than happy with making that promise. The sun has set when you exit the restaurant. Sunghoon shivers as he steps outside, the temperature having gone down by at least four degrees in the last two hours.

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

Your apartment is a thirty-minute bus ride away, but Sunghoon offers to walk you home. Anything to spend more time with you.

He spends the first few minutes of the walk worrying about his hand, whether it’s too clammy, whether it’s holding yours right, but he eventually relaxes into the touch. When a particularly chilly gust of wind blows, you drop his hand and hold onto his arm instead, inching closer to him for more warmth.  He only drank lemonade with his meal, but he feels blissfully light-headed.

Silence only arrives when you reach your doorstep. You stand in front of each other, Sunghoon looking down at his feet, you gazing out at the empty street. He knows this is the moment where he is supposed to kiss you. If there was a step-by-step guide on how to date — there probably is, but Sunghoon hasn’t resorted to such loser-like measures yet — this would probably be the moment where it would be written to just kiss her, you idiot. But nerves get the best of him.

At least, you’re there to save the day. You direct your gaze towards him, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “So… are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask, essentially reading his mind. 

He reacts immediately. “Y-yep. Yes. I am.” Heart racing, he takes a step towards you as he rests his hands on your waist. Then he changes his mind, and brings one hand up to your cheek. There’s an eyelash that has fallen below your eye; he brushes it out of the way with his thumb before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

In all of his late-night scenarios and daydreams of kissing you, he had never imagined something as good as this. You find your rhythm within seconds. It’s slow, almost hesitant, yet so tender, it makes Sunghoon’s heart ache. As your lips move against each other in perfect sync, as your hands find their way around Sunghoon’s neck, he realizes he should have known — this will not go away as quickly as it came.

Only when you grab a fistful of his hair, making him react viscerally and wrap his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, does he remember where the two of you are. He leans back, then almost passes out when you chase his lips and press a shorter but just as sweet kiss there. He commits this view to memory—the smile on your lips, the glow on your face, the haziness in your eyes.

“Do you wanna come up?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, and it makes you laugh. You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs and into your apartment.

“Are the girls in?” he asks as you lock the front door.

“Minjeong is at karaoke with her school friends, and Yunjin and Chaewon are at a dinner party somewhere.”

“Minjeong karaokes?”

“Get enough G&Ts in her and she’ll do anything.”

You turn on a small lamp in your room and take off your jacket. Sunghoon has been in your apartment before, but never in your room—at some point, he’ll spend an hour observing every photograph and trinket in detail, asking you about every backstory, but right now, he’s got more important things to tend to. His heart beats uncontrollably as you shut the door to your room and walk towards him, eyes gazing deeply into his. The corners of your lips rise when you tug at the bottom of his sweatshirt, a clear indicator that you want it off. He wastes no time in obliging.

The air is buzzing with electricity when your lips find each other again. You’re both more confident this time around, and so the kiss is deeper, your touches bolder. Everything happens quickly—one second, you’re standing in the middle of your room; the next, you’re laying on your bed, Sunghoon underneath you. 

“You know,” he says between kisses, “I’d really planned on being a gentleman and not going up to your room after the first date…”

Your lips move from his lips to his jawline, warm and soft against his skin. Sunghoon closes his eyes and lets out a low hum of approval. “I’m glad you changed your mind,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck as you speak. “And since we’re onto confessions, I can finally say I’ve been wanting to do this since we met.”

This information sends his mind reeling. Not once had he been sure of how you felt about him — he even remembers you saying no to a kiss — and here you are, saying you’ve been wanting to kiss him since the beginning, just like he had. 

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

You pause your kisses to giggle, a sound so soft and intimate it has Sunghoon melting impossibly more. “You’re me?”

Unfortunately, he is too preoccupied by you to put a filter between the weird, half-formed thoughts in his brain and the words that leave his mouth. “Don’t question it,” he says, a smile audible in his voice, before moving his head and catching your lips. If he couldn’t stop himself from saying odd things, he could at least distract you from them.

Sunghoon thinks he’s doing a good job keeping himself together, until you roll your hips against his. It’s barely anything, but it sends waves of pleasure and anticipation through his body. His grip on your waist tightens, and when you repeat the motion, his hands sneakily find their way down your back and under your dress. Palms splayed against your ass, he brings you down closer to him. The second you moan into the kiss, he’s a goner. 

After that, it doesn’t take long for clothes to be discarded or for curious fingers to find the other’s waistbands. Your movements are hasty, messy—the tension that had built up over weeks of pining for you, after getting close to kissing you twice and thinking about it a hundred times more, it all comes crashing down in this moment, as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, as your hands pull at strands of his hair, as your bodies gently bump into each other. If someone asked Sunghoon right now how long he’d known you, he’d say years, not mere weeks. It couldn’t possibly be real that this much desire had accumulated inside of him — and inside of you, if your broken moans and rapid breathing are anything to go by — in just over a month. 

He only slows down when he has you naked and heaving underneath him, reminding himself to savor the moment instead of rushing it. His fingertips graze down your sides until they reach between your thighs, and he marvels at the way his touch makes you shiver. His eyes are so wide with amazement at the sight of you that he probably looks like he’s never seen a woman before, but he can’t help himself—he always thought you were beautiful, but this is something else entirely. 

His first touch is hesitant, a slow upward motion of his thumb between your folds as if quite literally testing the waters. But it has you arching your back and gripping his bicep, meeting his eyes to silently plead for more. Sunghoon takes that as his green light, thumb circling your clit as his lips continue their work on your neck, on your face, everywhere they can reach. He slips a finger inside of you, then a second one, and when he is satisfied with the state he’s gotten you in, all disheveled and gasping for air, he replaces his fingers with his dick, rock-hard just from seeing and hearing you.

He slowly inches forward until he’s bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “All good?” he whispers, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

“Never better,” you whisper back, smiling. You kiss him, and the tenderness of your lips on his, mixed with the feeling of being inside you, has Sunghoon’s heart constricting inside his chest. He starts rocking his hips back-and-forth into you, the side of his face is pressed up against yours, head light from the little oxygen the two of you share. It all feels oddly intimate for a first time, feels more like the kind of sex two people would have after years of knowing each other’s bodies. He moves like it’s second nature, thrusts deep and slow, trying to reach those spots that have your hands clawing at his back. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, using his free hand to push the hair that sticks to your face with sweat.

You wrap your legs higher around his hips, the shift in angle letting him go deeper. “Fuck, right there,” you say, voice strangled. Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice—he picks up his pace, and already within a minute, starts to feel himself reaching his limit. He tries to muffle his groans against your skin, but with the way your hold on him tightens and your moans go higher in pitch, you seem to be just as close as he is. When you do come undone around him, breath hitching in your throat before you release a heavy sigh, he has mere seconds left in him. A few thrusts later, his orgasm finally releases him from the tension that had been twisting his stomach into a knot for the past half-hour. You’re both spent, but he continues lazily rocking his hips against yours chasing the last remnants of pleasure, wanting to bask in it just a bit longer. He rolls onto his back after sliding out, wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.

His chest rises and falls as his breathing takes its time returning to normal. In a way, he’s almost relieved it’s over, like any longer would’ve actually taken too much of a toll on him. He likes the comfort he gets from having you in his arms as much as the sex itself. “I didn’t know it could feel this good,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. He needs more than a few minutes to get his head back on straight and start thinking before he speaks again. You chuckle airily, he chuckles too, and within seconds, you’re both laughing for seemingly no reason. The bliss of such an intense orgasm and the lack of oxygen must have gone to your brain, too.

“Me either,” you say once the laughter dies down. When your lips find his once more, Sunghoon forgets entirely about his exhaustion and feels like he could go for a second round. “Shower?” you ask right when he realizes how sticky and smelly he is.

“Yes, please.”

He can’t keep his hands off of you in the shower, rubbing soap on every square inch of your skin when you could do it perfectly fine yourself, kissing you even when you’ve both got foaming cleanser on your faces. The taste of soap in his mouth is worth the giggles he gets out of you.

Sunghoon reaches heaven when you drop to your knees in front of him, water rushing down his back as you take him in your mouth. He’s eager to return the favor, of course, thumb flicking your clit with a speed and dexterity even he didn’t know he was capable of. If you weren’t already in the shower, you’d have needed another one.

As soon as your bodies hit the mattress, you both drift off to sleep, limbs wrapping around each other as though they had been separated for too long and finally found each other again—not to let go again.

--

When Sunghoon wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize that he hadn’t dreamt up last night’s events. He reaches a hand out hesitantly, still half-asleep and scared that you’ll disappear into thin air at the touch of his fingertips. But no—he feels your skin, warm and soft, and he knows this is real.

You’re laying on your side, facing away from him, so he has to strain his neck to peek at your face. You look so peaceful as you sleep—he doesn’t want to wake you up, but he can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his torso against your back, humming contentedly to himself. He presses a soft, quiet kiss to the top of your head, just because he can.

Outside, clouds part, and a bright ray of sun shines through the window, landing right on your face. Sunghoon watches as you grumble and turn around, burying your face in his chest to avoid the blinding light, but the damage is done—you’re awake. He can tell from the drawled-out whine you let out and the way you grab tightly onto his waist, as if it was his fault the sun had decided to shine right on you. 

He lets you settle in a comfortable position. Stays still as you hike your leg over his legs, then slip it between them instead; as you press your cheek against his chest, then bury your nose in his neck; as you wrap your arm around his waist, then move it to thread your fingers through his hair, until you give up on falling back asleep altogether. “It’s so bright in here,” you mumble in lieu of a good-morning greeting.

You can’t see him, so Sunghoon smiles and tightens his grip around you—one arm circling your shoulders, the other, your waist. Skin to skin. “We forgot to close the blinds yesterday.”

“It’s okay,” you say, sighing. You press a kiss to the base of his neck, right between his collarbones, then lift your face to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

This is what it feels like to wake up next to her, Sunghoon thinks. He’d thought about it so many times: what you would look like first thing in the morning, what you’d say to him, what it’d feel like when your eyes met. If you’d be a slow sort of morning person, cuddling in bed with him until the very last possible second, or if you’d be up and about as soon as you woke up. If you’d be grumpy. If you’d want coffee. If you liked morning sex. 

It seems to be a recurring theme that Sunghoon’s imagination never quite lives up to reality. Your sleepy eyes boring into his, struggling to stay open, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck; your skin, so warm and so soft, your scent, so intoxicating he can barely think straight.

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

“I feel amazing, thank you so much for asking,” you say, burrowing yourself impossibly closer to him.

The two of you stay like this for a while, talking about your plans for the day and begrudging how little you want to go about them. Sunghoon wishes this could go on forever, but then his stomach growls so loudly, his face turns red from embarrassment. He hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. 

“You’re me,” you say, laughing, and Sunghoon can’t help but join in. “Is it crazy to have last night’s leftovers for breakfast?”

What Sunghoon hears is that you want him to stay; that you don’t want to part ways just yet.

“If by crazy you mean the best idea ever, then yes.”

“Amazing, because I’ve been thinking about that curry all night.”

“Really? I was thinking about something else,” he says, burrowing his face in your neck and leaving warm kisses there. 

You hum and lean into his touches, leaning into his touches. Chills run down his spine as your nails graze his sides. “There might’ve been other things occupying my mind, too.”

And just like that, breakfast is postponed to thirty minutes later.

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

His mind has never been so singularly taken up by sex in all of his life. It was already preoccupied with you most of the time, but now that it has more material to gnaw on, it’s practically started to eat away at him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen each other every day since, or that at every chance you get, you smile knowingly at him or try to get him to play footsies with you. Of course, he loves every bit of attention that he gets from you, but whenever he feels his heart get carried away, Minjeong’s words come back to him in a panic, and he remembers that he has no idea what it is that’s happening between you and him. You could be stringing him along, for all he knows, or you could be as into him as he is into you and just letting things happen. Unfortunately, just letting things happen was not something Sunghoon was good at—if things weren’t written black and white, he’d find a way to overthink even the littlest of details. Like how you’d kissed him for a good five minutes before letting him leave your apartment, otherwise known as the least platonic parting to exist, or conversely, like how you’d sometimes take hours to reply to texts.

If he was already a mumbling fool in front of you before, his condition has only worsened now. He tries his best to be normal and not make you or anyone in the group feel weird, but the fact is that you rocked his world and now he can’t look you in the eyes and not remember how it felt when you touched him or the sounds you made or the way you looked. It’s all playing in a loop in his mind and the only way he knows how to control it is by limiting his interactions with you, which doesn’t even work that well. 

The first couple days, you seem amused by his shyer-than-usual demeanor, but you quickly grow confused more than anything. Sunghoon won’t sit next to you, only speaks to you when necessary, doesn’t seek you out outside of a group setting. He tells himself he just needs some more time to be able to be around you casually again, but before that happens, one day at the library, you make a point to ask him if he’ll come help you get drinks for everyone from the dispenser machine. He knows it’d be too odd to say no, so he follows you.

He presses the buttons for everyone’s order (a Sprite for him, Diet Cokes for the girls, a Red Bull for Jake who has a midterm tomorrow and nothing for Jay who only swears by his disgusting herbal infusion) as you lean against the machine, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him.

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

“So…” he starts although he has no idea what to say—he hopes something will just appear in his mind and that it’ll alleviate the tension. However, you seem to have other plans.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?” you say, taking him aback. When he glances at you, you don’t seem angry—just genuinely confused. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I haven’t!”

“Sunghoon,” you say sternly. He gives in right away.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just-I didn’t know what to do. After we, you know…”

“After we had sex?” you say, then burst into laughter when he looks around the room to make sure no one’s heard. His cheeks heat up.

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

He pays for the drinks and picks them up. When he looks at you again, your smile has completely died down, and worry has settled into your features. “Do you regret it?” you ask, voice now as low as his. As if it hurts to say the words too loud.

Panic overcomes him, and he almost drops half of the drinks as he shakes his head. “No, of course not! I’m really sorry, Y/N, I never meant to be weird about it, I was just trying to wrap my head around everything, and I just… Well, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

You nod, taking his words in. “That’s fine. I get it. I just wanted to say, you know, it doesn’t have to change anything. We can still be friends and all. Like you said, it shouldn’t make things weird.”

Sunghoon’s stomach drops. He knows you’re trying to make him feel better, but you’ve inadvertently said the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. He doesn’t want things to stay the same, or for you to stay friends. For him, things can’t go back to normal after that night — whatever normal means for the two of you — and he was foolishly hoping that you felt the same.

But clearly, you want to let the whole thing die and pretend like it never happened. And whether it’s a good thing or not, his feelings for you have grown so much, he’ll just let you lead him anywhere. Even if that turns out to be nowhere. 

So he conjures up the most convincing smile he can, hands you half of the drinks to carry, and says, “Yeah, sounds good.”

--

After that conversation, Sunghoon doesn’t think anything else will happen between the two of you. You had sex, you talked it out, and that’s the end of it. But then, it turns out that both of your last midterms are at the same time, in the same building, so you invite him to celebrate with pork belly and some drinks. Sunghoon is finishing his second beer when he starts to feel like he’s on that date again, laughing for no reason, butterflies in his stomach every time his gaze catches yours. You lean on your hand as you listen to him talk about a stupid memory from his childhood and he thinks he’s never seen anyone as pretty as you. 

The sun has long set when you say, “You know, it’s Wednesday today.”

He’s not sure what you’re trying to get at. “Yeah?”

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

With these simple words, all the images of you that Sunghoon had finally managed to banish from his mind come flooding back, and he is not even surprised to find himself half-naked in your bed thirty minutes later. So much for staying friends—one time is one thing, but Sunghoon knows he’ll never be normal again after a second time with you.

It’s not a long time before he finds himself in your room again. Every item of clothing between the two of you is gradually discarded while you kiss, lips growing more impatient with every inch of bare skin uncovered. He reluctantly lets you go when you suddenly giggle and say that you really need to pee, watching as you grab his t-shirt off the floor and put it on, just in case Minjeong comes home. You wear it like it’s yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world that you’d be wearing his clothes. An indescribable feeling washes over Sunghoon at the sight, so intense he feels tears welling behind his eyes. Like something he’s been yearning for is finally at the grasp of his fingers; like it might slip away at any moment. 

His feelings must’ve transpired in the way he was looking at you—when you meet his eyes, your expression shifts slightly, and you quickly slip out of your room. He tells himself to reel it in. Get it together, he thinks. Or you’ll drive her away. 

A wave of tiredness hits him in the minute that you’re gone, probably due to all that soju and beer. “I’m back,” you whisper, but he doesn’t move, only opens his arms wide for you to get back into bed with him. It’s like a weight is lifted off his heart when he feels you against him again. You’re back. Your face is fresh, as if you’d splashed it with cold water, but when he slips one of his hands underneath your (his) t-shirt, your skin is still just as warm as before. Far from the fuzzy, tingly feeling he had gotten when you’d woken up together the other morning, now, he feels his desire for you deep in the pit of his stomach. The kind of hunger food couldn’t satisfy. “I missed you,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly. He reacts immediately when you squirm against him, tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you to him.

“I was gone two minutes.”

“I mean these past few days. I was starting to think I’d dreamt you up.” His hand on your lower back sneaks its way up between your bodies until it finds your breasts, cupping one of them with his palm before taking your nipple between his thumb and index, gently twisting. It pulls a half-gasp, half-moan from your throat, and the sound goes straight to his dick. “But you’re real, aren’t you?” 

“Very real,” you reply, a tremor in your voice. He’s barely touching you, and you’re already having trouble breathing. Sunghoon smiles at the idea of him having as much of a hold on you as you do on him.

“Good,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. In one quick sweep, he pushes you down so your back is against the mattress, resting his palms on each side of your head.

He’s inside you within mere minutes. He’d wanted to hold back a bit, but you whispering Just put it in after thirty seconds of his fingers loosening you up was enough to convince him. His mind is already fuzzy with remnants of alcohol, and his overwhelming desire for you only makes matters worse. He barely has any control over his movements, rushed and sloppy, but as he drives himself deeper into you, your moans increase in volume. He only later realizes how tight his grip on your hips is when he sees two small bruises forming on the skin there. 

He comes quickly, probably embarrassingly so, but he can’t bring himself to care—he’s got other things on his mind. He’s not even bothered to discard the condom as he makes his way down your body, lips around your clit before you’ve even had the time to register what was happening. You cry out, a sound that Sunghoon works to pry out of you over and over again. Even when your thighs start shaking and you squirm away from him, he doesn’t relent. He’s just as desperate to make you feel good as he was desperate chasing his own pleasure earlier. He hooks his arms around your thighs, bringing you down to him and ensuring that you can’t get away. One hand still in his hair, the other clutching the bed sheets, you’ve turned your face sideways into the pillow so that your moans come out muffled. He is only satisfied when you’ve reached your second orgasm. 

As your breath slowly returns to normal, Sunghoon makes his way back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You clear your throat of its dryness and burst into soft, quiet laughter. “What’s funny?” Sunghoon murmurs, lips against your neck. 

“Nothing,” you say, still laughing. “That was just really, really nice.”

Sunghoon smiles. “I’m glad,” he says before kissing you, lips moving slowly against yours.

As he lays against you, the top of his head under your chin and your fingernails grazing along his back, a weird feeling overcomes him. Sunghoon is usually a pine-from-afar sort of guy, with at least five instances of hanging out that could or could not be a date before making things any sort of official. The pining has been a constant with all of his crushes. He’s gotten to the hanging out stage a couple of times, but the officialising has only happened once. Despite its low success rate, it’s a cycle Sunghoon feels comfortable with, and he’d imagined the rest of his romantic encounters would follow that pattern. 

But this is completely different. Of the three times you guys have met separately from your friend group, already two times have included sex. This isn’t a stage Sunghoon usually reaches before at least a few months and it disorientates him. What does it mean? That you like him so much, you decided to skip all of the steps and jump straight into the thick of it? He is reasonable enough not to delude himself into such a thought. He likes you a lot—that much he can be sure of. He’s liked you since the moment he laid eyes on you, even if the reason eludes him. Something in the way you smiled at him, the way you took him in stride as if you’d known him forever. When he thinks back to that party, he can’t believe it started out as the two of you being strangers. Even now, feeling your warm skin against his, it feels like a lie that just two months ago he hadn’t even met you. 

What he can’t say with total certainty is that you like him the same amount. Or that you like him any amount, really, although in his naivety he doesn’t understand how anyone could be this intimate with another person without liking them at least a little bit. And he doesn’t just mean the sex. He means this. The silently laying in each other’s arms, the soft kisses, the caresses wherever hands can reach. Eating post-sex snacks together, laughing as you watch the first episode of each other’s favorite sitcoms (Brooklyn Nine-Nine for him, Pen15, oddly enough, for you). Falling asleep together, cuddling the entire night then waking up and diving right back into each other’s embrace. 

After an entire day spent in rumination, Sunghoon’s still not sure what to make of it all.

All he knows is that when he DMs you that night, asking you how your day went, he goes through every emotion between anxiety, self-hatred and indifference in the five minutes that separate his text from your reply. He’s never been so happy to hear that someone couldn’t concentrate in class because of him.

--

Sunghoon has always been obsessed with the way couples stand together in public. 

Every time, it takes everything in him not to stare, because he wants to take in every little thing they do. He has that practically everywhere he goes, wanting to stare at people just to see what their deal is, but he is never quite as simultaneously fascinated and envious as when he spots a couple. But he knows staring isn’t the socially appropriate thing to do, so he either steals glances or watches for a little bit then pretends they aren’t there. He can’t help himself—even if they aren’t holding hands or obnoxiously making out in public, it’s still visible to anyone with eyes that there is something tying these people together. It’s in the way they stand near each other, their bodies turned inwardly, as though enveloped by a bubble containing just the two of them and no one else; in the way they look at each other, their eyes never straying from the other’s face as they talk, intimacy showing itself even in a loud, crowded room. Sunghoon craves to find that proximity, to be able to touch and be touched so softly, every graze of a hand purposeful and unconscious at the same time.

It’s the first of November already. The Weather app, as it tends to do, has deceived you; so instead of a walk on what was supposed to be a sunny day, you find yourselves in a busy café near the University, the air outside too chilly even with your scarves and gloves. You’re waiting for your order at the end of the counter — a mocha for him, an oat flat white for you — when he notices it. Your body is fully facing him, you’re distractedly playing with the hem of his sweatshirt, and you’re not looking at anything but him as you rant about that annoying classmate of yours that goes by a self-made nickname and always talks over the tutor. In this light, the two of you are like the couples he’s always longed to be—the simple thought makes him want to cry. As more and more often is the case these days, you have no idea what you’re doing to him.

It’s been around two months since you first met and in that time, although Sunghoon is lucky not to have enough fingers to count the number of times you have seen each other one-on-one, not much has happened. Minjeong, who had understood what was going on the first time she saw the two of you eating leftovers from the Japanese restaurant on the couch at 10 a.m., has grown accustomed to his presence in the apartment and even sometimes sits down to watch a movie with the two of you—a movie that Chaewon would usually have forced you to watch in the living room instead of the privacy of your bedroom, so that everyone could join. Sunghoon is just glad Minjeong has stopped silently scolding him with her eyes every time he comes out of your room. She never mentions that night when she essentially warned him against you after the party. 

Jake seems to be the only oblivious one in your group. Yunjin and Chaewon have eyes like hawks and horrifyingly vivid imaginations when they put their heads together, so they were probably already making plans for your wedding and fighting for the title of godmother when you and Sunghoon met at the beginning-of-semester party. They cornered him once at a party and forced him to spill the beans and spare no detail, because you apparently were “denying everything, but we know there’s something going on.” Jay is still Sunghoon’s go-to person when he needs advice concerning you, although the older boy doesn’t understand why it has to be so complicated and always tells him to “just tell her how you feel,” which Sunghoon will not do unless there is a gun to his head. But Jake just seems happy to see his friend and his sister get along this well—no matter how many times you wear his jacket at their games or disappear at the same time at the end of parties, he doesn’t grow suspicious. If he does, he doesn’t mention it to Sunghoon, at least.

Between the two of you, not a word is spoken about the nature of your relationship, which remains unbearingly undefined. For a while, he weakly convinces himself that he doesn’t need to have that conversation with you. He’s young, he’s free, he should be able to enjoy casual sex without putting a label on it. The main problem, though, was that the sex could not be further from casual, at the very least not to Sunghoon.

He has never known anything quite like it. In mere weeks, you’ve both mastered the art of pleasuring each other. He understands your body like it’s his, knows what each of the sounds and expressions you make means. He knows where to touch you to have a kiss go from light-hearted to dizzyingly intense, how to move his mouth to have you arching your back and holding onto him for dear life. And you—he thinks your skin must be laced with cocaine, the way he can never get enough of it. 

But it’s always the moments afterwards that get him in his head. To him, casual sex means getting dressed the minute it’s over and going off to do other things, which is the absolute opposite of what you do. Whether it’s falling asleep together or spending Sundays in bed, you always stay together afterwards, curled up in each other’s arms as you talk away the hours, conversations interspersed with slow, lazy kisses. He’ll say things like, “You’re so pretty,” or “Why do you smell so good?” because he’s so smitten with you that he can never stop himself from uttering every compliment that flashes through his brain, but the things he really wants to say are harder to speak out loud. Even just a What are we?—three simple words that he can’t bring himself to ask, too scared it’ll ruin everything. 

Arguably worse is that sex isn’t even a requirement for when you and Sunghoon see each other. He goes on walks with you whenever you’ve spent too much time in the library and need some fresh air. You go shopping with him when his department throws a fundraiser and he needs a formal outfit. He cooks you your favorite meal when your period is particularly nasty. You sneak into the ice rink after his practice and let him ‘teach’ you how to skate, even though you already learned how with Jake when you were kids. Even mundane moments become fun when spent with you, and you share so many hobbies and interests that you never run out of things to do or talk about.

And yet, it feels like one step forward, two steps back with you—if you let him close one night, you’ll run away the next. A week will pass without you seeing each other outside of the library or group hang-outs, and if Sunghoon asks you out, you’ll say no, usually blaming the amount of work you have. He gets it—due to the nature of your degree and your being a fourth-year student, your workload is much heavier than his, with essays, translations and oral presentations due every other week. And that’s not even including midterms and finals. But still, he doesn’t see why you would need to stay at the library for ten hours straight for days on end. He’d start worrying about your health if you didn’t at least relax on weekends. 

So while Sunghoon wants nothing more than to go all in with you, he senses you holding back. He notices you avoiding eye contact during particularly intimate moments, and when you look at him perhaps too fondly for your liking, you quickly catch yourself and resume your neutral, sometimes almost cold expression. When he tries to broach more personal, sensitive topics, you always find a way to change the subject or turn the conversation towards him before you get too deep. 

As time passes, and especially as exam season nears, he can tell there’s something that you’re not telling him about. His suspicions are confirmed when you come back from a weekend at your parents’ house. He’s also been away for an out-of-town hockey game, and because he hasn’t had much time to text you (and because their team won, so he wants to show off a little), he’s particularly looking forward to seeing you again that Monday. It’s only been three days since you’ve last seen each other, but he misses you like crazy. 

But the minute you’re back, you bury yourself in work like never before, often waking up at ungodly hours and staying at the library until midnight. More than once, he stays behind with you, long after the others have gone, reminding you gently every hour that it might be time to go home and get some rest. The moments you actually agree are few and far between, and although he sticks it out at first, sleeping with his head on the table until you tell him you’re ready to go, your stubbornness soon starts frustrating him, and he ends up leaving when he gets too tired. He knows this is important to you, but he doesn’t understand why you have to go to these lengths—you’d still easily be one of the best students in your class without all this exertion. And despite his many attempts, you won’t tell him what’s wrong, won’t even admit that something is wrong—you keep repeating that “it’s just what exam season is like.”

When he asks your friends about it, they seem just as confused as he is. One evening when you have plans to order some food and watch a movie at your apartment, he shows up at the agreed time, but you’re nowhere to be found. Thankfully, the girls are there to let him up and not leave him standing outside in the rain. You don’t pick up when he calls you and call him back a minute later, apologizing profusely but still saying that there’s something you really need to finish first. If it was only a one-time thing, it wouldn’t make him as angry as it does—but this has been going on for almost two weeks now, and Sunghoon is close to boiling point. 

The fact that it’s been months since your date at the Japanese restaurant, and the only thing that you’ve said about what was happening between you and Sunghoon “didn’t have to change anything.” The fact that you’re essentially each other’s boyfriend and girlfriend without the label or the reassurance that comes with it. The fact that there’s something clearly bothering you but that you won’t tell him about it. The fact that this something is effectively coming between the two of you. Sunghoon was originally more worried about you than anything—now that studying has taken obvious precedence over him in your list of priorities, he’d be lying if he said his ego wasn’t wounded. He isn’t asking to be the number one most important thing in your life, and he knew before even meeting you that high academic performance meant a lot to you, but he likes to think he deserves at least a little bit of your time and attention. 

Except, does he really? It’s not like you’re actually dating.

There’s a pang in his heart as he remembers this fact that he should never have forgotten in the first place. It hurts—and so perhaps, he’s less patient than he ought to be.

“Whatever, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, just let me know when you have time for something other than getting As.”

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

“She still at the library?” Chaewon asks, tone delicate as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal. Sunghoon nods, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. 

“She always studies a lot,” Minjeong starts, “but this is something else.”

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

The girls nod. “Even Jake has talked to her, but she won’t listen. And he usually always gets to her,” Minjeong says. 

He goes home soon afterwards and spends the rest of his evening in rumination, torn between his worry and his anger towards you—emotions which only increase as more days pass, and he sees less and less of you. Your behavior was already concerning while preparing for your exams and final assignments, it gets even worse when exams actually do start. He doesn’t hear from you for an entire week, and the one time you miraculously agree to a short group hang-out in the form of getting coffee, you’re only half there, physically present but mind far, far away. You barely react when the guys tell you about their victory at the latest hockey game—which you didn’t attend, as well as any other game recently. 

No matter how much he tries to put it out of his mind, to focus on his own exams and hockey games, you stay at the forefront of his thoughts. The hockey team is away for another out-of-town game when he decides to broach the subject with Jake, with whom he’s sharing a room. The entire semester, he’s been careful not to raise Jake’s suspicions about the two of you, both out of consideration for you, who’d mentioned you didn’t want your brother to know what was going on, and for himself, who would also rather Jake not know, at least not until your relationship became official. Which it never did. But now that all he gets from you is radio silence at a time when you’d usually be an hour into a FaceTime call, he can’t help himself.

Jake is just coming out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, when Sunghoon takes his shot in the dark. “Have you heard from Y/N recently?” he asks as nonchalantly as he can, pretending to not be avidly waiting for his friend’s reaction by keeping his eyes on his phone.

“Y/N?” Jake echoes. “No, not really. Why?”

“Just ‘cause I haven’t seen her around much. I’m wondering if everything’s okay.”

“You mean her staying at the library all day?” Sunghoon nods; Jake sighs. “Yeah, she’ll snap out of it soon enough. She gets somewhat like this every time exams come around, but even I have to admit it’s pretty tough this time around. The last time I saw her like this was way back in high school, and that’s because our parents were watching right over her shoulder. It’s been better in university thanks to the distance.”

“So this has to do with your parents?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. She’s always wanted to do well at school, but she only gets this obsessive when our parents are involved.”

“I guess this did start after that weekend when she went home…” Sunghoon muses absent-mindedly. It could’ve passed off as an off-hand remark, but Jake pauses in his movements and looks at him warily.

“Yeah, she did… You noticed that, huh?”

Sunghoon pauses. This whole time, he was sure Jake was oblivious to anything happening between you and him—but he might have underestimated his friend. Like brother, like sister; he can hardly read either of you when he really needs to. Jake might genuinely be surprised that Sunghoon remembered your whereabouts that weekend, or he’s onto him. “I guess I did,” he finally says, going for as noncommittal an answer as he can.

Jake says nothing for a bit, and Sunghoon thinks he’s managed to get through the conversation without raising too much suspicion—until a minute later, when Jake speaks again. “Do you… like Y/N?”

Sunghoon freezes, snapping his head towards Jake, who’s lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His first instinct is to deny, but there’s no point pretending anymore. It’s one thing keeping it from Jake—lying to him about it is something else entirely. It’s an uncomfortable conversation, but it must be had. “Yeah, I do,” Sunghoon replies, guilt clear in his voice, more because he’s only now admitting it to Jake than because of his feelings themselves.

A shaky breath comes out of Jake’s mouth, as if this was the exact answer he had dreaded. “Right, okay. Since when?”

“Since I met her, basically.”

Jake’s head whips towards Sunghoon, and their gazes meet awkwardly. “Since that party in September?” he asks, shock written all over his face. Sunghoon nods, and to his surprise, Jake bursts out laughing. “Don’t tell me it’s because you accidentally matched costumes?”

Sunghoon looks away, frowning. “That might’ve helped things along,” he mumbles, embarrassment washing over him as Jake’s laughter intensifies. At least he was taking it well—a bit too well, perhaps.

“You’re so predictable, man,” Jake says when he’s calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“How did you know, anyway?”

“You’ve been pretty obvious with it recently,” Jake replies after a few seconds. “I could tell you were a bit shy around her at first, and when it got better I just thought you’d become friends or something. But when she showed up with your jacket at every game and you never left her side at parties, I assumed something else was going on. You’ve always been staying behind at the library these days, and I know you don’t have that much work.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I guess I haven’t been trying hard to hide it lately.”

“Yeah, why would you hide it in the first place? You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

Jake frowns. “It wouldn’t have been weird. If anything, hiding it makes it weirder.”

“I just thought, if one of my friends had a crush on my sister, I’d probably rather they hid it. Like, I don’t need to know about that,” Sunghoon says, and it makes Jake laugh.

“Dude, Y/N and I are only a year apart. Do you know how many guys have come up to me asking me for her number or advice on how to ask her out? It’s been, like, one every few months since middle school. Guys here especially have no shame telling me how hot they find her.”

Sunghoon makes a face. He doesn’t disagree, but he’d never go out of his way to tell your brother how exquisite you looked in certain outfits. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, it is. But you’re my friend, not some greasy rando, so I trust you. If anything, I’d probably have to tell her to be nice to you, and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, you could say that again,” Sunghoon grumbles, then realizes his mistake immediately, eyes widening.

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, sounding genuine at first, but when Sunghoon stays quiet for a couple seconds, debating whether he should just lay the truth bare, Jake sits up on the bed and repeats his question, his tone much warier this time around. Sunghoon glances at him then looks away guiltily.

“Well, to be completely honest… We’ve sort of been seeing each other, kind of. But it’s complicated.”

Jake flops back down on his mattress with a grunt. “Who else knows?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes with his hands as if suddenly very exhausted.

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

“Well, Jay, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon.”

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

“Since October,” Sunghoon mumbles, feeling guiltier than ever. He’s belatedly realizing that it would’ve been much easier to have everything out in the open from the get-go, both with you and with Jake; now he’s both stuck in situationship limbo and has to face the consequences of keeping something this important from one of his closest friends. “Are you upset?” Sunghoon asks, feeling a bit like a ten-year-old.

“Kinda, yeah, but more at her than at you. I’ve told her not to go after anyone from the hockey team.”

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

“Yeah. God, that was messy. He gave her mixed signals for so long, I could barely talk to him without thinking of her crying for so long. And now he’s the one who can’t quite look me in the eye,” Jake says, shaking his head at the mere thought of his captain.

“Was it that bad? She made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Really? It upset her for a while though,” he says, then turns his head to look at the ceiling again. “I guess that’s not so surprising of her. She sometimes likes pretending she doesn’t have any emotions, even though I’m pretty sure she has more than most people.”

“Huh.” That would explain some things, Sunghoon muses. Emotions are not a topic that comes up very often with you, and every time he’s gotten an inkling of them, you seem to shut it all down immediately.

“But you know, I’m more surprised than anything. About… about it all, really. Not just that you’re only telling me now, but that it’s lasted this long. She must really like you.”

“You think?” Sunghoon says, his face brightening with hope, the words slipping from him before he can stop them once again. He shrinks when Jake laughs at him.

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“But yeah, dude. I’ve told you about this. I’ve never seen her in a relationship, ever. Says she doesn’t have the time,” Jake says, air-quoting you. “I’ve only had the displeasure of seeing her go home with one-night-stands. You know that since she started college, she’s had a rule that she’d only see someone three times and that was it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, so she wouldn’t catch feelings. I’m telling you, she’s crazy. So you must be special.”

Sunghoon can’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips—special. But it doesn’t make him feel that much better, either. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, so I’m not sure how special I can be…”

Jake’s head turns to look at Sunghoon again, but the younger boy keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling fan above him. “What’s happening between you guys?”

A blush creeps on Sunghoon’s cheeks. “Is this something you really want to talk about?”

“Well, spare me the gruesome details, please,” Jake says, chuckling, “but yeah, I would like to know what’s going on with my best friend and my sister.”

“I’m your best friend?” Sunghoon says, grinning as he meets Jake’s gaze, who rolls his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “Well, I didn’t think it would happen more than once-”

“What would happen more than once?”

Sunghoon pauses. “Well, you know…” Jake gives him a look as if to say, Well, no, I don’t know, so Sunghoon is forced to go on: “Sleeping together.”

“You guys slept together?!” Jake exclaims, sitting up on his bed once again.

“Yeah, what did you think?”

“I don’t know, just that you were going on dates, hanging out one-on-one, or whatever…”

“Well, we were.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Jake says, waving his hand in front of his face like swatting a fly away. “So, not just once, then?”

“No. And I thought it’d be a one-time thing, ‘cause a few days afterwards she said something about it not having to change our friendship…”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. But then it did. Happen again, I mean. And it’s been happening frequently since. But we’re not… dating dating. We haven’t had that conversation.”

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

Sunghoon releases a shaky breath. Why not, indeed. “‘Cause she hasn’t mentioned it. And I’m too scared to do it.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The typical stuff. What we have now… it’s not what I want, but it’s managed to not disrupt the group, you know. I’m scared that if I tell her how I feel, it’ll make things awkward between the two of us, and between all of us by extension.”

“Well, it might,” Jake says after thinking for a few seconds. “I wish I could tell you with certainty that she’ll like you back, but I honestly can’t. As obvious as you were towards her, she was not giving anything away.” Sunghoon chuckles, more out of self-deprecation than anything. This was not the pep talk he had hoped for. “But, I can tell you that she won’t be the type to make things awkward. You have nothing to risk by telling her, because in the long run, you’ll be better off that way. I know you, Sunghoon. You’ll be miserable if you can’t be fully yourself with someone.”

Decidedly, Sunghoon’s friends had a way of telling him the exact opposite of the things he wanted to hear while being completely right. He wishes things with you could stay the same — minus the overworking yourself and ignoring him in the process — and that he wouldn’t have to do anything that might make them change. But just as Jake said, he’d also reach a point where he couldn’t take it anymore—a point he was already inching closer and closer to with every passing day. He likes you enough to let you not define the relationship, but he likes you too much to let it go on. He likes you too much to not be able to tell you, and show you, and remind you of it every day. He hated having to hold back, and he hated feeling you holding back. He wanted to give you his all and he wanted all of you, too, not just bite-sized portions of you.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her lately, but I’ll have to tell her soon enough. When her exams are over, I guess.”

Jake sighs. “Yeah. I don’t know if there’s any getting through to her right now.”

“She’s blown me off so many times! I don’t know what she’s doing, spending so many hours in that library. I’d go insane.”

“She’s a perfectionist,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I’ve talked to her about it. When it comes to school, she needs everything to be as flawless as can be. She spends hours re-reading and editing her work. It’s not good.”

“Not really, no.”

“But she’s only got a week left. I’ll try to convince her not to go home for too long, and it’ll be better after the holidays. Then we’ll make sure there’s not a repeat of this next exam season.”

He thinks of Christmas break and of not seeing you for two weeks; of next semester and going through all of this with you a second time. The uncertainty, the fooling around behind your friends’ backs — although that might not be needed now that Jake is in on it too — Sunghoon’s not sure if he can go through it all again. “Yeah, we will.”

--

They lose their game the following day. They had an amazing run, either winning or tying every game so far; this loss is not enough to make them drop significantly in the rankings, but it’s enough to demoralize Sunghoon. It couldn’t have come at a worse time—between you and this failed game, his self-esteem is taking a real hit.

He dared hope for some comfort from you once he was back, but in vain. He doesn’t know why he imagined your attitude might’ve changed overnight, and when he texts you asking to hang out, the same old sorry I can’t atm fills his phone screen. And just like that, as strong as his feelings for you have been all this time, so is his resentment—unwarranted, perhaps, but he thinks he deserves better than this, and he’s both angry at you for not giving him anything and at himself for letting it happen.

Now, he’s the one who spends hours working himself to the bone in the ice rink, who’s clearly preoccupied with other things when everyone gets together, and who doesn’t even show up to the party the whole group goes to when you’re all done with exams. The last game before winter break is in two days, and he doesn’t want to waste a day nursing a hangover when he could be practicing.

That night, he thinks everyone is out at some random club downtown, so he does a double-take when it’s past eleven p.m. and you show up at the rink. He’s skating laps, practicing his speed and his goal-shooting, only noticing you when you’re standing in the middle of the rink. He almost skates right into you.

“Y/N?” he asks, not completely sure you’re not just a figment of his imagination. He’s so exhausted, he wouldn’t be surprised if he were dreaming you up.

“Jay texted me.”

“Oh. Why?” He’s out of breath, and the words come out blunter than he intends them to.

“Because it’s almost midnight and you’re still here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, but your eyebrows are furrowed in what looks like worry. It’s the first time Sunghoon’s seeing you concerned over something other than an assignment. 

He shrugs and resumes his laps, slower this time, forcing you to keep turning on your feet. “I’m practicing. There’s a big game coming up.”

“Which is exactly why you should be resting, like everyone else on your team right now.”

He resists rolling his eyes. “Why would I rest when I could be getting better?”

“Because you need rest as much as you need practice. You won’t be any use on the rink if you’re too tired to play properly.”

“And I won’t be any use if I can’t shoot properly, either.”

“Sunghoon, you need a break. You’re clearly exhausted-Will you stop it?” you suddenly snap. “I’m trying to talk to you, and I’m getting dizzy.” 

Your small outburst only has him growing more agitated, and even though he does stop, it’s more so you can see the annoyance on his face than anything. “You know, this is a bit rich coming from you, Y/N.” He knows this is not the right time to bring this up—if he has grievances against you, he shouldn’t be bringing them up when he’s already frustrated. He’s well aware of this, but he can’t help himself.

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who spends twelve hours a day in the library during exams and does not budge even if I tell you you should go home.”

“That’s different-”

“How is it any different?” he interrupts, voice rising. “You don’t listen to me when you overwork yourself. I don’t see why I should.”

“So you realize that you’re overworking yourself?”

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

“Y/N, please. I have to win as much as you have to get the top grades. Is it actually necessary? No, but you know how shit it feels not to.”

“And it’s exactly because I know that feeling that I’m telling you to stop. You’re just feeding into it.”

“So are you, staying until 2 a.m. in the library. You’ve never once gone home when I asked you to.”

“Again, that’s different-”

“How?! How is it different? Please enlighten me, ‘cause they’re the exact same thing to me.”

You sigh. A sudden sadness appears on your face. Sunghoon is torn between wanting to see this to its end and taking everything he’s said back. But he keeps quiet, and your eyes, when they meet his again, harden. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

As if you couldn’t say your next words while looking at him, you tear your gaze away from his face. “Because I’m actually concerned about you, here. The only reason you want me to stop and go home is so we can fuck.”

Sunghoon is so astounded that all words fail him—he stares at you, mouth wide open like you just shot him. After a few seconds, all he’s able to come up with is an incredulous, “What?” His voice is a mere whisper. 

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

He closes his mouth and swallows. “So… you’re the one who’s worried, and I’m only after sex?”

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

A chuckle escapes Sunghoon’s throat, then another, until laughter spills out of him uncontrollably. He feels like the world is upside down. How could you have lived the same thing and come out of it with such different perspectives? Your account of his intentions with you is so ridiculous and unfathomable to him that he can’t do anything but laugh.

You seem taken aback at first, but your surprise quickly turns into annoyance. “Something funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” he says, holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All he finds at the end of his amusement is anger, bright red and hot. It’s not an emotion he feels often, its rarity only serving as an intensifier—he starts making his way out of the rink before it can explode and hit you in its wake. “Well, that’s convinced me to call it a day. So you got what you came for, I guess.”

His fingers tremble as he undoes the laces on his skates and puts his sneakers on again. You stand by the door of the rink, holding onto the frame as you look at him, that same sad look still on your face. “Hoon,” you say, voice weak. What would usually have him melting only has his anger flare harder.

“Don’t. For the first time ever, I actually really don’t want to talk to you right now.” He stands up, gives you one last harsh look, and turns away. He only halts right before exiting the bleacher area, and after a couple seconds of thinking, turns back around. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I want to fuck again. Since that’s all this is, clearly.”

--

It seemed to you no one thought you were good enough for Sunghoon.

Only Yunjin and Chaewon seemed excited at the prospect of the two of you getting together, or at least getting to know each other, but they were also the type to coo at dogs in the street and tear up at the sight of old people holding hands; Minjeong was apprehensive from the start, and made it clear; Jay was indifferent; Jake was oblivious for a while. Sunghoon was…

What was Sunghoon?

Someone who had come out of nowhere, shaken up your routine and messed with your head. That’s what Sunghoon was. He didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest.

Maybe it was your fault for not opening up to the people closest to you and letting them think you were some kind of no-strings-attached one-night-stands-only emotionless maneater who had been single for as long as they had known her, who would be seen with someone new every few months, and never for long, who, as far as the eye could tell, only used men for sex. Maybe it was their fault for never trying to dig deeper.

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

Based on your conversations with your friends, they thought Heeseung had broken your heart, and you had never bounced back properly. He’d hurt you so much, you couldn’t fathom a real relationship anymore—you could only be with someone casually. Which wasn’t so far from the truth, but what Heeseung had done was much worse than just breaking your heart. He’d confirmed what you already knew of yourself: you want too much. You want what you can’t have, what you don’t deserve.

From the moment you met Park Sunghoon, you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. Minjeong seemed to agree, and when she saw you and him together at choir that Saturday in September, three months ago already, she made sure you knew her thoughts on the matter.

“This is so… unlike you,” was the first thing she’d said after she pulled you aside. 

“What is?”

“This,” she repeated, waving her arms around. “Being here. Coming with him.” She pointed at Sunghoon, whose hair was being ruffled by one grandma and his cheek pulled by another. He kept glancing back worriedly at you—you liked him so much already. “See? You’re smiling at him,” she said, making you realize a sappy smile had started growing on your lips at the sight of him. Your face dropped and you scoffed at the disgust in her voice.

“Yeah, some of us like to smile. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Y/N, you know what I’m trying to say.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

She sighed. “You don’t do this. You don’t meet a guy and show up to his choir practice the next morning. What’s happening?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Had you known your presence would be questioned like that, you might’ve thought twice about coming. “Can’t a girl enjoy a choir without getting interrogated these days?”

“You’re avoiding my question! Listen, Y/N. Sunghoon is not the kind of guy you usually go for. He’s-Stop. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“If you like Sunghoon, you can just tell me. You know I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go after a guy my best friend likes.”

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

Minjeong shook her head violently and put her hands on your shoulders, staring into your brain as if trying to make you see some sense. Calmly, she said, “No, I don’t. Sunghoon’s nice, but he is so far from my type. He’s too… nice.”

“You mean he doesn’t wear leather jackets or ride a motorcycle?”

“That was once. But no, he doesn’t do that. And what I’m trying to tell you is that he’s not your type either.”

“And how have you gathered that?”

“Because so far, you’ve only wisely chosen guys who are as detached and emotionally stunted as you.”

“I’m not-”

“But he’s not like that, Y/N. He’s the bring-home-to-your-parents-for-Christmas type. Not the hump-and-dump type.”

“I’m starting to get offended by this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go breaking his heart. Or yours, for that matter. It pains me to say but I care about both of you very much and I don’t see this going anywhere good.”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was her opinion of your romantic tendencies — or lack thereof — that bad that she couldn’t even recommend you to her friend? You felt like a chastised child whose mom told you you couldn’t get the toy you wanted. Despite being well aware that you weren’t the most committed when it came to relationships, you still felt like she was going overboard. Just because nothing had stuck so far didn’t mean it wouldn’t now—she was acting like you went around playing with people’s feelings for fun.

“Jesus, this is my second time seeing him. I just wanna see what his deal is. I’m not breaking anyone’s heart, okay?” 

The choir conductor had called out for everyone to gather on stage then, and that was the end of that conversation. You still remember how funny of a thing it was, seeing Sunghoon in his nice shirt and trousers, his hair falling into his eyes, singing diligently with the choir, when just the night before he had been playing beer pong dressed as Cowboy Ken. In this new light, you understood why Minjeong was so adamant about him not being your usual type, and why the grandmas were fussing over him. You hadn’t known what had pushed you to invite yourself to this rehearsal, and even then as you sat there, you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you couldn’t stop smiling as you watched Sunghoon sing. 

Time made things clearer, starting with that afternoon at the beach. The salt in the air that day had clouded your thoughts, covered them with a thin layer so that your usual reluctance to share anything remotely personal had dimmed. Or maybe it had had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the boy sitting next to you on the sand, the way words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think about them and were only met with understanding and empathy on his part. For once, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself, to adapt your words and actions to the person in front of you. It was something you didn’t know was possible with a near stranger—perhaps because Sunghoon felt nothing like one.

He made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time; things you had been craving to feel, needed almost as much as oxygen. Being with him felt like breathing again. But you had been underwater so long, being on land again felt foreign, scary, and you couldn’t help but dive back into safe waters, coming up for air once in a while.

Whether he had intended to or not, Sunghoon had started to scratch at your surface, until he’d burrowed a small hole—shallow, but enough for cracks to appear, cracks you were quick to put back together as best as you could.

So when his gaze was too tender, his touches too gentle, you bristled. You went away, because you were afraid of what might happen if you stayed. The more you wanted to give him, the less you gave him anything at all. Your own desire overwhelmed you. His letterman jacket was warm around your shoulders, you proudly walked around with the four letters of his last name on your back, but you couldn’t get out of your mind how cold it would be if it was one day ripped away from you. 

You thought of Heeseung, how disillusioned you had been when you thought you had finally met someone who would love you the way you had always yearned to be, only for him to toss you away when you started asking for too much. You thought of your friends in middle school, how it seemed that no friendship could be more wonderful until you overheard them talking about you at a sleepover, about how clingy you were. You thought of your parents, how they had only bestowed kind words upon you when you performed well in your role of perfect daughter, of academically gifted child. How they hadn’t even glanced at any of the drawings you’d done of the four of you, mother, father, son and daughter holding hands with a bright yellow sun in the corner of the sky. How they had pushed you away from their bed when you seeked some comfort after a terrible nightmare. How they had never bothered to hide their disappointment when you came home from school with anything less than an A. How they had shunned your brother for not going down the path they had envisioned for him, how hard you had to fight to make them accept yours was not a worthless one.

Even your best friend seemed to think you were unable to receive affection of the likes of Sunghoon’s—but what you were afraid of was that he wouldn’t handle the amount of affection you knew you were able to give. In a way, that was what had drawn you to Sunghoon in the first place—from the moment you’d met him, you had been able to tell there was something of you in him. It seemed to you he had a heart that was overflowing with love, love to give, love to spare on whoever would have it. In his words, you were him. Nevertheless, your fear of getting hurt overrode your desire to feel Sunghoon’s love, and you didn’t know whether you would be able to revert to your nature after having spent so much time perfecting your new facade.

You knew what it was like to be cold. And so you prematurely braced yourself for it by pushing away Sunghoon’s warmth. If it was going to happen at some point, like Minjeong had hinted it would, might as well get used to it, right?

Except the cold never came. Sunghoon kept on burning relentlessly, no matter how much wood you fed his fire with—you could cling to him for nights on end or ignore his texts for days, without fail, he’d welcome you with his usual, unwavering warmth. He allowed you to bask in it, to momentarily let down your defenses. But something always happened to make you raise them back up—Minjeong would eye the two of you suspiciously, Heeseung would post on Instagram (Is one of the girls on slide five his new fling? Are they serious and it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, it’s that he didn’t want one with me?), or your mom would text you to ask you whether everything was okay.

Yet increasingly, you suspected there was something behind Sunghoon’s warmth, something you had missed, something that was tricking you. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, yes; in public, a knowing look from you was enough to have his face turn bright red, and in private, one simple touch had his chest heaving, yes; he expressed disappointment every time you turned him down for a hang-out. Your attachment to him grew, and it became harder to put what the two of you had into words.

It wasn’t just sex—it couldn’t be. It ran deeper than that. You knew what relationships that consisted of just sex were like, and this wasn’t that, it was too good, too intimate to be just that. But you weren’t a couple, that much was clear. Only four other people were aware something was even going on, your brother not included, and you acted as regular friends in front of everyone. Jake had insisted you didn’t fool around with another member of his hockey team because his relationship with Heeseung had already deteriorated enough, he didn’t need to be on weird terms with anyone else on your behalf, so you were not keen on letting him know about what you got up to with Sunghoon. Anyway, even if everyone on earth was in on your shenanigans, you and Sunghoon hadn’t convened on what it all meant. Who knew what was going on in his head? You were no stranger to how deceitful men could be when they were after certain bodily pleasures. Unless Sunghoon said it in so many words, multiple times, you would not be a hundred percent sure he wasn’t only looking to get laid, or wanted someone to act like his girlfriend without the label and the obligations that came with it.

Because you basically were acting like his girlfriend, and he like your boyfriend. You always went to each other. Always, only each other. Whether he needed a second opinion on an outfit, you needed a rant session about your dissertation, either of you a really good orgasm, it was each other you went to.

You waited for him to initiate a conversation about the status of your relationship like one waits for church bells to ring at the turn of the hour—you knew it was coming, but the sound might be too much to bear. And the longer you had to wait, the more you dreaded it. Because how would you react when the time came? You didn’t trust yourself not to run away; neither did Minjeong.

The cold hadn’t come yet. You couldn’t let yourself feel the warmth unreservedly. It was all unpleasantly lukewarm.

Then you went home for a weekend.

It was a good friend from school’s birthday, and despite having spent a lot of time with Sunghoon at the expense of studying, you had done well this semester and thought you deserved a break. After having been away for so long, you had started to underestimate the power of your need for your parents’ approval over you. One small instance that your brother and many other people would’ve brushed off easily was enough to set you off—that same cold look of disappointment when you decided to be honest and told them one of your courses was deadly boring all while being unnecessarily complicated and you had received a low B-grade in it. They barely spoke to you for the rest of the evening.

Exams were a mere few weeks away when you got back. You buried yourself in work, forgot everything and everyone else, even Sunghoon, even yourself.

The cold hadn’t come yet, so you sought it out for yourself.

At the same time, you hadn’t indulged in enough introspection to realize how frustrated you had been at Sunghoon for not trying to create defined boundaries around your relationship. You were unable to do it yourself, you unrealistically wanted him to do the work for the both of you, you got upset when he didn’t. What you were able to do was make up reasons why he wasn’t giving you the what are we talk—he doesn’t like you that much, he just wants sex, he’s settling for you until he finds the next best thing, the real thing. This wasn’t leading anywhere, so you cut it off before he could.

You set foot in the library at seven thirty a.m. on a Monday and every following day of that week, then the next, then the next. He managed to pull you out every now and then—you weren’t that strong against his big pleading eyes, his soft messy hair, his warm hands that entirely covered yours. 

Oftentimes, you were too tired at the end of a long library day to have sex. Sunghoon never held it against you—he seemed more than happy to cook you dinner, let you fall asleep halfway during a movie you had chosen, and cuddle all night long. But your body burned with resentment at his mere presence in your bed, in your home, in your text messages. Who was he to stop you from studying, from achieving your goals, to distract you from that top grade just so he could get off? Even your friends and brother weren’t trying so hard to make you take breaks. The worry that furrowed his eyebrows, which you used to want to see fade away with a caress of your thumb, now infuriated you to no end, it seemed — to you — put-on. He kissed your neck and you wanted to push him away instead of melt into him like you had before.

It was his turn to leave for a weekend for an out-of-town hockey game, and you convinced yourself his absence came as a relief. But on the Sunday evening they got back, as you came out of the library, you spotted your brother waiting right outside of the building.

“Why is it so hard to reach you?” he said when he saw you in lieu of a greeting. “What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even use it? I called you, like, five times.” “It was on airplane mode.” He rolled his eyes so hard, you could almost hear them moving beneath their lids. “What have you done to Sunghoon?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Sunghoon? What about him?” you asked, chest constricting at the mere thought of him and at the implication that something had happened to him, even if you were the cause. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was clear the truth had been revealed to Jake, and for some reason, it didn’t surprise you. You knew they roomed together and assumed Sunghoon must’ve told him. You tried your best to take it in stride. “I thought we said the hockey team was off-limits after Heeseung,” he said sternly. “Also, Sunghoon, of all people?” he adds before you can say anything. “That’s like, my bro. And he’s the nicest guy ever. Not the perfect pick for one of your victims, I must say-” “Oh, please, he’s not a victim. He’s a consenting adult.” “Then why is he so upset over you spending more time studying than with him?” “That’s the male ego for you, Jakey.” Your brother sighed deeply. “He’s really hurt, Y/N. If you were going to reject him, you could’ve done it nicely.”

You frowned. “Who said anything about rejecting him?”

“You’ve shut him out. You’ve shut all of us out.” Jake was staring at you, trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze on the ground and kicked non-existent pebbles around, hands hiding in your coat pockets. “You might not have meant it as one, but he took it as a rejection.”

You scoff. “There was nothing to reject. It’s not like we’re actually together.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me anything was going on, by the way.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“It is, ‘cause it concerns my sister and my best friend.”

“He’s your best friend?” you echo, a teasing smile on your lips. He rolls his eyes again.

“God, maybe you guys aren’t so bad together after all. But Y/N—I’m serious. You need to do something.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Because you’re the one who’s been fucking around.”

Ouch. “You’ve known about this whole thing for what, two days, and you’re already blaming me for the fact that it’s not going perfectly? How little do you think of me?”

“I don’t think little of you, Y/N, I just know you have a track record of not being serious about relationships.”

Your body tensed up. Maybe it had been a particularly long day. Maybe it had been a long time coming. Tears well up in your eyes—a sight you’ve not let your brother see in many, many years.

“You know what, fuck this, Jake. I’m stressed enough as it is. I’ve done my best with what I have, and you don’t get to pin this on me. As if I was the only person in that relationship. If Sunghoon has a problem, he can take it up with me directly.”

You walked away. Jake called after you once, and when you didn’t come back, caught up with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t wanna upset you. I just-I hate seeing him hurt, you know? And you too.”

“I’m glad my feelings are of some importance to you.”

“Of course they are,” Jake said, too concerned to detect the sarcasm in your words. “And you’re right, I’ve only heard Sunghoon’s side of the story. But it really sounded like-”

“Listen, Jakey, I really don’t wanna do this right now. Let’s talk about it when exams are over. I can’t have anything else taking up mental space. I mixed up my Greek third declension endings earlier.”

“God forbid.”

After some arguing, Jake let you off the hook—“Just for now,” he said. You’d get him to recount his and Sunghoon’s conversation in excruciating detail later.

You come out of an evening of contemplation resenting Sunghoon for bitching about you to your brother, of all people. As if he had been begging on his hands and knees for your devotion, as if you had been cool-headed and detached and not thinking he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend any second now every time you spent time together. You told yourself you were well and truly done with him for the time being. If there was anything to salvage, that was future you’s problem.

But late on Thursday evening, Jay sent you a voice message, something he only did when he was gravely drunk, shouting over loud chatter and rap music that Sunghoon hadn’t shown up to a party and was apparently still practicing. You’d caught wind of their loss at the game, and even though your heart had swollen with concern for Sunghoon, very well aware of how important winning was to him, you’d managed to squash it down. You had bigger fish to fry, namely, an Italian written exam that made up 75% of your overall grade for that course. But after ten minutes of re-reading the same three lines of an article from Republicca, you couldn’t get the image of Sunghoon skirting endlessly around the ice rink and potentially hurting himself out of your head. You told yourself you only had this one exam left and plenty of time to revise for it, packed up your things and headed for the rink.

It was past eleven p.m. when you got there. The rest is history. 

Your grievances came out in an ugly way, but Sunghoon’s refusal to listen to you got the best of your nerves, and although you really did feel that your worry was more genuine than his, you didn’t truly believe that all he wanted from you was sex—at least, you hoped it wasn’t. It was the first time you ever saw any sort of negative emotion on Sunghoon’s handsome features, be it anger, sadness or pain. It tugged at your heartstrings, made you want to wrap him in your arms and get him away from whatever it was that tugged his eyebrows into a frown—even if that was you.

Now, as if the water has inched up your ankles and frozen over, your feet stay planted on the ice for a while after he’s stormed off. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a hot, salty teardrop falls on your lips.

Your feet regain control of themselves, and they seem to move of their own accord as they guide you right in front of Sunghoon’s dorm room. You’re barely conscious as your knuckles rasp against the door, and the tears that had fallen back behind your eyes spill out once more as soon as your eyes meet his. He’s just come out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his hips, another one that he uses to dry his hair. His movements stop when he realizes who’s standing at his door, mouth falling slightly agape, chest visibly rising and falling. He’s so beautiful, you feel your heart breaking all over again.

Sobs pour uncharacteristically out of you, so much so that you have to hide your face behind your eyes. He ushers you in, holds you tight as everything flows out, the stress, the resentment, the loneliness, the longing. How could he be so close yet so far away this whole time? Did he want those miles of distance between you, or had you forced them upon him?

Sunghoon smoothes your hair down and shushes you, telling you it’s okay and that he’s here, voice strangled as if he’s on the verge of crying, too. A part of you still feels angry towards him, but the bigger part of you knows only he can give you the comfort you need.

“I missed you,” you say when you’ve calmed down partly. You only realize how true those words are once you’ve spoken them. You’ve missed waking up next to him, watching trashy reality TV together, taking coffee breaks that lasted too long in-between study sessions. You’ve missed the scent of his hair, the scent of his skin, you’ve missed watching the way his back muscles shift at the slightest of movements, feeling the weight of his head as he lay on your chest. All for a bunch of As you would’ve gotten without exerting yourself so much anyway.

“I missed you too, baby. Where did you go?” Just like that, you break down again, and he dissolves into apologies. “You’re here now, it’s all that matters,” he whispers against your hair.

“You didn’t see them, Hoon. You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” you say, struggling to speak, unsure you’re even making any sense but unable to stop. “I got As in everything, I worked so hard. Just one B, one week where I had four things due at the same time. Their faces, Hoon, like they were thinking, what was the point of letting me do this degree if I wasn’t even going to excel in it?”

“But you do excel in it, Y/N. You’re amazing at what you do. And even if you weren’t, you love it, and that’s what matters the most.”

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

“I can’t, Hoon,” you say, voice trembling. “I just can’t. I need them to be proud of me.”

“Isn’t it enough to be proud of yourself?”

“I wish it was.”

“Does it help if I tell you how proud I am of you and of how hard you’ve worked?”

He doesn’t see it, your face is still hidden in the crook of his shoulder, but a small smile makes its way to your lips. “A bit.”

“Then I’ll tell you everyday until you don’t need their approval anymore. They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They don’t even see what an amazing, beautiful, smart daughter they have. Or her sort-of-okay brother.” You laugh, and so does he. Sunghoon’s words and soothing touch against your back already alleviate the weight on your heart. “But I see it.”

You lift your head to look at Sunghoon. His eyes are glassy. “You see how amazing, beautiful and smart Jake is?”

He laughs again as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, exactly.” The way he looks at you makes you wish you could go back to the day you met him and right all of your wrongs. No more hiding or running away. You only want to stay under that gaze of his. But sadness soon replaces the joy in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. This has never been just about sex for me. Not even for a second.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

He frowns like a student in an advanced math class who’s just been asked what three plus three is—isn’t it obvious?

“I love you.”

Your eyes dart between his as if searching for any trace of deceit there. Of course, you don’t find any—because there hasn’t been any since the start. You’d let your own fears invent things that weren’t there. Your lips tremble and you find yourself bawling on his shoulder once more, your tears like a well that digs deeper and deeper so as to never run out of water.

“I hope these are good tears,” Sunghoon says light-heartedly, but you can detect the nervousness behind his words. You nod your head vigorously, willing yourself to say something back, but your tears overflow, make your breath hitch.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you manage in between sobs.

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you wanted to hear,” he explains.

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

“I didn’t know. I thought I was being obvious enough.”

“You probably were. I was the one who couldn’t see it,” you admit.

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, a sound of relief. “I’ve wanted you like that since the start.”

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

You lift your head again and when your eyes meet Sunghoon’s, it feels like coming out of your hiding place hours after the round of hide-and-seek was over. He hadn’t forgotten to come and find you. He was waiting for you to reveal yourself.

Which goes against the rules of hide-and-seek, but you don’t blame him.

You smile; he smiles, deep dimples carving crescents into his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

You hadn’t realized how cold your hands were until Sunghoon found them.

--

Everything after that was a blurry mess of tangled limbs, warm kisses, happy tears and relieved laughter.

Your touch had always been intoxicating, but Sunghoon was particularly sensitive to it that night. The mix of not having felt you close in weeks and the heightened emotions driven by your confessions made his skin tingle everywhere it came in contact with yours. He’d never slept so little without regretting it in the morning.

It goes without saying that most of the night was not spent talking, but you still had things you needed to discuss. The two of you laid out all of your fears, and Sunghoon was immensely relieved to finally get a glimpse into that mind of yours. He made you promise to always tell him what was going on, and he promised you you’d never be too much for him. Always just right.

Now, he gets to wait outside of your exam hall with your favorite flowers in hand, to put his arm around your shoulders during movie nights instead of holding your hand beneath the blanket, to kiss you over the barrier at the end of a hockey game he won. Heeseung’s narrowed eyes at the sight of the two of you is an added bonus.

You text him that you’ll hang around the locker rooms after the game so that you can head to the party together. The end of December is nearing and you can’t wait for the new year, for twelve whole months of not hiding your feelings for Sunghoon from anyone, not even from yourself, least of all from him. At least, that’s what you told him in a sappy, drunken voice message at two a.m. the previous night when the girls made you drink a bottle of prosecco to yourself—their way of congratulating you for an arduous but successful exam period.

He steps out of the locker rooms with Jake and Jay. You’ve never looked quite as pretty, face lighting up as you spot the three of them, his jersey on your shoulders. You’d worn it during your last exam—“I thought it might bring me luck to wear a pretty boy’s name on my back,” you’d told him, to which he’d replied that it was good practice for when you actually took his last name. You’d looked away, fighting a smile.

Now your smile is full-blown as you look at him, but the downside of being an official couple is that Jake has now more material to tease the both of you with.

“Oh my God, you waited for me, what a sweet sister I have been blessed with!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as he barrels towards you.

“Fuck off, Sim,” you say but accept his hug nonetheless. “Nice game.”

“I know.” He pulls away and ruffles your hair. Jay nods at you like you’re someone he shared a class with back in second year and not his friend of almost three years.

As if on cue, just as Sunghoon reaches you and envelops you in a hug, Jake turns around and yells loud enough for all the players spilling out of the locker rooms, “And don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” you yell back, and he smiles proudly. Sunghoon had never thought the day would come where you’d initiate a kiss in a room full of people—he’s on cloud nine when you take his head in your hands and press your lips to his, murmuring praises about how well he played.

“It was all for you, baby,” he says, trying to appear cool even though a blush is creeping up his ears. 

“Not for the recruiter of the national team?” you asked with a smirk.

He smiles, shrugging. “Maybe a bit for him too. You’re the one I want to impress.”

“Consider me impressed.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

You head towards your friends, hands warm against each other.

--

In classic mysterious Jay fashion, he organizes a New Year’s Eve party that he can’t attend himself.

He’s on holiday in some exotic country halfway across the world with his family, but he’s offered up their house for a celebration and tasked Jake with making sure no one trashes anything.

The party started three hours ago, and you’re sure it’s in full swing by now—you’re sure everyone is having a jolly old time, getting drunk enough to welcome the new year with a hangover, searching the crowds of people for the person they’ll want to kiss at midnight. You’re sure that people are having so much fun that whoever notices your and Sunghoon’s absence might think you’re missing out.

And maybe you are—but there’s nowhere you’d rather be than where you are now, straddling your boyfriend’s lap in the backseat of his car. He’s a little bit tipsy, you’re a little bit tipsy, it’s obvious in the way you kiss each other, messy, impatient, interspersed with giggles and with perhaps too much tongue. Your hands are not much more polite, harshly grabbing at his hair just the way you know he likes it, and neither are his, having snuck their way underneath your black satin dress long ago already.

When Sunghoon pulled you away from the party, you’d appropriately exclaimed, “But the party?”, to which he replied, “Fuck the party.” It wasn’t like him to curse, or to have anything but a bashful smile on his lips, like a guilty dog who’d been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t, even though he was just standing there, so when you see his stoney expression, you think something serious must’ve happened.

The something serious turned out to be “that guy who was touching your shoulder.”

Clearly, it’d take Sunghoon a little bit more time to be entirely secure in your relationship. In the meantime, you didn’t mind letting him fuck his jealousy away.

Although he’d been the one to whisk you away, you’re the one who finds yourself begging for him to speed things up. Your flimsy thong does absolutely nothing, so you’re basically grinding yourself bare against his clothed erection—and it’s not like the fabric of his suit trousers is very thick, either. A girl can only put up with so much dry humping before having her boyfriend’s dick inside of her goes from being a want to a need.

“Need you, Hoon,” you coo against the shell of his ear. A few words usually do the trick, but Sunghoon has other plans tonight.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

“I’m right here,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze of your ass.

“You know what I mean,” you say, practically whining.

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

You pull away and, looking at him directly, say, “God, Sunghoon. I want you to fuck me.” His shit-eating grin simultaneously makes you roll your eyes and goes straight to your core.

“That I can do.”

He keeps one hand on your ass as he loosens his tie first, then undoes his belt and trouser buttons. His slacks and underwear pool around his ankles, and all he needs to do is hike your dress up around your hips and push your thong to the side. You wrap a hand around his dick, but your mind is too hazy to do much with it—he’s started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, the pressure and speed as perfect as it always is. You let your forehead fall against his shoulders and moan unabashedly, thankful he decided to park the car far enough away from the house.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?”

“I love it, Hoon.”

He hums his approval. “You’re so perfect. So perfect and so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You start to say “yes,” but you interrupt yourself with a gasp. You hold onto Sunghoon’s arm, feel his muscles move under your palm as he slips two fingers inside of you without warning. “Please,” you choke out, a tight knot already forming in your stomach.

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

He smiles as if endeared, but his words couldn’t be more different. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going off with some random guy the one minute I was somewhere else.”

“He’s just-fuck, Hoon, he’s just a mutual friend of Jay and I. Fuck, right there, baby.” Forming coherent sentences when Sunghoon’s fingers flick against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again is no easy task, but you need to defend yourself.

“Right there?” he echoes, voice a whisper against your ear. When you nod, eyes shut tight, he slips his fingers out. You look at him, betrayed. “That’s too bad. Why don’t you ask him to touch you right there, hm?”

You don’t know how much of his jealousy is put-on to get you to beg and how much of it is real. You make a mental note to have a conversation with him about this later—right now, you don’t mind playing along if it means your boyfriend will deign to fuck you. You know he wants to, he’s just making you work harder.

You move your hand up and down along his dick, brush his reddening tip with your palm every now and then. “He couldn’t touch me like you, Hoon.” You lean in and trail kisses along his neck, his jawline, his ears. “Can’t fuck me like you, either.”

With exams, hockey matches and any other responsibilities out of the way for winter break, the two of you had had an obscene amount of sex in the past couple of weeks. You’d done other things, of course, namely having much-needed conversations with each other, your friends, your families. Sunghoon’s mother was overjoyed at the news, glad her “duckling had finally met someone” — her words — and his sister kept stealing his phone from him to talk to you when you were on FaceTime. You and Jake had gone home for two days for Christmas, and although Jake had needed to pep talk you into it for over an hour, you managed to tell them that you wouldn’t stand for being belittled for your life choices anymore.

But in-between these conversations, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’ve grown more comfortable with each passing day, both of you bolder in vocalizing what you want and how you feel. And so, you quickly found out that your Sunghoon, your shy, sweet Sunghoon, got off like nothing else on salacious words. In line with his possessiveness, he loved hearing about how he and only he could do these things to you; in line with your need for validation, you could practically come from hearing his praises alone.

“That’s right, baby.” Like the gentleman he is, he fishes out the condom wrapper he had gotten ready from his trouser pocket, tears it open with his mouth and rolls the condom on with one hand, his other one still preoccupied with you. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his sweet tone worlds away from his previous teasing, almost cocky one. He grabs your hips, guides you closer to him and lines your entrance with the tip of his dick. He lets you go at your own pace, rubs your thighs soothingly as you sink down onto him slowly and adjust to his size. You throw your head back, mind hazy with pleasure as you move your hips back-and-forth against him.

“You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” His words make you pick up your pace, and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grabbing at his hair and sides of your faces pressed against each other as you start lifting your hips and sinking back down. Sunghoon’s hands hold your ass tightly, guiding you up and down. It’s hot in the car; sweat runs down your hairline and your back, air is running low, the windows are fogging up, but it only adds to the dizzying bliss growing in you. Even the seatbelt receiver digging into your knee doesn’t bother you.

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

Your hours of studying everyday means your thighs aren’t the strongest—good thing for you that your boyfriend has enough stamina and strength for the both of you. As soon as he feels you tiring, your rhythm becoming slower and more irregular, he picks up your slack. One hand on your back, one arm around your waist, he presses you close to him, his hold on you so tight you can barely move. He bucks his hips harshly into yours, faster and faster, making you cry out with every brush of his tip against that spot deep inside of you. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as your moans grow higher and louder, until the tension in your stomach hits its apex and unravels. A gasp leaves your throat as you come around him, but he’s unrelenting, the overstimulation quickly making tears form in your eyes. Strings of curses and praises of how perfect you are spill out of Sunghoon’s mouth disorderly as he reaches his own end.

Together, you take your time catching your breath, his fingers roaming your back while you trail soft kisses all over his face and neck. “My pretty baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart swell with so much affection for him that you press your lips to his, shutting him up in case he says something that actually has you exploding.

You wish you could spend some more time just the two of you before returning to the party, but when you check your phone, it’s already five minutes to midnight—he puts his clothes back on as you fix your hair in a rush, Sunghoon helping you wipe away traces of mascara under your eyes, and together, run back to the living room where everyone has gathered. You find Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jake, who has Jay on FaceTime. It’s only five p.m. where he is.

Everyone counts down from ten together. The first thing you do in the new year is kiss Park Sunghoon—and you’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, too.

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2024. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @jakeflvrz (ask to be removed/added!)

[inuyashaluver]

Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about

Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️

suit and tie - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie

warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive

a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.

—

leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.

but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?

and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.

you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.

you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.

you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.

at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.

it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.

—

when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.

though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.

she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.

she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.

she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.

a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.

everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.

you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,

“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.

you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.

you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.

“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.

“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,

“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.

“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.

“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.

you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.

“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.

leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.

“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.

you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.

when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,

“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.

you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.

your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.

she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.

“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.

“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,

“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.

her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.

when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.

“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.

you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.

when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.

it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.

it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.

the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.

her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.

“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.

the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.

you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.

“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.

you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.

as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.

the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.

she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.

“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.

“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”

you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.

“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.

her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.

her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.

your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.

she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.

“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.

you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.

she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.

“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.

she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.

you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.

—

you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.

people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.

—

it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.

during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.

the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.

when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.

“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.

you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,

her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.

you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.

as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.

“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.

“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,

“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,

“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.

after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s yours and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x

liked by alexscott2 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me

view all comments

yourname: so cheesyyyyyy

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it

↳ yourname: do i?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do

↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson

↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, (Part 3??)

Part 1 was many months ago.. oopsie! Been doing a lot of reading recently and HOLY FUCK I LOVE THE TWISTED SERIES BY ANA HUANG. I JUST FINISHED IT, CAN'T WAIT TO READ THE KING OF SINS SERIES (btw I finished it a long time ago, this draft just never made it out). Do y'all like want some stuff implemented from there, here? I'M THINKING KING OF GREED? 👀

Also.. This was supposed to be my birthday special, but what happened was I became busy and never got around to making a definitive ending.. but don't worry, this isn't where the series ends.

My goodness the taglist on this one almost doubled, to anyone who doesn't want to be part of the tags, please tell me so that I can remove you because this will be the official list and it's still open for more people who wanna see this series.

Warning: Too lazy to proof read since I have so much to do, please tell me any autocorrected, misspelled words in the replies so I can change it.. 😭

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Simon sulked, his forehead resting on the soft mattress. His back and neck were aching yet he couldn't get the fear and worry out his head. You clear the fog in your head, your body felt sore despite the semi-comfortable bed you were laying on.

You groan softly, forcing yourself to sit-up, where the fuck was your daughter? Was she safe? In a panic you looked around the room, you let out a long, deep sigh as you saw her laying on the couch. Long blond hair splayed around messily on the pillow with a blanket that was barely hanging onto her body, she looked so peaceful.

You felt movement next to you, Simon woke up. He looks up to you, in a bit of a shock. He didn't say a word before holding you and guiding you back down to lay on the slightly adjusted bed, back against the pillow he fixed behind you, you wanted to fight it and protest but his strength was god-like on your still weak and not well rested body, your throat was dry to the point of pain and obvious discomfort.

Simon knows you better than you know yourself, resentment settled in your blood, felt more than the amount than when you missed him. He took the tightly sealed water bottle on the table next to your bed and pries it open, holding the bottle's opening to your lips.

You took a big gulp with his guide but you gently took the bottle off his hand into your own, your fingers brushing his a bit in the process, basically telling him you could do it yourself. A few more gulps down and your throat was eased, you handed back the water bottle to Simon.

He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers rubbing and grazing the spot your fingers accidentally touched. You looked down with dismay as he takes the bottle from you and closes it.

Was he so disgusted and revolted by your touch that he's brushing off his fingers from it? You knew you didn't end it good terms but you had no idea he hated you that much. Maybe not.. are you overthinking? Probably.

It was silent, awkward, just hearing the IV drip and the beeps of the heart monitor. Simon wanted to say something so bad but what do you say to the love of your life who you've hurt severely and regret it because you still love her and want to be in her life again? Mouthful, he knows.

Simon had no right to you anymore, he couldn't even scold you and tell you to take better care of yourself anymore because that's what he used to do, it's way too familiar. He couldn't even touch you without him thinking it would make you uncomfortable.

You feel it, rather see it more but Simon wanted to die in the moment. Heavy breaths and clearly restless eyes, disheveled hair..

"How do you feel..?" He said, he looks elsewhere as he wanted to avoid the way your eyes chose to settle on him..

"I don't know..? I don't know how to process all this but there's no physical pain, just nausea.." you said, he got up to call a nurse and alert them that you're awake. He chose to step out while the doctor did the regular routine of checking everything.

"Momma?" You turn to your left at the couch where your daughter was sat up, rubbing her eyes.. she got off it and immediately ran to you, "I'm glad you're okay now.." she said which never failed to make you smile with how caring she tended to be..

"What happened bubs? Momma doesn't remember much except for fainting.." you asked the bundle of joy as you tried to piece back what had happened beforehand..

"I called dada when you fell, momma. I was so scared, I was shouting but you won't wake up.. dada took so long to get there but when he did, he asked me to go in the car while carried you inside to take you here.." she said, you took her off the ground and placed her at your side, embracing her little body.

"I'm sorry bubs, momma should've taken better care of herself.. if I had, I wouldn't have been so sick to the point of unconsciousness.." you felt so guilty, if only it had been under better circumstance then you would've been able to take care of yourself better and not put your child through what must've been a moment that should've set her in a panic.

"It's okay, momma. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of you like you take care of me.." her sweet little voice paused for a moment.

"Momma, what does unconscious mean?" She asked, you laughed, forgetting that she doesn't know the meaning of certain words yet..

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle @darkhorrorwhispers @cyphah @ash-tarte @linaangel @waves-against-a-cliff @fruitymoonbeams-blog @venussdovess @mactavishsgfandwife @thisisaphrodite @holyfeck @avalkyrieofparis @mymelx @ssc7514 @lilaclazer @fandomwarrior98 @spontaneousleo

[thatfandomslut]

I'll Always Protect You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: Reader pushing Regina out of the way of the bus, established relationship between Regina/Reader, injuries, near death experience.

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 22 and piece of chocolate 3. Or: "You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die." w/ injury

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

Regina stared in shock at where (Y/n) had once been standing as she pushed Regina. A bus was now in her place and Regina stared, shaking as she turned to see (Y/n) lying on the ground unconscious. She was thankful for the bus blocking her from the other students as she crumbled to the floor momentarily. Faculty had already rushed over to the girl sprawled on the ground, and Principal Duvall jumped into action, calling an ambulance on his phone as he kneeled by Regina, placing a hand on her shoulder. Once he confirmed they were on the way, he turned to the blonde.

"Are you okay? Are you injured, too?" He questioned in concern. Regina never realized until then that he was an incredibly caring person. Regina's eyes were still wide as she swallowed thickly. When she processed that he was still waiting for a response, he nodded slowly. "Good, come on, let's move away from this area. The ambulance might need to park here. Are you okay to walk? I know that you're probably in shock." When Regina shook her head, he gently helped her up and then moved her across the street where everyone else was. They were all staring at her for a moment, their gazes shifting to the worried faculty members huddling around (Y/n).

Regina didn't know what to do. Her girlfriend just pushed her out of the way of a bus and potentially saved her life. She risked her life for Regina's. Regina sat on the sidewalk, now letting Cady approach her. The strawberry blonde rested her hand on Regina's shoulder carefully and through all of the processing of what just happened, she leaned into Cady's touch. Cady gently squeezed her shoulder as an ambulance came. Janis was still on the other side of the bus, looking over in shock. There was so much going on that no one knew what to do or say. Still, they knew somehow this was going to be all over the school tomorrow.

Regina held back tears, wanting to know if (Y/n) would be okay. She wished that she wasn't frozen in her place. She felt guilty because it was from her not paying attention to her surroundings that (Y/n) even made the action. Everything that she had happened earlier seemed miniscule. Cady and Janis ruining her life, the Burn Book, the group therapy held by Ms. Norbury. Everything seemed so unimportant. The only thing on Regina's mind was the well-being of her girlfriend. She watched the paramedics haul her onto a stretcher and drive away urgently, and her face fell into her hands.

A couple of days later, Regina found it in her to visit (Y/n) at the hospital. Sucking in a breath, she knocked on a door. "Come in," (Y/n) croaked out, causing Regina to wince just at the sound of her voice. Walking into the room, she acknowledged all of the flowers around (Y/n). "Hey, Regina," the girl had a corrective neck collar on and looked tired. It was obvious that she was a bit loopy on medicine. Regina put a vase of roses down and sat by (Y/n)'s bedside. She didn't know how exactly to approach her. She had been waiting it out for the last two days since she couldn't visit yet anyway.

(Y/n) was still hooked into an IV, Regina noticed. Regina started to think about all of the things she had been wanting to say, but she had to sit with her thoughts for a long moment. She was grateful that (Y/n) was understanding as she sat next to her bedside. She knew (Y/n) almost lost her life for her, so what was she supposed to say to someone who would throw themselves in front of a bus for her? She wanted to yell at (Y/n) and call her stupid but remind her that she loved her. Instead, she settled with other words.

"You saved my life," Regina said, taking (Y/n)'s hand softly. She felt comforted by how warm it was. She was scared that if it was cold, the fantasy would crumble and (Y/n) would be gone. She swallowed down an unwanted sob as she tried to blink away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Even if (Y/n) was the only person she ever got vulnerable around in the past, she knew she had to be strong for her. "Despite everything that happened at school, you saved me. Why did you push me out of the way?"

(Y/n) smiled softly, using all of her strength to provide a gentle squeeze to Regina's hand. "Because, Regina, I love you. Even if I did die after the bus, I would fade away, but you're this ever-lasting, shining star. You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. I'll always protect you. You deserve the entire world. And, if I had to do it again to save you again, I would." She said softly. Regina smiled back at her girlfriend before leaning in to kiss her gently, careful with her collar. (Y/n) kissed back happily, feeling like this moment made everything even more worth it.

Regina pulled away and her eyes searched (Y/n)'s for a long moment. "I love you, too. You're a star in my sky, too. I want you to know how important you are to me. I can't lose you, either." Regina said earnestly, the tears she attempted to hide finally spilling over her cheeks as she sniffled. She wasn't always the best with her words or her feelings. She often came out as crass or mean, but she couldn't lose (Y/n) just as much as the girl claimed she couldn't lose Regina. Regina had been scared out of her mind when the bus crashed into her, trying not to imagine what might happen if she didn't get any of those cute good-morning messages or late-night calls. (Y/n) was her star, too.

[declareqenius]

all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

[m0llygunn]

i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)

cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k

“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.

“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 

“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 

“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 

If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 

“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.

“No?”

“I'll never get sick of you.” 

Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 

His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.

“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 

“Just before high school.”

He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 

“Why?” 

The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.

“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 

For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 

“I was so sad, Eddie.” 

You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 

One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.

Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 

Sorry for bringing it up. 

Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 

Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 

Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.

Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 

“It’s not your fault,” you answer.

“I know,” he replies.

“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 

He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 

“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.

———

ty! <3

[hellodropbear]

it's time. (IV)

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

part I, II and III

enjoy! this is the final part of the series

please send requests for any one shots for this family because I love them!

~~~~~~

The knock at the door was loud and rapid.

Mapi knew exactly who it was, having received very subtly passive text messages from Alexia about 15 minutes earlier.

Besides, it's not like it was going to be Ingrid, and nobody else visited her at the apartment.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she opened the door, bracing herself for whatever Alexia was going to say to her.

No words ever came out though, the midfielder just striding in and sitting herself on the sofa, her feet right beside where Isabel was playing.

"Ale!" The toddler's voice became excited as soon as she noticed her godmother walking in.

"Hey my Is." Her first words were incredibly exasperated, a long sigh escaping as her attention was turned to Mapi who was standing anxiously by the front door, having frozen after closing it.

"Frido told me that Ingrid is 'dejected and confused.'" She used her hands to make quotation marks around the adjectives before continuing. "She told me exactly what you said to her, how you said it. When you said it."

Mapi exhaled softly, walking over to where she had been playing with her daughter and sitting down, her little black cat settling in her lap.

"You told me to talk to her." Her voice came out like a mouse, quiet and hesitant.

"I didn't mean say one sentence on the pitch after the game and walk away! I meant think about what you wanted to say, how to say it and then have a grown up conversation with her!"

Isabel's head whipped back up, unfamiliar with the aggression in Alexia's voice. The midfielder winced, reducing her voice down to a softer tone.

"You are going to have to fix this Mapi, you can't avoid her like I know you were planning on doing."

The centre back's hands were occupied with the toys, but her mind was far from playing as she considered her options.

"What, so I tell her I want to be friends?"

Alexia nodded easily.

"But what if I can't? She's not someone I can just be friends with, Ale."

"Then you can just see where it takes you."

She shakes her head, her hands freezing around the toys in her hands.

"I wish it were that easy."

Alexia's heart broke with Mapi's voice, only now noticing the heartbreak written all over her best friend's face. Because this is really what Mapi thought was the right thing to do.

"Depriving yourself of happiness for the sake of your child is not going to end well for either of you."

Alexia's voice was softer now, her hand coming to a rest on Isabel's curly head of hair.

But Mapi just shook her head again, disagreeing.

"Isabel doesn't deprive me of happiness, she makes me happy. She's kept me going ever since Luis died."

The midfielder knew this, and she knew how much her best friend loved her child, how much she needed her and how much she relied on her. The baby was everything to Mapi and it was so obvious that she was just so afraid of doing something wrong, of messing up Isabel's childhood.

Everyone who knew the mother knew that wouldn't happen because she has done such a good job of raising the happy baby despite her own problems that she could easily let overcome her.

Once, she told Alexia that she had lost a best friend but been given a new one instead.

Another time, she had said that she would never be good enough for the baby that carries half of Luis around with her. She admitted that every once in a while, she would see tiny bits of her late best friend in her child and be so overcome with emotion.

Because it took her best friend dying to have this baby who she loved so much.

The day of Isabel's birth was a day of huge and conflicting emotions because Mapi loved the baby before she even saw her and couldn't imagine giving her away so quickly, but she also knew that if she hadn't just experienced the greatest heartbreak of her life she would have had to give her back to her parents.

And on top of that, the death of Luis and Isabel meant that they wouldn't be able to watch their little girl grow up, they wouldn't be able to be parents, something both of them desired so greatly.

So she loved her baby daughter so much, but part of that love would always be tainted by what she could have been, what she should have been; the fun aunt.

She was given the baby because she was the next best option after the two perfect parents, and she made a promise to herself that she would spend every day of her life trying to live up to what Isabel could have had.

Why should the baby lose out on such good parenting because of a tragic car accident?

And Mapi knew that she could never and would never break that promise.

Alexia knew that too, but she didn't think that Mapi finding someone to love would break her promise. If Ingrid was the right person, she would love and care for Isabel too, just like she already did.

"I know, Maria. But I think you deserve this, I know you do. If you don't like her like that I'll leave you alone, but I think you do."

Mapi's face softened.

"Of course I like her, Ale. She's kind, she's loyal, she's helpful. Is loves her and she loves Is. She's gorgeous - on the inside and the outside but she is so much more than that. She's complex, Alexia and-"

She was interrupted.

"And so are you. We all are complex and that's good. We all have our own stories and hardships, they just vary in size. You have a big story Mapi, I know. She knows that too."

"She doesn't know."

The centre back shook her head because in truth, she hadn't been able to bring herself to say it.

She had spent hours with Ingrid, every day over the past month they'd seen each other, gone on walks, had dinner together. Of course the topic of how Isabel was born should have come up, because Mapi was obviously a gay woman, it wouldn't have just been an accident.

She'd told Ingrid that she gave birth to Isabel, but nothing more.

Ingrid didn't feel like it was her place to ask any questions, and Mapi didn't know how to say anything more without breaking into tears for her lost best friend. She couldn't tell Ingrid about the pressure she felt because the Norwegian wouldn't have understood. Surely, she couldn't have?

Alexia's eyes rose and then focussed back down on Mapi.

"She doesn't know about Luis? Why you were out for so long?"

She shrugged, letting out a long exhale.

"I said that I gave birth to Isabel and didn't want to leave her so soon to go to training. She didn't ask any more questions. It's not like I lied or anything."

"I think you need to talk to her, Mapi. You don't need to talk about Isabel, but you need to tell her your thoughts. Try and be friends, for the sake of the team, please."

Mapi shrugged, telling Alexia that she would consider it.

The midfielder also suggested visiting the psychologist, but the suggestion was quickly shot down, as it was when Jonatan suggested it on her first day back.

Mapi had been to a psychologist once since Isabel was born, and it was a secret she would likely take to her grave. It had been a low point and she didn't know who to talk to, so she searched up a psychologist in Barcelona and went the next day.

She had sobbed on that sofa as Isabel slept in her arms, entirely unsure of what to do next and how to deal with her career, with her baby and with the grief that consumed her everyday life.

The psychologist had sat there with a neutral face, appearing bored as Mapi poured her heart out. She only spoke when Mapi's cries were reduced to quiet whimpers, telling her that she was depressed and shouldn't have taken on a load as big as a whole child when she was still clearly grieving her best friend.

The referral to the psychiatrist had only made the Spaniard feel worse, and she had returned to her apartment with less security in her decisions than she had before she went.

Another promise was made that day, and that was that she would never return to a psychologist, not unless she was forced to by the club. She would deal with everything else on her own.

~~~~~~

"You've been so good to me, Ingrid, and I'm so grateful. But I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't have a girlfriend."

The words echoed through Ingrid's mind in the days that followed, unsure of what had happened, where she went wrong.

Mapi was the first person she'd become friends with, and she thought it was going well. She thought the Spaniard had liked her just as much as Ingrid liked the Spaniard, but clearly not. She had read the signs wrong or something, because you wouldn't say that to someone you liked.

She heard Isabel calling for her on the bus on the way home again, but this time she just smiled and waved.

She couldn't bring herself to sit next to Mapi, not when she had left her in the dust as soon as she recited her rehearsed lyric. It was confusion that she felt for a few days, but it didn't take long for that confusion to morph into anger and bitterness.

Frido had been understanding throughout it all, listening to all Ingrid's anger and confusion, advising her over and over to just talk to the Spaniard.

"She's got a child and we don't even know where she came from. It took her 14 months to start training again after giving birth when it usually takes up to 9. There must be something going on, Ingrid. She said she can't have a girlfriend, not that she doesn't want one."

The Norwegian had scowled, brushing off Frido's concern for Mapi and complaining that she was supposed to be on her side.

Frido was, but she was level-headed, she was smart. She wasn't blinded by anger or love or whatever Ingrid felt for the short centre-back with the adorable child.

"I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to go and beg. I just want it to be easy, I wish it was just easy."

Frido shook her head, an arm around Ingrid.

"It's not easy for an average person, let alone someone like Mapi who clearly has so much stuff going on. We don't know if she has anyone to talk to about anything, about raising a child."

"Alexia is like Isabel's other parent, she's been there since day one, apparently. Mapi's mum and Alexia were the only ones at the hospital when Isabel was born. She's not completely alone."

Ingrid shrugged but Frido frowned, becoming more and more curious about Mapi found herself with this child, and what the mystery was.

It wasn't her business, Frido knew that, but everyone was so proud of the Spaniard when she went back to training, her first game back. Their pride in the special centre back was more important than anything else after a long two years off.

And Mapi's emotions on that first day, the seemingly happy tears that she had wept in the changing room. They felt like more than happiness about a return to football.

Although, Frido couldn't be sure. Maybe Mapi just loved football more than anything else, a perfectly reasonable and realistic explanation to the emotions that were witnessed that day.

Ingrid knew it was more than that, more than just a return to football that had made her so happy. Because Ingrid knew Mapi, and while football was important to the Spaniard, it was nowhere near as important as her life outside of the sport: her friends, her family. Her daughter.

It was something that Ingrid was so drawn to. It was clear on the pitch how much she loved the sport, how she thrived when she was playing it. But outside of that... it was like she didn't play football.

Her apartment was like a sanctuary, a place cut off from the rest of the world where Isabel could live in naive happiness and Mapi could rest with her baby and her cat. It exuded happiness, bright colours and toys displayed, the fridge decorated with bits of scrap paper covered in a selection of scribbled lines. Mapi would draw Ingrid's attention over to the fridge when a new piece appeared, bragging about how her child was an artistic genius, how she would grow up to be just like her Mami.

She was so full of love for someone so small and it made Ingrid's heart weak, unable to fully comprehend the stark difference between Mapi at football and Mapi with Isabel.

She fell in love, she thought, with both versions of her.

With the one who would carelessly block dangerous shots, carefree and boisterous on the field, assertive and aggressive when she needed to be but always running off with a laugh afterwards. She lead the team in a way that even Alexia admired, the young players drawn to her uncanny ability to make everyone laugh.

She fell in love with the one who spoke in a childish voice, relishing in the never ending hugs and kisses that Isabel would provide, swinging her around in the park and never being more than a couple metres away from the baby that she loved so so much. A perfect mother with a perfect daughter, both so full of love for each other.

And Ingrid felt so lucky that she could see both sides of the Spaniard, that she could witness her around two things she loved so much and compare how differently she materialised her love for both of them.

But then she made her return to a competitive game, in Valencia with a perfect comeback.

Ingrid was so excited for her, happy to see her thriving on the field, a place she loved. She played brilliantly as well, quietening all the people who said she shouldn't be there, that she had spent too much time off.

She proved that she had, in fact, been that missing piece of Barcelona in their past two years of struggle, easily filling in the gap with her generational talent.

And the Norwegian was so proud, despite not knowing the whole story, not knowing all the challenges that Mapi had faced between the birth of Isabel and now. She knew enough to be proud and that is all that mattered.

She had smiled brightly at the Spaniard, walking towards her and pulling her into a hug ready to whisper her congratulations.

But Mapi had other plans, her words rendering Ingrid speechless as she walked away, back down the tunnel with Alexia's arm swung over her shoulders.

But the Norwegian felt frozen in time, unsure of what had just happened and why she said whatever she had just said.

She'd been pulled from her frozen state quickly by Frido, who had noticed the interaction and frowned.

It was easy for the Swede to recognise her best friend's crush, and also to recognise how it was so easily reciprocated by Mapi. She hadn't expected Mapi to say what she said to Ingrid, and was suddenly filled with overprotective and frustrated anger.

~~~~~~

Isabel had begun to miss Ingrid's presence after about a week. It was clear when Mapi took her out on her walks, her small head peering out of the pram, trying to spot the tall Norwegian with those warm and comfortable arms.

Mapi brushed it off every time, but it didn't help the pit in her stomach at all.

The Spaniard was lonely, she realised, and she had been since Isabel was born.

Sure, she had a person living with her, but there was only so much she could say to a baby so little without going crazy at the lack of response. Other than the word 'Mami', of course.

She was lonely before Ingrid, and it was only after she pushed the Norwegian away that she realised how she filled that hole so easily.

Conversation had fallen so easily between them and it filled the silences that Mapi had grown so used to as she lived her life with the baby. She enjoyed talking to someone about things that weren't about her grief, her baby.

She enjoyed talking about herself again, simultaneously getting to know Ingrid and  everything she stood for.

She fell for the Norwegian, quickly, but that wasn't hard for her to understand, it hadn't taken her long to realise it.

It was harder to realise that they couldn't be anything more than friends, that she had to push her away - the exact opposite to what she actually wanted to do. She knew Ingrid would be upset. That she'd be confused and angry.

But it's what she knew was right. At least it's what she thought was right.

She wasn't so sure anymore, her heart breaking a little bit more every time Isabel looked around for the Norwegian, her face falling at her absence over and over again.

"Ingrid!"

The lift doors opened to a sweaty Norwegian, headphones in and her eyes on her phone.

Isabel saw her first, Mapi's eyes also on her phone on the trip down.

Both of the adults looked up at each other, Ingrid almost immediately diverting her eyes down to Isabel who was beaming.

"Hello Is! I've missed you!" She smiled at Isabel, and Mapi's smile dimmed slightly.

It was a reminder of what she had pushed away, of everything she couldn't have.

The baby giggled happily, reaching her arms up to try and get Ingrid to lift her.

The Norwegian made eye contact with Mapi, silently checking if it was alright and the centre back nodded easily.

Ingrid tried to ignore the sadness in Mapi's eyes. Maybe the centre back did miss her. Maybe she did regret pushing her away.

Maybe there was a reason why she pushed her away, more than just to hurt the Norwegian.

She picked Isabel up easily and the baby fit perfectly on her hip, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her arms around her neck.

She looked over at Mapi, who was still somewhat frozen by the elevator door.

"Mami! Ingrid." She pointed at the Norwegian. "Play!"

Mapi shook her head.

"No, Is. Ingrid can't come with us."

The baby frowned, tilting her head at Mapi.

"Why?"

"Because she's just been on a walk! She can't go on two."

The Spaniard's voice was weak and Isabel's lip trembled, her smile disappearing as she understood her mother's words.

"No!"

She began to cry and Mapi stood frozen on the spot, completely unsure of what to do.

She wasn't a bad mother, she was better than this. She knew how to calm her crying baby but for some reason she just couldn't move.

She bit back her own tears, refusing to let Ingrid see her cry, to see her so weak and helpless with her baby when she was supposed to be a strong and independent mother.

Ingrid let Isabel cry into her neck, rocking her softly and staring at a frozen Spaniard.

"It's fine, Mapi. I can come."

She frowned at her still frozen form, unsure how else she could deal with the situation.

Mapi didn't know either, but she nodded, somewhat misunderstanding Ingrid's offer when she shoved the pram over to her.

"I can't, I can't deal with this right now." Mapi felt hysterical, but she tried desperately to keep it together. "Please just take her, calm her down. She hates me, she hates me so much."

It wasn't true, obviously, because Isabel loved Mapi more than anything.

But Ingrid knew Mapi, and she knew she wouldn't listen to anything that she had to say in attempts to comfort her.

"I'll take her, come back in an hour or so and you sort yourself out, Mapi. She's confused, she doesn't hate you. She just got used to me and then you got rid of me and is confused about it all. She's only little. So go back to your apartment, calm yourself down and sort yourself out. I'll calm her down and bring her back in one piece."

Mapi nodded aggressively, stepping backwards into the closed lift doors, awkwardly pressing the button as Ingrid walked away with her still crying baby.

It was only when she reached her apartment again that everything hit her. The confusion, the guilt, the stress, the embarrassment.

And she cried. She let everything out as loud as she could because for the first time in so long she was alone in the apartment, no child to hear her cry, no friends to help her work through the emotions.

It never worked, either. Crying was the best way for Mapi to release everything, she realised and she took advantage of the empty apartment as she realised that she hadn't been able to cheer her own daughter up, she had passed off to her teammate as she cried.

She was weak, she was a terrible mother.

She couldn't do it anymore.

Luis would be disappointed.

Worse, Luis would be heartbroken.

And that's what she thought as she fell asleep, the tears tiring her eyes until they dropped closed, sending her off to a restless sleep on the sofa.

~~~~~~

"Wake up, Mapi."

She must have forgotten to lock the door because Ingrid had walked in as she slept and was now sat on the other side of the sofa.

Mapi's eyes snapped open, looking around in confusion before sinking back into herself as she realised it was not just a dream.

"Isabel is ok. She's asleep and I put her down in her cot. She stopped crying pretty quickly and was happy at the park. She fell asleep in her pram on the way back."

Mapi nodded, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

"You need to tell me what's going on."

The Spaniard frowned. There was a lot going on.

"Which bit?" She smiled weakly, faltering under the Norwegian's harsh gaze.

"Why you said what you said. Why you just froze when Isabel was crying, practically running away and letting me deal with it. Why you came up here and cried yourself to sleep. I deserve to know this. I at least deserve to know why you pushed me away so easily and so suddenly."

If there was a time that Mapi wished the floor would swallow her whole, it was right then and there. Because she wasn't prepared for this conversation, she didn't know how she was supposed to have it without breaking down all over again.

It wasn't an easy topic, talking about why she can't date which is what had caused the whole debacle. It opened the whole story about Luis and how Isabel was created.

And of all times, this night was the worst possible time for Mapi to speak about Luis. Right after she realised how disappointed he would be in her parenting, how sad he would be that his daughter was being raised by someone so incapable.

It was funny, really, how one tiny situation could change Mapi's entire perspective, how it could completely destroy any confidence she had about her parenting abilities.

She didn't want to talk about it, not at all. But Ingrid was right there, a judgemental yet somewhat concerned eye focused on the Spaniard who seemed to be struggling to form a sentence.

The silence lasted multiple minutes and Ingrid was about to speak again right before Mapi opened her mouth.

She didn't know what she was going to say, but she knew she needed to say something, so she did.

She started at the beginning, with Isabel's health issues and Ingrid had no idea where it was going.

Why did it matter that Mapi's best friend's wife was sick?

But very quickly, as Mapi spoke about their desires to become parents, everything began to fall into place.

And the Norwegian was horrified by the tragic story she was hearing, a lump in her throat forming as the mother lamented how she was the only option left to raise Isabel, how she was alone in her final trimester until Alexia came over two weeks later and found out that Luis had died, that her best friend had been left behind with his unborn baby, her life changed forever.

His genetics still growing inside her long after he took his final breaths.

Mapi didn't stop as her voice broke, moving away from the topic of Luis and onto how much Isabel meant to her, how much she worried that she would make a mistake, that her friends would have made such better parents than she did.

How she had to have full focus on raising Isabel and couldn't be distracted by anything - she couldn't be distracted by football in the beginning which is why she took so long to come back. How she can't be distracted by a girlfriend now, which is why she pushed Ingrid away.

Ingrid wiped a tear away as Mapi's fell freely, continuing to explain how she had been depressed but unable to get herself any help after the one disastrous trip to the psychologist.

How she felt incapable of unloading her issues onto others, only telling Alexia the necessary stuff to stop her from nagging.

"Luis would be so disappointed in me because I have ruined everything. I can't do anything by myself and I never should have agreed to keep her. I love her so much, I don't want to ruin her."

That was where the Spaniard stopped, seemingly overcome with emotion as she broke down into her hands, Ingrid quick to move to her side and pull her into a warm hug.

"You're so wrong, Mapi. So wrong. I've never heard anyone be more wrong in my life. You are the best mother Isabel could ask for and it hurts that you can't see that."

Mapi could only cry, too conflicted to even try and decide what was true.

"Ale said I needed to talk to you, to fix things. Because I don't want you to hate me and I definitely don't hate you. But Ingrid, we can't just be friends, you know that."

She looked up at the Norwegian, who easily noticed the anguish all over her face.

"Why don't we try? See where it takes us. We can figure it out together, Mapi, you don't have to do everything alone."

She nodded, trying to convince the both of them that they could try.

And Mapi nodded hesitantly.

"Isabel does like you."

Ingrid chuckled quietly, nodding.

"Not as much as she loves you. She was asking for you about 2 minutes after we left. You are so good to her."

Mapi smiled, leaning into Ingrid's embrace.

"I don't think I can be just friends with you, Ingrid. I think that's why I've been so upset."

Ingrid hummed in agreement, waiting for her to continue.

"I've been so worried about losing you and so worried about being distracted from Is. But I don't think I ever could be, I don't think you'd ever let me be."

The Norwegian chuckled.

"I don't think she'd ever let you, she loves the attention too much."

And just like that, Mapi knew.

Ingrid was the right person, the person Alexia had been going on about for years, since before Isabel was even considered.

"And Mapi?"

Mapi looked up, her eyes meeting Ingrid's.

"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you either."

She smiled, placing her hand around Mapi's neck and drawing her close.

Mapi leaned in closer and waited for Ingrid to finally close that small gap.

And then Ingrid's lips were on hers, a promise, a declaration of love.

And Mapi made another promise to herself, right then and there.

She would never let Ingrid go.

~~~~~~

right so that’s the end! hope you’ve enjoyed so far!

not the end of Isabel Leon because I already have a few requests for her that have been thought about or planned (some of them)

I also have the blurb of her at the Olympics (2032) doing her sport that nobody has guessed so I’ll give you an obvious clue - it’s an action sport lol

I’m considering putting her in something else too but they’re like polar opposite disciplines so let me know if you think yes or no

and please send me requests because I want to write more about Isabel!

thanks for reading and for the love on this story, you’ve made me cry from all the nice messages

have a good day :)

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[nnon0]

JJH fic recs #3

previous fic recs : 1. 2.

note: hey yall ik it’s been a while ive been busy with life and truth be told, it’s been getting pretty hard to find good fics to recommend cuz i feel like ive read them all 😭😭😭 anyway jaehyun’s SOLO REVIVED ME SO IM BACK 😜 but im prob just gonna keep updating and adding to this post with fics and not make anymore posts so everytime yall come back there’s gonna be new fics AND PLS RECOMMEND SOME FICS AS WELL

(🫀) - personal faves

(🫀) TRY AGAIN @kaleidohscopic

WC:32.4k

exes to lovers, coworkers! au

if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side.

summer of seven years @lebrookestore

WC:30k

summer!au writer!jaehyun

Coming back home was hard for both you and Jaehyun, but when you realize both of you are back in the same place again, feelings from three years ago rise to the surface, and you start to realize that the things you thought you knew when you were younger never quite played out.

(🫀)His love, Her force @anashins

WC:28k

Undercover detective!jaehyun x ballerina!reader , fake marriage au, slow burn

Fleeing from a ruthless stalker, you are forced to participate in a witness protection program at the other side of the world, pretending to be the wife of a taciturn undercover detective from now on. Despite all differences, you slowly start to settle with your new life as a married couple - until your newfound happiness is stripped away from you all over again.

(🫀) BAD HABITS @jaedore

WC:21k

Boxer!jaehyun

You were never really good at saying ‘no’ to people, always a people pleaser, listening to your teachers, parents, to authority. Jung Jaehyun is a professional boxer attempting to make it to the top with the help of your father, who used to be a well known boxer. Being in a friends with benefits relationship with Jaehyun would be the last thing you’d find yourself in-you’re always focused on finishing college, studying hard, and sticking to yourself. With you pushing your feelings down for him and him focused on other things, you’re already in too deep to pull out of this complication. When will it be too much? When is your breaking point?

(🫀) cynosure - a focal point of admiration @drquinzelharleen

WC:20.4k

surgeon!jaehyun , enemies-to-lovers

When the young hot shot doctor, Jung Jaehyun, has been solicited to your hospital. He is to become the new Chief of Surgery. Your excitement and curiosity are soon to be washed away by his cocky disposition.

no guidance @yutaholic

WC:20k

knocked up, smut, pregnancy au

You insist on keeping things casual with Jaehyun, even though he wants something more serious, but then you miss a period and in an instant, your lives are turned completely upside down.

happy now? @hwaflms

wc: 19.9k

ex!jaehyun, fake dating au

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

(🫀) ordinary people @ppangjae

WC: 18.3k

friends-to-lovers, fake dating!au, ceo!jaehyun

Jaehyun’s parents are coming home for Christmas and he may have made the biggest mistake of telling them he has a ‘girlfriend’. Insert you, his best friend, who so happens to be the only girl he knows and trusts. You, on the other hand, would have never expected Jaehyun to show up at your door at two in the morning with nothing but a proposition; to be his fake girlfriend. And man, are you in big trouble.

(🫀)ethereal @celestialmark

WC: 16.7k

fluff, life lessons

(note: shed a tear reading this it was so beautiful i highly highly recommend)

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside

(🫀)SUN&MOON @ppangjae

WC:14.6k

enemies-to-lovers, fake dating

Asking Jeong Jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week Christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. One can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

(🫀) chasing stars, losing you @prodbymaui

WC: 14k

exes to lovers, ceo!jaehyun x model!reader

When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

(🫀) if we were a movie @sehunniepotwrites

WC:14k

childhood friends to lovers!au , college au , theatre/drama au

For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

oops, baby (i love you) @prodbymaui

WC:12.5k+

modern royalty au, arranged marriage

you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

deadly kiss @slightlymore

WC: 12k+

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

in your court @boymeetsweevil

WC:10.8k

basketball player!jaehyun , bff!haechan

Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

coparenting @eleganzadellarosa

wc: 10.3k

angst, fluff smut

babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

(🫀)SEVEN LETTERS @ppangjae

WC: 10.1k+

soulmate!au , childhood friends-to-lovers , slight fake dating

On a camping trip, you find a message in a bottle that’s been washed up the shore, only to find out that it’s a message from you in the future. Your message tells you three things:

1. You must make Jeong Jaehyun fall in love with you because,

2. He’s your soulmate and

3. Because of your future self’s mistake, he ended up falling in love with someone else.

the wedding @jae-canikeepyou

WC:9.5k

rivals!jaehyun fluff-crackish

jeong jaehyun’s your long-time friend, and as far as one could remember, every single and little thing you both do ends to a competition; it turned into a permanent kind of relationship you have for over a decade now. no one expects that it would ever change, not until a childhood friend of yours from high school decides to make you two as his singers for his upcoming wedding.

one more time @moondustis

WC:9.4k

smut, friends to lovers

Maybe this right here is a story about growing up and finding yourself, or about finding love and being vulnerable. But it definitely is a story about friendship, skating, pancakes and Jung Jaehyun learning how to deal with his feelings.

(🫀) rose bud @hazyhae

WC:9.2k

stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun , smut

friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.

baby @moonctzeny

wc:9.1k

college au, fake dating!au

When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

when fratboy falls @gyeomsweetgyeom

WC: 8.9k

fratboy!jaehyun x tutor!reader

Jaehyun is a fratboy with a notorious reputation for being a playboy, you have never heard of him. surely, he can use tutoring as an excuse to get close to you, right?

hello again, my sunshine @alluringjae

WC:8.5k

high school reunion!au, business lawyer!jaehyun, fashion designer!reader, high school best friends to strangers to lovers!au

there’s no more running away when you’re thriving in the fashion industry, yet it’s exactly what you want to do when you encounter your first love after a decade in your high school reunion.

(🫀) The lies of apollo @jaevie

WC:8k

Spy!jaehyun x spy!reader , forbidden love , smut , enemies to lovers

As powerful corporations seek to sun privatization, two spies find themselves falling in love and discovering the wonders of physical affection.

Head over Broomsticks @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 3.5k

Hogwarts!au Sports!au Quidditch!au Gryffindor!jaehyun

When your friends are tired of watching you and your crush go around in circles, they take matters into their own hands. Putting their Advanced Potions skills to the test, Donghyuck and Chenle conjure up a powerful truth serum and slip it in your drink right before a Quidditch game, which leads to a few inappropriate comments about No. 77, Jeong Jaehyun, of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. This would’ve been fine if you were just a regular spectator but you are much more than that--you’re the Announcer and everyone is subjected to hear your unfiltered thoughts. Just great.

SERIES

(🫀) when icarus falls @baobaojng

college athlete!au , crush!au

(note: this series genuinely brought me to tears btw I HIGHLY RECOMMEND )

some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

[corruptedcaps]

Transfusion Confusion

The following story is inspired by a prompt from the great @misseviehyde

---

Emma tossed in her hospital bed trying to sleep but she knew from weeks of being there that it would be futile. It wasn't the bed or the room itself, which was relatively nice for a hospital, that kept her from sleeping. No it was her long prolonged illness that gave her insomnia.

Emma had been in an out of hospitals since she was young. She had a rare condition that would strike at anytime. It wasn't life threatening but it made being a functional adult nearly impossible. She would spend weeks like this alone in the hospital getting her body pumped full of steroids and hormones to return her body to normality.

Her condition made having a social life basically impossible. As a result she didn't have any friends, had never had a boyfriend, and even her parents had ran off when she was four. It was a pretty pitiful existence but it was the only one she knew.

The door creaked open, and Rita, a kind and friendly nurse Emma had known for years, walked in, pushing a bed with a comatose woman on it. The woman, despite her unconscious state, was strikingly beautiful, her features sharp and flawless.

Emma sat up, confused. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to wake you Emma. We're running out of space, and I hope you don’t mind if we put Veronica in here for now. She’s been comatose for a while, so she won’t cause any trouble. If she ever wakes up, that's when the trouble would start." Rita said with a tired smile.

"Why? What's her deal?" Emma said looking at the blonde haired beauty.

"You never heard of Veronica Steele before? Well count yourself lucky. She's a real piece of work. A week after she married the richest guy in town, her new husband fell mysteriously to his death. Of course no one could prove it was her but she didn't make it secret she enjoyed inheriting everything he had." Rita said as she hooked Veronica's bed up to the sensors.

"So how'd she end up in a coma?" Emma asked intrigued.

"Oh she partied a little too hard and over dosed. She loved to let loose any chance she could and she did it often. She broke up so many good relationships. That's why everyone called her the homewrecking queen. Although I know some who called her the Whorewrecker." Rita said blunted. She looked over at a shocked Emma.

"I'm sorry Emma, it's been a long shift, I don't know what I'm saying. I'll just hook up her IV and I'll be out of your hair. She'll only be here temporary, I promise." Rita said going back to finishing up.

Emma sighed and lay back down, pulling the thin hospital blanket up to her chest as Rita moved around the room. She closed her eyes as the nurse placed Veronica’s bag in the closet beside her bed and began setting up the IV drip.

Rita, clearly exhausted, fumbled with the tubing for a moment. Without a second thought, she connected Veronica to the same IV bag Emma was already attached to, her tired mind too clouded to notice the mistake.

"There we go," Rita mumbled, stepping back with a satisfied nod before quietly leaving the room.

As the room settled into silence, a soft bubbling sound came from the IV bag. A strange pink liquid began to seep from Veronica's drip, mixing with the clear solution. Slowly, it flowed down the tube, snaking its way toward Emma’s arm, the liquid now entering her bloodstream unnoticed.

As the minutes ticked by, Emma began to feel a strange sensation coursing through her body. What started as a faint warmth soon blossomed into a surge of energy, filling her veins with a vitality she had never felt. Her frail limbs, once thin and weak, began to fill out, muscles tightening and expanding beneath her skin.

Opening her eyes she watched in awe as her arms and legs transformed, growing stronger, more defined. The sensation was intoxicating, a rush of pure, exhilarating strength, but the best was yet to come.

Emma’s gaze dropped to her chest as a tingling sensation spread through her. Her boobs, once modest and unremarkable, began to swell, growing larger with each passing breath. She gasped as they expanded beyond anything she had ever seen on another woman, full and heavy, straining against her hospital gown.

Emma's eyes drifted to the IV connected to her arm. The pink liquid was pumping in rhythm into her body. She followed the tubing up to the bag and back over to the lifeless Veronica.

She noticed with shock that Veronica’s once voluptuous body had become gaunt and frail. Her once full tits had shrunk to barely noticeable proportions. The life force, the very essence of Veronica’s power, was being siphoned into her.

Instinctively, Emma reached to remove the IV, but just as her fingers touched the line, a seductive voice echoed in her mind saying "Don’t!"

The voice seemed at once comforting and commanding. Desirable and demanding. It continued.

"Veronica has no use for her beauty trapped in that coma. It would be such a waste to not use it, don't you think?" The voice purred in Emma’s mind.

Emma’s hand hovered over the IV, trembling. She knew she should take it out in hopes to reverse whatever was happening but she couldn't deny how increasing good she was feeling.

"She had her fun, isn't it time you had some of your own? Isn't it time you got to feel alive?" The voice continued. She tried to resist, tried to shake off the influence of the voice, but the logic it offered was undeniable. Why should Veronica have a perfect body when she was nothing more than a shell?

"After all the years of being weak and pathetic, haven't you earned this? Don't you deserve this?" The voice hissed pleasantly.

Despite herself, Emma felt her lips curl into a smirk, the seductive reasoning taking hold. The voice was right. She did deserve this. Why not take what was freely flowing into her veins?

Emma let out a slow breath and lay back down on the bed, sinking into the thin mattress, as the changes continued to ripple through her body. Her once dull and lifeless hair began to shimmer with health, growing longer, thicker, and cascading down her shoulders in luxurious waves.

Her lips, which had always been chapped and thin, plumped into a full, sensuous pout. Emma ran her tongue over them, feeling their newfound softness, a wicked smile tugging at the corners.

She held her hand out and watched as her nails, once brittle and short, lengthened and hardened into perfectly painted manicured talons. She ran her hands over her new tits with pleasure, giving them a joyful squeeze.

Her body was red hot with desire for her own form and she needed release. Pushing her hands further south, she slipped them under her hospital gown. Had she'd known how good long nails felt in her pussy she would have had them done every week.

She let out a moan of carnal delight as her fingers got soaked with her own juices. She watched in glee as her all blemishes on her skin started to erase. Her pale complexion began to tan, erasing the years spend inside under fluorescents.

As her body transformed, so too did her mind. Her sweet and caring nature, moulded by years of loneliness and illness, was getting corrupted. Where once she desired human connection now it sickened her. She didn't need anyone, not when she was superior to them.

She felt an overwhelming surge of narcissism, a belief that she was better than everyone else, more beautiful, more powerful. Her thoughts turned mean, dismissive of others. Vanity and arrogance took root, feeding off her new obvious beauty. The voice in her head was no longer an intruder. It was a reflection of her own desires.

"Yesssss! I feel so fucking alive!" She groaned as she continued to pump herself. She watched with an evil grin as the last of the pink liquid flowed into her body. She timed her climax to that moment perfectly and with one swift motion, she ripped the IV from her arm, feeling the rush of her transformation, her orgasm, and the last of Veronica's essence in one.

Emma swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, feeling the solid strength in her legs. She leaned over backwards, catching herself on the ground and flipping back onto her feet with ease. She wasn't just cured, she had evolved.

Each step toward Veronica was deliberate, confident. She stood over the frail, unconscious woman, a sneer curling her lips. Veronica had all the imperfections that once plagued Emma. Thinning weak hair, pockmarked skin, unathletic limbs, unremarkable beauty.

Emma turned to Veronica's closet and eagerly ripped it open. She began rifling through the expensive clothes and luxurious belongings. She pulled out designer dresses, delicate lingerie, and sparkling jewelry, tossing them onto the bed with a satisfied smirk. Each item felt like another piece of the life she was meant to have, now finally hers.

However she found the biggest prize inside a designer bag. Pulling out her wallet, Emma grinned at the plethora of credit cards just crying out to be used and abused. She took out Veronica's ID and stood in front of the mirror with it next to her.

"Yes of course I'm Veronica Steele, how dare you question me. I'll have you fired for even speaking to me worm." She said with a natural bratty tone that she knew would have everyone convinced she was Veronica in no time.

However out of the corner of her eye she saw something unexpected. Veronica was stirring. The transfer must have some how knocked her out of her coma. However Emma was not about to give up a life she had barely tasted. Picking up the pillow from her bed, Emma walked calmly but coldly over to Veronica.

---

Rita was having her 7th coffee of her shift, fighting against her drooping eyelids when the code blue alarm started to go off for Emma's room. The shock of the alarm was like taking seven coffees at once.

Rushing to the room she got in just time to see a blonde bombshell pulling the bedsheet over Veronica.

"I'm sorry nurse but the little urchin girl who was in here with me is gone. I think Emma was her name." Said the blonde, turning around with a face that conveyed no hint of sadness.

Despite her extreme transformation and the fact that she was in Veronica's designer clothes, Rita was not fooled by who the blonde was.

"Emma? What happened? You look…" Rita said before being cut off by Emma.

"Nurse Rita, you are delirious with exhaustion. I am Veronica Steele." Emma said, her voice smooth as silk but carrying a hint of menace.

"I don't know what has happened or what you have done to the real Veronica but it's ok we can fix this." Rita said bewildered but trying to get a grasp on the situation.

"Nurse you forget your place and you forget who you are talking to! I will buy this hospital and turn it into a landfill if you keep talking like this." Emma said, her ire palpaple. And yet Rita could not condone what was happening.

"No, this isn't right, I can't...." Rita said trailing off as Emma slowly approached her intimating her.

"Listen here you fucking cunt. You will report the unremarkable death of Emma Smith. You will also report on my miraculous recovery, Veronica Steele. If you don't I will see you hang for the death of that useless bag of bones laying over there. Understand?" Emma said with a whisper that was somehow more intense than her shouting.

Rita looked up at fear at the woman she had taken care of for years, seeing no part of her left.

"Y-yes... of course." Rita said trembling.

"Yes what?" Emma said starting to smirk.

"Y-yes... Ms. Steele." Rita replied. Emma satisfied and more than a little bit aroused at hearing her new name, stood back from Rita in triumphant.

"Good. Now go order me a fucking car." Emma said, turning her smirk into a cold pout. Rita quickly scurried out of the room.

Emma walked over to the closet and picked up the bag that contained the begins of her new life. She stepped over to the door and took one last look where the real Veronica lay.

"I wish I could say I was sorry, but that wouldn't be very Veronica of me." She said with a cackle as she left the room.

THE END

[library-ghoulette]

Now There Is Nothing Between Us

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: second person POV, established relationship, VHS and chill, their first time, my kink is being loved and wanted, crying, reference to past heartbreak, hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual fantasies, pillow princess!Reader, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, p in v sex, coming inside (please fuck responsibly), Copia being tender, Copia fucking the self-doubt right out of you

Words: 2435

Summary: Anxieties about your first time with Copia rear their head at the worst possible moment, but luckily he knows just how to ease your fears.

A/N: I wrote this because I was stressing out about writing sex scenes for the first time in a long time, and I thought it might help to have my favorite Papa sweetly talk me through it. This was supposed to just be for me, but I'm sharing it for anyone else who needs a therapy session with their smut.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

“Amore mio, what’s wrong?”

The question takes you by surprise. You were mid-kiss when Copia pulled back, his mismatched eyes searching yours with concern.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” you stammer, reaching for him again, eager to pull him back in, keep his mouth occupied, so he can ask no more questions.

But he stubbornly avoids your advances, catching your hands in his and holding them between the two of you, restrained. He settles onto the pillow beside you, face-to-face.

“You think I know you so little that you can lie to me?” he asks. “That I can’t feel it when you’re all stiff?”

He pulls his shoulders up and grimaces in a comically horrified expression that makes you smile in spite of yourself, but still you say nothing, merely look down at where he holds your hands clasped in his much larger, much stronger, ones. He runs a reassuring thumb over your knuckles.

It was supposed to be a special night. At long last, it was supposed to be the night.

The two of you had gone from stealing glances at one another in the halls of the Abbey, to sharing friendly movie nights where you sat on opposite sides of the couch, both too timid to make a move, to significantly friendlier movie nights that devolved into heated kisses long before the end credits even rolled.

Each night, there would come a moment where the kiss would break, when a heavy pause descended and there came an unspoken question that you knew you had to answer.

Every night before, the answer has been no. You would remark on the lateness of the hour and go back to your own room. And there you lay awake, burning with thoughts of all of the things you could have done if only you had stayed. All the places where Copia could kiss you, could touch you, as you touched yourself.

But not tonight. This time, when that silent question made itself known, the answer had been yes. You had stayed, followed Copia to his bed, let him lay you down with a gentleness that spoke of brutal desire barely contained. Pressed yourself against him, returned his kisses, helped him shrug out of his sweatshirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head with obvious eagerness. You had thought that you were doing well, doing it right.

Apparently, you had been wrong.

Great. Now you’re on the verge of tears. Very sexy. Definitely not a surefire way to spoil the mood.

Copia is still looking at you, his unpainted face soft, searching, utterly open. You don’t deserve his attentiveness, his care. It makes you want to hide.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He kisses your knuckles. “You are maybe having second thoughts?”

“No! No, I– I really want to do this.”

“But something is bothering you. And we’re not doing anything until you tell me what that is. Until we fix it.”

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just let it go? 

“Tesoro, you can tell me anything. You know this.”

Copia has never given you a reason to distrust him, has never judged you or made you feel silly for any of your anxieties. Still, you struggle to put this into words. 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess?”

I sound so dumb.

“It’s okay to be nervous! Is this…”--he casts about for a tactful phrasing–”your first time?”

Satanas, it just gets worse and worse.

“No, it’s not my first time. But it’s been… awhile.”

“What’s the saying? Something about riding a bicycle?”

But in truth, it’s more than just the fact that it’s been awhile. Things did not end well with the last person you chose to share yourself with. 

You’ve worked so hard to heal from that relationship, not reinventing yourself so much as peeling back layers of hurt, finding yourself again bit by bit. You’re better now. But even after all of that healing, after finding your place here with the Ministry, after the wonderful surprise of falling for Copia, the scars of the past have a way of lingering.

Maybe the deepest of those scars is the lingering suspicion that no matter what you do, no one will ever truly want you or love you again. And worse, that you can’t trust anyone who claims that they do.

“It’s just.. I’ve imagined this so many times, and I guess I’ve gotten a bit too in my head about it. Wanting it to be perfect. And I’m afraid of doing something wrong. Of not”--and here’s the heart of it, the scary, vulnerable thing that you don’t want to admit–“of not being good enough for you.”

And now you are crying, when all you wanted to do was fuck your boyfriend like a normal person.

“Oh, topina.” Copia pulls you close, rolling onto his back to nestle you snug against his chest. “How could you ever think that you’re not good enough?”

“But you could have anyone you want,” you sob.

“You flatter me,” Copia chuckles. “But say that is true. I can have anyone I want. And where am I right now?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. And who am I with?”

You sniffle. “Me?”

“Yes, you. And there is no one else I would rather be with. You are so precious to me. I feel lucky to have you in my bed.”

Your heart flutters at his tender words.

“And what I want, more than anything, is to make you feel good. To give you the pleasure that you deserve.”

Something considerably lower flutters at that.

“Copia…” 

You wriggle out of his grasp and pull yourself up onto one elbow, one hand resting lightly on his chest as you bend to kiss him again. 

When you break away, he thumbs a stray tear from your cheek and insists, “But I only want to do that if you’re comfortable. So you have to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, yes?”

You nod down at him. “Yes, Papa.”

He groans low in his throat at your cheeky use of his title, the sound stoking something low in your belly.

“You said that you have been thinking about this night for a long time, tesoro?” 

His hand, resting against your hip, grips you tighter, drawing you closer against him. When he speaks, his words resonate with a note of command. 

“Tell me what you’ve imagined. Tell me how to make this perfect for you.”

This should be mortifying. It should, more than anything else he’s said tonight, activate your urge to run away, to hide. It’s been so long since you’ve really given yourself permission to want, to desire, much less to voice those desires full-throated, absent of shame. You’re so afraid of sounding silly. Of being too much.

But you can tell how turned on he is by you, by the way that your body feels pressed against his, fuck, by the very thought of you entertaining filthy daydreams about him. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

And so, you push past the shame you have no need to carry any longer, that you never should have been made to carry at all.

Even if you stammer at first. Even if you don’t sound as confident as you wish you did. You find your voice.

“I– I’ve thought about you touching me?”

Copia brings a hand up to caress your face, tracing a feather-light line from cheekbone to chin. “Here?” he asks.

“Lower,” you reply.

“Ah.” His hand trails lower, making you shiver as his fingers skirt along your neck, your collarbone, before finally cupping your breast through your top. “How about here?”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp when he squeezes gently, his thumb sweeping across your nipple. Almost as an afterthought he wedges one thigh between your legs. Even through fabric the contact sends a pulse straight to your core, and you can’t help but grind against him with a whimper.

“What do I do next? In your fantasies?”

“You take off my clothes.” You’re desperate to feel his skin on yours. “And– and you lay me down on the bed.”

He flips you over effortlessly and takes his time undressing you, carefully undoing each button and zipper, revealing your body bit by bit with utmost tenderness. When he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulls the silky fabric down your hips, your legs, exposing you completely, he does so with what could never be mistaken for anything but reverence.

Your legs fall open naturally and Copia kneels between them, resting his hands on your thighs, awaiting instruction.

“And now?”

You know that you can have anything you want, but only if you ask for it.

It’s everything you can do to keep your voice steady when you say, barely above a whisper, “And then you go down on me.”

“With pleasure, amore.”

Copia settles himself between your thighs and presses a hand against your mound, firm and grounding, acclimating you to his touch before spreading your lips with skilled fingers and bringing his mouth down to meet your slit. He runs the flat of his tongue up through your slick folds, lapping up your arousal. When you look down at him, he meets your gaze and flicks his tongue over your clit, smirking when you blush and cry out in pleasure.

And then he begins his work in earnest.

You had imagined that it would be good, but your daydreams left you unprepared for this level of skill, for how he would relax into the task before him with a patient eagerness, savoring you, taking the time to bring you ever closer to your peak. 

“Fingers,” you beg, barely coherent, “I need your fingers, please, please, Copia– oh!”

He finds your entrance and presses a finger inside of you, never losing the rhythm of his tongue tracing tight circles around your clit. You’re soaked, and it slides in and out with ease, and it feels so good to have any part of him inside of you, even before he pulls out and then presses back in with another digit, crooking his fingers up to find that spot deep inside of you, hitting it just so as he sucks your nub between his lips, and you’re crying out and twisting your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, and–

Your orgasm overtakes you ruthlessly, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking over you, leaving you a gasping, trembling mess in its wake. Copia crawls up your body to kiss you, letting you taste your own musky sweetness on his tongue.

“Do you want to hear what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks.

You’re unsure of your ability to speak, but you nod eagerly. You’ve never wanted to hear anything more.

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“M-my hands?”

“Sì, your beautiful hands. And how good they would feel wrapped around me.”

How could you do anything in that moment but oblige, reaching down to free him from the confines of his red sweatpants. His cock springs free, what seems almost painfully hard, and you watch with satisfaction as you pump your fist up and down his thick length and pleasure nearly overtakes him. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s clearly struggling to hold back, to stop himself from rutting into your soft palm and coming right now. 

“I’ve also been thinking about your pussy, dolcezza,” he pants. “How good it would taste. How pretty you would look playing with it for me. But mostly what it would feel like to spread it open and fuck it until you come around my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg, feeling as though you might die if you don’t get to feel him inside you right now.

The stretch is deliciously intense, even as wet as you are, prepared by his fingers and his tongue. He works himself into you inch by careful, patient inch, until he bottoms out with a groan.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and you nod your assent, whimpering a “yes” as you wrap your legs around his soft waist, urging him on.

You open more and more with each slow, shallow thrust that becomes faster, deeper. There is no room for your self-doubt anymore, no thought to spare for anything that isn’t Copia: his weight on top of you, his mouth against the side of your neck, the scent of his cologne mingling with the salty tang of sweat, the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside of you. 

He murmurs your name with what sounds like wonder, like disbelief that you want this and that you feel so fucking good.

And then he rolls his hips just so, finding an angle that grinds his pelvis into your clit, making you cry out sharply.

“Just like that,” you beg him, breathless, “please don’t stop, please—“

And then you are coming apart again, your head thrown back and your pussy spasming beyond your control.

It’s almost too much for him. He rears back from you, gathering you more firmly in hand, tilting your hips up and gripping your ass to hold you in place as he fucks into you, hard and rough. You’re still reeling from your orgasm as his pace becomes erratic, desperate, and with a sharp snap of his hips his cock kicks inside of you, filling you utterly.

He pulls out and collapses beside you with a sated groan, forearm thrown over his eyes as he comes down, chest heaving, spent cock softening against the curve of his belly. You fold yourself in under his arm, head pillowed against his chest again in a semblance of how you lay earlier as you cried. But now all you feel is love, comfort, and the pleasant soreness creeping through your lower body.

“Well, tesoro…” He settles his arm around you, tracing lazy circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. His voice is unspeakably fond when he asks, “Was that everything you imagined?”

It wasn’t, of course. Your daydreams hadn’t started with you crying awkwardly in his arms. In your daydreams, everything had run as smoothly as a scene in a novel, you the assertive heroine who always knew exactly what to say, without any help.

But maybe, you think, if Copia is the one helping you, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t need to be anyone but yourself, sometimes awkward and insecure, but no less beloved.

And so you are telling the truth when you say, “No. It was better.”

[starsinthesky5]

you are in love IV || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe are embarking on a weeks long trip to France for work, Cannes being your first stop

a/n: okay so this was way longer than planned but i could not stop adding to it LOL. hope you guys love it ;)

also, I tried something new and added a little instagram bit to the fic at the end! not sure how I feel about it yet, but I’m kinda digging it? that kinda thing will be in the next few fics but it’s not a regular thing :) just for the upcoming bit

word count: 17.1 k (i genuinely didn’t intend for this to be this long oh my god)

warnings: language, smut, you both are HORNY

you are in love series masterlist (has all previous parts)

———————————————————

“Did you pack everything?” you asked Joe for what felt like the 100th time as you grabbed your phone and tote bag before leaving the garage. 

“Yes, I packed everything,” he rolled his eyes as he closed the car trunk. You had been on Joe for the past 4 days making sure that everything was settled for your week-long trip to France and although he loved you and your mom-like antics when it came to trips, he was getting a bit irritated with the constant ‘are you packed?’ and ‘did you get everything?’ questions. 

“I just want to make sure we have everything since we’ll be gone for a week,” you smile as you place your stuff in the car’s passenger seat.

“We have everything, I promise,” he chuckles as he punches in the code to close the garage before walking closer to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re the one that is used to all the international traveling, so why are you the one that’s stressing out?”. 

“Because this trip is important for you,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I just want to make sure everything is perfect,”. 

“It is perfect. The fact that you’re coming with me makes all of this even more perfect,” he says as he kisses your lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile. “We’re going to have sooo much fun at the events and around the city,”.

“Around the city? Absolutely. At the events? Probably not,” he sighs, his smile faltering, 

You watched as his smile dropped a bit, most likely because of the fact that Joe was not a fan of these types of things. He didn’t particularly enjoy public speaking, media events, or anything that required him to be out there. His anxiety would skyrocket in these kinds of situations but he still managed to put on a brave face and do what he had to do. This whole week was going to consist of that, and he was not looking forward to it. He was, however, looking forward to spending time with you in the beautiful French Riviera (which even you haven’t been to) and then the City of Love a few days later and you being with him was the only thing keeping him going. 

“Hey, I know this is not the most fun and ideal situation for you, but I’m so proud of you for putting yourself out there like this. I know talking in front of an audience is overwhelming but you’ve gotten a lot better at it and I know you can do it. Branching out is never easy, but you’re doing amazing so far. Getting to walk the freaking runway in Paris is absolutely insane and I am so fucking proud of you. I’ll be with you every step of the way, so if you need anything, I’m here,” you say as you brush a few of his curls out of his eyes. 

“Where have you been all my life,” Joe says as he slides his hand up and down your lower back. “I seriously could’ve used you in my corner back when I first came into the league because then all of this wouldn’t be so hard,”. 

You let out a soft laugh, “I’ve been right under your nose,” you say as you press a kiss to his nose. “The universe brought us to each other at the right time,”.

“I still can’t believe how many events we went to at the same time but never met until the White Party,” he chuckled. You and Joe had been around each other many times before the White Party, you just never knew that since your paths never crossed. You called it the “Invisible String Theory”. You could have walked past each other, you could have mutual friends, or even have been complete strangers and never had heard of each other, but the universe wouldn’t have you both meet until the exact moment that you needed each other in your lives.

“The universe knew when we needed each other,” you blushed. 

“The stars all aligned just for us,” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“I love that we have the universe on our side,” you said. “It’ll be good to get away from everything together, I think we deserve a break,”. 

“Damn right we do,” he laughs. “Can’t wait to be done with all the boring stuff and get to enjoy the fruits of my labor with my gorgeous girlfriend,”. 

“Oh yeah? What fruits will we be enjoying?” you say as you raise your eyebrow. 

“Hmm, I was thinking a boat day plus private sunset dinner on said boat, walking around the city with you without any crazed fans hounding us, and my personal favorite, the massive bedroom suite they’re hooking me up with that has a gigantic bed and a jacuzzi tub,” he winks. “If you’re picking up what I’m putting down,” he adds as you feel his hand fall down to your butt. 

“Ohhh,” you replied, a smirk appearing on your face. “It’s a great thing I packed extra Advil in my bag. I have a feeling I’ll need it,”.

“Oh, you will. I don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself since we have the big suite with nobody else on our floor. No neighbors in a foreign city is just an invitation to be as loud as we want” he whispers into your ear before moving past you to open up your door again, leaving you with a stunned expression on your face and butterflies in your stomach. Joe always kept you on your toes, something you needed in your life. He was equal parts affectionate, genuine, and lustful; the perfect lover and best friend at the same time. 

“Shall we Mon Amour?” He asks, squeezing in a bit of French that he memorized earlier.

You turn around and smile at Joe calling you ‘my love’ in French, “Oh, so we’re going full France now?”.

“It’s only fitting,” he shrugged. 

“Well then, we shall Mon Amant,” you grin, surprising him with a bit of French you picked up last time you went to France. 

“Hm?” he said with a confused look as he moved aside to let you in the car. 

“It means ‘My Lover’,” you giggle as you sit inside.

He leans down and meets your face, “Well then, Mon Amant, I can’t wait to do this trip with you,” he says before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and then closing your car door. You fell back into the seat, your cheeks a shade of red that only Joe could bring out.  

An hour later

After driving to the airport and loading everything onto the private jet, you get settled into the plane and are now on your way to France. You change into some more comfortable clothes since the flight is about 12 hours, Joe doing the same. 

“I hope you’re prepared to be on a plane for 12 hours,” you say as you sit down across from Joe. 

“If I go to sleep it’ll go by pretty fast,” he shrugs.

“And how do I keep myself entertained then?” you scoff as you lightly kick his foot. 

“There is a bed back there for a reason you know,” he winks as he points back to the small bedroom. “We can both go to ‘sleep’ for a bit,” he says as he makes air quotes around ‘sleep’.

“We’ve been on here for 20 minutes and you’re already horny,” you laugh. 

“Can’t help it when I’m around you,” he says with a smirk on his face. “You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen so naturally the level of testosterone will skyrocket”. 

“Anywayyy,” you say, trying to change the subject before you fold because of his words and end up in the bedroom. “I’m excited to come with you to the Sport Beach events. I can’t wait to see you on the panels all professional and social,”.

“Really? I thought you’d be bored of sitting there listening to me talk about branding and media for god knows how long,” he said.

“It may be a little boring, but I love watching you do your thing,” you smile as you pull out your water bottle to take a sip before handing it to Joe.

“My thing is playing football, not sitting at a panel and talking to strangers in front of an audience,” he says as he takes a sip of water. 

“I know you hate these kinda things but I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there. I know how overwhelming it can get when you have a thousand eyes on you dissecting every little thing you say”. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess this is the price of what we do,”.

“At least we have each other now,” you say as you reach for his hand across the table between you both. 

“Thank god,” he groans, making you laugh at his facial expression. “Having someone that gets me and understands the kind of spotlight on me really makes all the difference,”.

“I feel the same way,” you say as you kiss his hand. “You get me and I get you,”.

“We’re like two peas in a pod,” he smiles.

“Precisely,” you nod. You understood the pedestal that Joe was on and everything that came along with what he did, and he understood the same for you. Although what you both did was extremely different, you still had a deep understanding of one another on that level. 

“Did you think more about how we’re going to make ourselves official as a couple to the public?” he asked, his face scrunching up as soon as the words left his mouth. “That sounds so fucking weird,” he laughed.

“Tell me about it,” you giggled. 

Before your trip, you and Joe had talked about what you would do if and when people started to spot you around Cannes or Paris. You weren’t expecting a lot of attention since you were in a foreign country, but you were sure you were going to get some since a lot of athletes & industry people were going to be in France this week. You had a pretty big international reach as well, but still weren’t expecting people to notice you that much since nobody usually bothered you. The public already saw you at a few games in January but there was no real confirmation as to what was going on between you two, just some rumors and speculation. You had been together for about 9 months now and it had been 9 months of pure joy and love. You had been lucky enough to have the leisure of getting to know each other and building your relationship away from prying eyes, and now that you two were at a point in your relationship where you were okay with letting people in (only a little bit though), you had to figure out a way to do so before that right was taken away against your will.

“I don’t really know to be honest. I haven’t really ever had the comfort of ever sharing my relationships on my own terms,” you say as you roll your eyes, remembering how the public was so invested in your private life that it was incredibly difficult to keep things such as your relationship a secret. “This is new territory for me,” you say as you smile again as you think about how you and Joe’s relationship was different than any other relationship you’d been in before. 

This relationship was private. For once it was just yours. 

It wasn’t placed on a silver platter like every other relationship and presented to the public for them to pick at it or dissect every piece of it. You and Joe had kept your love away from all the interloper’s glances and unwanted opinions so that your relationship could flourish naturally, which it was. It was more than flourishing, it was blossoming into something special. 

The fact that you two were in a spot in your relationship where you didn’t mind willingly opening the window a little bit was exciting. You’d never had the opportunity to do it on your own terms, and now you had the chance to. You both were ready to share it with others. 

“I say, just wear a shirt that says Burrow’s Girlfriend, and I’ll wear one that says Y/N’s Boyfriend,” he laughed.

Joe’s laughter was the greatest sound you had ever heard. The way his nose would scrunch up and the crinkles would form around his eyes when he laughed was the most adorable sight in the world, and you got to see it whenever you wanted. 

“That would be hilarious,” you said as you started imagining it. You couldn’t really come up with any real ideas on how to approach the subject of going official, the only one really making sense was to just be spotted together.

“I mean, I’ll be at your panels in Cannes and with you during Fashion Week, that should be enough for people to get a hint,” you smile. “I’m sure we’ll get a good amount of headlines and front cover photos when they get the hint,”. 

“That’s true,” he nodded. “Maybe an Instagram Post too? So that they understand that it’s not just a fling, a Hard Launch is what they call it I guess. Unless that’s a lot for you,”. Joe didn’t want to pressure you into anything, knowing how your past relationships were so public and what the negative effects were for them being so open. Posting each other on Instagram was a pretty big deal since everyone could see it and since you two were pretty private. Joe had always been private with his personal life and you had started to as well over the past few years once you realized what being open truly means. 

“It’s not too much for me,” you grin. “I know how I feel about you and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it,”. 

The fact that those words were coming out of your mouth was insane, but it was true. Joe brought out that side of you that you tucked away most of the time. That side of you that’s carefree, loose, and alive. 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said as he felt himself melt away from your reassuring smile. 

“Thank you for making me feel that way,” you wink.

Joe gave you a lazy smile as he felt his tiredness settle in, his eyes feeling a bit heavy. 

“You can go back there and take a nap if you want,” you say, noticing his sleepiness. “I’ll join you in a bit. I just need to call my manager for a bit to talk about the Grammys next month,”. 

One of the biggest nights of your career, the illustrious Grammy Awards, was next month and you were up for 3 awards. You were nominated for Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, and Song of the Year for your last album's lead single ‘Is It Over Now?’. Turns out people loved an album about the most gut-wrenching breakup you’d ever experienced and related heavily to a song about an on-again off-again relationship that never had any clarity in it. 

“Ooo, fun,” he yawned as he stretched his arms out. “Isn’t this when you said you’d announce the new album?”.

“Hopefully. If all goes to plan and I win at least 1 of the 3 categories I’m nominated for, I’m going to announce ‘reputation’ then. If I don’t win, I’ll just drop the Instagram post announcement and leave it at that,”. 

“Reputation,” he says, the word rolling off of his tongue so nicely. “I’ll never get over that name, it’s so sick,” he says. “I better still be getting one of those wristbands with the album name on it that you're selling for the album merch. I want to add it to my stack,” he said, pointing at his stack of wristbands he had on his wrist; all of which had a special meaning to him. Now he wanted to add another one, one for you. 

“Actually,” you smiled while reaching into your pocket, pulling out a black wristband that had the album name in white stamped on it with a green snake on the other side. “I got this a few days ago. First ever one,”.

“This is so sick,” he said as he looked at the band, taking it from your hand and slipping it onto his wrist. “Fits perfectly with the rest and now I’ll always have you with me. And I’ll get to rep the best album in the world every day,”.

“Aww, Joe,” you blushed. “I’m glad you like it since you were my muse for about 95% of it,” you say as you get up from your seat to grab your laptop to video chat with your manager. 

“The other 5% kills me,” he sighed. 

“I know, but to tell the story I had to add the not-so-happy stuff into it for it all to make sense,” you said as you opened your bag. 

“Fair point. I will say that even though ‘The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived’ is about someone and something I’d rather not talk about, it’s one of the best songs you’ve written,” he said, referring to your ex-boyfriend or situationship as you liked to call it. 

“I knew you’d like it,” you smiled.

“I mean you really came for his neck with the bridge,” he shrugged. “Badass behavior,”.

“Being a badass is fun sometimes,” you nodded. “Besides, I don’t care what he thinks. He knows what he did and deserves to be called out for it,”.

“I love it when you get petty,” he shakes his head out of admiration, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Wait so does this mean I get to go with you to the Grammys? Since I’m your muse?” he asked.

“You want to? Like for real?” you ask him as you start to play with your necklace, the letter “J” pendant Joe gave you for your 1 month anniversary. 

“Absolutely. I want to support you just like how you support me,” he said as he got up from his seat and walked over to you. “Besides, I want to see everyone’s reaction when you sweep all 3 categories and announce next year's album of the year all in one go,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be lucky if I even win 1 category,” you replied as you stared at your feet. “Having you with me would mean the world though,”.

He moved his hand under your chin, lifting your face up so that you were looking into his eyes. “You’re going to win, trust me. And now that I’m going with you, I’ll make sure of it,”.

“What are you going to do? Swap the names?” you giggle. 

“Something like that,” he winked. 

“I can’t wait to see you try,” you say as you lean in to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck and his around your waist. 

After holding the kiss for a few moments, you pull away. “You go take a nap and I’ll be there in a bit,” you say as you turn around to grab him a plush blanket from your bag. 

“You better hurry up,” he said as he grabbed the blanket, kissed your cheek, and started walking to the mini bedroom. 

“I will but no funny business, Burrow,” you warn him.

“We’ll see about that,” he mumbled before closing the door, leaving you with a radiant smile on your face and a serene feeling inside of you. 

A Half Hour later 

You wrapped up your exciting call with your manager before falling back into the seat and taking a deep breath. You had just finalized your album’s tracklist and release date and now it was starting to feel real. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so excited to release music since both times you had in the past were not very enjoyable. The release of your debut album had your stomach in knots for weeks before it came out as you were terrified that people wouldn’t enjoy it or that it wouldn’t do well. The release of your second album had you petrified at the thought of how the public would react to what the album was about. All you could think about was if what you wrote was too much and if people would resonate with your feelings or turn on you for trying to ‘push a narrative’.

When writing and working on both albums you were also second-guessing yourself every step of the way. Maybe it was because of the company around you, or maybe it was because of the things you were experiencing while working on them. This time, however, you were fully confident in what you were doing, not caring about what others thought or letting people’s opinions of you define your work. You were relaxed, enthusiastic, confident, and happy, it was the ‘Joe Effect’. 

You placed your laptop bag in your bag and then had a nice stretch before you walked over to the bedroom. You carefully opened the door, trying not to make any loud noises that would wake Joe up. You saw him sprawled out on the mattress, his mouth slightly open as you heard faint snores leaving his lips. 

You turned around and closed the door and when you looked back at Joe, his eyes were open and he was looking over at you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you softly said as you crawled into the bed next to him. 

“I dozed off for 5 minutes, it’s fine,” he said as he opened up the blanket and covered your legs with it. 

“Can’t sleep?” you asked him.

“Can’t sleep without you,” he smiled as he moved his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest. “What did you and your manager talk about?” he asked while he rubbed your shoulder.

“Tracklist and Release Date,” you smile as you tangle your legs with his and place your hand on his neck, rubbing his soft skin.

“Ah,” he nods. “How's it looking?”.

“Well, tracks 1-8 are all the unhappy things and stuff that led up to us meeting, track 9 is the start of the songs about us,” you beamed.

“Track 9? Real subtle,” he blushed.

“Track 9 deserves its time to shine which is also why it’s a lead single,” you smiled. 

“I feel so special,” he said, batting his eyelashes and fanning himself.

“Okayyy your majesty let’s come back down to earth,” you joked. “After that, there’s a long stretch of 9 songs just about us, then there’s like 3 songs about some other stuff and then the final 6 are about us as well,”.

Joe nodded and squeezed your hand, “What about the release date? When does the world get to hear the best album ever made?”.

You close your eyes and push your head into his neck, hiding the smile that Joe put on your face by once again complimenting you. 

You pull your head out a second later, butterflies in your stomach as you think about the release date. Not only was the release date the day you were releasing what was basically a diary of memories from the past 9 months, but it was also a special day for you and Joe. 

“July 4th,” you say as you meet his eyes. 

“The anniversary of the day we met,” he said to you, his eyes softening as he felt his heart gush.

“Mhm,” you blush. “One of the most special days of my life. Only fitting since I wrote so many songs about you and about that day,” you said. 

He gazed into your eyes for a few quiet moments, unable to come up with any other words to express his feelings other than, “I love you,”. 

And that was fine. You didn’t need him to say anything else because you knew how he felt about you. After all, he never failed to show you. Although it was just 3 words, he knew those 3 words meant the world to you, especially if they came from him. 

“I love you more than anyone in the world,” you say to him before you feel him lean in and kiss your lips. 

You pull him closer as the kiss quickly turns heated, Joe moving you down flat against the bed so that you are lying on your back and he is on top of you. You pulled away and laughed at how Joe looked like a child who just got candy taken away from them. 

“Hey, what was that for?” he grumbled.

“I said no funny business remember,” you said proudly, knowing the hold you had over him. 

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” he said as his eyes widened. “We’re on this plane for 12 hours and you really expect us to not have some fun,”.

“Watching movies is fun,” you grin. “Playing games is fun. Eating the snacks I bought is fun,”. 

He looked at you for a few seconds, a smirk on his face as his hand started rubbing your hip. “I could eat,” he said. 

“Okay, perfect. I brought Oreos, Fruit, Pretzels…” you start to say before he interrupts you. 

“None of that sounds good,” he said, his hand slowly moving down to your thigh. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” you laughed. “I have more stuff in my bag. I’ll go get it,” you say, trying to get up from the bed but Joe doesn’t let you. 

“I don’t think you have what I want out there,” he said, his face moving closer to yours. 

You rolled your eyes, “Then what do you want to eat because I got a lot of snacks, many of which you love,”.

“You,” he purred, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue, a familiar shade of blue though. “I want you,”.

You searched his eyes for a few moments, your body feeling hot at the thought of what Joe was implying. “Joe,” you whispered, his hands now cupping your mound. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your ear. “If you’ll let me,”. 

There was nobody on the plane but you two, the pilot, and the flight attendant; both of which were all the way in the front while you were in the back. If you did something, they would most likely not be able to hear you. 

“We have to be quiet though,” you said, easily giving in to his words.

“You have to be quiet. I’m just here to have a sweet treat and make my girlfriend feel good,” he said as you felt him slip his hand inside your shorts.

You rolled your eyes before pushing his head down and crashing your lips against his, both moving against each other in a sensual tango. You felt his fingers teasing your folds through your lace panty, your wetness seeping through. 

“Already so wet?” he smirked after he pulled away.

“Shut up,” you said as you pulled him back down to the kiss.

He took his hand out of your shorts and rested it on your waist, using his other hand to grab your leg and wrap it around his waist as he deepened the kiss. The combination of his fiery touch and addictive lips was making you restless. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you pulled away from his lips. 

He gave you a smile before moving down, pressing wet kisses along your inner thigh before sucking on the skin of your left thigh.

“Mm,” you whimper, stuffing your hand into his soft curls. 

He wastes no time as he pulls down your shorts and panties all in one go, immediately stuffing his face between your thighs. “Ohh,” you hissed, the feeling of his scruff between your legs was to die for. 

You feel him lap at your folds, his tongue then thrusting inside of you as he set a rhythmic pace. He moved his hand to your clit, carefully teasing the sensitive bud with delicate flicks and swirls.

“Fuck, Joe,” you whispered, trying to stifle your moans by throwing your head to the side into the pillow. His other hand slipped inside your shirt, slowly inching towards your breast as you pulled on the strands of his hair. 

His tongue felt like fire, lighting every nerve in your body. The expert flick and swirl of his tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout your withering frame. 

“Joe, you’re so good, fuck right there,” you whimpered as you used your hand to grip the sheets, then feeling him slide his hand out of your shirt, returning his finger to your heat. He starts to rub your clit again, the bundle of nerves just begging to reach its pleasure.

You toss your leg over his shoulder, gliding your foot along his muscular back as you feel Joe moan into your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You moved your hands back into his tousled curls, pulling on the soft golden strands again as he continued to use his mouth to send you to heaven. “Mm, you taste so good,” he groaned.  

“Joe, I’m so close,” you rasped, feeling your arousal building up. He started to toy with your clit even harder and moved his mouth up to it, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he started to suck on the bud.

You started to shake under him, your breaths getting shorter as you felt the tension in your belly snap and a wave of ecstasy come over you. “Fuck, Baby,” you moaned as you felt yourself reach your high, your hips jerking and your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the intense shocks of pleasure. Joe’s mouth moved back down to your folds and his hands massaged your thighs, trying to calm you down as he lapped at your folds again, cleaning up every drop of your arousal. 

A few minutes later, he cleaned you up with some napkins and was now lying on your chest, your hand playing with the strands of his hair as he pressed kisses on your chest through your shirt. 

“You still hungry,” you lazily chuckled.

“Nope. Dessert was extra delicious today and I'm stuffed,” he yawned. 

“That’s good because I’m about to pass out,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He craned his head up to look up at you, “Nap time?” he mumbled before pressing a kiss to your chin.

“Nap time,” you nodded as you wrapped your arms around his body and closed your eyes. 

After your lengthy nap, you two spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing various games, eating delicious foods, taking another nap, and going over the schedule for the week. You’d be in Cannes for 4 days (not including today's travel day); tomorrow and Monday would be for you two to explore the city and have a boat day. Tuesday and Wednesday would be panels and the latter half of Wednesday would be when you both would travel to Paris. Then the rest of the trip would be spent in Paris for Fashion Week. You and Joe were incredibly excited to explore the sights and sounds of the city together when he had time off from attending the shows and events. He was walking the runway at the end of the week, which you couldn’t be more proud of him for doing, and he would be attending quite a few shows for various brands throughout the week. You were debating on going with him or not to at least one show, deciding to feel it out depending on how this whole ‘going official’ thing works out. 

A few hours later

You landed about an hour ago and were now on the way to the hotel, both of you wide awake from your naps even though it was currently the middle of the night in Cannes. You looked out your window and watched the lamposts pass by, the streets empty and almost haunting because of how peaceful it seemed. 

“We should almost be there,” he said as he looked out the window. “I think that’s it,” he added as he pointed out the tall massive building in front of you. 

“Holy shit, they really went all out,” you said, your eyes widening as you got closer to the hotel. The impressive architectural structures of the building stood out beautifully as well as the the fact that it was beachfront.

“Beachfront too?” you gasped. “They must really love you,”.

“Told you they hooked me up,” he said as he rubbed your back. 

A couple of minutes later the car stopped in front of the main door, the bellhops loaded your luggage out of the car while you and Joe made your way inside. 

He held your hand as he led you through the lobby, the inside of the hotel just as grand as the outside. Beautiful chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow that highlighted the carefully crafted pillars and impressive ceiling designs. The earthy tan, white, and green hues of the lobby provided a sense of comfort and luxury. 

Joe looked down at your face, your mouth agape and your eyes sparkling. “Wait till you see the room,” he said as he bumped your shoulder. 

“The fact that I’ve never been here is wild,” you say as you feel Joe pull you into the elevator, not allowing you another moment to take in the design of the lobby. 

He pulls you in, quickly presses the button for the floor you are on, and then hits the button to close the door. Before you could say something else, he spun around and backed you up against the elevator wall, his face just inches from yours. 

“I love how excited you get over these things,” he said before he crashed his lips against yours, one hand gripping your waist and the other cupping your face. He found it endearing how you would easily get excited over things like this even though this was your life. The luxury and leisure was something you had been around for quite a few years now, but each time you were exposed to it you would still be mesmerized.  

You try to pull away but Joe doesn’t let you, deepening the kiss as he slides his hand down to your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze that makes you moan into the kiss. A few breathless seconds later, you manage to pull away, a look on his face that tells you he needs more.

“You’re a little worked up,” you blushed as you pressed your forehead against his, your arms around his neck. 

“The thought of us, just us, on what I would consider vacation the whole week is making me feel some things,” he purred. 

“I guess it being the middle of the night isn’t stopping those feelings,” you said as you rubbed his neck.

“Oh, I think that it being the middle of the night is making them way worse,” he said as he was leaning in for another kiss but stopped as he heard the elevator ding, hearing the door behind him open, prompting him to let out a disappointed sigh. 

You gently pushed him off and gave him a wink, “Guess you'll have to wait, this is our stop,”. 

He gave you a slow once-over before reaching forward and picking you up bridal style, his hands wrapping around your waist and legs; the sudden movement making you let out a squeal.

“Joe, put me down, someone will see,” you laughed as he walked out of the elevator with you in his arms.

“Did you forget?” he said as he made it to your suite door. He pulled out the keycard and unlocked the door, “We’re the only ones on the floor,” he whispered into your ear as he brought you inside. 

You stared at him for a few seconds before moving your eyes around the room, the very big and very glamorous room. You were standing in the doorway, in front of you was the living room with a nice dining table that was set up with a bunch of goodies such as wine, champagne, snacks, and chocolates for you and Joe. He walked further into the room, to your right was the passageway to your bedroom, and to the left was the mini kitchen and another seating area. 

“Wow,” you whispered as you looked around the room. “They really love you,”. 

“You haven’t even seen the best part,” he said as he slowly placed you back on your feet. He put his hand on the small of your back and guided you across the room to what looked like patio doors. He opened the door and motioned for you to go out, your eyes widening as you walked out onto the very large and lengthy private patio that had the best view of the beach and city below you. 

“Oh my god,” you said as you walked closer to the railing of the balcony. You looked up and saw the stars in the sky twinkling while the city below you was absolutely still; distant sounds of the waves crashing on the beach in front of you echoed throughout the streets below you. The patio was decorated with various flower arrangements, a day bed, and a little bistro table. 

“This is perfect,” you whispered as you felt a shiver run up your spine. The shorts and short-sleeved top you had on were not meant for this evening weather and you were feeling it. You felt Joe move closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and settling his chin on your shoulder, then turning his head to the side to press wet kisses along your neck; his warmth immediately heats you up. 

“Are you happy?” he mumbled against your skin.

You smiled and turned your head to look at him, his head moving out of your neck as his eyes met yours. “I think if I was any happier I would spontaneously combust,” you giggle before you kiss him again. “I’m glad we get to do this together. This is a big week for you and I am lucky to be a part of it,”.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else with me,” he said as he turned you around and leaned down to kiss you again, this time the kiss was a bit more heated than before as his hands slid down to your ass, pushing you closer to him. 

“Mmm, maybe we should go inside,” you say in between the kisses.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he mumbled as he pulled away and grabbed your hand, yanking you back inside and pulling you to the bedroom. 

“Slow down,” you giggled as he rushed you into the bedroom, not even giving you a moment to take in the vibes of the room as he was eyeing the massive bed waiting in front of you. “Wait, what about our luggage? Shouldn’t we wait for them to bring it up?”.

“They can come by when we wake up tomorrow,” he said as he backed you up until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

“What about our Pj’s?” you frowned. 

“We probably won’t need them,” he said as he started pressing kisses along your jawline, another shiver running down your spine. 

“As much as I'd love to continue this, aren’t you tired?” you asked him as you patted his shoulders.

“Not at all. It might be 2 am here but I am wide awake. Maybe this will make me tired again,” he said as he returned to kissing your neck. “Sex is natural melatonin,”. 

“I won’t argue with science,” you said as you pulled his head back to yours, kissing his lips a little rougher as he gently pushed you down onto the bed and crawled on top of you.

A few minutes later, both your clothes were in a pile next to the bed and Joe was spending some time pressing kisses around your body and nipping your skin. He pulled his head up from your chest and looked deeply into your eyes, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your lips before thrusting into your wet heat, the sudden movement catching you off guard and making you pull away from his lips. 

“Fuck, Joe,” you moaned as he set a ravenous pace. With every thrust he moved deeper inside of you, igniting a fire within you that only burned for him. 

The Next Morning 

The sound of the bathroom door opening woke you up the next morning, your head turning to see Joe walking out with wet hair and no shirt on. You watch as he walks over to the closet, pulls out his suitcase, and opens it to find a shirt, meaning that they must have dropped your luggage off. You slowly sit up, covering your naked body with the sheets as you stretch your arms out. 

“Morning,” he smiled as he turned around while buttoned up his shirt. 

“Gooood Morning,” you yawned as you made grabby hands towards him, motioning for him to come over to you. 

He walked over and sat down next to you, first pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and then pulling you into his chest.

“How long have you been up?” you asked as you ran your fingers along the fabric of his tan knit button-up beach shirt. 

“About two hours or so. I got our bags from the bellhop, ordered us some breakfast, scoped out the beach club downstairs, and took a shower,” he said as he ran his fingers through your messy hair. 

“That’s great,” you said as you tilted your head up to examine his neck, noticing a few purple marks. “Remind me to cover those up,” you laughed as you ran your fingertips along the love bites.

“You can try but I think the makeup would wash off once we get on the boat and decide to go in the water,” he chuckled.

“Oh my god, I forgot today was the boat day,” you gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth, realizing that he would have the marks on his neck completely visible to the public eye. “I got a little carried away last night,” you said as you moved off his chest and sat up, the sheet falling and your bare chest on display.

Joe’s eyes navigate down to your chest, his eyes widening and a blush snuck up on his face. “I think I did too,” he said as he reached out to rub the love bite on your chest. 

“We’re so horny,” you laughed as you dropped your head into your hands.

“But that’s good for us, keeps us on our toes,” he said, repeating one of the thoughts you had yesterday about him as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and got up from the bed. 

“I’m probably going to shower first and then eat breakfast if that’s cool,” you said as you got up from the bed and grabbed the robe Joe had laid out for you. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. It should still be warm since they have those fancy warmer things under them,”.

“That’s good,” you wince as you start walking over to your suitcase. 

Joe raises his eyebrow at your slight limp, “Sore?”.

“Just a tad,” you blushed as you reached down to open your suitcase. 

He walked over and picked up your suitcase before you could fully zip it open, “I’m gonna put it on the bed so you don’t pull a muscle or anything,”.

“Thank you,” you say as you lean in for another kiss.

“It’s the least I could do for giving you a limp,” he said as he placed the suitcase onto the bed and turned around to face you. 

“You already do enough for me by just existing,” you say as you open up your suitcase and pull out a matching black bikini set with a pink sundress to wear on top of it. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and swayed you back and forth, his heart fluttering at the thought of how lucky he was to have you in his life. “I love you,” he said as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck. 

“I love you too,” you said as you turned your head around to see him, pecking his lips before reaching down to grab a change of clothes for after your boat day. You would be having dinner on the boat as well so you decided to pick out something more fitting. You pull out a strappy white dress and pair it with some gold accessories and heels. 

“I love this dress on you,” Joe said as he ran his fingers along the soft fabric. “I found the beach bag and put my change of clothes in it, left it on the foyer table,”.

“Perfect,” you smiled as you pulled away from his embrace, closing up the suitcase and making your way to the bathroom. 

“How’s the water pressure?” you asked as you stood in the doorway.

“Better than our house,” he nodded. “I also checked out the jacuzzi tub. It has quite a few settings and we will be having some fun in there tonight,” he winked. 

“Looking forward to it,” you said as you twirled around and closed the door to begin your morning routine. 

About an hour and a half later, you’re washed, dressed, moisturized, and finishing up breakfast at the table with Joe. 

“This food is so good,” he groaned as he took a final bite of his muffin. 

“We’re going to gain at least 10 pounds by the time the trip is over,” you joked as you took another sip of your orange juice. 

“We can brush it off as healthy relationship weight if someone says something,” he joked. 

“Healthy,” you smile as you lean your head back to relish that feeling. Your relationship with Joe was so incredibly healthy. Both of you knew each other’s boundaries and respected them, had the best communication possible, and were completely and irrevocably in love with each other. 

“Healthy unlike this breakfast,” he laughed as he loaded your dirty dishes onto the cart to leave outside your door for the staff to take away.

“So, what’s the plan for today,” you said as you turned around in your chair and watched Joe.

“Well, I was thinking we take it easy. We can go down to the beach club downstairs and walk around for a bit since our boat is at the docks there so we can check it out and drop off the bag but we won’t be going on till a little later. If you want we can also go shopping around Rue d'Antibes and La Croisette,” he said as he opened the door to leave the cart outside.

“Nice pronunciation,” you giggled. 

“I’ve been practicing. I asked the receptionist downstairs how to pronounce the street names,” he smiled as he turned around to close the door. “Then we’ll just be on the boat and in the water until our sunset dinner on the boat,” he said, walking back over to you with your beach bag and sunglasses in hand. You packed your bag with various types of sunscreens, both your change of clothes, your film camera, and any other personal care items you’d need on the boat.

“Sounds perfect,” you smile. “After dinner, we should walk to the bakery around the corner from the hotel and pick up some sweet treats,”. 

“Whatever you want,” he said, holding out his hand for you to grab. “You ready?”.

“Mhm,” you smiled, placing your hand in his and getting up from your chair. “Wait, let me take care of these first,” you said, pointing at the love bites on his neck, a laugh escaping his lips as you dragged him to the bathroom.

A little later 

You and Joe walked around the beach club for a little while, taking in the gorgeous sun and crystal blue water and checking out the boat before sitting at one of the beachside tables for a few drinks. You weren’t usually drinking this early in the day, but a few Mimosa’s didn’t hurt, especially if you were going to spend a few hours shopping. 

Now you were in maybe the 4th or 5th store on your little shopping expedition, Joe picking out some pieces for the upcoming season and you helping him while also doing your own bit of looking. 

“I wish Kyle was with us since he is your stylist for this trip. He might’ve been able to give some opinions on these game-day outfits,” you said as you looked through the rack in front of you in the Saks store, all your favorite designer clothes in one spot. 

“Are you saying I’m incapable of picking out my game-day fits on my own?” he scoffed, his mouth wide open as he was slightly offended. 

You stopped rummaging through the racks and spun around, “I’ve told you multiple times that your game-day outfits send me into orbit,” you say as you give him a look that needs no explanation. “You don’t need anyone’s help, but I feel like a new person’s opinion might add some pizzazz,”. 

“You are the new person. You didn’t shop with me last off-season too much so I mean,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “The floor is yours,”. 

You raise your eyebrow and flash him a big smile, “Oookay, but you asked for this not me,”. 

You picked out various new pieces for Joe to try on while he insisted that he pick out some things for you as well. Joe liked more street-style outfits so you decided to follow that idea but add your own flair to it. You chose some more trendy but “Joe-like” shirts for him, new types of pants (so he would finally stop with the grey jeans), and some other things such as jackets and accessories he’d like. 

When Joe came back to you, he had absolutely nothing in his hand, making you let out a laugh as you looked over to the pile you and the assistant had set aside for him.

“Couldn’t find anything?” you teased as you pulled him closer.

“Actually, I found too much that they couldn’t carry it over,” he winked. 

“We haven’t even made it to Paris yet and we already shopped so much,” you said as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. 

“We get a free pass this one time,” he said, rubbing your back before giving your butt a soft pinch which makes you pull away.

“Joe, if someone sees,” you laughed, giving him another look that needed no explanation. 

“We’re fine. The staff knew us and didn’t say anything to us the other people in the store seemed to be minding their business, although I did notice a few stares and whispers but it is what it is,” he shrugged. “It’s just you and me. Pretend that nobody’s here,”. 

“I guess this is what we wanted to happen anyway. Only a matter of time before a picture of us pops up online,” you smiled, feeling comfortable with the thought of people seeing you out together.  

“Good thing we look good today,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Now, come see the stuff I picked out for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the other side of the store. 

An hour later, you were walking out with a concerning amount of bags and were on your way back to the hotel to drop them off; the rest of the stuff from the other stores was delivered to your room so you didn’t need to worry about those. 

“Wait, can we go in there for just a sec,” he said, stopping and pointing at the Cartier store. 

“Don’t you have enough sunglasses,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking towards the store. 

“Not going in here for those. I actually have something to pick up,” he said, acting mildly suspicious as he opened the door for you.

When you walk in, a worker immediately greets you both and leads you back to the Jewelry Counter, Joe walks in front of you and whispers something to the assistant before turning around and grabbing your hand. 

“Joe…” you say as he pulls out a chair for you.

“Yes, ma copine parfaite et chaude?” he smirked, squeezing in some more French he learned the other day. 

“Hm?” you asked, incredibly confused as you sat down in the velvet red chair. When did he have the time to learn all this French?

“Yes, my perfect and hot girlfriend,” he whispered in your ear before sitting down next to you. 

A blush crept up your face and you felt yourself get hot from his words, trying to keep your composure and figure out what you were doing here. “Um, why are we here?” you struggled to get out. 

“I told you,” he said as he looked forward at the Jeweler walking in with 2 trademark red Cartier boxes. “I had something to pick up,”. 

“Welcome Mr. Burrow and Ms. Y/LN,” the man smiled as he sat down in front of you. “I hope you have been enjoying Cannes so far,”.

“We’ve been having a lot of fun,” Joe smiled at the man. “Thanks for doing this Roger,”.

Roger, his name was Roger. Why did Joe know Roger? And what was in those boxes in front of you?

“Ah, no problem Mr. Burrow. Anything for the best Cartier-wearing Quarterback in the NFL,” he smiled as he turned the boxes around to face you both. 

Joe laughed at his response and threaded his fingers through his hair before looking over at you, studying your stupefied facial expression. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?” you asked.

“I think he should show you,” Joe said, Roger grabbing your attention as he unhooked the clasp of the boxes, opened them, and showed whatever was inside to you.

Your mouth dropped as you looked at what was in front of you. It was two bracelets, 1 of them having a black braided band and the other being a gold band, like a bangle you could clasp on. The bracelet had a gold letter “J” and “(your initial)” attached to it, one on the left of the bracelet and one on the right. In the middle, holding both letters together, was a gold infinity symbol decorated with diamonds. 

“Joe..” you whispered as you felt your heart flutter at the jewelry in front of you.

“Custom made to Mr. Burrow’s liking using our finest gold and jewels,” Roger added.

Joe was looking at you the entire time, taking note of how your eyes softened when he opened the boxes and how your cheeks turned pink when you realized what you were looking at. 

“When did you…How did you..,” you said as you turned your head to face him.

“Mhm, I think I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” Roger said as he got up. 

“Thanks, Roger,” Joe nodded as he turned back to you. 

“When my agent told me about this whole Cannes and Paris thing. I wanted to do something special for us and I wanted to make it memorable so we’d remember this week. I thought about just surprising you with another necklace or something but that didn’t feel special enough,” he said.

“Joe,” you said, choking up a little as you felt tears forming in your eyes.

“Sooo, I found a Cartier store closest to where we would be staying and talked to Roger here, pulled a few strings, and designed the bracelets with him, and well,” he added as he picked up your bracelet, opening the clasp and grabbing your hand to put it on your wrist. He closed the clasp and turned your wrist around, running his fingers over the initials and infinity symbol before pressing a kiss to it. “This is it. You and Me. You know how I feel about you and I know that it hasn’t even been a year yet but I couldn’t imagine doing anything of this without you. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before and I’ve only felt it for you, and I intend for you to be the only girl that can make me feel like this,”. 

How was it possible that you were falling even more in love with him? You thought that you’d already reached maximum head over heels-ness, but here you were feeling your heart grow and the amount of love you had for him increase. 

“I love you. I love you so very much, Joe,” you sniffled before leaning in and kissing him, keeping it innocent since you were around quite a few people. 

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You literally keep beating yourself every time you do something like this,” you laughed as you wiped the few tears falling from your eyes.

“And I plan to keep doing so for the rest of my life,” he said as he grabbed his bracelet. “I chose the braided black band for me because it felt more like me. The gold band is definitely you,”. 

“I don’t plan on ever taking it off, just like the necklace,” you smiled, referring to the initial necklace he gave you for your one month anniversary. You never took it off, not because he ‘owned’ you and needed people to know, but because he really knew you and you wanted people to know. “Wait if you got the braided band..Please tell me you don’t plan on wearing that in a game,” you gasped. 

“No, definitely not. I would never risk it getting damaged out there. I will however be wearing it as much as I can when I'm not on the field or doing anything physical that could damage it,” he said as slipped it onto his empty wrist. “Wait, I almost forgot. Take your bracelet off real quick,”. 

“Okay?” you chuckled as you unclasped it and handed it to him.

“I got something engraved on the inside. Here, look,” he said as he opened it up a bit more for you to read the text on the inside of the band. 

⋆｡°✩ The Stars All Aligned ⋆｡°✩  - J.B.

Didn’t he say that to you this morning? How long had he been waiting to say that to you?

“You’re perfect. Quite literally crafted by Cupid and the Angels. I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you but I'm so glad you’re mine,” you said as you looked back up into his love-struck eyes. 

“I love you,” he said as he kissed your cheek. 

After a few more moments of fawning over the bracelets and his adorable romantic gesture, you both found Roger and personally thanked him for helping orchestrate the surprise, especially since Cartier rarely did anything custom like this for clients. After a few moments of chatting and wandering around the store, You and Joe walked out of the store with two more bags in your hands, one with the boxes for the bracelets and the other filled with stuff Joe bought. 

“You and them damn Cartier shades,” you said as you shook your head. 

“Listen, I couldn't resist. They looked really good. The pink ones I got for you are going to look so good on game day,” he shrugged. 

“Whatever you say,” you laughed as you spun around and started walking backward, still facing him. “I can’t wait to get on the boat and be wearing minimal clothing. It’s hot as hell right now,”. 

“Forget Minimal, you don’t have to be wearing any clothing on the boat if you don’t want to,” he winked.

“Joe!” you gasped as you stopped, causing him to bump into you. 

“What? I’m sure everyone would enjoy the view. I know I do,” he teased, your mouth hanging open as he was standing so incredibly close to you, his face just inches from yours.

You were about to say something but saw a group of girls and guys stop a little bit behind you, their hands seemingly over their mouths. “Oh my god. Is that them?” one of the girls gasped. 

You looked at Joe, a smile on both your faces as you listened to the group, acting like you weren’t eavesdropping by turning around to face the buildings in front of you. Joe nonchalantly snaked his arm around your waist and whispered into your ear, “I think we’ve been caught,”. 

“Dude I think it is. Holy Shit I didn’t think the rumors were true,” the other girl said. 

“Damn, Joey B is really winning at life,” one of the guys laughed. “Y/N is hot as hell,”.

Your eyes widened when you heard the teenage boy, probably somewhere around the age of 17 say that. “Oh my god,” you whispered as your cheeks turned pink. 

“You know what? I’m not even mad that he said that. You are hot as fuck,” Joe whispered into your ear, prompting you to bump into his shoulder. 

“Wait because this is insane. I would’ve never thought they’d end up together but I’m so here for it,” the other girl whispered, or tried to whisper at least. 

“I mean she was at the games in January. What’d you guys expect? I heard she liked football before she went to the Bengals game but that wasn’t her favorite team,” the other guy added. 

“Well, it definitely is now,” the first girl cooed. 

“I guess the cats outta the bag. Oh well,” you whispered into Joe’s ear, no other thoughts in your mind. You didn’t care if people saw you together. You were happy and that’s all that mattered.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, softly squeezing your hip.

“Yes, please. I’m melting right now,” you laughed as you placed your hand around his waist. 

After reaching the hotel and dropping off your bags inside your room, you walked back down to the beach club and had a quick bite to eat before making your way to the docks where the boat was waiting.  

Joe got on first, extending his hand to help you on. “Thank you,” you said as you reached up to kiss his cheek. While Joe was talking to the captain, you slipped into the bathroom to take your dress off, the lovebite from last night fading but still visible making you blush. While you were in there you clipped your hair back and put some sunscreen on your frontside and legs, not being able to reach your back so you’d ask Joe to do it. 

After freshening up, you went back out to the boat, noticing that you had departed the docks and were now out on the crystal blue Riviera waters. 

“You look incredible,” Joe said from behind you. You flipped around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him in just his swim trunks and sunglasses, his chiseled chest on display and his muscular arms making you feel hot all over. 

“Not too bad yourself,” you purred as you sat down on the tanning chair. “What’d the captain say?” you said as you pulled out the sunscreens from your beach bag.

“He said we’d be circling around the Riviera but stopping at a good spot if we wanted to get in the water. Then I told him for dinner to stop at the docks a little further down from our docks because there’s a good beachfront restaurant that said they can serve us on here,”.

“You really planned everything out,” you smiled at him.

“That I did,” he said as he sat down next to you.

You pulled out the lotion and put it in front of him, “Can you get my back, and then I can do you?”.

Joe raised his eyebrow at the offer, his mind wandering to some other things that this innocent task could lead to.

“No funny business, Joe,” you said as you sent him a look. “I mean it this time,”.

“I got you,” he laughed as he sat down on the chair next to you while you lay flat on your stomach. He squeezed out a good amount of sunscreen before placing the bottle down. You felt his big hands start at your shoulders, rubbing the lotion into your skin before sliding down your back. His fingers expertly massaged your skin the way you loved, a few innocent moans leaving your lips making Joe laugh.

You turned your head to the side and looked up at him again with the same look, his face going back to seriousness which made you let out a little laugh. He then slid his hands down to your butt, softly squeezing it as he worked the last bit of sunscreen around your skin. 

“You’re good,” he smiled as he moved his hands off of you. 

“Thank you, Joey,” you said as you sat up. “Now lay on your stomach so I can get your back,”.

“I think I’ll be fine. I want a nice tan,” he said.

“Absolutely not. You burn too easily and there’s a big difference between tan and burnt,” you said as you got up from your chair and grabbed the bottle. “On your stomach,” you motioned. 

“Fine,” he sighed, admitting defeat as he turned around.

You placed a leg on each side of his waist, straddling him as you squeezed out a dab of sunscreen before tossing the bottle to the side. You started at his shoulders, working your way down as you gave him a nice massage at the same time, a few groans leaving his lips as he closed his eyes. You smiled at the sounds leaving his lips, Joe loved a good massage. 

“This would be nice with no clothes,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his arms, first grabbing the bottle to squeeze out more sunscreen, “Why are you extra worked up this week?”.

“You tell me,” he said, turning his head around and giving you a good look up and down. 

He never failed to make you feel extra good about yourself. His looks, his touch, his comments. All of it made you feel like a diamond. 

“You’re sweet,” you replied as you sent him an air kiss as you quickly rubbed the last bit of sunscreen on his arms. “Flip over,”. 

You sat up on your knees so that he could turn around underneath you, then once he got settled sat back down, still straddling him. “This is all too familiar,” he said as he pushed his sunglasses down. You on top of him like this was a little too risky but you had to make sure he didn’t burn in the sun.  

You shook your head as you squeezed more sunscreen onto your palm and spread it along his perfectly crafted chest and torso, pressing a few kisses to his chest while you were at it. His hands settled on your hips, kneading your plush skin as you made sure to get every corner of him protected by the sunscreen. 

“If you put any more on I think I'm going to turn the same color as this chair,” he joked.

“Okay,” you said as you dropped the bottle in the bag. “I’ll stop but at least now you won’t get burnt,”.

“Thank you,” he said as he moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. God, he looked so good right now. His hair was in the perfect position, his skin was glowing, his eyes were twinkling, and he was all yours. 

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled as you leaned down to kiss him, his grip on your waist tightening as your hands cupped his face. 

You were all over each other for what felt like an hour, not caring about anything since you were out on the open waters, just the two of you. You don’t even remember when he picked you up and laid you down on the daybed because you were so lost in his lips you had zero coherent thoughts in your mind. 

Suddenly, he pulled away, a cheeky grin on his face. “What’s got you so worked up?” he said as he raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been on my lips for almost an hour,”. 

“Really funny, Joe,” you laughed as you turned to lay on your back, the sun now covering your body. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean to stop,” he said, sadness creeping up on his face.

“Mmm, I think we need a second to breathe so that we don’t die from heat exhaustion and lack of oxygen,” you joked as you threw your leg over his.

“Fair point,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest, your bodies fitting together naturally making you both instantly comfortable. 

A few quiet moments later, Joe spoke up. “I still can’t believe this is real life,”.

You moved your head up to look at him, his eyes looking off into the sky. “I’m playing football in the NFL, people know who I am, I’m in fucking France right now, and I’m dating the most extraordinary and talented woman to grace the earth and I get to spend all of my time with her. Literally, what is my life,” he mumbled. 

“Joe…,” you cooed. As crazy as his life was, he could never be able to comprehend that this was his life.

You turned to lay on your stomach again, resting your chin on his chest which made him look down at you. “You know what the one thing that really stuck out to me and made me fall in love with you was?”.

“What?” He smiled.

“The fact that you’re such a softie. You’re such a sappy softie in there,” you said as you pointed to his heart. “But on the outside, you’re this calm, cool, collected, smoke show Quarterback. You can do both and that’s what made me fall for you. And you let me see that sappy part of you, which makes it even more special,”. 

As you were talking, you saw how his cheeks turned a little red, something that would often happen when you started talking like this. 

“I know I’ve said it at least 15 times today, but I love you,” he said while picking up your hand and kissing the bracelet on your wrist. 

“I love you too. Like a lot, if that wasn’t clear,” you giggled. 

“Oh, it’s clear. Very clear,” he nodded as he started to get up. “Since you love me so much, you wanna go make some drinks with me and lay out in the sun so I can get a little tan?” he asked like a little kid. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled as you got up with him, the smile on your face the biggest it’s probably been in a long time. Joe made you happy, truly happy and everything that came out of his mouth just made it better. 

Two hours later 

You spent some time lounging on the chairs, tanning, and sipping on some cocktails you whipped up in the mini bar inside while talking more about what the rest of the week would look like. You also spent some time taking in the distant view of the City, seeing all the beautiful architecture and scenery from a distance, making a note that you should come back here at some point but spend a whole week here rather than a few days 

Then, the boat stopped in the middle of the Riviera; they also brought out a few floaties and water mats for you both to use out on the water. Joe dragged you in with him, insisting that you take a dip in the cool water for just a bit, but you insisted on using his body as a floatation device the entire time.

After swimming around for a bit, or well, letting Joe swim around while you were stuck to his back, you were sitting on the floating water mat. Joe was sitting criss-cross and you laid across his legs on your back, soaking up the sun as he was absentmindedly rubbing your thigh. 

He looked down at you, seeing how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed when an idea popped into his head. He carefully slid his hands underneath you, almost as if he was picking you up bridal style. You didn’t say anything because you thought he was just re-adjusting you in his lap, but then you felt him lift you into the air. 

“Joe..What’re you…Ahhh!” you screamed as he gently dropped you back into the water.

You swam back up to the surface, wiping your hand across your face as you watched him laugh and your disheveled appearance. 

“That’s not funny,” you frowned, trying hard not to give him the satisfaction of laughing at the situation. 

“Aw, does someone not like the water,” he laughed as he watched you try not to laugh, which you were struggling to do. 

“I don’t like not being told when I’m being thrown into the water,” you huffed. 

“You’re so cute when you're mad,” he grinned.

“And you’re cute when you're not throwing your lovely girlfriend into the water without warning,” you said as you batted your lashes at him, purely out of teasing.

“Fine,” he sighed as he extended his hand out to help you back onto the mat. 

You put your hand in his, getting an idea while gripping it tightly. You use all of your strength to pull him down into the water with you, “Y/N, what are you-,” he said before his big body made a splash into the water next to you as you broke out in a fit of laughter. 

You laughed for a few seconds, expecting him to come back up a few seconds later but when you don’t see him come back up, you get worried.

“Joe? Where’d you go?” you said before you felt two hands wrap around your legs underneath you and lift you into the air, sending you backward into the water. Joe came up, another grin on his face as he watched you come back up from the water again.

“Two for Two,” he winked. 

“No fair,” you laughed as you splashed him with water. “You’re like 50 times stronger than me,” you said as you swam closer to him. 

“Join me next time I’m in the gym and we can buff you up more,” he smiled as he pulled you closer.

“Us, in the gym, with nobody around, sweaty, and all worked up? I don’t think I’ll be getting buff, I think I’ll be burning calories doing something else,” you purred.

“And I’m the one that’s worked up,” he said as he raised his eyebrows, you shook your head as your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him in for another sweet kiss.

“You wanna go back inside and make some more drinks?” you asked him.

“Sure, but we’re going to be so drunk by dinner time,” he said as he swam you both over to the steps. “Those tropical rum margaritas are strong as hell,”. 

“I think we’ll be fine,” you smiled.

Evening Time (Around the Sunset)

You, in fact, were not fine.

You both had one too many drinks after you got back onto the boat that you could barely stand up in the shower when you went to freshen up for dinner. You got lucky and managed to do your hair and makeup without any mishaps occurring, but you were still very tipsy and the drinks being served with your dinner tonight were not helping.

They had set up a nice spread of food on the little dining table on the boat, Joe sat across from you as you spent a few spare moments taking pictures of him on your treasured film camera. “The sunset looks good behind you,” you giggled as you tried to take a picture of him, but the alcohol in your system made it hard for you to focus.

“Oo, get a picture of the food too,” he said pointing at the delicious spread in front of you.

“Part-time food blogger. I like it,” you nodded as you pointed the camera at the food, snapping a few shots before putting the camera down. 

Joe grabbed his phone, opened the camera, and snapped a few pictures of you. "You look so beautiful," he smiled as he continued to snap some pics.

"Love you," you said to him, a rosy blush on your face that wasn't from sitting in the sun today.

You grabbed your glass of wine, taking a nice gulp before placing it back down, Joe doing the same before you started to dig into the food in front of you. You don’t remember how many glasses of wine you went through with your food, all you knew was that by the end of the dinner, you could barely remember why you were in France in the first place. 

Joe got up from his chair, almost stumbling back down into the chair as he shook his head. “Whew, I am so drunk,” he laughed as he helped you out of your chair and brought you back over to the day bed. 

“Join the Club,” you giggled as you plopped down. 

“Do you think the Aliens like France?” he asked you as he dropped down next to you, grabbing your legs and placing them in his lap.

“Hmmm,” you thought as you twirled your hair. “I think they’d like it if they came here,”.

“You don’t think they’re already here?” he drunkenly asked you.

“Nope. I think they like to stay over where we are because we don’t bother them. I think French people would freak if they saw an alien and probably throw macaroons at them,” you mumbled as you played with the wristbands on Joe’s wrist. 

“I mean, we did try to storm Area 51. I think they were probably pretty mad about that,” Joe nodded.

“Trueee,” you gasped. “I hope they aren’t lonely in there. They should be free and get to live life like we do,” you frowned. 

God, you were so drunk. 

“What if they are? You remember the farmer aliens in that one Spongebob episode we watched last week?”. 

“Yeah,” you giggled.

“What if we have farmer aliens out in the midwest and just have no idea since we never go out there?” he said, being 100% serious about what he was saying.

“Oh my god, you’re probably right,” you gasped. “I wonder if they play instruments like the ones in SpongeBob,”. 

“We should go farmer alien-hunting when we get back,” he smiled as he pulled out his phone. 

“Oh, 100%,” you nodded as you watched him tap some things on his phone.

“I need your opinion on something,” he said as he looked back up at you.

“Shoot,” you said as you leaned back. 

“Should I get these?” he said, turning his phone around to show you the very expensive Lego Eiffel Tower and Milky Way set he had added to his cart.

“Joe,” you laughed as you grabbed his phone. “This Eiffel Tower one is 10,000 pieces and 700 dollars and the Milky Way set is 3,000 pieces and 200 dollars,”.

“So,” he shrugged. “I’m rich remember,”.

Normally you’d shut this down real fast because you knew he didn’t have the time to put these together so it would be a waste of money, but you were so drunk that all your logic and sense went out the window.

“Okay!” you chirped as you handed him back the phone. “Order them now so we can build them when we get back,”. 

“Great idea,” he nodded as he quickly purchased the Lego sets. 

It was a terrible idea. You should pray for your future self when she comes home to 900 dollars worth of Legos at the front door that neither of you had enough time to build.

While he was tapping away on his phone, you looked out onto the peaceful open water, lost in a trance before you saw the boat lights turn on, brightening your once-dark surroundings.

“The lights,” you gasped as you looked up and the fairy string lights and lamps, the soft music playing in the background adding to the scene. You got up from the day bed and started twirling around, dancing to the song in the background as Joe sat there and watched you, his eyes watching your every step, his heart growing bigger every time you looked back at him. 

He was out of his mind drunk right now, but he was sober enough to mean what he was just about to say.

“Let’s get married,” Joe said, making you flip around with your eyes wide open. 

“What?” you giggled, the alcohol in your system in full effect so whatever he was saying wasn’t really registering in your brain.

“I said, let’s get married,” he mumbled as he got up. 

“Joe, we’re drunk as hell,” you laughed as he grabbed your waist.

"I'm totally, absolutely, not at all drunk at all. Like... at all,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Mhmmm,” you nodded. “And I’m a princess,”. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. I know we’ve only known each other for a year, but marry me. It doesn’t have to be today, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but marry me,” he said. “You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me and I never want it to end. I need you,”. 

Although he was drunk right now, part of you knew he was being serious when he said that. Everything he did for you and said to you made what he was saying right now absolutely genuine.

“It’s you and me for infinity,” he said, looking down at your bracelet. “I love you in this life and in every lifetime after,” he smiled.

“I love you too, Joe. In every universe and every…uhh..dimension? Yeah, dimension,” you nodded, making him laugh at your drunken expression. 

“So what do you think? Would you want to marry me one day?” he asked you, his face absolutely adorable and sincere. “Unless this is too much for you. I don’t want to push you into an idea that you’re not ready for even if it is a bit into the future,”.

“If you asked me the same question 2 years ago, I would’ve thrown a drink in your face and bolted like hell. But you’re asking me now,” you said as you looped your arms around his neck. “Me now is happiest she’s ever been in all aspects of her life, in love love, comfortable, and is pleased with where she is,”.

“So to answer your question, Okay,” you smiled. 

“Really?” He said, his heart fluttering. 

“Mhm. As long as we get to have a bigggg cake and we get to invite allll our friends and family,” you say as you break free from his grasp and spin around to the music. “And for reference, I like princess cut,”.

“I’ll make you the best damn ring money can make,” he whispered to himself. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped as you stopped dancing.

“What?” He asked.

“Can we get a dog? We should get a dog,” you said as you moved back closer to him.

“Only if I get to name it ‘Gary’,” he said, a throaty laugh leaving his lips as his pupils dilated from the alcohol in his system. He was sooo drunk right now and neither of you would probably remember this conversation tomorrow morning. 

“Deal,” you chirped. Another gasp left your lips and your eyes lit up.

“Now what?” Joe chuckled as he pulled you closer.

“Can we have kids?” you pouted. “Pretty Pretty Pretty Pleaaaseee,”.

“Uhh, duh. Obviously, we’re going to have kids,” he agreed. 

“Yayyyy,” you squealed as you jumped up and down. 

“We’re going to have a mini quarterback and a mini musician running around at some point,” he smiled.

“I wonder if they’ll get both sets of talents. Mini QB can be an expert guitarist and vocalist while Mini Musician can kill it in sports just like her daddy,” you beamed. 

“We have one hell of a genetic pool,” he joked. 

“That we do. Like I said, you’re Troy from High School Musical,” you said as you bit your lip, knowing how he felt about that since he discovered his piano talent.

“Not again,” he said, dropping his head.

“Okay, I’ll stop..for now,” you said as you stumbled back, almost bumping into a chair and falling over, but Joe grabbed your hand and pulled you back forward.

“How did we get so drunk?” he sighed.

“I blame the aliens,” you huffed.

“Oh, so the aliens were the ones who kept making the margs?” he questioned.

“Duhh. It obviously wasn’t me,” you denied as you looked out to the water again, this time seeing your hotel and dock get closer. 

“How did we already make it back?” you said as you walked over to the ledge.

“I didn’t even notice when we left,” Joe said, joining you.

“It’s probably a good thing. We’re so far gone right now we need to be on land,” you said as you looked up at him. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to get back on land,” he said as he looked back down at you with his intense eyes, his hand slipping around your waist. “Have I told you how stunning you look right now?” he whispered into your ear.

“Have I told you how sexy you look in this baby blue button-up?”. He was wearing a blue button-up shirt with white shorts, the buttons on his shirt all the way open exposing his broad chest. 

“We’re a hot couple,” he laughed.

“Very hot,” you say as you lean in to kiss his cheek. 

After the Boat reached the dock, you and Joe thanked the captain for taking you around today. You grabbed your stuff and started to walk to the exit of the boat, but again you were so drunk that you were stumbling around and the heels you had on were making it worse. Joe slid his hand around your waist, firmly holding you as he helped you down the boat and onto the dock.

“Thanks for that. I’m one wrong step away from face-planting,” you said as you held onto him.

“Honestly, me too but at least we’d fall together,” he smiled as you both stumbled back to the hotel. 

“Oh wait, did you still want to go to that dessert shop you were talking about this morning?” he asked as he stopped.

“Hmmmm,” you thought as you looked at Joe, feeling a flutter inside your belly when you looked at him up and down. He looked so good right now, a literal piece of art. 

“We can wait until tomorrow. All I care about right now is getting back inside our room,” you winked.

“Oh really?” he said, squeezing your waist before dropping his hand to your ass.

You were about to say something else before you felt your phone buzz, pulling it out to see a text from your manager.

“Who is it?” Joe asked as you two reached the door to the Hotel. 

“Oh, it's my manager. She said..

There are photos of you and Joe online from earlier, reaction looks pretty positive and a lot of people are confused but pleasantly surprised! Glad to see you two having fun :) Enjoy the trip! 

“Well I guess everyone knows now,” he said as he opened the door for you.

“Hm, I guess they do,” you said as you tucked your phone away, then pulled Joe toward you by his arm, crashing your lips against his and backing up against the wall. 

“Y/N, what if someone sees?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Let them see then,” you smiled against his lips, watching his eyes scan yours for a few seconds before feeling his lips against yours, this time harder than before.

You felt him move down, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “Joe,” you whimpered.

“What?” he looked up at you with heart eyes.

“Room. Now,” you urged as you felt him grab your hand and pull you over to the elevator, luckily nobody was inside so you could get up to your room as fast as possible. You pushed the button for your floor, Joe’s mouth going back to your neck as you tilted your head back to give him more room. 

His other hand grabbed your ass, softly squeezing your plush skin through the tight fabric of your dress as he left another purple spot on your neck.

“Joe,” you moaned loudly as he touched your sweet spot, your cheeks turning red at the sound that left your mouth.

You then heard the elevator stop, the doors opening as Joe moved off of you. “Thanks for the preview,” he smiled as he pulled you out of the elevator, once again picking you up bridal style just like last night.

“I could get used to this,” you smiled as he walked over to your door, quickly unlocking it and rushing you to the bedroom without giving it a second thought.

He gently placed you down on the bed, your eyes looking over at the bathroom. “What about the Jacuzzi Tub?”. 

“We can save that for tomorrow night. I need you, now,” he said, desperately flinging his shirt off. 

“Okay,” you smiled as you sat back up, Joe walking out of the room without saying a word.

“Hm, weird,” you said as you started to slip the straps of your dress down and untie your heels.

A few moments later, he walked back in, a little silver bucket in his hand. 

“What’s that,” you said, his eyes looking back up and seeing you in your matching white lace bra and panties, one of his favorites on you.

“Ice,” he said as he placed the bucket on the side table next to the bed, heat rising up your body at the mention of that. 

“Cool,” you smiled as you grabbed his bicep, not bothering to ask him about the ice, pulling him onto the bed and on top of you as you fell back against the pillows, your lips on each other again. 

Joe reached behind you, unclasping your bra and gently slipping the straps off your shoulder before returning back to kissing your chest. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud causing soft moans to leave your lips. While he was doing so, he reached his arm out to the table, sticking his hand in the ice bucket to grab a cube. 

He pulled away and brought the ice cube into your view, your cheeks turning another shade of pink because you knew what he was going to do. He pressed the cube to your collarbone, the icy cold touch making your breath hitch.

“Joe,” you whined, feeling the ice cube travel down to the valley of your breasts, his lips returning to your skin, pressing feather-light kisses as you squirmed under his touch. 

The cool wet trail the ice cube was leaving behind was making you even more needy, wanting nothing more than to feel Joe in every way possible, but he was taking his time. 

He grabbed another ice cube, this time pressing it against your nipples, “Fuck,” you cried out.

“You good?” he asked, making sure you were okay.

“I’m…great,” you whimpered, the ice sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body, 

He then moved the ice cube down your stomach, your hips jerking at the feeling of the sudden coolness, your core feeling slicker as he continued to work his way down your body. The ice makes your skin tingle, and the feeling of coldness intensifies your already heightened thoughts which creates a numbing sensation.

“Mmph,” you moaned as you bit your lip, feeling the ice move down to your core, a cheeky grin on Joe’s face.

You then feel him press the ice cube against your folds through your lace panties, another moan, this time a little louder than before, leaving your lips.

“Joe,” you moaned, immediately covering your mouth with your hand because of how loud that was. The alcohol in your system mixed with the feeling of ice on your bare body was making you feel like you were floating on a cloud of ecstasy. 

“No need to be quiet,” he said, popping the remains of the cube into his mouth. “Remember, it’s just us,” he smiled as he grabbed another ice cube, popping this one into his mouth as well. 

He leaned down, gazing into your eyes for a few seconds before pressing his cool lips against yours; the taste of alcohol was still evident, mixing with the coolness of the ice.

You put your hands in his hair again as you pulled him in closer, the ice cube slipping in between his lips and entering your mouth. 

“Mm,” Joe hummed as he smiled into the kiss, the shared coolness between you feeling like a breath of fresh air. The feeling of the ice between your lips which were pressed against his was unlike anything you’d felt before, and you loved it. 

You pulled away from the kiss, both your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, “Joe, I need you,” you rasped. 

You didn’t need to say anything else for Joe to get off of you, kick his shorts and boxers off while also sliding your panties off. He settled on top of you, giving you another kiss as he slid his fingers through your drenched folds.

“Damn,” he laughed.

“Joeee, please,” you pleaded as you pulled on the strands of his hair.

He moved his head down to press kisses along your jaw as he guided his cock through your folds, pushing into your core without warning. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as you threw your head to the side. Joe set a hungry pace, thrusting into your core with no interest in slowing down, sending you further into the bed each time. 

“Oh,” you moaned loudly as he pounded into your slick core, no coherent thoughts in your head at the moment as he was focused on sending your body to its pleasure point.

You moved your hands to his back, scratching his soft skin which would surely leave a few red marks. “Y/N, you feel so good,” he hissed as he cupped his hand behind your knee, lifting your leg and opening you up more. 

“Baby,” you screamed as he continued to fuck you senselessly, his cock hitting every single sweet spot with each thrust. 

You looked down, watching where you two were connected, the sight of his cock slipping into your wet heat making your eyes roll back to the back of your head, “F-Fuck,” you whined. 

He moved his head back down to yours, his sweet lips finding their home against yours as you moaned into him.

After a few more rough thrusts, you felt your pleasure building up inside your body. Joe always did most of the work when it came to sex, not because you didn’t want to, but because he always wanted to make you feel good but now you wanted to let him sit back while you did the same for him. You pulled away from his lips, “Joe, let me ride you,” you whimpered.

“Are you sure?” he panted as he slowed his thrusts. 

“Mhm,” you nodded as you took a deep breath, your core gently clenching around his cock. 

He pressed a final kiss to your lips before sliding out of you and falling back against the sheets next to you. 

You quickly got up and straddled his waist, giving his cock a few pumps before guiding it back inside of you, “Shit,” you moaned as you threw your head back. 

Your hands settled on his chest as his hands settled on your hips, guiding you back and forth as you slid down his length. 

“Y/N…god,” he moaned as he looked up at you, watching you take control and letting him relax. His hands moving up to cup your breast, giving it a soft squeeze as you let out another moan.

“Joe, I’m so close,” you panted as you picked up the pace, digging your nails into his skin at the same time. Soft moans and praise came from his lips, making you smile and feel more confident each time.

“I’ve got you,” he said as he gripped you tighter and started to thrust up into you.

You felt the tension in your stomach increase, your breaths coming out in short gasps, and your cheeks heating up. “Oh, Joe,” you moaned as you fell forward, your lips crashing against his as you continued to move against him, the sounds of your wetness filling the room.

A few seconds later, you felt your orgasm rip through your body, almost feeling like you were about to black out by how your walls were convulsing around his cock, which was still moving inside of you. 

“Mm, I’m close,” Joe moaned. 

You used your hand to move his messy hair out of his face before kissing him again, picking up the pace again even though your knees were about to give out. Your walls were still clenching his shaft and you were still trying to come down from your intense high, but you had to make him feel good. You sucked on his bottom lip as you ran your fingers around his neck, a few seconds later feeling him coat your walls with his cum.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, his hands running down your sides as you peppered kisses along his jaw.

“You are a dream,” Joe said as he squeezed your waist, grabbing your hand and pressing kisses all around your palm.  

“Fuck, Joe,” you panted as you carefully slid off of him, then fell forward onto his chest as he wrapped his arms around your body, pressing a few kisses on your cheek while you both tried to regain your senses.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear. 

“Je t'aime,” Joe said to you, saying ‘I love you’ but in French.

You pressed another kiss to his face before feeling your eyes flutter shut, your heart exploding from love and happiness.

An hour-ish later 

You both took a power nap for a little bit to recover from your activities before hopping in the shower to rinse off. Right now, both of you were in your robes in the kitchen, trying to beat the morning hangover by drinking a glass of lemon water.

“I’m never drinking this much again,” you said as you leaned against the counter. “I don’t feel the hangover yet but I already know it’s going to be bad,”.

“I’m just glad the panel isn’t tomorrow. I’d actually be screwed,” he said as he placed his glass down on the table.

“That would for sure be the biggest headline. ‘Joe Burrow has a massive hangover during a Rare public appearance at a panel in Cannes’,” you mock. 

“Bigger headline than our relationship? I peeked at my phone and it’s blowing up with texts from people that don’t know about us and notifications from news articles talking about you and me. People apparently think we just started dating or that we’re just hooking up and it’s not serious,” he laughed. “We should probably make our Instagram post soon,”. 

You nodded, “Ohhh, are they in for a treat when I drop this album,” as you turned around to put your empty glass in the sink behind you, Joe doing the same. 

You turned back around and were standing in front of him, face to face. Although you were still drunk, you felt a bit more in your senses than you did on the boat and Joe’s mention of wanting to marry you was still lingering in your mind even though you said yes. Was he being serious? 

He studied your facial expression, instantly knowing that you were thinking about something that was bothering you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he placed his hands on the counter on each side of you.

“Nothing,” you smiled as you met his eyes.

Joe tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, “Joe, seriously. I’m fine,” you deflected. 

He continued to look at you with a quizzical look, eventually your front breaking. 

“Fine,” you give in, making him smile. “Were you being serious earlier?”. 

“Being serious about what?” he asked. 

“About wanting to marry me?” you asked him, your voice a little quieter as you felt a little nervous asking him. If he brushed it off, that meant he was drunk and wasn’t being serious. You felt like he was being serious, but that doubt was still in your mind.

He looked deeply into your eyes for a few quiet moments, your stomach churning as you were waiting for him to speak up. 

“Of course, I was being serious,” he said. “I told you, it’s you and me. That’s all it is and all that there needs to be. You’re what I’ve been waiting for my entire life and I don’t ever want to let go, I don’t need anything else,”. 

You felt your eyes well with tears at his words. He wanted to marry you. One day, he would be your husband. You’d dreamed of meeting your prince charming one day and living your fairytale, and each time you thought you did, you’d end up living a nightmare instead, up until you met Joe. 

He was your real life Prince Charming and you were living your Fairytale. 

“You’re everything to me,” you said as you cupped his face. “I love you more than you can imagine, Joe. Thank you for changing my life,” you said to him, seeing his eyes become a little glossy because of your words. 

"No, Thank you for changing my life," Joe smiled.

He leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips which quickly became heated as you stuffed your hands into his hair. Your lips moved against each other in a beautiful rhythm as you felt him cup your ass and lift you up onto the counter, his hands messing with the ties on your Robe as he moved down to your neck.

“Joe,” you moaned as you threw your head back. 

You felt him untie your robe, your nude body now exposed to the cool air of the suite. “Round 2?” he asked as he ran his big hands down your hips and to your thighs. 

“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you smiled as you grabbed his robe tie and yanked it so that it came undone, his nude body now on display for you. 

You felt him thrust into you, hard and fast, as he peppered kisses on your bare shoulder. “Jesus, Baby,” he moaned into your ear, making you lean further back which gave Joe access to your breasts. His lips attacked them with gentle kisses and nips as he sank deeper into you, sounds of skin-hitting skin filled the room along with the noises coming from your mouths. 

“Fuck, Joe,” you whimpered as a smile rose onto your face. There was no place you’d rather be right now. You were truly the happiest you’d ever been, and Joe was the reason for it, and now you had the comfort of knowing he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

—The End—

(instagram post bit below)

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tagged: joeyb_9

y/n_y/ln: we heard a rumor 👀

comments:

joeyb_9: i heard from a friend of a friend

——— y/n_y/ln: actually i heard it from aunt susan’s coworkers ex girlfriends sisters fiancée

lahjay_10: about damn time

fan_52: IT’S TRUE?

fan821: oh my god the albums going to be about him isn’t it.

——— fan 9822: it’s over for us.

y/bsf: heyyy lovebirds 😍😍

fan453: i’m so happy for her! joe is an amazing guy 🥹

fan662: this makes so much sense.

fan6227: JOE BURROW? WHAT THE FUCK?

fan18811: OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDDDD HOLY SHIT

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liked by y/n_y/ln and others

tagged: y/n/_y/ln

joeyb_9: 🚀

comments:

y/n_y/ln: launched straight into the stratosphere

——— joeyb_9: 👩‍🚀🧑‍🚀

y/n_y/ln: this caption is perfect for you

——— joeyb_9: you’re perfect for me

————— fan4: not them already flirting online 🤭

lahjay_10: yall are too cute

fan98: OH? OHHHH????

fan11: cincys royal couple 👑

fan197: see i knew i wasn’t crazy when i said we saw her around town these past few months

fan272: she’s gonna look great in stripes 🧡

fan8: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?? AHHWUFUEHF

sam_hubbard_: nice 😎

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