#might not watch the longest promise

[eigwayne]

The plot in Chongzi is picking up. But I still don't like the male lead. I don't like his attitude. The whole "I don't explain myself to you" was amusing when Huang Yaoshi did it in Legend of Condor Heroes, but it brought him trouble and Luo Yinfan is no Huang Yaoshi. And like, Luo Yinfan's whole possessive but negligent but indulgent style of mentoring Chongzi was a little creepy and annoying.

I suspect I am too picky for romance dramas.

[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!)

[leilakisakabiri]

Cut The Camera (LN)

Summary: Working as a reporter at the Miami Grand Prix when your boyfriend wins it.

Warning(s): None.

A/N: She's back! and with an F1 story of all things. Requests are open.

Word Count: 1.3k+

Masterlist

It was a warm day in May and you and your team were gearing up for another race weekend, this time in Miami.

Since Miami was the home base of your organization, and also your hometown, you decided to take the trip over from Monaco a few days earlier than everyone else.

That meant you had also left Lando behind, promising to see him once the race weekend started.

You wanted to spend some time with your family before work took over.

Now the weekend had arrived and you were busy getting ready in the garage, running through your pre-race questions and attaching your mic.

You were beyond excited. This would be the first time since you began working with F1 that a race would be held in your hometown and you had the opportunity to interview the drivers. Nothing could go wrong.

Pre-race questions went off without a hitch and you were able to interview at least three different teams drivers, which was a win for you.

Of course, you interviewed Lando, who was more than eager to answer any questions you had for him. In reality, he was just excited to see you again after being apart for a week.

"Good luck today." You gave him a genuine smile that the camera couldn't pick up.

He grinned back, handing you back the microphone, hand lingering on top of yours for a second too long, "Thanks. Feeling good about this one."

Since you had started dating six months ago, the longest the two of you had been away from each other was only a measly two days when Lando took a quick trip to London - other than that you had been attached at the hip. Of course both of you working in the same place and traveling to the same locations helped significantly.

However, although the staff at McLaren and around the pit were used to you two being affectionate, the rest of the world was not.

To them you were just y/n, the F1 reporter, who interviewed drivers and had no relations to anyone outside of that. They had never even seen you and Lando interact outside of work. Half the fans didn't know your name, so you flew under the radar pretty effectively.

You and Lando had been talking about the possibility of making your relationship a bit more public, nothing crazy, but just something small so people got the hint that he might be seeing someone. You wanted a soft launch, in hopes of reducing scrutiny, and Lando just wanted whatever you did.

As you passed the six-month mark in your relationship both of you grew annoyed at the prospect of never getting to be around each other. If you guys went to dinner, you would have to arrive first, and then around 15 minutes later Lando would show up. If you went out in a group, again, one of you would have to go first, with the second trailing behind after a couple of minutes.

You planned to wait until the season ended before making any decisions.

That was until today.

Things slowly started unraveling the closer the race got to finishing. You were sitting in the reporter tent, eyes trained on the monitor with bated breath as you watched Lando take the lead. You couldn't help the smile that broke onto your face when he managed to break through, you clasped your hands together, resting your chin on them while staring at the TV and trying your best to seem unaffected.

You shot out of your chair as the race drew to a close and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to not get overwhelmed with emotion once you heard the crowd start chanting Lando's name and your co-anchor in your earpiece screaming about Lando's first win.

You wanted to celebrate with him, so badly. He had done it. And in Miami no less.

You rushed your team as you tried to get to the barricade to watch the trophy celebration. You saw the McLaren team running to the podium, letting out a laugh once you realized a certain driver had jumped on them.

The entirety of the trophy celebration consisted of you yelling your lungs out cheering for your favorite person while also trying not to cry every time he looked up at the sky in disbelief.

"Y/n we're on in 10 let's head back." Your cameraman yelled over the crowd.

Once the drivers started to trickle back into the paddock after the celebration it was pure mayhem. Everyone was excited about Lando's first win and didn't have much to say in the debriefs leading to very short responses.

Finally, the man of the hour himself, came out drenched head to toe in champagne, a large grin settling onto his features once he spotted you, prompting him to immediately cut his conversation short and making a beeline to you.

He reached out to hug you, eyes twinkling with sheer joy, seemingly forgetting the camera was there, and you had to push his hands away below the camera lens so no one would notice.

His eyes immediately shot up to yours at the rejection, and you hoped he would understand once you started talking,

"Hello, Lando! Congratulations on the win, you're very first! How do you feel?" You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice.

He continued to gaze at you for a beat longer before responding, "It feels amazing. I'm so happy to have won, I feel like our team really put in the effort this week and it paid off. I for one wanted to win this weekend in particular."

You arched an eyebrow, a smile ghosting your lips, "Any reason why?"

His smile mirrored your own, "I've always loved Miami. Think this city has my good luck charm," He boasted.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his response, his boldness taking you off guard, as you moved to hastily tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes following your every movement.

You glanced back up at him, "What does this win mean for you?"

"It means everything." His words were rushed, almost like he physically couldn't hold them back any longer.

You waited for him to continue, "It means that all the sacrifices my parents had to make, all the years spent helping me, supporting me, and allowing me to chase my dreams even though it was a long shot, finally paid off. It means that I was finally able to make a team proud that has believed in me time and time again even when I gave them reasons not to. This win isn't just for me, it's for every single person who helped me get where I am, every person who made me who I am, and for those who continue to shape the person I'm becoming."

Your heart melted at his answer, and you could see the sincerity and passion so clearly in his eyes that it was hard to form a response,

"Well you earned the title you got today, and I'm sure every person you mentioned is immensely proud of what you've just accomplished. I'll leave you to celebrate with your team."

You wanted to end the interview there. After his emotional response, you weren't sure how much longer you could remain professional.

It seemed Lando had other plans though.

As you reached for his mic, his hand landed on top of yours, stopping you.

"No."

"No?" You looked up confused, but he was already leaning down.

His free hand wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you closer as his other hand pushed the mic against the camera, trying to block the shot.

Your head tilted back in his grip and your hand instinctively wrapped around his shoulder bringing him closer. It took your brain a few seconds to register what was happening, and where, and by then he was already pulling away, tugging you into his side as he looked down with a shit-eating grin.

Your cheeks were pink, and your mouth was slightly open, not believing what just happened.

You looked at your cameraman, and he seemed just as shocked, finally you spoke, voice unsteady, "Cut the camera?"

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 10,232...oops

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff

A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 

What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 

No one can help you. 

You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 

The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 

Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 

How long has it been up there? 

You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 

Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 

You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 

You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 

You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 

A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 

You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 

Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 

Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  

You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 

You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 

You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 

The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 

You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 

“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 

You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 

You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 

Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 

“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 

“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 

It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 

“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 

“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 

“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 

“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 

You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 

You just want to feel at home again. 

You want to be safe again. 

***

The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.

You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 

You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 

Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 

You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 

You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 

You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 

You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 

***

Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 

All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 

You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 

That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 

The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 

You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 

You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 

You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 

You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 

She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 

No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 

But what if she gets mad? 

Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 

You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 

“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 

You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 

“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 

You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 

“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 

“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 

Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 

“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 

There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 

You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 

You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 

You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 

You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 

They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 

Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 

One of many. 

You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 

At least, until they have to leave again. 

You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 

***

Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 

You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 

You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 

John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 

His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 

“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 

You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 

He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 

“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 

You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 

“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 

“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 

“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 

Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 

And so you do. 

Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 

They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 

Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 

***

“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 

“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 

“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 

“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 

“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 

“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 

“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 

“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 

“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 

John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 

“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 

You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 

He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 

Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 

So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 

Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 

Or maybe that was their plan all along. 

He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 

Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 

Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 

***

You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.

“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 

You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 

John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 

You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 

“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 

Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 

“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 

Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 

You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”

John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 

Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 

You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 

You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 

Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 

You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 

You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 

You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 

Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 

“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 

“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  

He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 

“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 

Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”

He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 

You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 

Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 

“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 

And here you are making things worse. 

“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 

“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 

You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 

Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 

They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 

You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 

This is your life now. This is your new normal. 

“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 

You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 

Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 

It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.

***

You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 

“Can you breathe under there?” 

You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 

“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 

“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 

“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 

He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 

“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 

You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 

The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 

“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 

John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 

He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 

You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 

His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 

“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”

You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 

“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”

You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 

At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 

You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 

He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 

You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.

Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 

The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.

The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 

***

“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 

“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 

Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 

John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 

“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”

“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 

“No promises.” 

Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 

He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 

He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 

He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 

John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 

Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 

“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”

“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 

“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”

“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”

The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 

Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 

Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 

“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 

“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 

He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 

An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 

He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 

He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 

“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.

“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 

“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 

He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 

“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”

“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 

“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 

John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 

If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 

John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 

Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 

You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 

Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 

Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 

Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 

How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 

Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 

He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 

John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 

Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 

Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 

“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 

Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 

It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx

@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg

@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff

@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60

@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine

@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows

@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Hotel Roommating

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Choi Yena, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 2014 words

Tags: Daddy kink, thigh kink, thigh fucking, pit licking, teasing, a slap, edging, cumming on skin, pet play, an offer you definitely should refuse but kinda can't, cum eating, missionary, fingering, orgy

TW: the usual, but I would consider this mostly tame... okay, maybe also not LOL

Inspiration: Yujin's outfit (check below (HOLY COW))

(A/N: Sex in the hotel continues... though it might not be the best or longest piece, I promise the ending will make it worth while ;) Have fun!)

“Room Service!"

For a second there, she got you. Fear runs down your back, ice cold, as you grab the door handle. No room service could ever be allowed to see or smell the absolute mess you made here. Especially Chaewon, who leaks down the phallic plastic onto the table, while watching a teary eyed Minju follow you to the door, your cock in her hand. 

Fortunately, you do recognize the voice behind the door. It’s familiar, not some room service lady that could ruin your life and the reputation of at least one popular girl group. You turn the knob and reach for the woman behind the door in the blink of an eye.

“You scared me for a second, you fucking brat,” you yell at Yujin, but that was before you took a look at her outfit. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood right now.”

“Oh, I’m in a good mood too, Daddy,” Yujin teases and gets ready to kick off her shoes, open up her dress and offer herself to you (you know she is in heat; she has been for a while most likely), but you stop her.

“You keep that outfit on,” you order and spin her around. “My cock needs to be in between your thighs while you still look like a Goddess of fertility with that shiny, stupid fucking outfit.”

“Oh Daddy,” Yujin giggles and watches your tip glide in her tight gap. “Wasn’t Minju enough for you? And what happened to Chaewon-unnie?”

“Care to guess?”

“She is one of us now?”

You smirk and lean in to bite your girlfriend’s neck. “One hundred points.” You begin to slowly thrust in between the sweaty trunks that are Yujin’s legs, perfect sculptures of smooth marble, but a lot softer and infinitely more valuable. Yujin hums in pleasure and lifts her arms to reach around your neck while you continue to place marks on hers. There is no concert the next few days, so no one will notice the love bites you place on her. 

“Minju, mind helping me out here?” you suddenly ask and Minju jumps in surprise. You know she is still needy, unsatisfied, but would never touch herself without your permission, so you want to give her a bit of a reward. “Lick our Daeng-Daeng’s pits clean. I promise you, she tastes wonderful.”

“O-okay, Daddy.”

You can see in her eyes that Minju has never done this before. It’s a waste though, so you pull at her strings (she is a good girl after all) and take into view how incredible she looks. Minju sticks out her tongue and drags it across the entire pit. Yujin trembles, her thighs gently swaying around your shaft. An incredible feeling, but what makes it exceptionally great is the lewd sounds the two produce. Tender moans, wet licks, soft bodies rubbing one another to the point where nothing could be more intimate. 

“D-does it tickle, Yujinie?” Minju asks when she switches sides, her hands secretly placed on your own. You both have a hold on the young woman’s hips and Minju’s question goes unanswered when she goes straight to sucking on the opposite sensitive, hairless, sweaty spot. 

Holding back would be offensive. There are the two best thighs wrapped around you, while Minju’s soft belly becomes a home for your tip. With every thrust you poke her and she seems to really enjoy it. Maybe she is—no, she definitely is—thinking that you are pointing at her fertile womb, ready to be filled and bred. That’s why her orbs sparkle the way they do, that’s why she pulls you two into a threeway hug where Yujin gets squeezed and overstimulated at spots she didn’t think could be this sensitive.

“D-Daddy, I thought you were teasing,” Yujin mumbles. “But I feel so good, so hot. Please, cum on me, paint my milky thighs, it would fit them so well.”

“I can feel you melting, baby girl.” You lean in to give her ear a love bite, with all your love and sufficient force to make her dizzy with pleasure. “Since you asked so nicely, I will cover you, claim you with my seed.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” A sudden make-out session ensues after Yujin lowers her arms, leaving Minju jobless and needy as ever. There is salty sweat around her lips and in her mouth while she watches you and Yujin trade sweat saliva in heated passion. Your cock is buried in her gap, then quickly peaks out again as you begin to rapidly fuck it. “I can’t believe you got Chaewon-unnie already. Was it really that easy?”

You both turn your head to the shivering, squeaking but not (yet) dildo-riding Chaewon, whose head might be in even more heat than Yujin. Her face is red like the ball gag in her mouth and the only thing cooling her off are a few tears from her unfocused eyes. You love that she looks so obedient and pathetic, far away from what she dreamed off. Yet you decide to be more than merciful. 

“Minju, how about you put your hands on Chaewon’s hips? Maybe let some of Yujin’s sweat run down her cheeks? I think that should cool her off.”

“Okay, Daddy~”

With a sight like that—Minju behind Chaewon, who desperately looks up to the taller girl, hips in a firm, loving hold; then, Minju drools all over her face and you know that Chaewon is on cloud six, maybe seven, more pleasure yet to come—your orgasm is rapidly approaching. You bend Yujin over a bit, press her thighs back to you to meet your pistoning hips. The swollen cockhead peeks out a few more times before—

A knock at the door.

—you become an artist. Trapped in heavenly softness, you release all of your load on the inside of Yujin’s thighs. You use your throbbing cock like a brush to smear the white goo over more parts of her skin. It has to stick on her and not fall to the carpet floor. With a strained voice, you call out: “Minju, get our new pet in here. And don’t forget to close the door!”

“W-what? Pet?” Yujin tries to catch her breath, but her jaw drops the second she sees Yena run through the door and fall on her knees. “Yena-unnie, what, what is happening?”

“No need to call her Unnie, she is our new pet,” you announce and reach for Yena’s collar. “Isn’t she a beautiful kitten? Kitten, what did I say about clothes, hm?”

“Meow,” Yena responds, very apologetic. You kind of admire her for wearing just this thin, way too short crop top and hot pants that barely cover her small ass, but no kitten would wear those, so she quickly kicks them off, now just as nude as the other girls—most of the other girls.

“Ye-Yena, is this true, you are with Daddy too?” Minju asks, just as perplexed as Yujin is. Yena nods in excitement, while you get a leash for her beautiful pink collar. “But why a kitten?”

“Well, don’t we all like different things?” you ask Minju with a big grin. You secure Yena on the leash and walk her across the room for a couple of steps. “As long as Yena likes it, I think this would be a great addition to our… arrangement.”

“A family pet,” Yujin whispers, all eyes on her. Now it’s out there, this crazy idea. No sane person could say yes to it. Everyone at some point returns to their level-headed, not horny self. The mere suggestion of living together as a quasi-family where sex is boundless and the concept of patriarchy is pushed to ridiculous extremes should push them all away. 

“When I’m the family cat,” Yena suddenly speaks into the tense silence, her voice filled with wonder. “I have to move in with you two. Would that be a problem?”

“No, we have enough space and money,” Yujin quickly responds. “In fact, I think we can cover all your expenses.”

“Sounds good, I’m in. Meow!”

Yena smirks and crawls towards Yujin who stares down at her with love and lust. Suddenly, Yena’s face dives in between Yujin’s thighs and she starts to lick off your cum like it’s ice cream on a hot August day. Yujin mewls, opens her legs a bit more so Yena can get every last drop. 

“Well, I already live with Daddy and Yujin.” Minju looks at the floor, a little embarrassed. She scratches the back of her neck and then shares glances with you and Yujin. “If it’s okay, I will stay with your family, maybe as a sister?”

“That sounds great,” you tell Minju, as your eyes betray you. They are so fixated on Yena’s hunger for your cum, for Yujin’s scent, God, she is devouring your girlfriend. If it weren’t for the stage outfit, Yena surely would’ve pushed her tongue into Yujin’s cunt—who can blame her? IVE’s leader is irresistible. “Your presence is always welcome, Minju.”

“I think Chaewon c-can’t join,” Yujin murmurs, her hand in Yena’s pink strands, sweaty from all the hard cleaning she does to her thighs. Seriously, she starts to leave hickeys there now. You pull at the chain to signal her stop. “She has to stay at the LE SSERAFIM dorm.”

“Well, Chaewon is my best friend and best friend’s usually don’t live with another family,” Minju explains. You put Chaewon’s jaw into your hand and look at her begging eyes. Before you pull out the ballgag, you give her face a quick slap, one that stings for a bit. 

“I bet you think we are all crazy, I get that, but—”

“Don’t defend yourself, Daddy,” Chaewon says, gasps, somehow she gets these words passed her pursed lips while the dildo is deep in her cunt. “As Minju’s friend, I sh-should come over every now a-and then…”

“I’ll make sure to reward you then, my little slut~”

“Thank you, Daddy.” You push the ball gag back into Chaewon’s mouth and give Minju a wink. It’s a sign she thankfully understands and suddenly, Minju makes Chaewon ride the dildo with all her power. A creaming pussy starts to cover the glass table, screams almost make it past the restriction in between her teeth and you can feel her bliss fill the air.

You step close to Yujin. She laughs weakly and shakes her head.

“You’re insane, a madman!”

“Oh yeah?” You reach for the back of her dress and a zip later, Yujin’s excellent body is free. Yena mewls at this first sight and if she had a tail (still on the list of items you have to get her) she would wag it like crazy. “You are probably right, I lost my sanity the first time I met you.”

Yujin giggles and removes the leather end of Yena’s chain from your hand. She puts it in her mouth and with doe, puppy eyes slowly kneels next to her kitten friend. Your cock twitches, obviously. Somewhere in this hotel room filled with the smell and sound of unbridled sex, your phone vibrates. You don’t care. They can leave a message. You have better things to do.

“Looks to me like you’re the insane one, the madwoman.” 

You push her over, on her back. Yujin’s legs wrap around you like Yena’s pussy wraps around your fingers. You push your rehardened cock into that tight, tight little cunt of your girlfriend and fuck her into the carpet with no thoughts. There is nothing but blankness in your head and there will be for the next week or so. Just you and Yujin. And Yena, who sucks on Yujin’s tits and fucks herself on your hand. And Minju, who is thrilled about Chaewon riding that cock through multiple orgasms. Well, maybe Chaewon will be here too. 

Text messages pop up on your phone. They are from Hyewon.

“Hey Daddy, my final day before maternity leave is next week. I need you here earlier though, because someone important wants to do an internship here.

“The one and only

“Jang Wonyoung.”

[outsideratheart]

Healing (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: This took me a lot longer to finish than I hoped but it’s done. Grab a drink and get comfy because it’s a long one, in fact I think it’s my longest fic to date.

The world had its questions and you were well aware of the headlines.

Y/N Y/L/N quits football.

Where is Y/N Y/L/N? Here's what we know.

The best in the world has vanished.

If you find Y/N tell her Sarina is looking for her.

The last twelve months had been the hardest in your life. You thought you could prepare for it, that it would easier because you knew it was coming but that wasn't the case. The day it happened was the day your heart broke and as you buried her you knew you were burying part of yourself too.

You left the world speculating as to why you didn't extend your contract with Lyon, why you never signed for another club and more importantly people were wondering where you had disappeared to.

Both your club and country team mates knew about your personal life and the tragedy that happened shortly after the euros. 

You missed football, of course you did, but you also needed to take time away to process what had happened. A return date was never set but then the world cup happened. You watched your team mates cry after losing to Spain and you couldn't help but feel partially responsible. The game might have ended differently if you had played.

A decision had been made. It was time to return to the pitch. You had offers before and after the euros. The only question is what teams would still want you? 

The sun was setting in Barcelona as the team finished up a late training session. Most of the players stayed behind to take advantage of the free food given they knew once they got home they wouldn't have the energy to cook themselves.

“Lucy your phone is ringing” Ona shouts over to where the English defender is filling her plate. 

“Who is it?” Lucy replies. 

Ona’s face floods with guilt. Almost as if she shouldn’t be looking at the phone. This sparks interest of those around her but no one more than Keira who sees the name on the screen. 

“Y/N” Lucy all but ran back to table after hearing Keira say your name “is everything ok? Where are you? Yes I’m with Lucy. Before I hand you over promise me that you’re ok? Good” 

Keira hands over the phone and watches Lucy’s face as she tries to figure out why you called and what you are talking about. 

“Yes there are people around me. Ok, I’ll ask” 

When you hang up the phone Lucy does as you ask or at least she makes the first step. 

“Alexia” Lucy walks around to where the captain is sat with Mapi and Ingrid “Who would I talk about signing a new player?”

“It’s not our job to recruit players but if you know something that might help the club then tell me and I will ask” Alexia wasn’t stupid. She heard your name and now Lucy was asking this. It wasn’t a coincidence. 

“I can’t. This is a sensitive subject” 

“Vale. Talk to Jona and if he thinks the player is right for the club then he can set up a meeting” 

Alexia left the training facility that night thinking of you. You were at the peak of your career, many people considered you the best in the world and if she is being honest she thought you would win the Balon d’Or, not her. That night Alexia watched your highlights for hours, even the ones in the games against her. You really were a once in a generation player which makes it that much harder for Alexia to understand why you walked off the pitch at Wembley and hadn’t been seen on one since. 

The next day at training the energy felt different. Lucy and Keira had a sense of happiness that their team mates hadn’t seen before. They would gather around Lucy’s phone but then hide it when somebody came close to them. 

Jona came walking into the gym with Xavi Puig right behind him and called over both Keira and Lucy. A couple of players watch the conversation unfold and tried their hardest to read their lips.

“Ingrid, what are they saying?” Mapi nudges her girlfriend.

“They’re talking about Y/N Y/L/N” Alexia was stretching on the floor playing no part in the eavesdropping.

“How do you know?” Ingrid asks her.

“She called Lucy yesterday and then Lucy talked to me about the club signing a new player. I can’t know for sure but that’s what I think is going on”

A couple of days later you landed in Barcelona, greeted by the warm weather and your two England team mates who kept a low key appearance in the arrivals hall. You stop when you are a meter away them. You didn’t know what to do, you hadn’t seen them in almost a year. 

“Come here” Lucy throws her arms around you followed by Keira.

“We’re so happy to see you Y/N. We really have missed you” 

You remain quiet as you walk to the car. Both of them fill you in on what the team is like and you make sure to remind them that you haven’t officially signed yet.

“Jona mentioned that. You want a trial training session?”

“It’s the right thing to do” you didn’t want any special treatment. You wanted to earn the right to play for the club and not just be handed the contract.

“You could have not played football for 5 years and still run rings round all of us” Lucy knows you the most having played with her at both club and country. You were too humble in her eyes so she took it upon herself to remind you of your greatness from time to time.

“I never said I haven’t played football. That has been the thing to get me through the past 10 months” you didn’t mean to be a downer, in fact you didn’t know what you were saying until it was too late.

“How are you doing?” Keira asks from the front seat and you see Lucy eyeing you up in rear view mirror.

“Some days are harder than others and no day has been easy. She would be happy that I’m here though. She always said that if I didn’t go back to England then she’d want us to come here”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name. 

“She always did hate the french winters” Lucy laughs at the memories she shared with your wife.

Your mind goes back to just a couple of years ago. Lyon were playing at home and the weather was awful. You saw Natalia in the crowd shivering but still she cheered you on, she always was your biggest fan. Come rain or shine, your girl was in the audience. You hated the thought of playing without her being in the crowd but you also knew she wouldn’t want to give up your career.

“Y/N” Keira gently nudged your knee. It was obvious that you were taking a trip down memory lane and she didn’t want to scare you.

“Huh” you quickly wiped away a tear “Oh we’re here” you grabbed your backpack and jumped out of the car leaving them in the front not knowing what to do.

“Let’s leave her be. She knows we are here and will come to us when she’s ready”

You were in awe as you walked the halls of Joan Camper. The things the team has achieved were that of greatness. It was a club that created legacys and you found yourself feeling something that you hadn’t in a long time; excitement.

Lucy and Keira lead you to the locker room just as they were instructed to. The rest of the team were already out of the field which was part of the plan. There hanging in a corner locker was a training kit for you. You didn’t expect it and you definitely didn’t expect to have been given your number.

“You did this?” You ask the pair.

“Salma did. The team knows you called Lucy and when Salma heard to locker room rumours of you joining she insisted. Between us she is a big fan of yours, bigger than Luce”

“Not possible” the defender joked.

The boots were fastened and you were ready, well almost ready. There was one thing you wasn’t prepared for. You looked down at your necklace. It was a simple gold chain that held two rings: yours and Talia’s.

“I can’t do it” you slumped down in defeat and bury your face in your hands.

“Hey” Lucy crouches down in front of you “they let us wear jewellery for training, you can keep them on”

You walked out onto the field and all eyes fell on you. You felt like a spectacle and you hated the attention. They didn’t know the current version of you, they had only met the old Y/N so you channel her and introduce yourself to them during the next drinks break.

“I know some of us have met as opponents but this is different. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope I can keep up” you make a joke hoping to avoid the elephant in the room.

“We’ll see about that. I’m Alexia” She is the first person to you.

“Lovely to meet you Alexia” 

It’s hard to explain the feeling when you’re playing football. It’s as if you mind switches off whilst also been completely focused. It take a few attempts to get into the rhythm that is Barcelona football but you catch on quickly. It comes as no shock to the rest of the team that you play in complete sync with Lucy and Keira. The two of them even stay back at the end to work with you on some movements that you weren’t pleased with.

Some players go shower but a few stay behind, albeit out of sight, and watch you. 

“She has a gift” Alexia says to nobody in particular.

“Nobody has seen her in over a year and this is how she is playing. Look, she is running rings around them. How is that possible?” Patri adds.

“Does anybody know where she was?” Pina asks the small group.

“No but I could ask Ingrid or Caro to ask Ada. They are best friends and surely you would tell your best friend where you are going” Mapi forms a plan in her head, one that she will soon find out to be a bad idea.

“Do it” Alexia tells the defender “We are a family here and if she joins us then we have a right to know where she has been”

When Barcelona posted a photo of you signing a contract on their socials the world went crazy. The media were relentless and the fans were quick to show their support for you even though some were skeptical about your sudden reappearance and new team. 

You ignored them for the most part as they had no idea what had happened. You fit into the team almost right away and was enjoying every game with Barcelona. You scored on your debut and had been involved in a goal every game since. Months had passed and much to your surprise you had only been asked about the missing year once or twice. 

Caro refused to ask Ada about you and Ingrid only did when her girlfriend became obsessed with finding out the truth. Ada’s answer was simple ‘I won’t tell you and if she doesn’t want you to know then you should respect her wishes’.

You remained a mystery though and for the most part the team seemed to forget about your missing year. 

When the second international window came that is when things changed and you felt like you made a friend. Mapi still wasn’t representing her country so she reached out and asked if you wanted to meet up for a coffee. 

Anybody could easily be intimidated by the blonde but you liked her. She had this energy that made you know accepting her invite was a no brainer. That and you had questions of your own. 

“How did you know?”

Mapi places down a a small coffee in a glass; a cortado. 

“I asked Keira what you ordered”

A comfortable silence took over as the two of you sipped on your coffees. You found it funny the way Mapi looked at you then her coffee and back to you again. You recognised the signs; you were making her nervous. Why though you had no idea.

You decide to make the first move and you get straight to the point much to the defender’s surprise.

“I spoke with Ada”

This got her attention. You had your suspicions but the look on her face confirmed it. Still, she played along.

“That’s nice. You’re very close, no?” Mapi tried her best to look innocent but you weren’t having any of it and the look on your face told her that.

“She had an interesting conversation with Ingrid. Do you happen to know anything about this?”

She did. You know she did. 

“No” you got a sheepish look from Mapi and you wondered if she knew how unconvincing she was being.

“I think you did. I think you got Ingrid to ask Ada about me”

“Lo siento”

“Here’s the thing I don’t understand. I know you all want to know, you’ve been whispering about me for months yet not one of you has come to me and asked me directly. You have been going behind my back trying to dig up information about a time that I clearly don’t want to talk about”

Mapi dips her head. She truly thought that her and the team were been careful but obviously not. 

“Maria, I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Would you want to talk about it with strangers when you barely talk to your best friends about it?”

The defender thinks about it for a moment. You had barely left Lucy and Keira’s side but she hadn’t really heard you talking, you were always listening to what they were saying and replying when necessary.

“It was bad wasn’t it?” She asks. 

“The worse year of my life” you confess and you can your throat close at the thought of the months in question.

“We are in jail?” 

You cannot help but chuckle at her words.

“No, I was not in jail”

“Did you kill somebody?”

“No, I did not kill anybody”

“So no crimes were committed?”

“Is that what you have all come up with? That I broke the law?” 

“Most of us, yes. Aitana think’s you were in the hospital because you were sick”

Her response came at the worst time possible. You spit your coffee out when you hear the midfielder’s suspicion. 

Technically she was right. You were in the hospital but you weren’t in the hospital.

“I wasn’t sick” 

“Clearly. Look at you, you’re huge. I mean you are big. No, you are strong”

“Calm down Mapi, I know what you mean. Thank you” 

The two of you stay in the cafe for another hour. You take this time just the two of you getting to know one another. You ask Mapi about her tattoos and she learn’s you have a few of your own which are hidden on your back. When she asks for their meaning you promise you will tell her the stories another time. 

You both walk to the metro station and by coincidence you end up of the same train. You get off before her and just before the door opens, Mapi grabs your hand.

“I’ll get them to stop. You don’t owe us an explanation, Y/N” 

“Thank you Maria” 

You’re not sure what the tattooed defender said but the whispers stopped or so you thought. They stopped whispering in front of you but little did you know the speculations were still going on behind your back. It is early in December when things come to a head and you snapped. 

“What do you mean she is staying Spain?” Alexia asked Salma. 

“That she is staying her in Barcelona. She said she might go to Valencia for a few days but that’s it” the forward wasn’t sure what to say or if she should have said anything at all.

“And you don’t think that is strange? This is woman who used to love England. The fans called her Queen of England, por dios. How can she be apart of this team if we know nothing about her. She is lying to us” Alexia ranted on and who knew how much longer she would have continued if not for Lucy interrupting her.

“Alexia, that is enough!” Lucy slams her fist on the locker before turning to her captain “She has come to this team and done nothing but good. She plays well for us and gives it her all on the pitch. Off it she makes the effort and yes sometimes she says no to things but isn’t that her right? You stand there as our captain but look at you, you’re nothing but a bully. I am ashamed to say i’m your team mate right now. That girl has been through hell these past couple of years and since coming here all you keep doing is reminding her of what has happened. You are obsessed with her. Look around, no one else is digging for information. No one is making her uncomfortable on a daily basis”

“She is lying to us. She won’t tell us where she was for over a year. She is hiding something and that isn’t fair on us” Alexia tried to defend her actions.

“Isn’t fair? Are you really that self centred? You have no right to talk about what is and is not fair. I don’t care if you are my captain, I won’t stand by you while you treat my best friend like she has done something wrong. You, Alexia, are a —“

“Lucy” The whole locker room turns upon hearing your voice “I have given up on Alexia, it’s time you do too”

“No! I won’t let her talk about you that way. You don’t deserve this”

“No I don’t but —“

“Y/N” Lucy begs you to let her fight you case.

“Walk away Lucy” 

A stare down takes place between you and Lucy. A few seconds later the defender grabs her stuff and leaves the room. To everyone else you are calm and collected but Keira recognises the look in your eye, you are furious.

“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good. My past is none of your business. To those who have let the obsession go, thank you. To those that haven’t” you look Alexia dead in the eye “I want nothing to do with you. I will remain civil on the pitch. Other than that I ask you to stay away from me. That’s if you can respect my wishes. I know it has been hard so far”

You quietly gather your things and try to ignore the multiple sets of eyes on you. With each second you can feel your chest getting tighter and you know it is only a matter second before you will no longer be able to control your breathing. You just needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes.

The hallway is the furthest you get. Your mind was filled of flashbacks, the moments that you tried so hard to bury. The past was not a pretty place, not the last year, but you know that it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down on you. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Mapi and Ingrid are by your side, clearly the couple had left just after you.

“Natalia, she, she” 

Ingrid and Mapi shared a look, who was Natalia? They had never heard you mention a Natalia before. Both of them didn’t know what to do. Whilst you had become friends with the pair, they didn’t know you well enough to cope with this moment. 

Luckily for them Keira appears out of nowhere. The English woman clearly equipped with what to do.

“Get Lucy, now!” She whisper shouted and Ingrid goes running hoping to catch the defender before she leaves.

“Keira—Natalia”

“I know, I know. We can talk about her later if you want. Right now, I need to focus on me. Can you do that?” 

You nod your head as tears flow down your cheeks. 

“What happened?” Lucy rushes over to you.

“We found her on the floor. She kept talking about Natalia” 

“She told you?” Lucy asks shocked. She knew you wasn’t ready to tell them team but in a state of panic you might be let it slip.

“No. She only said her name” Mapi says. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. This wasn’t a panic attack, no she had seen one of those before. This was something much more intense.

A few minutes pass and Keira manages to keep your breathing under control but you’re still not ready to move. Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid stay close making sure to tell anyone who passes to keep moving.

“What is going on?” Alexia asks with concern, a concern that doesn’t reach Lucy in fact her asking is the worst thing she could have done.

“Get away from her” Lucy is up on her feet and pushing Alexia backwards. She would has fallen to the floor if not for the wall behind her “This is all your fault. You see this, you see her, this is what you have done to her”

“Lucy” you reach up and take her hand. The defender used her strength to pull you up. 

You, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid walk towards the exit of the stadium.

“Y/N” Alexia’s voice is soft and it is only now that she realises she might have taken things too far.

You turn around to face the Catalonian. For the first time since arriving you make no effort to hide the pain you have felt on a daily basis.

“I want nothing to do with you Alexia”

A week had passed and Alexia started to worry about you more so than she wanted to let on. Lucy and Keira were visibly worried about you and kept an eye on you at all times. She was confused at how things got this bad. Yes, she knew that maybe things had been taken too far but you didn’t show rage, your energy radiated nothing. You were numb. The Barcelona captain had no idea how to make things right with you.

You wore a smile on your face in front of the cameras and fans but behind closed doors it’s liked you switched your emotions off. Alexia asked Mapi about you but it seemed that even her closest friend was on your side. The zaragozian and her girlfriend had become close with you since the incident and Alexia didn’t understand why.

One night she found herself knocking on Mapi’s door hoping to find out how things got so bad.

When the captain was let in there is an evident scowl on Ingrid’s face which Alexia did not expect. The Norwegian excuses herself stating that she needed to go to the supermarket.

“Mentiroso” Alexia says to herself.

“Watch it Alexia. She has her reasons” Mapi jumped to her girlfriend’s defence.

Mapi leads Alexia over to the kitchen table and gets a glass of water for the two of them.

“You’re here about Y/N, aren’t you?” her captain nods “I don’t know what to tell you. What happened in the locker room was bad Ale. We didn’t leave the stadium when you thought we did. Y/N used everything in her to make sure Lucy didn’t do something she would regret. I don’t know what happened during those months but whatever we think it is, it’s so much worse. I shouldn’t be telling you this but she kept mentioning Natalia, I don’t know who that is but I think something happened to her”

Alexia thought she felt guilty about the way things went down with the two of you but that failed in comparison to how she was feeling now. To think that you were grieving someone and her questions were it worse for you, well it made her feel ashamed. 

She knew that she hadn’t been the most welcoming. Yes, you and her got a long on the pitch and yes, you were ok at training but she hadn’t made the effort she should have to make you feel at home in Barcelona.

“I don’t know how to fix it Mapi. You know I like her, I think she is amazing—“

“You were her biggest fan” the blonde teased

“But what if I’ve ruined any chance for being friends with her? What if what I’ve done is undoable?” Alexia ignores Mapi comment seen as though she knows she cannot deny it.

Mapi was at a loss for words. She always has had her friend’s back but there was something about you which made her want to protect you and Alexia was someone that you needed protection from.

“You need to give her space Alexia. This week alone I have seen you walk towards her then walk away at least 6 times. Y/N even asked me why you were doing it. You’re making the girl feel uncomfortable” 

Alexia mentally scolded herself for her behaviour which in her defence she did not think anyone noticed. 

“So space?” Alexia asks.

“Space” Mapi confirmed.

Alexia found it hard at first because she wanted nothing more than to make things right with you but she did as suggested, she gave you space. She saw you start to come out of your shell a bit more as December rolled on. The day game before the Christmas break you were playing in Madrid and that is when Alexia heard you discussing your winter plans with Keira.

“Keira, that’s a sweet offer but I’m sure. I’m going to stay in Barcelona, it is my home now”

The Catalonian took a little comfort in knowing you had grown the love her city despite the hostile behaviour.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas. She would want you to be home for that” your friend asked.

“I don’t know if I can handle going back for Christmas. It would hurt too much”

It felt wrong for Alexia to eavesdrop on your conversation so she leaves out of respect.

“She wouldn’t want you to avoid England. The two of you spent years in France and both of you said coming home to England was your favourite thing to do”

“Keira, stop. It was our favourite thing. There is no more our, no us. It’s just me”

Keira could see your hands shaking. This is the first sign of your panic attack so she drops the subject. She does suggest you going away with them for new years and you said you would as long as it isn’t in the UK or France. 

The team had one last recovery session before the winter break and it’s safe to say when it was done everyone was more than happy to go home. You wished everyone a Merry Christmas and without knowing it, Alexia is included.

“Feliz Navidad Alexia, por tu y tu familia” 

“Gracias Y/N” 

To Alexia this was a gift in itself. Maybe you were opening up to idea of forgiving her. After that you quickly grab your stuff and run off to where Ingrid was waiting for you.

After that interaction, Alexia couldn’t stop thinking about you. She also thought she was hallucinating when she saw your name appear on her phone screen. In the rush of leaving the training facility you picked up the wrong bag, only realising when got home a few hours later and your shirt had an 11 on instead of a 7. You texted Alexia asking if you could meet up to get your stuff back. Alexia, at that point was already at her mother’s house so she sent you that address and told her mum that you were coming over.

You tried to ease your nervous as you drove to your captain’s mother’s house. It was going to be awkward, this much you knew but regardless of the place you and Alexia were in, you wanted to make a good impression on her family. 

The knock was gentle as you stop on the door step.

“Y/N, hola. Adelante”

You didn’t know that word meant but you put two and two together and guessing in meant come in so that is what you did. Eli leads you to the living room after telling Alba to go get her sister. Eli headed back into the kitchen and left you in the living room. You didn’t want to take a seat, it wasn’t that kind of visit so you looked around and a wall of photos gains your attention.

Alexia couldn’t have been more than 7 years old. She was adorable. Next to her stood her younger sister and behind her, her parents. You didn’t recognise the man so you assume Alexia’s father works away a lot as you have never seen him at a game.

“That’s Jaume, Alexia and Alba’s father” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught stooping.

“And your husband” you turn to face the woman “I haven’t seen him around, does he work in a different city?”

“Jaume passed away a little over ten years ago” 

She is a widow, like you. That is the first thing you thought. In that moment you had so many questions for her but this is a woman you had only just met. It’s not exactly the small talk she would be expecting. The two of you go quiet and you guess she is thinking about her lost love, just as you are thinking about yours.

Alexia comes downstairs, your bag in hand but stops at the door was upon seeing you in conversation with her mother. Alba nudges her forward but she doesn’t move. The two of them watch you.

“Does it ever get easier?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The two sisters share a look. They had no idea what you were talking about and by their mother’s response, she didn’t either.

“Que?” As expected, the question catches Eli off guard.

“Living without the person who promised you forever” you turn to face the older woman with tears falling down your cheek.

“Oh Querida, come here” 

You feel comfort in her arms and for a brief few seconds you forget that she is a stranger. In this moment she is someone who understands your pain and that is more than enough for you. When you pull away you see Alexia and Alba, you feel extremely exposed.

“Hi. You must be Alba” you wipe the last of your tears and extend your hand towards the younger Putellas.

She swats away your hand and pulls you into a hug.

“So formal” Alba laughs “you’re even hotter in person” 

“Alba!” Both Eli and Alexia scold her.

“What? I’m being honest” 

“Thank you, I think. Is that mine?” You point the bad Alexia is holding.

“Yes. Sorry for the mix up” 

“No, no. It was my fault. I was running late for dinner with Ingrid. I left yours in the hall as I wasn’t sure where to put it”

Alexia stared at you almost as if frozen in place.

“Was I not suppose to do that? I can go get it for you”

“This is the most you’ve spoken to me since joining” Alexia was honest with what she was thinking.

“It must be the Christmas air” you laugh a little “speaking of, you three clearly have plans so I will leave you be” 

Eli tries to get you to stay but you can’t. The woman knew too much and even though shared the same pain, you knew it was only a matter of time before the pity eyes came. You also didn’t know how much the two sisters had heard.

Alexia asked and asked what the you and her mother were talking about but the woman refused to tell. The only answer Alexia got was to be careful with you and that not all is as it seems. It seemed to be enough for Alexia but she wasn’t giving up on you, not just yet.

She kept an eye on you over the Christmas break and just as you said you stayed in Barcelona. Alexia all but stalked your Instagram and even went as far as texting you some recommendations. You felt something towards the midfielder and it made you think that you might have been a little harsh on her. You made a mental reminder to speak to her once the break was over.

The first game back was away to Bilbao and it brought you the perfect opportunity to speak to Alexia as the two of you were roomed together. It was late by the time you got there so everyone went straight to their room. 

“Oh Y/N I don’t know what happened” Alexia says as she swiped the room key. 

“What are you — oh I see” 

There was only one bed, albeit a large double bed. 

You hadn’t shared a bed in almost a year and you wasn’t sure if you were ready for it. Now you had to find  a way to explain this to Alexia.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” Alexia suggests and even though you weren’t ready, you also knew you wasn’t going to let her do that.

“Alexia you are one of the most important players on the team. I cannot let you sleep on the floor. Take the bed, I’ll take the floor”

“Y/N, you are important too. You are our highest goal scorer. I am taking the floor, don’t argue with your captain”

She refused to take no for an answer and you hated it. When you came out the shower Alexia was on the floor and it looked awful. It was almost funny and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t say anything. Bed” Alexia laughed along with you.

The room was dark except from the street lights then peaked through the curtains. Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you and by the sounds of tossing and turning, Alexia was struggling too. 

“Alexia, come sleep in the bed” The thought of having someone sleep next to you wasn’t something you necessarily wanted but Alexia sleeping on the floor wasn’t fair.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable” 

There was something in her tone. She wasn’t talking about sharing the bed with a team mate, she was talking about sharing a bed in general. 

“She told you” Eli had to have told alexia about your conversation. 

“Who?” Alexia asked even though she knew you were talking about her mother. 

“Your mother. She told you about what I said”

“I asked but she didn’t tell me anything. I’m sorry that something happened to your friend” 

You sat up upon hearing her condolences. 

“My friend. What are you talking about?” 

Alexia, now sat up too, looked at you as if saying you know what I’m talking about.

“Natalia?” 

She said her name. Nobody had said her name. They knew it would cause too much pain. 

In that moment you are brought back to the last time someone said her name. It was the 5 November 2023 in a hospice not to far from your shared home in London. Natalia was the strongest woman you knew and no one would ever come close to her in your eyes. Yet just after Euros she told you that her time was coming, that the cancer was starting to win. You begged her to fight, you weren’t ready to lose her but you knew that you had been on borrowed time for many many years. The last person to say her name was a nurse as your wife took her final breath before she was called home.

“She was my wife” you could feel your nose twitch as a ball of emotion built in your throat. You knew the day was coming when you talked about her but you didn’t think it would come in Bilbao with Alexia now sitting at the foot of your bed.

The Catalonian knew she heard you correctly but she still sat in disbelief. She had no idea you were dating anyone let alone you were married. Alexia could do nothing but watch as you bury your head in your hand as your body racks with sobs. She wants to hug you, to hold you and to tell you to let it out but you weren’t that close. 

When you aggressively wipe your eyes you notice Alexia looking prettified and you cannot help but burst of into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to go get Lucy or Keira or anyone else who isn’t me” your captain panics and makes a bee line for the door. She is stopped in her tracks as your hand grabs her wrist.

“You don’t have to”

She didn’t believe you and that was made obvious as her eyes dart back and forward between you and the door. 

“Isn’t this what you have been wanting? To know why I walked away” you pat the side of the bed next to you.

You saw the hesitation is Alexia’s eyes. In that moment she wanted to respect your boundaries and you appreciated that but for the first time in a while the thought of talking about Natalia didn’t make you feel like you would break. 

Once she sat down you turn to face you and you saw the look many people had given you. She felt sorry for you. 

“I didn’t know you were married” 

“Not many people did. We never hid anything. If you look you’ll see her in a lot of photos, she always supported me” you get comfy knowing that this is going to be a long conversation “I’m a private person and all I ever wanted to do was protect her” 

In that moment Alexia understood for she too was a private person. She knew that she was in the limelight but she still kept herself to herself off the pitch. 

“How did she—“ Alexia stopped talking as soon as she realised what she was about to ask “sorry, I shouldn’t have said that” 

“Leukemia” you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three “she first got it when she was six. We used to take the day off school to go to the hospital. She would call me her emotional support friend” you laugh as you remember the way she made you wear a badge “she won the battle only for it to come back when she was 16 then again at 28. The third battle was the hardest for her and it was the one she lost” 

Alexia caught the way you couldn’t look at her whilst you talked about the hardest times of your wife’s life. 

“She sounds like a strong woman” 

“Oh she was the strongest. She went through so much yet you never would have known it. Natalia had this heart that was big enough to like up the whole world. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her. She supported me in the youths teams, was in the stands when I made my Arsenal debut and moved to France with me when I signed for Lyon. She said she’s followed me everywhere because she knew I’d be lost with her” 

When Alexia sees you laughing, she joins in too. 

“Things got bad just before the euros. I was so close to withdrawing but she begged me to go. She wanted to see me lift that trophy and I did, I did it for her. I didn’t know how bad it was until afterwards and I made the decision to be by her side. We did all the things on her bucket list. A couple of months later she couldn’t fight it anymore. Her strength was gone and the light was barely there. I was able to be by her side as she took her last breath” 

Alexia didn’t stop you as you got off the bed and made your way towards the window. She could tell by the way your hand went straight to your face that you were crying. 

“You wanted to know why I walked about?” You turned to face her and in that moment, knowing what she did, Alexia felt guilty. Guilty for reminding you of the loss you had suffered. 

“I walked away because I didn’t feel like I had a purpose. For so many years I played for her. I scored to see a smile on her face and I won my trophies so that I can give her my medals. I couldn’t return to Lyon without her and it felt wrong being in England” 

“Y/N I’m —“

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry. You didn’t kill her, the cancer did” 

You hated it when people told you they were sorry for your loss. Why? Why are they sorry? You heard it so many times that it made you numb. 

Alexia could tell that you were feeling a lot right now. She wanted to be there if you wanted to talk more about Natalia but she also knew the importance of changing the subject when it’s needed. 

“Can I ask you a question?” She looked at you with a sincere gaze.

“You can. Is it about Na—“ 

Alexia shakes her head.

“Why Barcelona?” 

It is a question that she had been desperate to know. You have now told her why you weren’t ready to go back to Lyon but plenty of teams would have offered you a contract if you announced your return.

“I said it wasn’t about her but turns out it was. Talia loved Spain and Barcelona was her favourite place. I honestly thought I would retire at Lyon but she always said that if she could pick a team I play for them she would choose Barcelona. When I decided to come back, it felt right to sign for Barcelona. Also, Lucy and Keira are here. As you have seen, I have depended on them quite a bit and I knew that it wouldn’t be easy so having someone who knew made everything easier”

You could see Alexia processing what you had told her. 

“I’m happy you don’t play for Lyon anymore”

“Yeah, you might be able to beat them now”

Alexia stared you down and you wondered what her next move would be. Turns out you didn’t have to wait long because a pillow soon smacked you in the face.

You both burst into laughter when the pillow fight turns competitive.

“We really should be getting some sleep” Alexia says as she stands.

You took a second to think. 

“You can sleep in the bed Alexia. I won’t freak out you know”

“Y/N I can’t. Not now”

“Oh stop. I’m not some fragile little doll that will break if she shares a bed with someone. Now get in bed” 

You pull the duvet back and pat the bed. It is only when Alexia gets in that you realise she is on your side and you are on Talia’s.

“You know this is my side of the bed” Alexia says as she gets comfy.

You had your reasons for sleeping on that side. You want to be closest to the door in case someone broke in. You wonder if Alexia has a reason.

“Got to make sure no one comes in and kidnaps you. Buenas noches Y/N” 

You fall asleep that night with ease. You no longer feel the weight of keeping your emotions at bay and having Alexia knowing the truth makes you feel at ease around her for the first time since you joined the club.

From that day on things were different between you and Alexia. You found yourself spending more time with her than you did with Lucy and Keira. The two of them found it strange but didn’t question it. Whilst the defender was still very much protective over you, she did see a change in her captain which lead to her giving her the benefit of the doubt. 

Life in Barcelona was finally what you imagined. Even in January the sun was shining and the sky was blue, unlike the weather you have been used to. The pain in your heart was still there but for the first time in a long whilst you felt happy or at least the closest thing to it that you could feel. Alexia has invited you to family dinner which happened after every other home game. Her mother and sister made you feel welcome. You had become rather close with Eli as she would often reach out to talk to you and check in with you. She didn’t need to say much, the fact that she could understand was more than enough. 

Alba was quite the character and there was never a dull moment with her. She would relentless tease her sister and it had you holding stomach with laughter.

You had received some calls that made you think about a few things. You thought about talking to Lucy and Keira about it but you knew their decision would be biased so you confided in Alexia one night as the two of you walked Nala along Barceloneta.  She helped you work though the feelings that the question brought up and by the the time you arrived back to your apartment, which you learnt was in the building opposite to hers, you knew what your decision would be. 

During the game against Atleti there was a certain Dutchwoman in attendance. It was the second to last game before the Nations league semi final, a game that England has got to by the skin of their teeth. Barcelona came away with a 2-0 win and a lot of the players stayed out on the pitch afterwards to greet the fans that came to support them.

Sarina stood near the locker room and praised the team as they entered. 

“Are you here for Lucy and Keira?” Aitana asked as she walked down the hall.

Behind her walked the two English women, along with Alexia. The latter knew to expect her, it made sense for her to come see you in person. The other two clearly had no idea that their national team coach was coming.

“She isn’t here for them” 

Alexia’s words cause Lucy and Keira’s heads to turn in surprise. 

“Y/N’s still out on the pitch. She is playing with Irene’s son Matteo, shall I go get her?”

“No, I can wait” 

Just as three of them were about to enter they hear your voice followed by a child’s laughter. You walked down the tunnel with Irene and her little boy. Sarina saw just how happy you were and for a brief moment she regretted coming. She questioned whether or not this is what is best for you.

“Gaffa” you saw the look on your team mates faces and chuckled. Surely they knew it was only a matter of time before Sarina came knocking “Let me get showered quickly and we will go” 

“But we’re going out tonight. It’s team night” Aitana sulked.

“I’ll meet you guys there” 

Alexia and you shared a look. She knew what this conversation was going to be about and she was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be and she was worried. You squeezed her shoulder and smiled before going into the locker room.

It was over 3 hours later that you finally enter the restaurant that the team were eating at. 

All heads turned to you as you walked through the door. The seat reserved for you happened to be next to Alexia which you don’t think was an accident. Lucy and Keira were sat opposite you and you see the look of suspense in their eyes. They hadn’t officially been told what you and Sarina were talking about but they had very good guesses. 

The rest of the team were having their own conversations and you didn’t want to make a scene so you nodded your head and that was enough confirmation for them.

“Yes!!” Lucy stood up suddenly and slammed her hands on the table.

“Holy fuck. Lucia, sit down”  

Lucy does as her told.

“Our captain is back” Keira said to herself. 

You tried your best to include yourself in the conversations around you but your mind kept wandering. You found yourself staring off into the distance. It is only when you feel a gentle hand on your thigh do you realise just how spaced out you were.

“Is everything ok? Did your coach say something because if she did then—“

“Stand down Ale” Alexia’s eye soften at the nickname. It wasn’t a new one for her but you had only just started calling her it and she loved it “I’m just thinking is all. What if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t have a place in that team anymore?” You lean into her and whisper.

“Y/N, they are your team. Yes you took some time away but you lead them for a long time and you told me they knew your reasons. It might take some time to get back into things but you will soon be back to how you were before. Besides if things go well for both of us then we will have a World Cup rematch on our hands and I want to see what might have happened if you played in the summer” 

Oh you didn’t think about that. You hadn’t given your upcoming opponents a second thought. Alexia was right. If England beat France then they will face Spain in the national league final. 

You thought there might be some awkwardness when you walked through the doors at the England camp but you couldn’t have been more wrong. Each player welcomed you with open arms and the players that you didn’t know as much treated you like everyone else did.

There were a few moments when you got pulled aside by Sarina for what she called her mental health checks. She promised that nothing said between you would be told to anyone else and you chose to believe her. You were honest about how heavy the shirt felt when it had the England badge on and you told her of the nerves you were feeling about playing for your country again.

Alexia had kept texting you to check in and for the most part you told her the truth. It was the day before the match when you got overwhelmed and instead of lying, you chose to ignore her. You knew it wasn’t fair but wanted to stay focused. You could bury your feelings for 24 hours. Alexia on the other had wasn’t going to give up on you.

“Alexia” Jenni nudged her friends leg “Earth to Alexia” 

The woman in question had her eyes glued to the her phone as you sent you yet another message.

“What do you want!” Alexia snaps.

“Hey, don’t snap at me. Who you texting? Is it a girl?” Jenni peaked over her shoulder.

“No” Alexia pulled her phone closer to her chest “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N Y/L/N is a girl last time I checked” Jenni couldn’t help but tease.

“She but I don’t like her like that, well I do. Wait! I don’t” Alexia slumps down in her seat  “Oh Jenni, I don’t know how I feel”

Jenni hasn’t seen her friend like this in a long while. Normally Alexia knows what wants and isn’t afraid to go for it. This though is different. It’s almost like she knows what she wants but she is hesitating and Alexia doesn’t hesitate.

“It’s ok not to know but something is clearly bothering you. What is it?” 

“She is ignoring me”

“Last time I saw you you told me she didn’t want anything to do with you”

So much had changed since then and she didn’t know how to explain it. In the end she told her everything she could without going into the finer details. Alexia confesses her feelings and explains that she cannot get a hold of you and that none on your team mates were answering either.

“Alexia, I may not know why she stopped playing football but I saw the way she played, she loves the sport. Her playing for England again is a big deal. Everyone is talking about her press conference she did this morning, it’s all over social media” 

Alexia wasn’t aware of a press conference. She never goes on social media the day before a match because it is quite often a distraction. Jenni picks up on her friend’s obliviousness and gives alexia her phone so she can see what is being said.

Jenni was right. You are everywhere. 

Y/N Y/L/N makes her return but what does it mean? Why now?

Sarina Weigman confirm Y/N is the captain of this team despite turning her back on them.

Beth Mead ruled out for Semi final, should be back for final if England are successful.

World Cup rematch? Y/N says that Spain wouldn’t have won if she was playing.

Alexia read headline after headline, article after article. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed so she couldn’t imagine what you must have been feeling. The last headline made the Catalonian laugh because she too had thought about what the outcome might have been if you were playing.

“I think the last one is a stretch” Jenni mumbles.

“We will never know” Alexia is ever more determined to get a hold of you. Just as she was about to call you again, a message comes through.

Hi. Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s been a lot. Thank you for checking in on me Alexia, I promise you I’m ok. Good luck in your match tomorrow.

“She’s ok” Alexia tells Jenni as if the forward was the one who was worried about you.

The next day you wake up and are ridden with nerves. It’s not a familiar feeling and you know that you need to calm down before the game or things will end badly. 

Despite protests from your team mates, you will start the game on the bench. It’s the right decision and you make sure to tell Sarina just that. Whilst the team’s recent performances have been spotty to say the least, you refuse to walk back in like nothing had changed. You know you need to earn your place on the pitch with the lionesses.

Spain’s game has an early kick off and finishes just after yours starts. The team get back to the hotel and have organised to watch it the hotel bar. Much to Alexia’s dismay she is called for Media seen as though Spain won and have qualified for the Olympics. 

When she finally joins the team she knows that the first half is over but that’s it.

“What’s the score?” She asks anyone who is listening.

“2–0” Ona says.

“That’s—“ Alexia is cut off before she can finish her sentence.

“To Germany” Jenni knows that Alexia would have wanted England to win if for no other reason than you “Y/N is going on for Toone” 

She cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips as your number goes on the subs board. 

The world watches as Mary runs over to you and gives you the band.

“Welcome back skipper” Mary pushes the band up your arm before you can stop her because she know’s that is what you’ll do. She was there in the captain’s meeting when you told Sarina that you didn’t deserve the captaincy.

“Game on, Maz” 

It felt right being on the pitch and wearing the three lions crest. You allow yourself to take in your return but only for a couple of seconds before you turn your attention to the game and the challenge that you face. 3 goals was a lot to ask for when Germany are playing as good as they are. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take everything you had but you never shied away from a challenge and you wasn’t about to start now.

After about ten minutes you found your rhythm and England were playing the type of football they are known for. It doesn’t take long for LJ to make a run and dance around the opposition. You have faith in her but follow her anyways in case she loses the ball. She doesn’t but Frohms does save her shot, she doesn’t save your rebound though.

“Get the ball” You shout to the Chelsea player. 

When the match restarts, the lionesses are on the hunt. Shot after shot is taken but somehow the ball stays out the net. England get a corner in the 80 minute and you’re lurking on the edge of the box, ready to make your run. Popp is the one marking you because she has studied you new way of play since joining Barcelona. Chloe’s corner is pin point and no amount of research in the world could stop you from getting the second goal and tying the game.

Alexia finds herself up on her feet with Ona and a couple of your team mates when you get your brace.

“Vamos Y/N” she says.

“You do realise that we will face them if they win” Misa reminds her.

“Right now, I don’t care. She deserves this and I’m celebrating my team mate” Alexia didn’t care if she might face you in the final.

“She told you” Aitana whispers as she pulls her captain down to the sofa “That is why she doesn’t hate you anymore and why you’ve stopped interrogating her”

Alexia does nothing but nod. Her fellow midfielder didn’t need to know anything else and she doesn’t ask for it either. She accepts that the reason must be valid if Alexia has dropped her questions.

There are 4 minutes announced of stoppage time. 

When you look up the the score board and see the number you get flashbacks on the euros final. You have been in this position before and came out victorious. Today was going to be no different. 

It was huge mistake by Germany when Gwinn takes down Hemp about a meter outside the box.

In the past you have found yourself stood over the ball with Beth but this game it’s Alex who stands beside you.

With her hand over her mouth she gives you strict instructions.

“You’re taking it” 

It’s not a question and you don’t argue.

“You have saved us tonight, now get your hattrick”

The amount of faith Alex had in you did wonders but it didn’t settle every nerve running through your body. Free kicks were your specialty, this wasn’t nothing new and the pressure was a familiar feeling. 

As soon as you strike the ball you know it’s going in. It’s a hard feeling to describe but many call it shooters instinct, it had never been wrong and it wasn’t now. The ball floated over the wall and went in the further part of the top corner. The shot was unsaveable. You ran over to the bench, more specifically to Sarina, to celebrate with the woman who gave you space and welcomed you back with open arms. 

“It’s like you never left”

Her words caught you off guard. For a brief moment you agreed with her but you got hit by the feeling of grief, you looked towards the family section and there was no one supporting you. Maybe some things hadn’t changed but a lot certainly has. When the full time whistle was blown your team mates ran towards you, all of the congratulating you on your performance and your first game back.

It was a weird kind of celebrations that night. The team was split, half wanted to celebrate getting through the final and the other half knew the job wasn’t done, they knew that the biggest task was yet to be faced. Spain had beaten them before and on the greatest stage, the UEFA national league final could either repeat history and England could rewrite it.

The team travelled to Madrid that night, only hours after the game. Upon arrival almost everyone went to their rooms but not you. You knew sleep wouldn’t come easy so you decided to wander the streets of Madrid. It had become a habit of yours, you would walk around and people watch. Every human had their own story to tell and it made you forget about yours.

You had no destination planned yet you found yourself stopping outside a hotel, the one you know from your text messages with Alexia, was the one the Spain team was staying at. 

A lot of feelings were running through you and you saw this as the universe’s sign that maybe you should talk about them. You have confided in Alexia since Sarina first reached out to you, she knew more than anyone how you really felt about returning and you talked about this very moment, the hours after your first game when the past is very much present in your mind. You remember the words she told you ‘when that happens you call me’ so that is what you do or at least that is what you go to do.

“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice say. You turn to see Jenni, Irene, Laia and Misa walking towards you.

“Hi guys” your voice is quiet, shy almost and you cannot help the way your eyes scan for Alexia knowing full well that these are the people she spends the most time with.

“What are you doing here?” Misa asks you. The two of you hadn’t formally been introduced but you had scored a brace against her in the El Classico.

“I’m—“ 

“Here for Alexia” Jenni says with a knowing look and you cannot help but feel like she knows something you don’t.

You can only nod. Apart from Irene, you didn’t know these girls very well and the version of yourself that you show to strangers is very different to the one that your friends see.

‘I can take you to her. We are roommates” Jenni seems sincere with her words but you feel a pang of jealousy. Everybody knew that the two of them used to date, it shouldn’t bother you, you had no right to be jealous yet that is exactly what you were feeling.

You think about it and Jenni can tell you are thinking about it.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about you and I know she will want to see you. She was your biggest fan when we watched the game” Jenni added hoping to create some sense of comfortability.

“She watched my game?” You asked in disbelief. You thought you had no one but maybe you did, maybe Alexia was the someone that was cheering you on but instead of the family area she was cheering you on from the hotel you were currently standing outside of.

“She did. I think she forgot she was Spanish for a minute” Irene says which causes you to laugh.

“I doubt that but I appreciate the support. You know I shouldn’t be talking to you, you guys are the enemy now” 

“Yet you came here for our captain, she will be your enemy too. Come on, I’ll take you to her. We wouldn’t want you to be spotted outside our hotel, just think of the optics” Jenni once again says.

“Ok” you nod your head a few times to solidify your answer.

The girls lead you through the hotel but only Jenni and Irene stay with you, Misa and Laia walk ahead. The longer you walk the more you begin wondering if this was a good idea. What if you are overstepping your boundaries. You had no right to be here and could easily be turned away at any point.

You enter the lounge area of the hotel which holds the majority of the Spanish national team yet your eyes search for only one. She see’s you before you see her and is walking over to you with a worried look on her face.

“Estas bien? What are you doing here?” Alexia’s arm rests on your shoulder.

“It was an accident. I was out for a walk and I ended up here” you explained.

“She was asking for you” Jenni says even though technically it wasn’t true. In her eyes she wanted to play matchmaker after it was made evidently clear that Alexia was hesitant to peruse things with you even though she had feelings for you.

“Is this true?” Alexia asks and you nod.

“We won, I returned, I scored, wore the armband and I didn’t have anyone is stands” you whispered so only she could hear you.

The look in your eyes changed. For the first time that night you showed your true emotions. Alexia didn’t need to hear anything else. She grabbed your hand and escorted you to the outdoor seating area. She sat down whilst your paced the patio.

“Y/N, come sit down” Alexia pats the seat next to her and you comply “Are you ok, really? What made you come here to me?”

“I’m not ok but I’m more ok than I thought I would be. It’s been quite a day, that game was —“

“Incredible. You changed the entire play” 

“It felt right. I belong on the pitch with the girls, I should never have left” You didn’t register that you felt guilty about your absence until you said the words out loud to Alexia.

“You needed to. You had to process your loss and you returned when you were ready”

Alexia was very understanding, you had to give her that. 

“That answers my first question but the second” the Catalonian didn’t want to push but there had to be a reason and until she heard the truth she was filled with worry. You had been walking the streets of Madrid, alone, at almost midnight.

“Why am I here?” You repeated it. Maybe you hoped that hearing the question again would help you figure out an answer, it did “I wanted to celebrate…….with you. I was surrounded by my team, people I consider family yet you were the one I wanted to call and tell about the game”

You dipped your head when you felt yourself getting emotional. You were suppose to be happy but with everything you were feeling you were overwhelmed. On top of what you were feeling you couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat twice as fast because Alexia was sat opposite you with her hand now resting on your thigh. 

When you looked up Alexia noticed the the tears in your eyes and was quick to wipe away one when it fell.

“I shouldn’t be feeling this way Alexia, it is wrong” you met her eye as you made your version of a confession.

“You can be happy about playing football again Y/N. Natalia would have wanted you to be”

“Don’t say her name, not now” you shook your head and Alexia’s hand fell back to its prior place on your thigh.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I can give you space if that what you need” the blonde stands, ready to leave you be but you grab her hand and pull her back down.

“I don’t want space and that is the problem. I wasn’t talking about the game Alexia. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about you” you shook your head in disbelief. You were sure that your shot of happiness died with your wife but you have developed feelings for Alexia and could no longer deny it.

“Y/N” Alexia cupped your face so that you would look at her but when you did, her hand didn’t move.

“Ale” you melted into her touch. That very touch gave you butterflies and you enjoyed the act of intimacy.

The two of you went silent but each of your thoughts were very loud. Alexia glanced at your lips, you knew what she was about to do and you didn’t stop her. Maybe you should have, maybe you should have pulled away but you didn’t. You didn’t move when her lips hovered centimetres from your own, you let her kiss you. You froze in the moment, like a deer in headlights. It was only when you closed your eyes did you realise what was happening. The kiss felt like you were cheating, it felt wrong yet felt so right.

“You shouldn’t have done that. We can’t do this. It was wrong” you pushed Alexia away and stood up hastily.

You stormed away before Alexia had the chance to speak. All eyes were on you as you walked through the sea of Spanish players. Their eyes went from you and then to Alexia who was running through, trying to catch up to you. She was hot on your heels until you turned to face her. She waited a couple of seconds before taking steps towards you.

“Stop” you say but she doesn’t “No!” you held you arm out to further imply your seriousness.

After that she can do nothing else but watch you walk away from her. Her hazel eyes stayed on you until you were out the lobby doors and onto the streets of the Spanish capital.

Alexia was frozen in place. She has ruined everything by rushing but she felt something when she touched you, she felt a spark and that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t feel the same thing she did. You told her that had feelings for her, you came all this way to see her. Those things meant something but maybe she had read it wrong, maybe it had all been in her head.

“Alexia, are you ok? You’re crying” Irene appeared in front of her. The woman in question was quick to wipe her eyes in hope that no one else would see her tears.

“I’m fine. It’s getting late, everyone should go to their rooms. We have a final to prepare for and we need to be at our best” Alexia walked away.

The two of you were very quiet in the upcoming days and were laser focused on the task at hand. Beat the opposing team and being the first even UEFA Nations League champions. Both of your team mates could tell something was wrong but they didn’t know what to do. Your team mates wasn’t aware of your late night adventures until Aitana texted Keira to ask if you were ok and told her that Alexia wasn’t after you showed up at their hotel. The English midfielder kept this to herself given that Lucy has only just got started talking to Alexia and there were a few players on the team who’s protectiveness could rival the defenders.

By the time the day of the final came around there was plenty of reason for concern but both teams knew that this is what you had been working towards. Yes, a trophy was on the line but it was the previous trophy that was the topic of conversation. 

The first time Alexia saw you was when they arrived for the pitch inspection. You were near the goal with LJ, it has become a new pre match routine for the two of you. Well you did it the game a couple of days ago and you won that so the two of you gravitated towards the goal today. 

Alexia wanted to go to you and that is what she was going to do until she felt a hand grab her wrist.

“Alexia” 

She turned to face Keira.

“Leave her be”

“I didn’t mean to upset her. We were talking about feelings and then I kissed her, I couldn’t help it. It felt right in the moment” Alexia couldn’t stop talking. It’s like was making a confession and Keira would be the one deciding whether or not it was a sin.

Meanwhile the English midfielder couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sure she had suspected something was going on between the two of you but she also had a strong sense that you wasn’t ready for anything knew. In her eyes you were still healing.

“You kissed her?” Keira whispered as not to bring attention to their conversation.

Alexia was about to explain further but Keira stopped her as she sure her other team mate coming towards them.

“Lucy is coming. I will talk to you about this later” 

It was as if Keira flipped a switch. Her look of concern was replaced with a smile and she even put on a fake laugh so Lucy wouldn’t arrive to an awkward silence. Soon enough it was a gathering of Barcelona players yet Alexia could stay focused on what her friends were saying for you were beginning to walk towards her.

In your eyes you wanted to talk to Alexia and you knew you needed to. The other night was a lot for you to process but you did owe her an explanation for leaving, that much you did know. She looked good as you watched her enter the pitch. You let your eyes linger in the most discreet way possible. 

“You and Putellas?” LJ asked you. She wasn’t aware of what happened, nor did she know you were married. In her eyes, you were hiding something and she wasn’t wrong.

“We are friends…..I think. It’s complicated” you admitted knowing that Lauren wouldn’t push you further.

“Uncomplicate it” she suggested.

“If only it was that easy. Let’s head in and get ready”

You felt the change in heartbeat again as you got closer to where Alexia was standing. Your head might have been all over the place but you heart was being very clear in what it wanted only you weren’t ready to admit it.

“Y/N” Alexia shouted to you as you walked past her.

“Hi” for whatever reason, you pulled her into a hug “Good luck today, you’re going to need it” 

You both started laughing at the quick change of energy.

“I don’t think it’s us that need luck. We beat you in the summer” Alexia was cocky but she wasn’t confident.

“You didn’t beat me though” you couldn’t help but smile at her.

Your smile was genuine and that is something Alexia took great hope in seeing. Maybe you weren’t mad at her, maybe you just needed a little space.

What you said next doubled that hope.

“Come find me after the game”

Then just as quick as the hope was there, it wasn’t.

“We need to talk”

Those 4 words struck fear in Alexia but she didn’t have the chance to say anything because you were already down the tunnel by the time she came to her senses.

Your was brought up several times in the Spanish locker room and each time all eyes fell to Alexia for she is the one that knew you most. She had learnt how you think, what plays you are going to make before you make them. In her team’s eyes she knew how to stop you. Only it wasn’t that easy. Alexia did knew how you play but that style changes when you are hungry, like you have a point to prove and this game brought both of those things.

“Stop focusing on Y/N! If you focus on how to stop her then you’ve already lost. Focus on stopping her from getting the ball” That is the last thing she said before heading out into the tunnel. 

The lionesses were waiting for her, she expected it. It was an intimidation tactic. You weren’t there and that was a surprise, she would have bet good money that you would be in the starting 11. Mary stood opposite her and smirked when she saw the look of bewilderment on the opposing players face. 

Alexia wanted to say something, she kept looking back at the team. If she was paying attention she would notice that there was only 10 players on the England side of the tunnel. With her eyes now facing forward she didn’t see you walking towards the front of the line. The sound of your cleats fell on deaf ears.

Her head shot to the side when she caught a glimpse of you standing next to her with the pendent in your hand.

“Capital Y/L/N, nice to see you back where you belong” Alexia covered her mouth, her being well aware that there were cameras on her.

You shake your head at her greeting.

“Captain Putellas. You’re going to wish I wasn’t” you had one last attempt to get in her head.

“No I won’t. Win or lose today, this is something the world, myself included, has been waiting for” 

You thought you would get a smart remark not a reply that was genuine.

“Alexia” 

“Y/N” 

Those were the last words spoken except from a good look after the coin toss.

You called a huddle before everyone got into place. This game was important, not only because of the trophy on the line but it was the lionesses chance at redemption. To prove that it was only one game.

“I want you all to do something for me. Play for right now, not for the past. You cannot change what happened in the summer, no matter how hard you try. Winning today won’t get you the star on the shirt but it can be the reset you guys have been wanting. That loss has been haunting you, I can see it by the look on your faces and I promise you here today that if you play with revenge in your hearts then you will fail. Yes, this is Spain but we are England. We don’t stay down, we get up and fight. We stand together as a team, a pride. We go out there and leave everything on the pitch” 

Each player is hooked on every word as you give Mary the signal. 

“England on three” 

You all come together one more time before getting in position.

Alexia tries to do the same by most of the team is watching you.

“She is going to make it hard” Olga tells her captain.

“She is going to make our lives hell for the next 90 minutes but that’s not to say we can’t give it back. Look at that star on your shirt, we got that by beating this team. Yes, Y/N wasn’t playing but she is one player. As good as she may be, we are better. You’ve seen what everyone is saying, they are calling our World Cup win a fluke, that we didn’t win but England lost. We may have qualified for the Olympics but our job is not done. We have a trophy to win. Vamos Espana” 

Just like England did, Spain come together before readying themselves for the game.

The game which starts in the worst possible way for the away team. It seems the your players might be a bit more nervous that they are letting on. Inside the first 15 minutes Salma gets through on goal and sends Spain up 1-0. It wasn’t ideal but it didn’t mean the game was over either. You were playing safe, as a way to get the most out of the team around you. When the first half is done with you haven’t take a single shot on goal. 

Spain entered the tunnel happy and England entered it less so.

The atmosphere was eerie in the locker room and you could see the self doubt radiating off your team mates.

Sarina takes the floor and explains all sorts of strategies but nobody is listening. They are in their own head.

“Do you mind?” You walk up to Sarina hoping to have a talk with your team. The coach happily steps aside.

“How many of you are thinking about the World Cup? Raise your hand” nobody does and you decide to call bullshit “You’re lying and I won’t have that. You are telling me none of you are out there thinking of the summer? the picture of them lifting the trophy that should have been yours?” 

One by one players begin lifting their hands.

“I can stand here and say I haven’t been good enough. I need to be better and I will be better. In 45 minutes we will be crowned champions. The question is are we going to do it in style or are we going to make it harder for ourselves? We know what we need to do and we will do it” 

You leave the locker room and go back out onto the pitch. You are the first one out there and you take a minute to look at the score board. 1-0. You hated to lose but more than that, you hated to let people down. You made the decision to come back and you didn’t do that to come second.  You returned to be a champion and to make Natalia proud, you wasn’t doing to let her down. You had spent the past couple of days trying not to think about her and maybe that was the problem. She was your greatest strength, your biggest supporter and she may be no longer with you, you may be beginning to move on but that doesn’t mean you have to forget about her. No, you need to play for her just as you always did.

The first ten minutes of the second half it was like a different team was on the pitch. England were pushing and pressing and Spain were struggling. In the 67 minute was when the game was made even once again. You and hempo were tiring out the defence and it made them vulnerable. On one counter attack they couldn’t keep up. Irene was the only player standing between you and Cata but she could see Hempo running up beside you. She found herself in a lose lose situation so she stuck with you in hopes that the pressure would work, it didn’t. You pull her in just enough to give hempo enough space. At the last minute you passed to your left and she fired the ball into the back of the net.

Game on.

Spain were beginning to tire and the one touch football that was known around the world began to work in favour of England. They were unable to play out from the back because you, Alessia, Hempo and LJ was pressing the defence. It was mind play and it was working. 

It was during a corner where things got interesting.

“Keep going!” You clapped your hands to rally the team “we are in their heads, now we end it” 

“You’re not in our heads” Alexia says as she chooses to mark you. It was a tactic they hadn’t done yet, so far Jenni had marked you.

“Just you saying that is proof that we are but feel free to prove me wrong” you had a minute to talk as the ref walk talking to Lucy and Irene.

“I will. Let’s make it interesting. You score right now and I’ll buy you a drink later”

“So that means I’ll be taking the trophy and your money? Oh you’re on” 

Alexia followed you are you walked around the box as you got into position. You would end up in one or two places; front post or in the middle. Never did she think you would make a run for the back post and swap positions will Lucy. The change caught Alexia out and when the ball hit the back of the neck she shook her head in defeat. 

She had played right into your hands. You had pulled her in with your words and left her hanging when you celebrated what would go on to be the winning goal of the game.

You had to take a moment when the game was over. Everyone was celebrating but you and Lucy made the effort to congratulate your club team mates of a game well played.

“Ay, Capi. You’re predictable you know that?” Lucy threw her arms around the Catalonian.

“Lucy!” You slapped her on the back of the head “What she meant to say is you guys played a good game and that we will see you in Paris”

“We’ll see them in Barcelona” Lucy tried to correct you.

“I mean on the pitch as opponents, idiot”  

Alexia was to focused on what the defender said first to hear the bickering that was now taking place between the two of you.

“What did she mean?” Alexia asked you.

Lucy gave you a look before leaving the two of you be.

“You once told me that in order to see yourself as the best, you had to beat the best. Tonight you wanted to beat me”

“No, I —“ 

“You did and that’s ok. I wanted to beat you too. It’s our competitive nature. That need you had allowed us a way in. I didn’t know it would come from a corner, only that in at least one part of the game you will stick to me just so you could say you got the upper hand”

“I should have dropped you off, let Irene pick you up and followed Lucy” Alexia understands the error she made.

“You should have but don’t beat yourself up about it. That wasn’t our first plan or second. Our plan was for Hempo to tire Ona out and for Lucy to get inside Olga’s head. Without those two things happening, we wouldn’t have got the corner in the way we did”

Alexia didn’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed that you read her and her team so well.

“You deserve the win today. Go celebrate with your team” 

“I will but remember you owe me a drink. I’ll text you the address of wherever we go. Invite the girls too”

Alexia watched you walk away but there was one more thing she wanted to tell you only she feared it would do more damage than good. In the end she bite the bullet and ran to you.

“Y/N” 

“Hi again” you laughed “Do you want another explanation of our strategy? We can always watch the game back when we in home in Barcelona” 

Home in Barcelona. There is something about the way you said it that made alexia feel warm and fuzzy inside.  She quickly shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and the overthinking that came with them.

“I just want to say that Natalia would have been proud of you today. Not just today but the other game too. I know it’s not my place to say that because I didn’t know her but you should know that. You—“ Alexia began rambling.

“Breathe. Thank you for saying that. I know she is looking down on me right now with a huge smile on her face and truth is if I think about her too much then I think I might cry so I don’t want to go into that right now. Thank you though” 

Alexia couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t have said that.

The ceremony went by in the blind of an eye. One minute you are waiting for Spain to collect their medals, the next you are raising the trophy with Mary. Back in the locker room you find yourself staring at the medal on your neck. Never in your professional career had one stayed on your neck for this long and never has the gold felt so heavy. It felt like it was weighing you down so you take it off and stuff it into your back. You would talk about that means with your therapist if you had one. 

Later on in the night you found yourself at the hotel bar with the rest of the team celebrating. You tried your best to be happy and part of you truly was but you life off the field was becoming more complicated and hard to ignore.

“Excuse me” you tell the group that included Leah, Georgia, Keira and Lucy. 

“Should we be concerned?” Georgia asks.

“Yes but let her have a moment. These past ten days have been a lot for her” Lucy tells her friend.

They watched as you paced back and forth on the balcony. To the English it was warm outside but there was still a chill in the air and you weren’t wearing a jacket. Keira kept looking at her watch asking herself how long is long enough before she goes out to you. 

Some of the Spanish team arrive about an hour after the lionesses. Some of them go to the bar, some go to friend but Alexia, well she only had one interest and she couldn’t it or more specifically couldn’t find you. Her eyes scanned the room one, twice and third time. She had her phone out ready to call just as she sees you. 

Leah catches her walking towards you and wants to stop her.

“What is she doing” The blonde asks defensively “Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with her”

The Arsenal player has heard about you bust up when Keira visiting England over Christmas. 

“Things are different now but I’m not sure this is the right thing to do. Alexia!” Keira shouts her club captain over.

“Hola. Congratulations again. You guys sure know how to party” she tried to be polite even though she had no interest in a conversation with anyone who wasn’t you.

“Thank you” Leah seems genuine “Were you going to see Y/N?” 

Alexia nods.

“That might not be the best idea right now. I think she needs a minute to herself. It’s been quite the day for her”

“I know. That’s why I want to talk to her” Alexia knew that you might be been struggling but to her that was all the more reason for her to talk to you.

“She won’t even wear her medal” Georgia adds earning her a shove. As far as the English players are aware, Alexia didn’t know anything.

“That isn’t surprising. Every tournament until this one she has given her medal to Natalia” Alexia says as if it is the most obvious thing but your friends didn’t put two and two together.

“Wait” Lucy says “She told you about her?” Again, Alexia nods.

“When? She hasn’t talked about her since she passed” the defender added.

“After Christmas” Alexia explains but goes no further.

“That’s why she went to you the other night but then you—“

“Keira, I won’t talk about that right now. I just want make sure she is ok and I can’t do that if I am being interrogated by you” 

With that Alexia leaves your friends speechless and makes her way towards the balcony.

As quietly as possible, Alexia slides the door open and closes it behind her. She didn’t want to startle you so she watched from a distance. Your face wasn’t puffy so you hadn’t been crying but your posture was stiff so you were stressed.

“They’ve spent the past hour burning holes in the back of my head from their staring yet you have come straight out” you turn to see Alexia resting against the door. 

“I owe you a drink and —” 

“And yet your hands are empty” you point to Alexia’s hand which as you stated aren’t holding a drink “You can come closer you know. I’m not going to blow”

“I know it’s just that—“

“The last time we were along I ran away crying” you laugh as you think back to that night. Things were going really well until they wasn’t.

“Are you going to let me finish a sentence or are you going to keep talking for me?”

You mumble an apology and signal for her to continue.

“Your friends know I know and I accidentally told keira we kissed” 

“Figures. She has been hovering” 

The two of you go quiet. It’s not awkward, it’s comfortable but even then it’s not what either of you wanted.

“You said we needed to talk” Alexia didn’t want to push things and you had told her this before the game.

“We do. What happened the other night it—“

“Shouldn’t have happened”

“Who is finishing the other’s sentences now” 

“Lo siento”

“As I was saying” you send her smirk so she knows she isn’t in trouble “The other night was very overwhelming for me, not because I didn’t like what happened but because I did. I told you that I had feelings and those feelings are for you Alexia. You make me feel things that I thought I’d never feel again. I promised my heart and love to her Alexia and to feel these things for someone else is like an act of betrayal. It feels wrong but I don’t want those feelings to stop. You kissed me and I knew it was going to happen yet I didn’t to stop it. I shouldn’t have ran away like that”

“It was a lot for you, I understand that” Alexia tried to reassure you that it was ok.

“It was but I should have stayed. You wanted to talk to me and I didn’t give you the opportunity. Just because I lost someone doesn’t mean that it’s only my feelings that matter. I’m sorry Alexia” 

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Since you said the words ‘we need to talk’ she has been trying to think of all the things you could have said, an apology was not one of them.

“Can I say what I would have that night?” Alexia asks and you nods your head whilst closing the distance between you.

“Those feelings you talked about, I feel them too. Things changed between us after you told me and I couldn’t ignore it, trust me I tried. I was also aware of your loss and that this might not be something you are ready for so I talked to my mum one night. She is the only other person I know who has experienced the same loss you have. I told her that I had fallen for you and that I wanted to act on my feelings. You know what she told me? She told me that time heals all wounds but no amount of time is the same. If I wanted to prove to you that I truly liked you then I would need to take it slow so that is what I am willing to do. If you want to pursue this then we will take it slow, as slow as you need. You said it feels like an act of betrayal and I respect that. I won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for”

Alexia reached out for you and noticed once again tears were falling down your face.

“I have made you cry again. I shouldn’t have said anything. Y/N I am so sorry”

“Alexia, these aren’t sad tears” you reach for her hand  “I can’t promise you that this will be easy. When Natalia died she took a lot of my heart with her and I don’t know how much is left but I want to share what I have left with you. Please be patient with me Alexia because I don’t know how to do this again. For most of my life it has been her and I but now I get the chance at happiness again, with you. We can take this slow?”

“We will go as slow are you want. I have nothing but time for you Y/N”

Alexia knew what to say and for the first time in a long time you found yourself leaning forward. Just as you were about to kiss her she moves and kisses your cheek.

“Slowly Y/N” Alexia winked causing you to chuckle “How about we go for dinner when we return to Barcelona?“

“I would really like that”

“Me too. Now if I remember correctly I owe you a drink” Alexia holds the door open so that you both can rejoin the party.

“That does seem to be the case. Make it a double. It’s not every day you pull one over on La Reina to score the winning goal” you shoved her playfully.

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[thebibliosphere]

Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???

Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.

Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)

And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.

Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).

Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.

(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)

I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.

But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.

I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)

I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.

I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.

[dira333]

This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader

there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.

Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu

“Where’s Kageyama?”

The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen. 

“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”

- Meanwhile -

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”

“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.

“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering. 

“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”

“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”

“Karasuno.”

“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”

“First. Your serve-”

“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”

Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little. 

“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”

“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.

To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.

“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”

“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”

He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”

“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.

“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.

“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”

“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”

Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.

“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”

“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

Karasuno wins. So do you. 

No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.

“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”

“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”

“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”

“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”

“Exactly. You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”

“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”

“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face. 

“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”

“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.

“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”

And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.

Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.

“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”

“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”

“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.

You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.

But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…

Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.

Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.

College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load. 

He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old. 

“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived. 

He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.

“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”

“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”

He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”

Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”

You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”

Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.

“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”

“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.

“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”

Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”

“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he’s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.

“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.

You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.

“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.

That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.

You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.

Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball. 

“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.

Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker. 

He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.

You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway. 

But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend. 

One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.

If only you could let yourself have this. 

But does he even think about you that way?

X

“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”

He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.

“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Even if it’s with a girl?”

Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.

“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”

Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.

He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass. 

“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”

“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”

“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”

“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”

“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”

Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”

“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”

“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”

Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.

“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”

“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.

His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.

Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.

Yours is different altogether.

The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.

Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.

Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.

You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.

Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.

When he has to leave you hug him goodbye. 

For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.

For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.

But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.

“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question. 

Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend. 

He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.

He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats. 

You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because. 

Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.

“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.

But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it? 

After all, he’s so much younger than you. 

Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?

Your hand fits perfectly in his.

Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.

You’re real and you like him, still.

“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.

“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat. 

Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.

But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.

He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.

X

“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”

“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.

“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”

You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”

“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in. 

“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.

“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”

“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.

Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.

You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.

From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late. 

Tobio has already turned away.

He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.

It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.

Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.

But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.

“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”

Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.

If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.

“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.

“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.

“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”

“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”

You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.

“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”

His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.

You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them. 

And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.

“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”

“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”

“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.

You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.

“Are you jealous, Tobio?”

“Should I be?”

You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?

He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”

Your mouth turns dry.

“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”

“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.

“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”

“Can’t we talk now?”

And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.

There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.

As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.

“Where’s Kageyama?”

You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”

“Good and good. Our last match-”

“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”

“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”

Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”

“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”

Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.

“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”

“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”

“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”

Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”

“I do. They are adorable.”

Tip me?

[mountttmase]

What I Need

Note - the longest fic I’ve ever written 😭 I’ve added a little ‘break’ halfway through so if you did want to stop and come back to read the rest later it’s easier to see where you’ve left off but if you want to read it all in one go feel free 🩷 thank you @carlottawllms for the initial request and I’m sorry it took so long to get to 😭 and thank you to all my besties for your help with this, I couldn’t do it without you 🩷 I know it’s long but feedback would be appreciated immensely and I promise to never write a fic this long again 😌

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 20.5k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Just once you thought you might be treated to a well deserved lie in this Saturday but unfortunately the universe had other plans for you, just like always.

Your phone had been vibrating for a few minutes on the nightstand and you knew it was someone trying to call you before a barrage of texts were sent your way. Letting them fly in before you picked your phone up to see who it was and what they wanted even though you knew exactly who it was and why they were pestering you at this ungodly hour.

You already make it feel like it’s not worth living you thought, but before you could think about anything else his photo flashed up on your screen as he tried to call you again and you begrudgingly hit accept before you were permanently etched into his bad books.

‘Hello?’

‘About bloody time y/n, what the hell have you been doing?’ He scolded you. His voice hushed but you could tell he wanted to shout at you for not picking up and you rolled your eyes at his stupid attitude that you didn’t need this time of the morning.

‘Sleeping, Mason. You know what probably most of the uk population is doing right now since it’s stupid o’clock on a bloody Saturday’

‘Well I don’t give a shit, I need you. How fast do you think you can get here?’

‘I don’t know, Mase-‘ you started, not ready to leave the comfort of your bed just yet but he was cutting you off as soon as he realised what you were about to say.

‘No, y/n don’t do this. Did you not see my message? Code red yeah, that means I need you here now’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad, you big girls blouse’

‘She’s offering to make me breakfast. Pancakes if you please’ he told you, his voice an octave higher as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying to you and you had to hold in a giggle at how ridiculous he sounded.

‘You love pancakes’

‘No I love your pancakes, there's a difference. I don’t know what she puts in hers she could drug me for all I know. Or make the whole wheat ones like a maniac’

‘I mean it’s hard to fuck up pancakes im sure they’re-‘

‘Can we forget about the bloody pancakes, how long till you’re here?’ He demanded, but you were already up and pulling a hoodie on before stuffing yourself into your shoes.

‘I’ll be five minutes’ you sighed, grabbing your keys and walking out the door as Mason repeatedly told you to hurry up until you had to hang up as you began to drive.

How it became the routine of you bailing him out of these situations was a long story.

Mason had been your best friend since you were little. Your dad being one of his first football coaches and even though you went to separate primary schools you still saw him most weekends when you helped out and sometimes joined in with the games. Mason teaching you how to kick the ball properly and you knew when you scored your first goal he let you win.

You eventually stopped going to practice, not seeing Mason at all for a year or so until you both wound up going to the same secondary school and it’s like you picked up where you left off.

You watched each other grow from awkward little teenagers to full grown adults and as much as you tried to keep your friendship the same you knew it would never be normal.

You went the usual route; college, uni, big office job in a fancy company while Mason lived his dreams and changed right before your eyes. Subtle changes that came over time meaning you never really caught onto them but the shy polite boy you once knew was gone.

He was cocky and sure of himself. Cheeky in a way that all the girls loved and he used it to his advantage to get exactly what he wanted. You weren’t blind, you know he was handsome but the way he threw his money and looks about just to get into some poor girls knickers made you sick sometimes but you stuck by him through it all. Feeling like you were the only person who had his best interest at heart most of the time.

Mason didn’t have friends, he had yes men. People to tell him he looked good and that it didn’t matter what he did or what he said to people because they’d clear it up for him afterwards. Leaving his picture perfect image intact so the world still thought he was a good boy even though he was anything but.

You didn’t know when, but you too had fallen into that category. Running around after him like he was a toddler that had just learned to walk, trying to protect him from crashing into things he shouldn’t be and picking up all of his mess after him for little to no thanks. You didn’t even know why you did it at this point. A sense of loyalty maybe? Or wanting to keep him away from certain people that you knew only used him. You knew he was a grown man at the end of the day and he was old enough to look after himself but still you carried on.

Even the routine of helping him kick girls out of his house was a mystery to you. The first time was a mistake when you’d turned up heartbroken on his doorstep after a failed exam and the girl he’d managed to score that night made a swift exit much to his satisfaction. Telling you he’d been trying to get rid of her for an hour but she wouldn’t budge and you were the perfect solution.

When he called you up and asked if you could do something similar for him the next week you refused at first. Thinking it was weird and you were worried about the girls feelings but he wore you down like he always did until the next thing you knew you were fake crying on his door mat as he ushered a pretty blonde girl out the door with the fake promise of calling her back later that day.

You must have helped him throw at least 30 girls out now. A catalogue of excuses at your disposal and even though you knew it was weird, it had merged itself in as just another part of your friendship and soon enough you were pulling onto his drive and housing yourself out of your car.

You rang the doorbell to make it look more realistic, the door opening a few moments later to Mason who looked more than relieved to see you and you quickly made your way inside to start the act.

‘What do you want? Dead relative, dog or something worse?’ You asked him, pinching your cheeks so they looked pinker before squirming yourself in the eyes with your water bottle. You’d tried and tested the lot but the sports cap you found was the best at making it look like actual tears.

‘Dogs fine, she’s been yapping on about hers all morning and showing me pictures so-‘

‘You’re so cruel, Mason’ you remarked, hoping to make him feel a little bit bad about what he was doing but you knew it was all in vain. He never did.

‘Just start crying before I make you, yeah?’ He laughed so you took the opportunity to get him back and wailed out the loudest fake cry you could muster right in his ear. The sound making him jump before he bounded you into his arms so you could cry into his neck and before you knew it, the sound of a very concerned but sweet sounding woman could be heard in the hallway.

‘Mason? Is everything okay?’

‘No really no’ he told her, the fake worry in his voice making you roll your eyes but you carried on sniffling to help him out. ‘This is my best friend and she’s had some awful news this morning’ he told her, walking you towards the living room so he could sit you on the sofa. ‘I’m really sorry to do this, her dogs just died and she needs me’

‘Oh my god’

‘Yeah she’s really not in a good way’ he confirmed, pulling you in closer and your cries went up in volume and you felt him pinch your side gently as if to tell you to tone it down.

‘Well can I help at all?’ She offered and you actually felt a little sorry for her. She seemed too sweet and you wondered how Mason had got his grubby little claws into her but you’d seen him on nights out and knew how he trapped women under his spell. You were just thankful that you were immune to his powers as if someone treated you like this you’d swing for them.

‘I think it’s best I just stay with her for now, but I’ll text you yeah? I’ve got your number saved?’

‘Oh, yeah okay then’ she uttered before the pair of them fled upstairs to get her things and within a few minutes he was with her at the door. Hearing the talk in hushed tones before he shut the door behind her but you let your cries continue.

‘Alright you can stop that now, sound makes my brain ache’ he groaned as she flopped down onto the sofa next to you and you laughed as you unhid your face from the cushion.

‘You’re welcome, by the way’ you told him. Bumping your shoulder into his as you sat up but he just rolled his eyes. You knew he was thankful even if he didn’t say it exactly but it would be nice to hear it sometime.

‘You fancy some breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes’ he winked but you just rolled your eyes at him. Pancakes sounded good to you too but you knew you’d be stuck making them.

‘Where’s Ace? He’s the only reason I’m here’ you asked, deflecting his question as you knew what he was asking and by the look he was giving you he wasn’t too happy about it.

‘Charming’ he scoffed before whistling and the sound of bounding paws made you smile until Ace was running in and jumping into your lap.

‘Hi baby’ you cooed, scratching over his head and trying to avoid the face licks he was sending your way but Mason was just looking at you like he was waiting for something.

‘So… what’s happening with the pancakes?’

‘Ace, your daddy is a very silly man, did you know that?’ You babbled but you could tell Mason was offended with what you’d said.

‘Don’t turn my son against me’

‘Do you want some pancakes, acey? Mumma will make you some’ you babbled too him, knowing there was no way for him to answer but from the look on his face you could that’s what he wanted.

‘Since when are you his mum’ Mason commented, trying to reach over to pet him but you wouldn’t let him. Jumping up so Ace could follow you and he just sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘Since I’m one of the only stable females in his life, okay? Don’t confuse him now’

You left Mason in the living room so you could make some pancakes. Your own belly rubbing as you hadn’t had a chance to think about breakfast this morning but thankfully he had everything in and as soon as he smelt them you heard him walking in to grab some.

‘Why are you making little ones?’ He questioned, grabbing some juice from the fridge and a couple of glasses.

‘They’re for ace’ you shrugged. Plating them up in his little doggy bowl and letting him tuck in before sorting yours and Masons out.

‘So he gets preferential treatment’

‘Do you ever have a day off?’ You muttered, wanting him to just give things a rest for five minutes but you could tell by his laugh he wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon.

‘Shut up, you love me’ he teased, poking you in the sides as he grabbed his plate and the feel of it angered you. He knew you hated being poked and prodded but he just carried on as he loved getting under your skin.

‘Not when you’re like this I don’t’ you sighed and even though you were half joking you had realised over the last few times you’d hung out that being around him was a chore sometimes. His usual playful comments had more venum behind them and now you couldn’t actually work out if he still liked you or not. Being around him never felt as good as it used to but whenever you got upset about it he’d tell you he was playing so you tried to think nothing more of it. Wondering if you were just hormonal or had forgotten how to take a joke.

Halfway through breakfast your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. His eyes looking at you pleadingly as if he wanted you to go and get it but you remained firm and stared back at him.

‘Please, y/n. If it’s her she’ll have me talking for another half an hour. Just make her go away please’

‘Fine’ you huffed, getting up and storming to the door and you knew he was smiling from where he sat behind you. ‘I’m not doing the washing up though’

‘Hey, you make the mess you tidy it away’

‘Oh get lost’ you muttered under your breath, opening the door to what you expected to me the girl from earlier but thankfully it was just an Amazon delivery guy and you took the parcel with a smile before bidding him goodbye. ‘Mase? Its just an Amazon parcel you’re safe’

‘Ah amazing, can you open it for me? Should be just a charging cable’ he nodded as he stacked your plates and took them to the dishwasher, leaving you on your own to tear the box open but once you were in you wanted to vanish into thin air.

What you weren’t expecting was the red box that was sitting under the packing paper. The words thin feel jumping out at you first and you groaned loudly as he walked back over to you with a confused expression.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You’re gross, I swear to god. Why did you make me open this?’ You huffed as you threw the box of condoms his way and he caught it with one hand before looking down with a smile.

‘Ah i forgot about these, got the ribbed ones this time to see if they make a difference’ he winked but you just made fake gagging noises as you walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room where he followed you in shortly after. Thankfully hiding the box out of sight from you.

‘What you doing next Friday? It’s Woody’s birthday so we’re going out and he asked me to ask if you wanna come’ he suddenly piped up with as you turned the tv on and the question took you by surprise.

‘Why didn’t he ask me himself?’

‘Cause he thinks you’re scary’ he winked ‘I’m kidding, he was pretty out of it last night when we made plans and he knew I’d probably see this morning’

‘So now it’s just standard that I kick the girls out your house for you? And all your friends know about it’

‘Pretty much. I’ve given you excellent reviews so if you get calls for similar from the others you can thank me later’ he teased but you weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore. Huffing as you relaxed back into the sofa but he was soon poking your leg with his finger. ‘You coming next week or what? We’ve got a section booked so there won’t hundreds of people and you don’t know I’ll pay for you’

‘I’m not worried about paying, Mase’ you told him even though in the back of your mind you were a little bit. Mason like to go to the most expensive places and drink the most expensive things and you couldnt keep up with him half the time so the offer of him playing always settled your nerves when it was nights out like this. ‘Can I bring Olivia?’

‘Who’s Olivia?’

‘That new girl from work I was telling you about the other day? The one that’s just moved here and doesn't know anyone’ you told him before realising he probably hadn’t been listening the whole time you were talking about her before.

‘Is she hot?’

‘Mason-‘

‘Im kidding, I’m kidding, You can bring the pope for all I care’ he shrugged but you knew even if you asked him not to go near her he still would.

‘Mason I'm serious, I don’t want you anywhere near her okay? you’ll make things awkward at work and she wouldn’t touch you with with a barge pole anyway’

‘Wow y/n, I’m bruised’ he told you, hand on his heart to make it look like he was hurt but you could tell from the tone of his voice he didn’t care.

‘She’s got something going on with someone at work and if you ruin it I’ll kill you’ you threatened but he just held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Who else is gonna be there?’

‘Oh the usual’ he told you. Reeling off some names you knew plus a few guys you don’t know and you knew what that meant. Mason wanted to try and set you up with someone he knew and even though you appreciate the sentiment you couldn’t think of anything worse.

At this point you thought he just felt sorry for you and was trying his hardest to find you anyone. You’d never had a boyfriend, never been in a real relationship or even been on that many dates. Any you did happen to go on always ended in the same way with that same awful message. I see you more as a friend than a girlfriend but I’d love to stay in touch and you didn’t know what was wrong with you. Even though Mason sometimes tried to help, you didn’t want to attract boys like him and his friends so any new boy he was suggesting you almost always never gave a proper chance.

‘I was thinking maybe I could put some feelers out? You know put a good word in with a few of the lads and see if any are interested-‘

‘I’d rather eat my own eyeballs than date one of your friends’ you told him, looking up to his horrified face and just like usual you kept poking the bear. ‘I only hang out with you cause you’re practically my brother, but the ones that choose to be your friends? I have serious questions for them’

‘And yet here you are, spending your morning with me. The main culprit’

‘Not for much longer, I’m meeting the guys at level up for lunch’ you smiled and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at you.

‘So you used me for my flour and eggs, that’s what I’m getting from this’

‘I wouldn’t even be here if you could just keep it in your pants for five seconds’ you reminded him, giving Ace a quick scratch between the ears before you stood up so you could get going but Mason being Mason had to get a few more digs in.

‘Oh whatever you big dork. Go play with your silly little puzzles then while I fend for myself’

Level Up was a gaming cafe in town and you met up with some friends from uni once a month to catch up and play some games but you mostly went there for the puzzles. There was something you loved about starting with a big pile of nothing and ending with something beautiful. It calmed you but almost made your brain feel alive at the same time so it was worth the teasing from Mason's end even if he did think it made you really uncool.

‘Whatever, Mase’ you mumbled, gathering your stuff up and making your way to the door before he could say anything else to upset you but you already felt like he’d ruined your day.

You managed to forget about him by the time you’d made it to Level Up. Catching up with your friends from uni, forgetting all that had happened that morning and getting lost in what you loved before making your way back home in the early afternoon. Feeling a lot better about yourself than you had that morning.

Your week at work flew by and soon enough it was Friday and you were at your flat with Olivia getting ready for your night out. Thankfully she’s said yes to coming and it had given you something to bond over that week. She too had moved to Manchester from down south after uni and was finding the transition a bit strange so you’d taken her under your wing in hopes you could make some more friends around here besides Mason. As much as you loved him you couldn’t stand to be around him for long periods of time anymore and wanted someone else to hang out with who didn’t make you feel so awful about yourself.

Once the pair of you were ready you set out for a cocktail bar first. Getting a few fancy pre drinks in whilst you chatted over some office gossip and just as you were leaving you posted a few stories to instagram. Seeing straight away that Mason had viewed them and almost as if by magic he was calling you.

‘Is that really what you’re wearing?’ He asked, the question making your heart drop as you looked down at your out outfit. Admittedly it was your usual but you wanted to be a bit comfortable and it was an outfit you’d always felt good in. His comments deflating you immediately and you felt like turning around and going home.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ You asked in a small voice. Wrapping your jacket around you a little bit further and Olivia looked at you with curious eyes but you just gave her a reassuring smile and carried on listening to Mason.

‘I mean it’s fine but like… well that’s it. It’s fine’ he admitted causing you to gulp back the frog in your throat so you didn’t burst into tears. ‘Look I’m trying my hardest here to help you get some but you need to start showing a bit of skin. Like if I’m interested in a girl I wanna see a bit more yeah? You need to advertise what you’ve got on offer or you’ll never get any business.’

‘I’m not looking for business and I certainly don’t want to look like someone you’re interested in’ you hit back, trying to make him hurt a little bit but you knew it was useless. Your comments were like water off a ducks back to him. ‘When I find the right guy he’ll love how I dress’

‘I’m a guy, y/n. We’re all the same’

‘Yeah well I’ve just about had enough of you tonight. I think I’d rather join a nunnery at this point’ you huffed, feeling Olivia tug on your arm as you made it to the door of the club. ‘Were just outside I’ll see you in a sec’

‘Your names on the door, they should just let you through’ he confirmed and once you’d said goodbye you were let in by the doorman who led you over to your section. meeting Mason's eyes almost immediately but his were soon on Olivia and you knew it was about to be a long night. ‘You gonna introduce me then?’

‘Hi to you too’ you quipped, watching him roll his eyes as he pulled you into his side for a quick hug but it was over before you knew it as his eyes settled on Olivia’s legs. ‘Mason this is Olivia, Olivia this is Mason’

‘Hi Olivia, y/n’s told me a lot about you’ he smiled and you knew that smile anywhere. He was about to flirt his little bum off even after you’d told him not too. ‘It's nice to finally meet you’

‘You too, thanks for letting me come’ she smiled sweetly, trying to be polite but you’d already warned her about Mason and his antics and you were hoping she could see right through him.

‘Oh you’re invited anytime’ he winked. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Oh um… yeah sure, y/n-‘

‘’It’s alright I know her order off by heart’ he winked before nodding her over to the bar where she followed him after giving you a quick wave.

You took this time to go and say happy birthday to Woody, one of Mason's friends you actually liked as he’d been around almost as long as you had but just like you had fallen into the trap of letting him get away with things he probably shouldn’t.

‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, noticing your disgruntled expression fairly quickly but you just sighed before rubbing your head.

‘I explicitly told Mason not to flirt with her but he’s all over her, I can't stand that boy sometimes’ you huffed, motioning over to where he was standing with Olivia. His hand on her back and his eyes on her chest and you heard Woody sigh next to you.

‘You know what he’s like, sees a pair of boobs and forgets all logic’ he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood.

You could see Olivia looking for you, your eyes meeting after a few seconds where she gave you the ‘help me’ look and you made your way straight over to get her. Gripping Mason's shoulder as you popped yourself in between them and even though you weren’t looking at him you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

‘Thanks for the drink Mase, we’re gonna go have a dance’ you interrupted, not missing the way he rolled his eyes at you as he tried to speak again but you’d already pulled Olivia away and onto the dance floor where you were both giggling as you got lost in the crowd.

‘Corr he’s a right flirt, you weren’t joking we’re you’

‘Honestly he should come with a warning label’ you groaned. ‘I’m really sorry, I did tell him to keep it in his pants’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s quite flattering’ she giggled before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. ‘Let’s just keep it between us, by the looks of things he’s already moved on’ she told you and once you looked around you could see him chatting up some other girl and you decided to leave him to it. Rolling your eyes before you and Olivia got lost in the crowd and danced your little socks off.

When Olivia needed the loo, you let her know you’d go and get the pair of you some more drinks and once at the bar you were ambushed by the man you’d been trying to avoid for the last hour.

‘Thanks for that earlier, you jumped in at the wrong time just as usual’ Mason exclaimed but you just turned to smile at him sweetly and the action caught him off guard.

‘No thank you, for completely ignoring me when I asked you not to flirt with her as she’s seeing someone and I didn’t want to make things awkward at work’ you reminded him but you noticed how he shut his eyes before looking back at you with a smirk and you knew he was about to get nasty.

‘So let me get this straight, Olivia’s been working with you for what, three weeks?’ He commented and his comment surprised you as you didn’t think he’d been listening to you that well whenever you spoke about her but clearly he had.

‘Just about, yeah’

‘And she’s already seeing someone?’

‘I mean it’s not official but-‘

‘So she can find someone… but you’ve been there years and-‘

‘Oh get fucked Mase’ you spat, your blood boiling at what he was trying to say and you had to restrain yourself from throwing the drinks that had just been placed infront of you in his face. Mason had just put them on his tab though and you didn’t want to have to pay for your own so you just balled your fists up and tried to let it wash over you. ‘Are you getting a kick out of being an arsehole to me tonight or something?’

‘I’m just pointing out-‘

‘Well don’t, keep your big nose out of my business’ you told him, cutting him off mid sentence but you knew your comments hadn’t hurt him. Nothing ever did.

‘Low blow, y/n. Low blow. You’re lucky I’m not self conscious about it as I know it comes in handy’ he teased. Licking his lips to insinuate something sexual and you felt the disgust roll through you. ‘Come on, let’s go sit. We’ve barely spoken all night’

‘No, I don’t want to’

‘Hey, don’t be like that’ he frowned, but you were done talking to him tonight and you’d have been quite happy to have a few days' break from him after tonight’s interactions.

‘I’m not being like anything’ you huffed, seeing Olivia coming back out from the loo and you used this as your opportunity to get away from him. ‘Olivia’s back, I need to go’ you told him but you didn’t wait for a reaction. Picking up your drinks and making your way over to her but you weren’t in the mood to be happy anymore.

You found a quiet corner with Olivia so you could sit and bitch for a bit, mostly about Mason but you moved onto the topic of people you didn’t like at work until she opened up about Joe from the IT department who she’d got the eyes for. Apparently they’d hit it off from the first day when he handed her her laptop and she’d been falling for him ever since. Sometimes making up issues and submitting tickets for non-existent problems so they could talk and even though you thought it was cute and you were happy for her, Mason's words from before were playing in your mind.

Why did things like this never happen to you? Why could everyone else find someone but you were forever stuck on the sidelines waiting to be picked. You were used to it now and you told yourself you were over it but there were moments like now when it stung and you didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

If truth be told you didn’t want to even be in this club anymore and when Olivia had to make a call you used the time to your advantage to try and find Mason to let him know you were going. Not that it would have made much difference to him as you’d barely spoken all night but when you made your way back to your section you knew something was off.

‘What’s everyone laughing at?’ You asked as you approached Woody and a few of the other boys. Woody's appearing awkward but you could see all the other boys were loving whatever was happening. ‘Where’s Mason?’

‘Trust me, you don’t wanna know’ one of the guys laughed but you were just confused as to what was happening.

‘What?’ You asked, turning towards Woody in hopes he’d give you a bit more of an answer but you could tell he didn’t want to. An embarrassed and guilty look on his face as you raised your brows at him until he eventually spoke.

‘He’s um, he’s in the loo’ Woody gulped but you didn’t understand what the issue was.

‘Okay?’

‘He’s not alone in there’ he whispered and the realisation hit you like a truck.

‘You’re joking? Please tell me you’re joking’ you whispered back, eyes flying around the room to see if anyone else had caught on but thankfully it was just his little gaggle of yes men that were in on it.

‘Well he didn’t exactly hide it’ Woody told you but before you could say anything else there was movement from the corner of your eye and you could see he was emerging from the disabled loo with a stupid smirk on his face and you felt sick to your stomach.

The boys were laughing louder immediately but all you felt was embarrassment. Embarrassed that he was your friend and he thought this was okay, embarrassed for whatever poor girl he’d taken in there and embarrassed that clearly everyone knew what was going on and he was just fine with it.

You watched him talk to security before coming back over to your section. The boys slapping his back before he tried to wrap an arm around your shoulder but you just shrugged him off as soon as he touched you. Not even bothering to look up at his disgruntled face as your eyes were trained on the where he’d just come from and before long the girl emerged.

You watched her walk over to the man Mason had just spoken to, Mason clearly telling her he’d put her name in the list for your section but you doubt he even knew her name in the first place and you felt awful as she looked around for Mason to let her in. You were on the edge of marching over there yourself and telling them to let her through but you didn’t want to cause more of a scene so you just turned to Mason who was looking at you with an amused grin.

‘Seriously, Mason? I know you clearly don’t give a shit but that’s such an awful thing to do’

‘Oh stop getting your knickers in a twist, it’s not like I fucked her’ he told you matter of factly an you gasped at the way he’d just spoken to you.

‘What?’

‘I mean I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say she took very good care of me’

‘Oh fuck off, I don’t wanna know that’ you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to block him out but he kept laughing at you like he found the whole thing hilarious.

‘Oh y/n don’t be such a grump’ he laughed. ‘Maybe you should think about getting yourself a bit, hopefully they might be able to pull that stick out your arse’

Mason words cut you deep, and you knew he’d only said it as he was playing on your biggest insecurity but that made it worse somehow. You’d opened up to Mason a few times about how unlucky in love you felt you were, how you never seemed to grab anyone’s attention. You knew he tried to help on nights out sometimes but nothing ever worked and you weren’t as on board with one night stands as Mason so clearly was. You were the definition of a wallflower and as much as you knew you had a lot of love to give the right person you grew more worried day by day that it would never be a reality for you.

You knew your face had dropped, Mason’s too once he’d realised what he’d said and that he’d taken it too far but you refused to show how upset you were, not just by what he’d said but everything that had happened tonight.

‘You’re a right dick sometimes’ you told him quietly, picking your bag up and storming out. You could hear the faint sound of him scoffing behind you but you didn’t have the energy to turn around and berate him anymore. Your eyes already stinging and the sadness rippled over you but you held it together so you could get out the door and sort yourself an Uber out.

You wondered if he might have followed you outside to come and apologise right away but you knew that would never happen. As long as Mason was happy in Mason land he didn’t care what he did or said to anyone else and even though you thought you might have been the exception, that clearly wasn’t the case anymore.

‘Y/n? What are you doing out here?’ You heard, Turing to see Olivia walking over to you with a concerned expression but you just blinked the tears away and gave her a half hearted smile.

‘Just getting some air’ you smiled. ‘Listen, I’m so sorry about tonight. I didn’t realise he was gonna be such an arse’ you apologised but you could see from her face it was all fine and she didn't care.

‘It’s not your fault, yeah? You’re not responsible for him’ she told you and you felt lighter at her words until she gave you a look you couldn't quite place. ‘But please don’t hate me, I’ve just been on the phone to Joe and he’s invited me over. You don’t mind if I go, do you?’ She asked and even though it stung slightly you couldn't blame her. Not when you were on your way home too now.

‘Of course not, don't be silly’ you reassured her, thinking that might be the end of it but the sympathetic smile she gave you made you feel worse somehow.

‘Are you going back in?’

‘I think I might just head home, I’ve had enough of him tonight’ you joked but she knew she could tell there was an air of truth behind it.

‘Don’t let him ruin your night, why don’t you come with me?’ She offered but you just looked back at her in confusion.

‘What? To hang out with you and Joe? I don’t think he’ll be too happy with that’

‘Oh no he’s at a party at his friends house not too far from here, there’s a load of people there and a few from work so you’ll know a load of them’ she explained and the idea of it being more than just the two of them sweetened the deal a bit.

‘I don’t know’

‘Pleeeeeeease. Don’t let that horrible boy upset you, plus I’m not done hanging out with you yet. Mason aside I’ve had fun tonight’ she pouted and you felt your resolve slipping. ‘Come on, I’ll pay for the Uber and everything’

‘Okay fine’ you laughed. Jumping into the car with her when it turned up and you were only ten minutes into being there once you realised what a good choice you’d made. You never hung out with your colleagues outside of work but you had a lot of fun and even made some new friends. The whole experience teaching you that there was more to life than Mason and you made a promise to yourself to take a step back from him for your own sake.

You made it home at around 3am in a taxi with a friend of Joes who’d promised to get you home safely. You’d been talking for most of the night and it was a complete 180 from being with Mason. He made you feel important and heard and when he kissed you cheek at your front door you felt your knees wobble. You blamed it on the drink and being so touch starved but once your were inside you realised how much of a good time you’d had without Mason once more.

The constant fear of what he was going to say or do next, the need to clean up his mess that inevitably always came and the growing embarrassment that came from being around him was getting you down. All you could think about was a break from him and If truth be told you needed a break from everything at this point so made a mental note to book some time off of work for a little break now the weather was getting nicer to go and see your auntie in Spain as a little something to look forward too.

You’d seen Mason had text you a few hours ago. Wondering where you’d gone and to text him back but you left it. Not wanting to talk to him right now so you got undressed and got into bed so you could wait for the inevitable hangover in the morning.

It was 8am when you woke up and knew your phone was going off every few minutes but you ignored it, not in the mood for whoever it was and when you hadn’t received a text for a while you had a quick Look I see they were all from Mason.

You didn’t believe his empty threats, ignoring everything he’d written and rolling over onto your other side so you could get back to sleep and thankfully it came easily as you were still so exhausted. He could work things out for himself for one morning surely?

You were expecting your head to be pounding when you next woke up, but you’d never felt it like this before. Never heard it in your ears so intensely or heard your name being called over and over until you realised it wasn’t what you thought and when you recognised Mason's voice you groaned into your pillow.

‘Y/n! Are you in there?’ You heard him call. Hoping you could just ignore him and he’d go away but Mason being Mason didn’t let up. ‘Right I’ve not heard or seen you since last night, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing so I’m calling the police’

‘Oh fuck off’ you huffed, storming out of bed in just your underwear and a tiny T-shirt so you could tell him off, watching Masons head snap up when you opened the door and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed all over you.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ You spat, pulling him inside and slamming the door shut before turning to face him with a furious glare. He was looking straight back at you the same way though and you’d never seen him so mad in all the years you’d known him.

‘Are you kidding me? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you ignoring me?’

‘Are you being serious right now?

‘Completely. And can you go and get dressed you freaking me out’ he remarked but you just placed your hands on your hips and made him look at you.

‘No I can’t’ you told him and you knew he wasn't comfortable with you standing there in next to nothing so you used it to your advantage. ‘You were awful to me last night Mason, I mean you’ve not been nice for a while but last night tipped me over the edge’

‘What did I do?’

‘What didn’t you do!’ You exploded, seeing him visibly jump as he wasn’t expecting it but you just kept going, releasing all the pent up aggression and anger he’d made you feel lately and you could feel the tears stinging behind your eyes. ���You’re so rude about me, about the way I dress and just how I am. I told you specifically not to go near Olivia and you did. Not to mention that poor girl you used in the toilet, I take it she wasn’t the same girl you took home last?’

‘Well no but-‘

‘I just, I don’t like what you’re turning into and I’m not gonna sit by and watch it happen anymore so if you still want me around you need to fix up and fix up fast’

‘You can’t tell me what to do’ he scoffed, the playfulness he usually spoke at you with now completely vanished and you had a feeling deep in your tummy that this wasn’t going to end well yet you carried on.

‘Well if you carry on like this then I’m out Mason. I don’t wanna surround myself with you and the people you hang out with anymore’

‘Oh you thought… oh that’s hilarious’ he laughed, clutching his tummy like you’d just told him the funniest joke in the world. ‘You actually think I care if you don't wanna talk to me anymore? That I’d care if I upset you? You really think telling me that is gonna make me change? Get real y/n, we’re not 13 anymore’

‘What?’ you breathed, his words feeling like a punch in the gut as he stared down at you and as much as you were trying to be the bigger person in this and make him see how awful he was being, you felt awfully small.

‘Well let’s face it, it’s not like we’re even from the same universe at this point and everything I do you take the wrong way’ he told you and you could feel yourself shrinking as he turned the tables. Bracing yourself to feel his full wrath as you knew he didn’t like being told off ‘You’re so uptight, y/n and is it any wonder why?’

‘You don’t have to get so personal all the time’

‘But you’re allowed to? You’re allowed to have a go at me cause I fuck around a bit and actually enjoy my life rather than play kids games and and make out I’m holier than thou? Just cause no one’s ever found you attractive doesn’t mean anyone else isn’t allowed any fun’

You never thought he could be this mean. His words from last night paled into comparison from what he was saying now and you unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself as he tore you to shreds.

‘You know I tried to be a good friend, I tried my hardest to find you someone but you throw it back in my face everytime. Not that I think it would have mattered anyway cause they all tell me you’re too stuck up for your own good. No ones ever gonna want you y/n, cause you make it fucking impossible’

‘I've never been good enough for you have I?’ You whispered, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as a single tear rolled down your cheek, but his face remained hard as you tried to let him know how you felt no matter how heartbroken you were. ‘You know I always thought it was a bit of fun and teasing, you calling me a nerd or whatever but actually don’t like me, do you? But I’m good enough when you need me, I’m good enough to come over and kick out whatever girl you need kicking out. Good enough to cook for you and get you everything you need’ ’

‘Oh fuck off, y/n’ he spat, looking away from you and trying to make his way to the door. ‘You think I need you that much? Have a laugh, I only kept you around cause you came in handy sometimes’ he laughed, trying his hardest to hurt you and even though it was working you could see in his eyes he didn’t mean it. ‘People leave me all the time, why should I give a shit if you do too?’

‘Mase-‘

‘Nah it’s fine, I’ll go. Sorry for giving a shit about you, I know not to do that again. Don’t worry I won’t be back’

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was being defensive because you were upset with him and he wanted to make you feel bad too. You knew he could be mean but never like this and when he slammed your door in your face you stood there for a few moments just taking it all in. Replaying all the awful things he’d said to you before walking like a zombie back to bed and hiding under the covers so you could let a few tears out but not many came. Too in shock at hurt about what he’d said to form any real emotions but as the days went on you felt worse and worse about yourself.

Three weeks went by and you didn’t hear a peep from him. Wondering if maybe you should message him first but after a day you realised he was the one that messed up and you didn’t want to be running after him. He’d completely disappeared from online and you’d even had a cheeky look on some of his update accounts to see if he’d been spotted anywhere but it was just the usual training pictures and nothing more.

It was difficult, getting angrier as the days went by before sadness took its place. He was your best friend and had been for years but you hated everything he’d become and you weren't about to push your boundaries to accommodate him anymore. Not after all the awful things he’d said to you either that wouldn’t stop plaguing your mind.

You’d never felt as ugly as you did right now. His words had hit home as it was things you’d always thought about yourself but to hear them actually vocalised from the person who you thought you meant a lot to stung in a way nothing else ever had. Realising maybe you would be on your own for a long time as there clearly was something wrong with you and as the days passed the harder you cried.

Cried for the friendship you once had, cried for the words he’d spat in your face and cried for how awful you felt about yourself and how lonely you were night after night as you rarely spoke to anyone in fear of your emotions taking over now.

You tried to let it go, carrying on as normal but you could tell Olivia knew something was up. Letting you know she was there for you when you needed but for now you just wanted to wallow a little.

You were sat at home getting lost in a new true crime documentary when you felt your phone ring. Glancing down to see Mason's picture filling up your screen and you instantly froze. Too panicked to answer as you didn’t know what you’d say to him right now so you just stared down at the screen until the call ended. Anxious to see if he would call you back at all but he didn’t and you presumed it was a mistake until the next day when a text came through from him on your lunch break.

What did he want?

You presumed it was to apologise but at this point you didn’t want to hear it. He’d done and said enough and you were still getting over most of it so to have him back in your life seemed counter intuitive.

So you left him on read and forgot about him. Spending your lunch break with Olivia and Joe but by the time you were back at your desk he was all you could think about. His text had left a weird feeling in your tummy and you felt a little bad about knowing he wanted to presumably apologise but you wouldn't let him but what you’d said was true. You really weren’t ready just yet.

Sandra was a person you considered your work mum. A slightly older woman who worked on reception and was the smiling face that always greeted you every morning but she was also the woman you went to for advice and to have a moan to. She’s never judged you or told you what to do but it was nice getting an opinion from someone so wise so knowing you were going to see her filled you with a calmness you hadn’t felt in a while.

‘They’ve not got your favourite left, but I got you a kitkat’ you smiled as you approached the reception desk, noticing Sandra was looking back at you with an awkward smile that confused you until you looked to your left and were met with the brown eyed boy you’d been avoiding. ‘Mason? How did you even get in here?’

‘I let him in’ Sandra smiled, looking over at Mason with a wink and you could see him send her an appreciative smile as he made his way closer to you. Only then clicking the giant bunch of pink and white tulips in his arms and your chest felt tight at the sight of them.

‘You shouldn’t have done that’ you told her lowly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear but Sandra had other ideas and brought him into the conversation.

‘Oh come on y/n, how can you say no to that face’ she pouted, tilting her head over to him and once you looked back at Mason his usual cheeky smile adorned his lips as he playfully batted his eyelashes at you. ‘You need to talk to him anyway’

‘No I don’t, what’s he told you?’ you argued back. You purposefully hadn't told Sandra anything about what was going on with Mason as you were embarrassed and wanted to deal with it on your own but you should have known she’d find out eventually. Mothers always do.

‘That you won’t talk to him and that he wants to tell you how sorry he is’

‘Well he can tell me that himself’ you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest before you heard him not so subtly coughing. Looking up to find him glancing between the pair of you like he was reminding you he was still there.

‘I would if you gave me a chance’ he laughed before shyly nodding over to the sofa where guests usually waited. Silently asking you to come with him so you could talk a bit more privately and you reluctantly walked over after a beat. Watching Mason pluck a flower from the bouquet in his arms to give to Sandra as a thank you and you almost cracked a smile at how she blushed when she took it. The pair of them whispering a little before he turned to face you and he walked over like a naughty school boy.

‘Do we have to do this now?’ You asked. Not wanting to have this conversation with him here and now but since you’d been avoiding him you hadn’t given him many other options and you could tell from the way he was looking at you he was determined to speak with you.

‘Yes, we do. You’re ignoring me and left me no choice’

‘Can you just be quick?’ You asked, not wanting to air your dirty laundry in the reception where Sandra could quite easily hear everything and even though you felt bad he’d put the effort in to come and see you, you were practically turning him away.

‘Y/n-

‘Please, Mase. I’m at work’

‘Fine, I’ll go’ he huffed and the heartbroken look on his face made your tummy churn. ‘Only if you agree I can come over later and apologise properly’ he told you but you didn’t agree straight away and you could see he was getting desperate. ‘Y/n please’

‘Okay fine’ you sighed, nodding your head as you knew it would have to be done sooner or later and since he was making the effort you thought you should cut him some slack. His face softened immediately before his eyes fell to the flowers in his hands that he passed to you in with a shy smile

‘These are for you, your favourite’

‘Thank you’ you whispered, taking them carefully and you knew your face was turning red as you held them to your chest. This was the first bunch of flowers anyone had ever bought you and you could feel your eyes welling up at the fact he’d remembered your favourite ones.

‘Well it’s the least you deserve’ he nodded but you didn’t know what to say to him, standing there awkwardly until he coughed. ‘What time will you be home?’

‘Around six’

‘Okay well, maybe I could bring us some food over and we’ll talk’

‘Okay’ you whispered, nodding gently before looking down as you were so overwhelmed with emotions.

He didn’t say anything after that, just touched your arm and planted a quick kiss on your forehead before walking back over to Sandra so he could sign out of the visors book. His action confused you as he never showed you signs of affection aside from the occasional hug so the kiss only made you blush even more. Giving yourself a few seconds to calm down before eventually joining them at the desk.

‘Leaving so soon? Sandra pouted as Mason approached her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she was so clearly wrapped around his finger already.

‘Yeah, this one wants me gone’ he teased, signing his name in the box but Sandra just threw you a disappointed look and you felt awful instantly.

‘Oh y/n’ she tutted before looking back at Mason with doe eyes. ‘If it were up to me I’d let you stay’

‘And that’s why you're my number one girl’ he told her. Flashing her his killer smile and sending her wink before turning back to you. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

You didn’t answer, just nodded before he left with a sad smile and as soon as he was out the door you felt Sandra’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

‘I tell you what, if I was 30 years younger that boy would be in serious trouble’ she told you, fanning herself with a sheet of paper from her notebook and you felt your resolve crack instantly.

‘God sake Sandra’ you laughed. It was clear that Mason was a hit with the ladies but you didn’t know he’d have this hold over someone like Sandra.

‘What’s he done? Is it really that bad or are you just making him sweat?’ She asked casually, the need to spill your guts to her was as overwhelming as ever but something was telling you to keep it under wraps until things with him were sorted so you didn’t say anything you might regret.

‘He’s not been the best for a while but we had a massive argument a few weeks back after he pushed everything a bit too far so we’ve not spoken in a while’

‘I’d just kiss and make up if I were you, he’s too pretty to be mad at’ she teased and you knew you were blushing again. This time out of sheer awkwardness.

‘It’s not like that, Sandra. He’s my best friend, nothing more, okay? No kissing or whatever else you think might be going on’

‘I’m not sure about that’ she mused ‘He doesn’t look at you like a friend’

‘That’s cause he’s trying to get on my good side probably’

‘Hmmm, we’ll see’ she winked but you didn’t want to listen anymore. Quickly making your way back to your desk so she couldn’t try and marry you off to your best friend but you could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through with your flowers. Even Olivia sent you a curious look but you motioned that you’d text her later to explain.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the afternoon. Mason's flowers that were sitting on your desk were a constant reminder that you’d have to see him later and you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, if ever. Everything he’d said to you and the way he’d made you feel was still fresh in your mind and you knew they would take a while to recover from.

You were sick and tired of forgiving him for the cycle to start over again but you couldn’t deny you missed him. Yes things had gotten way out of control but you missed your movie nights and catch ups. You even missed making breakfast together after you’d kicked another girl out for him but you knew it all had to stop. He was a man now and able to look after himself and that’s what you wanted to tell him.

You weren’t expecting him to be on time, he never usually was, but at quarter past six there was a knock on your door. He was earlier than you thought he’d be and when you answered he stood there looking as guilty as ever with a few pizza boxes in his hands and you sent him a small smile before nodding him in.

‘Come in, you whispered, walking him into your living room so he could set the pizza down on the coffee table and take a seat but the only choice you had was to sit next to him as you could only fit a small sofa in here. Your flat wasn’t the biggest in the world and Mason always told you he’d pay for you to live somewhere nicer but it was time like these you were glad he didn’t. Not knowing what might happen if things went up in smoke.

‘Can I talk first? I’ve just been thinking about what I wanna say for days and I don’t wanna mess it up’ he asked you but you just nodded. Not sure what you wanted to say yourself yet so you figured you’d sit and listen to what he wanted to say first.

‘That’s fine’ you whispered, watching him get settled in his seat before launching into his monologue.

‘Okay well, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything’ he gulped ‘I know I’ve been the biggest dick and I’ve hurt you but I really am sorry and I’m gonna prove it to you if you’ll let me’ he confirmed and you felt his words swimming through your veins. Never once had you heard him like before let alone hear the words I’m sorry come out of his mouth and look like he meant it.

‘Last time I saw you, when I went off on one, I was just hurt that you’d called me out and I wanted to get you back for it. I know that’s childish and stupid but you hit home with everything you said and I couldn’t take it’ he told you. Clasping his hands together as some form of distraction as he spoke and you knew he was trying his best to hold it together.

‘You’ve always been there for me, you know? You’ve always done things for me that you shouldn’t have and you’ve stuck up for me when you didn’t need to but I’ve surrounded myself with the complete wrong people who don’t care about me. They’re looking for a good time and never tell me no so I thought it was great, but not having you around has just made me realise they’re not the sort of people I need in my life, yeah? You’re what I need’

His strangled voice was pulling at your heartstrings but no matter what he was saying you didn’t want to jump right in and accept his apology. There was so much you wanted to say and that you needed him to know about how he’d treated you. You could see he was sorry and it was evident that he was hurt but if you didn’t want to let him off easy, you wanted him to understand exactly how you were feeling and leave nothing unsaid so you could move away from it and hopefully move on.

‘Please say something’ he gulped, wanting to hear something from you straight away but you knew as soon as you started you wouldn't be able to stop.

‘Thank you for apologising, it really does mean a lot to me that you came here but i'm really hurt Mase and I’m not really sure what to say’ you told him. Your voice sounding thick no matter how hard you tried to hold the tears in and you watched the heartbreak on his face as he saw you get upset.

‘It just sucked, I guess. To feel like you only ever called me when you needed me, like to get rid of someone or if I fit into your plans. Just felt like you didn’t give a damn about me ever. I’ve never said anything or judged you about the way you acted, not until recently at least, cause we’re friends but maybe I should have. Like just told you no a couple of times but I just felt so small to you and that it wouldn’t make a difference’

You could tell he wanted to speak, to let you know that it was all untrue and that he cared about you more than anything but he didn’t butt in. He let you speak and gave you your time to get everything out you needed to and it was more therapeutic than you thought it would be.

‘You know I remember the last time I knew I couldn’t count on you anymore. It was my last year at uni and I had an evening class so I could present my final project but all the trains were messed up and I had to walk there in the end through the rain’ you sniffed and when you looked at him you knew he knew what night you were talking about. ‘It took me just under an hour and I was late in the end so I got docked points and had to make it up with some extra credit but I called you. I called you and you said you were sorry but you were stuck in an important meeting and you couldn’t get out of it’ you hiccuped and it’s like he didn’t want to hear any more. His hands covering his eyes as he shook his head from side to side but you kept going. ‘But then when I got home and I just wanted someone to talk to and rant to there were pictures of you plastered online with some random girl in your lap and I knew you’d lied to me’

‘I’m sorry’ he blubbed, looking up at you with red eyes and a wobbly bottom lip but even that didn’t stop you from carrying on. The words pouring out from your mouth like a waterfall as years of hurt made their way to the surface.

‘You made me feel so worthless when I’ve stuck around since day dot. You always spout about his family is everything to you but I thought that included me? And I felt like I never meant a thing’

‘You did- you do. You mean everything to me I swear. Please please don’t say that it kills me’ he sobbed before finally reaching for you. Pulling you into his body and you let yourself hide in his neck as the tears fell from your eyes. ‘I was a dick for no reason and you’re the last person I should have taken anything out on. You’re right, I was disgusting and I didn’t care about anyone else and you were the first person I actually cared about who told me no and I couldn't take it’

‘You really hurt me’

‘I know I did and I can't tell you how sorry I am’ he cried. ‘I know I’m not easy to be around or easy to keep up with but you’ve always been there and I took you for granted. I honestly didn’t see what I was doing wrong cause no one ever told me, like everyone just let me do what I wanted but I get it now, I really do. I was just so caught up in having a good time and not thinking about the consequences so I took things too far. I know I’m probably out of second chances but I need to ask again cause I can’t lose you’

Your silence was deafening for him and you knew he wanted some sort of answer from you. Eventually sitting up and making you look at him and even though he looked panicked his voice was calm as he carried on speaking.

‘I’m a fuck up okay? I know I am and I know the last thing you probably want or need is me coming back into your life to cause you more stress again but this massive fuck up has misssd you so so much’

You couldn’t stop the little chuckle that fell from your lips. The sound making him smile too before he took your hands in his.

‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you, I’m sorry for all the lies I’ve told and all the horrible shit I’ve said about you and I’m sorry for the constant 8am wakeup calls on a Saturday cause I can’t control myself. I know how to behave and I know what I need to do so I’ll just do it yeah? No more calling you up to kick girls out for me cause they won’t be there in the first place. You need me and I’ll do whatever I can to get there for you and do exactly what you do for me everyday. These few weeks without you have been awful and I’m sorry it took us getting to this point to make me see but I’d rather get rid of everyone in my circle if it meant I got to keep you’ he confirmed as he squeezed your hands a bit tighter. ‘What do you say, huh? Do you think we could work something out?’

‘I mean, you’re right. It probably is the last thing I need’ you started, watching his head sink as his eyes fell to his lap but you just considered it a tiny bit of payback for now. ‘But I can’t lie and say that I haven’t missed you too,’ you told him. Voice wobbling at the end as your emotions took over and you could see he was also finding it hard to take. ‘But I miss the old Mason, I miss my friend’

‘I’m still here I promise. Just give me a chance and I’ll show you I’m still in here’

‘Please don’t make me regret it’ you whispered but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. Mason bundling you into his arms and the feeling of his arms around you settled you more than anything else had and when he pulled back to smile at you, you felt your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Just because you’ve apologised doesn’t mean things can go back to the way they were. I might need some time’

‘I know, I don’t want that either. I’m gonna prove to you how much I’ve changed and we’ll go at your pace. I just needed to apologise and that’s whether you accepted it or not, but I really would love it if you did’

‘I do’ you told him, your face crumpling once again but he was quick to wrap you up and comfort you once again.

Over the next few weeks he was an angel, giving you the space you needed but also checking in when he could. Things felt normal but so different at the same time and the relief of having your friend back was overwhelming. It was two weeks later when you next saw him in person though, Mason messaging you early Friday evening to see what you were up to the next day but you weren’t expecting his response.

The fact he was offering to drive was tempting. You hated lugging heavy bags on the train and the fact the prospect of food was involved was even more appealing but you hadn’t hung out like this in a long time even before your big fight. Mostly because he was always busy but also because you’d just silently grown apart in that way. Mason liked getting his own way and him doing things for other people didn’t fall into that category.

You had a lot to do and the last thing you needed was him getting bored and rushing you round before spending an afternoon with him trying to annoy you. You knew it was mean but you wanted to put him off a little bit so you could shop in peace but you didn’t want him to think you were still mad at him and didn’t want to hang out.

His message made your heart sink. He really was trying and you knew he wanted more opportunities to prove himself but before you could think about it anymore he was messaging you again to try and convince you even more and you couldn’t deny him this time.

When 9 rolled around the next morning he was there. Standing by his car as he opened the door for you after a quick hug and you promised yourself you’d try and be positive about today and give him a chance to prove himself if that’s what he really wanted.

‘You eaten?’ He asked as you got bucked in, knowing how hungry you got in the mornings but you always prioritised sleep over eating. You had a little bit of extra time today though so you nodded your head at him but didn’t miss how his face dropped slightly.

‘I had some toast’

‘Oh okay, I um… I picked you up one of those juices you like and a pastry but if you don’t want it that’s fine’ he mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed and you felt your heart race at how thoughtful he’d been.

‘Oh… oh no I’ll have it. You know what I’m like, always starving’ you laughed, accepting the little bag and juice he’d picked you up with a smile and you could see how shy he looked. An expression he didn’t usually wear and his soft smile made your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Thank you, Mase’

‘It’s okay’ he whispered, starting the car so he could look away from you and even though the drive was fairly silent with just the low sound of his music playing, you didn’t feel awkward.

‘You coming then?’ You asked as he finished parking, watching his smile light up his face knowing you weren’t going to leave him to sit in the car on his own before he nodded enthusiastically at you.

‘So this trip, is it the usual?’ He asked as you made your way into the main shopping centre and you knew he was referring to where you were going as you visited your auntie in Spain every year.

‘Yeah, it’s just for a few days this time but I really need the break’ you explained and he nodded at you knowingly.

You went to Boots first, Mason holding the basket for you as he followed behind and you filled it with everything you needed. You were about halfway round the shop when you realised something was different, Mason not questioning why you needed everything you put in the basket or making stupid jokes. If anything he was more than helpful, reaching the higher shelves for you and manoeuvring you around the busy aisles by your waist as he knew you hated the crowds.

When it came time to pay, he scanned everything for you while you packed the bag and when you were done he picked it up without any questions so you didn’t have to carry it.

Next on your list was clothes. Wanting to try a few different things on to your usual so you could mix it up a bit and when you had an armful of things to try you turned to Mason with a smile.

‘Will you come into the changing room with me?’

‘What?’ He choked, his eyes going wide immediately as the question sunk in but you just rolled your eyes as you tugged on his wrist.

‘Yeah I need your opinion and I can’t be bothered to keep walking out here every time. I’ll go to one of the family ones so my arse isn’t shoved in your face, don't worry’ you laughed, pushing him inside with you so he didn’t have a choice but you could see the awkwardness on his face. Eventually shifting his eyes to the floor until you bundled him into a cubicle and made him sit on the seat in the corner.

‘I um… what do I-i um’ he mumbled as he set the bags down and you couldn’t help but giggle at his awkwardness. A side of him you hadn’t seen in a while.

‘Oh come on, it’s not like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before’ you laughed thinking back to when you were growing up and to even more recent times like when he showed up at your door and on nights out when he had to put you to bed after one too many but you could see he wasn’t feeling a bit strange so you hung the dresses up on the rail and smiled at him reassuringly. ‘Shut your eyes until I tell you to open them, yeah?’

‘Okay’ he whispered. Shutting his eyes and covering them with his hands as you turned away and picked up the first dress.

It was nothing like you usually wore. Tight and short with a fully cut out back meaning you had to quickly take your bra off to try it on and the thought of wearing it outside these four walls terrified you but you were determined to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

‘You can open them now, what do you think?’ You asked him, watching his eyes adjust to the light for a second before an unreadable emotion took over his face.

‘Oh it’s um… it’s different’ he told you and you couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

‘Well I’ve been thinking about what you said and even though I was pissed at the time and you could have probably worded it nicer I think you were right’ you told him, hands brushing over the short skirt and even though you felt different in it you didn’t feel too uncomfortable. ‘I need to show a bit more skin, you know?’

‘Wait-‘

‘What do boys like more? Bum or boobs? Like what do I need to-‘

‘Wait, stop’ he interrupted, the tone of his voice making you stop in your tracks and turn to him and when he held his hand out to you, you took it carefully. Letting him pull you in between your legs slowly so he could talk to you better but when you felt his fingertips on the backs of your bare thighs your legs turned to jelly.

You didn’t know what it was, that weird feeling pulsating through you at just a simple touch from Mason of all people and the sensation made it feel like you couldn’t get your breath out properly. In the end you had to rest your hands on his chest so you didn’t crumple to the floor and it was like the atmosphere changed within a heartbeat.

His big brown eyes looked dark as he peered up at you through his lashes, the bridge of his nose a deep red and his pouty lips had parted slightly as he tried to control his breathing but it’s like you blinked and the moment was gone. His eyes moving to look at your shoulder now and you moved your hands away from his chest to cross them over your body.

‘Sit down, yeah?’ He whispered, nodding his head to his leg and you sat on his thigh as he caged you in his arms. His face serious as you wondered what he might be about to say to you and you could feel your cheeks getting warm as he looked at you in a way he never had before. ‘You don’t… you don’t need to change the way you look or dress, okay? I was a dick and I shouldn’t have said all that before. It was crap of me and it wasn’t true anyway’

‘But-‘

‘But nothing’ he whispered, cutting you off and you felt your eyes sting as he smiled sweetly at you. ‘You deserve the world, you know that? And you deserve a man who doesn’t care about how much skin you’ve got on show or what your body looks like in what you’ve got on. You want a man who cares about what’s going on in here’ he whispered, tapping your temple lightly before doing the same to the top of your chest. ‘And in here. And yeah it might be a wait but you’ll get there. You don’t have to sell yourself short to dickheads like me who don’t have what you need, okay?’

‘It just gets hard sometimes’ you sniffed, his words hitting you deep in your tummy and you couldn’t stop the tears spilling from your eyes before you felt him pulling you into his body for a cuddle. Your head nestled into his neck as you held onto him for dear life but the feel of his hand stroking up and down your back bare soothed you ever so slightly.

‘I know it does’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ You hiccuped, barely able to hold yourself together at this point but his gentle touches really were helping. You felt safe with him for the first time in a long time and you knew you could tell him anything and it wouldn’t matter. He’d listen and reassure you like best friends are supposed to.

‘Nothing, I promise. Absolutely nothing, you’re perfect okay’ he told you. Speaking the words directly into ear and he sounded so determined and sure of himself that the sound made you shiver. ‘You’re too perfect, maybe that’s the problem. It's dicks like me that have got something wrong with us yeah’ he laughed and you let out a little chuckle before pulling back so you could wipe your eyes. ‘Does everything you picked out look like that?’

‘Yeah’ you laughed, smiling as he caught the tears you missed.

‘Okay well let me go and look for you, I saw a few bits that are more you but just a bit different. You can try those on and see what you think, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, not sure about this idea but you were willing to entertain him at this point and when he came back with a few bits you were actually surprised at how much you loved them. Still your style but just a little different and you couldn’t help but give Mason a massive hug at the end.

Once you’d paid, Mason offered to take all the bags back to the car whilst you popped into Primark for underwear and socks and once you were done you met him outside. Your tummy grumbling as it approached lunchtime and he let you pick wherever you wanted to go but you settled on Nando’s as you knew that’s secretly what he wanted and since he’d been good to you that morning you figured you’d be good to him.

You were back at his just after one, leaving your bags in the car but you noticed he’d taken in a white paper bag that you hadn’t seen him with all day and after the pair of you got yourselves a drink and settled on the sofa, he turned to you with a shy smile.

‘Hey, so I got you something’ he told you nervously, producing the white paper bag from earlier from the side of the sofa and you took it from him with a confused grin.

You didn’t ask what it was, just reached in to grab hold of the box and when you finally pulled it out you almost lost your breath. The brightly coloured picture of the northern lights making you smile immediately before you looked up to his nervous face.

‘I wanted to get you one we could maybe do together? I know it’s probably not as big or complicated as you’re used to but I thought we could start me off easy’ he laughed but you were too overcome with emotion to think of anything to say. Never in a million years did you think he’d want to do a puzzle with you let alone buy you one with a picture of the place you’d always wanted to visit the most on it.

‘Can we do it now?’ You asked excitedly. Knowing you had the whole afternoon together to finish it and when his face mirrored yours you felt like jumping up and down.

‘Of course’ he grinned. ‘I’ll clear the coffee table and we can do it there if that’s alright?’

‘That's perfect’ you nodded, hugging the box to your chest as you stood up before touching his arm gently so he’d look at you. ‘Do you mind if I borrow something to wear? I like to be comfy when I’m getting my puzzle on’ you laughed but he just smiled before motioning to follow you to his room. Picking you out a few things to choose from and you settled on a pair of his grey shorts and an oversized T-shirt of his before taking a hoodie down with you just in case you got cold.

Mason got changed too just after you before running into the kitchen to get you both some snacks and drinks whilst you cleared the table and soon enough you were tipping the contense of the box onto the table so you could get started.

‘Right what do we do?’ Mason questioned, the large pile of tiny pieces daunting him quite clearly but you just giggled as you took a seat opposite him.

‘Well I’ll tell you how I do it, so we need to find the corner pieces first, then the edges then we’ll sort the leftovers out by colour and go from there. That sound good?’

‘Okay’ he nodded and you gave him the task of the corners and edges whilst you organised the rest. Only realising then how much of a difficult one this one might be. He was right in saying it was less pieces than you were used to but the picture was complicated and once he’d got all his pieces sorted he looked at you with a confused smile.

‘You realise this is gonna be difficult? And we could be here for a while’ You told him, watching him gulp nervously before looking back at all the pieces.

‘Really? But it’s only 500 pieces. The ones you do are thousands’

‘Yeah but the picture here is complicated, it's just all random colours like there’s no buildings or anything to work from’

‘Oh, shit sorry’ he laughed before shrugging at you. ‘I just know you’ve always wanted to go so I thought you’d like it’

‘No don’t be sorry, I do like it. Love it, in fact. I just don’t want you to get bored or frustrated with it if it takes a while’

‘No it’s okay, I can do it’ he told you. The same determined look you’d seen in his eyes countless times before important games and finals and it made you smile that he was applying the same fight for this.

You let him put some background music on as you worked away. Talking lightly about some plans you both had coming up but it was difficult for Mason to multitask. You could see he was trying his best and had done a lot of work in one of the corners but he couldn’t puzzle and talk like you could and you thought his concentrated face was cute. Often finding yourself just watching him for a few moments until he caught you and sent you a lopsided smile as he blushed.

You ordered food in when the time came. Taking a small break so you could reevaluate how much you’d done before jumping back in and it was approaching 9pm when you finally finished. Mason giving you the last piece to place in as he knew it was your favourite bit before you cheered and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

‘Not bad for something dorks do, huh?’ You giggled but it was like he was frozen. His gaze all over your face before a look of guilt washed over his.

‘You know I never thought you were a dork’ he gulped, wrapping his arms around you tighter and pulling you further into his lap.

‘Mase it’s fine-‘

‘No, cause it’s not’ he shrugged. ‘I never meant it in a malicious way but even playing it’s still not nice so I’m sorry’

‘Thank you’ whispered and after he gave you a quick smile he was looking down at his lap shly again.

‘It’s kinda late, do you maybe wanna stay over? We can have a sleepover like we used to’ he winked and while the idea sounded fun you were also a little unsure.

‘I don’t wanna sleep in your sex bed’ you laughed and the shocked expression on his face made you giggle.

‘Hey, you think I let just anyone go in there? He laughed. ‘I don’t take random girls in there, I take them to the loft room. Well I did at least, I haven’t done that in a while’

‘Why not?’

‘Dunno, just not in the mood? Been too busy begging for your forgiveness’ he teased before his eyes were boring into yours. ‘Please stay’

‘Okay’ you whispered, slightly thankful he’d asked as you didn’t fancy the drive home this late. You were already sleepy and when he tucked you in next to him after he’d put a movie on it didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

The pair of you joked the next morning about who he would call to come and kick you out and you hadn’t felt this normal with him in years. Your Mason was back and you couldn’t be more thankful but again over the next few weeks his behaviour began to change.

It seemed to be going the opposite way though, Mason swapping his devil horns for angel wings and it was like he was getting sweeter by the second.

Every morning you woke up to a good morning text, and every evening he’d text you goodnight. Messaging you throughout the day when he could and even though it was always silly conversations it was like he’d made it his mission to make you smile whenever he could. He was being the best friend he could be and so much more but it was like he was changing his whole life for the better. No more random nights out so he could trap a girl and take her home, no more mean jokes at your expense and you hadn’t heard about his gaggle of yes men in weeks.

You spent all of your free time together. No matter what you were doing or how boring you thought he might have found it he wanted to be there doing it with you.

You knew Mason was always touchy with everyone but he’d never been the same with you. A hand on your shoulder maybe but that was it, however now he couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from you now. Always standing next to you when he could, his hands on your waist or you back or his fingers threaded through yours as you sat and watched tv.

You could feel things changing but you weren’t sure what it was. Wondering if he was just happy you were back but you needed an explanation for the puppy eyes he was sending your way every five seconds that you didn’t understand.

You waited until you’d been to his for dinner one night, letting him load the dishwasher as you got comfortable on the sofa and once he was done he flopped down with his head in your lap as a content hum fell from his lips.

‘What’s gotten into you lately?’ You laughed, massaging his head slightly as he nestled into your lap even further but the action just made you laugh until he was rolling onto his back and looking up at you with a smile that made his eyes crease.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I know I said I wanted the old Mason back but this is something else’ you winked and you could see his cheeks flush as you called him out for his actions.

‘Well I want you to like me’ he shrugged, sitting up and taking your hand in his and even though he was shy you kept pressing him in hope of some answers.

‘You’re my best friend Mason, of course I like you’

‘What if I more than like you?’ He whispered, so quietly you thought you hadn’t heard it but when your eyes met his you knew he’d said what you thought he had.

‘I don’t understand’

‘I don’t either really’ he laughed, sitting up taller so he could face you and you felt your heart race at what he might be saying. ‘All I know is that things have changed for me and I feel like I need you to know how I feel. It’s fine if you don’t feel it too but I’ve just been feeling these things for you for a few weeks and you’re the person I tell everything to so I feel like I’ve got to tell you now’

‘What things are you feeling?’ You asked. Wondering if you’d maybe got the wrong end of the stick but his next sentence took the breath out of your lungs.

‘Im feeling like I wanna kiss you’ he whispered, barely able to hear him but you knew what he’d said.

What?

You couldn’t speak, and by the looks of it Mason knew he had to keep speaking so you let him squeeze you hand as he word vomited everything he’d been holding in.

‘I just keep having these moments with you, like time stops and I’m in this trance and all I can focus on you and wanting you in a way I’ve never done before. Remember when we did that puzzle? You put that last piece in and you were just so happy like I swear to god all I wanted to was kiss your face off’ he laughed but you couldn’t believe what he was saying. Not sure how to react as no one had ever said anything like this to you let alone your best friend.

‘Mase I- I don’t think I-‘

‘It’s okay’ he smiled. ‘I said it’s fine if you don’t’ he smiled and even though him saying it made you feel better, you could tell he was a little embarrassed. Wondering if you should make a joke to ease the tension and as he looked away you began to speak without even thinking.

‘I know you said you weren’t in the mood for girls but you must be really desperate if you’re thinking about kissing me’ you laughed, trying to ease the tension slightly but he just smiled at you and shrugged.

‘I wouldn't go that far. But it’s honestly fine, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I’ve probably got all mixed up. I’m sure it’s just a phase and it’ll pass’ he laughed. ‘Just forget it, it’s fine and I don’t want things to be weird’

But how could you forget?

No one in your entire existence had ever admitted having feelings for you. It was something you never thought would happen yet here was your best friend telling you he felt like he wanted to kiss you.

It was like a switch had suddenly gone off in your brain, over the coming weeks finding yourself daydreaming about kissing him too and what it might be like to be his girl. Thinking about how his hand would feel clasped in your own, his fingers linked in between yours or just how his touch would feel anywhere and everywhere on your body.

You shook yourself out of it at first, like you were waking yourself up from a nightmare and you couldn’t comprehend how your brain had conjured up such a strange image but as the days went on you basked in it. Giggling as you dreamed about all the things you could do together and how happy you could be.

The pair of you had always been platonic, and whilst lately the lines maybe had become a bit blurred as he became touchier with you with the added time you spent together, your thoughts about him lately were anything but platonic.

Everytime you shut your eyes all you could see was his soft smile and the way his eyes creased at the sides so adorably. The dimple on his cheek made your heart race and all you could think about was taking him up on his offer and planting your lips on his. It wasn’t just his smile though, it was everything. His chocolate chip eyes you wanted to drown in, his smell that made you feel like home and his arms that made you feel safer than anything else.

Everything seemed to be hitting you like a truck and you felt ridiculous. Waiting for his name to pop up on your phone constantly and the butterflies only intensified with each new message. Finding yourself sat giggling in anticipation of what he was going to say next and going to bed with a huge smile on your face every night.

You never meant to fall for him, much like he probably never meant to fall for you, but it had happened and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Feeling like a schoolgirl with your first crush and the fact you knew it was reciprocated somewhat excited you and filled you with dread at the same time.

The more you thought about him, the sillier you started to feel. He never offered to be your boyfriend, never said anything about dates or anything extra. He’d said he wanted to kiss you, and that was it.

The words just a phase rang through your ears constantly and as the days went by you realised you didn’t want to be just a phase to him. Disappointment flooding you at him trying his best to curb his feelings whilst yours only grew for him.

You’d noticed he’d pulled back from you a little bit, trying his hardest not to talk to you every minute of the day but you didn’t let him ignore you for too long. Now you were in your feels all you could think about was him and when you might next get to see him. Not wanting to look too eager and alert him to the fact anything had changed but when he text you one evening you felt your excitement levels rise.

You decided to wear one of the dresses he’d picked out for you for your holiday and gave yourself enough time to do your makeup nicely and straighten your hair. You didn't know why you wanted to, or maybe you did, but it was the first night out where he wasn’t trying to set you up with one of his friends and you felt more relaxed about it. That was until he text you that he was on his way and you felt like throwing up.

It's like the words were stuck in his throat as soon as he saw you, frozen to the spot as you locked your door behind you and you could see him visibly gulp as he tried to shake it off and say hello to you properly.

It was one of the weirdest nights out you’d ever been on, the pair of you turning up together and he led you to your section by your hand. Once he’d found you both seats next to each other he was off to the bar to get you a drink with his eyes not leaving you for me more a few moments before he was back with you.

Things only got weirder though as he paid no attention to any of the girls looking his way, not even engaging in conversation with most of the girls the boys would introduce to him and when you tried to question him about it he just shrugged and said he wasn’t in the mood.

‘Hey y/n, have you met Ethan?’ Woody asked as he nodded someone over. A tall guy with dark hair and bright blue eyes making his way over to you and you rolled your eyes at his clear attempt to set you up with another one of his friends after you’d told him to stop but the feeling of Mason dropping your hand from under the table that made you turn away to look back at him.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you what looked like a sad smile before you had to turn back to say hello to Ethan. Woody banging on about how he came from Portsmouth just like you and Mason and how they’d gone to primary school together but now Ethan was in the Navy hence why you’d never seen him but he was back for a little while to visit.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you felt weird now Mason's hand wasn’t in yours. Looking down to see it was resting on his thigh so as carefully and as sneakily as you could you laced your fingers back through his and squeezed it gently. Not acknowledging him in any way but you could see his head snap up to look at you from the corner of your eye before his other hand fell over your clasped ones. Fiddling with your rings as the others spoke and you tried not to smile at how adorable he was being.

All the thoughts you’d had about having more with Mason that week, he was making a reality tonight. Giving you glimpses of what it might be like to to be his and how he might treat you but you were still so unsure as to what he wanted as he told you he was just a phase he was getting over so you played dumb for little.

‘You wanna dance?’ You asked him, tugging on his hand gently but he just scrunched his face up slightly.

‘I’m good, you go I’ll watch you’ he smiled and whilst the thought of him watching you dance thrilled you a little bit, you also could tell he wasn’t on his a game and looked like he didn’t even want to be there at all anymore.

‘Are you okay? You don’t seem as into it as usual’

‘I’m fine’ he shrugged ‘Dunno just not in the mood to be around loads of people i guess’

‘We can leave if you want? I mean it’s way past my bedtime anyway’

‘We can, but I’ve got one condition’ he told you with a smile, leaning closer so he could talk right in your ear and you felt every hair in your body stand to attention.

‘What’s that?’

‘Come stay at mine?’ He whispered and his offer made you freeze. ‘I’ll make you breakfast in the morning’

‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him take your hand and lead you out but you were surprised he didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone first. Only giving Woody a quick wave who gave the pair of you a look you couldn't quite make out before you were jumping in a cab back to his.

Part of you was happy he wanted to get home earlier than usual, it had been a long week and once you were changed into an oversized T-shirt of his you got settled on your side of his bed. Hazily watching him slip under the covers in just a pair of boxers as you tried to hide a smile and thankfully he didn’t catch it.

‘Go to sleep love, you look exhausted’ he laughed, tucking the duvet around you a little more tightly. ‘I’ve just got a few emails to look through okay but I’ll be quite’

‘That’s fine, Night Mase’

‘Night love’ he whispered and you turned onto your side away from him so you could get comfy and hopefully drift off soon.

Your whole body felt like a dead weight, your eyes feeling like they’d been stuck together with glue but your mind wouldn’t shut off and you knew you would be thinking about Mason and replaying most of the night you’d just spent together. Remembering the way he held your hand, held your waist and spoke directly into your ear like you were his made your spine tingle. But the memories were soon becoming warped and disfigured as your brain became tired and you eventually let the sleep take you.

You hadn't been asleep long, but the feeling of Mason's arm sliding around your waist as he cuddled up to you woke you slightly. Not enough to wake you up fully and the warmth of his body pressed against yours was already sending you back to sleep so you just went with it and let him hold you. Revelling in the soft kisses he was pressing to your shoulder as you tried not to smile but you definitely weren't ready for what was about to happen next.

‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’ He whispered, only just loud enough for you to hear but you knew you shouldn’t be. He obviously thought you were still asleep and couldn’t hear him so you stayed as still as you could and kept your breathing steady in hopes he’d carry on. ‘I’d do absolutely anything for you, you know that? And I’m really trying to get over you but you make it so difficult’

I don’t want you to get over me was the first thought in your head but you didn’t vocalise it. You wanted him to keep talking, to see what else he could admit to your semi unconscious state and luckily enough for you he kept going.

‘I know I said it was just a phase but I’m not so sure it is now. You’re the only person who knows the real me and wants what’s best for me. I can’t get you out of my head’

You waited for more, but it never came. Soon enough his soft snores filled the room and you knew he was asleep but his admissions were enough for you. You knew how he felt, and you were pretty sure you felt the same now but you weren’t sure if you had the balls to do anything about it right now so you followed his lead and shut your eyes so you could let the sleep take you again.

Mason was still asleep when you awoke. The pair of you facing each other as you’d turned in your sleep and you used the time he was asleep just to look at him. His pouty lips and pink cheeks made your tummy flutter and after what you’d heard last night all you could think about is what to say to him this morning.

He didn’t give you too much longer to think about it though and you felt your heart thump as he stirred awake. His eyes opening softly as they latched onto yours but his expression remained unchanged asides from a small smile. Just looking back at you as you did the same to him and a sense of peace washed over you.

The pair of you were both on the edge of your own respective pillows, as close as you could be without touching one another but the moment felt intimate and you could see the love in his eyes for you as you watched each other bathed in the early morning sun. The light bringing out the golden tones in his hair and the honey hues in his eyes, it hitting you right there that your best friend was probably the most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid eyes on.

You both didn’t move for a while. Content with just looking at the person in front of you and thinking how thankful you were that you got a chance to wake up next to them and you knew this was only ending one way. You were nervous to say the least, but after everything you’d heard last night you were pretty sure you were on the same page and he’d welcome what you were about to give him.

It was you that made the first move. Not even sure as to why you did it but you lent forward slowly, watching how his body mirrored your own as you kept going and both your eyes snapped away from one another. Focusing on the others lips now and just as your hand reached out to touch his chest for a bit of support, your lips finally locked and his hand cupped your jaw immediately.

It wasn’t a soft kiss like you thought it might be, Mason stole the breath from your lungs as soon as it hit him what was happening. Pushing himself forward so he could hover over you and control the kiss a bit more but you moved your hand to the back of his head so he wouldn’t part from you.

Your tummy was erupting with butterflies, your chest heaving as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you couldn’t help but press yourself into him further. Letting him grip your thigh as he hitched it up his body and you were quite happy to get lost in him but it was Mason that pulled back. Kissing over your cheeks until you were giggling and when he eventually pulled back his smile made your heart melt.

He was quick to settle back down next to you. Pulling your body right up against his and keeping your thigh wrapped around his waist before you felt his hand on your lower back so he could tickle your skin lightly.

‘Sorry’ you whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed about what you’d done but his gentle smile relaxed you.

‘Don’t be, I don’t mind’ he smiled. Pecking your lips again softly and you knew you were blushing. ‘You know I’ve been wanting to kiss for a while but I didn’t wanna push things too far’ he smiled ‘and it’s not that I don’t want to ever, but I don’t want you to regret anything right now’

‘I wouldn’t have’ you whispered, watching his face soften slightly but deep down you knew it was for the best. You still didn’t know what any of this meant and it was clearly obvious to Mason you were worried as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face and gave you a sympathetic smile.

‘What is it, love? What’s on your mind’

‘I just… I’m not sure, like what does all of this mean?’ You breathed. Watching his eyes light up as you finally spoke your mind. ‘Your my best friend Mason, I don’t want to lose you’

‘You won’t’

‘But I need to know what you want. Is it just a kiss? Like are we done now?’ You laughed, trying to keep it light as it was a pretty serious conversation but the smile on his face relaxed you.

‘No, I’m definitely not done with you’ he told you sincerely. ‘I get us being friends complicates things a little bit but I’m not the guy you think I am, not anymore at least anyway and definitely not when it comes to you’

‘I feel like I’m not enough for you’ you whispered, finally addressing the elephant in the room and you could tell your words had upset him a little bit. The frown on his face was adorable but you wanted him to know how you felt no matter how awful it sounded.

‘Don’t say that’ he huffed, kissing your jaw gently. ‘Tell me why so I can tell you it’s rubbish’

‘No because what if I can’t give you everything those other girls have?’ You laughed even though you were trying to be serious. ‘Like I don't wanna be a dick but you’ve always said you’d never be a one woman guy so what’s changed. What if your eyes wander somewhere else? What do I do then?’

You didn’t mean for it to come out so abruptly but Mason knew you never minced your words and didn’t take it too badly. He knew his past and he owned it but he also knew it was his feelings for you that had changed him and he was willing to say whatever he could to get you on board.

‘Remember the day we did the puzzle together, and I said I hadn’t slept with anyone in a while cause I wasn’t in the mood? Well that wasn’t the reason. I didn't know it then fully but I hadn’t because all I wanted was you and the thought of being with anyone else made me feel weird’ he told you. His fingers delicately tracing patterns on your back as he spoke and you knew you were hanging off his every word. ‘At first I thought it was because I missed us being together and I wanted to spend more time with you, but then I wanted to spend all my time with you. My eyes aren’t gonna wander okay? They haven’t in months and why would they when you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’

‘You’re just saying that’ you whispered, not used to compliments like that coming from him and your instincts were to think he was lying but you could see in his eyes something had changed.

‘Don’t tell me what I think’ he teased, squeezing your sides gently. ‘I’ve always thought you were pretty, why do you think I could never understand that you were single?’

‘Mase I’ve never… I’ve never done any of this. You’re the first boy who’s ever admitted to feeling anything more than friendship with me. I don’t know what to do’

‘You don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to do anything okay? Nothing has to change. I just wanna hold you more, kiss you more maybe if that’s something you’d want’

‘I’ve never had sex’ you blurted and the confession made him chuckle. Clearly he knew this already but you just wanted him to be certain of what he was getting himself into.

‘That’s fine’ he whispered, pulling you in a little closer. ‘I know you’re scared, okay? This is different for me too. I’ve never had a proper girlfriend before, I mean I’ve dated girls and been exclusive with a couple but never got to the official stage. I’ve never wanted that from anyone but I want it from you. If that’s what you want’

‘I think I do, I’m just…’

‘What?’ He whispered, a look of love and reassurance on his face and you felt your eyes sting at how safe you felt with him.

‘I’m fucking terrified’ you laughed. ‘I know I’ve been trying to find someone but I never thought it would be you’

‘Well I didn’t think I’d fall for you either’ he winked before placing a soft kiss to your lips that made you melt into the sheets. ‘We don’t have to stick a big label on it or anything, we can just hang out like we have been and see what comes natural to us okay? And if it’s sex your worried about then I don’t care about waiting’

‘I don’t wanna be bad for you’

‘You won’t be, not when you’ve got me for a teacher anyway’ he joked and you rolled your eyes before his face got serious. ‘I know you’re scared but you know you can trust me don't you? I wanna be the one to show you, to make you feel good. I wanna be the one you trust to show you how good it can be’ he whispered and you felt your skin tingle all over at his words. ‘But we’ll wait until you’re ready cause there’s a million things we need to do before we get there’

‘So I’m not just a phase then?’

‘Not at all’ he laughed, ‘and I never thought you were. I could just tell you didn’t feel the same when I told you how I felt and I was trying to make you feel better’ He’d explained. ‘I couldn't go three weeks without you, gorgeous. And I knew I’d fucked up the next day but I was too much of a dick to do anything about it until I couldn’t cope without you anymore’

‘So.. you’re looking for a relationship then?’ You asked, wanting everything out on the table so you could both be certain about what was going on and you watched his face soften at you as he bit his lip nervously.

‘I wasn’t, you know I’ve never cared about that stuff but you’ve made me care. I want to do all that stuff with you. I’m done messing people around okay I just want you’

‘I want you too’ you whispered, finally admitting it out loud and you felt the weight of the world lift off of you.

‘Yeah? I thought you didn’t’

‘So did I, but ever since you told me how you felt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about us. Its like you tapped into this weird part of my brain that thinks about you in ways I never have before’

‘You’ve finally fallen victim to my mind control’ he teased and you only had a second to smile before his lips were on yours again. Hot and heavy as you wrapped yourselves around each other and you realised kissing Mason was better than you ever imagined. You just hoped you could somehow make him feel the same one day but when Mason pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes told you all you needed to know.

‘So if you’ve never had sex and never had a boyfriend, was that your first kiss?’ He asked quizzically, a spark of hope in his eyes that he could kiss you like no one else had but unfortunately you had to burst his bubble just a tiny bit.

‘You’d think it would be but no it wasn’t’ you giggled and he looked at you in deep confusion. ‘You remember Scott from school? Scott Grey?’ You asked and he nodded his head in confusion. ‘Well technically he was my first kiss’

‘You what?’

‘Oh yeah’ you laughed, laying on your back as he pushed you back slightly and you could see the jealousy written all over his face. 'He took me round the back of the science building after school once to show me his new tamagotchi. Asked if I’d liked to be its mum before planting one on me and then never spoke to me again’

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would have kicked his dick off’ he told you, brows pinched as you could tell how annoyed he was with him but you were quick to hold his face and kiss his nose.

‘First of all, no you wouldn’t have. He was twice your size and his dad was on the school board so you could have been kicked out. And secondly I never told you cause you’ve never asked’

‘I’ve been pretty rubbish haven’t I’ he huffed, it suddenly hitting him that he simultaneously knew everything about you but also nothing at all but the way you stroked his cheek let him know everything was okay.

‘If it makes you feel any better, you were my first proper kiss. I’ve never kissed anyone like that before’

‘That does make me feel better’ he chuckled. Getting himself settled next to you again before he pulled you into his chest. ‘What about dates?’

‘I’ve been on a couple’

‘When was the last one?’

‘Like two months ago? A few days after we had our big argument’

‘What?’ He laughed, tickling your sides until you giggled but you fought him off eventually.

‘After I called you a dick and left the club that night, Olivia took me to a party at some guys from works house. I got talking to one of his friends and we went out on a date a few days after but it was actually me that wasn’t feeling it and I told him I didn't see things going anywhere’

‘What was wrong with him?’ He asked quietly but that was the issue. There was nothing wrong with him at all.

‘Just didn’t feel what I thought I should have felt you know?’ You whispered and you saw Mason nod gently with a smile on his lips. ‘I know I’ve never been in that situation or felt those things before but I told myself when I did eventually find someone I wouldn’t settle for just anyone. I want fireworks and warmth and all those things you read about’

‘Do you feel it now?’ He whispered, his eyes searching your face erratically almost as if he was scared of your answer but little did he know he had no reason to be.

‘I do, yeah’

The relieved breath that fell from Mason's lips made you smile wider than you had in a while. His own face mirroring yours just as he planted another heavy kiss on your lips before trailing his kissed down your jaw and neck and you knew you had to try and distract him before you both ended up in a compromised position.

‘Mason?’ You gasped, hearing him chuckle against your skin and even though he stopped his attack with his lips you felt him nestle into you with a content hum that made you pull him in closer.

‘Yes love?’ He spoke against your neck, the vibrations travelling over every inch of your skin and you had to hold in your gasp at the feel of it.

‘You promised me breakfast’ you whispered and that was all it took for him to pull up and look at you with his usual cheeky smile.

‘I did, didn't I’ he laughed. Gently brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. ‘How do pancakes sound?’

‘It sounds like you want me to make breakfast’ you pouted, watching him nod at you enthusiastically before he was trying his hardest to pull you away from the warmth and safety of the duvet.

‘I love how you get me. Come on, I’ll assist you’ he confirmed and you didn’t have it in you to argue. Letting him pull you up so you could stand in front of him and when you felt his hands dangerously low on your back you smiled up at him cheekily. ‘Thank you for giving me a shot, I know I don’t deserve one’

‘You better make it worth my while then, Mount’ you teased but no more words needed to be said. You could see it in his eyes he was ready to make things as good for the pair of you as he could so you let him lead you downstairs by the hand to start the next part of your journey together.

Well done if you made it 🤭 thank you so so much for reading and I’d love some feedback if you fancy it 😘 xxx

[pucksandpower]

Ice Queen: Fire Meets Ice

Max Verstappen x Räikkönen!Reader

Summary: how you and Max went from playing together in the paddock while your fathers raced to being the ones racing

Series Masterlist

First Meetings

“Who’s that, Papa?” You ask, pointing to a slightly older boy playing with toy cars a few feet away.

“That’s Max,” Kimi replies, glancing down at you with an amused expression. “Wanna go play?”

You consider it for a moment, your two-year-old face taking on a comically serious expression. “Will he share his cars?”

Your father chuckles, “Only one way to find out.”

As you toddle over, Max looks up, his blue eyes curious. “Hi. I’m Max.”

You stare at him, sizing him up with all the intensity a two-year-old can muster. “I want that one,” you declare, pointing to a red toy car.

Max raises an eyebrow, a hint of a challenge in his gaze. “That’s my favorite.”

You mimic the same deadpan expression you've seen Kimi wear countless times. “Mine now.”

Max seems taken aback for a second but then bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay! We can share.”

For the rest of the day, the two of you are inseparable. Racing toy cars, building makeshift tracks, and causing minor chaos in the paddock.

At one point, you both decide to “race.” Max, being older, naturally has the advantage but that doesn’t deter you. You’re determined to keep up.

“Papa says I’m fast,” you tell Max confidently as you both line up for the big race.

Max smirks, “My vader says I’m faster.”

You frown, looking genuinely offended. “No way.”

The two of you race, or more accurately, engage in a hilarious toddler trot. It’s less about speed and more about who can go the longest without tripping over their own feet.

As the day draws to an end, Max’s father approaches. He doesn’t seem as warm as your father but he nods in acknowledgment, “Looks like you two got on well.”

Kimi ruffles your hair, looking down at you with a smirk, “She has a way with people.”

You and Max exchange a final high-five, both of you making a pact to race again someday but next time in real cars.

“Pwomise?” You ask Max, holding out your pinky.

He nods solemnly, linking his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

As you leave the paddock, your father leans down, “I think you’ve made a friend for life there.”

You nod, clutching one of the toy cars Max let you keep. “He’s alwight. But I’m still faster.”

Kimi chuckles, lifting you into his arms. “No doubt about it.”

Until We Meet Again

“Papa,” you begin, tugging at Kimi’s leg, “why is Max packing all his cars?”

Kimi crouches down to your level. “His papa is leaving F1, so they won’t be around next season.”

You frown, not fully understanding the implications but sensing the seriousness of the situation. “But ... I want to play with Max.”

The boy in question walks over, his toy cars clutched tightly in his hand. “It’s not fair,” he says, stomping his foot with a little scowl.

Your lip starts to wobble. “Very not fair.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I’m going to miss this. And ... and I guess I’ll miss you.”

“You’re leaving? Like ... fowever?”

He nods, looking down. “Yeah. But we can still be friends, right?”

You think it over for a moment then smile, a plan forming in your mind. “We can write letters!”

Max seems to consider this. “That sounds cool. Let’s do it!”

The two of you spend the rest of the day drawing letters to each other seated on the rough tarmac, complete with scribbles and doodles. The content might be indecipherable to any adult but to you and Max, they’re precious messages.

As the final race of the season ends, and it’s time for Max and Jos to leave, you give Max a tight hug, your small arms wrapping around him. “Don’t forget, okay? Letters!”

He hugs you back. “I promise.”

You watch as they walk away, Max turning back every few steps to wave. Kimi, sensing your sadness, lifts you into his arms. “You okay?”

You nod, clutching the red toy car — Max’s favorite — that he gave you as a parting gift. “I’ll miss him, Papa.”

Your father presses a kiss to your forehead. “I know. But hey, you have a pen pal now.”

You giggle, the idea bringing some comfort. “Yeah. And when we’re older, we’ll race together!”

Kimi chuckles, “No doubt about it.”

Reunited and It Feels So Good

“Who’s that guy over there?” You ask, pointing to a young driver in a Toro Rosso race suit chatting with his team.

Your father squints in the direction you’re pointing and smirks. “That’s Max Verstappen.”

You blink in surprise, studying the taller figure with a more chiseled face. “Max? As in my Max?”

Kimi nods, eyes crinkling in amusement. “One and the same.”

“He’s … changed. I mean, he kind of looks like Sid the Sloth from that Ice Age movie.”

Your father chokes on his drink. “You always did have a way with words.”

Without any hesitation, you start walking over to Max, Kimi trailing behind. As you approach, Max looks up and for a moment, there’s no recognition in his eyes. But then something clicks.

“Is that ...” His eyes get even wider.

You smirk and cross your arms. “Last time I checked, Sid the Sloth wasn’t a Formula 1 driver.”

Max bursts out laughing, the sound echoing around the garage. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

You raise an eyebrow, “Can’t say the same for you. You used to be so cute. What happened?”

He grins, a hint of the mischievous boy you used to play with still shining through. “It’s good to see you again. Been too long.”

Your father walks up, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “She’s just here to make sure I don’t slack off.”

Max chuckles and shoots a wink, “Knowing you, I’m sure she has her work cut out for her.”

You nod sagely, “Full-time job, really.”

As the day winds down after free practice, Max finds you outside the Ferrari motorhome. “We should hang out more. Catch up properly.”

You tap your chin exaggeratingly, “Hmm ... I guess I could spare some time for an old friend.”

Max nudges you playfully, “It’s like Kimi copy and pasted his personality to make you.”

“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

With a promise to meet up soon, the two of you part ways but not before your father adds, “Stay out of trouble, you two.”

You and Max exchange amused looks. “No promises.”

A Nudge in the Right Direction

“Remind why exactly we are watching an F2 race again?” Christian Horner asks, adjusting his sunglasses as he tries to blend into the crowd.

Max grins sheepishly, “Just thought it would be fun to watch some up-and-coming talent, you know? Besides, there’s someone racing today you might find ... interesting.”

Franz Tost, who has also been “accidentally” dragged along, narrows his eyes, “This isn’t one of your schemes, is it?”

Max looks offended, “Me? Scheme? Never.”

Christian chuckles, “Alright, Max. Who are we looking at?”

Max points to a car getting ready on the front row. “That one. Trust me.”

As the feature race begins, it’s clear who Max is talking about. Your driving style stands out with precision, aggression, and an undeniable talent reminiscent of a certain Finn of few words.

“Hmm,” Christian murmurs, watching intently as you expertly navigate the track. “Who is that?”

Max smirks, “Someone who’s used to the world of F1, thanks to her father.”

Franz raises an eyebrow, “Kimi’s daughter?”

Max nods, “Impressive, right?”

The two team principals watch with sharp eyes as you overtake competitors with ease and display skills beyond your years. It’s clear you’re a natural.

As the checkered flag waves and you cross the finish line in P1, Max turns to Christian and Franz with anticipation. “What do you think?”

“She’s certainly got the talent.”

“And the lineage. Räikkönen skill is clearly in her DNA.”

Max smiles widely, “So ... Red Bull or AlphaTauri?”

Christian chuckles, “You’re quite the talent scout.”

Franz sighs, shaking his head but smiling, “We’ll have to discuss it of course. But I think either team would be lucky to have her.”

“I just have one question,” Christian interjects. “How is she not part of a development program already?”

Max shrugs, “Kimi didn’t want her to limit her options and have to wait around to break into Formula 1 by binding herself to a team that might not have any seats open for a while. Just thought you guys should see her in action.”

Christian pats Max on the back, “Good call. We’ll be in touch.”

As they walk away, Max sends a thumbs-up in your direction. You, still high on adrenaline and not yet aware of the high-profile spectators, simply return the gesture, wondering what the mischievous grin on Max’s face is all about and whether it should worry you.

I’m Coming Up

“Guess what?” You blurt out as soon as Max picks up the phone.

“You ate my hidden stash of stroopwafels?”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “No, although that sounds tempting. I just signed with Red Bull to race for AlphaTauri next season!”

There’s a moment of silence before Max erupts, “I knew it! That is brilliant!”

Your smile widens at his enthusiasm. “Thanks. Thought you’d like to know.”

Max snickers, “You’ll be driving for Red Bull in no time, watch.”

You laugh through the speaker, “Oh? Ready for some actual competition?”

The seriousness with which he responds makes you pause for a second, “Absolutely. I’ve been bored without you to race against.”

“Careful what you wish for.”

He feigns offense, “You think I can’t handle the heat?”

“I’m just saying,” you tease, “that once I’m there, you better get used to the sight of my rear wing.”

Max laughs again, “I’ve missed your comebacks.”

“And I’ve missed using them against you,” you shoot back.

“Seriously though, congrats. I’m so excited to see where this takes you.”

You nibble your lip, “Thanks, Maxie. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Just don’t forget us little people when you’re taking F1 by storm, okay?”

You snort, “Little people? Last I checked, you’re taller than me. And probably the best driver of his generation.”

“Probably?”

“Well,” you draw out, “Charles Leclerc exists …”

“Y/N …” Max whines.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not like he’ll do much damage to you if Ferrari keeps up this pattern.”

You can almost hear Max’s pout through the phone. “Fine.”

“But,” you grin, “that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“May the best driver win. Just promise not to leave me in the dust.”

You laugh, “No promises.”

Easy Choices

“All right, drivers, ready for some quick-fire questions?” The Red Bull social media coordinator asks, camera poised.

Max nods, “Born ready.”

You tighten your ponytail, “Let’s do this.”

Sergio and Pierre exchange amused glances, clearly anticipating the shenanigans ahead.

“First question,” the coordinator starts, “Which driver would you want to be stuck on a deserted island with?”

Without hesitation, you and Max respond in unison.

“Max.”

“Y/N.”

“Always so predictable,” Pierre laughs.

Sergio grins, “Afraid of a little competition?”

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “From you? Not particularly.”

The group erupts in laughter and Max adds, “It’s just logic. We’ve known each other the longest.”

The coordinator smiles, clearly enjoying the banter, “Okay, okay, next question. Who is most likely to get lost in a new city?”

Again, without missing a beat, both you and Max point to each other.

Sergio chuckles, “Clearly, there’s a pattern here.”

Pierre nods in mock seriousness, “And if you two ever do get stranded on that island, please send us a postcard.”

You laugh, “Deal.”

“Last question,” the coordinator announces, “Which driver do you think has the best taste in music?”

“Definitely not Max,” you shake your head.

“Excuse me? My playlist is legendary!”

Pierre chimes in, “If by legendary you mean questionable ...”

Sergio retorts, “At least it’s better than your love for French pop.”

“It’s cultured!”

As the session wraps up, the coordinator grins, “You two are a match made in racing heaven.”

You and Max laugh but both of you can’t help the way your cheeks warm at the comment or how you avoid meeting each other’s eyes on the way out of the studio.

The social media coordinator must spend so much time online that fans’ ships are getting to her too.

That’s clearly the only reason she would say that.

Nothing else.

Nope.

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @ilovedreming @jamie2305 @reidsworld @notyouraveragemochii @faithm120601 @idkiwantchocolatee @cha-hot @formulaonemad3 @eugene-emt-roe @champomiel @topguncultleader @gods-menace @razielchrysanderoctavius @sainzluvrr @kimmchijjajang @imagandom @roseseraj @minkyungseokie @daniellarogers @that-aesthetic-chic @elijahslover @coffeewhore18 @glitterf1 @a-mixers-serenity @itsjustkhaos @leilanixx @scoobdoobdoob @lillianacristina @keii134 @olliesoakberry @ruleroftheuniverse @mellowarcadefun

[junkissed]

amateur hour

member — camboy!jun x f reader genre — smut, f2l, idiots to lovers, fluffy ending word count — 8.6k synopsis — the most awkward encounter of your life might just end up being the best thing you and your best friend have ever done together. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, masturbation (jun), voyeurism & exhibitionism (watching porn together), jun is a big time simp but in a soft way, please lmk if i missed any! notes — huge thanks to @onlymingyus and @highvern for reading this for me to make sure i wasn't insane, and thanks to @cheolism and @duhnova for help with the title <3 this is my longest fic in a while and it took so much energy to finish but i hope yall enjoy! please reblog or send an ask and lmk if you enjoyed this! :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

"hello? anybody home?"

jun squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back with a stifled moan as he cums all over his hand. his grip on his cock tightens, milking every last drop out across his abs as he fights to keep himself quiet.

fuck, he forgot. forgot he'd told you to come over tonight. forgot he'd promised a movie night to cheer you up after your latest dating disaster. he feels like the worst friend on the planet right now, for so many reasons.

the main reason? the fact that he's just finished cumming at the thought of you… and also the fact that he's been streaming the whole thing to thousands of people.

out of breath, he presses a couple keys before slamming his laptop shut. no goodbye to his viewers, no thanking the people who donated. but they're used to his unconventional streams, often barely acknowledging their existence or even not talking at all. not because he cares deeply about staying anonymous, but because he's just so… average.

maybe that's why he's so popular: he's just a regular guy jerking off. people like that amateur stuff. no elaborate productions, no fancy camera work, just a guy with a laptop and a really pretty cock (or so he's been told). he could be anyone: your classmate, your neighbor, the cute guy from the library. he might even be your best friend.

"in here— changing!" he calls through his closed door, rushing as fast as he can to clean himself up and put clothes on. he's mentally praising himself for remembering to make his bed this morning, and after wiping a suspicious looking stain off his desk and fixing his chair, his room looks halfway decent.

he tosses open his bedroom door to greet you, throwing a smile onto his face. he doesn't want you to feel like you're intruding—he loves it when you come over, he wouldn't have given you his house key if he didn't want you to—even though at this exact moment, you very much are intruding. even though he invited you over in the first place. fuck, he's such an idiot.

when jun hadn't answered any of your texts before you let yourself in his apartment, you'd figured he'd forgotten about tonight. you'd hoped tonight would be an exception, but it's not out of the ordinary for him to be forgetful. any other day you wouldn't have minded, even teased him about it, but not tonight. especially since he invited you over in the first place.

but all of your worries are suddenly pushed to the backseat when he comes out of his room looking… well, hot.

like, literally hot. he's sweating, his hair disheveled and his pupils huge as he pushes his shirt sleeves up his arms.

it takes a second for you to take it all in— obviously he'd forgotten about his promise and had started a workout instead. you can't say you haven't noticed lately how often he's started working out, his biceps bulking up and his chest peeking out through his shirts. you'd wondered when he's been finding the time to go to the gym, his excuse for years being that he's too busy or too lazy to leave the house, but it seems like he's been working out at home too now.

you stand awkwardly in the space between his living room and the door, watching the beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “if now's a bad time, i can— leave…”

"no!" he rushes to say, and you pause at his sudden outburst. "no. just... let me take a shower real quick. i'm so sorry, i lost track of time." he runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down while you try not to stare.

"sure," you say after a long moment. his eyes pause to travel over your face with an expression you can't read, but maybe you just imagined that because seconds later he's back to his cheery, usual self telling you to make yourself cozy on his bed and start looking for a movie while he's in the shower.

standing under the cold water, he promises to himself that he's going to get everything right tonight, despite the rocky start. he's gonna bring out the snacks and put on the movie and make you happy again. because that's what he always does, and he may not be the most perfect person in the world but he tries to be for you.

he's been there for every new boyfriend you tell him about that he already knows won't end well, and he's been there when it inevitably doesn't end well. he's been there without a single complaint for every drunk saturday night and every hungover sunday morning. and he's not going to complain this time either, no matter his feelings for you and how badly he wishes you would just date him instead. maybe he's a little biased, but he thinks he'd make a great boyfriend.

you sit at the edge of his bed wringing your hands until you hear the shower start to run, finally letting out a deep exhale and starting to relax with a moment to yourself. 

he’ll take his shower, and it’ll be like a reset button for the evening; he’ll come out nice and clean like nothing ever happened, and you’ll snuggle up and watch a funny movie and maybe get a little drunk and forget all your troubles for the weekend. a clean slate, as if you hadn’t had to use every ounce of self control you’ve got in order to avoid ogling him and the way his sweat drenched shirt clung to his torso. 

you’ll have such a fantastic time with the movie, you won’t even have time to stop and think about the fact that he probably works out shirtless. no, you definitely aren’t thinking about how you’ve never seen any gym equipment around his house so he must be doing like a crazy amount of pushups or something to get that ripped without any kind of exercise machine. the fact that these are not the kind of thoughts you should be thinking about your best friend is entirely irrelevant.

content with your plan to avoid thinking for the rest of the evening, you stand up from his bed and move to stand at his desk, opening his laptop to find something to watch.

and oh, you find something to watch, alright.

staring back at you on his screen is a porn site, paused on a video of a man laid naked across a worn out looking chair, legs spread wide with his cock tightly in his fist.

oddly enough, your first thought is that the scene looks… hot. the top of the video cuts off at the neck, hiding his face from the camera but leaving his prominent adam's apple exposed. it’s very obviously amateur, but even from just the single frame shown, you get the sense that there’s a certain charm to it. and quite honestly, it’s working for you.

apparently, it works for a lot of other people, too. the video has hundreds of thousands of views, and below it are suggested videos from the same man that boast similar numbers.

jun never struck you as the type of guy to watch solo male videos, but you aren't here to judge his preferences. hell, you've seen way worse yourself. there must be something he likes about it, though, and you’re half tempted to press play on the video to find out if the rest of it is as good as the preview seems to be.

you're about to close the tab and never speak of it again, but something else catches your eye and you pause, finger hovering over the mousepad. something about the guy in the video feels… familiar, somehow.

looking closer you see there's a little mole on his tummy, right by his hip, that reminds you of the one jun has. you've seen him without his shirt on enough times to recognize it—not like you've been staring or anything. just something you've noticed. 

but then your stomach flips, and you realize what's actually familiar about the guy in the video. tied around his wrist is a thin red string, a friendship bracelet you made when you first met him and accidentally tied it too tight so he couldn't take it off that he's worn ever since.

there's no way that's a coincidence.

and then everything else starts to fall into place: the posters in the background of the video. the old desk chair you’ve sat in so many times that you’ll never be able to see the same way again. too many pieces fitting easily together like a puzzle.

but by the time you've had long enough to process all this information, the shower has stopped and out walks jun wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. your eyes drag away from the sight of his wet, naked chest and instantly fix on the bracelet tied around his wrist, unable to stop staring at it.

you distantly hear him call your name, and your gaze snaps back up at him with wide, guilty eyes, caught like a deer in headlights.

he opens a drawer and starts tugging a t-shirt on over his head, turning around to look at you. “did you find something to watc— oh.”

you follow his gaze towards his open laptop, the video sitting proudly on display in the tab you forgot to close.

you both stare at the paused video for a very long moment, the silence stretching on before all the words that were stuck in your throat suddenly come tumbling out all at once.

“i wasn’t— it was just open… i didn’t—”

he stands there in silence, and you stand there in silence, and the evidence sits on the desk between you like a wall that makes you feel intensely exposed, even though he’s the one who’s sitting naked on the open screen.

your first instinct (after panic, of course) is to slink home and hide yourself in your room and try to erase the image of your best friend’s dick from your memory. you’ve never thought they looked very attractive before, but his is weirdly beautiful to look at, and you’re not willing to explore that train of thought. also, way bigger than you were expecting, but it’s not like you thought about it often enough to guess how big he is or anything. 

“maybe i should go home and we should just forget about tonight,” you rush to add when he still doesn’t say anything after a lengthy pause. 

jun’s face falls, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt for trying to run. “you don't have to go,” he says quickly. “it’s not— um, nothing weird about it, right? i’m sorry, i should have closed it, or…” he pauses, stumbling over his words almost as badly as you are. “i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. i promise my sheets—and everything in my room—is clean.” he tries an awkward smile, and it makes you feel really bad about making him feel bad.

“it's not weird at all. it's totally normal. i was just… surprised,” you try to smile back, but it doesn't work as well on you as it does on him. “just a shock, i guess. trying to process it. but it's fine. i promise.”

“i won't make it weird,” he says. “you don't have to watch it or anything.” he kind of wants you to.

“i wasn't thinking about it.” you definitely were.

there's another uncomfortably long silence. “so anyway, did you pick out a movie?” he asks at the same time you ask him a question, both trying to keep the conversation going, but you realize you should've kept your mouth shut and let him take the lead because he is way more capable of being normal about this than you are.

“what do you think about when you do it?” you blurt out, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because you've realized just how invasive of a question that is and you're kind of hoping he didn't hear you, but he definitely did because he's sitting at the edge of his bed with a shocked look on his face, because out of all the things he was expecting you to say it definitely wasn't that.

“don't answer that. i don't know why i said that,” you follow up immediately, trying to mitigate the damage but it's too late.

his eyebrows are scrunched up in thought. “no, i don't care. i—um… i just don't know how to answer that without making it weird.”

“you don't have to,” you say quickly.

he turns to you, but you pointedly look away. “do you actually want to know?” 

you look down at your hands, doing everything to avoid his eyes. “kinda.” yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

he laughs a little, and miraculously somehow it manages to lighten the tension, hearing that familiar sound. “you seem, like, really uncomfortable. we can just… pretend it never happened.”

“it's gonna be hard to do that. it's not every day you find out your best friend is a porn star,” you say finally. you force yourself to lift your head, at least in his general direction since you can't meet his eyes. you settle on looking at his mouth instead, but that was definitely a mistake because now you're staring at his lips and noticing for the first time how pretty they are and how soft they look and now you're wondering what it would feel like to kiss those lips and to—

“it's not really like being a porn star… well, kind of, it is. but like, not really, because—” he cuts himself off when he notices you staring. “sorry, i'll drop it. we don’t have to get into it.”

“no, i'm curious now,” you say. somehow you find the will to lift your head, finally meeting his eyes. “tell me how you do it.”

he stares blankly. “like how i jerk off, or… oh, you meant how the videos work,” he laughs as it clicks into place in his mind. obviously you wouldn't mean it like that—as much as he wishes you did.

you didn’t realize it until now but the uncomfortable, awkward tension at the initial shock of finding out that your best friend has a mildly successful porn career, has slowly been melting away into a different kind of tension. maybe it’s the adrenaline, the fight or flight instinct, or something else entirely, but it’s succeeded in making you bolder than you should be. everything in you should be telling you no, drop it, don’t invade his privacy, but all you can think is yes, please, tell me everything.

“is that what you were doing earlier? when i got here?”

he tilts his head imperceptibly at your question, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tries to gauge your reactions. there’s something in the air and it’s beginning to affect him too. “i feel like you’ve already guessed the answer to that.”

you can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips at his words, gaining confidence with each passing second. “i told you, i’m curious.”

“fine.” he cocks an eyebrow at you. “yeah, i was. what else do you wanna know?”

“you never answered my question earlier.”

“what do i think about?” he repeats, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks. “trade secret. i can’t tell you.”

clearly you aren’t satisfied with his answer, so he sighs and looks over at you. strands of wet hair from his shower rest across his forehead, and you can’t help but be reminded of how he looked when you’d first walked in, sweaty bangs sticking to his face in a similar fashion. 

“it’s not any different than when i do it off camera. same thoughts.” his eyes trail down your body briefly before snapping back up to your face. “most of the time i don’t even remember i’m being filmed. just feels like a normal afternoon to me.”

when he meets your eyes again they almost seem to sparkle with a mischievousness he hasn’t seen from you in a long, long time. “so this is a normal afternoon for you, then? letting people watch you jerk off?” the words are more vulgar than he’s ever heard from you, but they taste good and satisfying on your tongue.

if even a quarter of jun’s brain was functioning normally right now, he might have the good sense to refuse to answer your questions. his side job was never supposed to be found out by friends or family, not because he’s embarrassed about what he does, but because he likes having that space to experiment with himself. it’s true he can try out fetishes and kinks he would’ve never known about before, yes, but more important to him is the fact that he can do whatever he wants, be whoever he wants to be, act however he wants to act.

yet he instantly buckles the second you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at him without so much as a second thought. for as long as he’s known you he’s always had the urge to tell you everything, to talk for hours and hours about anything on his mind. he’s never felt like he needs to hide anything from you; even with this, his darkest secret, he’s an open book. willing and far too eager to answer anything you ask him.

a small, distant part of him has sort of always wanted you to find out about his alter ego, to question him exactly as you’re doing now. the thought of his secret becoming your secret, too. 

“i guess so, yeah.” he grins and glances over at his laptop still sitting open, the image of himself paused on the screen.

you follow his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the video and trying not to find the similarities between the two. “you ever do anything… together? or just solo?”

only after you’ve said it do you realize how that question sounded coming out, and yet again you wish you could take back your words. it wasn’t meant to be an offer—though deep down you really wouldn’t mind that at all—but despite the numerous boundaries you’ve already overstepped tonight, you don’t think that’s a line you’re willing to cross just yet. 

being aware of your best friend’s homemade porn and even watching it is one thing, but actually fucking him is completely different. and no matter how bad your feelings are for him, it still feels off limits. unless he suddenly decides to grab you by the neck and tell you he wants you to ride him until your legs give out (which you’d gladly do, for the record), you’re just going to have to keep those desires to yourself. 

the implications of your question hang unanswered in the air, and you stumble to explain yourself before he has the chance to outright reject you. “that's not what i mean—not like that. i wasn’t… nevermind.” you cut yourself off, hoping you haven’t managed to dig yourself a deeper hole.

the corner of his mouth upturns in a smile that you find infuriatingly hot. “you weren’t what? and no, i haven’t. never had anybody i liked enough to try it with.” he gets shy again, glancing away from you and staring at his desk chair absently. “i haven’t told anyone about it, so it’s not like i have many options even if i wanted to.”

your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and that guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach from seeing something you shouldn’t have returns. you’re the only person who knows? and you only saw it on accident, so clearly he didn’t mean for anyone to ever find out. fuck, all of this was a mistake and maybe you really should pretend like nothing ever happened.

“i’m sure the people who watch you would be lining up at your door to fuck you if you asked.”

“not interested.” he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze lingering on your body again for a moment too long, and for some reason that sparks something within you.

you clear your throat and it grabs his attention, looking up at you in curiosity. “well, anyway. i’ve thought of something for us to watch.”

he perks up a little, and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do because he seems so excited at the prospect of watching an actual movie. but you’ve endured more than enough of your fair share of his teasing over the years, and part of you is still curious to finally see him in action, so you grab his laptop and sit yourself down on his bed.

he walks closer to you to see what you’ve picked out for the evening, only to find you’ve put his own video on fullscreen, nonchalantly propping his computer up on your lap to watch as if his dick isn’t sitting in front of your very eyes in 4k high definition.

his cheeks turn even redder than they already were as he freezes in place, his eyes fixed on the image of his own cock in hand and toned body on display, waiting for you to press play.

“you coming?” you pat the bed next to you expectantly, smiling such an innocent little smile as if you’re unaware of what you’re doing, though both of you already know exactly what’s going to happen. and it’s driving him up the fucking wall. 

he’s so flustered that he doesn’t even laugh at your pun, still standing at the foot of his bed and trying to summon every last shred of his dignity to stop himself from getting hard for the second time tonight. just the thought of you wanting to watch him, showing interest in the videos of him pleasuring himself has all the blood in his body rushing towards his cock, and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep pretending he’s fine with this.

“i’ve never watched them after filming them. i was there the first time… never felt like i needed to revisit it.” he doesn’t mention the real reason he doesn’t watch them is because he’s afraid to see what he looks like when he’s thinking about you— afraid to see how his body reacts in ways that it definitely shouldn’t be without your knowledge.

you bite your lip absentmindedly, looking up at him with an inviting expression. “first time for everything, right?” despite the confidence you’ve gained your voice still ends up coming out soft and shy, as if you’re afraid to admit how badly you want to see how this plays out.

jun’s face flushes as he tries to ignore the way his pants continue to grow tighter. “you wanna watch me? i mean— the video? together?” he’s honored… no, he’s more than honored. thousands of people watch his videos daily, yet the only one he cares about is sitting on his bed and smiling that pretty smile of yours at him.

he rests his palms on the edge of his bed frame, and you can’t help the way your eyes rake over his body in reaction. he’s tall and always has been, towering over you as long as you’ve known him, but he never seems to be aware of just how big he is. or maybe he is and just knows how to use it to his advantage. either way, you can’t hide the shiver running down your spine as he leans over the bed towards you.

he can feel his body tingling with anticipation as he takes a seat down anxiously beside you, your fingers hovering over the mousepad before you finally unpause the video. no going back now.

at first you think the sound isn’t working as you watch him adjust his position on the chair in silence, but when you hear the seat squeak you realize he’s just quiet. your palms are clammy as you keep your hands planted at your sides, waiting for the action to start. just the image of him naked is enough to send you into a spiral, but you force yourself to be patient, knowing there’s better things to come.

you try not to stare at him next to you, but it’s impossible with the way he keeps nonchalantly adjusting his sweats every few seconds. you can tell he’s trying not to let on how hard he is, but unfortunately for him you're way too hyper aware of yourself in this moment and nothing goes unnoticed.

your gaze stays glued to the screen as you watch the recording of jun leaning back in his chair, tentatively taking his cock into his hand with a soft sigh. you don’t notice that you’ve been holding your breath until he starts moving his hand up and down along his length, letting out a shaky sigh that matches the ones from his recording. your cheeks are burning but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring as he brushes his thumb across his leaking tip, smearing his precum around with his fingers.

the muscles in his thighs tense and he lets out a little whine, and it sends a shiver throughout your whole body. you can’t see his face on the video, but you’ve seen his expressions enough to get the picture, and it drives you wild. you need to see it close up, need to see those faces he makes and confirm the way you’ve imagined it.

but even with his beautiful, painfully hard cock right in front of you, you still can’t take your eyes off of the friendship bracelet tied around his wrist, watching as it brushes against his cock with every stroke of his fist. you wonder how long he’s been doing this, how long and you’d never realized. he’d never seemed like the type, but then again, you were learning a lot of things about your friend tonight.

you manage to pry your eyes away from the video but your gaze just ends up back on instead, sitting beside you with the same thin bracelet adorning his slender wrist. you squeeze your thighs together as you stare at it, willing yourself not to think about it, but when another broken and muffled moan comes out of the laptop speaker you can’t take it anymore.

you suddenly stop the video, pushing his computer off your lap and closing the screen. he jumps and looks at you, eyes wide with concern. you'd hated it, didn't you? you thought he was a loser and this was all such a bad idea and he should've pretended it never happened in the first place because now your friendship is ruined and—

"show me."

jun swears he stops breathing for a second. he must not have heard you clearly, but when he pulls his gaze up to meet yours he finds you staring back expectantly, a hint of a smile on your face and a look in your eyes that makes him want to pounce on you and never look back.

"what?" his voice comes out cracked. god, if you're saying what he thinks you are… he's never been this hard in his entire life, including all the times he's edged himself to the thought of you. there's no way in hell he isn't hallucinating right now, because the expression on your face is straight out of his dreams.

your wandering eyes flit down to his bulge. "i thought you said you did live shows."

your heart is pounding, fearing you've finally crossed that last forbidden line for good. who knows when you got so bold, but you couldn't handle watching another second of that video without doing something about it. despite his shyness you know he's enjoying this, with the way he keeps tugging at the hem of his shirt and struggling to hide his painfully obvious boner. it's not like you're doing any better yourself, and you wonder if he can feel the heat radiating off your body right now or if he's noticed the way you can't stop squirming.

you hadn't expected that hearing his breathy whimpers through the laptop's tinny speakers and watching his abs flex on the screen as he squeezes his hand around his cock would have such an effect on you, but it's hard not to when the star of the movie is sitting right beside you. you're afraid to even move, at risk of revealing the wet spot beneath you seeping into his sheets that he was so adamant earlier about being clean. well, you know one thing for sure— they won't be clean after tonight.

so, you clear your throat and choose your next words carefully this time, knowing exactly what you're asking for and hoping, praying it'll be reciprocated. "why would i wanna watch a video when i can see it in person?"

"fuck—" his voice is strained, and your stomach flips at the sudden low tone coming from his throat that you aren't used to hearing. "you want—”

"i wanna see you," you cut him off, jumping on the chance that he didn't immediately shut you down. you look pointedly at the bulge in his pants, making sure he sees you looking. "do you ever do private shows?" you feel the heat in your cheeks burning with shyness, but you press on, your voice soft. "you know… one on one?”

“no— yeah,” he says hurriedly. “i mean, i can now. for you. if you want.” he adds the last part like an afterthought, because even though you just straight out asked to watch him jerk off, he still can’t comprehend that you’re into this. that you, his best friend of all people, is this eager to see him.

your reply comes out choked with desperation, but he’s so lost in your reactions that you doubt he even notices the change in your tone. “please?”

with dazed eyes he nods, moving his hands down to the waistband of his pants, and it feels like time moves in slow motion as you strain your eyes for a glimpse.

your breath catches in your throat as you watch him push his sweatpants down just below his hips, freeing his cock. the thick veins on his hands that you're used to ogling in your free time are nothing compared to the veins that cover his length, and they’re nothing compared to the grainy video from his computer, either.  you're so tempted to touch him, you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching over and wrapping your hand around him, to feel its weight in your palm and feel how hard he is.

he soaks up your reaction, his pride soaring at the way your mouth is practically watering for him. he makes sure you're watching, then pushes his sweatpants all the way off and leans back against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs to get a more comfortable position before he starts.

“you gonna answer my question now?” you ask, your voice soft yet still teasing as he begins to drag his hand up and down his shaft slowly, pumping himself to full hardness as if he hadn't already been fully hard for the last hour.

the look in his eyes when he glances back up at you makes your heart jump, and suddenly the answer seems as clear as day. but you’re afraid to believe in it in case you’re still wrong about everything; even now as you kneel beside him on his bed, his eyes boring into yours as you watch him fist his cock, you can’t let yourself have hope that he feels the same about you. there’s been nothing to suggest that he does, besides the fact that he didn’t immediately throw you out of his house the second you found out about his alternative career.

he doesn’t answer for a long moment, and you feel your entire body growing hot under his gaze. for the second time tonight you feel stripped bare, despite the fact that you’re fully clothed and he’s the one half naked in front of you.

“are you sure you wanna hear the answer?” he says finally, and despite the way his voice comes out choked you can tell he’s just as nervous about this as you are. years of friendship changed by just one sentence, but whether it’ll be for better or for worse, you haven’t figured out yet.

you’re not sure if you really do, but you nod anyway, searching his eyes for any signs of hesitation. he groans softly, bucking his hips up a little into his fist as he opens his mouth to speak. you scoot closer to hear him, drawn to him like a magnet and your heart pounding as you wait for the words you so badly want to hear.

“right now?” he pauses. “i’m thinking about how bad i wanna kiss you.”

and after that it’s like a dam breaking apart, losing every bit of self control you’d worked so hard to maintain for so long as you press forward and meet his lips. his hands jump to your hips, instantly forgetting what he was doing as he gently tugs you onto his lap to get a better angle. 

you slide your legs beneath you, straddling his lap with your knees on either side of his waist as your mouth slides against his. kissing him comes as naturally to you as breathing, almost immediately finding a rhythm with his nose pressed against your cheek.

he starts out slow, tentative, but as soon as you kiss him back he’s throwing his own self control to the wind and pulling you deeper into him. you can feel his aching cock pressing into your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to grind down on him and ease the throbbing between your legs.

you finally force yourself to pull away, taking in the sight of him. his cheeks are flushed and he’s panting, eyes darting back and forth between yours in questioning at your sudden pause. “is— is that all you think about?” you ask, but it comes out more like a whimper. if it were anyone else you’d be mortified at how worked up you’ve gotten in such a short time, but if anything jun looks worse than you do right now.

“i think about you every fucking time,” he admits breathlessly. as always, giving up his so-called trade secrets the second you ask, because he can’t hide anything. doesn’t want to hide anything from you. “can’t stop thinking about you, even when i try not to—”

“during your streams?”

“—especially during my streams.”

you push your hips down gently, feeling your soaked panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds at the movement, but it’s all worth it for the angelic moans that fall from his lips in return. “and earlier…?” you pry. you don’t know why you’re so full of questions tonight, but a part of you relishes in his praise and the way he so readily admits his thoughts to you.

he stifles another groan, his hands trailing haphazardly over your body like a kid in a candy store, as if he isn’t sure what to touch first but he does know that he wants to touch all of you. “earlier— got so hard thinking about you coming over, i couldn’t help it…” he squeezes his eyes shut as you reach up to rest your arms around his shoulders. “so fucking lucky that you’re my friend, i don’t deserve you.”

you brush your thumb against his cheek and his eyes shoot open, his hips stuttering beneath you in surprise. “why?” you ask softly. if anyone is undeserving of your friendship, it should be you, not him; the way he treats you like a queen, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and being the best friend you’ve ever had.

“‘cause—” he swallows hard and looks up at you, his fingers shaking a little as they wander across your hips. “fuck, the way i think about you… you’d never say yes to that.”

you smile softly, leaning closer to him until your mouths are just inches apart and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. “you never asked me.” you glance up at him expectantly, nodding your head to give him a chance to say what’s on his mind.

“can i—” he curses under his breath, his mind going haywire at even just the thought of you letting him have more of you. “can i kiss you again?”

and it’s such a genuine request that you have no choice but to indulge him, your lips parting to let him in. it’s a kiss that you feel in your entire body, from the hands that have moved to your back gently guiding you towards him, to the butterflies in your chest and much lower places. you want—no, you need all of him, all at once, need his hands and his cock and his sweet, sweet kisses.

you lean back and press your mouth against his neck instead, feeling his soft skin beneath your lips as you start to suck. he groans in response when you nip at the underside of his chin, beginning to suck harder until you bite down gently and lift your eyes to see his reaction.

suddenly he wraps his hand behind your neck and pulls your head up to meet him face to face, crashing his lips back against yours in a frantic battle of tongue and teeth, filled with a newfound desperation. his eyes are closed and brows furrowed as he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head guiding you into him.

you frantically paw at his shirt, struggling to keep yourself contained. "jun, please— let me see you."

he leans forward away from you and tears his shirt off over his head without so much as a word in reply, quickly settling back and meeting your lips once again. his mind is racing a mile a minute, so eager to give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, whatever you need.

he's so caught up in pleasing you that the thought of asking you to take off your shirt in return doesn't even cross his mind; you could sit fully clothed on his lap for the rest of the night and he'd still be over the moon. but you do it anyway, just as eager to please him as he is for you. you pull your shirt off as fast as you can, whining in frustration when you tug too roughly and it gets caught in your hair for a half second. but you feel his hand slide up your back and help you, untangling it and balling the fabric in his fist, tossing it across the room before pulling you back to him.

you fall forward and catch yourself on the wall behind his head, forcing you to readjust your seat on his lap and cupping his cheeks with your hands to stabilize yourself. jun shifts his position as well, threading one arm around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. his palm on your skin makes you feel like you're on fire, his hand pressing gently but firmly against the bare skin of your hip.

you can feel his length resting between your bodies, still hard as ever and throbbing from so much stimulation yet so little of it being directed at where he wants it most. you start to rock your hips, slowly grinding against him and feeling your cunt pulse through the thin fabric of your panties, and you wonder if he can feel it, too.

if he does then he doesn’t mention it, too caught up in roaming his hands over your chest now that your shirt is out of the way. you feel shy, not used to so much attention from one person and especially not used to it coming from him. a part of you wishes you’d at least worn a prettier bra, but he doesn’t even seem to notice that it’s the old ratty one you wear around the house. in his eyes it might as well be made of solid gold, with the way he touches it so delicately and looks up at you in a frenzy, begging you to let him take it off.

his palms cup your breasts the second the fabric is on the floor, moaning unabashedly as he pushes his face into your chest. his tongue laves over your skin with his eyes closed in bliss, and he groans into your breast before he finally tears his mouth away from you, giving you both a second to breathe.

"please let me fuck you," he rasps, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he holds your body close to his. "fuck, please— god, i need you so bad. i'll take such good care of you, baby, please, just let me. i'll do whatever you want me to, please—"

you shiver at the desperation in his voice, and if he wasn't still cradling the back of your head in his palm you probably would've fallen backwards with a moan. even from the few minutes of his video that you'd managed to watch he didn't seem like much of a talker, so the way he rambles on and on begging for you feels like a breath of fresh air.

you waste no time in telling him yes, practically falling off his bed in your rush to stand up and strip the rest of your clothes off. he wraps his hand around his cock once more and begins to thrust shallowly into his fist as he watches you shimmy out of your pants, and you whimper at the sight that’s become so familiar over the past hour.

both finally naked, you start to reposition yourself on his lap, but in a split second he flips you over onto your back instead. you let out a yelp as he cages you in with his long limbs, his cock resting against your body as he hovers over you. 

“please,” he pants, his expression pleading with you just as much as his words are. you don’t even know what he’s pleading for at this point but you nod quickly anyway, moaning out his name until he silences you with another hot kiss.

he sits back on his heels, kneeling between your legs as you spread them open wider for him. he forces himself to look away from your dripping pussy long enough to position himself at your entrance. there’s so much more he wants to do, so much he wants to try with you, but after dreaming about you for so long and now you’re finally here, he’s not sure he’ll last long enough to find out. another day, he tells himself as he lines up his cock. another time, if you’ll let him.

he looks up at you, waiting for you to give him a signal or to back out if you’ve changed your mind, but you meet his eyes and bite at your lip and give him the tiniest nod.

his hands are shaking as he guides himself into you, pushing just the tip inside and looking back up at you for confirmation before continuing.

by the time he’s halfway inside of you he has to squeeze his eyes shut as hard as he can, every muscle in his body concentrating on trying not to explode at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. a million thoughts are running through his head and he can barely see straight at this point, his tunnel vision focused on you and only you. if he remembers only one thing from tonight, he wants it to be this sight right here: the image of your face scrunched up in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in a breathless moan as you clench wildly around his cock. 

your hand grips his bicep impossibly tight as you adjust to his size, your fingers gradually relaxing as he continues to push into you until he bottoms out with a high pitched whine.

it takes a second for you to adjust, but as soon as you start begging him to move his body starts running on autopilot, his hips pistoning into you with more force than he knew he had in him. he’s stopped talking by now, almost completely silent except for the occasional groan and muttered curse.

you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, pressing into his back with your heels to get him to thrust deeper until you fall apart in his arms with a cry, burying your face in his chest as your vision goes blank and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs.

he leans down over you, putting his hand between your head and the wall to stop you from being slammed into it from his thrusts as you crest into your orgasm. all you can do is hold on tightly to him, biting at his collarbone to stifle your noises as his eyes dart across your face, desperate to see how beautiful you look when you cum for him. for him, for only him, for your best friend who’s so in love with you it physically hurts.

what finally breaks him is the gentle way you reach up and hold his head with one hand, guiding him down to your lips to kiss you once more. your fingers tremble with aftershocks as you thread them into his hair, using his body to ground yourself as he fucks you into the mattress. 

his hips stutter and he barely pulls out in time to cum all over your pussy, his cock twitching as he releases onto your skin with a broken moan. there’s nothing he wants more in this world than to cum inside you, but in his desperation he didn’t think to ask ahead of time, and even his last functioning brain cell isn’t going to let that happen without your permission.

your fingers untangle themselves from his hair, sliding to his neck and down to his chest as he heaves shallow breaths. he blinks rapidly, trying to reorient himself and calm his racing heart.

“jun?”

he barely hears you calling his name, but his head tilts down to look at you before he can process it. you’re just as much of a mess as he is, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead and his cum coating your lower half, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to catch your breath.

and just like that, the fog in his mind is cleared and he’s jumping into action. he’s gonna do what he always does, what he has to do: be there for you and do everything right, even when he has no idea what’s “right” anymore because he just fucked his best friend and the love of his life and that’s not usually what best friends do, so what does that make him now? he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, but what he does care about is making sure you’re as comfortable as possible in this, probably the weirdest and most uncomfortable situation ever.

your fingers latch onto his wrist before he can get away, and he whips around with such a dumbfounded expression that you can’t help but laugh a little. “jun,” you repeat his name again, and this time it gets through to him and he pauses, eyes wide as he looks down at you.

“huh?”

“where are you going?”

“to…” he trails off, because he doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but his brain knows he has to do something. “uh, clean?”

you laugh. “god, i love you so much. just— c’mere.”

you tug on his wrist and he topples down onto you with a yelp, but you wrap your arms around him until he stops wiggling and just sits still against you.

your bodies are covered in sweat, sticking to each other as you hold him, but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in what must be years. “what are you so nervous for?” you ask him with a soft chuckle, pushing his hair out of his forehead.

“because…” he pauses again and looks up at you, worry clouding his gaze. “because you’re so perfect. and i don’t wanna mess this up.”

“you’re not going to, jun. promise.” you exhale and stroke his hair again. “if anything, i’m the one that messed things up. i shouldn’t have found out about your… you know.”

“can i say that i’m glad you did, or is that weird?” he asks with a breathy giggle.

your cheeks flush with heat, but you can’t disagree. “i’m glad too,” you admit, and the dopey grin on his face makes up for all the awkwardness ten times over.

you exhale slowly, finally feeling your body return to normal. you dread standing up—you’re not even sure if you’d be able to, after that—but for now it feels good to just lay here with jun’s head on your chest.

“so what about your channel?”

“i’ll delete it,” he rushes to say. “whatever you want me to do. i don’t care— i don’t want it anymore. all i want is you.”

you tuck a lock of hair behind his ear with a smile, feeling your cheeks glow from his praise. “well, i don’t want you to do that. all your loyal viewers will miss out on seeing you doing more than just jerking off alone.”

he raises an eyebrow at you, trying to understand if you mean what he thinks you mean. “like…?”

“like letting them watch you fuck your girlfriend?” you finish for him tentatively. even after everything tonight you still have doubts that you’ve misread his intentions, that maybe this is just a one-time thing to him and you don’t mean as much to him as he means to you.

he studies your face carefully. “is that what you are?” he asks hesitantly.

you nod slightly, the shyness from earlier suddenly rushing back in at the possibility of being rejected. “unless you didn’t want me to be.”

he shakes his head so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. “no— please. i do. so bad.”

you break out into a smile, cupping his face in your cheeks and leaning in to kiss his forehead. he hums, and the vibrations are warm against your chest . “you could’ve just asked me. like, years ago. would have avoided all the awkwardness of…”

“of you finding out i’m a porn star?”

you giggle, and he thinks it’s the most adorable sight he’s ever seen. lying naked in your arms together, making you laugh. “i thought you said you weren’t.”

he grins. “not really. but it makes me sound cooler when you say it.”

“i think you’re cool anyway, jun.”

he shifts and leans forward to capture your lips in his again, his mouth slow and tender as he kisses you this time. “i never wanna stop kissing you.”

you rub your thumbs across his cheeks, watching his fond expression that you know must be mirrored with your own. “then don’t.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @photographic-girl @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @cloecard @valentxi @aaniag @hyneyedfiz @saladgirl @crvs4vldtn @georyanisvz @sashaaahh @aaa-sia @kokoiinuts @wondipity @isabellah29 @miujunhui @naajaeminsgf @dokyeomkyeom

strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[wreckedandpolemic]

regret me - matty healy

(mdni) in which an enmity with a certain infuriating singer turns mutually beneficial. 11775 words.

warnings: oral (f and m receiving), semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, praise, degradation, switch!matty

Entering Battle of the Bands at your local had started off as a joke. Mostly. Your bassist Sabrina had pointed out the poster last time you were there for drinks, and you’d signed your name. It’d be a laugh, you’d reasoned, a good way to get into playing live shows and meet some other local bands. Plus, a hundred quid cash prize couldn’t hurt.

But that was before you met Drive Like I Do. Or, more specifically, their insufferable little twerp of a lead singer, Matty.

He meets your eyes across the bar, smirking like he likes what he sees, and, honestly, he doesn’t hurt to look at, so you lift your drink in his direction and beckon him over. “Hi,” he grins. “I’m Matty. Are you staying for the show?” You nod, but he interrupts you before you can elaborate. “We’re on last, so you might have to sit through some right shit before it gets good. Have you seen some of the names on the lineup? I mean, True Romance? I bet they just named it that ‘cause it sounds pretty. Probably haven’t even seen the film.”

You glower, and it’s obviously not the reaction he expects, his face screwing up in confusion. “That’s my band. And True Romance is one of my favourite films, not that it fucking matters.” You get up from the table, scowling at him. “And I have a name, thank you so much for asking.”

Annoyingly, Matty’s right; most of the bands on the lineup are shit. But you figure that means you’ll wipe the floor with them, having actually rehearsed and learned your own songs that aren’t covers.

You look out at the crowd, adrenaline pumping in your veins as Grace tunes her guitar. This is probably the most people you’ve ever played for, you realise with a jolt, swallowing around the lump in your throat and stepping up to the mic. “Hello, everybody! How’s everyone feeling tonight? You feelin’ good? Yeah?” The crowd cheers back at you, and you grin blissfully. “Alright, I’m not here to dick about, I’m here to play some fuckin’ songs! We’re True Romance and this is Dream Girl.”

You throw yourself into the set, your hair sticking to your forehead as you sweat under the lights. Your gaze keeps wandering to Matty, sat in a booth with who you assume are his bandmates, nodding along and watching you with intrigue. He quirks an eyebrow at you and you tear your eyes away, grateful for the heat that hides the flush in your cheeks. The crowd is practically frenetic, cheering wildly as the final note whines out of the speakers, and you join hands with your bandmates and bow.

You blow a kiss to the audience and step off stage, passing Matty as he and his band take their positions. Checking the lineup, you scoff when you read the name of the band playing directly after you. Drive Like I Do? And he had the audacity to call your band’s name shit? But you quickly realise they could have the longest, most nonsensical name in the world, and it wouldn’t matter; they’re really fucking good. Matty looks like he was born for the stage, soaking up the crowd’s attention and magnifying their energy tenfold. It doesn’t even matter what they’re singing about (as far as you can tell, a video game) — every girl in the bar is screaming her head off, giggling to her friends when one of the boys so much as looks at her.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little smug that Matty won’t stop looking at you. You’re not blind, after all. Doesn’t make him not a cocky little prick. He comes straight over to you when his set finishes and you roll your eyes. “What, are you expecting me to fall at your feet ‘cause you can hit a few notes behind a mic stand?” you scoff, and he laughs.

“Oh, come on, love. No need for the only two good bands in here to be fighting. Promise I’ll buy you a drink after I win.” You scowl. “Oh, and she’s even prettier when she’s angry. Was it something I said?” he smirks.

“Fuck off and die,” you say with a saccharine smile.

Sabrina slides into the seat Matty just vacated. “He’s into you,” she says, passing you your pint with a slight wrinkle of her nose. You give her a look, and she scoffs, the pair of you so attuned to each other by now that you can communicate without words. “Oh, don’t be all you about it. He’s hot,” she laughs. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Be my guest. He’s a dick.”

She snorts into her Sex on the Beach. “The way he’s eye-fucking you? Tenner says he goes home alone tonight.” She leans in, smirking conspiratorially. “Or with you.”

You roll your eyes. Betting on a stranger’s sex life is… strangely on brand, for the two of you. “I’ll take that bet. Look at the state of him.” You wave a hand in his general direction, a pint glass in one hand and some girl’s ass in the other, her skirt hiked inappropriately high in plain view. She’s pouting, though, his attention clearly not on her even as he paws at her ass, gaze locked on you instead.

Sticking your middle finger up, you turn resolutely away as the other two members of your band wander up to the table. You lose yourself in the conversation, still wild with adrenaline from playing a proper show, and for a moment you forget why you were playing in the first place. When you’re announced as the second place holders, though, you remember, scowling openly because you know there’s only one band who could possibly be winning.

Matty extricates himself from the girls clinging onto him as the cheers start to die down and strolls over, setting a drink in front of you. “Here. Told you I’d get you a drink when I won,” he smirks, and you accept it grudgingly. Look, you’re not about to turn down a free drink, alright? “Don’t sulk, love. We…” He waves a hand, indicating both your band and his. “Collectively, wiped the floor with every other fuckin’ person in here. C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. Let me get you drunk, you won’t pay a penny, I swear.”

And as much as you want to punch his smug little face in, pour your drink over his vintage band tee, one you recognise as being horribly expensive, you’re tempted by the offer of getting smashed on Matty’s tab. Plus, Grace is giving Drive Like I Do’s bassist the eyes, so she’ll be fucking off over there either way.

So you take him up on it, downing vodka cokes until you can barely see straight, screaming in Matty’s face that Blur is obviously better than Oasis, come on! You don’t know how it happens, but you find yourself dancing with them and not hating it? Spinning breathlessly between Ross and George (who are actually pretty sound, in all honesty), you grab Grace and Sabrina by the hands and let them pull Alice, your drummer, into a circle, kicking your legs and laughing wildly.

Lost in sticky floors, thumping bass and a spirit-fuelled haze, you don’t push Matty away when his hands find your hips. You grind your hips back against him, let him press damp kisses to your neck, licking the sweat off your skin. A shudder runs down your spine, faint threads of desire creeping under your skin. “Stopped bein’ a sore loser yet?” he taunts, and your good mood vanishes like a snuffed-out candle.

You turn, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning in close. Matty’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips distractingly, the skin plush and soft. You have a sudden craving to bite down on the skin there, feel it tear beneath your teeth, taste blood in your mouth. You want him, and you want him wrecked. “You,” you say, low voice carrying all the intimacy of a kiss. “Are the most self-absorbed, insufferable piece of shit I’ve ever met. Bathroom. Five minutes.” Matty’s face splits in a wicked grin, leaning so close he could kiss you. You stay like that for a moment, sharing oxygen, the feeling of breathing him in intoxicating, like you’re drunk all over again.

The sticky air of the pub feels impossibly cold as you break away, Matty’s gaze burning into your back until you’re swallowed into the crowd, weaving your way into the bathroom. Matty clicks the door open a few moments later, glancing around furtively before slipping inside. All the air rushes from his lungs as you slam him against the door, one arm braced against his chest and the other tensed beside his head. A gratifying flash of fear crosses his face and you smirk at him, leaning close to speak against his lips. “Am I scaring you, baby?” He swallows thickly. “Good,” you breathe, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss.

Matty moans into your mouth, the taste of gin spilling from his tongue as you devour him. You kiss to hurt, to injure, to bruise, biting down on his lower lip and licking over the wound. He whimpers a little, from pain or arousal you can’t tell, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s both. “Fuck, you kiss like an animal,” he gasps, chest already heaving.

You grin viciously. “Only when I hate you. C’mon, on your knees. I haven’t got all night.” Matty pouts a little. “Oh, what, did you think I was gonna let you fuck me? I don't know where you’ve been, you fucking whore.” His eyes widen, liquid desire pooling in his irises. “I’m waiting,” you hiss, and he obeys unthinkingly.

His hands come greedily up to your waist, fumbling with the chain looped through your jeans. Finally, he pulls it free, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Seemingly unable to resist, he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, and you clench your jaw against the shudder that runs through you at the contact. “God, you’re so fucking pretty,” Matty groans, tipping his head forward so his curls brush against your lower stomach.

“Get on with it,” you growl, shoving your panties as far down your legs as they’ll go. Matty stares unabashedly at your cunt, slick with the only evidence of your desire you can’t suppress. You gasp as his fingers find your clit deftly, rough and calloused over your swollen nerves.

Without warning, Matty grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, so forcefully that you stumble on your feet. His tongue swipes through your folds, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips, and he smirks up at you. “Taste so sweet, darling. Like a fucking peach.”

You roll your eyes, gripping his hair and dragging him back to your cunt, his tongue lapping deliciously over your clit. “Use that pretty mouth for something better than talking,” you snap, moaning softly as he obliges. Matty’s fingers dig into your hips, nails biting crescents of frantic desire into your skin. He laps at you starvingly, tongue-fucking you deep and fast, the punishing rhythm making you dizzy. Heart rolls up your spine, his name poison-sweet on your tongue as you grind your hips down against his mouth.

You fist a hand in his curls, tugging sharply, Matty’s answering moan reverberating through you. “God, you are a fucking slut,” you groan, pleasure swirling low in your belly. “Like that I’m hurting you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” he moans, indistinct and muffled as the sound vibrates through you. Liquid desire drips down your spine, pooling between your legs and melting on Matty’s tongue, hungry and sure as he buries it deep inside you. He pulls away to suck on your clit, your legs turning jelly-like as a pulse of blinding ecstasy washes over you. You aren’t sure if the bare bulb in the dingy little bathroom is flickering or if your vision is going dim, lost in mind-wiping desire as Matty braces your hips to press his tongue even deeper into you.

Whining, you clench your cunt around his tongue, holding him in place as his fingers come up to play with your clit. You’re barrelling towards an earth-shattering end, twined with the intoxicating power of having Matty whimpering on his knees. “Think you’re so much better than me, huh?” you murmur. “This is where you belong, on your fuckin’ knees for me.” He clings to you like you’re a mirage, like you’ll dissipate and leave him if he lets go, hard and begging and alone with your taste lingering on his tongue.

He draws sloppy figure-eights on your clit, euphoria spreading in your limbs, burning up your blood as you moan his name into the liquor-laced air. Your fingers scramble for purchase against the poster-plastered walls, losing your grip on reality, your impending orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs. A string of honey-slick moans fall from your lips, one hand buried in Matty’s curls as you roll your hips down against his mouth. He makes out with your cunt messily, wantonly, like he’s been starved.

“I’m so close, Jesus fuck—” you cry, slapping a palm over your mouth to keep from screaming as Matty bites down gently on your clit, the flash of pain enough to tip you over the edge. You tumble into oblivion, pleasure burning so hot in your veins that you aren’t sure you have any blood left. Matty licks at you, sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue as your cunt flutters around him, swallowing every drop of your arousal as you come undone on his mouth.

Matty’s eager, fucked-out grin is the first thing you see when you come back to Earth, legs weak and skull throbbing. Mustering up your dignity, you sneer down at him like he hasn’t just given you probably the best orgasm of your life in a cramped, dirty bar bathroom. “Just because I let you eat me out, you think that means I’m just gonna put your filthy fucking dick in my mouth?” you scoff. Casually swinging a leg, the tip of your boot meets Matty’s clothed cock, not quite a kick, but not much of anything else either. A helpless little moan tumbles from his lips and you laugh condescendingly, tilting his chin up so he’s looking in your eyes.

He grinds down against your boot, power thrumming heady in your veins. “Baby, please,” he whimpers, the sound dizzying and gratifying. 

“Pathetic,” you say, low and sweet. “Getting off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal. Bet you’d let me do whatever I wanted, huh?” He nods frantically, desperate to please, his jaw coming compliantly open when you pull down. A thrill steals up your spine as a wad of spit lands on his tongue, chased by a bolt of desire when he swallows obediently. “Don’t come back out until you can fucking control yourself.”

You dress yourself, Matty still panting at your feet, his chin slick with your arousal, and slip back out of the bathroom. Like you’d predicted, your friends are too hammered to question your absence much, accepting your excuse of having gone for a smoke without question. The four of you laugh and sing and dance the rest of the night, Grace slipping away with Ross at a tasteful two a.m., you and Sabrina exchanging a knowing look at her lack of subtlety. At some point, Matty had joined you again, throwing you looks so venomous you’re a little scared.

Just as you’re calling it a night, you scrawl your number on a damp napkin and shove it into his pocket. “In case you’re ever after a rematch,” you say, low enough not to be overheard, and his answering smirk is wicked.

Sabrina sighs dramatically at his retreating back. “Hate to see ‘em go, love to watch ‘em leave.” You snort, shoving her playfully. “Alright, pay up. What did I say? Alone, or with you.”

Groaning, you dig in your wallet and slap a ten-pound note in her outstretched palm. “Alice, have I ever told you you’re my favourite?” Giggling, the three of you stumble out to the taxi rank, the sting of your loss almost forgotten against the heat still tingling between your thighs.

Matty doesn’t text you until the next evening, and you’ll take the grin that split your face at the sight of his message to your grave.

So about that rematch?

Don’t beg it’s pathetic

Had enough of that last night

You know where to find me when you’re ready to put up a real fight

You don’t hear from him for a little while after that, but something tells you the pair of you aren’t done yet. Or maybe that’s just his voice in your head while you bury your hand between your thighs.

Sabrina throws a house party for her twenty-first, because she’s still barred from every good club within ten miles for underage drinking. You’re a little tipsy, a little high, singing along to the CD spinning in the player and sipping a cocktail while you wait for everyone to arrive. The house is a sweaty, heaving mass of bodies by eleven, screaming drunk as you stumble onto the patio. You’re alone except for one other boy with his back to you, his silhouette blurred in the dark as you fish for your cigarettes, alcohol making your body uncoordinated and slow to obey direction.

Sliding one between your lips, you call out, “Have you got a light?” The boy turns, and your heart skips a painfully embarrassing beat. Matty smirks back at you, annoyingly gorgeous with a cigarette dangling from his lips, clad in a floral shirt and a worn leather jacket.

“Long time no see, darling,” he grins. “Was wonderin’ if I’d run into you.” It’s a fight to rein in your thoughts, running wild as want licks up your spine. It’s fucking Pavlovian, you tell yourself, getting off to the thought of him setting off some instinctual reaction to his presence.

“Been thinking about me a lot?” you tease, privately curious as to the answer.

He steps closer, and you try not to flinch. “Oh, I’ve been pulling the absolute cock off myself thinking about how you kicked me in the dick and left me on the fucking ground. Kind of scenario wet dreams are made of,” he snaps.

You laugh like he’s recalling a fond memory to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks at the image of him touching himself. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Shouldn’t have made it so satisfying to kick you in the dick, then.”

Matty flashes his teeth. “You were plenty satisfied already, if memory serves. Jesus fuck, I’m cumming, oh, God, Matty, fuck,” he taunts, putting on a high, breathy affect of your voice, taking another predatory step towards you. He breathes smoke out over your face, the grey cloud curling in front of your eyes, blurring the planes of his face and casting him in a hazy glow.

“You’re making me want to kick you in the dick again,” you threaten, but it lacks any edge, all the fight draining out of you as Matty lifts your hand to slip your forgotten cig between your lips. The touch sparks under your skin, stacked kindling waiting to catch alight, burn you up in the blaze.

“Breathe in,” Matty says quietly, leaning in to press the end of his cigarette against yours, the flame passing between you in a shared breath, smoke burning in your lungs as you draw the moment as long as possible, pulling it like elastic between your hands.

You blow out your smoke, twin exhales staining the air between you. “Kiss me,” you murmur, a breathy plea delivered from chapped lips, blackened lungs, through cold air into unreadable honey-brown eyes.

Matty takes a deep drag on his cigarette and flicks it away, taking your jaw in both hands while the smoke sits in his mouth. You try not to envy that it curls on his tongue, your lips parting instinctively for him as it pours from his mouth into yours. Your inhale is quick, perfunctory, an aside to what comes after you blow it out. His lips are soft, your bite mark healed now, moving against yours with what you could almost mistake as tenderness. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently and pulling you flush against him.

When he slides his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help your relieved little moan, something cool and sharp and dangerous lodging itself in your ribcage. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Missed me, have you?”

“If I say yes, will you fucking touch me?” you snap.

“So needy,” he croons, fingers skirting just below the hem of your skirt. “Wanna stay out here where anyone could see how needy you are for me?”

You stamp on his foot childishly. “If anyone ever finds out I let you touch me, I’ll kill you,” you say, the threat familiar on your tongue, a fraction of your control reigned back in.

Matty laughs. “You’d miss me too much.” You scoff. “Alright, let’s find somewhere to keep this secret, then.”

You practically drag him to Sabrina’s bedroom, and he raises an eyebrow. “If I tried shagging in one of my boys’ rooms, I wouldn’t live long enough for you to kill me,” he remarks.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first guy I’ve ever fucked in here?” You don’t miss the way his grip tightens around your wrist, stiffening slightly. You don’t want to examine what that means.

He sits on the edge of her bed, legs spread and face expectant. “Your turn, love. On your knees, yeah?” You pause, and he laughs darkly. “Oh, you thought you were gonna get fucked?” he taunts, the words a mocking echo of your own, and you feel them like ice thawing in your spine. “Love, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in someone else’s bed at a house party. I wanna take my time with you, tear you to fucking pieces.” Your cunt pulses desperately, forcing you into obeisance even as you wear your disgust plainly on your face. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?” Matty murmurs, low and cruel as you unbuckle his belt and pull his cock free from his jeans. “Fuckin’ gagging for it, aren’t you? Go on, darling, get me hard.”

Your jaw falls open, saliva dripping from your tongue and trailing down his cock. You wrap a hand around him, his hips jolting at the contact. Pumping him slowly, his cock fills in your palm, precum sticky on your fingers when you dig your nail into his slit. You lean down, kitten-licking over the head, and he bucks his hips up with a gasp. “Someone’s eager,” you smirk, pushing his hips down with a smirk.

“Shut up before I shut you up,” he says, darkly threatening in a way that makes you believe him, arousal pooling between your legs.

Matty gathers your hair into a crude ponytail in one fist and you look up at him through your lashes. “If you push my head down, I’m biting your dick off,” you warn, lowering your head and wrapping your lips around his tip.

He moans, fighting not to thrust into the warmth of your mouth as your lips creep down his cock. “That’s it, baby. Go on, take it all. Take this filthy fucking dick. Good girl,” Matty croons, moaning as his cock bumps the back of your throat and you swallow a gag. You bob your head, inhaling deeply through your nose and trying to take all of him. Your nose meets his skin and you grin victoriously around his cock, sugary praise falling from his lips and his eyes fixed on you. “Look so pretty on your knees, baby. If you keep being good, I’ll let you swallow my cum,” he adds, and a bolt of lust strikes your core, tinged acrid with shame at letting him hold power over you.

You jam a hand between your legs, rutting wantonly against it, the friction hot as your clit grinds against the seam of your jeans through your panties. A moan spills out around Matty’s cock, the salt of him filling your mouth as he bucks his hips a little. Pulling up, you swallow around him, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Matty moans your name, the sound so sweet in your ears that you want to press it into a vinyl, layer it in the back of a song you can listen to over and over. A string of spit connects your skin as you pull away from him, sitting back on your knees to look in his eyes. “I changed my mind,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them, an unbidden admission from a hazy head and swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth.”

Groaning, Matty lets go of your hair and brushes it out of your face when it falls. “Fuck, love, are you sure?”

You smirk up at him, holding his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, Healy, you know you want to. Fucking ruin me, wreck my voice, make me cry,” you say. It’s a demand, not a plea, and he knows it. Knows that he’ll be giving you what you want, conceding territory in your battle, letting you knock a piece off the chessboard. But he wants. His hand tangles in your hair, his eyes closing as he moves like he doesn’t want to see himself capitulate. The sting in your scalp feels like victory, the ache in your jaw a triumph. Matty fucks your mouth with abandon, dragging your head and thrusting up to meet the back of your throat, moaning as you gag around him.

You’re helpless, your panties soaked with arousal and your cunt clenching around nothing. Pure, unadulterated need rises in you, needy whines slipping out around his cock while he fucks your face like a toy. “You getting off on being used like this?” he taunts, eyes lidded and face flushed. “Little slut. Not so fuckin’ mouthy now, huh? Such a fuckin’ bitch until you’re on your knees gaggin’ on my cock.” Lewd, wet sounds fill the room, his words pushing you to the precipice of submission threatening to overwhelm. You grind pathetically against your palm, desperate for more than the feeble embers flickering in your belly. “You wanna cum, darling?” he murmurs, lifting you off him, your breaths coming hard and heavy and impossibly loud in the sudden quiet.

“Please,” you whine, past the point of caring for your fractured dignity. “M’so wet, Matty, I need it so bad.”

“I shouldn’t let you,” he says musingly. “Not after what you pulled last time.” He grins, knocking your knees apart with one booted foot. “But I’m a gentleman. These, off,” he orders, kicking at your thigh to indicate your jeans. You scramble awkwardly out of them, kicking them into a pile of Sabrina’s clothes that you’re definitely going to pick up a new shirt from later. Matty presses his boot between your thigh, the pressure on your clit so glorious you swear you almost cum, a wave of pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. “Go on, baby. Get off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal,” he growls, your stolen words hitting you like a shock of ice water.

You hate yourself just a little as your hips roll, taking his cock in your mouth and moaning as he takes up his punishing rhythm. The lace of your panties is rough and scraping over your clit, pain and pleasure mingling in your belly and dripping on Matty’s shoe. Tension winds tight in your belly, a fist clenched so tight it almost breaks skin. Matty fucks your mouth messy and frenzied, his hand tight in your hair and your name sticking to his lips. It sounds like a curse, or maybe a prayer — is there a difference, if God doesn’t exist?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, darling, don’t stop,” Matty groans, head thrown back in rapture. You pull out every trick, swallowing and humming around him, swirling your tongue across his skin until he’s spilling in your mouth with a broken groan. “Fuck, yes, good girl, take it all,” he says. “My little cumdump,” he adds, the words striking at your core, pouring liquid heat directly over your nerves, achingly hot.

You pull off his cock with an obscene pop, opening your mouth to show off your painted-white tongue. A string of cum drips from your mouth, landing over his wet cock. You lap it up eagerly, Matty hissing at the contact to his sensitive skin. Your hips grind faster, cunt throbbing with need. With your mouth now freed, you whine out filthy pleas, tasting burning shame in the back of your throat. “Matty, please, I can’t—” you whimper, cut off when he grips your chin and forces your jaw shut, smirking meanly.

“You can, and you will. M’not gonna help you, baby. Can get off on my boot or not at all.” His cool, impassive tone is belayed by his flushed face, lips parted and eyes wide as he watches you grind pathetically against him. Pleasure coils under your skin, tangling with the burn of humiliation, your head thrown back and incoherent whines falling from your lips. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” Matty moans out, dragging you by the hair so your gaze falls back on him. “Pretty girl. Can’t wait to make you fall apart on my cock, shit.”

Your cunt throbs near-painfully, molten ecstasy turning your organs to liquid, your climax sweet and hot on the tip of your tongue. “M’so close,” you whimper, pleading little gasps stumbling from your lips. You grind your clit harshly against the tough leather of Matty’s shoe, fucking debasing yourself as you chase your orgasm. Digging your nails into his calf, you moan helplessly, gripping him like a lifeline as your head starts to float clear of your body. His eyes glitter triumphantly, holding all the power while reducing you to a pathetic, pleading mess grinding against his shoe.

Ecstasy swirls in your belly, dizzying. It’s thick in your lungs, stoppering your thoughts until all you know is Matty’s cruel little smirk, his lust-blown eyes, his shoe pressed against your cunt. Your final, last-ditch act of rebellion comes when the thread tethering you to your sanity finally snaps. You might have sunk low, lower than you ever thought you could, but you will not plead to cum on his shoe. That final thought circles as pleasure knocks you breathless, a keening wail ripping from your throat as your cunt pulses. Matty’s hand tightens in your hair as you cum, aching bliss coursing through your bloodstream. “Fuck,” you mumble, your legs weak as you crumple to the floor.

“That feel good?” Matty asks, flashing teeth.

“Fuck you,” you snap, painfully conscious of how little effect your words have when you’re on the floor below him, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks.

“I will,” he says sweetly, and you groan.

Trying not to stagger, you get to your feet. “This,” you gesture in the air between you. “Means nothing, alright? As far as everyone we know is concerned, we can’t stand each other. In fact, I can’t stand you.”

“S’that why you got on your knees so fast?” Matty smirks, still leaning insouciantly on Sabrina’s bed. You scoff, disgusted with yourself, and turn to leave. “Might wanna clean yourself up, love,” he calls as you shove the door open. “You look like you just sucked a dick.”

You don’t realise that leaving was a concession until the door clicks shut and you catch his smirk before he disappears from view. Slipping into the miraculously empty bathroom, you realise he’s right; you do look like you’ve just sucked a dick. Your hair is wild, raked through and tangled, mascara running down your face and your lipstick smeared over your chin. The matching ring that must sit around the base of Matty’s cock makes you smirk to yourself, a tangible reminder of the encounter that he’ll have to work to remove.

You manage to tame your appearance and wander back downstairs, finding Sabrina and Alice deep in conversation with Matty and George. “There you are!” Sabrina gasps, loud enough to be heard over the screaming music and loud background chatter. “Thought you’d fucked off home. Was just telling the boys about our gig,” she grins. Oh, right. Your actual fucking gig, where you have to play your songs to a crowd of fans there for somebody else, and somehow hold their attention for an entire set. And you’d just stopped feeling fucking nauseous about it.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me?” Matty says, mocking in a way that only you can sense, prodding at a wound only he can see.

“Oh, please.” You pour yourself a strong drink and take a long sip before you continue. “I’d rather not spew over the front row seeing your ugly fucking mug in the crowd.” George snorts and Sabrina swats your arm.

“Don’t be a cowbag, it’s my birthday,” she scolds, eyes lighting up as they land on an undrunk bottle of tequila. “I know how to loosen you up a bit,” she grins, brandishing the bottle and digging in the fridge for a net bag of limes. “Body shots!” She spins around, wiggling her eyebrows, and you tip your head back with a groan.

She grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer and wobbles over to the counter to start chopping the limes, forcing you to your feet before she lands herself in A&E. “Calm down there, Ghostface,” you laugh, grabbing the knife before she can do any damage. Slicing the limes into neat wedges with bartender-practised ease, you grin at Sabrina and clamp a slice between your teeth. She brushes salt across the top of your tit, her tongue hot over your skin when she licks it up. The shot glass slams on the counter before you even register that she’s picked it up, her lips ghosting against yours as she bites into the flesh of the fruit, the juice spilling across your mouths.

You spit the rind to the floor and cup her jaw, melting into a passionate kiss like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Licking the taste of lime out of her mouth, one of your hands threads in her hair, and Ross whistles. “Fucking hell, are we interrupting something?”

Sabrina snorts. “If that’s got you blushing, the things we’ve done to each other would make your head spin, pretty boy.”

You risk a glance at Matty, rooted to the spot with eyes as wide as saucers, like he can’t believe what he just saw. Interesting. “Who’s next?” you crow, delivering the words as a deliberate taunt to him. “I’ll even take my top off, give you some more space to work with,” you grin, peeling off your top and gratuitously squeezing a tit. 

“Do we get a snog, too?” George smirks, getting to his feet.

Sweeping your hair off your neck, you tilt your head and smile tantalisingly. “Only if you’re good.” Matty’s jaw clenches. Very interesting. Salt scrapes over your skin as George licks you clean, something molten and dangerous pooling in your core at Matty’s intense eye contact. George bites the lime out of your mouth and spits it to the floor, his lips finding yours waiting.

He’s a good kisser, his mouth sure and firm against yours, tongue brushing against your lips as he cups your jaw. Parting your lips for him, the sharp taste of lime lands on your tongue once again, George tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling slightly when he pulls away. Matty looks at you like you’re a future regret, like the narrative is written and he’s only stepping into his role when he comes towards you.

Ever overdramatic and impaired by liquor, you drape yourself over the table, lifting your head to grin up at him. Matty reaches for a shot glass, and you chide him, meeting his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, it’s called a body shot, after all,” you goad, and he swallows, gripping the neck of the tequila like a lifeline.

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. The liquor is cold as he pours it into your belly button, splashing from his trembling hands. The muscles of your stomach twitch, contradictory heat pooling in your core as anticipation creeps under your skin. Salt pours between the valley of your tits, Matty cleaning it off eagerly as you fight not to squirm. You swallow a gasp as Matty sucks and licks the alcohol from your body, the feeling of his tongue swirling gratuitously against you falling straight to your cunt.

With a grimace, Matty straightens, leaning down to grip the lime between his teeth, sharp tartness soaking your bruised lips once again. You savour the sting, Matty’s eyes wide with desire as he leans in. The kiss is messy, all top lip and tongue as you lick the tequila out of his mouth, slowly sitting up and slinging your arms around his neck.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, the rest of the world melting away the longer you lose yourself in his kiss, reality tunnelling down to Matty’s skin on yours. He exhales regret against your lips, pulling away slowly and thumbing over your swollen lip. Fuck, that stings. Matty smirks like he can read your thoughts, like your pain is sweet on his lips.

“Jesus, get a room!” Sabrina scoffs, chucking a lime at your head that you don’t have the facilities to dodge. Matty goes red, wrenching his gaze away from you and fumbling for a cigarette before stumbling out of the room. Sabrina squints at the space he vacated. “Like, will the two of you just fuck already? Instead of subjecting us to whatever that was?”

You glare, folding your arms and screwing up your face as if you can’t think of anything worse. “Don’t be gross.”

Sabrina gets up, turning to face the room at large. “Right, show of hands. Who thinks she just needs to fuck Matty and get it over with.” Six hands go up, and you scowl. Okay, maybe you do want to fuck him, but does everybody need to know about it?

“Please,” groans George. “He’s insufferable when he gets like this about a girl.” He puts on a high effect of Matty’s voice, and you snort. “‘Oh, do you think she’s gonna be there? Will she like this shirt? Does my hair look pretty?’” You roll your eyes, praying the heat in your cheeks is indistinguishable from the flush of the alcohol.

“Ugh,” you say, forcing a shudder. “Get me checked for a brain tumour if I ever fall for that.” You grab the discarded bottle. “Anyway, I’m done being a shot glass. Someone else’s turn.”

Your head spins as you take shot after shot, licking salt from Sabrina’s neck, Ross’ chest, George’s belly. The passage of time slips from your grasp, and before you know it, the party’s mostly over. The last few stragglers are drifting out, Sabrina nowhere to be seen, having slipped upstairs with a girl you vaguely recognise from high school about half an hour ago. Probably shouldn’t tell her that she’s not gonna be the first (or even second) person to get off in her room tonight.

You end up crashing out on the couch, stripping out of your tight jeans and leaving them crumpled next to you — your shirt is long gone. Not a big deal, you can nab one of Sabrina’s in the morning. By some miracle, your headache in the morning is only mild, easily quelled with a glass of water and some painkillers. The house is still, the previous night lingering in sticky floors and plastic cups littering every surface.

One of Sabrina’s guitars is propped against the wall, and picking it up unlocks a vague memory of picking the beginnings of your first song on it, before you had one of your own. You smile fondly, lifting it into your lap and kicking one leg over the arm of the sofa. Your fingers move instinctively, coaxing out the melody you’ve been working on, repeating it over and over and groaning when the next notes just won’t come.

“You’re really good.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still here?”

Matty shrugs, sloping into the chair next to you, seemingly indifferent to your matching states of undress. “Hann was designated driver, and he fucked off somewhere between the body shots and the karaoke,” he snorts. “Brina said I could stay.”

“Don’t call her Brina,” you snap. “You’re lucky she’s so nice. If it was up to me, you’d be in a ditch somewhere right now. Or flattened on the motorway. Wouldn’t that be nice…” you say, wistful as if you’re daydreaming about his viscera splattered across tarmac.

“You’re such a bitch.” It’s a compliment, you can tell, despite his derisive expression.

Not dignifying him with a response, your fingers creep across the strings, plucking out a familiar riff that you can’t quite place. Matty’s smug little grin flashes you back to the day you met, and you realise with disgust that you’re playing the first four notes of Robbers over and over. Your scowl silences the taunt on Matty’s lips. “Shut the fuck up and stop looking at me like that before I make you.”

Matty shudders, shifting in his chair. “You’re so mean. Who hurt you?”

“This conversation is hurting me. Talking to you feels like voluntarily hitting my own head with a brick.” Matty just smirks at you, conspicuously dropping his hands into his lap. “Oh, my god. Is this getting you hard?” you scoff.

An infuriating smirk creeps across Matty’s face “I can’t help it,” he says. “You’re hot when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m always fuckin’ mad at you.”

“Exactly.” His grin is filthy, legs spread wide as your eyes trail down to where his cock is straining against his boxers.

Still plucking idly at the guitar, you speak without looking at him. “Touch yourself for me,” you say, snorting as Matty chokes on his inhale.

He makes a spluttering little sound, and you don’t look up from the guitar in your lap. “Are you being serious? Here? Now?”

You shrug. “You don’t have to. But don’t pretend you don’t want to. Go on, give me a show. S’just about the only thing you’re good for.”

Matty moans, the resolve in his face visibly crumbling as you lift your gaze to meet his. His cock is flushed and dripping as he frees it from his boxers, throwing his head back with a groan. Heat creeps across your cheeks, the display of him obscene. Arousal clenches in your belly as your name spills involuntarily from his lips, cock disappearing into his fist as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” you murmur, breathing slow and deep to keep yourself controlled. Matty’s moans are sweet and syrupy in your ear, low and melodic against your skin. Almost without your knowledge, your fingers dance across the guitar strings, pulling the next notes of your broken melody free instinctively as you watch him. “So pretty like this, baby. Know you can be louder than that. Let me hear you, yeah?”

Slick sounds fill the room, tangling with his moans flowing freely from his lips. Your cunt is dripping in your panties, pleading for attention as Matty fucks his fist, the guitar finally abandoned in your lap. Your hips shift needily against the sofa, the tiniest pulse of pleasure humming through you. “Come here,” he groans, the dominance in his tone sudden and intense.

“What did you just say?” you say, tone carrying a low threat that you don’t even think he notices.

“Can’t make a mess, can I? C’mere, come finish me off. Can see how fuckin’ needy you are from here, love.”

Carefully sliding the guitar off your lap, you stand so you’re towering over him. He gazes openly at your tits, cupped together in your bra, breath hot against your skin. “Who,” you say, voice gentle but full of steel, sliding a hand into his curls. “Do you think you’re talking to?” you demand, fisting your hand and dragging Matty’s eyes up to meet yours, his little pained whimper falling straight to your cunt. “You fucking piece of shit,” you scoff, lowering yourself into his lap. “Get your hands off.” He obeys with a whimper, and you laugh scornfully. God, he’s too fucking easy. “You fucking disgust me,” you murmur against his lips, low and reverent like you’re pouring praise against his mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?”

You tuck him back into his boxers, rolling your hips down and tipping your head back as pleasure runs through you. “M’sorry,I—” You press two fingers against his lips to silence him.

“Gonna let you get off like this. That way you’re only making a mess of yourself, yeah? Say thank you, baby.” Matty ruts his hips up against yours, hungry lips meeting your neck and greedy hands tangling in your hair.

“Th-thank you,” he stammers, breath shaky against your neck. Want pulses sickly in your belly, rising into your chest and squeezing hard as Matty bucks his hips. It doesn’t take long until your name pours free from his lips, tangled in moans and expletives, and he goes limp under you.

Despite your desperate cunt screaming out in protest, you climb off his lap and smile patronisingly down at him. “Fucking filthy,” you say, staring down at his soaked boxers and committing the sight of him to memory, chest flushed and heaving. “You can get dressed and get the fuck out, now. Hope nobody points out the cum stain.”

Matty gives you a look that’s pure loathing, tinged with needy lust, and you jerk your head at him as if to say go on. “Just you wait,” he mutters darkly. “Just you fucking wait. I’ll fucking wreck you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You don’t see Matty face-to-face for a little while after that, but that doesn’t mean he stops plaguing you. A concerning number of your nights are spent with your phone on your pillow, listening to him moan in your ear as you fuck yourself on your fingers. You have to bite down on his name when you’re fucking other guys, the word bitter as you swallow it back down, longing to spill free. It only makes you hate him more.

You hadn’t thought he’d actually come see you play, but George and Ross’ silhouettes are unmistakeable in the crowd of fans screaming for the band you’re opening for. As is the head of dark curls next to them. Your heart catches in your throat, bleeding over your tongue as you step up to the mic stand. The lights shine into your eyes, adrenaline pumping and nerves jangling. You introduce yourself, introduce the band, the few scattered whoops not even making a dent against the unimpressed faces of the front row. George shoots you an encouraging grin, clapping over his head to make sure you see, and it soothes you a little; enough that your body loosens and you can coax your fingers into strumming on your guitar.

By the third song, you’ve relaxed into it, instinctive. Your hair is plastered to your forehead, jewellery tangled around your neck, sweating into your shirt. The crowd has warmed up a little, nodding their heads and swaying, even a few people singing your choruses back at you. You feel electric, a current zapping through you and echoing out of the speakers. Matty is transfixed, you can just about see — his gaze hasn’t left you for more than two seconds at a time since your set started. His thoughts are so plain on his face that you can practically hear them, filth pouring from him and pooling around you, warming your core and… Jesus. Focus.

Mentally dousing yourself in ice water, you lean close to the mic and catch Matty’s eyes. “This next song… I feel like it’s a story every girl knows. You’re at a bar, you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re lookin’ for a bit of fun, right? And you meet a boy and you think he could be the one, at least for tonight. Then he opens his mouth,” you pause as everyone laughs. “And he just won’t. Stop. Talking!” You launch into the song, unable to keep the grin off your face as Matty recognises the melody, the one you played while you watched him get himself off. The memory heats you from the inside out, identical film reels flickering in both your and Matty’s heads as your insides burn with desire.

Apparently, the song resonates with more than a few, the crowd and the cheers wilder with every song now you’ve finally attracted their attention. Disappointment twinges in your gut as you realise you’re onto the last song. “You guys have been fucking phenomenal tonight. You looking forward to the main event?” Obviously, the crowd cheers louder than they have for you all night. You try not to take it to heart, though. “Thank you guys so much for having us, seriously. You up for one more song? Yeah? Let’s fuckin’ go!” Adrenaline rushing to your head and inflating your ego, you grip the hem of your shirt and tug it up to your neck, soaking in the cheer that goes up as you show off your bare tits.

There’s only one reaction you care about, though, Matty’s jaw going slack and his gaze hot and heavy against your skin. The room melts away, the tension stringing between you a living thing that roots you to the spot. The fuse is lit and you know it, can’t stamp it out. All that’s left is to find out which of you ignites first.

You slip into the back of the crowd just before the main act starts, and immediately get suckered into a sweaty, congratulatory group hug from the boys. You don’t even push Matty off when he smacks a kiss at your temple, his low good fucking girl murmured in your ear making you shudder.

The band you opened for are a little stuck-up, but nice enough, so you take them up on their offer to celebrate after. Their frontman’s grin when he tells you to bring some friends, if you like tells you that he’s going to be very fucking disappointed, though, when the friends you bring are four blokes from a well-known local band instead of the girls he’s clearly imagining. His face falls when he sees them, pushing off to chat up a group of girls hovering around the bar.

Which leaves the eight of you in the now-familiar position of being crammed into a too-small booth, with you once again half on Matty’s lap. “Can’t believe you wrote a song about me. You’re too sweet, darling, you shouldn’t have.” he remarks, and you swing your heel back and laugh at his hiss when it connects with his shin.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first good-looking asshole I’ve ever met in a bar? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You think I'm good-looking?” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, too comfortable pushing your buttons in public. You need to grind him beneath your heel, put him back in his fucking place.

You drop your hand under the table, tracing circles in his thigh and feeling the muscles tense under your touch. “And he’s got selective hearing, too. Who's surprised?”

His hips shift needily against your hand, squirming as he tries to force you into giving him what he wants. “Oh, come on, darling. We both know this only ends one way.” He’s full of shit, false bravado layered deliberately in his voice that you can see through like he’s wrapped in cellophane. 

“In your dreams,” you bite out, pressing your hand against his cock in the same moment, kneading softly and watching blood rush into his cheeks as he swallows down a moan.

“Oh, every night, darling.”

Sabrina gags, breaking the two of you out of the bubble you’d been in, the hazy edges of your reality suddenly back in sharp focus. “Can you two stop being gross for two fucking seconds, please? For all our sakes?”

Rolling your eyes, you set your drink down on the table, dangerously close to the edge. “Oh, it’s my fault he’s fucking obsessed with me?” you scoff. “Read my fucking lips, Healy. Never. Gonna. Happen.”

You focus back into the conversation, relishing in the way Matty’s responses fall shorter and shorter as you tease, his voice going weak and breathy with barely-concealed need. With your free hand, you pull your phone out to type him a text.

i was fucking incredible on that stage today

hope youre ready for a long fucking night

not gonna stop unless you beg me.

Matty’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as his gaze flickers across the screen, staring resolutely forward even as his hips shift and his cock fills under your palm. You slide your other hand under Matty’s jeans and boxers a moment later, his cock twitching needily in your palm. His knee jolts at the feeling of your hand against his bare skin, sending your full glass toppling over him, covering him in a sticky combination of soda and alcohol.

Withdrawing your hand, you gasp, turning and pretending to fuss over him. “Fuck’s sake, Matty, you- Oh, my God!” You give a spluttering laugh. Matty’s eyes go wide with fear, pleading with you as he correctly predicts your next words. “Do you have a boner?” you demand incredulously, pulling away from him in fake disgust. The table erupts into laughter, Matty’s face fire-engine red as his hands fall to his lap in a desperate attempt to preserve what’s left of his dignity. Oh, God, he looks so fucking good embarrassed like this, and it makes you squirm a little in your seat to know the humiliation is just turning him on more.

“He totally fucking does!” crows Sabrina, cackling and craning her neck for a better look.

“What’s got you all worked up, mate?” George taunts. “Been so long since you got your dick wet that you’re popping one from being next to a hot girl?”

“No,” Matty snaps. “I mean– I get my dick wet plenty, thank you very much. And I don’t have a boner,” he adds, attempting to push past you and escape. “I just— not feelin’ well. I should go.”

You elbow him harshly, and he winces, biting his tongue around a whine. “Aw, George, you think I’m– give me a second, sex pest, I’m having a conversation– you think I’m hot?”

He grins. “I think you’re a knockout, love. Hey, are you free tonight?”

You snort. “Not for you,” you shoot back, George holding his hand to his chest, mock-affronted. You finally take pity on Matty and let him out of the booth, surreptitiously sliding your hand into his pocket and dropping your spare key. Dramatic? Yes. A bit much? Maybe. But you’ve never claimed to be anything less. “I know it’s gonna be tough, but try not to stick your dick in anything that’ll cause permanent damage on the way home!” you can’t resist shouting at his retreating back. When he’s gone, you pull out your phone to text him your address.

go and wait for me, sit on your hands if you have to, but do not fucking touch yourself

if you’re good, i *might* let you cum tonight

do u want me to break in or something

check ur pocket

you’re insane

ill be home in an hour

can u behave until then?

He doesn’t answer, and you’re looking forward to finding out what that means. You stay for another two rounds, anticipation thrilling in your belly at the prospect of what (or rather, who) is waiting for you at home. Walking into your bedroom, you find Matty face-down on your bed and grinding desperately against your sheets, still fully-clothed as needy little whines slip from his lips. “God, you are just fucking pathetic, huh?” you murmur, your thighs clenching at the pretty picture he makes.

Matty gasps. “M’not touchin’, m’not touchin’,” he promises frantically, and you click your tongue.

“I know, baby. But that doesn’t look much like sitting on your hands, either,” you murmur, peeling out of your shirt and kicking off your jeans. “Couldn’t even be a good boy for me for an hour? Worthless little slut,” you scoff, and he whimpers in response. “Least you kept that pretty dick hard for me. Does that feel good? Grinding on my sheets like a little fucking whore?”

He whimpers, still face-down but not moving, like he won’t be able to control himself if he lays eyes on you. “Yes. M’sorry, feels good. Not as good as you. Didn’t mean to be bad, m’sorry,” he babbles, his desperation obvious.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” you order. Matty obeys instantly, a punched-out groan slipping from his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes glued to the silver barbells glinting teasingly in your nipples. You snap the waistband of your panties against your waist, the action beckoning his gaze down your body. “D'you think I look pretty?” He nods furiously, but you cut him off before he can start lavishing you with praise, rolling your eyes condescendingly. “Didn’t wear it for you, before you start. Thought maybe I’d finally find some hot guy to take me home and fuck me like I deserve,” you hiss, climbing onto the bed next to him. Taking his jaw in your hand, you brush his curls out of his face. Matty shudders under your touch, pliant and needy as he melts into your palms. “Do you think you can fuck me like I deserve, Matty?”

His pride wars openly with desire in his face, eyes glassy as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. “No,” he says finally, the admission ghosting feebly against your lips. He succumbs so sweetly that you press your lips against his, licking the taste of sugary surrender from his mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I could be getting fucked right now, you know. Could’ve had any man I wanted. But no. I get your whining, pathetic ass in my bed instead, fuckin’ rubbing yourself off on my sheets like a disgusting animal. S’bad enough that you’re making me do all the fucking work, least you could do is behave,” you snap, and Matty squirms, your cruel words rooting in his brain, digging claws tearing his every coherent thought to shreds.

“Can make you feel good, promise,” he whimpers. “Let me make you feel good, let me make it up to you, please,” Matty begs, reaching out to tug at the elastic of your waistband.

You slap his hand away, and he whines. “Behave. So greedy,”  you chide. “Did I say you could touch me?”

“N-no.”

“Do you think you deserve to touch me?”

“I— no.” You grin, wide and predatory, and tug his shirt off over his head, running your hand down his slim, toned chest. Unbuckling his belt, you help him out of his jeans, the sticky, wet spot near the waistband of his boxers evident and growing.

You thumb over it gently, pressing the digit into Matty’s mouth as he moans and accepts it eagerly, swirling his tongue pornographically. “So fucking wet,” you murmur. “Needy little whore soaking his pants for me,” you tease. “Come here,” you order, sliding your panties down your legs, cool air kissing at your wet cunt. Matty scrambles to obey, laying between your legs and gazing up at you adoringly, seemingly unsure where to look as his eyes dart between your face, your nipple piercings catching the light, and your glistening cunt inches from his lips. “Go on. Beg for it. Beg for the privilege of touching me, of tasting me, of making me cum.”

“Fuck- fuck. Please let me get you off, sweetheart. Let me taste your pretty pussy, let me make you feel good, make you forget everything. Please just fuckin’ use me, I want— mmph!” You cut him off, pulling his face into your cunt by his hair, his pained little whimper spiralling deliciously through your body.

“Forgot how fucking annoying the sound of your voice is,” you groan, rolling your hips up against Matty’s face as he licks at your cunt like melting ice cream. “Put that mouth of yours to better use, hm?” You take his wrist in a punishing grip as he attempts to slide it up your thigh. “God, it’s like you don’t even want to cum. I never said you could touch me. Can make me cum with just your mouth or you can get up and walk out of here with nothing but that little problem between your legs, okay?”

Matty mumbles something that sounds vaguely agreeing into your cunt, pleasure coiling in your veins as Matty makes out with your hole sloppily. “Thank you s’much for lettin’ me… taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans, whining pitifully when you tug harshly on his curls.

“Don’t talk.” Your grip in his hair is punishing as he whimpers into your cunt, sucking and licking like a man starved. “God, such a fuckin’ slut, baby. You like it when I hurt you, hm?” His muffled moan of yes, fuckin’ love it vibrates through you, shivering pleasure ricocheting through every corner of your body. Matty sucks greedily on your clit, your hips bucking and legs kicking in the air.

It would be a lie to say knowing he’s getting off on the degradation doesn’t turn you on beyond belief. Your cunt pulses against his mouth, his tongue starving and wild over your clit. Matty tongue-fucks you, ravenous, his moans vibrating through your body deliciously. “Fuck,” you moan out, pulling hard on his curls to grind his face harder into your cunt. Heat thrums under your skin, biting your lip so hard you taste blood to swallow your moans. You must be suffocating him, his tongue buried deep in your cunt, but he just keeps going. A moan tears free, low and shameful, and he redoubles his efforts, swirling his tongue over your clit. You’re writhing under his attentions, dripping in his mouth as he starts tongue-fucking you at a dizzying pace. Tension pulls tight in your belly, close and electric under your skin as you clench around his tongue, Matty’s name spilling free from your mouth in a crazed entreaty, tugging on his hair just to feel his answering moan spiral through you. 

His teeth scrape over your clit, the flash of pain finally tearing you loose from your body, ecstasy cascading over you as your cunt pulses against Matty’s mouth. He laps at your dripping cunt, bliss flooding against his tongue as your body wracks with sensation. “That’s right,” you groan, desire pulsing through you, leaking into the corners of your body with every thud of your wild, insistent heartbeat. “Fuckin’ swallow my cum. All of it. Yeah, just like that. Good boy.” The words only spur him on, cleaning you up with helpless enthusiasm, essentially locking himself into an impossible task. Every swipe of his tongue only serves to make you wetter, his moans stirring arousal that pools in his mouth. You pull him off you by his hair, tugging him up to meet you.

Matty grins, already hazy and fucked-out, his lips and chin soaking wet. You commit the sight to memory for a second, bruised lips and lidded eyes, your own personal, yielding little doll. “Thank you,” he says without prompting, and you grin. All it takes is a few sugared words, and he’s putty in your hands.

“Been such a good boy,” you croon, swiping your thumb across his mouth and sucking your own taste off your skin. “You wanna fuck me?”

A flash of something dances across his face, some aborted desire he’s not brave enough to voice dying on his tongue. “Yeah. I– yeah. I want that. Really bad. But… I might not… last, uh, very long. M’so fuckin’ hard, I just want–”

You prise open his jaw, silencing him as his eyes go wide. “Don’t push your luck. I’m letting you cum, ‘cause you’ve been such a good boy for me. Cum without my permission and I’ll make you wish you weren’t born,” you threaten lowly, spitting in his open mouth to seal your words.

He swallows eagerly, nodding hard. “Okay. Uh-huh, okay. M’sorry. Won’t cum, I swear.” You push him onto his back, staring impassively down at him as you straddle his waist. “Can you– I want– please,” he stammers, words tripping over themselves to escape his mouth as you laugh meanly down at him. 

You dig your nails into his chest, anchoring yourself and scraping a mark into his skin. You start to trace your first initial, something droning and possessive buzzing in your ears, then think better of it. Slowly, you circle your hips, teasing the tip of his cock at your dripping hole. “You want me? Want me to fuck you like this?” Matty grasps needily at your hips, whimpering uncontrollable pleas into the thick, lust-drenched air of your room. He cries out as you slam your hips down, unable to stopper the moan that falls from your lips as your cunt stretches wide around him.

Grinding your clit against his stomach, you gasp as Matty thrusts up into you, fucking you impossibly deep. “Shit, Matty,” you hiss, pleasure pulsing under your skin. His gaze is fixed on your tits as you bounce on his cock, timed with his thrusts so he fills you as deep as possible. Running a hand up your body, you squeeze one of your tits, twisting the barbell just enough that it smarts a little, a pained gasp weaving effortlessly between your moans. You whine as Matty’s calloused fingers come up to circle roughly over your clit; sloppy like he can barely control his limbs. “Fuck, baby. You tryin’ to get me off faster so I don’t notice how quick you cum?” You grab his jaw so he can’t look away. “Pathetic.”

Matty doesn’t even speak, just moans helplessly as you ride him, rolling your hips and bouncing on him. Liquid heat pools in your veins, your thighs starting to burn and your heart pumping ecstasy into every nerve of your body. The slick sounds of your hips meeting echo off the walls, tangling with heavy breaths and wanton moans in a lurid melody you wish you could press to vinyl. Your nails dig into his shoulders so hard you break skin, leaving a tangible, lasting mark in the unblemished marble of his skin.

You circle your hips, head swimming with desire. Matty’s desperate little moans only turn you on more, his hips stuttering as he gets closer. Pleasure hums under your skin, a soft throb in the back of your skull and the base of your spine. Your thighs are beginning to burn with the effort, but you barely feel it as you fuck him harder, chasing your own release as it hangs tantalisingly out of reach. “You feel so good,” Matty whines, breathless and needy as he fucks up into you with abandon. His blunt nails dig into your hips, pulling you down to drive deeper into you. White spots dance in your vision, everything in your world going hazy but the point where Matty’s skin meets yours. 

Pleasure courses up your spine in a sweet, sparkling arc, moans flowing freely as Matty’s fingers tease back over your swollen clit. “Fuck, feels so fuckin’ good,” you gasp. “Doin’ so well, baby. Gonna make me cum all over your cock, yeah?” He moans, rubbing tight, frantic circles at your clit. Tension coils tightly in your belly, the thread pulling taut until it finally snaps, arousal burning up your veins and flooding out against his skin, moaning helplessly as he keeps fucking into you. Dizzy, you fall forward, bracing your arms over Matty’s head and cunt pulsing around his cock. Matty’s lips close around your nipple, licking and sucking feverishly as you ride out your orgasm. “Shit,” you mutter, his other hand twisting your piercing as he groans, every motion tinged maniacal with need. “Did so well, Matty. You gonna cum for me? Go on, baby. Fuckin’ fill me up, yeah?”

Your words tip him over the edge, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, moaning your name around your tit. He gasps and whines, writhing helplessly under you. “God, feels so fuckin’ good,” he moans. “Thank you s’much,” he adds, smiling dopily up at you as you climb off him and test your weight on your feet before you stand. When you come back from cleaning yourself up, Matty’s dressed again, looking so miserable that you can’t help but take pity on him. “I’m goin’, don’t worry.”

You scoff. “Come back here.” Matty freezes, spinning on his heel so comically slowly that you stifle a giggle. “Jesus. I’m not evil. S’fucking freezing out there, I’m not making you trek back to fucking Wilmslow after that.” Matty just stares, and you roll your eyes. “Come back before I change my mind.”

Matty strips to his boxers embarrassingly fast, but you kind of don’t have it in you to tease when he slots himself sweetly into your arms. It’s almost… nice. Blech. “Did I do good?” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleep-thick.

You scratch your nails over his head and he hums happily. “Yeah, did so good, baby. Dunno what happened to all that shit you were talking about wrecking me, though. Kinda seemed like the other way around…” you tease.

He laughs softly. “I’ll get another chance. Gonna look so pretty crying on my cock, love.”

“Promises, promises,” you say, the muscles of his stomach tensing as you trace idle patterns in his skin. “Are you gonna keep them?”

“Piss me off enough and you’ll find out.”

Excitement thrills in your belly, the words sealing the two of you into some kind of promise, a brutal, delicious game of chess that you honestly couldn’t predict the winner in. “You know I will.”

[cottonlemonade]

His Favorite Customer

word count: 1276 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Osamu x chubby!Reader

genre: angst ending in fluff

warnings: catcalling, spoilers

request: watching Goosebumps with some sweet’n’salty popcorn dressed as a traffic cone with Osamu || fluffy-angsty, Halloween Party with crush Osamu

Up until a few minutes ago you thought, the worst day of your life was when your now ex-boyfriend broke up with you in the middle of a supermarket. You still couldn‘t look at a can of peas without getting flashbacks. But when a car drove past you and splashed your costume which was already unfit for the cold to begin with, you were certain it couldn‘t get any worse than this. The friend who had invited you to the Halloween party left around the time you lost your last bit of sanity with some Dracula she just met, taking her car and thus your ride with her. When she called to apologize for leaving you behind, it was clear that you had become nothing but an afterthought, and even the promise of a free lunch the next day did nothing to lighten your mood or lessen the simmering feeling of abandonment. You shuddered in a cold breeze, goosebumps forming on your arms and legs. No taxi in sight and the street was filled with drunk partygoers howling and screaming - you just wanted to be home and wash this stupid night off you with the longest hottest shower known to man.

You ignored the notification about your dying battery and tapped around for the number of a taxi service or an Uber. But of course, just your luck, everyone you called was busy. If it wasn‘t so late and dark and cold and wet you might have considered walking. It wasn‘t too far away in the grand scheme of things - at least compared to other places like, say, China. But you stopped after only a couple of homeward steps. Being ever so helpful, your mom had recently sent you link after link to articles from various newspapers all warning people to not walk the streets alone after dark for a spike of crime during the costume season, finishing off the sinister spam with an obligatory kiss emoji. As you (very bravely) held back tears you scrolled through your contacts, trying to figure out which of them you wouldn‘t mind losing if you woke them up at 1 a.m. to pick you up from a random Halloween party somewhere in the outskirts of Kobe.

Halfway through the E‘s your phone finally shut down. Great.

You sniffled, slung your arms closer to your body for a bit of warmth, and started walking. Some convenience store might sell a charger or have a payphone at least, you told yourself.

Cars whooshed past, groups of friends staggered dangerously close to the road and the wetness from the earlier drive-by splash slowly seeped through the last layer of fabric. It truly couldn‘t get any worse. That was until a few minutes later when a handful of guys stumbled out of a bar in front of you, clearly very drunk. You braced yourself, holding tightly to the small purse you carried, and looked at the ground as you walked by them. Unfortunately, you weren‘t quite as invisible as you would have liked. You heard many sets of steps fall in behind you. Not wanting them to think you just assumed they meant any harm, you tried to steady your breathing but ever so slightly increased your pace. So did the steps behind you. You lengthened your stride again, making the men behind you laugh and call out, “What are you running from, little butterball?! There should be enough for all of us!“

Throwing caution to the wind you began to run, your eyes spotting the telltale sign of a convenience store like a shining beacon just up ahead. More laughter, wolf whistling, and something that sounded very much like someone running after you. Your heart pumped with adrenaline, your lungs were burning - when was the last time you ran anywhere but a short sprint to the bus? You couldn‘t keep this up for long, surely he would catch up with you any moment. You dared to look behind you but in your hurry couldn‘t spot the person following. Taking a deep breath you were ready to let out a scream when you bumped into something very solid.

Two strong hands steadied you by your shoulders and a familiar voice said, “Oh, sorry. - Hey, ya okay?“

You didn‘t care anymore and just held onto their puffy jacket, squeezing your eyes shut.

Whoever it was, put an arm around your shoulder and you heard him bark, “Keep walkin‘.“,

Ignoring the inappropriate comments that followed, you began to cry and a second arm came up to wrap around you.

“It‘s alright.“, he said calmly, “They‘re gone. Yer good.“

You sniffled again and looked up.

“O-samu?”, you hiccuped in between the syllables.

He looked around, then noticed your wet costume and pulled you into the warmth of the convenience store.

Once he ushered you to the seating area facing the shop window he shrugged off his jacket to put it around your shoulders. Then he excused himself for a moment and went to collect just about every hot food item the store had to offer from deliciously steaming ramen and sticky skewers to Chinese buns with different fillings, one savory, one sweet. His short absence allowed you to take deep breaths of his jacket collar. That warm, woody scent that had driven you crazy for months was just what you needed to calm down. The last couple of minutes already felt like they happened hours ago and you shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. You turned around in your chair and watched him consider the beverage shelf by the door, until he eventually shrugged and grabbed an armful of various flavors. Seeing him balance everything to the cash register and dumping it on the already teetering mountain of food made you smile, then chuckle which helped release some of the nervous energy still pent up in your body. You pulled the puffy parka closer to you, thinking about the many many times you had hoped the handsome store owner would ask you out. Often enough he had reciprocated a flirty comment that slipped out from you, making you question whether he meant it or if he just considered that good service. You surely would have enough opportunity to overthink later but right now you were just so very glad someone you knew was there to help. As you ate, you explained the situation between fewer and fewer sobs.

“No problem.”, he said, pinching off a piece from the steamed red bean bun, “I’ll take ya home.”

“Thank you so so much. I owe you.”

“Don’t even think about it. Least I can do for my favorite customer.”, he grinned and took another piece of bun.

“Bet you say that to everyone.”, you mumbled, then quickly blew on the noodles to cover the comment.

“Can’t believe ya think that low of me.”, he joked and shook his head in pretend sadness.

You pushed the half eaten bun over to him, “Peace offering?”

“Well, if ya insist.” He happily took a large bite and you laughed.

The car ride to your place was pleasantly quiet. You took the opportunity to take a couple more inconspicuous whiffs of his jacket before finally handing it back to him when you got out.

“Thank you again so so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No worries.”, Osamu hesitated for a moment, then added, “I meant it, ya know. Yer my favorite. I hope yer coming by tomorrow so I can make ya forget those jerks. Food’s on the house, of course.”

Your cheeks began to hurt from so much smiling.

“I’d love that. See you tomorrow.”

art: @Zing14268125 on Twitter

a/n: a request for @pinkmildliner

Thank you so much for the congratulations and the request! I hope you enjoyed it!

for requests see here

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Group Introductions

Alastor x Shy!Reader (QP)

(ft. BFF Charlie)

(A/N: I tried with this one, guys. No promises :') Also damn, I am on a roll)

It wasn’t very often that someone caught Alastor’s eye, but for some reason, you kept popping up. You often showed up at the hotel to help your close friend, Charlie, with whatever needed to be done, but you usually kept to yourself. In fact, Alastor could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen you talk to anyone besides Charlie. 

So imagine his surprise when you nervously approached him, fidgeting with your hands behind your back politely. “Excuse me, Mr. Alastor, b-but Charlie is wondering where you put the gold-inlaid tea set from Asmodeus. Sh-she says she can’t find it.” 

You kept your eyes downward, careful not to look directly at the Radio Demon. Your heart was doing flips in your chest, anxious that you’d say something wrong and that he’d get mad at you, or worse.

“Oh!” Alastor grinned down at you, amused. “Hello there, my dear. The tea set is in the back of the tallest cabinet. I found the designs quite off-putting. Might I ask why Charlie is looking for it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied quietly. “Thank you.” With that, you scurried off, Alastor watching you curiously.

Whenever you were at the hotel, you noticed how Alastor was always around. You wouldn’t say he was watching you per say, but he was just always… there. If you needed something and Charlie wasn’t around, he’d approach you and try to help. You never took him up on his offers, preferring to do things on your own, but it was appreciated nonetheless. 

“Hey,” Charlie was saying one day. The two of you were carrying boxes down to storage. “Have you ever met the other hotel staff? Or our residents? You’re here often enough.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “No. I talked to Alastor once, though. But it’s okay, I don’t need to meet them.” You added that last part hurriedly. The last thing you wanted to happen was for Charlie to go around introducing you to everyone one at a time. Not only would that be extremely embarrassing, but you just… didn’t feel comfortable talking to people.

Surprise, surprise, that was exactly what Charlie did. 

You’d been dragged along to a group session against your will, causing you to sit in a corner, hoping no one would acknowledge you. That technique didn’t seem to work, however, since everyone kept looking towards you anyway. 

“Alright, everyone! Before we start today’s session, I want to introduce someone to you all!” Motioning towards you, Charlie urged you out of your corner. She looked so happy and excited, you just couldn’t say no to her. Despite the anxiety making your hands shake, you stood and awkwardly shuffled over to Charlie’s side. “This is one of my best friends!” Then, one by one, she started pointing everyone out. 

“That’s Vaggie, you’ve met her before!” Vaggie waved at you, giving you a reassuring smile, or as reassuring as she could manage.

“That’s Angel! He was our first resident, and has been staying here the longest!” The white spider demon, who you’d seen around but never interacted with before, glanced up from his phone to wave at you. He seemed wholly disinterested in the exchange, which didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 

“Next to him is Sir Pentious!” 

The snake demon waved exuberantly, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” You only nodded in reply in an attempt to be polite, trying to keep your eyes down. 

“And then there’s Niffty.” The small cyclops demon was much too preoccupied trying to stab a bug that was around beneath the furniture to bother acknowledging you or Charlie. You’d worked with Niffty before, helping make some of the beds, but you’d never spoken a word to her. You were okay with that. 

“Husk.” Upon hearing his name, the bartender only glanced up, before shrugging and going back to reorganizing his liquor cabinet. Like Niffty, you’d also helped him out before at Charlie’s request, but a word had never been spoken between the two of you. He didn’t seem very friendly anyway. 

A shadow grew behind you before Alastor’s tall figure appeared beside you. “And you’ve already met me before. A pleasure, my dear.” Dramatically, he gently took your hand and brought it to his lips. Your face went beet red (or whatever color your blood was) as you took your hand back quickly, nearly hitting Alastor as you did so. 

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you mustered, voice barely audible to yourself, let alone to those further away. “Excuse me.” You ran out the room before Charlie could even think of stopping you, finding a spare closet to hide in. 

Recounting the interaction in your head, you groaned as you placed your head in your hands. Maybe if you never came back to the hotel, you wouldn’t have to deal with any more embarrassing interactions? Why did Charlie have to single you out like that? She knew you weren’t a very social person! 

Not returning to the hotel wasn’t an option, you decided, hiding in that closet. You cared for Charlie too much to let her down like that. She’d told you so many times how much she valued your help. So maybe… just not interact with anyone else ever again? That could work, right?

Your mind kept going back to how Alastor kissed your hand. How are you supposed to tell someone you’re not the romantic type? This sort of thing had never happened before. And you did like Alastor, but not like that! 

“Hey, are you okay?” It was Charlie. How she’d found you, you had no idea, but that didn’t matter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I just… really think you’d like them. And I thought, since you’re basically part of the staff already, it only made sense to, you know, introduce you?”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted so your back was against the closed closet door. “It… It’s okay. I get it. I just…” Sighing, you let your head fall against the door. “Does Alastor always act like that? B-because if he doesn’t, I have to tell him I’m not… you know… A-and I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry about that!” Charlie let out a little awkward chuckle. “He’s like you, even if he doesn’t know it. He was just being polite.”

Relief filled your chest. “Oh thank Satan.”