#the longest fucking post i've ever written

[unnamed-atlas]

Having brain worms. What if uhhhhhh SOS Mianite au

[kenobihater]

the last remaining threads of my sanity are slipping through my fingers rn 🚬 😑

[randomisedmongoose]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Disco Elysium (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi, Judit Minot/Jean Vicquemare Characters: Harry Du Bois, Kim Kitsuragi, Judit Minot, Jean Vicquemare, Ptolemy Pryce, Jules Pidieu Additional Tags: Case Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Police Brutality, Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Flashbacks, Racism, Rated E for eventual smut but you'll have to wait a bit Series: Part 2 of A long, cold winter Summary:

“… is expected to rise by two points by tomorrow morning. That’s it for economics. In other news, radio personalities Harmon Gates and Heo Si-yeon, known for their controversial talk show ‘Beyond the Pale’ on Radio New Revachol, were found dead yesterday in their downtown Jamrock studio. The RCM are quoted as saying that officers are investigating the case. No word as of yet if they are suspecting foul play, but Channel Nine will be following this case with interest. Now: sports. The Villalobos all-female ruby team Las Halcones won big yesterday against…”

[baby-yongbok]

Cam Star

Camboy!Hyunjin x Camgirl!Reader

♡ Genre - Smut ♡ Word Count - 10k ✧ Masterlist ✧

♡ Summary - You haven’t seen Hyunjin since the CamStar convention but he’s been on your mind and you’ve been on his. Today’s the day of your collaboration with him, a spicy show for hundreds to watch but the cam is the last thing on your mind.

♡ A/N: I started this as soon as I saw that gif of Hyunjin on live. I wrote this based on one of the many thoughts that gif brought me but it took me FOREVER to complete this. I'm glad that I can at least post it on his birthday! This is the longest fic I've written on this account and I'm proud of it. I hope that you enjoy! 💕+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ MDNI

♡ Warnings: Use of marijuana and alcohol, Foot worship/play, unprotected piv, exhibitionism? - That should be all, let me know if I missed any!

You’ve had a month to prepare for tonight's plans. Everything around you is perfect, your sheets are soft and clean. Your set is lit to perfection and the new matching co-ords that you're sporting for tonight's show were picked out carefully by you and your best friend, Felix, who happens to be a close friend of tonight's guest. You’ve confided in your friend for weeks about your guest's preferences to try and calm your nerves but he didn’t tell you anything that you didn’t already know. 

You would think that maintaining a spot as one of the top five creators on CamStar for two years would make you feel more like a seasoned professional but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every time that you think about the fact that you’re about to collaborate with Hyunjin, one of the top three male creators on the site, you want to scream and kick your feet like a flustered school girl. Hyunjin is the epitome of beauty, that might sound a bit extreme but it’s true. He’s captivating and shameless with what he does, always begging the chat to let him cum and making such intense and sexy eye contact with the lens that you feel like you’re right there with him. You’ve gotten off to his cams more times than you’d ever admit to him and according to Felix his friend has done the same to yours.  

The mirror would be sick of seeing you if it were a person because here you are standing in front of it for the hundredth time tonight brushing off your short shorts and pulling up your tube top. The deep golden yellow fabric is nearly see through against you and you can’t help but to think that maybe you should change. Maybe this is too much? I mean yeah you’re about to be naked on camera for others across the internet to see and you’re more than comfortable in this outfit but what if Hyunjin doesn’t like it? Felix said that he thinks that his friend will go speechless when he sees you but what if he’s wrong? What if - oh fuck, he’s here.

The echo of the doorbell through your living room leaves you frozen for a second too long before you break into a soft jog over to your front door. You slide across the hardwood with your fuzzy pineapple print socks and take a deep breath as you twist the knob. There he is. Your eyes meet his for a second and you both smile as you take each other in. He’s chosen his usual laid back attire for tonight's show as you expected. His oversized Hilfiger t-shirt and black cargo sweats don't surprise you one bit but you seemed to have caught him a bit off guard with your choice of threads tonight.

“Hey, you’re early.” Hyunjin stares at you, wide eyed and silent for a second too long before he’s clearing his throat and lifting his gaze from your bare thighs to your eyes.  

“Yeah, I uh - roads were clearer than I thought.” You step aside, inviting him in and you can feel the nervous pit in your stomach deepen as he brushes past you. 

“I told you they would be.” Once he slips his shoes off and drops his bag at the door the two of you stand in awkward silence as you steal glances and open and close your mouths for what feels like an eternity. 

“It’s uh- good to see you.” He leans in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and you follow his lead, lacing your arms around his neck as you sigh.

“We’re being such losers right now.” The vibration of his chuckle as he pulls away brings a smile to your face.

“Can you blame me? I haven’t seen you in what? Five months? Maybe six.” You hum, making your way over to your couch and plopping down onto the soft cherry red cushion. 

“Six months, yeah. I mean, we’ve kinda kept in touch since the convention.”

“Commenting on instagram photos and retweeting posts do not count as keeping in touch and you know it.” A blush creeps across your cheeks as he sits next to you, elbows resting on his knees and that damned smirk on his lips. It’s the same one that he uses during his livestreams, the same one that you’ve cum to over and over again. 

“Yeah I know, I know.” You cross your legs underneath you, turning towards him. “You dyed your hair?”

“Yeah, wanted to do something different. I haven’t gone live with it yet so tonight will be the debut for this look.”

“I’m honored that you’ve chosen to debut it with me.” Your fingers rake through his soft locks as you take in the new cut.

“Of course, Princess.” The fact that you aren’t gasping for air right now and appear to be keeping your cool is actually magic. Pure witchcraft, honestly. How can someone make a pet name sound so good? “I need to get used to calling you that so I don’t say your name on cam.”

Your blush deepens as you stare down at his lap. Right, you forgot that you go by Princess when you’re on cam. He’s only calling you that cause that’s what you go by, gosh are you that down bad already? 

“I don’t have to change much, Jinnie.” You sing his name a bit and he smiles at the sound of it. 

“You’re lucky that I go by my name or else you’d have to moan something outlandish like Your Majesty or something.” You fall into a laughing fit, falling onto his shoulder dramatically for support. “Maybe I’ll have you call me that since you seem to enjoy it so much.”

His laugh mirrors yours as he watches you, your head resting on his shoulder with your eyes shut and your mouth hung open as you try to catch your breath. He’s never heard a prettier laugh in his life, he swears it. “Please do not make me call you that I won’t be able to keep a straight face.”

“You already won’t be able to do that though.” He grins as your laughing dies down and you take a final deep breath. Your previous laughter has started to turn into something else entirely. You can feel the heat start to surround the two of you but you’re not even on set or in front of the camera yet. This is what happened last time that you and Hyunjin were together. Everyone at the convention swore that you two had undeniable chemistry. 

“I would say that you’ll have to get used to moaning Princess but something tells me that you already have experience with that.” His eyebrows raise as he leans back into your couch.

“What gives you that idea?”

“Word on the street is that you watch my shows.” There goes that smirk again. He lets his head fall back against the back of your couch as he sighs a bit. 

“Is that right?” He lifts his head, inspecting your matching smirk as he licks over his bottom lip. “Well what if I told you that I heard that you are a big fan of my shows too.”

Your blush is back as you tongue your cheek. Damn Felix and his big mouth! Why would he tell him that? Just play it cool. “Where did you get that information?”

“From the same street that you got your information.” The eye contact that the two of you hold is strong and hot like a steady flame. You watch as his eyes trail from your lips and down the curve of your neck for just a second before rushing back up to meet your gaze but instead of his honey pupils meeting yours he’s met with the view of your own lustful gaze trailing down the slope of his toned arm. 

You’ve done other collabs with people that you're close to and some that you’ve only spoken to for a couple of hours at a convention so you can confidently say that you have never felt as titillated as you do with Hyunjin right now. To be fair, you didn’t have a crush on any of those other people. 

You may not talk to Hyunjin as much as you desire to but you’ve watched every single one of his cams and SFW Q & A’s as well as his YouTube vlogs that you only just found out about days after you asked him to collab with you. He’s mentioned his art to you before but it wasn’t until you came across his channel that you saw just how good he is with a brush or almost any other medium. That mixed with being able to enjoy his everyday lifestyle content and his breathtaking dance covers has made you feel closer to him than you felt before. Though you do find it kind of embarrassing that you’ve gotten close to him through a screen instead of real life.

 Little do you know that Hyunjin is no better than you when it comes to consuming an unspeakable amount of your content. Every single cam that you’ve ever done has been viewed by him at least once and he’s not ashamed to say that he’s even paid to view the premium content.

 He found out about your lifestyle and mental health blog around the same time that you found out about his YouTube channel and he proceeded to scroll all the way down to your first post and back up again. He watched each and every one of your advice videos on the site and has read every word that you’ve ever written and posted. He found himself falling in love with the way that your mind works. He loves the way that you look at life and how you’re able to transform your feelings into breath-taking statements. He nearly forgot about your cams when he found your site. 

“So you think that I’m used to moaning your name?” His question pulls your attention back up to his gaze. 

“Maybe you moan it in your free time.” You shrug with a wink, turning away from him quickly but luckily you don’t miss the smile and blush that he tries to hide from you. 

“I could say the same for you.” He grumbles under his breath as he lets his head fall back against the couch again. You both sit silently, trying your best not to smile like an idiot in front of the other. “Did you pre-game?”

“Uh no not yet, didn’t know if you wanted to join.” You stand, raising your arms to stretch a bit and shamelessly giving him the perfect view of your ass in your shorts. “I know it’s not really your thing.”

“Mm.” He must be enjoying the view. “I’m your guest, I follow your vibe. I don’t mind joining you.”

You hum, making your way over to the black box on your TV stand. “You smoke?”

“Yeah, casually, mostly just with Felix or at parties and shit like that.” 

“I didn’t know. Do you have a favorite strain? I have just about everything.” He falls into silent thought as you take your seat next to him, setting the box in your arms on the table and starting to set up.

“Purple Runtz, I think. I smoked that one before a cam once and I felt ten times more sensitive.” He sits up, leaning forward to watch as you open your box which basically serves as a mini dispensary. Your interest in weed goes way beyond just getting high for the fuck of it. It’s been the best remedy for your anxiety since you tried it but then again you don’t owe anyone an explanation on why you always have a blunt rolled and ready. 

“Ou, I love that one, I think I have some of that. My favorite is Apollo 11, it makes me feel so relaxed and fucking brainless. My anxiety evaporates as soon as I hit it.”

“Are you anxious tonight?” You don’t look over at him. You simply grin as you continue to search for your favorite pipe. You actually aren’t too nervous about tonight's show, something about having Hyunjin here is grounding.

“Not really but I still wanna take a hit or two.” He nods, reaching for the pipe that you laid out on your coffee table. 

“How the hell did you get your pipe so clean?” You giggle as you finally find the strains you both mentioned earlier and take a bit out for the both of you.

“That’s a secret, your majesty.” You erupt into your second fit of laughter for the night when you look over and get a glimpse of the most wicked side eye you’ve ever seen. 

“Fuck you.”

“You will soon.” You pick out your favorite grinder and close your box. “Want anything else?”

“Got any soju?” You pause, turning around slowly to face him with a raised brow.

“You want to get cross faded?” 

“Not really, I don’t drink much just up to the first line of a solo cup. That’s more of my thing than smoking, really.” He shrugs, placing your pipe back down onto the table.

“I mean, if you think that you can handle it. I do want you to remember the night, you know?” 

“I’m not a teenager, I can handle it. I’ve done it before and it’s not like I’m smoking an entire blunt by myself.” You proceed grinding the buds as he stands from your couch. 

“Your kitchen is…” He walks towards the archway of your living room and mumbles a small ‘there’ when he spots the dark kitchen right across the narrow hallway.

“Soju is on the top shelf of the cabinet next to the fridge.” You call out as you start to fill the bowl of your purple glass pipe. 

“So high up for such a little person.” He calls back as you hear the cabinet close.

“Solo cups are on top of the fridge and fuck off tall person.” You can hear the faint echo of his chuckle as he fixes his drink. You take the couple of seconds that you’re waiting for him as an opportunity to light the bowl and take the first hit. 

“A yellow solo? Really? You know that the red solo cups are the sexy ones.” You stifle a chuckle in a desperate attempt not to choke on the smoke in your lungs. He brings the cup to his lips quickly before taking the pipe that you're offering him.

“Sexy?” You question following your exhale. “What makes the red ones sexy?”

“The sense of mystery.” He mumbles as he exhales over his shoulder. “I just never see the yellow ones.” You hum, taking the pipe back and peaking into his cup.

“Hyunjin, that’s way more than just the bottom of the cup.” The corner of his mouth twitches as he offers you the cup.

“That’s because I got just a bit more to share with you.” 

“I didn’t say that I wanted any.” You tease.

“True, you don’t have to have any. Just thought of you since I came to your house and started drinking your liquor.” You set your pipe down and take the cup from Hyunjin’s hand silently before turning to him completely and holding your pinky out. 

“I’ll have some but I just need us to promise something first.” He turns to face you completely, glancing down at your finger with a faint grin. “I get high before almost every cam and I know that you’re aware of that but I’ve never really done it with anyone else. Well, not on cam. I just want us to be comfortable.”

He holds his pinky out to you, wrapping it around yours without question. “I promise that I’ll be fine and that I’m more than okay with everything that will happen tonight. If I’m uncomfortable I’ll tell you, you’ll do the same, right? I only want to make you feel good, nothing else.” 

“I promise that I’ll be fine too. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll communicate so much that you’ll want me to shut up.” The two of you had already discussed your limits beforehand and you’ve both done your research on the other person - whether it be for business or personal benefits varies - but you feel yourself relax further now that you’ve heard him say that he’ll be fine. Pinky promises are like a contract after all. 

“Impossible, I could never want such a thing.” You let go of his finger and he follows, a grin on both of your faces as he reaches for his cup but you beat him to it. “We’re sharing the bowl and the drink anyway, It’ll literally just be the tip of the iceberg.” He’s right, this isn’t enough to fuck you guys up, not with the tolerance that you have. It’s just enough to make you both melt and feel loose enough to drop your masks a little faster.

“You know what we should do?” He takes the cup as you pass it to him, drinking from the same spot on the cusp that you just did. Did he mean to do that? Was that like an indirect kiss? Or are you really that down bad for him already? Fuck, get a grip. “We should start a bit early, maybe just sit and talk to set the mood?”

“You can’t smoke on cam though.” He takes another sip as you finish your second hit. 

“Let’s start after the bowl then. We can share the drink and just chill? Get a feel of everything and vibe check the chat.” He hums, choking a bit on his inhale but recovering pretty quickly, he must do this more frequently than you thought. He clears his throat taking a sip of soju to substitute one burn for another. 

“That’s fine with me, Princess.”

“You never told me if I look okay.” The two of you finished smoking maybe fifteen minutes ago and decided to move to your office to start getting comfortable on set. 

“That’s because I didn’t trust myself to say something that didn’t sound lame.” Hyunjin makes himself comfortable on your sofa bed, yellow solo cup in hand while he pushes his hair out of his face.

“That was then, what about now?”

“Now I can confidently say that you look absolutely breath-taking.” The soft sound of R&B music playing across the room fills in the silence after his answer. Your content giggling and smiling while you set up your camera and adjust your laptop is enough feedback for him.  “What’s the second cam for?”

“Oh, collabs aren’t available in my archive to try and encourage more people to watch them. So if anyone misses this they’re assed out but I do like to record collabs for myself to watch back later.” 

“Yeah? Gonna get off to me fucking you later?” The weed and soju are definitely doing their job for him. His playful and teasing nature has been on full display since the two of you finished smoking. Your mask is dropped too so you have no problem matching his energy.

“Maybe, better put on an unforgettable show.” He tongues his cheek, eyeing your glossed lips. He can’t wait to smear that red tint across your cheeks, he’ll definitely give you an unforgettable show. You settle next to him, draping your bare legs over his clothed lap.

“You’ve seen my cams.” His eyes meet yours slowly. “So you know that I will.”

“Then let’s do this.” You lean forward to hit ‘Go Live’ but Hyunjin stops you before you can press it. 

“Hold on, I wanted to do something first.” He takes your hand gently as he leans forward to sit the yellow cup on the table in front of the both of you. You hum, staring at him with pinched brows but when he pushes your hair from your face and runs his thumb over your cheek bone you can’t help but to let go of the tension in your face. 

“I don’t really want our first kiss to be on cam, if you don’t mind.” A grin creeps up on you as he searches your eyes, leaning in so closely that you can feel his breath tickling your lips. 

 “Can I kiss you?” You answer him by leaning in and pressing your lips against his. He sighs into you as his lips move against yours. Soft, gentle and only for you. His other hand finds your waist and he pulls you closer to him until your racing heart is nearly against his own. You let out a soft moan as you feel his tongue trace the seam of your mouth. Once he hears that sweet sound he knows that he has to pull away or else the two of you will never turn that camera on and he’ll keep every inch of you to himself. You notice his reluctance as he pulls away but the look in his eyes once they flutter open and meet yours makes you forget about everything except the feeling of him against you. 

“You’re smiling.” You turn away at his comment trying to hide your face from him but he turns your head back, a matching smile on his lips. 

“You kissed me, of course I’m smiling.”

“Does that mean that you like me?” You turn away from him, groaning playfully as you avoid his gaze. 

“Are you ready now? Or are you going to keep flirting with me?” His chuckle brings back the smile that you’re fighting to get rid of and it excites the butterflies in your stomach all over again. Luckily for you Hyunjin is just as down bad as you are, his stomach is doing somersaults right now and he swears that his heart is beating out of his chest. 

“I’m ready.”

The chat went from being chill with just about ninety people watching to absolutely overflowing as soon as your usual air time hit. You’re used to having a large audience but the number on your screen is nearly more than double what it usually is thanks to your special guest. 

Jinnie! You dyed your hair. They look so hot together omg I’d do anything to be between the two of them right now Can he handle our Princess?

You and Hyunjin skim through the buzzing chat, responding to the comments that catch your eye. 

“So many comments about my hair. I just did it because I wanted to impress you all, did it work?” He winks at the camera, his signature smirk on his lips as he brings the cup up to take a sip. He tilts the cup towards you once he sips from it but you bring your hand up to play in his hair instead. 

“It’s so soft, like, you all would not believe it. I really like the black on him, don’t you?” His eyes meet yours as he licks his lips. 

“Are you impressed?” It’s your turn to smirk as you take the cup from him, brushing your fingertips over the back of his hand in the process.

“Let’s save the reviews for after the show.” You offer a quick wink as you sip from the cup. He tongues his cheek as he focuses back on the chat but his hands are only focused on you.

His fingers are having a field day as they trace sensitive circles and lines into your calves and thighs. He kneads at the flesh softly as he makes conversation with the viewers that he recognizes, but you can’t seem to focus on chat right now. Not when your crushes' big hands are massaging every inch of exposed skin he can reach.

Hyunjin notices that you’re a bit spaced out, so he asks you a question to help you refocus. The conversation kind of turns into an impromptu story time that consists of you and Hyunjin telling the viewers and each other about the other collabs that you’ve done. The further that you get into the show, the closer you and Hyunjin get. You’ve gone from just having your calves draped over his lap to moving closer and putting your arm over his shoulder. That has led you to how you are right now, his arm around your waist with your legs draped over his lap and your head on his shoulder. Your breath is tickling that sweet spot on his neck, and he’s trying desperately to focus on the timbre of your laugh instead of how eager he is to touch you. You’re laughing about something that probably isn’t that funny - thanks to the weed - when Hyunjin reads a comment out loud. 

“Looks like you got a tip and a request.” He leans a bit closer to the screen, pushing his hair out of his face and licking his lips as he reads the request to you. “Your socks are cute but I want to see your pretty toes.”

“Mm would you take them off for me, Jinnie?” He sighs at the way that you make his name sound so sweet yet sexy at the same time. He’s already rock hard in his sweats from how close you are to him, he can’t possibly handle your pretty voice saying his name like that too

“Ask me again.” Actually, he can take it. He’ll definitely explode later but right now he wants to take all that he can get. “You sounded so sweet the first time I just need to hear it again.”

“What if I'm not sweet this time?” 

“Indulge me, Princess.” A mindless giggle escapes you as you lean in and run your fingers through his hair. You stop right when your lips brush the shell of his ear and whisper. 

“Will you please take them off for me…” You suck in a slow breath and Hyunjin’s eyes flutter shut for just a second. “Your majesty .” His eyes squeeze shut and he folds forward in a fit of laughter that you quickly reciprocate.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” He sits up, trying to catch his breath the best he can so that he can fulfill your request.

“Then you should have no problem fucking me dumb.” You fake a pout at him through your laughter.

 “Come here.” You bend your knees, bringing your feet to his lap to give him better access. Your laughter quickly dies down when you get a feel of his hard cock under the soles of your feet. It would be a shame not to help him with that. As Hyunjin removes one of your socks you press the ball of your naked foot against his clothed shaft lightly, just enough for a delicious hiss to escape him. 

He moves to remove your other sock and you repeat your previous actions, pressing against his hard cock with the other foot and then following with both. Hyunjin's hands run over the tops of your feet as he watches you massage his dick over his pants. It’s too subtle for your mic to catch but you can hear his breathing start to pick up as you work against him. “Pretty.”  He mumbles, his voice thick with desire. You grin at him lazily, the effects of both strains of weed is starting to hit you a bit harder now that the heat between you and Hyunjin is starting to pick up. 

“You think my toes are pretty?”  He nods, his eyes darkened with lust. One of his hands runs up your calf, his grip gentle but firm. You arch your back, pushing your hips forward and inviting him closer while he leans in, bringing one of your feet up to his mouth with a feather light grip on your ankle and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your foot. A shiver runs down your spine as you watch him. 

“So pretty.” His voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough for your mic to pick up but quiet enough to know that he’s talking to you and only you. It’s like he’s forgotten about the chat and if he is to be completely honest, he did, just for a moment. The feeling of your foot pressed against his dick is so intoxicating, how could he not? “Can I suck them?”

“I’ve never done that before.” The wide nervous smile and breathy chuckle that follows your confession leaves Hyunjin smiling too. He presses another kiss to the top of your foot, this time it’s sloppier and it sends another chill down your spine, are you into this?

“Do you want to try it?” You’ve never felt shy when doing a cam before. Not even when you first started, so why are you covering your eyes and giggling like a drunk teenager at the mention of having your toes sucked? “Aren’t these feet just too pretty, chat? Shouldn’t they be worshiped appropriately?”

I’d give anything to be Princess right now Such pretty feet need to be praised

Hyunjin’s question received more than a few comments back and nearly double the amount of tips but truthfully, you were already sold the minute that he asked to do it. Who in their right mind would say no to having those beautiful blushed lips on them? 

“I’ll try it.” Your bright eyes meet Hyunjin’s for just a second as he silently asks for confirmation. You nod your head, a goofy smile on your face as you lean back on your palms. He presses soft sloppy kisses to the top of your foot, adding more pressure and tongue as he trails down. His eyes stay on yours when he kisses your pinky toe, adding so much tongue that he’s practically licking it into his mouth. Your smile drops as he does the same to the next toe, you watch with parted lips and bated breath as he sucks on the digit, swirling his tongue over your purple pedicure and effectively making you gush between your thighs.

“Why the fuck does that feel so good?” Your question comes out as more of a quivering moan than you meant for it to but you’re way too entranced in this pleasure to give a fuck about how you sound. 

He smirks, his eyes twinkling with a soft desire to unravel you further. “Because I'm good at it.” His lips and tongue leave a trail of wet heat as he continues, his slow and deliberate movements build you up perfectly. 

Something tells you that this is going to be a good show. 

You can't help but let out a sharp gasp as his lips close around your big toe. Why is that one ten times more sensitive? “Oh fuck.” Your eyes flutter shut and you throw your head back with your lips parted in a euphoric smile. You puff out a small sigh of relief followed by a mindless giggle as he continues to lavish attention on your toes. “This is my new favorite thing.”

“Having your toes sucked?” He plants a sloppy kiss on the top of your foot as he lowers it back to his lap. “Or having me suck them?” He moves his hands to your thighs and parts your legs he sinks the tips of his fingers into your thigh as he pulls you forward into his lap. You gasp at the sudden shift, trying your best to stifle a giggle.

“You can answer that when it’s just you and me if you want.” His hands move to grab at the curve of your ass and you smile down at him, we can’t let him have all of the fun can we? 

The moan that escapes Hyunjin when you wrap your hand around his throat and pull his face towards yours is enough to make your ego explode. It’s only now that he’s so close to you that you can see how his eyes have a faint red tint from the weed, they’re droopy and have the tiniest fucked out glaze to them as they stare back into yours. 

“You sure are talking a lot for someone who needs me on their cock.” You swirl your hips against him, pressing your soaked core against the tent in his pants. You can’t help to resent the clothes keeping you away from each other, you much rather be grinding on his bare length right now. “Shouldn’t you be begging for me instead?”

"Make me beg for it." His words huff out in a shaky breath, his large hands swiftly and mindlessly gripping your plush hips as you grind against him slowly. 

"Show me how much you want it." He attempts to lean forward and catch your lips with his but you dodge him a bit before he can reach you. “Use your words, baby.”

The second that you call him baby Hyunjin swears that he could melt in your hands. He’s no stranger to the sweet name but hearing it fall from your lips makes every other time someone has called him that feel bitter. “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

You halt all movement and he whines in protest. He attempts to buck up into you but you press down to stop him. “Let me hear you beg for me.”

 “Please let me kiss you, let me taste you.” His pleading voice is barely above a whisper. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his pounding heart is all that he hears as he awaits your response. Your hand slides up the back of his neck, lacing through his raven locks and pulling lightly. “Please, I need you.”

“You sound so pretty.”  You lean in and kiss him, smiling against him as he cups your face with both hands and deepens the kiss. His lips move over yours with a hunger that you’ve never experienced before.

 His rhythm is gentle yet desperate like he’s savoring the taste of you. Your hands run over his strong shoulders and trail down to explore each curve of his bicep. You brush your fingers over the muscles, moaning when you feel them flex beneath your fingertips, the simple reaction prompts you to grind into him a bit harder earning a pleased groan to vibrate through him. Your hands are caressing the smooth skin of his forearms when his tongue swipes across the seam of your mouth and you promptly grant him access.

 Your hands fall to rest on his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt into a fist and your brain blanks out, there’s not a single thought going through that pretty head once the taste of him floods your tongue. He tastes more like Soju than he does weed and there’s a hint of mint from the gum that he was chewing beforehand.

“Chat…” Hyunjin pulls back, his eyes stay on you while he talks to the audience that you completely forgot about. Forgetting that you’re live with hundreds of people watching seems to be a running theme tonight. “You think I should take her top off?” His eyes trail down the curve of your neck until they reach the hem of your strapless top that’s leaving very little to the imagination.

“It’s so tiny how the fuck does it stay on?” You laugh a bit harder than intended at his question causing your top to slip down a bit. “Oh, fuck can you do me a favor? Bounce in my lap, I wanna see your top fall down.”

“You want me to bounce in your lap?” You coo with a sweet yet teasing tone. “Like this?” You bounce lightly, grinding down on his pulsing erection each time you come down.

“Shit, baby, please.” You continue to bounce in his lap lightly, feeling your top slip down little by little. 

“Is this how you want me to ride you, Jinnie?” You bat your lashes at him, his hands find a home on your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh. 

“Such a fucking tease.” The smile on his face quickly dissolves once your top finally gives way, you continue to grind against him slowly as he takes in the sight. “ Gosh, you’re gorgeous.” 

One of his hands slides up the curve of your waist and cups at your bare breast, kneading the mound slowly while pinching and twirling your nipple. It doesn’t take long for his other hand to follow suit. “Shit, they’re sensitive.” You moan at the contact, whining a bit when he pinches harder.

“Yeah? Can you cum from this, Princess? Gonna soak my lap from getting your nipples pinched?” You whimper, arousal flooding your - already ruined - shorts as you arch into his touch. “ Her shorts should come off next, shouldn’t they, chat?”

“Nuh uh, Your shirt is next.” 

“Can’t wait to get me naked, huh?” He reluctantly moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion and revealing his beautifully built body to you. Hyunjin doesn’t usually get completely naked for his cams, eighty percent of the time he’ll keep his shirt on or just pull down his jeans enough to free his cock but he agreed to do it with you when the two of you were talking about your limits. “Happy?”

“Very.” You mindlessly run your hand over his chest, taking in every bit of him. You’re interrupted by the warm feeling of his hands snaking up your thighs and messing with the hem of your shorts. He taps your outer thigh twice, his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as he waits for you to follow his silent command. “Can't wait to get me naked, huh?”

You mimic his previous statement and he offers a dark and airy chuckle in return. The banter between you two is not helping how hard he is right now. He’s always liked that about you, he likes that you always have something to say back. “Damn right.” 

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, keeping steady eye contact with Hyunjin as you remove them. He moans at the sight of you bare before him, the previous petting your thighs has turned into him digging into the soft flesh in an attempt to control himself. “No panties, Princess?”

“They’d just get ruined.” You grab at the hem of his sweats, fumbling with the drawstring and trying to not make your desperation too obvious. Once you undo the bow he helps you pull his pants off of his hips only to find him bare underneath. “No underwear, Jinnie?” He smiles, chuckling a bit with a shrug.

“You’d just rip them off of me anyway.” You laugh loud, hitting his arm and throwing his sweats to the side. 

“I would not!” Hyunjin follows up with a joke that you only half laugh at, you’re way too busy taking in the sight of his dripping cock resting against his toned abdomen, how is this man even real? Hyunjin catches on shortly after, taking a chance to enjoy the flawless view of you.

His cock jumps once his eyes land on your glistening core, wet and ready for him to ruin, he has half a mind to just turn off the camera and carry you to your bedroom where he can enjoy you without the prying eyes of your viewers who you both forgot about the second that you got undressed, or maybe it was sometime before that, when was the last time that you looked at the chat? A familiar text tone pulls you out of your thoughts and hurls you back into reality. This is a cam show. 

You don’t even need to look at your phone to know who texted you. You’ve got Felix’s text tone memorized. He attends every one of your shows and watches the chat to make sure that no one gets out of hand and you do the same for him when he goes live. Tonight he’s accompanied by Hyunjin’s stream mod and roommate Changbin.

 You assume that Felix texted you to tell you just what you were thinking a second ago, you need to look at the chat. You force your attention over to your laptop screen, trying your best to focus on the comments and tips flooding in left and right. 

“Jin is distracting me from the chat.” You tease, leaning in to read some comments.

They are in their own world Princess is going to ruin him I want him to look at at me like that

“You’re distracting me too.” He pulls you towards him by your hips so that you're straddling him with his cock pressed against your core. “Are you guys enjoying the show so far?” He asks after you send him a playful glare.

The chat lights up with comments and requests. Hyunjin knows that he should pick a request to entertain the audience. He knows that some people want to see him do specific things to you and you to him but he can’t help but to feel a bit selfish right now. He’s been dreaming about being this close to you for weeks. He doesn’t want to spend his time doing things that others request. He wants to savor you. 

“I know I’m enjoying it.” You turn your attention back to Hyunjin, your eyes run over his features, taking in his soft lips and his shining droopy eye. He licks over his bottom lip as he looks you over too. Your eyes are barely drooping despite being high, your lips are kiss bitten and barely glossed but the red tint is still visible and it’s smudged onto your cheek ever so slightly. Just what he wanted.

“I’m sorry…” Hyunjin mumbles as he switches focus between your lips and your lust glazed eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t pay attention to chat right now.” His lips are on yours in an instant, punctuating his sentence with a heated kiss. You gasp at the sudden impact, your heart racing as your tongue tangles with his. Hyunjin pulls away for just a second, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “Can I fuck you now, baby? Can I fuck you like nobody’s watching.”

“You wanna play with me, Jinnie?” You whisper back as your arms wind around his neck.

“Until you break.” He dives back in, moving one of his hands to cradle the back of your head as he tastes you. You pull him closer until your chest is flush with his and you can feel the vibration of your shared moans rattling between you. You reach between your bodies with whatever space is left, lifting yourself up just enough to position him without breaking the kiss. He groans once he feels the head of his cock brush against your dripping slit, he breaks the kiss and leans back to take in the sight of his cock stretching your cunt. “That cunt is so fucking sloppy.” His eyes roll back as you sink down on him and he drinks in every second of your cunt swallowing each thick inch of his throbbing length. 

“O-oh, fuck.” He closes the gap between the two of you again with his hands on your hips to help guide you down. He leans his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he fills you to the brim. Once you take him to the hilt you pause to catch your breath but Hyunjin has other plans. You cry out when you feel the tip of his dick kiss your cervix just right. The stretch of him is unlike anything - or anyone - you’ve ever felt before. 

“Tiny fucking cunt taking my cock so well. ‘S fucking made for me isn’t it, Princess? This cunt was made for me to fuck.” You move in tandem, timing when to swirl your hips so that he feels impossibly deep. You know that Hyunjin is the type to talk dirty during sex, you’ve watched enough of his cams to imagine what he might be like. You’re usually no different but the way that he feels inside of you is so dizzying that you might not be able to keep up with him tonight. The sweet buzz of the weed and soju makes everything feel like it could have you floating at any second. Even just trying to remember his name or your own for that matter is a full time job that your brain keeps clocking out of.

“J-just for you baby… god, this pussy is yours just please don’t stop.” Your fucked out eyes stare into his as you start to take more control, the sound of your skin colliding echoes as you bounce in his lap. His hands stay on your hips, periodically squeezing the flesh when you clench around him just right. Sweet whines and chants of ‘ah ah ah’ fall from your lips but you become muted when Hyunjin sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and lightly bites it. He plants broken kisses as you arch into his hand tracing the length of your spine. He had to get you to be quiet, if you keep moaning like that this show won’t last very long. 

“You know I could have you however I want, right?” He groans as he practically melts beneath you. “I could pick you up and ruin this pretty cunt but I want you to use me. I want you to use my cock in front of all of them.” His hands fall from your back and settle on your ass. The soft flesh in his hands has him holding on for dear life. What the hell are you doing to him? He’s never felt this good before. He needs you off of him now or else he’s going to explode.

 “Fuck, baby.” He lands a firm smack that draws a whimper from you. “Come here, show that pretty ass to the camera.” He lifts you up mid stroke and turns you around, your ass and dripping hole on display for more than a hundred people to see. The thought of it makes you bite your lip as Hyunjin reaches over you to jiggle your ass for the camera, leaving a bruising slap on either cheek as he pleases.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” He spreads your cheeks and leans over with puckered lips. Letting a stream of spit fall from between them and onto your asshole. He watches as it runs down and mixes with the sticky arousal of your pussy then drips down to pool on the sofa. A curse escapes him when he brings a finger up to tease your tight hole, rimming it gently then trailing down to tease your fluttering pussy. 

“Jin.” A mindless whimper escapes you and Hyunjin hums a  moan in response. He wants nothing more than to taste you, he’d make you cum while he plays with both of your holes but he wants to take his time with that. He can’t give you rushed head, you deserve better than that so he’ll settle for sinking his finger into your pussy with his thumb rubbing at your pretty puckered hole. “Oh my god.”

“Think I should add another finger chat?” Tips flood in as soon as the question leaves his mouth. You wiggle your ass at the camera earning a chuckle and a light ass slap from Hyunjin. “My eager princess, want another?” You nod, drawing out an excited hum that promptly fades into a moan once his middle finger slips into you. He fucks into you, pressing against your walls and sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His other hand trails up your back and you arch for him, pushing your ass into his hand. Your moans echo through the room like a porn site on loud speaker.  

“Jinnie I'm gonna - gonna -” He slaps your ass, sending you into a broken moan. 

“Go ahead and make a mess for me, baby.” You’re coming undone before you can process it. He fucks you through it, massaging your sweet spot and drawing out your climax. You collapse onto his lap, eyes closed as you try to catch your breath. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.” A smug smirk pulls at Hyunjin’s lips as he repeats the comment that he was able to catch before it went zooming by in the messy chat.

 Your eyes flutter open with the intention of looking up at him and throwing a smart remark his way but his throbbing cock resting against his stomach is too close for you not to pay attention to. Hyunjin is running his fingers through your hair as he’s still trying to read the chat. He’s so engrossed in that that he only half notices when you move closer to his cock, sliding it into your mouth with a content hum

“Oh baby, oh fuck” His hand rests on the back of your head, instinctively guiding you as you take all of him and allow his tip to abuse the back of your throat. He marvels at the stretch of your pretty lips around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. “Please don’t stop, don’t stop.” He pants above you, his eyes are glued to your watering ones as you blink up at him and bat your thick lashes. You swallow around him with each bob of your head and use your free hand to pay attention to his balls. You massage them gently, covering them with the spit that dribbles down from the hilt of Hyunjin's cock.

“You have no idea how good you are at that. You have no fucking clue, do you? I’d give you anything, I’d do anything just to feel this pretty mouth on me all of the time. Holy shit, Princess.” You choke around him when he pushes your head down a bit, holding you there for a second to indulge in the way your throat squeezes him. A tear rolls down your cheek and Hyunjin wipes it away with his thumb. He brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, keeping his eyes on yours as he swirls his tongue around the digit. You whimper around him and he throws his head back at the sensation. “You’re gonna make me nut if you don’t stop. I don’t wanna bust in your mouth, I wanna fill your pussy.”

He makes a fist around your ponytail when you don’t stop, pulling your head back with a grunt. “Don’t fucking listen.” You offer him a messy smile, sticking your tongue out in an attempt to catch his dick in your mouth again. He takes the base of his dick between his fingers and slaps the tip on your tongue. “Filthy girl, so pretty. Look at me, Mhmm keep those eyes on me, fuck you’re unbelievable.” He groans, pushing into your mouth and moving his hips in slow circles. You gag slightly as he pushes deep, his grip around your ponytail tightening as he fucks your face. 

“You’re gonna drive me insane.” He pulls your head back again, a single string of spit keeps the two of you connected but it’s broken when he turns your head to the camera. “You liked being dirty for me in front of them? You see how many people are watching you suck my cock.” Arousal gushes between your thighs and you press them together as the intoxicating feeling of embarrassment creeps up and paints a blush over your cheeks.

“I love it.” You hum and he smiles down at you sliding his thumb into your mouth “You’re a dream.” You smile around his finger, swirling your tongue around the tip then releasing it with a faint pop.

 “Wanna lay down for me? Let me fuck you dumb?” You’re pulling yourself into position before he even finishes the question. The sudden urgency in your actions earns you a faint chuckle and a quick kiss to your forehead as you get comfortable. He gets up on his knees and slots himself between your legs. You bring them up to rest on his shoulders and he plants sloppy kisses along your calf while he strokes himself against your entrance, teasing your clit with his tip. 

“How ya feeling, Princess. You got a bit quiet on me earlier.” 

“I’m literally seeing stars.” Your loud laughs echo through the room and rumble through the mic in front of you. “I’m good, just on cloud nine.”

“Am I your favorite collab?” The answer is yes but you’ll never admit that to him, especially not while you’re live. Truthfully this barely even feels like a collab. It just feels like you and your boyfriend fucking in front of a camera. Wait, boyfriend…? What are you even thinking? Are you catching more feelings for him right now? Ugh, okay, you gotta sort that out later. 

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” You lightly push his chest with your foot before resting it back over his shoulder. He chuckles and kisses the inside of your ankle. “Just fuck me.” 

“My pleasure, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna slip into this pussy nice and slow.” He runs his pointer finger between your slick folds and your back slightly arches off of the mattress. “Then you’re gonna cross your ankles over my chest and I'm gonna hold them.”

“Is this supposed to be some type of forbidden position?” He rolls his eyes, laughing at you as you smile up at him. “It’s gonna make that tiny cunt of yours feel even tighter.” 

You take a shaky breath in as he starts sinking into you. It feels like there can’t possibly be enough air in your lungs. They’re burning but you willfully ignore it. “Oh, come on baby, this messy cunt takes me so well.” His voice is thick with aroused exasperation as he fills you. He halts his movement for a second to allow you to adjust. “Breathe for me.”

You suck in a slow breath but that’s all in vain when he starts rocking into you. “Hyunjin” Your eyes roll back as you moan his name repeatedly. It’s amazing how perfect he feels, like he was made specifically to be inside of you.

 “Cross your legs, baby.” You do as you’re told, moving slowly as you adjust to his languid strokes “That’s it.” His gentle pace only lasts another second or two before he starts getting more reckless. He brings his hand up to his mouth and bites on his bent finger while your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. 

“Oh what the fuck, Jin. What the fuck.” The moan that escapes you is desperate and nearly has a primal ring to it. The pressure on your clit for your legs being crossed mixed with him feeling as deep as he does is a recipe to blinding orgasm. 

“You’re so fucking - Oh my god, you’re the only person I ever wanna fuck. This cunt is mine, can it be mine Princess?” He settles into an unrelenting tempo, he grips your thighs with both hands to steady himself while his desperation sets in. “Tell me it’s mine please, please please.”

“Y-yours, all yours, fuck me like I’m all yours.” A deep groan rumbles through him, That’s exactly what he wanted to hear. He wants to be yours and he wants you to be his. He wants to be the only one who gets to feel like this. The only one who makes you cream on their cock. You look so pretty, you sound so pretty, fuck you’re so pretty. 

You turn your face towards the camera so that they can get a better look at you, eyes crossed and drooling onto the sofa.

“My brainless baby is drooling?” A broken moan interrupts him.  “My cock really got you fucking dumb, huh?” 

“I wan’ your cum, Jinnie, please. Need it. Need it inside.”

“You want it? Baby’s gonna milk my cock, huh? Gonna make me creampie that cunt. Shit - I’m close.” You clench around him and he swears that he can feel his soul leaving his body. He pushes all the way in, hitting spots that you could never reach alone. Your orgasm comes into sight when he hits your cervix just right. “You gonna take it, baby? Gonna take all my - fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

 “Don’t.” He groans, slowing down a bit but you whimper in protest. “Keep fucking me like that, p-please please. Deep like that, you’re so deep like that, fuck - please.”

“Pri-princess, I can’t - fuck, I can’t”  He whines and buries himself deep into you, hips stuttering as he gets closer and closer to losing control. 

“Don’t you d-dare cum, Jinnie. Don’t.” You press your thighs together in a desperate attempt at reigning in your orgasm. The pleasure build inside you, slowly creeping up your spine before it hits you all at once. Your body tenses as shockwaves rush over you and your walls spasm and contract around him.

“Holy shit, baby I can’t fucking take it.” His movements become erratic as he tries to help you ride out your high but the feeling of you flooding his cock throws him over the edge. His orgasm hits him like a freight train and he throws his head back and practically screams above you. He bites his lip in a desperate attempt to quiet himself but his efforts are not enough to keep his moans of euphoria at bay.

 He empties himself inside of you until his seed is spilling out in a helpless attempt to escape your plugged pussy. You uncross your legs from his chest and let them plop against the sofa once he releases his death grip on your thighs. With the lack of support Hyunjin falls forward but he catches himself before he collapses on top of you, his hips shake as he comes down from his high. Sweat drips down and runs along the valley of your breasts as he hovers above you and tries to catch his breath. You stay still, your body still trembling as the aftershocks of pleasure course through you. You stay like that until he finally pulls himself out and collapses next to you. 

Only your labored breaths can be heard throughout the room as you try to fill your lungs but that’s easily drowned out by the sounds of your hammering heart pulsing in your ears when you feel Hyunjin move next to you. 

He’s holding your hand.

His fingers intertwine with yours, giving you a light squeeze and you smile at the gesture, the butterflies in your stomach erupt into a clumsy swarm as the two of you lie in silence for a while longer.. 

“So.” Hyunjin breaths out, propping himself up onto his elbow so that he can look down at you. “Are you impressed?” You push him down with a laugh and roll over on top of him.

“I am impressed.” You lean down and catch his smiling lips in a slow and soft kiss. You both sigh into it, his hands tracing up your sides as yours run down his chest. You break the kiss with a smile and whisper. “Your majesty.”

“If you’re the Princess what does that make me?” Hyunjin teases with a smile and you stare down at him with a surprised blush. You attempt to hide your face in his neck and roll off of him but he pulls you in for another kiss before you can make your escape. The two of you melt into the exchange, getting so lost in each other that you don’t hear Felix’s text tone going off. Actually, you haven’t heard it go off for the past ten minutes that he’s been texting you. Changbin has been texting Hyunjin for the same amount of time if not a bit longer but the two of you have been so deep in your own world. Right now nothing and no one but the two of you exist. You’re both completely and totally enamored with each other and you have no problem with everyone knowing that…Except no one will know that. Why?

Because the livestream disconnected twenty minutes ago.

Thank you reading! Please like and share, it makes my day!

ASLO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse ❣️

[avatar-anna]

Champagne Problems

so...this is super long, the longest fic i've written in a hot minute. like 18.k words long. i wasn't going to post it until part two was underway, but i'm kind of excited to share it. here is the aftermath of champagne problems...

Part Two

*.*

"Don Perignon, you bought it, no crowd of friends applauded, your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems."

Your fingers moved across the keys of the grand piano as you mumbled softly to yourself, only loud enough that the voice recorder on your phone would pick up on it. This wasn't your typical method of songwriting, you weren't even sure there was a song to actually write; but the melody had been haunting you for days, pressing against your mind until you finally sat down and played it.

It wasn't often you thought of the events that occurred a year and a half ago. You usually did everything in your power not to think about that night, knowing that nothing ever good came out of dwelling on that particular wrinkle of your past. You only looked forward, sometimes hoping that if you didn't think about what happened, your memories of the worst night of your life would eventually disappear from your mind altogether.

But there was something about this melody that brought that night to the forefront of your memory. You'd played it over and over on the piano for a few minutes, waiting for the words to come. Your mind kept circling back to the past, and after trying to avoid it, you finally let emotion win out. No one was in the studio with you anyway, it would be safe to unlock that particular box. Just for a few minutes.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked up in the head," you said to yourself, the last part coming out as an afterthought. You laughed a little to yourself, remembering the disapproving stares and the whispers behind your back that people always thought went unnoticed by you. "But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shed."

Despite knowing that leaving your would-be fiance was the right choice for you, breaking up with him was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It still hurt to remember that night, to recall the look of absolute devastation on his face when you stopped him from reaching into his pocket for the little velvet box you knew was in there. He didn't deserve to be wrecked so thoroughly, especially by someone like you. He had been sweet and kind and gentlemanly. He treated you like a princess and defended you to his family when they didn't approve. He was everything a man should've been to you and more.

And all you could do in return was prove his family right.

You stopped murmuring lyrics for a moment, letting that last thought float through the empty room on somber notes. You thought about your ex now, wondering where he was now and hoping he was well. You hoped he was in love and happy, that he'd forgotten all about you. He deserved all the best things that love could grant a person. You wanted that for him. You wanted someone who had the capacity for the kind of love he wanted to give.

Repeating the last few lines again, the next few thoughts came pouring out of you, the words carrying a bittersweet taste to them.

"Your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my Champagne problems."

The song tapered off soon after that, and you realized there was nothing left in you to say. You felt lighter afterwards, as if pushing some of those long-forgotten memories out of you and onto the grand piano eased the weight you'd been carrying around on your shoulders for the last eighteen months. Quickly stopping the recording, you set a reminder on your phone to listen to it tomorrow and write down everything you'd said. The recording itself was lengthy, long pauses stretching between lyrics as you worked through your memories and attempted to vocalize them. Hopefully something was there to actually mold into verses and a chorus, if not, it was a rather odd but surprisingly satisfying therapy session.

Gathering your things into the bag at your feet, you stood up from the piano, stretching your arms above your head. It was easy to get lost in a good melody, but your poor body always paid the price if you spent too much time bent over a guitar or piano.

It was as you stretched that you realized someone was at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching as you shouldered your bag and slipped your shoes back on your socked feet. He didn't say anything as you walked over to him, just stepped out of the way so you could walk out of the studio. Harry normally wasn't this quiet, in fact, he could be quite the chatterbox if the mood struck him. But his silence told you he'd probably heard more of your session than you would've liked. Because one thing Harry liked to do in all his chattering was pepper you with questions about yourself, which was annoying since you were constantly trying to have him not get to know you.

"Coffee?" was all he said as you walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The sleeve of his patterned sweater brushed against your arm, and you resisted the urge to lean into him. He always wore the coziest clothes when in the studio, and it made you want to walk just a little bit closer to his side, for no other reason than the feel of soft material on your arm and not the person wearing them.

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

Harry qucikly pressed the button when you reached the elevator, and you couldn't help but laugh a little. In the time you'd spent not getting to know him, you discovered that he was the kind of person that just had to press the elevator buttons. It didn't matter how many people he was with, it was like he took joy in something as simple as getting to press a button and watch it light up beneath his finger. He'd actually speed-walked to get ahead of you a couple times just so he could press the down button. It was kind of annoying, and perhaps a little childish, but you'd surprisingly grown to find it endearing. A quirk of Harry's that just made him who he was.

The ride down the elevator was quiet, and it wasn't until you were out on the street that he finally spoke. "I'm thinking about getting a pet."

You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable questions about the song you'd been recording, and when they didn't come, your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, though you were sure Harry noticed. "Really?"

"Yeah. All my friends are disgustingly in love," Harry said with a playful shudder. "I'm feeling like a third wheel most days, so I thought I would seek companionship of the furry variety. Wait, that came out wrong. I didn't mean—"

You chuckled at his stuttering, at the flush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks. "I know what you mean," you said, sparing him any more embarrassment. "So what are you thinking then? Dog? Cat? Hamster?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," he said, quickly recovering from his chagrin. "I'm not sure I have the time necessary to devote to training a puppy, but I'm also worried about getting a cat and it absolutely hating me, and..."

You listened as Harry explained in great detail the pros and cons of each kind of domestic animal one could have. He spoke animatedly with his hands, looking at you with those big green eyes of his, as if to make sure you were following his train of thought.

You never planned on befriending Harry, and even now you weren't sure that whatever was going on between you was considered a friendship. You'd always been the type to keep to yourself, especially after what happened with your ex. You'd not only lost him after the break up, but friends too, friends who thought that what you did to your ex was despicable and reprehensible and not worth keeping a friendship over, picking sides when you hadn't realized there were any. It hurt to lose so many people in one fell swoop, and you decided soon after that you were better off alone. Except for your brothers of course, but all of you kept so busy that it was hard to keep track of one another on a good day.

Outside of them, you realized it was hard to hurt someone when there was no one around you to hurt.

But Harry was different. You'd seen him around the building where you worked on your songs—in the hallways, waiting for the elevator (after pushing the button, of course), at the vending machine, on your way out of the studio or while he was entering it to start his session. The first thing you noticed was that he was never alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The first thing you really noticed was his smile, how it lit up his entire face and showcased the most adorable dimples you'd ever seen. But since you refused to admit that, the first thing you noticed was that he was never alone.

Harry was always coming and going with one or two or sometimes three people around him. He was always engaged in some kind of conversation, his head always turned as he listened aptly to what his friend was saying. It seemed so odd to you that he was hardly ever by himself. It was like a foreign language to you, and you imagined your constant solitude felt the same to him.

"Anytime you want to weigh in here would be great."

"If you want a pet, get one," you said simply.

Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door to the coffee shop a couple blocks down the street from the building where you both worked, as if he was expecting anything other than your usual direct way of speaking. "If you don't keep this conversation going, then I'm going to have to ask about that incredibly depressing song you were working on, so please, indulge me in the great pet debate of twenty-eighteen."

For the most part, Harry was a pretty easy going guy. He had no problem carrying a conversation, and knew when not to pry. As the months went by, though, he knew how to get you to talk, how to find trap doors in the fortified walls you kept around yourself before you even knew they were there. It would be frustrating if his questions didn't always come with an endearing smile.

So you shrugged, eager to steer clear of any topics regarding your past. "I don't know, I'm a little biased. I've always been a dog person. Buddy's my best friend."

"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that I am not your best friend, and second, since when do you have a dog?"

The conversation paused while you and Harry went up to the counter to order you coffees. Both of you went there enough that the staff knew what you liked—dirty chai for you and an americano for him. It also meant you didn't have to deal with the barista having a mini-freak out at the realization that Harry Styles was in their coffee house. People tended to interrupt your conversations with Harry regularly—on the street, in line for coffee, at the table—but he never seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and indulged in a couple minutes of conversation and the occasional picture before waving goodbye. He always apologized to you afterward, but after the first couple times it happened, you waved him off. None of it was actually his fault, and seeing him interact with his fans became something you actually enjoyed watching. And it was perhaps a very small reminder as to why you preferred to just write songs for other artists, not perform them. You didn't need that kind of attention. For Harry, he seemed to come alive like a flower in bloom.

You? You would probably just wilt.

When you and Harry sat down with your drinks, he raised his brows for you to continue. Wrapping your hands around your cup, you shrugged again. "I've had Buddy for about a year now."

"What kind of dog?"

"Mostly pitbull, I think. I found him in an alley behind a restaurant once, and I know what shelters do to pitbulls, so I adopted him."

You'd come to think of the whole thing as Buddy finding you.

"And you named him Buddy?"

"Yeah, I don't know, after Buddy Holly I guess." You'd grown up listening to classic rock because your brothers did, and the name just kind of made sense to you. And he was just so cute, he was your little buddy. Big buddy now, you supposed. You thought he deserved the cutest name for the cutest boy in your life.

The rest of your time in the coffee house was filled with chatter, mostly from Harry. He talked a little more about the Great Pet Debate, then about the project he and his team was working on. An album, though they were only just getting started seeing as Harry just came back from tour. He tried peppering you with the occasional question, knowing if he asked too many you'd clam up and shut down. It was almost like Harry knew that you were fighting getting to know him, but that it wasn't just him, it was everyone. He was patient with you for some reason, though, seemingly content to chip away at the brick walls around you. Even if all he had was a spoon.

"So...What were you working on at the studio?" Harry finally asked.

You knew it was coming, so answering didn't seem so daunting. "I'm not really sure. The melody had been in my head for days, and I finally decided to play around with it."

"A perfect non-answer from Y/n L/n, everyone," Harry said, though you knew he was joking. His eyes were crinkled with mirth as he hid behind his cup, his brows raising to give you a knowing look.

Nothing about your past was easy to talk about, so you just didn't. After your breakup, you didn't even tell your brothers the finer details, not wanting to relive it or face all their questions. It all brought you an overwhelming sense of shame and despair. But maybe there had been something cathartic about your session today and it left you feeling lighter and open because you found yourself sharing more with Harry.

"It...reminded of me and my ex, so I kind of just let it all out. I'm not even sure what I was doing constituted as songwriting, but," you looked down at your mug. "The melody dredged up some old memories, I guess."

"It sounded painful," Harry said, his voice taking on a soft, sincere tone.

You knew he meant well, but the sympathy made you skittish. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Right, of course," Harry said, catching on to your mood change. "Well, um, my friends and I are having a little get-together of sorts this Saturday. You should come."

"A party?"

"No. A get-together. Very different," Harry corrected.

It made sense, the last time Harry tried to invite you to a party his friend was throwing, you politely declined, claiming they weren't really your thing. They weren't, but it was more that having friends wasn't really your thing.

You wanted to say no again, but when you met Harry's eyes, something in you hesitated. His expression was open, earnest, like he would genuinely be upset if you said you wouldn't come. You didn't quite understand why he wanted to spend time with you so much. Maybe you felt a little bad for always pushing him away, or maybe you were actually warming up to him.

"I, um...that might be fun," you said, not sure if it was nerves or excitement swimming in your belly.

The way Harry's face lit up made saying you would come worth it.

After a few more minutes at the coffee house, you and Harry went your separate ways, but not before he made you promise to join you on one of your morning walks with Buddy Holly. Something must've been in the air today, because you found yourself nodding before heading down the street away from him.

On your way home, you got a phone call from your oldest brother Evan. "Hey, Evan. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"

"Just fine. It'd be a lot better if I got to see my kid sister more often. Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?"

Of your three brothers, Evan was the one who checked up on you the most. Perhaps that was the nature of being the oldest of four, but he had always been the most responsible, the one to keep you and your other brothers in line. Well, mostly your other brothers. But Evan had always looked out for you. He was the only one you told at length about your breakup. You'd confided in him all your life, and he was coincidentally the only one of your brothers you could count on not to go and beat up on your ex or his family.

"Flight's booked and everything," you told him. "Not sure if I can swing a trip to the lake house, though."

Despite your less than ideal upbringing, you and your brothers had all done pretty well for yourselves. No thanks to your parents, seeing as you all shared a dad who never liked to be with the same woman twice. But you and your brothers all stuck together through thick and thin, supporting and celebrating and sticking together despite the differing parentage between the four of you. And now you were all scattered, your brothers Andrew and Hayden were professional athletes and Evan was a bigshot lawyer. Once you moved out of your hometown, you really only saw your brothers for holidays. And the occasional surprise visit from Andrew, though that hadn't happened in a while.

"That's okay," Evan said. "Next time."

"Next time," you agreed. Then, "How's the family?"

"Good. Sammy's gotten so big. And Laura's already showing."

You grinned as you imagined Evan's family. He deserved a happy ending with a loving family after raising you and the idiots you called brothers. "Another team member for the family football game."

"Speaking of the family football game," Evan said, and you mentally cursed yourself. "Laura's been dying to know if she should set an extra spot at the table."

Immediately, your mind went to Harry, but you quickly whisked that thought away. "Nope. Unless Hayden's got a new girlfriend."

"Really? No one?"

You narrowed your eyes even though Evan couldn't see your expression. "Why are you fishing? Gossip is Andy's thing."

"What? I'm not fishing!" Evan spluttered, but you just scoffed and waited. Evan might've been a shark in the courtroom, but he'd always been terrible at lying to you. "Fine. Laura was reading one of her gossip magazines, and you know I don't pay attention to those, but you know, I might have seen someone who looks an awful lot like you pictured alongside a former boy band member."

Well, shit. You knew that was a reality of being Harry's acquaintance, but you'd always done your best to not pay any attention to it. So far it had done a good job, but now it was coming to bite you in the ass.

"It's nothing, Evan. He's an artist. I'm a songwriter. We work in the same building," you said.

"Fine! Fine," Evan said, and you could just picture him holding his hands up in surrender the way he'd done since you were a teenager. "I just thought I'd ask now and try to soften the blow. I'll just leave you to the wolves."

"Damn you, Evan," you muttered. Evan was the easy brother. It was Andrew and Hayden you had to look out for. They would interrogate you relentlessly, or worse, squeeze the life out of you until you caved. Sighing deeply through your nose, you said, "I will ask if Harry has plans for that weekend. And that is it."

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'll talk to you later."

"You love me!" Evan called just before hanging up.

The call ended just as you pulled up to your apartment. You sat back with a huff, marveling at the strings your brother managed to pull from thousands of miles away. But deep down, you knew Evan was just looking out for you. After everything that happened eighteen months ago, he'd been keeping a close eye. As close an eye as he could all the way from New York. But that was how things worked between you and your brothers. You all looked out for each other, and your older brothers acted as personal security guards to any and everyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. It was both endearing and very annoying.

Very annoying. Now you had to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. Evan was so going to get it.

*.*

On Saturday, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror longer than you normally would've. Harry had used the term "get-together" as a means to ease your nerves, but now that the dreaded day had come, you realized you weren't sure what that meant in terms of dress code. Was this thing laid-back? What if casual still meant dressy to Harry and his friends? Harry usually walked around the studio in jeans and faded t-shirts, but he was still a celebrity. He could see this as an opportunity to dress up.

You looked at all the clothes spread out in your room. You'd changed an embarrassing amount of times now, but nothing seemed fitting for the occasion. I could always text him, you thought, biting your nail as you surveyed the tornado of clothes around you. Harry had given you your number earlier this week so he could text you his address. You hadn't wanted to, as it would open the flood gates for conversation outside the studio, but you eventually gave it up when he stared blankly at you after offering your email as an alternative.

Before you could think too long about it, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text. Before you even had a chance to set it down, Harry sent a reply.

Harry S: We're just chilling at my house. Dress as comfortably as you'd like :))

Well, that wasn't helpful at all, you thought, but didn't say to Harry. You went back to rummaging through your pile of clothes, creating a spot for Buddy when he ambled into your bedroom from the kitchen. In the end, you settled on something simple: jeans, platform shoes, and a colorful fleece jacket over a plain shirt. It felt silly to have wasted so much time on your wardrobe when all you were doing was going to see Harry. And his friends. And that was...intimidating.

The anxiety of meeting Harry's friends, of meeting anyone new, crept through you. You didn't want to go and face the inevitability of disappointing them. Your track record with friends was pretty abysmal. But you found yourself kissing Buddy's head and promising you wouldn't be gone long, and then you were getting in your car and plugging in the address Harry had given you.

The music playing in your car calmed you some. Etta James' voice was both familiar and comfortable, welcome feelings as you pulled up to Harry's house. House was a bit of an understatement, though. Maybe a villa, or an estate. The LA version of those sprawling castles that were all over Europe. Your shoulders were tense as you cruised up the long driveway, though your anxiety eased a bit when you saw that had seen about as much life and mileage parked up front as yours did.

Music was playing inside the house, you could hear the trill of soft guitar and the low hum of a male voice from outside, and you worried if anyone would be able to hear you as you knocked on the door. Thankfully, you only stood on Harry's doorstep for a minute or two, then Harry's familiar grin greeted you.

"You made it!" Harry said, pulling you over the threshold and in for a quick side hug. He looked down at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed and green eyes bright, perhaps from drinking. He shook his head a little before pulling you further into the house. "Come in, come in, everyone is just through here."

Harry led you further into his home, giving you a chance to look around. Despite the grandeur of the outside, Harry's house was actually quite cozy and inviting. Everything was in warm tones, and potted plants and bookshelves piled high with a mix of books and records with titles you couldn't read from this distance. His house looked actually lived in, which couldn't be said for some of the other celebrity homes you'd been in. It didn't happen often as you preferred to work alone, but you occasionally dabbled in writing sessions with other artists. Their homes looked much more modern, and much more cold, than Harry's did.

"My home in London is much smaller," Harry said, noticing your craned neck. Then he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "But I liked the look of this place. It reminded me of a house I go to in Italy most summers."

"It's beautiful," you said. "I've always wanted to go to Italy."

"You've never been?"

You shook your head, admiring the arch leading into an open kitchen. "I was supposed to go for—"

For my birthday, you couldn't bring yourself to say. Gavin had planned a summer trip to Italy for your birthday, but that never happened. You surprised yourself by revealing that much, and by the way Harry's eyes lit up, you'd taken him by surprise too.

But he didn't press you to finish your thought. He just smiled and led you further into the kitchen. "Come on. You need a drink."

Harry talked while he fixed up your drink. He'd tried to persuade you to take a shot of tequila with him, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, a look on his face that you'd seen one too many times on your brothers when they were trying to stir up trouble. You declined with a laugh, opting for a glass of wine instead. Maybe a boring choice, Harry definitely thought so as he teased by saying, "Booooring!" but you needed to be sharp, and tequila tended to have the opposite effect, so red wine it was.

"Everyone's through here. I hope you like games because Kid brought a new one over and everyone has become quite invested."

Games? Is that what Harry Styles did on his evenings off? Play board games with his friends? Before you could ask, Harry led you into his living room, where everyone was in fact sitting around a rather spacious coffee table, a board game and playing cards spread out around it. It was a small group of about five or six. For some reason you expected more people, even though Harry said otherwise. They were all talking amongst themselves, talking strategy, you presumed, as you recognized the game as one of those territory-winning ones.

All the talking stopped, however, when Harry introduced you to the group.

You felt their eyes on you, judging, picking you apart where you stood. You began to curl in on yourself, wilting at the attention. Involuntarily, you took a step back, but Harry's hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting against you. You should've pulled away, but you didn't, thankful for at least some kind of familiarity among all the new.

It had been so long since you'd had to meet new people in a non-professional setting. You'd met with producers and artists and other industry people all the time, but there was always a wall of professionalism between you and them. You knew how to navigate that space with ease, but here, where people were sitting on pillows and holding playing cards, where you stood as the outlier among what was clearly a tight-knit group, you felt very much like a fish out of water. A fish in space.

"H—Hello," you managed to say, giving everyone a small wave.

One person got up. A young woman with short brown hair, winged eyeliner marking the corners of her eyes. Her smile was surprisingly warm, but what had your eyes widening even more was when she pulled you in for a hug, squeezing tight.

"I'm Sylvia," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?"

You probably shouldn't have said that, but you weren't expecting such a warm welcome.

"Harry talks about you constantly. I swear sometimes he purposely keeps you from us."

"That is not—That is not true," Harry said, speaking to you for a moment. He sounded serious, but his eyes were filled with amusement as if he was used to Sylvia's teasing.

Everyone else introduced themselves, and you tried to keep a smile on your face as you committed their names to memory. They were all part of Harry's "team" except for Sylvia—writers, producers, musicians. "And you?" you asked her as she pulled you down to sit next to her. Sylvia had insisted you be on her team while you learned how to play. She seemed nice, eager to get to know you, but you didn't trust it. Not yet.

"I'm a full-time mom most days, and a part-time life coach to this one," Sylvia joked. She seemed too young to be a mother, but you supposed they came in all shapes and sizes. "But I'm Harry's nutritionist. And friend when he's not being a pain in the ass."

There was a wry grin on the young woman's face that told you she was fond of Harry, and fond of teasing him, if said grin grew when Harry said, "Hey," was anything to go by. It eased your mind a bit, her kindness and obvious fondness for Harry. She spoke animatedly as she caught you up on the rules of the game and gossip from her yoga class. "They're all in love with that one, of course. Can't take him anywhere," she said with a nod in Harry's direction.

When you agreed to join Harry tonight, you figured you would spend your time with him. But Sylvia kept you occupied most of the evening, and he and his friends were rather invested in the game. You were content to watch, enjoying the playful bickering and shouts of surprise and celebration. It was interesting to see how they all interacted with each other. Harry and his friends sat and drank around his coffee table while you nursed your drink, observing with the sweet feeling of nostalgia swimming through your veins.

"Y/n?"

You jumped in your spot on the floor, your wine sloshing around in your glass a little. Thankfully, nothing poured out. You would've been mortified if you'd spilled red wine all over Harry's most likely exorbitantly expensive carpet.

Eyes flicking to a man with short blond hair, you said, "Sorry?"

Kid, you were pretty sure his name was, asked his question again. "Did you first start writing here in LA?"

"Uh...no. Nashville, actually," you said. "I lived in Nashville for a while before moving out here. But I...grew up in a small town just outside."

"You never told me that," Harry said, sounding both intrigued and a little hurt that you'd never shared that with him before.

Emboldened by your near-empty glass, you said, "You never asked."

That earned a few chuckles and a raised brow from Harry as if he'd just accepted a challenge you hadn't meant to create. But you read that look in his eyes with ease. Any look was quite easy to read from Harry. He was expressive, an open book. He was going to take this as an opportunity to ask you all the questions he'd been witholding.

Throwing back the rest of your wine, you avoided his eye and ignored the excited flip in your belly.

*.*

If it wasn't for your dog, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to keep up with Harry Styles and his impossibly long gait.

He'd kept to his word, insisting that he join you on one of your walks with Buddy Holly. It wasn't until a few days after you went to his house for the first time, but one morning before you usually headed into the studio, he texted and asked if he could join you for your morning walk with your dog. It took some convincing, which really only meant a series of uninterrupted texts until you finally relented.

Buddy took to Harry immediately, of course, though that wasn't a surprise, seeing as your dog was friendly with everyone. But it meant a lot to you that he seemed to like Harry so much. Buddy was a rescue, and you couldn't imagine the awful things he'd been through before you'd given him a proper home.

Now he walked on the sidewalk excitedly, pulling you on his leash as his stubby tail waved around wildly. Harry walked beside you, his curly hair pulled back with a little black claw clip, some of it sticking up in a cute tuft. As he walked beside you, you took the opportunity to study him. There was a little scruff on his cheeks and jaw, creeping down the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong and angular, his cheekbones sharp. Harry really was beautiful. You understood why so many people went so crazy for him.

"See anything you like?"

Warmth flushed your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead, even if the damage was already done. Harry rarely, if ever, caught you staring at him, mostly because it didn't happen often. But in the last few weeks, you'd found yourself admiring him more and more. The movements he made with his hand as he told a story, the mischievous glint in his eye when he made you laugh, the way his arms moved beneath his shirt, how his lips curled around a smile. You cataloged each mannerism, each vocal inflection, and after just a few weeks following that night at his house with his friends, you felt like you knew him quite well.

Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance as your eyes darted back to Buddy, who had stopped to sniff a tree.

You could feel Harry's gaze on you, but you tried not to squirm. His gaze pricked your skin, making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't have been feeling. It was uncomfortable and exhilarating, and you didn't like how much you were warming up to him.

Used to your wordless answers, Harry moved on. "You're making me rethink my decision to get a cat."

"You decided, then?"

"I think I'm more of cat person," Harry said. "Well that, and I think I've found the one, but I'm worried about all the traveling."

"It can stay with me," you said, eyes widening when you did. But it was true, you realized. You were close enough to Harry to promise that kind of thing.

"Well, in that case," Harry said, and you finally looked over to him.

His grin was wide as he looked down at you, and though you couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew they were more than likely squinted with mirth. You liked that smile, you realized. It was uninhibited, full of warmth and good intentions. You wanted to trust it, to give in to the friendship Harry was offering.

But you couldn't. Harry didn't deserve the abysmal companionship you offered in return, and you felt bad for leading him along when you knew you'd eventually fuck things up. You always did.

Your phone buzzing thankfully pulled you away from your thoughts. Looking at it, you saw a text from your brother, Hayden. You think Laura will be cool with a few football players in her house for Thanksgiving? it said, and you shook your head as you typed a quick reply, a small grin spreading across your face.

Hayden was only going to be in town the day of Thanksgiving, as he had a game the day after. You didn't think he would make it at all, seeing how full his schedule usually was, but he managed to squeeze it in. Apparently his game wasn't too far from Evan's house. As long as he, and his teammates now, didn't drink too much, they would be just fine.

You: I don't think so. Laura might put y'all to work around the house though.

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

Hayden: Because I can sit you next to one of my teammates.

Hayden: I take that back. Forget I said that. No teammate of mine is going near my sister.

Rolling your eyes, you stuffed your phone in your back pocket. Harry was looking at you with a curious gaze, and you scrambled to explain yourself. "My brother," you said. "Apparently he's inviting some of his football buddies to Thanksgiving this year."

"Does he play at university?" Harry asked. You could almost hear the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to learn more about you, and while sharing in general made you squirm, your brothers were fairly easy to talk about.

"He did. He's in the NFL now."

"Oh nice You must be—Wait what's his name?"

"Hayden?"

Harry stopped walking for a moment. When you tried to stop too, Buddy protested, tugging the leash, and the wrist you had wrapped around it pulled uncomfortably. Murmuring a quick apology, Harry kept walking, keeping pace with your energetic puppy.

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

You nodded. "I'm guessing you've heard of him then?"

A bark of laughter slipped from Harry's lips. You'd never seen him so caught off guard before. It was strange, but also a relief to know that someone as steady as Harry wasn't so unflappable all the time.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he said, "I think everyone has heard of him. Any other famous brothers I should know about?"

"I don't know how you quantify fame, but my other brother is in the NHL. He plays for a team on the east coast."

Andrew was the youngest of your family. Despite that, he still considered himself your older brother, which had always been annoying growing up, especially when you were taller than him for a few years. He was rather sweet for someone so aggressive on the ice. He spent a lot of time with his mom, but was still close to you, Evan, and Hayden. It was hard not to be when you all shared the same deadbeat dad.

Outside of Evan, you probably talked to Andrew the most. You were the closest in age and grew up going to school together, and while his main focus was hockey, whenever he was in town, he'd go with you to concerts to see whatever indie band you were into or treat you to tickets to a show at the arena he played for.

"You have a third, right?" Harry asked, and you weren't even surprised that he remembered even though you were sure you'd only mentioned it once or twice.

"Evan. He's a lawyer in New York, but he lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter," you said.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. You were looping back around on the trail, heading back to the park entrance where you'd met Harry this morning. Evan would pester you about it until you did, or worse, get Hayden and Andrew involved. You just had to throw it out there, be as casual as possible. Easy. You were all about being casual.

"So, um, he—Evan—he, um, said if I wanted I could invite a friend to Thanksgiving. If I wanted to."

"Oh yeah?" You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Swallowing thickly as you willed your cheeks not to flush, you continued to look at Buddy as you spoke. "You probably already have plans, but I just thought I would ask if you wanted to come. Laura, Evan's wife, is a great cook, and it's usually pretty low-key until football gets turned on. But no offensive aunts or uncles or anything like that. Just us."

That was definitely too many words, but the amused look in Harry's eyes didn't feel antagonizing. "I would love to, but um, I already promised my mum I would go home that week."

"Oh." You didn't mean to sound disappointed. It was a good thing that Harry was going home to see his mother. And him meeting your brothers for the first time all at once probably would've scared him out of talking to you in the studio, so really it was for the best. It was for the best. "That's okay. You must be excited to go home. How long has it been?"

"London? Not too long, but I'm headed back to Manchester, and my mum has not been shy in letting me know that it's been too long since..."

You listened to Harry the rest of the walk back, trying to fight off the disappointment gnawing inside you that he'd said no. You didn't want that feeling in you. You wanted to be indifferent. It's for the best. You repeated it over and over until you convinced yourself it was true.

*.*

"You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason, Champagne problems."

You scribbled in your notebook, crossing out words from the original recording and replacing them with better ones. You hadn't planned to go back to this song. After recording it on your phone, you figured it wouldn't see the light of day again. But something kept bringing you back to it. So you worked on it between other projects, playing around with the lyrics and melody in small doses so that the past wouldn't overwhelm you.

Guilt seeped into your bones as you recalled what happened eighteen, almost nineteen, months ago. Sometimes you wished you could forget everything you'd done, but other times you decided being forced to remember was part of your penance for causing so much pain. Gavin was a good man. He was so kind and so smart, he didn't have a cruel bone in his body. And you'd taken his goodness, you'd welcomed all his kindness, and crushed it in your hands.

Wiping away a tear, you shut your notebook definitively. Your session in the studio was far from over, but you were done for the day.

On your way out, you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your watery eyes. You could feel the tears building, and you hoped you could at least make it to your car before you turned into a mess. It was so hard sometimes. Some days you felt great. You would write good songs, take Buddy for a walk and teach him a new trick, you would get coffee with Harry and laugh, and everything would be fine. But then there were days where the mere thought of the past sent you careening off course, leaving you with nothing but the intrusive thoughts you thought you'd learned how to keep at bay.

Today happened to be one of those days, and you hoped you could escape and wallow in self-pity unnoticed. But before you could even make it to the elevator, you bumped into something solid and warm. Arms wrapped around you to hold you steady before you could spring back, and against your better judgment, you looked up, an apology poised on your lips.

"Y/n, are you okay? What's wrong?"

You should've known that you would be unlucky enough to run into Harry on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head and stepped out of his grasp, though that didn't make you feel any better. "I'm fine."

"You can talk to me," Harry insisted. His brows furrowed with concern, but he didn't come any closer. There was a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat covering up his hair, with only a few stray curls sticking out beneath it. He looked like he was just going into the studio for a session.

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, not wanting to be the reason he was late for studio time. "I'm just leaving for the day."

You tried to step around Harry, but his hands fell down on your shoulders. His gaze burned, but you couldn't make yourself look him in the eye. You knew the moment you saw the sympathy swimming in them you'd burst into tears.

"Please let me go," you said, but it came out as more of a squeak, your voice breaking on the last word.

To your surprise, Harry did, and even though that was what you'd asked for, what you wanted, you somehow felt worse. Shuffling around him, you mumbled a quick goodbye and bypassed the elevator, not wanting to wait awkwardly for it to come up while he was still in the hall. It wasn't until you finally got in your car that you let everything out, all the guilt and loneliness and self-loathing that you kept bottled up regularly.

So often you were able to pretend the past didn't exist. But then there were days where you were almost slapped in the face by the consequences of your actions. Negative thoughts followed you all the way home and into your bed. Not even hiding under the covers kept you from feeling everything all at once. Your mind spun as you thought of Gavin, of his elated grin crumpling into a look of betrayal as you told him you were ending it.

You remembered every detail from that night. The brand of Champagne Gavin bought for the would-be occasion, the woodsy cologne he wore, the looks on his friends' and family's faces as you hurried down the stairs to leave the party, unable to bear their shame and disapproval, or the heart you'd broken on the landing in his family's mansion.

You didn't know he was going to propose until mere moments before it happened. You had only been seeing Gavin for a few months, and things were good. He made you happy, and you liked having someone to go through life with. He liked to shower you with expensive gifts, for no other reason than to show you he cared and because he could. You didn't have the same kind of wealth he or his family did, not even with the substantial amount of money you made as a successful songwriter. But you'd write him poems and leave them places you knew he'd find them and looped your arm through his at company parties. Things were good.

Every year, Gavin's family hosted a Christmas party, and last year was the first time you'd been invited. You hadn't wanted to go, mostly because in the two weeks leading up to the party, you realized you weren't in the same place Gavin was emotionally, and you weren't sure you ever would be. But Gavin insisted, promising it would be fun and he wouldn't abandon you to his family, who had been nothing but cold since the moment he'd introduced them to you. So you went, sipping on Champagne in a glass made of crystal and wondering if the guilty pit at the bottom of your stomach would ever stop growing.

It was a couple hours into the party when you'd stumbled on a conversation between Gavin's mother and sister, one that made your blood run cold with dread.

"Did Gav really ask you for your ring?" his sister asked.

His mother nodded gravely. "He wants to do it tonight."

"What? That's ridiculous! They've barely been together a year!"

"I'm sure she would make a lovely bride, she's beautiful, I'll give her that," his mother conceded, but you could hear the disdain in her voice loud and clear. "It's just a shame that she's—"

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

"What? She is! She's a total basket case, and everyone can see it but him. She'll never make him happy. How could she? Putting a ring on it doesn't change a thing. Gavin would have a psych patient, not a wife. He deserves better."

The rest of the night was a blur, but you knew you couldn't wait. You didn't want to break up with Gavin on the night of his family's Christmas party, but if he was going to propose, you couldn't let him. The hurt would be so much worse if you had to slide the ring off your finger a week or two after the proposal.

Gavin called you for weeks afterward, begging you to help him understand. His family did too, and his friends, people you considered friends as well, but it was clear once there was a line drawn in the sand where everyone stood, and they didn't have any trouble letting you know how horrible you were for doing what you did. Sometimes when you let yourself get angry, you wondered why Gavin's mother and sister, or any of them really, were so aggressive about your break up. They'd never wanted you to be with him in the first place, and even though they'd gotten their wish, they still called you a heartless monster.

But above all that, Gavin's messages made the deepest cut. He sounded so devastated in each voicemail. And at first, all he wanted was to talk, to somehow work it all out as if it was one big misunderstanding. I know my family can be a lot, but I love you so much, he'd said in a text. We can go to Italy like we'd planned. Elope. Buy a little cottage and just start a new life somewhere else. Please, Y/n. Talk to me. I love you.

Messages like those were the toughest pills to swallow. You knew Gavin loved you, you never doubted that for a moment. The problem was you didn't feel the same. You didn't know why. You cared for Gavin a lot, and in the beginning, you had all those giddy, initial relationship feelings, but they never developed beyond that. And when you noticed Gavin's feelings growing more and more each day while yours didn't, you started to panic.

But it was when those messages turned angry, hateful even, that hurt the most. It was what you deserved after what you'd done, but to know that you'd turned one of the gentlest souls you knew into a spiteful one killed you almost as much as stopping him from getting down on one knee had.

In the midst of all your crying and hyperventilating, your phone buzzed. Wiping your eyes and nose, you lifted your phone to your face, squinting at the bright light.

Harry S: I know you probably want space, but I'm here for you xx

You shouldn't be, was your first thought, but all you texted back was, Just a bad day that's all.

Harry's response was almost immediate, as if he was waiting around for your reply.

Harry S: Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me :))

You sighed, feeling another wave of tears overwhelm you. The pressure of friendship weighed heavily on your chest. All you could offer was disappointment, and you couldn't stomach the thought of letting someone like Harry down. He was too good a person to be your friend. All you could offer him was disappointment and pain. You were toxic, and better off left alone.

You: We're not friends. I don't want to be your friend so just leave me alone.

*.*

Weeks went by and you were positively miserable. Thanksgiving came and went, and even your brothers could sense not to pry about your sour mood. Evan tried to get you alone, but you didn't want to talk. You didn't want to explain how you'd fucked things up so royally. Again. You didn't want his sympathy, or Hayden's promise to fight anyone who hurt you, or Andrew's cheesy jokes to lift your spirits. What you wanted had been all the way in England and had been giving you the cold shoulder. Just like you'd asked.

Harry stopped saying hi to you at the studio, which hurt more than you thought it would. In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't known him very long, but seeing him in the hallway and watching him purposely avoid you felt awful. You only had yourself to blame, but you thought it was better to let him down early on than further down the line. You couldn't have another Gavin situation on your hands.

But this felt entirely different. Even though you'd only spoken to Harry for a month, his absence from your life was more poignant than you expected it to be. When you ended things with Gavin, you felt guilty for hurting him, but ultimately, there was a sense of relief that you weren't leading him on, that crushing weight of his family's disapproval on your chest lifted. Breaking up with Gavin was hard, but it was the right thing to do for you, there was no doubt in your mind about that.

But this thing with Harry...you'd pushed him away when you were feeling vulnerable. A preemptive measure for the both of you, but there was no relief, no justifiable sense of rightness in your gut in the days following.

Part of you wanted to reach out to him and apologize, but you worried he hated you now and didn't know how to bridge the gap you created between the two of you.

Opportunity struck when you overheard a conversation between Harry and...Mitch. you were pretty sure that was Mitch from that night at Harry's house. It was about a week after you came back from your brother's house, and all three of them were constantly calling or texting despite their busy schedules. You wouldn't have put it past any of them to have set up times to routinely check in on you. It warmed your heart some, but nothing would feel right until you fixed things with Harry. Pushing him away had been a mistake, you saw that now. You'd done it in a moment when you were at your lowest, and that wasn't fair to either of you.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said to Mitch. "I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic before adopting a cat. I feel like an idiot now."

So he went ahead with his plan to get a pet, then. The thought made you smile, but you held it in. You were pressed into the corner of the elevator up to the studio. Harry was definitely aware of your presence, but he hadn't acknowledged you. Mitch gave you an awkward wave, but that was somehow worse.

"No worries, man," Mitch said now, stepping out of the elevator with Harry. He was in a white t-shirt and a light brown cardigan today, his curly brown hair looking beautifully windswept. You refused to think about the current state of your hair, which was hiding beneath a blue baseball cap. "I'll just have to—"

You never found out what Mitch would have to do because they rounded a corner of the hallway, leaving you alone outside the elevator. Quickly scurrying into your usual studio, you sat down at the grand piano, letting the smooth keys cool your sweaty palms. You felt breathless, but it wasn't the usual anxiety-ridden breathlessness you were used to. This felt different, your heart speeding up at the thought of Harry's broad shoulders beneath his sweater.

"Pull yourself together, Y/n," you told yourself.

The damage was done—once again, at your hands, but you couldn't help that right this second. Right now you had work to do.

The next day, you did something you didn't normally do—venture outside of your studio. Since working in the building, you'd never thought to explore the other rooms, to introduce yourself or make friends the way Harry had with you. As you walked down the long hallway of closed and half-open doors, you wondered who was behind them, what kind of projects were being worked on right now.

Most importantly, you wanted to know which door Harry sat behind.

After a day of writing, of trying to lean into more positive feelings, the small hope you had for a brighter future. You left the studio feeling lighter after another introspective session. There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, both of these things can be true, you'd written, forming your thoughts around a melody that was both somber and hopeful. That moment when you'd pushed Harry away was the lowest you'd felt in a while, but you didn't want to feel that way anymore. All Harry had been asking for was friendship. You could do friendship, in fact, you craved it.

So now you were trying to make things right with Harry, or at least apologize for your rude text. He'd only ever been incredibly kind to you, and you'd treated him like garbage.

You came across a door that was partially open, laughter filtering out and reaching you in the hallway. Harry's voice was mixed among them, and hearing him laugh filled you with butterflies. Going to his studio suddenly felt like a mistake. You didn't want to bring down his mood, especially if it would affect his writing for the day.

But you finally worked up the courage to knock on the open door. You'd already made it this far. The knock immediately sobered up everyone inside the studio, and you waited outside with your gift bag clutched in your hands. One of Harry's friends appeared, eyes widening when he saw you there.

"Y/n," he said. "It's good to see you."

You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you or not, and nerves slowly began to creep in.

"I—I won't take up too much of your time, I know y'all are probably busy," you said. "I just, um, could you give this to Harry, please?"

You shoved the bag in the man's direction, forcing him to take it. "You can come in. He's just inside—"

"No, it's okay. I should probably get back to it. So, uh, see you."

You turned and fled, heat flooding your cheeks. Honestly, you were surprised you made it that far. You figured your courage would fizzle out before knocking on the studio door.

Settling back in your studio, you pulled out your journal and phone out of your bag, and opened up to a fresh page to work on a new song. On the way into work this morning, your agent pitched you an opportunity to write for an up-and-coming artist. "Something light, Y/n," she'd said, knowing you'd been writing mostly sad, break-up songs recently. "If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but at least try. You've always liked to challenge yourself."

So you were putting away the Champagne problems for now and channeling your happiest thoughts. You even brought your computer to stream romantic comedies while you worked for some additional inspiration.

You were halfway through When Harry met Sally when that inspiration finally struck. Lighter, happier words finally filled your journal, a rare, but not completely uncommon occurrence. You'd written love songs in the past, both before and while you were with Gavin. But surprisingly, Gavin wasn't who came to mind, nor was it the characters in the movie on your computer.

You thought of Harry's smile, his flushed cheeks after he'd had a couple drinks, his green eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed. Did you have a crush on him? You weren't entirely sure, maybe you just admired his goodness. And, okay fine, his unfair amount of good looks too. But you tried not to focus too long on who exactly inspired you, just on making sure the words kept flowing onto the page.

Perhaps you should've expected Harry to stop by, but you hadn't. His voice startled you, your eyes having been glued to the screen of your computer as the final scene of Roman Holiday played out in front of you. It had always been one of your favorites, and you decided that a brain break was needed as the final third of the film rolled around.

"What's this?"

No matter how many times you'd seen it, the ending never failed to bring tears to your eyes. Seeing the glisten of tears in Gregory Peck's eyes as he stared longingly at Audrey Hepburn's, knowing they loved each other but could never be together was heartbreaking. It had been the most tragic thing you'd ever experienced when you first watched it as a girl, and it hadn't even happened to you.

It was those tears now that you wiped away, a warmth creeping up your cheeks because this was the second time Harry had caught you crying. How embarrassing.

Looking up, you saw the gift bag in one hand, the other in his pocket as he stared at you blankly. No warmth or his usual smile, but he wasn't glaring at you, either. He just looked indifferent, and that didn't sit well with you at all.

"I...I overheard you and Mitch talking about your cat and his allergies, and I'd heard of this stuff that you can use on your pets to help people who are allergic to animals."

You'd gone out and bought it after leaving the studio the day you'd overheard the conversation between Mitch and Harry. It was your version of an olive branch, a way to express your guilt after taking Harry's friendship and throwing it in his face. You were his friend, and you wanted him to know it.

It probably seemed silly to hide behind a gift instead of saying something, considering your profession. But confrontation was almost as terrifying as love was, it was part of the reason why you only wrote songs and didn't perform them.

Harry scoffed, and it looked like he couldn't decide between laughing or rolling his eyes. "No, I know what this is, I'm asking why you gave it to me. Or not me, to my friend and then scurried back over here."

"I'm sorry about that, about everything," you said, shutting your laptop and shifting in your chair. "I was...I haven't been in the best place for some time now. It's not an excuse for how I treated you that day. You caught me in a bad moment and I lashed out."

"Thank you for apologizing," he said, his voice cool and even. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What he saw when he looked at you. "Do you want to grab coffee? Maybe we can talk?"

The thought of being open and honest in the way that he was suggesting was daunting, but Harry deserved your honesty. "Sure. Let me just pack up my things."

Harry waited for you by the door as you packed your bag, jotting a couple notes down in your journal before putting it away. Your hands shook a little as you approached him, excitement swelling in your belly despite the anxiety you felt at the prospect of having to talk about things you preferred to leave in the recesses of your mind. But it felt good to see Harry again, to walk beside him and head to your favorite coffee house.

Neither of you said anything on the short walk over, and even after you placed your orders, you remained quiet. When your name was called out alongside Harry's to grab your drinks, you knew it was time to find a table, but you stayed rooted to your spot in front of the counter.

It was Larissa. Gavin's sister. She was standing next to the other end of the counter where baristas called out and dropped off orders. There was a moment when she didn't see you, and you thought you could make a break for it, even if that meant leaving Harry high and dry. But even if you wanted to, you were frozen in place, and when Larissa's gaze finally landed on you, you felt her glare even from a short distance.

"Y/n?" Harry asked, both drinks in his hands. "What's—"

"Y/n! How good to see you!"

Larissa's kind smile was anything but. You'd never trusted Gavin's sister. From the moment you met her, you knew to be wary of her, and after everything that happened, you were sure nothing good was going to come out of this interaction.

"H—Hi, Larissa. How are you?" you said, trying your best not to look at Harry, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"Oh, I'm just fabulous. I've just spent the last year healing my brother's broken heart, which you broke like it was nothing," Larissa said. "He's great, by the way. Finally came to his senses and realized what a God-awful mess you were. He realized all of us were better off without you."

Then, before you could even make sense of what was happening, a rush of cold washed over you. At first, you thought it was merely a visceral reaction to the confrontation, but Harry's, "What the fuck?" made you think twice.

Looking down, you realized Larissa had poured her drink on your sweater. Shock left you blinking at Gavin's sister, tears welling in your eyes. With shaking hands, you held the ruined sweater in your hands, then back to Larissa. "Wh—Why—"

"That's for my brother, slut."

"That's enough," Harry said, voice harder and colder than you'd ever heard him before. Even when he was upset with you at the studio, he never sounded this angry. Gently gripping your elbow, he turned you around. You hardly noticed the flashing of cameras aimed in your direction. All you could really process was Larissa's smirk and the iced coffee dripping off you onto the coffee house's floor.

When you were finally outside and a block down the road, Harry pulled you down an alley where you could have a moment of privacy. He pulled his sweater over his head and offered it to you in a bundle. You quietly murmured your thanks and took it from him, slipping it over your head. The plain black sweater was warm and smelled like him—like laundry detergent and expensive cologne. It would've been the kind of thing to flood your senses if shame hadn't currently encompassed every fiber of your being.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you said when you felt like you could speak without your voice trembling.

"You don't have to apologize for what happened, Y/n," Harry said. He gently rested his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

You couldn't look him in the eye, not while your iced coffee-ridden sweater was now ruining his, not while he kept looking at you with such pity. You could feel it down to your toes, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed. But Harry deserved an explanation. At the very least, he deserved to know who he associated himself with.

"I should explain—"

"You don't have to," Harry insisted.

"I want to," you said, believing the words as you said them. You weren't sure what you would've done if Harry hadn't been with you a few minutes ago. His brows were still furrowed with concern, his thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder. His sweater layered over yours created a pretty thick barrier, but you could feel his touch as if he was caressing your skin. "We can, um, we can go back to my place."

Thankfully, Harry didn't protest, just nodded quietly. The walk back to the studio was completely silent, leaving you alone with your thoughts until it was time to part ways. He got in his car and followed you home, silently following you up the steps to your apartment, a comfortable little one-bedroom twenty minutes from the studio.

Buddy was at the door when you unlocked it, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side of his mouth happily. He greeted you first, then Harry, who he tried with all his might to knock over by getting up on his hind legs and resting on your guest. "Buddy! Down!" you hissed, frantically holding onto your dog's collar. Harry laughed and waived you off, surprising you by lifting Buddy up into his arms. Both boys were perfectly content, and the image of your friend holding your dog in your apartment was enough to lift your spirits the tiniest bit. A small smile crept onto your face, and Harry's grin widened when he saw it.

"Nice place," Harry commented, spinning around in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Thanks." Your apartment was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood and close to the beach. You made just enough in royalties to be comfortable in a little one bedroom. "Definitely different from my place in Nashville."

Harry nodded mildly before setting Buddy back down on the floor, admiring the colorful furniture that took up the space in your living room. Shivering a little, you looked down at yourself, reminded of your coffee-soaked clothes.

"There are treats in the pantry," you said, setting your things down on the kitchen counter and nodding to the pantry in question. "I'm just going to get changed so I can wash your sweater."

Harry nodded, but he seemed content to play with Buddy and look around your apartment, and your dog seemed perfectly happy to never walk on four legs ever again.

You tried to make quick work of changing, not wanting to keep Harry waiting too long. But you gave yourself a minute or two to calm down and process everything that had happened in the last hour. Even though it was horribly embarrassing, you were glad Harry had been there. He'd been a calming presence throughout, and you could only hope that would continue as you explained why you'd pushed him away.

*.*

"I...I didn't want to hurt you," you said, looking down at where your hands were knotted in your lap. "I just...I don't have a very good track record with relationships. Of any kind. I didn't want you to be one of the people I ruined."

Harry had been surprisingly quiet while you explained everything. And by everything, you meant everything. From Gavin to the Christmas party and what you'd heard to the would-be proposal. You told him about that song you'd written a couple weeks ago and how it brought all that emotion to the forefront of your memory and that it led you to push Harry away. He hadn't said much, asking you a few questions here and there; but for the most part, he let you speak uninterrupted, and you were surprised at how you continued to fill the silence, not once feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps a little ashamed after explaining how badly you'd hurt Gavin, but you never felt discomfort telling Harry any of it.

"Y/n, I—" Harry began to say before pausing. Looking up at him, you saw his brows furrowed, a look of consternation on his face. You waited for the blow, the one that eventually led him to leave you friendless once and for all. "I don't think you're a bad person for breaking up with him. I can't imagine that kind of hurt, sure, but if you didn't love him, you did the right thing. Do you—Do you seriously believe you're fucked in the head? Or that you ruin people?"

He was referencing the song you'd written, and you flushed bright red at the idea of him hearing more of the song than you would've liked. Shrugging, you gave him the truth. It didn't seem fit to lie when you'd bared your soul to him. "I don't know."

You could tell that answer didn't sit right with Harry. His frown deepened, and you desperately wanted to see him smile again. "Y/n, everyone makes mistakes in relationships, and even then I don't think you did anything wrong in that moment. Was it unfortunate timing? Maybe, but I don't think you should punish yourself for it anymore. In fact, I think what you did was brave."

"What?"

Smiling, Harry took your hand in his. It was warm, and his long fingers curled around your hand with ease. On any other day, you would've pulled back, but after sharing so much with him, this felt good. It felt right.

"I said what you did was brave," he said again. "You didn't love him, but you could've accepted the proposal and stayed with him. And then what? Leave him at the altar? Stay in a loveless marriage? It was hard, but you did the right thing for you and Gavin. I'm sure even he would come to understand that one day. Have you tried talking to him?"

You shook your head. "He hates me now."

"I don't think anyone could really hate you, Y/n," Harry said quietly, a blush crawling up his cheeks as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I know you might disagree, but I think you might feel a lot better about all of this if you talked to him."

"His family—"

"Fuck his family. Gavin is a grown man who can think for himself," Harry said. "If he can't separate their wrong opinions from his own thoughts, then he's an idiot who never deserved you anyway."

You laughed a little at the first half of what he said. It felt nice to know that someone was on your side. Squeezing Harry's hand, you said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for being a good friend when I maybe didn't deserve it. Evan's the only person I talked to about this, and even then I didn't explain everything," you said. Evan had been on your side, but it didn't really count to you. He was your brother. He had to be on your side. "I just don't have the best track record when it comes to hurting people, you know?"

Your eyes had fallen to your hand, which was still curled around his, but to your surprise, Harry's other one lifted your chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, you looked at him, heart beating a little wilder in your chest when you saw the look on his face. His expression was wide open, earnest and endearing, and filled with...something you weren't ready to see yet. But it filled you with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, you really believed that you didn't have to be alone.

"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

His hand pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The movement made your breath hitch, lips parting as you tried to decide what Harry was going to do next, what you wanted him to do next. He seemed like he was waiting for something too, and his gaze was finally too much, like he could see your soul and was currently shuffling through every little thing you longed for and were afraid of. It was heavy with emotion, and you weren't ready for it.

"You should probably get going soon," you said, rising, with great difficulty, to your feet and putting some distance between yourself and Harry. A frown on Harry's face appeared, and you quickly explained yourself. "Your cat. You probably should head home and feed her."

Before you and Harry sat down to talk about...everything, he briefly mentioned his new kitten, Sweet Pea. "It was the name she already had when I adopted her, and it didn't feel right to change it, though sometimes she's not so sweet." She was a fluffy Ragdoll cat that was apparently quite the diva, and Harry proudly showed off picture after picture, claiming he was already in love with his new furry companion.

Now though, Harry's eyes widened as if he hadn't even thought about his new kitten since being here. "Right. Good call. I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded as you watched him gather his things. "I'll return the sweater tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You walked Harry to the door to see him out. He crossed the threshold but paused before heading down to his car. You couldn't read the look that crossed his face, but his lingering gave you one last opportunity to take him all in. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath the white t-shirt he wore, and his hair had grown a tad longer since you'd spoken to him last, now curling around the nape of his neck and touching the collar of his shirt. Harry was taller than you, but not by much, though standing this close, it felt like he was a whole foot taller as you craned your neck to look at him.

Then, before you could ask if he'd forgotten something, he leaned forward. It took you a moment to realize what he'd done, but the lingering traces of heat on your forehead helped. He'd kissed you. On the forehead.

"See you tomorrow!"

Harry was gone in a flash, leaving you standing at the front door of your apartment with an open mouth as you tried to decide what his forehead kiss meant. To you, it felt sisterly, and you couldn't help the disappointment that swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed that feeling away, closing the door on whatever happened just then.

*.*

For the next few weeks, everything felt like it was back to normal. Better than normal, even. Despite the awkwardness you felt at having to see Harry after the odd forehead kiss, Harry acted like it never happened, which you were thankful for. You wouldn't have known what to say if he'd brought it up. Or tried to do it again.

But it became clear, despite the teeny tiny budding feelings you might have had for him, that he merely saw you as a friend. After your long talk with him at your apartment, Harry began showing you some of the work he'd been doing in his own studio down the hall from yours. It appeared he was getting over a break up too, though you never would've guessed by how cheerful he was most days. He still was, even as he explained a little about his most recent relationship, and you realized that while you hid your true emotions behind a wall, he might've been hiding behind his happy disposition. It made you want to dig deeper, to see what lay beneath all that "fineness."

As you spent more time with Harry, you also began hanging out with his friends. The first time you returned to his house for another game night, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, namely Sylvia. "I'm so glad you're spending more time with H," she'd said that night. "I love him to death but he's a clingy motherfucker when he's lonely."

That thought made you laugh. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Harry a while back when he'd said his friends were "disgustingly in love." He seemed like the kind of guy who loved love, but you also didn't want Sylvia, or any of his friends, to get the wrong idea.

"Oh I don't—I mean we're not—I don't think he sees me that way."

That wasn't how you wanted to explain yourself, seeing as you weren't even sure if you saw him that way. But Sylvia must have seen your flushed cheeks and understood your floundering because she smiled at you warmly.

"I think this calls for a girl's day. What do you think?"

"Oh. Um..." You didn't expect any of Harry's friends to want to hang out with you one on one, but you'd been leaning into trying new things lately. And girl's day? You grew up with three brothers, the last time you had anything resembling that was a tea party Hayden and Evan threw for you when you were six. "Sure. I could meet you for lunch this week if you'd like."

"Lunch sounds perfect."

A couple days passed until you had Buddy on his leash, walking down to the cafe you and Sylvia agreed on. You were a little nervous, but mostly excited. It had been a while since you'd hung out casually with a friend—you weren't counting Harry—and while you'd grown accustomed to the loneliness, you couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt nice to talk to someone other than your dog.

"Okay," Sylvia said once the waiter walked away with your orders. She'd held off asking about Harry, but now the time had come. "Hit me. What did Harold do?"

"Nothing," you said, perhaps a little too quickly. When Sylvia pinned you with a stare, you looked down at your glass of water. "He just...He gave me a kiss? On the forehead? And I don't know, it just read very...brotherly."

Sylvia sighed, which at the very least vindicated your feelings. It wasn't like you wanted anything more, but the whole thing left you feeling confused. A cheek kiss would've been easier to navigate, but the forehead? It left Y/n thinking about Harry more than she should've.

"Okay, I can see where you might be confused by that, but as someone with a brother, I can confidently say they don't do shit like that."

You weren't sure what you expected her to say, or what you even wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. Sylvia knew Harry fairly well, so it was safe to say that she was telling the truth, you just weren't ready to accept what she was implying.

"I do too, and I know the last thing I would expect from any of my brothers is a kiss on the forehead, but I don't know," you said, trying to remain as neutral as possible knowing Sylvia could report back to Harry. This whole thing was starting to feel very grade school-esque.

"Just know that Harry's a pretty open guy, but he's been burned in the past so he might be a little closed off or not be as inclined to make the first move," Sylvia said, though in some ways it sounded like a warning. "He's the greatest guy you'll ever meet, and whatever you decide, just be gentle, okay?"

It was hard to imagine someone as positive and happy as Harry having a dark past, but it sounded like there was a lot more than what met the eye as far as he was concerned. It was honestly a little comforting to know that he wasn't perfect. You were such a mess sometimes it seemed unfair that people wandered through life seemingly unscathed. You knew that was rarely ever the case, but sometimes it was hard to remember when guys like Harry walked around embracing life and had smiles for every occasion.

"I will," you promised, and you meant it. You were pretty sure nothing was going to happen between you and Harry, but you could appreciate Sylvia looking out for her friend. As nice as she had been to you so far, she was Harry's friend first. Her words made you wonder if you would ever have friends so fiercely loyal to you.

After that lunch with Sylvia, the weeks began to pass by in a blur. There were days when you saw Harry frequently, and then you wouldn't see him at all. He would show up at your studio to get coffee—at a new coffee shop, of course—you stopped by his to bring him and his friends baked goods, and sometimes you would end the night at one another's houses, a bottle of wine and takeout split between the two of you. You weren't dating, at least you wouldn't categorize whatever it was that you were doing as dating, but it felt nice to have someone in your life consistently again, and you liked that Harry was that person even more.

That didn't mean you couldn't read the signs. Sometimes Harry's gaze would linger when he thought you didn't notice, or he would sit a lot closer than was maybe necessary when you hung out with his friends. Sometimes his hand would brush yours as you watched a movie as if he wanted to hold it, and yours would brush back encourgingly, and then suddenly you were holding hands. To anyone else, it might have appeared confusing—in fact, Sylvia had vocalized her confusion over the non-relationship you and Harry were engaging in—but for you, not acknowledging what was happening and not putting any labels or definitions on this thing happening between the two of you was somehow easier to swallow. And since Harry seemed to be following your lead, he didn't say anything to object.

It was around Christmastime that things began to change. You'd spent your morning writing a song for an artist's Christmas album, a feat you'd managed to avoid in the past. But since you'd worked with the artist before and liked the vision she had for this album, you decided to at least try to write a holiday song. It wasn't necessarily that you disliked Christmas or the holidays, you were just indifferent to the season in question, and after everything that transpired two years ago now, you just never felt like celebrating much.

Harry Styles, however, was a huge fan of Christmas. his studio was decked out with lights and garlands, he got him and Sweet Pea matching sweaters, which you weren't entirely sure if he knitted or not, and he'd been bugging you since Thanksgiving to come over to decorate cookies. He'd finally worn you down and you were going over later tonight, but not before putting in a couple hours at the studio, which turned into sitting in on one of Harry's sessions.

It didn't happen often, but you did like seeing the team approach to writing songs as opposed to your usual solitary method. For the most part, you watched as Harry bounced ideas off his friends, observing as they focused on one chord progression or verse until something else stole their attention away. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone in the room seemed to be having fun.

It was in the middle of a heated debate between another fun, upbeat song or beginning to work on a ballad when the melody came to you. It was just piano chords, and had you been in your own studio, you would've immediately sat down to play it and see where it went. But this wasn't your studio, and it wasn't your session, and while you knew no one would've minded hearing your input, you felt nervous all of a sudden, self-conscious.

So instead, you pulled some blank sheet music out and began to scribble, writing as quickly as possible before the melody escaped you. The melody had taken up so much space in your head that everything else faded away. You envisioned arrangements, themes, a line or two sprouting as you wrote down the next note. Something sad and somber, the exact opposite of what Harry had been pushing for since he entered the studio.

"What am I now?" you wrote on the back of the sheet music. You didn't know how it would fit, but it would. You could tinker with the words later, so long as all your thoughts were written down somewhere, you would find a way to make it happen.

"What are you working on over there?"

Harry was suddenly at your side, and when he peeked over your shoulder, you didn't try to hide your frenzied notes. You handed them over, unsure if he even read sheet music. "It was just a thought I had. I can play it for you if you'd like?"

"Please," Harry said, gesturing to the piano in the corner of the room. It was then that you realized that everyone else had left the room at some point or another. At your questioning glance, Harry explained. "Ten minute break, but it felt like you were onto something...And I figured you'd be more willing to share if it wasn't in front of a group."

"Thank you," you said, those pesky butterflies swirling around in your stomach. They seemed to appear any time Harry so much as smiled at you. "It's just a melody, really, but maybe you can use it for something.

You sat down at the piano, eyes widening when Harry sat down beside you. Shaking it off, you focused on the piano, the keys cool and smooth to the touch, a familiar feeling that felt nice among such a different work setting. You explained your thought process to Harry a little bit, telling him the direction you hoped the song would go in and possible arrangements for it and whatnot. Harry, who apparently knew you better than you thought he did, nudged you with his elbow and encouraged you to play, knowing that you were stalling.

It wasn't that you were unsure of yourself or your talent. You knew you were good at what you did. You'd collaborated on multiple albums and worked with many well-known artists and bands, or artists who were just breaking out onto the scene and did so with the help of your songwriting. The difference here was that you normally didn't play an idea for anyone until it was fully realized. You typically sent over demos and typed up lyrics, and Harry would be one of the first to hear something that you'd only just come up with. Besides Buddy, but he didn't really count.

Taking a deep breath, you began to play, letting the chords you'd only just come up with pull your focus. After having played through it a couple times, you looked over at Harry, who had a faraway look in his eyes, an idea of his own forming in his head, perhaps.

"It's fairly simple, but I think that's what's rather beautiful about it," you said while still playing. "Sometimes you don't need much to get a response from someone, and I think a melody like this really allows an artist to shine, you know? Whether that's through their lyrics, or their vocal range, or both. And obviously it can be changed to a different key, this is just the one I wrote down, but...yeah, that's what I've got."

You finally stopped playing to hear Harry's opinion, though you wished you hadn't. Now your hands didn't really know what to do, and it took a lot of effort to keep them knotted together in your lap. Harry still looked pensive, as if he hadn't even heard your rambling, though now you were even more curious to know what he thought.

"Harry?"

Blinking, Harry turned toward you, his knee bumping against yours on the piano bench. His eyes cleared up as he remembered he wasn't alone in the studio. "Hm? Sorry, just thinking."

Offering him your pen and a fresh page in your journal, you said, "Did you maybe want to write it down?"

After that, you and Harry wrote hundreds of songs together. At least it felt like a hundred songs. Whether it was in the studio, or at each other's homes—mainly his because he had a home studio and a guest room for when sessions went too long—the two of you were almost always writing together. It wasn't always for his album, either. Sometimes Harry would help you with projects you were working on for other artists, or you would just write songs for the sake of writing them.

And it just worked. It felt like you and Harry just clicked. He was able to vocalize what you were trying to say to his producer, and you knew what he was thinking before he said it or the sound he was going for based off a couple descriptors. You'd never known someone so intimately before, or understood them so completely, Not even Gavin.

Harry was witty and smart and kind and genuine. He felt things deeply, and kept a lot of his darkest secrets and deepest insecurities incredibly close to his chest. You realized at some point that he was even more guarded than you in some ways. As you wrote together more and more, you obviously realized that there was more than met the eye when it came to your friend, but outside of songwriting, he wouldn't divulge much. He'd been through a breakup recently, that much you could tell, and while you wanted to know more, you respected his privacy and the desire to leave the past exactly where it was. Unless it came to the music, of course.

"So...you're what? Friends without all the benefits?" Sylvia asked you.

You met with her pretty regularly now for lunch during the week. Harry wasn't typically the topic of conversation, but on this occasion, Sylvia was giving you the third degree.

"We're co-workers. And friends," you added as an afterthought. Saying you were merely co-workers didn't seem right to you anymore, and you knew Harry would be upset if you thought otherwise. "I don't know what other benefits I would need outside of his companionship."

"Bull. Shit." Sylvia pinned you with a stare that made you blush. "Last weekend he had you practically sitting in his lap, and you're trying to tell me nothing's going on?"

"Not really. I don't think either of us are in a place to be in a relationship right now." It was the same line you fed to Andrew last week when you went to see one of his games. He thankfully bought it, or maybe he was just used to you keeping your love life to yourself, but Sylvia wasn't having it.

"What makes you say that?"

You shrugged. "I mean I'm definitely not, and I can just tell he's not there yet either. I mean, obviously, I've learned about his most recent relationship by working with him, but outside of that, he doesn't tell me anything. I don't even know her name."

You weren't offended that Harry didn't want to share about his ex. You wouldn't have told him about Gavin if you hadn't been put in that particular situation. But you understood better than most about that kind of pain. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe his feelings were getting all jumbled up between the past and the present. Or maybe he just didn't like you that way. The last theory hurt more than you cared to admit, but you were more scared of another potential relationship going up in flames than finding out the truth, so you decided ignorance really was bliss.

Sylvia nodded, understanding. You realized she must've known his ex, though you didn't ask for details. That was Harry's story to tell, not hers, and you were pretty sure Sylvia would say the same if you did ask. "I guess that's fair. But so, you're just...friends who kiss occasionally?"

You nearly choked on your sip of water. "What? No! Of course not. We don't—We—"

"Let me save you the struggle of coming up with an unconvincing lie," Sylvia said. "I've seen you."

"When?"

"Christmas party," she said, raising one finger as if she was about to list a few occurences.

"That was mistletoe. It was innocent," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, even though said hand was suddenly clammy.

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

"Why are you paying that close attention to my neck?"

"And," Slyvia said, pointedly ignoring your last remark. "I have it on good authority that Harry kissed you at the studio last week. Don't try to hide it, Y/n."

Sighing, you said, "So what's your point, exactly?"

"My point is that y'all are just pretending you're not in a relationship when you are!" she said, looking at you as if you had two heads. "Look, it's clear you've been through some shit and Harry has too, I won't deny that. But are you really going to put your happiness on the back burner because of it?"

Your cheeks burned at having been caught. It wasn't like you'd planned to kiss Harry any of those times. Each kiss came as a surprise, leaving you more and more breathless than the last and hopeful for another. What Sylvia didn't know was that you and Harry had kissed a lot more than the handful that she'd rattled off. Sometimes when it was late and you were over at his house working, he'd get this look in his eyes that would turn your whole body molten. He'd lean in close, nudge your nose with his, and then his lips were on yours and time suddenly didn't exist.

You liked kissing Harry. A lot. You liked the way his fingers gingerly held your jaw, you liked that kissing him gave you free rein to touch him wherever you wanted—his hair, his arms, beneath his shirt. Sometimes it felt like you couldn't get enough, but it always ended with one of you pulling away under the guise that it was getting late. Your lips would tingle long after, and you'd text Harry late at night when you should've been asleep, or he would call to talk about whatever he was thinking.

To anyone else, it wouldn't make sense, but it made sense to you and Harry. There was no pressure to be more, no urgency to define what you were doing, and that seemed to work for both of you.

"I'm perfectly happy right now," you said, and you were.

It had been a long time since you'd felt this content. Your breakup with Gavin left you feeling guilty and ashamed. And deep down, you knew you already felt more for Harry than you did for your ex, and that made you feel horrible too. Part of you still felt you were being greedy by trying to be this happy, that you should just take what you were given and try not to press your luck.

Sylvia took you by surprise by taking your hand. Her fingers were warm and reassuring, just as her eyes were when you finally met her gaze. It was safe to say now that she was your friend. She'd come over to your house multiple times for wine and movie nights, you went out to bars together, you'd met her partner, who was the absolute sweetest person on the planet. You valued Sylvia's friendship, and you valued her as a person. You didn't want to lose her if things with Harry progressed and fizzled out.

"It's okay to want more, Y/n," she said gently.

It was like she saw through all the bullshit and realized what you were really scared of. Harry was the only person who knew everything regarding your past relationship, but you told Sylvia bits and pieces. When you'd told her that you broke up with Gavin the night he wanted to propose, she didn't judge you, or ask why you'd throw away a perfectly good relationship. She was empathetic, and said she was sorry you had to go through that. It felt good to confide in someone who was willing to hear your side of the story, to have them realize if you could've loved Gavin the way he loved you, you would've.

"Maybe," you said. "But like I said, I'm not the only one who has shit to work through."

Sylvia nodded, letting the subject drop. But the words she'd said, It's okay to want more, needled at your brain the rest of the day.

*.*

"You should come with me."

You had been watching Sweet Pea doze contentedly on top of Buddy, who was curled in a ball on his dog bed. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but they'd gotten along great the first time they were introduced, and now you found it adorable any time they napped together.

Harry's voice was low and scratchy in your ear, as if he wasn't too far off from sleep himself. You were huddled together under a blanket on your couch, watching the credits roll on the second movie of the night, but you hadn't paid much attention to anything since the moment Harry pulled you to his chest and tucked his chin in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses as his thumbs rubbed circles beneath your shirt.

"What?" you asked, not having really heard him. It seemed impossible, but every day his touch became more and more dizzying.

"To Japan. You should come with me," he said. "It would be like a writing retreat."

Harry had mentioned his impromptu trip to Japan over dinner. He seemed excited about it, of getting out of town for a little while and just being alone with his thoughts. Those were his words, though now he was inviting you along.

"I don't even have a passport," you said, a non-answer, as Harry would call it.

"We'll get you one," he said. "Don't you think it would be fun to explore a new city together? Just the two of us?"

"W—What about Buddy?"

"Buddy can come to," Harry said, like it was all just so easy.

You thought back to your conversation with Sylvia a week ago. It's okay to want more, she'd said. At the time, you were content with this thing you and Harry were doing. It was simple and easy and pressure-free. A couple weeks later her words still nagged you. You hadn't mentioned wanting more to Harry, but this was different. This was...big. Appearing nonchalant didn't make it so.

"What are we?" you found yourself asking, hating how cliche the question was, even if you did need the answer all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but you knew he was too smart to not understand.

Still, you sat up and faced him, forcing him to sit on the other side of the couch to have a proper conversation. "I meant exactly what I said, H. What—What are we doing here exactly?"

Harry's face flushed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed his neck. "I...I don't know. I thought we were okay with not really defining it."

Not defining it, or not talking about it? you thought, even though that wasn't really fair. You were just as content not to ask as he was until now. Or a few weeks ago, you couldn't exactly tell when you began to want more, or when wanting more stopped scaring you.

"I know, but now you're asking me to drop everything and fly to Japan for...for how long exactly?"

Harry shrugged, and your jaw ticked. "A couple months?"

"A couple months," you repeated, trying to align your thoughts. All you could hear though was, It's okay to want more. Taking a deep breath, you said, "I think...I think if I'm going to follow someone across the world for a couple months, I would like a definition about what it is we're doing."

"It's a writing retreat, Y/n. We would be working on songs. Just like we've always done."

You weren't sure when you became the brave one. Perhaps it was your conversation with Sylvia bolstering your confidence, or maybe it was Harry's reluctance to acknowledge the situation at hand, you weren't sure, but his reply wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

"I'd have to find my own hotel," you said. "Or an apartment to rent I guess."

"You'd stay with me obviously," Harry said, and you had to resist the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he started seeing your perspective.

"Co-workers don't live together, H."

"But we're not just co-workers, Y/n. We're—"

Your brows raised, encouraging him to finish, but he ended up shaking his head. Running a tired hand over his face, he said, "I understand what you mean, but I can't...I can't give that to you right now."

You nodded, then stood up. "And I can't go to Japan without it."

It hurt, but at least he was being upfront about how he felt. It wasn't really fair of you to ask for more when both of you had been content to keep things simple. But somewhere down the line, you realized you liked Harry. A lot. You were okay with leaving your history with Gavin in the past, and you wanted to look to the future now. You'd thought that the future might include a relationship with Harry, but he wasn't ready, and you weren't sure if you wanted to wait. So much of the last two years had been waiting, hiding. Now you needed more. You craved it.

You felt like you were in some kind of alternate universe. One where Harry was scared and unsure of himself and unable to admit to what he wanted. You wanted more, and you weren't going to settle for anything less. You wanted to be more than his friend whom he kissed sometimes, you wanted to hear his scratchy voice as he woke up beside you, and you knew he did too, but something was holding him back. You'd spent too much time hiding from life and love to hide with him some more. Part of you wanted to, just because it was Harry, and you cared about him a lot, but a bigger part of you knew what you deserved, and it was okay to acknowledge that.

"I understand," he said, standing up with you.

Both of you were quiet as he gathered his things. You watched his broad shoulders shrug into his coat, the lean frame of his body bend down to put Sweet Pea in her little carrier. You felt the loss of him already, and he hadn't even gone yet, but you could feel the wall going up between the two of you. Both of you were guarded in your own ways, and both of you had been as vulnerable as you could be, but it wasn't enough.

"When are you planning on leaving?" you asked as you walked him to the door.

"Couple weeks," he said. "Just have to get the logistics figured out."

Nodding, you stepped into his offered embrace, letting yourself inhale the scent of his cologne and feel his arms around you for the last time for a while. His nose bumped yours in a move that was so familiar it made your heart squeeze. You weren't sure how long you stood like that, kissing until you couldn't breathe, it was only until Buddy's wet nose nudged the two of you apart that you finally stepped away from him. Harry bent down to scratch your dog's head and let him lick his cheek a few times before straightening back up. He was about to turn and leave when you called his name.

"I don't know what happened," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "If you did something or if she did something to make you so...closed off, and from one heavily guarded person to another, I'm sorry that it happened and that it made you this way. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Japan."

Harry grinned, but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples. Without saying a word, he left, head bent as he walked down the hall, taking a piece of you with him.

Buddy nudged your leg, pulling away from the hall Harry already disappeared down. Your dog's eyes were big and curious and completely unaware of what was wrong, which brought a watery smile to your face. "Come on, bubba. Let's get ready for bed."

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

My Sweet Girl (Matthew Tkachuk Imagine)

This is by far-- I repeat, by far-- the longest reader insert I've ever written. It's my submission for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange, a gift for @matthewtkachuk ! Excellent URL, by the way.

The creative process here went as follows: Shelbs shows me her On Repeat Spotify playlist -> I see The Band Camino on it and remember that I love that band -> I listen to nothing but them for two weeks -> I hear the song Know It All and am struck with inspiration -> I write this and inflict it on everyone else.

I jumped around a bit while writing, so please let me know if there's anything I screwed up! This is also the type of fic that has had 20+ tabs of Wikipedia pages, ESPN articles, and stats pages open on my computer for two months, but there was still information I couldn't find, so please be gentle with any inconsistencies.

Anyway, I truly hope that you enjoy this one! I apologize for being a day late posting, my job sucks.

Rating: M

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk/fem!Reader

Words: 26, 028

Warnings: a lot of angst

Contains: best friend's brother, friends to ??? to strangers to lovers, situationship, idiots in love, everyone knows but them, Matthew being kind of a dick, guest appearances by the Weinberg-Hughes family and Jane Gaudreau

Summary: As Brady's best friend, it was your duty to love and support him. You're pretty sure falling in love with his brother does not count as "support", but here you are.

-----

You weren’t expecting this to be as hard as it is.

Luckily, you’d been given a little warning beforehand, but apparently a week wasn’t enough to prepare yourself. Was it kind of fucked up that the news had to come from Brady, because Matthew hadn’t bothered to tell you himself? Yeah, kind of. Sure, Brady and you have been best friends for years, but it’s not like you’re not close with Matthew, too.

You hadn’t realized what was going on at first, convincing yourself not to be upset when Matthew’s texts slowed and his calls stopped outright. It had been the beginning of the playoffs, you reasoned, of course he was going to be too busy to talk to you as much. Despite the fact that communication between the two of you had never waned because of the season before. It was his first year on a new team, you’d told yourself, a team with a great shot at the Cup, at that. You could deal with missing him a little more than usual if that’s what he needed.

When you’d called him to congratulate him on passing the first round, he’d thanked you and wrapped the call up as quickly as he could. Seeing the 3:24:41 call duration on your phone afterward had felt wrong. It was one of the shortest calls the two of you had ever had.

You’d brushed it off, chalked it up to him being tired or busy. Then they’d won the second round, and the process repeated itself. A quick phone call, a few scant minutes. It had sounded like other people were there that time, so you’d convinced yourself that he would call you back when he was alone. He never did.

You got to watch Game 4 of the third series, got to watch them sweep Carolina to win the Eastern Conference. Your friend Terri had laughed and clapped as you cheered, jumping up and down like a child. She was a Carolina fan herself, but was good enough of a loser to hug and congratulate you despite it. She’d offered to leave so that you could talk to Matthew, but you’d waved it off. You knew he’d be celebrating with the boys that night, so there was no real reason to try calling. You’d shot him a congratulations text and spent the night smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

When you’d tried to call Matthew the next day, his voice had been hushed when he answered. You’d given him your congratulations, bubbling over about how well they’d played. It’s not the first time you’d had a phone call exactly like that, him letting you gush about his team’s play and basking in the attention. This time, he interrupted you before you even got a chance to really get going. His voice was still quiet, almost a whisper as he said he had to go. The wind was immediately taken out of your sails and you’d barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up.

At that point, you’d given up convincing yourself that everything was okay. Something was very clearly wrong, and you’d spent the next nine days trying to figure out what it was. You’d reached out to Brady, and he’d told you that he hadn’t noticed anything weird from Matthew at all. Knowing that, you’d tried to downplay what was going on between the two of you, lest Brady go bother Matthew about it. You don’t do well with embarrassment, so you’d preferred that whatever was going on stayed away from any third parties.

The finals started, ending rather anticlimactically ten days later in a 4-1 loss for the Panthers. Knowing Matthew, he was going to go straight back to his hotel room and beat himself up. For the last three, almost four, years, you’d called Matthew after every big win or loss, and this was his biggest loss to date. Yet your finger hesitated at his contact name, hovered over the picture of him with bedhead and a lazy smile. With how things had been going, you knew he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you, even if you hadn’t figured out why yet. But part of you hoped that he would, that everything to that point had been stress, and there, at his lowest, he would talk to you again, and everything would go back to normal.

That, of course, is not what happened.

He hadn’t answered at all. And when you’d tried a second time an hour later, it rang once before going to voicemail. That meant that he’d declined your call, but you didn’t know what that meant.

Two more days passed without you hearing anything from him, so you’d called Brady. All of this had been concerning, but that had been too much. Miraculously, you’d managed to stay calm when you spoke with Brady, sounding impressively level-headed when you relayed what happened and asked him if he’d heard from Matthew. Brady had seemed shocked at the situation, immediately calling Matthew after he’d hung up with you.

Thirty minutes later, when you’d received a text from Brady, your heart had sunk to the pit of your stomach, and it’s stayed there ever since.

Because what the text had informed you of is that Matthew hadn’t lost or broken his phone, hadn’t been sick or depressed or, god, lost in the fucking desert or some shit. It told you that he’d been with his girlfriend, and hadn’t wanted her to see him call or text another girl. Because, apparently, Matthew has a girlfriend now. And just hadn’t deigned to tell you.

When Brady had told you that she would be spending the offseason in St. Louis with Matthew, you’d tried to hide your shock. You’d cleared your throat and told Brady how great that was, even as you wanted to throw up. They’d gotten into town a few days ago, and you’d done your best to keep your distance. But Brady asked you to come to dinner at his parents’ house tonight, citing the limited time you have to see him before he goes back to Ottawa, and you couldn’t refuse.

So now here you are, curled up in a chair in the Tkachuks’ den, across from said girlfriend. Her name is Tessa, she’s 26, and she does remote work for a marketing firm. That explains how she’s able to pick up and go to St. Louis for three months, at least. She’s already recounted the story of how they’d met, a romcom story of spilling his drink on her dress at a party and getting to know each other from there. She talks about the instant connection, the way they clicked so quickly that she knew they were meant for each other. That part of the story was when you’d excused yourself to get a glass of water, just so you could stick your head in the fridge and take a few deep breaths.

Matthew and Tessa are on one of the couches, the older, comfier one. Matthew is propped up against one of the armrests, Tessa curled into his side, his arm around her shoulders. You’ve spent the night pretending not to notice the way Matthew keeps glancing at you.

Brady and Emma are posted up on the other couch, one on either side, Emma’s feet in Brady’s lap as she lounges. Emma is great, and does a great job at keeping the conversation going, despite how little you and the boys are participating. Tessa either doesn’t notice your silence or doesn’t mind, chatting happily about some film she and Emma have both recently seen. You’re pretending not to notice the looks Brady’s giving you, either.

You should really be trying harder. You know Brady wasn’t expecting you to curl up under a blanket and mope when he invited you, and he really is right about time being limited. You should be engaging, enjoying the time you get with the boys while you have it. You would, if you could open your mouth without feeling like you’re going to scream.

Eventually, Chantal calls you all to dinner. It’s easier once you’re all gathered around the table, somehow, and you’re able to talk a little. Chantal has always put you at ease, has always made you feel like just another of her children. If you had it your way, Taryn would be here too. She has a way of lovingly bullying you that always makes you feel better. Unfortunately, she’s visiting some college friends out of state. But you’re doing okay, you think, at acting normal.

Then you lock eyes with Keith, and any sense of ease you’ve gained flies out the window. You wouldn’t be inclined to say that Keith is the most observant person in the world, so the way he’s looking at you– like he knows something is very, very wrong– makes it clear that you’re doing an absolutely dogshit job at hiding your feelings. You look away from him quickly, swallowing hard and forcing yourself to talk even more. 

Maybe if you can just act normal, if you can push down the emotions and act like everything is okay, it will be. There’s nothing else you can really do about the situation anyway. Matthew has made it clear that he’s not interested in talking about it, so you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it on your own.

Dinner goes by a little quicker once you’re actually actively involved in the conversation. Typically, you help Chantal with the dishes after meals, but when you reach for the sponge at the sink, she shoos you away. She sends the girls back to the den, insisting that it’s the boys’ turn to help.

You curl back up in your chair, mind wandering as you operate on autopilot. You’re saying things, contributing to the conversation with Emma and Tessa, but you have no idea what you’re actually saying. Mercifully, they either don’t notice or don’t care.

This entire situation is fucked. What’s really getting to you, though, is how you’d been introduced. You’d walked in, giving out hugs to everyone except Matthew and Tessa. She’d approached you, shaking your hand enthusiastically.

“Matthew said you’re Brady’s best friend, right?” she’d asked. It was simple, innocuous, and true. Brady and you have been best friends for years, and that would be an adequate title in any other scenario. But it felt like a punch to the gut, knowing that after everything, Matthew had told her that you were just his little brother’s best friend. You’d glanced at him as she said it, and the intentionally cool, unaffected expression Matthew had in place still couldn’t hide the guilt in his eyes.

In that moment, you knew that he hadn’t told her anything about you, about whatever the two of you have been to each other for the past few years, and that he never intends to. There was a second where he’d made a decision, a second that you weren’t present for, that had cut off everything you’ve been to him and relegated you back to Brady’s Best Friend.

You want to pull Tessa aside, spill out everything. You want her to know that you’re Matthew’s friend too, that you’ve been more than that. More than that, you want Matthew to do it. You want him to tell her, to acknowledge whatever the hell you’ve been doing for all this time. You want him to admit that you’re something, anything to him.

Instead, you keep it all to yourself. The knowledge of everything between you and Matthew will live and die where it is now, in the minds of the two of you, and nowhere else.

June, 2018

You’re wiping down the counters when the man enters. You force a bright smile at him, still annoyed from the previous customer but doing your best not to show it. He returns the smile, approaching the register. You move to settle across from him, greeting him politely. The shop has a lot of regulars, but you don’t recognize this guy.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, giving a single nervous laugh, “I’m not really a coffee guy. Do you have any recommendations?” It’s not an uncommon question, and there aren’t any other customers right now, so you don’t mind.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He shakes his head. That eliminates about half of the menu, so it’s progress.

“How much caffeine are you going for?” you ask next.

“As much as possible,” he replies. The dark circles under his eyes could have hinted you to that conclusion. He has a laptop and notebook in one hand, down by his side. It’s normal for people to bring work along with them, and he’s definitely young, so you guess it’s probably school work.

“You could always do a triple shot latte with a flavor,” you suggest, your own go-to drink, “The caramel is the strongest. I can put in an extra pump if you want.” Technically, you should charge extra for that, but the kid looks kind of pathetic, and you feel bad. He can have a pity pump this once.

“That sounds good,” he agrees. You do the math in your head and punch in the price manually on the vintage register. The whole cafe is supposed to have a vintage vibe, a real hipster magnet. Math was always your weakest subject, but having to calculate totals in your head has made you a lot better with it.

Once he pays on the very not-vintage card reader, you direct him to the far side of the bar. You start on his drink, pulling shots with practiced ease. You’ve been working  here since high school, so you’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee. He doesn’t try to talk to you while you work, which is nice. There’s something oddly calming about his presence, though, and it’s helping your annoyance fade.

You hand off his drink, and he retreats to a booth in the back corner after thanking you. You go back to wiping things down, bobbing your head along with the music playing quietly over the speakers. It’s later in the evening, so you only get a few customers over the next hour. It’s one thing you like about working the night shift. Not many customers, and most of the people getting coffee around this time are tired enough to not give you much trouble, and are usually extremely grateful for the caffeine.

It’s quiet for long enough that you pull your stool up to the counter, pulling your textbook and notes out from under the counter. You start working on the homework for your summer semester, singing quietly to yourself as you read.

“You have a nice voice,” the guy from earlier says, suddenly standing in front of you. You jump, hand flying to your chest as if you’re a damsel in a period piece. You’d forgotten he was here.

“Thank you,” you say, once the surprise fades. You laugh a little, shaking your head. He laughs too, apologizing for startling you.

“Could I have another?” he asks, holding up his now-empty cup.

“Of course,” you reply, “Same cup okay?” You do your best to be environmentally friendly, so you don’t want to use another cup if you don’t have to. He says that’s okay, so you take the cup and start pulling another shot.

“Y/N,” he says absently as he leans on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” You thank him again, dumping the first shot into the cup. It’s odd, because people are usually flirting when they say something like that, but his tone isn’t suggestive at all.

“What’s your name?” you ask, feeling like you should say something. You start pulling the second shot.

“Brady,” he says, extending a hand toward you. You look between his hand and your own, feeling rude but needing both hands to pull the shot.

“Oh, um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I’m–” He seems to realize what’s going on and retracts his hand, using it to rub at the base of his skull.

“My bad,” he says, shaking his head at himself, “I’m tired, sorry.” You smile at him, much more genuine than the first time.

“What’s got you so tired anyway, Brady?” you ask, dumping the second shot and starting on the third. His face twists at what you’d thought was an innocuous question. He’s clearly debating something in his head, so you stay silent.

“I’ve got something big coming up in a couple weeks,” he explains, tapping his fingers against the counter, “I’m just trying to be prepared.” You nod, not minding how vague he’s being. You don’t actually need to know every detail of a random customer’s life. There’s a moment of quiet as you dump in the third shot and pour some milk into a metal container.

“And I might be a little nervous,” he says, looking at his hands instead of you. You smile again, beginning to steam the milk.

“Just a little,” you repeat, slightly teasing in a way you usually aren’t with customers.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking up at you, “Just a little.” You smile at each other for a second, both knowing he’s seriously downplaying his feelings. You wonder what it is that has him so anxious, sure that it must be something serious. He doesn’t seem to be the neurotic type.

“What are you working on?” he asks as you pour the milk, gesturing toward your books spread out next to the register. You shrug.

“Organic chemistry,” you reply, pumping in the flavoring, “The worst class ever.” He cringes at the mention of it, which you feel in your bones.

“I’ve heard it’s awful,” he says.

“It is,” you confirm. You snap the lid back onto the cup, sliding it over the counter to him. He cradles it between his hands, but doesn’t move to leave. He’s looking up at you from where he’s hunched over, and you can’t help but stare back.

“Do you want to come sit with me?” he asks, “We could be miserable together.” The smile that overtakes your face mirrors itself on his own.

August, 2018

When Brady walks in, right at his usual time, you give him a smile and lean over the counter to hug him. You’ve become fast friends, sitting together a few nights a week, probably talking more than studying. His Big Thing is long past, and he still hasn’t told you what it was, but you don’t really mind. You get to know about his family and his girlfriend and his upcoming move to Ottawa, of all places, but you don’t need to know everything if he doesn’t want to share.

You make two of the usual latte, one for each of you. You grab your books from the shelf, meeting him at the corner booth. You get through some small talk as you both set up, going back and forth with an ease that you were surprised to find has been there since the beginning.

“Matthew’s going to come hang out tonight,” he says as he logs into his computer. He’s spoken about his brother before, so you’re somewhat intrigued.

“Any particular reason?” you ask. To your knowledge, Matthew has never been to the shop, so you’re not sure if something special is going on to spur him into coming.

“He thinks it sounds cool,” Brady shrugs, flipping his notebook open. Maybe you’d know what he’s always working on if you could read his tiny chicken scratch. As it is, you don’t mind letting him have his secrets.

You get four pages into your chapter before another customer enters, laying your pen in the divot between the pages while you go make them their drink. Luckily, they don’t stick around. It’s not awful when other people are around, but you always feel like someone is going to complain about you sitting in the dining room and studying while you should be working. But if there’s no work to be done, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. So you prefer if it’s just you and Brady.

Another four pages drag by, reading interspersed with breaks to talk. Honestly, the breaks are also a way to keep yourself sane as you read unnecessarily complicated science.

When the next customer enters, you spring up from your chair, shooting them a smile as you make your way behind the counter. You give your standard greeting, asking what you can get them.

“What do you recommend?” the man asks. You were kind of hoping he’d have something in mind so that this interaction could go quickly, because he may be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and it’s making you flustered.

“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He nods, looking you up and down with a critical eye. It feels personal, feels like he’s searching for something, and you’re not sure if you like it.

“How much caffeine are you looking for?” you ask next. You do your best to maintain eye contact, ignoring the way you have to look up to do so.

“How much you got?” he asks in return. The crooked smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. You grasp for a drink to suggest, all knowledge having fled your mind in order to focus on the curl of his hair over his forehead, the glint of his bright eyes.

“A Lazy Eye would probably be the most,” you say, clearing your throat, “But if you don’t want to have a heart attack, you could do a regular Red Eye.” He tilts his head, smile turning smug, as if he’s noticed your distraction. Something about it snaps you out of your daze, slightly indignant. You’ve seen plenty of hot guys in your day, and you’re not about to look like a fool in front of him just because he’s pretty.

“Red Eye, Black Eye, Dripped Eye, Lazy Eye,” you list off with as much confidence as you can muster, “Each with one more shot than the last. Pick your poison.” Your attitude change only makes him smile wider. Your hand is poised over the buttons of the register, ready to ring up whatever he decides.

“Let’s go with a Black Eye,” he says, bearing a surprisingly sharp canine, “I’ve had a few of those in my time.” That doesn’t surprise you, with his smug face and oozing self-confidence. Something about it feels so disingenuous that it makes your teeth itch. It’s clearly an act, but you can’t exactly call him on it.

You give him his total, he pays, you get to work. You empty the last dregs of coffee in the pot into the sink and set the machine to brew a new batch. No matter how annoying a customer seems, you’re not about to serve them shitty coffee.

“Y/N,” he says, leaning on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” It’s exactly what Brady had said when you’d met him, which makes you eye the man a little suspiciously. Whereas Brady had clearly not been flirting when he’d said it, this man’s tone is ambiguous enough that you’re not entirely sure what his intentions are.

“Thank you,” you say, dumping the first shot of espresso into the cup. Normally, you would ask for his name in return, but you’re not sure if you want to encourage him talking to you.

“How long have you worked here?” he asks anyway.

“Almost three years,” you reply. You’re not sure you want to tell him anything about your life, but you’re trying to be polite.

“Experienced,” he says, smiling like he’s a lion closing in on its prey, “I like that.” It’s cheesy and kind of sleazy, and you can’t help but scoff in disbelief. He’s watching you like a hawk, studying your reactions to everything he says and does. You dump the second shot, wishing the coffee would brew faster so this interaction could be over.

“I don’t think I want to know what else you like,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You used to get embarrassed and rattled by customers making comments like this, but at some point something had changed inside you. Now you just get annoyed, no matter how hot the person may be.

“Feisty,” he says, smile changing slightly in a way you can’t parse, “I like that too.” You roll your eyes, making a quiet noise of disgust. It’s not great for business to react to customers this way, but you can’t help it.

“I like it when men are silent,” you reply, able to feel how withering your gaze is. His expression changes yet again, smile getting smaller but more genuine, scrunching the bottom of his eyes up a little. That feels more natural to you, looks more right on his face. Something about the new softness in his eyes soothes something inside of you.

The coffee machine beeps to signal that it’s ready, and you waste no time in grabbing the pot and filling the cup. You hand it off to him, giving your biggest, most obviously fake smile.

“Have a fantastic night,” you say, immediately rounding the counter and heading back to the booth. When you settle back into your seat, Brady is smiling at you like you’ve told the funniest joke in the world.

“What?” you ask, picking up your pen. Brady’s eyes flick up above your head, slightly to the left, staying there, prompting you to turn around. The man is standing behind you, small smile still in place.

“Brady’s told me so much about you,” he says, and it dawns on you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Matthew.” Your jaw falls open and you turn back to Brady, kicking him in the shin under the table. He yelps; Matthew laughs.

“You’re both the worst,” you spit, trying to hold onto your irritation and failing. You laugh alongside the brothers, begrudgingly amused by the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Sorry about that back there,” Matthew apologizes, seemingly genuine, “I couldn’t help myself.” You shake your head at him as he bullies Brady further into the booth so he can sit. Brady shoves him back, but moves his things over anyway.

“It’s okay,” you say, pointing at him, “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’m banning you from the shop.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“I didn’t know you had the power to do that,” he replies, using his crossed arms to lean on the table.

“I do now,” you say, tilting your chin up, “Gonna put a picture up of you with a big X on it and everything.” You stare at each other for a second, and he breaks first, ducking his head as he laughs.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, looking up at you through his lashes. Your heart skips a beat, but you do your best to seem unaffected. This is your friend’s brother, for Christ’s sake. You can’t be all aflutter over him. You’re not sure you have a choice in the matter.

June, 2023

You might actually kill your coworker one day. He’s such a smug rat bastard, and every meeting including both of you makes you think you’re going to grind your teeth into dust. It’s just lucky that the job is remote, so you don’t have to be around him physically. Probably best for both your sanity and his safety.

“I mean, at least you were right in the end?” Terri says, sounding uncertain through your headphones. You’re sauteeing some onions and peppers, moving them around more than you should be just for something to do with your hands.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don’t understand why he wants to make me look bad.” Ian– the coworker– seems to always have some kind of comment on your work, some type of criticism. Constructive criticism is part of the game, but his is never constructive. It doesn’t help that you’re the only two in the graphics department, so he’s always there when you present work. And really, being the only two should mean that you work together and support each other, honestly.

“Because he’s an insecure man-child,” Terri replies easily. You shake your head down at the vegetables, startling as the oven timer goes off. You jab at the button to turn it off, opening the door to remove the chicken.

“I think I’ve had enough of insecure man-children,” you grumble. You cut open one of the chicken breasts with more force than is strictly necessary, grateful that it seems to be done.

“You finally wanna talk about that?” Terri asks, and honestly? No, you don’t. Ideally, you’ll never talk about it, just push it down into the darkest recesses of your mind and bury it there. Unfortunately, you possess some level of emotional maturity, which means you know that you have to talk about it eventually.

It’s hard, because despite Brady being your best friend, you can’t exactly talk to him about this. If he knew any part of what’s been going on, he’d probably go physically fight Matthew on your behalf. Part of you thinks that might actually make you feel a little better. But he’d also probably be mad that you’ve had a not-thing with his brother, and that would make you feel worse.

“She seems like a nice woman,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. Terri sighs, and you take your plate of food to the living room to eat.

“She’s not the problem, here,” she says. She’s right, and you know it. You really don’t have anything against Tessa, and obviously you can’t blame her for any of this. Clearly, she had no idea about your not-thing with Matthew, and genuinely fell for him. There’s no point in being mad at her.

“Yeah, well,” you push some food around your plate, “He’s a fuckface and she can have him.” The mention of Matthew has ruined your appetite, the meal now looking completely unappealing. You push the plate to the other side of the coffee table with a huff. You’ll try eating again later, you tell yourself, knowing that you haven’t been eating nearly enough lately. You can’t help it, your inner turmoil chasing away your hunger most of the time.

“He is a fuckface,” Terri agrees, adding, “But don’t pretend you don’t still want him.” Ugh. Friends are the worst, actually, and you should just become a hermit in a cave somewhere. There’s no point even trying to deny the claim, both of you knowing that she’s right.

“I’m not allowed to want him anymore,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you want to admit, “I never should have let myself want him in the first place.” In the beginning, despite being attracted to Matthew, it was easy to maintain distance. He was in Calgary most of the year, and reminding yourself that he was your new friend’s brother actually worked as a deterrent back then.

You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started letting yourself get caught up, but you’d ended up completely entangled with him. Now he’s put that distance back between you, ripping away the strings you’d been tied up in, leaving you with all these empty spaces where he used to be. And it’s making you hate yourself, knowing that if you’d just kept things cordial, restricted your attention and connection to Brady like you should have, you wouldn’t be feeling any of this right now.

“You can’t help who you love,” Terri says, so gently that it only hurts more. You’re not fragile, okay? You don’t need the softness, the careful handling. You’re not fragile. You’re not.

“I gotta go eat,” you say, not wanting to lie, but needing a way out of the conversation, “Bye, Ter.” She says your name, but you just repeat the goodbye. She sighs, says goodbye, and you hang up. What you should do is eat something and go to sleep. Instead, you eye the easel in the corner of the living room. You sigh, heaving yourself up off of the couch to go grab a glass of water to rinse your brushes with.

April, 2019

It’s probably going to become your new favorite day of the year: the day Brady comes home from Ottawa. His plane had landed yesterday, and his parents had even brought you to the airport with them to pick him up. As quickly as you’d bonded last summer, you’d only gotten closer through the season. It feels like you can talk to each other about anything, like you were meant to meet, like he’s the platonic version of a soulmate. You had patiently waited your turn to hug him after his parents, squeezing him as tightly as you could manage. He’d only squeezed back harder.

With their seasons ending right around the same time this year, Matthew had landed the same night. Knowing they’d have to go back to the airport, the Tkachuks had decided to just spend the day out instead of going home. They’d invited you to come with them, an invitation you’d eagerly accepted. They’re quickly starting to feel like family to you, and you love spending time with them. For the first time in your life, it feels like you fit somewhere.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to come along to pick up Matthew. You’d had to work last night, so the Tkachuks had dropped you off at home to get changed and get going. You’d still gotten to spend most of the day with them, which would have to be enough.

You’re going over to their place today, and you decided to bake and bring along cookies. All of their local family and friends are going to be there to welcome the boys home, and you haven’t met most of them yet, so you want to make a good first impression. Besides, it’s just polite to bring something along to someone’s house.

Though Brady still tries to hug you when you arrive, despite your hands being full, the plates need to be deposited on the dining room table before he can get a real one. There are a few people chatting in the room, so Brady introduces you to them.

Most of the next hour goes much the same, Brady introducing you to family and friends, having small conversations with all of them. You know that Brady isn’t trying to embarrass you, but he has a habit of hyping you up to people. He’s more outgoing than you are, and he uses that social ease to brag about how smart you are, how talented. It feels a little like he’s trying to justify being your friend to them, but you know better than to think that Brady cares what anyone thinks of him and his choices.

The kitchen exits onto a large cherry wood deck, scattered with chairs, some of them already occupied. The back yard is sprawling, green grass lined with lush bushes. There’s a pool to the right, not opened for the summer yet, a jacuzzi positioned between it and the house. You’re still not really used to all of this, the casual wealth of the family. It’s so far from what you’d grown up with, something that had astonished you when you’d realized just how far above you the Tkachuks are.

There are a few yard games set up in the grass, cornhole and ladders and something you don’t recognize. And there, in the center of the yard, Matthew is teaching a child how to play ladders. The kid is probably a cousin, of which they have many. Matthew is barefoot, wearing a bright red Flames hoodie and black shorts that only come to mid-thigh. You’ve narrowed your staring down to a minimum, so your eyes only linger for a second or two before you turn back to Brady.

He guides you around to meet the few people braving the chilly spring weather, much as he had done inside. Everyone is so nice, saying how pleased they are to meet you, and seeming to mean it.

Your last stop is Matthew, who interrupts his lesson to hug you. It’s only the second time the two of you have done so, the first having been the last time you saw him before he left for the season. Despite that fact, he squeezes you almost as hard as Brady had, as if you’re his best friend too. Not that you’d presume to be Brady’s best friend, but. Still.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says when you pull apart, and the expression on his face tells you how genuine it is. Your smile is almost involuntary, turning up the corners of your mouth and baring just a hint of teeth.

“Welcome home, Matthew,” you reply, “We missed you.” You’re not sure what “we” you’re referring to, but it feels less incriminating than saying “I missed you”. You get the feeling that he understands anyway, beaming at you.

The three of you chat for a few minutes, Matthew introducing you to his little cousin. With there being four of you, you decide to play a game of ladders, to test the little one’s skills. He’s pretty good, for a kid, and you and Brady make sure to throw well enough to convince him that you’re trying, but still let him win. Throughout, Matthew gives him tips and instruction, so kind and gentle that it makes your heart ache. They cheer when they win, high fiving and teasing you and Brady.

You go inside to spend some time with Keith and Chantal. Chantal gives you a big hug, as if she hadn’t just seen you yesterday. Keith gives you a hearty clap on the shoulder. Taryn appears at some point, sneaking up behind you and poking your sides to make you jump. You laugh along with her, enfolding her into the conversation easily.

Time flies by, the sun setting around you, the house lights turning on one by one as darkness descends. Eventually, you end up lounging in the den with the other adult kids. From your visits last year, the chair in the corner has become yours. You’re settled in, legs folded up under you as something that no one is watching plays on the TV. Brady and Taryn get into a heated debate about something or another, and Matthew gives you a long-suffering look as his younger siblings bicker. You just smile back at him, finding the family’s passion entirely endearing.

“Seventeen years of this,” Matthew gripes, clearly not as annoyed as he’s trying to seem.

“And sixty more to go,” you reply. Matthew chuckles at that, looking to Brady and Taryn with such fondness that you almost can’t stand it. It’s the kind of relationship you’d wanted with your own brothers, but that’s best not to think about.

“Hopefully,” Matthew says, turning that fond look toward you. Your heart skips a beat, and you’ve gotten good at ignoring that.

May, 2019

You shouldn’t be this nervous, but you are. Terri is on speaker phone, telling you about her new job. You’re half-listening, staring at the clothing laid out on your bed. You’ve been agonizing all morning about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to do your makeup, if you should wear makeup at all.

“I’m glad that your boss defended you,” you say to Terri, still tuned in enough to follow her story, “She seems cool.”

“She’s so cool,” Terri gushes, “She’s my favorite now.” You’re so happy that Terri has finally found a good job, especially with how hellish her previous one had been. This one pays almost double what she was getting before, too, which definitely doesn’t hurt. She expounds a little more about the things she loves about her boss, and you decide to hang back up the dresses you’ve laid out. It’s still a little too chilly to wear them, especially after sundown.

“You’re still staring at those damn clothes, aren’t you?” Terri asks, switching the topic suddenly. Your face gets warm as you make a plaintive hand gesture, despite her not being able to see you.

“Clothes are stupid and I can’t decide,” you complain, trying to imagine how each of the final two options will come across. If you try too hard, Matthew might think that you think this is a date, but you still want to look good. You know it’s not a date, but you’re still kind of acting like it is, and it’s embarrassing.

“Definitely wear jeans,” Terri advises, “That’ll make it more casual.” You agree, putting away the skirt you’d paired with the one shirt, trying to picture how it would look with jeans. You move the pants between each shirt, before giving up and just putting them on. You’ll just try on both outfits and see which one you like better.

Once dressed in the first option, you take a picture to send to Terri. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that. After a minute or two of consideration, you switch tops. You take another picture and send both to Terri for her opinion.

“Oh, definitely the second one,” she says, “The first one makes you look like you’re going to a job interview.” You look at the picture again, and can’t deny that she’s right. You put that one away, settled in your decision. You’re not sure if Matthew has ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, so you hope the red tank top layered with a tucked-in sheer pink printed blouse isn’t too much of a change.

When Matthew had invited you to take a walk around the park yesterday, just the two of you. You’ve never spent more than a few minutes alone with him, always having Brady or Taryn or Emma to provide distraction and distance. This time you’ll have nothing to focus on but him.

The time comes soon enough, and you gather your things, not wanting to make Matthew wait for you when he arrives. You’d offered to drive yourself and meet him there, but he’d waved off the idea immediately, saying that he’d pick you up.

A knock comes at your door right on time. You take a deep breath before you open it, settling your frenzied heart. Matthew smiles as soon as he sees you.

“Oh wow,” he says, almost absentmindedly, “You look great.” Your blush is immediate, and you hope he can’t see it. It seems that anything that comes out of his mouth makes you blush, sometimes.

The drive to the park isn’t too long. When you arrive, you gather your bag from the floor of the passenger seat, and by time you move to get a hand on the door handle, Matthew is already opening the door from the outside. It’s a sweet surprise, and you thank him as you climb out of the car.

It’s a nice day, not too cold or windy for once. The two of you walk, talking about this and that, moving from topic to topic as they arise. You point out a few birds as you go, and Matthew listens to the little fun facts you give about them. He seems genuinely interested, but even if he’s not, at least he’s polite enough to pretend.

“I guess we should have left a little earlier,” Matthew remarks as the sun goes down, the light fading around you. The sun sets quickly this time of year, so you’re still a few minutes out from the car by time it’s completely dark. The lights along the pathway bathe Matthew in yellow light, casting warm shadows in the dips and hollows of his face.

“At least I have a big, strong man to protect me,” you joke, elbowing him.

“Oh no, if we get jumped I’m running,” he replies, shooting a shit-eating grin down at you. You gasp and press a hand to your heart, as if you’re truly scandalized.

“You would really abandon me like that?” you ask. His smile softens at the edges.

“Never,” he says, looking so genuine that it makes your heart flutter, pausing before he adds, “Unless we’re getting robbed.” Your combined laughter rings out through the trees.

June, 2023

You’ve managed to avoid any questions about your odd behavior, and it’s getting easier to act normal over time. A couple weeks have passed since your first meeting with Tessa, and you still feel like ripping your skin off when you see her touching Matthew, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it. It’s not your place to be upset, anyway.

The diner is bustling at this time of day, the tail end of lunch rush. You had to wait a little bit to get seated, but now you’re sitting at the end of a booth in a chair they’d pulled up to the edge to make up for all five of you not fitting into the booth. It makes you feel a little left out, the only one not paired off, a fifth wheel to the two couples on either side of the table. You block that out, a skill you’ve had for years, but have had to strengthen rapidly over the past few weeks.

Brady has an arm around Emma’s shoulders, and you can tell by the angle of Matthew’s arm that he has a hand on Tessa’s thigh. You remember when that was you, Matthew touching you so casually, so naturally. Sitting across from Matthew as he nudges your foot under the table, sitting next to him with your shoulders pressed together, fingers tangled together on the seat, where no one could see.

Emma is telling a story about a night out with some of her girlfriends, and you’re laughing along at the antics with everyone else. When she asks you about work, you try to clear the perpetual lump in your throat before answering, succeeding in sounding happy, though the tightness remains.

When your food arrives, you spend most of the time pushing it around your plate to make it look like you’re eating. You never have an appetite around Matthew anymore, weirdly embarrassed about being seen eating in a way you haven’t been since you were a teenager. You’ll take it home and eat it later, if you can stop thinking about Matthew for two fucking seconds.

You’re not sure how long that’s going to be impossible, but you hope it’s not much longer.

January, 2020

You’ve been to a few games when the boys have played the Blues, but you’ve never made the trip up to Canada to see them play each other before. Ottawa is nice, Brady and Emma having shown you around a little when you’d arrived. Your nerves had been shot from the anxiety of traveling abroad for the first time, even though it was just to Canada. The couple seemed to understand, only taking you around for a few hours before bringing you home.

Brady’s apartment is nice, really nice. He’s offered you the guest room for a few days, and you appreciate not having to pay for a hotel. He’ll be home for six days before he has to go to St. Louis for the All Star game, so you’d arranged to stay in Ottawa and fly back home with them.

Luckily, the cafe is pretty cool about rearranging your schedule, so you’ll just have to work some extra days when you go back to make up for what you’re missing. You’d asked for the days of the skills competition and game off as well, Brady having managed to get you a ticket. Your manager has always thought it was cool that you were friends with the Tkachuks, so she had agreed to give you the time off if you brought her a souvenir. Matthew and Brady had offered to sign a jersey for her without you even having to ask, and you’ll owe them for a while, though they insist you don’t.

Matthew gets in that first night, the three of you meeting him at his hotel. You’re not sure how he managed it, but he’ll be staying a few days instead of returning to Calgary with the team after the game. Maybe he got a special exception because this game is the last before All Star week, and he has to go to St. Louis anyway. No matter the reason, you’re glad he gets to stay.

The game the next night is exciting, and definitely worth the trip. With the Senators’ performance in recent years, it’s mostly the diehard fans left, so the atmosphere is electric. You get swept up in the passion and joy, especially when the game ends with a 5-2 win for Ottawa.

The boys have to debrief and get changed, which you know will take a while. Emma and you wait with the WAGs, Emma excited to introduce you to them. Some of them think you’re a new WAG at first, which is honestly kind of flattering. All of the ladies are surprisingly kind and welcoming, and you enjoy interacting with them as you all wait.

Matthew emerges first, guided down the hallway by one of the arena staff. His steps pick up pace when he sees you and Emma, and he shoots a quick thanks to the staff member before jogging over to the two of you. He immediately enfolds you in his arms, squeezing tight and holding longer than usual. You know it’s difficult for him to lose at all, let alone to his brother, so you let him hold you as long as he wants.

Once he lets you go, he meets your eyes. His smile is soft, tinged with a slight sadness that you want to wipe away.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” he greets, and your breath catches at the term of endearment. He’d started using it a few months ago, and it still makes your chest tight. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, but you still imagine sometimes that it does.

He turns his attention to Emma, giving her a hug as well, just one quick squeeze before releasing. The three of you start talking, waiting patiently for Brady. It doesn’t shock you that he takes so long to come out, knowing his unofficial position of leadership in the team. The guys come out one by one, hugging and kissing their wives and girlfriends, the number of ladies dwindling as they leave with their men.

When Brady finally emerges, he heads straight over to give Emma a hug and kiss. He hugs you next, before punching Matthew’s shoulder. They have a little back-and-forth as you all exit the arena, taking harmless jabs at each other all the way to the car.

The main issue with the living arrangements for the trip had been that Brady and Emma were going to have two guests and only one spare room. Matthew had offered to sleep on the couch, but he’s too tall for that, and you don’t want him to end up sore or hurting his neck during the season. You’d insisted that you’d sleep on the couch, but both Matthew and Brady had immediately vetoed that idea. Then you’d found out that the guest room has two twin beds instead of one bigger one, and the answer was simple.

Matthew sets his suitcase and backpack next to the door when you get home. You’ve already claimed the bed on the far side, so he gets set up on the one closer to the door. Emma and Brady are in the kitchen, making a post-game snack for everyone, so it’s just you and Matthew.

“You excited to be roomies for a week?” he asks, unzipping his suitcase. Yours is already open under the window, so you grab some pajamas out of it.

“Depends how loud you snore,” you tease. He shoots you a toothy smile.

“Oh, it’s gonna be loud,” he says. You chuckle a bit, knowing he’s joking. Emma calls for you, then, and you leave your clothes on the bed to go to her. The four of you converse as you eat, seated in a row at the kitchen island. You’ve got Matthew to one side and Brady to the other, and they take turns kicking your ankles. You kick back, grinning at Emma when she kicks Brady’s other side.

Brady and Matthew had already showered at the rink, so they sit in the living room while you and Emma get ready for bed. She uses the master suite, and you use the bathroom in the hall. It’s nice, if small, with a simple stall shower instead of a tub. You go through your routine on autopilot, only realizing when you’re done that you’d left your clothes in the bedroom. You wrap yourself in a towel, doing your best to sneak past the door to the living room.

When you look to make sure your stealth is working, you meet Matthew’s eyes. It stops you in your tracks. You can’t discern the look on his face, and you’re not sure that you care to. He shoots you an easy smile, and you wave at him like an idiot, acting on instinct. It only makes him smile wider, and you scurry off to the room.

After you’re dressed, there’s a knock on the door. Brady asks if you’re decent, and you confirm that you are, so he peeks his head in. Once he sees that you truly are dressed, he opens the door the rest of the way. He and Emma bid you good night, telling you to just ask if you need anything. You thank them and say good night in return, Matthew entering the room as soon as the other two retreat to their own room. He’s barely two steps into the room before he’s pulling off his shirt.

“Woah there, cowboy,” you say, holding up a hand in front of you. He just shrugs at you.

“Gotta get ready for bed,” he says, bending over and lifting his foot to remove his socks. You’d figured that he would wear a t-shirt and shorts to bed like you, but you should’ve guessed he’d be the type to sleep shirtless, no matter who’s around. He’s naked in front of thirty people every day, who cares about being shirtless?

You do your best to brush it off, turning down the covers of your bed so that you can crawl in. Normally, you would read for a bit before bed, but you’re tired enough tonight that you don’t think you need to. You pull the blankets up to your chin, turning on your side. Unfortunately, you sleep on your right, so you end up facing Matthew’s bed. Is that weird? Should you try sleeping the opposite direction?

Matthew doesn’t say anything, flicking the lights off and crawling into bed. He sleeps on his left, apparently, so he’s facing you too. That’s a little awkward, right? As your eyes adjust to the dark, you’re able to see the glint of his teeth as he smiles over at you.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he says quietly. You return the sentiment, grateful that the darkness means he probably can’t fully see the embarrassment on your face. You’re backlit by the window, so you convince yourself that he can’t.

The next morning, you wake to Matthew already out of bed, stretching. Your eyes roam his back, taking in the dips and ridges of his muscles. Only at the last second do you realize that his head is turned to the side, and he’s staring at you through the corner of his eye. You quickly avert your gaze, turning to sit bolt upright on the other side of the bed, facing the window.

The four of you spend the day exploring the city, Brady and Emma seeming to have planned what they want to show you. It’s nice, peaceful and fun. You make them take pictures with you in front of landmarks or cool art pieces, all of you squished together to fit in the selfie.

It isn’t until the fourth night that anything out of the ordinary happens. You’re lying in bed, having turned on your back to stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You probably shouldn’t have had that affogato after dinner, though usually they don’t bother you this much. No matter how long you toss and turn, how many sleeping positions you try, you can’t even make yourself tired, let alone actually fall asleep.

“What are you, a rotisserie chicken?” Matthew asks rhetorically, breaking the silence. His voice is hushed, but it still startles you. You turn your head to stare at him, finding him staring right back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sheepish, “I can’t sleep.” Matthew’s lips quirk up at one end.

“Me either,” he says, sitting up. You mimic his posture, then scoot back to lean against the headboard. He slings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, and you think for a second that he’s going to turn on the light. Instead, he takes the two steps to your bed, motioning to the mattress. You nod, prompting him to start shoving your shoulder, bullying you into making space for him. You giggle, trying to keep quiet to respect the late hour.

“So,” he leads, taking a long moment to just stare at you before continuing, “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You’re taken off guard by the request, not sure how to respond.

“I was an Aaron Carter girl growing up,” you pull out of thin air. Matthew’s face breaks into a wide smile, sunshine in the middle of the night.

“Really?” he asks. You nod, mumbling “yeah” in confirmation. That’s all it takes to get you both talking. You trade off back and forth, telling each other small things about yourself that may not come up otherwise, launching into short discussions about some of the statements.

“My favorite color is red,” he says at one point, when you’re starting to think you may fall asleep.

“I thought it was blue?” you reply, remembering Chantal mention that at some point. Matthew starts fiddling with his hands.

“I tell people it’s blue, but it’s really red,” he says. You tilt your head an inch or two, furrowing your brow at him.

“Why?” you ask. He ducks his head.

“Red is an angry color,” he explains, voice quieter than before, “With my reputation, I don’t want people to associate me with an aggressive color. I don’t want to play into the stereotype.” You hum, looking forward. It feels like this isn’t the best time to look at him, like he’ll clam up if you witness his vulnerability.

“It’s also the color of vitality, excitement, love,” you counter, leaving just a breath of a pause, “It’s a good color for you.” The entire room is still for a dragging moment, before Matthew gently knocks your shoulders together.

“What about you?” he asks when you look back to him. There’s a fraction of a change in his face, but you don’t comment on it.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still sitting up, head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, his head laying on top of yours. You suppress the instinct to startle, not wanting to disrupt him, lest he wake up and move. His skin is warm under your cheek, your arms lined up from shoulder to the knuckles of your fingers. You close your eyes again, trying to keep your breathing steady, as if you’re still sleeping. You’ve been trying so hard to keep distance between Matthew and yourself, but you’ll allow yourself to enjoy this, just for a moment longer.

There’s a shift in Matthew’s breathing, his fingers twitching against yours. It settles after a second, into a different pattern, intentionally deep and even. You’re sure that he’s awake, that he’s doing the same thing that you are. You’re not sure what to do with that information.

The rest of the trip goes by smoothly, Brady and Emma showing you both the touristy things and the better local spots around the city. If the same thing happens the next night, and the night after that, you and Matthew talking in low voices until you fall asleep against each other, neither of you mention it.

April, 2020

While the initial prediction for lockdown was that it would only last a month, it’s clear that it’s going to last much, much longer.

It’s probably lucky that you’d just started a new job, one that can be done remotely, rather than either working at the coffee shop or being laid off. It’s not exactly what you want to do, but it’s at least in the artistic field, so you try to be grateful anyway. It’s difficult being locked away in your apartment, but you’re grateful that you’re luckier than essential workers and people who are losing their jobs altogether.

The thing that keeps you sane in all of this is your phone. More specifically, it’s your friends. You’ve developed almost a schedule with it, calling Terri in the morning for an hour or so before work. At lunch, you facetime Brady and Emma for another hour, not envying them being stuck so far from home. It must be hard to be in an entirely different country than your family.

The highlight of each day is the evening, when you facetime Matthew. Though he spends most of the day sending you videos and memes and updates about whatever little thing he’s doing at the moment, it’s still nice to talk to him out loud. Seeing his face helps your growing loneliness a little bit.

You’re in your living room, your phone propped up against the arm of the couch as you show off the few things you’ve made since picking up crochet a couple weeks ago. Matthew compliments each of them, commending you for your improvement. He’s the only one you’ve shown, too embarrassed to let anyone else see the wonky scarves with uneven stitches.

“You have time to work on any paintings lately?” he asks, once you’re done your little show and tell. The truth is that you’ve got three new canvases drying in the kitchen. The truth is also that the man asking about them is the inspiration for their creation. There’s nothing incriminating about them; it’s not like they’re portraits of him or something. But you’re still hesitant to show him, because even if he doesn’t know, you do.

You show him anyway. The painting of the park is his favorite, and you wonder if he knows that it’s the one you went to for your first time alone together. It’s mostly dark, greens and blues so deep they look black, yellow triangles of light splitting the canvas into section. If you look closely enough, the brush strokes fill in the details of the trees, the grass, the pavement. Your phone camera isn’t good enough for Matthew to see that, but he compliments it anyway.

“You should paint me something for my apartment,” he says after you show him all three. You’re not opposed to the idea, actually enjoy the thought of something you made being showcased in his home.

“What do you want?” you ask, a hundred ideas already flitting through your mind. The only way you’ve seen his apartment is through the background of pictures he sends you sometimes, or little glimpses you catch as he walks around while you facetime. You’re not entirely sure of the vibe, but you’re sure you can figure something out.

“What makes you think of me?” he asks in return. You stop in your tracks in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The hand holding your phone lowers a couple inches unintentionally, your gaze drifting above the screen, staring into the middle distance. What makes you think of him? Hockey, obviously. Family. Curling up under a blanket on a cold night. Laying on the couch with your feet up on the armrest, your head propped up on a pillow, a sad replacement for his lap. Spruce trees, gold, pitbulls, mushroom pizza, black eyes– both the drink and the wound.

Everything. Everything makes you think of him.

You can’t say that, obviously. You search your brain for something personal but innocuous, something sentimental but still acceptable. You think of all the time that you two have spent together over the past few years, memories springing up, some that you’d even forgotten about. Some that you’ll never be able to forget about.

“Can I surprise you?” you ask. You’re given that familiar smile in response, any iteration of which makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Yeah,” he says, propping his face up with one hand on his jaw, “I trust you.”

July, 2023

Some people may say that Terri’s apartment is cluttered, but you just find it cozy. She has decorations and knick-knacks on every surface, but the comfiest couch you’ve ever sat on. That’s where you are now, stretched out with your back against the side, Terri mimicking your posture at the other end, your legs tangled together in the middle.

“We should see the Barbie movie when it comes out,” she says, unprompted. You look up from the hook and yarn in your hands, tipping your head to the side for a second and shrugging.

“It looks good,” you say, an indirect agreement. You haven’t been to the movies since before lockdown, so it might be nice to go back.

“D’you think Gabe would want to come?” she asks cautiously, “He could bring the kids.” The mention of your brother still makes ice crawl in your chest, but it’s not as bad as it once was. He’d reached out last year, trying to reconnect with you, and apparently your other brother too. You’ve only seen him a few times since, but it’s more than you’d seen him in the four years prior, combined.

“It’s worth a shot, right?” Terri asks, eyes flicking toward your phone sitting on the coffee table. You look toward it as well, debating for a second. It would be nice to see your nieces and nephews, but it also hurts that they barely know who you are.

“Yeah,” you agree after a second, “Worth a shot.” You grab your phone, feeling as if it’s going to explode in your hands if you move too quickly. There are a few notifications when you wake the screen, which you ignore to unlock it. You open your texts, backing out of your thread with Terri from earlier. You have a picture message from Brady, just a selfie of him and Emma smiling, which you send a heart in response to. Backing out of that thread, you see another new message, underneath the contact name you haven’t had the heart to change. The red and purple hearts next to his name– each of your favorite colors– having been there so long that getting rid of them feels wrong, no matter how it makes your chest hurt to see them.

Can we talk?

You tap the back button as quickly as you can. You can’t respond. You should, to be polite, but you can’t. If you do, you’ll say something you regret. It’ll probably be agreement or the words “eat shit”, and either option will get you into trouble. You can’t respond. You want so badly to talk to him. You want so desperately to go back in time and never meet him.

Your fingers tremble as you draft a text to your brother, typing and deleting and re-typing a few times before you settle on the wording. You have more important things to worry about than Matthew.

August, 2020

The bubble was an interesting idea. It may not be the best idea in the world, despite the safety precautions, but you know Matthew is just happy to be back on the ice. He’s already sent you a dozen pictures of the hotel, of him with his teammates and friends, masked up together in the lobby. You tell him to tell the boys that you say hello, and he texts you each of their responses.

The first round goes well, the Flames only losing one game to the Jets. You know Matthew had been worried about going through all the rules and protocols just to be eliminated immediately, so you’re glad that that isn’t the case.

The series against the Stars starts out with an exciting back-and-forth, the teams trading off wins. Then the Stars win game 5, breaking the pattern. You’re not expecting the last game to actually be the last, convinced that the Flames would at least make it to a game seven. But the Stars pull a decisive 7-3 win, the Flames falling apart in the second period and unable to get themselves back together.

Matthew has called you as soon as he got back to his hotel room after every game, so you’re expecting your phone to ring some time in the next hour or two. You putter around the apartment a little, putting away some dishes and wiping down the kitchen counters. You’d been painting during the game, a commission from a friend of a friend of a friend. You return to that, losing yourself in the meticulous movements of your brush.

It feels like it’s been too long. You try to focus on the canvas in front of you, but there’s a nagging sense in the back of your mind that something is wrong. It sits heavy at the base of your skull as you try to ignore it.

Eventually, it becomes too much. You check your phone to make sure that you haven’t missed his call, but there are no notifications. It’s been a little over two hours. You unlock your phone and pull up his contact in a second, pressing the video icon. Typically, he’ll pick up after one or two rings, but you hear the third ring, the fourth. The call disconnects, shock shooting up your spine. It only lasts a second, your phone ringing with a voice call almost immediately.

“Hey sweet girl,” Matthew greets you in his typical fashion as soon as you accept the call. There’s something off about his voice, and it takes you a second to realize what it is.

“Hey there, darling,” you respond, voice as gentle as you can manage. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Matthew cry, but it breaks your heart every time. As much as he tries to seem tough and aloof, you know how deeply losses like this affect him. Now it makes sense that he didn’t want video involved.

“How are you?” he asks, clearly moving his face away from the receiver as he sniffles, but you can still hear it. You move to the couch, sinking into the cushions, as if you’re as crushed as he is.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “You holding up okay?” You know he’ll say that he’s fine, but you also know that he’s not. He may not be for a while. There’s a pause, a long stretch of silence, only interrupted by his deep, labored breaths.

“I wish you were here,” he says. He sounds absolutely miserable, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. The urge to hold him is overwhelming, your arms buzzing with the desire to wrap around him. You want to pull him down into your lap, let him tuck his head into the crook of your neck, let him cry on you as you scratch his scalp and kiss his head. Lockdown isn’t the only reason that can’t happen.

“I’m going to hug you so hard,” you insist, “As soon as I can see you again.”

July, 2023

While you’re still a third wheel with Brady and Emma, it’s better than being a fifth wheel with the entire group. You’d asked Taryn if she wanted to tag along, but she has training to do. Brady had already done his that morning, so he’s free for the rest of the day, and had invited you to spend some time together.

You’re certain that he doesn’t know how you feel about this place, how much it hurts to be here. As far as he’s aware, this is your favorite park, the one you visit with Matthew at least a few times a month every summer. He probably thinks it’s a great choice, something to cheer you up from the slump you know he’s noticed.

Despite the memories tugging at you from every direction, you’re mostly in a good mood. You’d gotten excellent news the day before yesterday, an opportunity you’ve dreamed of for a long time. You wanted to text Brady right after the meeting to tell him, but you’d decided it was better to share it with him and Emma in person. You’re debating something that absolutely doesn’t matter, all of you talking over each other. You’re waiting for the right moment to change the conversation. It doesn’t come until almost an hour into your walk, but you jump on it as soon as it does.

“I have some cool news,” you say, breaking the silent pause that had fallen over the group.

“Well?” Emma replies, “Go on.” The excitement is bubbling up inside of you again at the thought of it, your stomach turning, your chest too full.

“You know that gallery downtown that I love?” you ask, continuing after they agree, “I’m going to do a show there.” They stop in their tracks, Emma immediately enfolding you in her arms. You hug her back, squeezing tight as she bounces on her toes. When she pulls back, she holds your face in her hands, voice high and thrilled as she congratulates you. The smile on your face is unavoidable, happiness from the news mingling with the happiness of your friends being proud of you.

“Cool news, huh?” Brady asks, lightly smacking your shoulder as he says, “What an understatement.” The circle of his arms feels safe, his chest warm against your cheek as he holds you tight. The look on his face when he releases you is the best reaction you’ve gotten so far, his pride meaning more than anyone else’s.

“When is it?” he asks, taking Emma’s hand in his own once again and resuming the walk. You follow along, too excited to be self-conscious of the visible skip in your step.

“August 20th,” you say. There’s an unspoken question there, a silent invitation. You don’t want him to feel pressured to come, knowing that despite how supportive he is of your artistic endeavors, he’s not big on things like art shows. In the end, you don’t have to ask.

“You know we’re coming, right?” he asks, aiming a crooked smile at you, “You can’t stop us.” Though the smile hasn’t left your face since you brought up the topic, it gets brighter in return.

“I’d never dream of trying to,” you reply, and you mean it.

October, 2020

It’s odd to have the boys around at this time of year, the season usually taking them away at the end of August. You’re grateful for it, though. It means that you get to spend time with them, lockdown finally over, freeing you from the confines of your apartment. Your job has stayed remote, so you’re able to be around even more, saving time on what used to be an hour long commute each way.

Right now, it’s you and the boys, Emma, and Terri. You’d introduced her to them less than a month ago, but they already love her, just as you knew they would. She doesn’t always come around with you, considering how you spend nearly every day at the Tkachuks’, but she has some time today.

After twenty minutes of debating what you should watch, you all agree on a true crime documentary. You’ve given up your chair for Terri, squishing yourself onto the couch with Brady and Emma, pressing your cold feet against her leg and laughing when she yelps. She kicks you, only serving to make you laugh harder. Brady playfully threatens to fight you to defend his woman’s honor, and you put your fists up in front of you, jabbing out into the air as if you’re going to take him up on the offer. He chuckles, reaching out to fist bump you instead of punch. You drop your hands, looking past his big ass head.

Matthew is lounging in the second chair, the leg rest of the recliner up despite his legs being crossed under him. It’s the only way the chair will lean back, he’d told you once, and he doesn’t like sitting upright.

The smile on his face isn’t the wide grin you’d expected. It’s small, a gentle turn of the lips. Combined with the look he’s giving you– something unfocused, something unbearably soft– it implies an emotion that you know can’t be the correct interpretation. You swallow hard, turning your eyes back to Brady.

“Press play already, nerd,” you demand, tone playful enough to show that you don’t mean it. He sticks his tongue out at you, but does as he’s told.

Five minutes in, you glance over at Matthew, finding him already looking at you. You look away, slightly embarrassed to be caught. Another five minutes later, you can’t help but peek back at him again, as if your eyes are magnetized to him. It’s almost disappointing that he’s actually looking at the screen. It only takes a second for his eyes to move to the side, peering at you in his peripheral. The corner of his lips quirks up the tiniest bit, almost unnoticeable. But you notice.

You only make it maybe half an hour into the film before Matthew leans forward and snatches the remote from its place next to Brady. The plaintive sound Brady lets out is kind of funny, but you seem to think everything is funny today. Matthew pauses the show, declaring that the group needs snacks.

“Y/N, come give me a hand,” he says, beckoning you to follow him. You grumble a bit, but stand and follow him up the stairs and out of the den. He leads the way through the living room and into the kitchen. They’re fancy, so they have a walk-in pantry, of course. The two of you enter one after another. You start looking at the snack section, deciding what to grab. The good thing about being the one to retrieve the food is that you get to choose whatever you want and there’s nothing the others can say about it.

You’re rifling through the chips and pretzels when you feel a presence close behind you. It’s obviously Matthew, but he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his body radiating into your back. His left hand comes into your field of vision, pressing to the shelves next to your head. You twist your neck to look back at him, confused as to what he’s doing.

You’re not expecting the look he’s giving you. His eyes dark, completely focused in on your face. Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth without your permission. He’s not smiling, his lips parted just a fraction of an inch.

He rests his right hand on your shoulder, using it to turn your entire body around to face him. You can feel how dumbfounded your expression is as you stare up at him, your brow furrowed, your mouth slightly agape. He returns the gesture of looking at your mouth, his tongue quickly flicking out to wet his lips. He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. You would let him.

There’s a long, unbearable stretch of silence as the two of you just stare at each other, faces only a scant few inches apart. If this were anyone else, you would know exactly what’s going on, exactly what they want. But this is Matthew, your insanely wonderful, insanely hot, insanely out of your league friend. There’s no chance that he’s about to do what it feels like he is. No matter how many times you steal glances at each other, how closely he holds you, how many times he allows himself to be vulnerable with you, there’s no chance he’d ever want you. And just as you tell yourself that, he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his breath brushing across your lips from the proximity. Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open wider in shock. You’ve spent the last two years valiantly suppressing any type of attraction you have to him, trying to respect his station as your best friend’s brother. And now, in just four words, he’s let it all loose. It floods you inside, so overwhelming, so much to take all at once that it triggers a full system reset. You swear your heart stops, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to tear the words from your lagging brain.

The words won’t come. The look on Matthew’s face is changing, something embarrassed, something guilty. He moves back an inch and you reach out, unwilling to let him go. You cup his face in your hands, pulling him in to press your lips together.

It’s lingering, almost chaste, and entirely sensational. Your lips are tingling, sparks shooting down your spine. Your chest feels cracked open, your innards exposed for his inspection, your true self exposed for his judgment.

When you pull back and open your eyes, his are still closed. He looks like he’s in heaven, like he’s trying to imprint this moment in his mind the same way that you are. After a moment, his eyelids slide up and he looks at you again. His eyes are hazy, unfocused, his blown pupils leaving only a thin ring of blue around the edge of his iris.

“Again,” he says, breathless, “Please.”

Who are you to deny him?

The second kiss is as good as the first, your breath abandoning your body to pant out against his lips. You meet again, his tongue flicking out for half a second to touch your top lip. It makes you breath hitch, makes you kiss him again, makes you gently bite his full bottom lip. The sound he lets out is barely audible, but it only feeds the fire inside of you, an inferno that blazes up from your hips to your throat. You cradle his face in your hands, hold just strong enough to move his head how you want, to slot your mouths together perfectly each time.

“Hurry up, asshole!”

Brady’s shout violently snaps you out of your haze. You jerk backward, trying to step away, but already pressed against the shelves. Matthew doesn’t seem as put off as you, smiling as if nothing happened. You relinquish your hold on his face, dropping your hands to your sides. His hands had wandered as you kissed, one on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. He squeezes once at the base of your skull, dipping in to give you one last quick kiss.

After frantically grabbing random snacks, you return to the den. You can feel how hot your face is, and you can only hope that it’s not too obvious how flustered you are. You and Matthew deposit the snacks on the coffee table, everyone immediately selecting one. You curl back up in your chair, legs pulled up to your chest as you lay sideways, head on the armrest.

Every time your eyes drift to Matthew for the rest of the evening, he’s looking back.

January, 2021

Just as the day the boys come home is the best day of the year, the day they leave for the season is the worst. Sometimes you wish you were Emma, that you could follow them back and forth and never be without them. But St. Louis is your home, is where you have a job and friends and more recently, family.

You’d helped both boys pack for the past few days, but you won’t be able to go along to drop them off at the airport. When Matthew had left for the playoffs, Emma had offered you her spot in the car. You’d told her that she didn’t have to, but she’d assured you she wanted it that way. She has to go along this time, so the car is already overpacked. Besides, you have to work that morning anyway.

You still show up at the Tkachuks’ beforehand, so early that the sun hasn’t made an appearance yet. Matthew had forgotten to pack his favorite sweater, of course. You fish it out from where it had fallen under his bed, straightening up to hold it out to him. He thanks you, deciding to wear it for the flight instead of shoving it into one of his bags. It looks good on him. Cozy.

Brady and Emma are double checking their room as well, one door down from you. Keith, Chantal, and Taryn are down in the living room, waiting as patiently as they’re capable of, which isn’t very much.

Being alone with Matthew used to be exciting, used to make your heart change its rhythm, used to start up a buzz under your skin. Now, it’s just… comfortable. Safe. Right.

When Matthew approaches you, crowding up into your space, you know exactly what he wants. The first time you’d kissed should have been the last. You’re too drawn to him, feel too much toward him, more than you should. More than he will ever return. The two of you haven’t discussed exactly what you’re doing here, but it’s clearly meant to be casual. Matthew isn’t typically the kind to shy away from voicing what he wants, and he hasn’t spoken up to define anything.

Is that what you want? You’re not sure. Making out like teenagers for months has been nice, has satisfied a part of you. But only a part.

You’re avoiding thinking about what you want, too afraid of what you’ll find. Some part of you, buried deep inside, hidden behind a recently built wall, already knows. If you allow yourself to acknowledge it, this will end badly. If you allow yourself to want, you’ll destroy yourself in the process.

The kisses he lays on your lips stay sweet, gentle presses, just a tease of tongue here and there. His arms are wrapped around you, resting on your shoulders, while your hands rest on his hips. You haven’t progressed past kissing, and you’re not sure if he wants anything beyond this. You’ll take what you can get.

Keith calls up the stairs for you to hurry up, lest the boys miss their flights. Matthew leaves one last peck on your lips, just as he always does before you part. You glance around his room a final time, making sure everything is packed. You help him bring his bags downstairs, help him and Emma get their things outside and into the car. You’ll have to go home as soon as they depart, and you’re actually a little grateful that you have work to distract you from the first hours of missing them.

As per usual, Emma is the first to hug you. You squeeze tight so that you can lift her off of her feet for a second, just to make her laugh. Brady grabs you next, as if both of them know that Matthew wants to be last. Brady wiggles you side to side, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You headbutt his shoulder, then kiss the same spot you’d hit. He says how much he’ll miss you, something he always reiterates for a few days before he leaves. You return the sentiment honestly, earnestly. When he pulls back, you punch his chest lightly, and he returns the gesture.

Matthew steps up and opens his arms, and you step into them easily. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, just holds you close, hand cupping the back of your neck, calming your anxiety and dulling the sharp edge of your pain.

“Gonna miss you so much, sweet girl,” he whispers into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. You try to swallow the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat.

“Miss you already,” you reply, a little uneven, a little raw, “Can’t wait to see you again.” He places a kiss on your head as Brady had, but his lips linger, hesitant to let go. But he does let go.

They all wave as they drive off, Brady, Emma, Matthew, and Taryn all crammed into the back seat. You wave back, watching the car go, staring down the street even after the car turns and disappears.

Time to work, you suppose.

July, 2023

Art has never frustrated you so much in your life.

When you were young, the struggle and annoyance came from trying to get things just right, though they were above your skill level. As a teenager, it was due to the struggle of developing your own unique style. In college, it was not having the energy to paint most days, falling asleep at the easel others.

For the past month, the art has been flowing. You’ve been painting most every day, the ideas coming easily, creating almost a compulsion that you can’t resist. It’s only satisfied when the painting is complete. There are a couple dozen or so canvases scattered around your apartment to dry, the most you’ve ever produced in a single month. But the frustration– the frustration comes from the fact that all of your ideas are about him. All of your paintings are moments with him, things he’d said, how you’d felt, how you’d hoped he felt.

There’s a feeling inside of you, as if you’re right on the edge of catharsis, as if you paint just one more thing, you’ll be able to let it all go. That’s your motivation for everything you’ve been making, just desperately searching for the release that will save you from the pain. At this point, you’re not sure it will ever come.

You’re working on a bigger canvas, the biggest you’ve used in years. You’re glad your current job allowed you to move into a bigger apartment, because you surely wouldn’t have been able to fit something like this in your old shoebox, packed so full of your things that you’d barely had space for an 11x14. You have to stand to reach the upper portion, swiping a brighter red over the dark red base. You don’t want it to be about him. It is anyway.

The show at the gallery is rapidly approaching, only a month away. You’ve been working with the curator to decide which pieces to use, filing through years of work. So far, everything that she’s found compelling has been about him. Things you’ve made recently, things you made years ago when things were still good. One day, you’ll get over this. But not today. Today still just hurts.

June, 2021

With neither of the boys making the playoffs, they’d come home earlier than usual this year. Sadly, Brady is pretty used to it by now, usually coming home around this time anyway. You’re used to getting a few weeks with Brady and Emma before Matthew comes home, but you don’t have that this year.

While Brady sulks for about two days when he gets home, Matthew is far more upset. The Flames had made the playoffs for the last couple years, and he was getting used to being a contender. So not even getting a chance at it this year clearly stung. He moped around for a week or two, face tight and arms crossed over his chest most of the time. The only time he let his arms down, let his guard down, is when the two of you were alone.

You’d comforted him through the couple weeks of upset, even staying the night a few times. It wasn’t intentional, you’d just stayed so late that you fell asleep, and Matthew didn’t have the heart to wake you. You have to get up early to get home for work, so you’d snuck your way out of the house before anyone else had woken. You’re not sure how Keith and Chantal would have felt about you staying the night in Matthew’s bed, but you know what they would have thought was going on, and you didn’t want to put yourself or Matthew in that position.

Once he’d relaxed, taken a deep breath and accepted defeat, he went back to being his regular happy, seemingly aloof self. You’re grateful for it, not a fan of seeing him upset and always wanting to help him through and cheer him up.

June had come kindly, bringing along more sun and nicer weather. You and Matthew had resumed your walks in the park, and the whole group of you spend about as much time outside as you do in the den. Things with Matthew had picked up where they left off in January, him pulling you into a secluded area any time he could get you alone, kissing you senseless. You’d missed the feeling of his lips, of his body pressed to yours.

Tonight is one of the more rare nights where Matthew comes to your apartment, instead of you going to his parents’ house. You’ve offered to make dinner and follow it up with movies. You’re already on the couch, your dirty dishes abandoned on the coffee table. You’re laying on your side, Matthew spooned up against your back, your knees hanging off of the couch with the way they’re bent to accommodate Matthew’s too-long legs. You’re warm and comfortable, enjoying the feeling of safety that he brings, something you’ve very rarely felt in your life before.

The movie is good, but you’ve found that being in Matthew’s arms makes you sleepy, so you’re having a hard time focusing. You manage to mostly follow it, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn when the credits start to roll.

You feel Matthew place a kiss on the back of your neck without comment. Then he’s moving you, rearranging your bodies carefully until you’re on your back, Matthew staring down at you from his position straddling your thigh. The way he’s looking at you is intense, somehow simultaneously fond and hungry. It wakes you up almost instantly, and you reach out to rest your hands on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, reverently. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it feels different now. Maybe it’s the position you’re in, maybe the way he’s looking down at you as if he wants you, as if he–

He takes your hands in his own, bending down as he brings them up to cradle his cheeks. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, tilt his head up a little by the jaw as his eyes slide shut. You press your fingers into the soft spot behind his jaw, under his ears, pull him down, down, down.

Kissing him feels as easy as breathing. Guiding his head this way and that to get a better angle, pressing your lips together over and over, longer each time, deeper. Matthew has one hand on the arm of the couch to hold himself up, the other wrapped loosely around your wrist. He’s not trying to move you or take control, just holding on as if he needs something to ground him. You press your thumbs into the hollows of his cheeks, feeling the solid wall of his teeth under the skin. His mouth drops open and he lets out a soft sound. You press your thumbs in harder, between the new gap between his upper and lower teeth, testing how far you can push from the outside.

He squeezes your wrist once and you release the pressure. His mouth stays open, lips wet and shining. He opens his eyes halfway, as if his eyelids are too heavy to get all the way up, eyes hazy and unfocused.

Again, he squeezes your wrist. He’s suddenly standing, using his grip to guide you up as well. He immediately crowds up against you, as if being more than an inch away will kill him. His eyes have managed to refocus, but there’s still a dreamy look in them.

He takes a step backward, using the hand that had instinctively gone to the back of your neck to bring you with him. He kisses you, lingering. He takes another step back, gives you another kiss. He rounds the end of the couch and you realize where he’s leading you, kind of impressed that he can find his way to the bedroom without even looking.

Of course, your heart is a frantic mouse scurrying around your chest, thumping hard like you’re a prey animal facing down a predator. But as much as it freaks out in the cage of your chest, there’s no panic in your head. Being with Matthew calms your mind, keeps your hands from trembling, feels so right that you can’t find a reason for the anxiety that used to plague you around him.

He stops you halfway between the door and the bed, pulling back a couple inches to stare down at you. You’re hesitant to put a name to the look on his face, not sure if reverent is being dramatic.

You flatten your palms against the front of his shoulders, shoving him gently, bullying him toward the bed. He allows it for a moment, but stops after a few steps. He takes your hands in his own, brings them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. You try to swallow down the desire that grows inside of you, threatening to spill out. He holds your hands close to his face, enough that you can feel his lips move when he speaks.

“You don’t have to be in control, sweet girl,” he says, lays another kiss on the bump of your right middle finger, looks deep into your eyes with such adoration you feel ready to split at the seams.

“Let me take care of you,” he says. The part of you that’s spent your entire life with a fist clenched desperately around any sense of control that it could find, for the first time, relinquishes its hold. And Matthew does, indeed, take care of you.

February, 2022

It’s your first time in Vegas, and the atmosphere is electric. There are hockey fans everywhere, plenty of people wearing jerseys as they explore the strip. Everything is so big, so bright, so fancy. As exciting as it is to be here, it makes you feel a little off, a little like you don’t belong. It reminds you of the first time you’d been to the Tkachuks’ house, amazed at how different everything is from the way you grew up.

Each player was supposed to be allotted two tickets, but they had allowed Brady to take additional tickets for his family, considering Matthew is his brother, in addition to how well-known and beloved Keith is. He’d managed to get Emma included as well, luckily.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but Brady had gotten another player to give one of his tickets so that you could come. Apparently the guy’s family couldn’t make the trip, and he only had one friend that he really wanted to bring. He won’t tell you who it was, but the way that Timo Meier winks at you as he passes the stands gives you an idea. You weren’t aware that the two talked, but there’s always the possibility that he had just gone around and asked everyone. The idea makes something bloom in your chest, as if you could love Brady more than you already do. You’ll have to find a way to thank Timo some time.

The skills competitions are fun, though Brady doesn’t win anything. It’s nice to see the players relaxing and having fun, a well-deserved break from the stress of the season.

You all go out to an early meal before the games the next day. You don’t realize until you arrive that Jack Hughes and his family were joining you, and you trip over your own feet when you see them waiting for you. You’re a huge fan of Jack’s, but more than that, Ellen Weinberg-Hughes is an icon. You stumble with your words when you greet her, shaking her hand and screaming silently in your head. With how the boys are looking at you as you do so, they obviously anticipated your reaction and are incredibly satisfied with themselves.

For the meal, you’re sat between Matthew and Jack. You’re grateful that Matthew is next to you, needing his calming presence as you meet some of your favorite players. The families are friendly with each other, the parents catching up on the news of each others’ lives, the children doing the same in separate conversations.

You spend most of the dinner talking to Jack, Quinn, and Matthew. They tell you all sorts of things, including embarrassing stories about Matthew that you weren’t privy to. You grin at Matthew every time they share one, absolutely intending to tease him about it later. This seems to be what the Hughes boys want, eager to give you more ammunition. Matthew buries his face in his hands at one particularly humiliating story, even as he shakes gently with quiet laughter. When he emerges and sits back up, you take a chance, placing your hand on his thigh. You squeeze once, trying to reassure him. He does his best to not react, but he also rests his hand on top of yours under the table.

“So you’re a painter, right?” Quinn asks at one point, curiosity evident in his perpetually sleepy eyes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, asking “How did you know?” You’d told them about your official job, but you hadn’t mentioned being a traditional artist in addition to a graphic designer. Jack turns a smug smile on you.

“Matthew talks about you a lot,” he says, pleased with himself. You look to Matthew just in time to see his face flush.

“Shut up,” he says to Jack, which only makes him smile wider. Jack’s attitude rubs off on you a little, and you give Matthew a delighted smile.

“How much is a lot?” you ask Jack, feeling Matthew dig his fingertips into your knuckles.

“Like, a lot,” Jack replies, Quinn nodding from his other side. You look back to Matthew, who looks like he wants to crawl under the table and hide.

“I talk about him a lot, too,” you say. That makes Matthew look at you again, bright eyes nearly sparkling in the restaurant’s dim lighting. His expression shifts, a small, grateful smile scrunching his eyes up the slightest bit.

After dinner, you all make your way to the arena. Brady and Jack left a while before the rest of you, needing to arrive in time to get dressed and likely do some more media. Before he’d left, Jack had requested your phone, creating a contact for himself and inputting his number. As he dud, you turned your face away, toward Matthew, opening your mouth wide as if you’re screaming. He looked amused at it, but there’s a sharp edge there. Quinn took the phone next, doing the same thing. You squeezed Matthew’s thigh again, and his expression softened. You’ve been following the Hughes brothers since they were in Juniors, and having them like you enough to want to keep in touch– you can only describe the feeling as elation.

The lines are out the door at the arena, and a few people catch the boys to request photos before you can get to the special entrance for players’ guests. They’re all very kind and courteous about it, taking a few pictures with people, finding a way to move through the crowd even as they do so. You probably should have come a different way, or maybe gotten there earlier, but as long as the boys don’t mind, you don’t either.

The seats are good, the second row of the first balcony. It seems to be the section that they put all of the family and friends, people milling around and chatting with each other. You spot Johnny’s parents a couple rows away, the only people around that you’ve met before. You wave to them and they return the gesture. They make their way down to your seats, greeting each of you in turn. They start chatting with Keith and Chantal, so you continue talking to Taryn and Emma.

The games are great, surprisingly fast. The Atlantic division plays a great game again Central, despite losing by 3. You still can’t help being proud of Brady. You’ve been next to him since his first season, and you’ve loved getting to watch him grow and improve. As long as he’s in the world, you’re going to be proud of him.

The final is awesome too, and you jump up to cheer when Jack scores in the first. When the Metropolitan wins, you high-five Taryn, glad that Jack could win when Brady couldn’t. Not a bad consolation prize.

The group hangs around for a while after, and you get to meet a bunch of new people. Everyone is so nice, making you feel welcome, feel like you belong. When you finally start up the stairs to leave, Johnny’s mom Jane stops you for a second. She pinches your jersey and gives you a sly smile.

“Just a family friend?” she asks, not a question but a suggestion. A few years back, Matthew had given you one of his jerseys to wear to a game, and you’ve worn it tonight, despite him not playing. You realize now how it could be interpreted, ducking your head for a second to smile at the floor, before looking back up to Jane.

“Just a family friend,” you say, firm and definitive. She holds your gaze for a moment, looks behind her at Matthew, who’s waiting patiently a few steps up. He’s looking at you, that soft look he gives you sometimes. After a second, he smiles brightly at Jane. She waves and turns back to you.

“We’ll see,” she says. She pats your shoulder twice before making her own way up the stairs with Guy. Once you process the statement, you shake your head and make your way up to Matthew.

“What was that?” he asks as you enter the corridor. There’s no way you can tell him the truth, and honestly, you’re not sure what the fuck that was either. You just shrug at him, continuing your way out of the arena.

The comment sticks with you, no matter how you try to brush it off. Johnny is Matthew’s best friend, and you’ve met Jane a few times before. If it had been a stranger, you would’ve dismissed it outright. But to hear it from someone who actually knows the two of you? That’s harder to let go.

July, 2023

Laurel, the curator for the gallery hosting your show, is a lovely woman. She’s also very, very good at her job. You’ve been to countless shows at this gallery, and they’re always perfectly compiled, excellently arranged. You’ve brought her your most recent paintings today, which makes you glad that you have a car, because hauling them through the city would be a nightmare.

The only problem you have with Laurel is that she seems to see straight through you. You’re not used to someone looking past the professional figure you present, let alone someone seeing every part of you that you put into your art.

She’s staring at your offerings, examining every last detail. She’s already chosen about half of the pieces that will be displayed, creating a theme with your relatively impressionist style. She moves one canvas to the side, away from the others. She takes an extra few minutes to consider one of them, the largest one. It just finished drying yesterday. Having to see it every day as you passed it in the living room has been torture.

“Everything except that one,” she says, gesturing to the one she’d set aside. If she wants all of these, that’s likely going to be everything for the show. With everything else she’s chosen, this is all they have the wall space for, considering the way that you’ve seen Laurel arrange the art in previous shows you’d attended.

“That one is the centerpiece,” she adds, hand against her cheek as she continues staring at the large canvas. You swallow hard. Of course. Of course every painting she likes is about him. Of course the centerpiece will be him. No matter what you do, you’ll never escape him.

She asks a bit about your inspiration and motivation for the piece, and you give her vague answers that sound more philosophical than the real thing. The two of you discuss some of the minutiae of the show, trying to get everything finalized ahead of time. There’s less than a month left, and your excitement is starting to pair itself with dread.

When you get home, you go straight to your bedroom and throw yourself face first onto your mattress. You bury your face in a pillow, finally letting out the scream that’s been stuck in your throat since you learned of Tessa’s existence. It helps.

You make and have dinner, barely aware of what you’re eating. At least you can eat without getting nauseous now. You don’t feel like watching TV, probably wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a real show right now. Instead, you sit on your bed, leaning back against the headboard. You scroll social media mindlessly for a while, the ghost of Matthew next to you, his invisible arm pressed against yours.

February, 2022

Despite your better judgment, the first time you and Matthew had slept together wasn’t the last, either. It had continued through last summer, then again when he’d come to play the Blues. Now you’re in Calgary, in Matthew’s apartment for the first time, in his bed again.

A lot of people idolize the first time they sleep with someone, comparing every subsequent time to the first and often coming out disappointed. You had no reason to do so, because the sex only got better over time. As you and Matthew learned each other’s bodies, figured out what got the best reactions, the sex kept improving. Even if you wanted to fall back on your morals and resist him out of respect for Brady, you know you couldn’t stay away for long. It’s irresistible.

And it’s not just the sex. It’s the way he holds you after, lays on his back so that you can rest your head on his chest. It’s the way his breath ruffles your hair as you fall asleep together. It’s the things he says to you.

It’s the nights like this.

You’re in Matthew’s bedroom, the dark dead of night offering only the moon to light the room. Your head is on Matthew’s chest, his arm around you to keep you close, as if you would ever willingly leave. Your breathing had returned to normal a while ago, your body cooling off and beginning to recover from the rush of feeling. Matthew kisses the top of your head every so often, and you return the sentiment by tilting your head to lay kisses against his sternum.

“I wish I could keep you here forever,” he says, so hushed that you almost miss it. He’s always so quiet when he talks like this, as if he’s afraid to say it. He says these kinds of things anyway, but never above a whisper, not willing to share the vulnerability with anyone but you. Again, you press your lips into his skin.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” you reply. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To stay here, with him. No need to be quiet so as not to wake his family, no having to sneak out in the morning, no work to keep you away. Just laying here, together.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says. There’s desire in his voice, of course, but also earnesty, like he really means it. Part of you would like to believe that he does, but another part knows how important it is to not get caught up in the fantasy. It’s easier said than done.

“Not any of the other girls you’ve had?” you ask. You’d meant for it to come out teasing, but your honest curiosity wins out. Then there’s a hand on your chin, fingers gently guiding your head up until you’re looking Matthew in the eye. It’s not exactly comfortable to crane your neck like this, so you prop yourself up on one forearm, resting the other hand where your head had been as you stare down at him.

“Never,” he replies, insistent. He looks so serious, sounds so sincere. You don’t say anything, can’t think of anything. There’s something in the wide roundness of his eyes that speaks to you, pulls you in, encourages you to search deeper. It takes a second to figure out what it is that’s hiding in there, but… it’s fear.

“I never want this with anyone else,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours over his racing heart. There’s a question you want to ask, something you’ve been wanting to ask for a while, but the fear in him has mirrored itself within you. You should just shut up, keep it to yourself. The words come out before you can convince yourself to stay quiet.

“What is this?” you ask. You’re not sure what answer you’re expecting, but you know which one you’re hoping for. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for the first time, you don’t divert your gaze to admire the sheen of them, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says, pauses, presses your entwined hands harder to his chest, “But I never want to give it up.”

May, 2022

Again, Matthew is the second to come home. Brady returned almost a month before in April, the Senators not in the playoffs, as usual. You feel bad sometimes, because Brady is genuinely a great player, but his team has just struggled to gel together. Even through all of their trials, Brady insists on keeping hope. He loves his teammates, and that’s what really matters to him.

Matthew, on the other hand, isn’t so great at dealing with failure. The Flames make it to the second round, which is an achievement all on its own. But after winning Game 1, they’d lost four in a row and been knocked out. It feels to Matthew almost like they got swept, he explains over the phone after the final loss.

When he gets home, he once again spends a week sulking. You mimic what you’d done last year, though staying the night is intentional this time. So long as you sneak out before anyone wakes up, you’ll be fine.

On the eighth day, you tell Matthew for the hundredth time how proud of him you are. He shoots you a bittersweet smile and says that he’s proud of himself too, and you know he’s bouncing back. It doesn’t help that he’s been debating for months whether to re-sign with the Flames, an agonizing choice for him. He loves his boys, but he’s not sure he belongs there anymore. You’ve assured him that you’ll support him no matter what decision he makes. Johnny hits free agency next month, and if he moves, you’re not sure that Matthew will have the motivation to stay.

The next couple of weeks go by the same way that they always do, with you spending as much time with the Tkachuks as possible. At least, you think you’re doing a good job of acting like everything is the same as years past. No one knows about you and Matthew, and it seems like he wants to keep it that way. You like having this little secret life with him, getting to have him all to yourself. You’re okay with the way it is, you convince yourself.

June came quickly, having begun only four days after he’d returned. The weather improves, you and Matthew once again resume your walks in the park. You play yard games and watch trash TV with Brady and Emma. You help Chantal cook dinners, help Keith clean up afterward. Everything is back to the summer standard.

The day had been nice, sunny and warm. The light had turned the leaves of the trees golden during your walk this afternoon. The sun is long gone now. Nighttime has become your favorite part of the day, the only time you get to indulge in whatever it is that you and Matthew have. The only time you get to touch his skin, to hear the low sounds he can’t help but make, to feel his warmth against you, inside you.

It’s been some time since you’d finished, but you can’t quite fall asleep. Matthew is spooned up against your back, face buried in the nape of your neck. You’re not sure if he’s asleep or not, too distracted to bother trying to figure it out. You’ve been thinking about it since your visit to Calgary. Any time Matthew called, or texted, or even crossed your mind, you thought of it. It made your heart leap into your throat, your breath catching as you choked on it.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing together, what you are. He didn’t give the response you’d been hoping for, but he didn’t outright deny it either. Sometimes you think it would have been better if he had, if he’d said that it was just sex. Then you could start working on moving on. You wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his groggy voice making you startle and snapping you out of your head. You take a deep breath, debating yourself for a couple seconds before you decide.

“Nothing,” you reply, patting his forearm where it’s snaked around your waist, “Go back to sleep.” He takes a quick, deep breath, the air rushing out over your skin. You’re helpless to resist when he starts moving you. If you did put up a fight, push back against his hands, you know he would stop. But you’re tired.

“What’s wrong?” he asks again once you’re flipped to face him. He looks tired too, the exhaustion of the season still lingering. The moonlight paints his face in silver. It makes his skin shine, almost glowing in the darkness.

“I’m afraid,” you say. You wish he hadn’t turned you around. It would be easier to speak it into the wall than it is to say to his face. You say it anyway, watching his brow furrow, admiring the way the silver light adds contrast to the wrinkles the expression creates.

“Of what?” he asks. You could make something up. Telling him that you’re afraid of monsters under the bed would be less embarrassing. You’ve never been very good at lying to him.

“The day you move on,” you whisper, invisible pressure on your throat making the words come out tight and unsteady. The surprise on his face surprises you in return. He’d refused to put words or labels to whatever this is, of course you would think that he’s going to leave eventually. You’d have to be an idiot to think that he means it when he says forever.

“I won’t,” he says, resolute. You can only manage a half-smile for him.

“You’re not the first man to say that,” you reply. He reaches up and cradles your cheek in his wide palm, warmth seeping into your skin.

“But I’m the first one to mean it,” he says. You close your eyes. They begin to prickle at the corners, but you refuse to cry about any of this. He’s so adamant, so steadfast in his insistence. You try to remind yourself of what this isn’t, what it will never be, but you’ve never trusted someone the way you trust him, and you can’t help believing him anyway.

August, 2023

You hadn’t anticipated this happening, let alone how hard it would be, but finally, finally it’s a little bit easier.

You’re not over Matthew, not by a long shot. It’s going to take months, years. It may never happen, who knows? As long as you can cope with it, can keep your friends around, that’s all that matters.

The first half of the day was spent with both boys and their girls. You didn’t have to curl up so tightly on your chair, didn’t have to force words out so they didn’t think anything was wrong. Conversation was relatively easy, topics changing and flowing naturally. You’d smiled, laughed, and a couple of times you actually meant it.

Matthew had apparently planned a date for Tessa and himself, so they excuse themselves in the late afternoon. Brady, Emma, and you stick around the den for a bit, continuing to talk. Eventually, Emma stands, stretching dramatically.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggests. You’ve spent too much time lately sitting at an easel or curled up in bed, and a walk sounds like a great idea.

You expect it this time when Brady takes the three of you to the same park. It’s easier when you’re not blindsided by it, and you have the lovely memory of the last time you were here with the two to focus on, instead of Matthew. You walk for a while, music playing softly from Emma’s phone, tucked in her back pocket. Once you’re deep into the wooded area of the park, she stops dead in her tracks. You follow suit, spinning around to shoot her an inquisitive look. She takes the two steps forward to close the space between you two, grabbing you by the shoulders and walking you backward. You stumble, trying to look behind yourself to keep from falling. She pushes until the backs of your knees hit a bench on the side of the pathway and you fall onto it. You gape up at her, befuddled by the behavior and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

“What’s going on,” she demands, not a question. You furrow your brow, at a loss for words. You know what she’s talking about, and you know that she knows that you know. But why would she wait until the day that it starts to fade, the day that you can finally think of something else, to ask you about it?

“C’mon, Y/N,” Brady says, plopping down on the bench next to you, “We know something’s wrong.” You had accepted the possibility of this back in June, but you weren’t expecting it to take almost three months for it to happen.

Your first instinct is that you absolutely can’t tell them. You’ve been keeping this secret for years, and if Matthew has his way, you’ll keep it forever. If Matthew gets his way, you repeat in your head. That’s it, isn’t it? All this time, you’ve been so focused on what Matthew wants that you ignored your own wanting. What do you want?

You want to tell someone, to finally have this horrid pain out in the open instead of keeping it caged up around your heart. You want your best friend and his wife to hug you. You want them to understand.

“Matthew,” the name tumbles out, and you don’t want to stop it. Brady and Emma are still looking at you, waiting for anything you want to tell them. God, Brady is your goddamn best friend and you’d convinced yourself that you couldn’t tell him something? That there was anything on this earth that he would shun you for?

It all comes spilling out in a rush. Everything from the first time you’d met him. Hell, some information that isn’t strictly necessary, but they don’t interrupt you or complain, so you venture on. It takes long enough to recount that Emma sits on the metal armrest of the bench. Brady’s holding one of your hands in his lap, Emma taking the other to do the same.

You’d promised yourself more than once that you wouldn’t cry about this, but you don’t really care enough to stop yourself now. The tears come two-thirds of the way through, falling silently as you recount some of the things Matthew had told you, the things he’d promised you. You’re not outright sobbing, so you manage to power through the rest of the story. Your eyes are squeezed tightly shut by the end, like closing them will block out the memories.

It takes a couple of minutes for the tears to stop. The three of you let the silence hang as you wait for it, nothing but the leaves rustling in the trees, something scurrying in the bushes. When you can safely open your eyes to face the world again, you look over to Brady. He looks devastated.

You watch his evolving emotions morph the expression on his face, from heartbreak to anger and back again. The anger makes your heart skip a beat, suddenly afraid that maybe the whole “I slept with your brother” thing will be a problem after all.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he asks, startling a laugh out of you. You know he’s dead serious, too. Part of you thinks it might be cathartic to see Matthew get beat up by his little brother, but your soft heart doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. After everything he’s done to you, you still don’t want him to have to feel even a fraction of the pain you do.

February, 2023

This year, the boys don’t have to bribe anyone else to get you to the All Star Game. Each of them is allotted two tickets as per usual, but Taryn is too busy with school to come. She’d aimed a satisfied smirk at Matthew through the camera of her phone, saying guess you’ll have to take that one along as her eyes darted slightly to the left, clearly looking at where you were on the screen.

Since your work is remote, you’ve brought along your laptop. You spend the morning of the skills competition working, still averse to using your PTO if it’s not completely necessary. The boys have to do media, so there’s no one around to bother or distract you. You kind of wish there were.

The special skills competitions are as fun this year as they were last. You especially love Sidney Crosby in the dunk tank, seemingly having the time of his life. You may not know him personally, only having met him once in passing, but after everything he’s been through, you think he deserves some carefree fun.

The sun has set by time you emerge from the arena after the regular skills competitions. The days are shorter at this time of year, even in Florida. It is warmer than St. Louis, though, which you’re grateful for.

Jack is in the competition again this year, so you meet up with the Weinberg-Hugheses again that night. You’ve gotten much closer with Jack and Quinn over the past year, building relationships on texts and calls and dinners when they play the Blues. Luke has tagged along this time, and you get on with him just as well as his brothers.

Matthew shoots Jack a look when he slings an arm around you on the way back to your hotels after dinner, but Jack just grins at him. You’re still not sure what that’s all about, but you’re just going to stay out of it.

The games the next day are fantastic. You’ve never gotten to watch both of your boys win at once, and you love it. When the Atlantic wins the whole thing, you cheer so loudly your voice cracks. Emma laughs at you, but you just laugh along with her.

You stick around for a bit after the game again, Keith and Chantal mingling while Emma shows you the decorations she’s planning for the wedding on her phone. After a while, someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn your head, immediately recognizing Jane. Johnny had made it again this year with his new team, so it would make sense that she’s here too. You stand, reaching up to hug her in her elevated position.

“Matthew got you a new jersey?” she asks, referencing the All-Star jersey you’ve got on. You wish you could say that you bought it for yourself, but it had indeed been a gift from Matthew. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, so you act like it’s not, even though it is.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend,” you reply, shrugging, “He likes to take care of me.” The thing about Jane is that she’s not really a jerk. Sometimes the you-and-Matthew comments bother you, but she’s generally a very sweet woman.

“It’s good to have someone like that,” she says, smiling gently at you, “Matthew is a good boy.” Jane had been at enough Flames games for you to know her, and definitely enough for Matthew to become a pseudo-son to her. They don’t interact much anymore, save for when she pops up in the back of Johnny’s facetimes, but you know she still has a soft spot for him. You don’t blame her.

“He really is,” you agree, nodding. The two of you make some small talk, and you get some updates on Johnny’s new life on the Blue Jackets. You give her some updates on Matthew in return. After a bit, Guy shuffles up next to Jane, telling her that it’s time to go. She acknowledges him quickly, turning back to take one of your hands in her own.

“I know he takes care of you,” she says, patting the back of your hand with her second, “But you take care of that boy, too. Okay?” You just nod, smiling and bidding her goodbye. Her and Guy retreat up the steps and out of view. You’re not sure why she feels the need to say these things to you, and you’re not sure why you take them to heart.

You meet Matthew and Brady outside the player entrance, the boys immediately scooping up you and Emma, respectively. Matthew sweeps you off of your feet for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Once you’re free, you start to dip forward, realizing what you’re doing at the last second and changing track to make sure the kiss lands on his cheek.

He beams at you, and you’re absolutely certain that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to make him smile.

April, 2023

The day Brady comes home is the best day of the year, you remind yourself for the thousandth time. You’re excited to see him, you are. The way your chest has felt rent open for days isn’t his fault in any way. You’re not going to make him pay for being the messenger.

Once you all get the couple home, you go upstairs with Brady and Emma to help them unpack. They don’t really need help, obviously, but it’s an excuse to spend time together. Brady talks a little about the season, but mostly focuses on his plans for the summer. He talks about wanting to go see G, maybe even take a trip out to visit Tim.

For the most part, you just fold clothes and listen. Eventually, they switch to the topic of the wedding, Emma showing you even more pictures. She’d asked you to be a bridesmaid forever ago, so you’ve already seen most of it, had even helped her pick half of it out, but you’re never going to squash her excitement.

Exhausted from their travel, the two make their way down to the den after everything is put away, collapsing onto the couch. You curl up in your chair, allowing the couple to choose what you watch. They pick something or another, nothing that you can pay attention to right now. Instead, you find yourself examining Brady, picking apart his features, finding all the things he shares with Matthew.

It’s the best day of the year, you remind yourself again. The light of the TV highlights Brady’s jawbone and your skin crawls.

August, 2023

The show is going exceptionally well, exceeding your expectations. The space is filled with strangers, friends, and even your brother and his family. There are critics and collectors, some that you’ve seen at other people’s shows, some that you don’t recognize. Everyone wants to talk to you, and you don’t get a spare moment to breathe for the first few hours.

When you do get a chance to exhale, the rich couple that had been occupying you finally walking away, you catch the color out of the corner of your eye. You’ve been all around the building all night, mingling and networking in equal measure. You hadn’t realized where you ended up until right this second. You turn to the piece, staring as if you’d never seen it before.

You don’t need to look over to see who steps up next to you a minute later.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Matthew says. It doesn’t feel like an accusation, though it is one. All you can do is sigh.

“What did you expect me to do?” you ask, not expecting an answer. You glance at his hands out of the corner of your eye, noticing the wine glass in one hand, water glass in the other. Without a word, Matthew holds the water out in your direction, still fixated on the painting. You take it, feeling odd that not only does Matthew know that you forget to drink enough water, but also that he’s still trying to take care of you.

“It’s me,” he says after a pause. You’re both facing the largest canvas, the centerpiece. Swirls of bright red spread across a crimson background, highlighted with orange, accented with a royal purple. There, in the center, are two comparatively small, even circles of icy blue.

“They’re all you. Or about you, at least,” you say, seeing no need to deny it any longer, “About us.” It’s obvious that Matthew hadn’t expected you to admit it outright, thrown off for a minute by the admission.

“Can we talk?” he asks as you take a sip of water.

“We’re talking right now,” you reply, feeling petty. It’s his turn to sigh. He sets his wine glass down on the nearest horizontal surface before returning to your side, facing you this time.

“Somewhere private,” he clarifies, pauses, “Please.” You may be mad at him, enraged, incensed, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything, and you still can’t, even now.

You shut the storage room door behind you, flicking on the light to chase away the darkness. Matthew has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around as if there’s anything interesting in here. You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to nut up and look you in the face.

“Listen,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck but still not looking at you, “I know I should have gone about this better.” You snort. No shit. The sound finally brings Matthew’s gaze to meet your own.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Matthew says, motioning with his raised hand, “I didn’t think you’d care that much.” You can feel how incredulous your expression is, and you don’t even try to hide it.

“In what world would I not be upset?” you respond, “After everything?” You can hear yourself, know you sound like a bitter, jealous old ex, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and looks away again. When he looks back, there’s an almost pleading look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, more sincerely than the first time, “You shouldn’t have had to find out from Brady.” You avert your gaze, working your jaw for a second before you raise your chin and square your shoulders.

“No,” you agree, “I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you,” he says, motioning helplessly with his hands, “You have to know how hard that was.” You shake your head, almost disgusted.

“Imagine how hard it was for me,” you reply. Your fingertips are digging into your own arm, fingernails biting into the skin. The fact that he would stand here and imply that this was a struggle for him– as if he expects you to offer sympathy– makes your stomach churn. The guilt in his expression makes you sickly satisfied.

“Listen,” he leads with that word again, as if he has any right to ask it of you, “I didn’t want to upset her. You know how some girls are.” You do know. And it’s still not an excuse.

“You didn’t tell her about me,” you say, anger and hurt straining your voice, “You said that I was just Brady’s best friend. You didn’t even tell her what we had.” You want to scream it at him, just want to scream in general. Maybe if you did, if you released your tight grip on control in a different way than you had with him, maybe it would make him understand.

“What did we have?” he asks. His voice is quiet, just as yours had been when you’d brought up the topic all those months ago.

“I don’t know,” you say, turning his own words back on him. It’s true, anyway. You’ve never known what any of this was. You’d only known what you wanted it to be, what you stupidly, fruitlessly hoped for.

“We never dated,” he replies, voice still low but seemingly not bothered by the uncertainty, “We never called it a relationship. You were never my girlfriend.” It’s a simple fact. It tears your heart out of your chest.

“Just because we didn’t name it doesn’t mean it was nothing,” you insist, squeezing your eyes shut for a second to push down the urge to cry before admitting, “I stopped dating.” He looks even guiltier at that, but it doesn’t soothe anything in you.

“I didn’t look at another man,” you continue, embarrassed and ashamed but unable to let him continue through life without knowing, “I didn’t even want to look at anyone else.” The shame makes the fiery anger burn brighter.

“I gave you three years of my fucking life,” you say, voice raising just enough to make Matthew flinch. You keep it reigned in enough that no one outside will hear, not interested in sharing this conversation with anyone else, especially not potential business contacts. The flames engulf your chest, lick up at your throat, threaten to consume you.

“I never asked you to do that,” Matthew replies, solemn. Your jaw drops, just half an inch, enough to part your lips as your breath hitches. He never asked. He never fucking–

“You–” you begin, breath catching in your throat as your eyes burn with tears you refuse to let escape, “Everything you said, everything you did, and you expected what? For me to just move on?” Your nails are digging so deeply into your biceps that you’re surprised they haven’t drawn blood. Matthew doesn’t respond right away, and you can’t tamp down the impulse to be petty.

“But I guess that’s what you did, huh?” you jab. Matthew shuts his eyes tightly, fists clenching like he wants to fight. It should be threatening, but you’ve always known that he would never dream of laying a finger on you in violence. But then again, you’d thought you knew a lot of things about him.

“Why do you care?” he asks, shoulders tense as he opens his eyes to stare you down, “You don’t even want me.” That shocks a laugh out of you, so completely ridiculous that you can’t help it.

“That’s the most fucked up part– I do want you,” you respond, simultaneously an answer and an admission. His brow furrows as he continues looking at you, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Did you seriously think I didn’t?” you ask, more of a demand, slightly offended because, “Do you think I said all those things for fun? For shits and giggles?” You can’t read his expression, don’t even bother trying. He can feel whatever he wants. That’s not your concern anymore. All you care about is the cold spreading through you, crawling up from the tips of your fingers, freezing your arms, creeping into your chest and beginning to extinguish your rage.

“I loved you, dickhead,” you continue, the words spilling out of you starting to sound pathetic, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold on to the anger, putting the last grasp of it into the words, “Stupid fucking idiot asshole, I loved you.” Matthew gapes at you, hands going lax at his sides. His jaw moves as if to say something, but nothing comes out.

“I loved you and you threw me away like garbage, and didn’t even have the balls to tell me yourself,” you force the sentence out, feeling like you’re choking on every syllable. Matthew’s breathing stutters. You’re expecting annoyance, irritation, maybe even shame or guilt. You’re not expecting his wide eyes, his eyebrows turned up in the middle, his slack jaw.

“You loved me?” he finally asks after a few agonizingly long seconds of silence. There’s something in his voice that you tell yourself you don’t care to analyze.

“Of course I did. How could I not?” you say, huffing as you look upwards, needing a momentary break from this staring contest, “The pathetic part, the part that makes me hate myself, is that I still do.” It’s physically painful to say, no matter that the hurt is psychosomatic. You’ve spent the last few minutes breaking open your ribcage, one bone at a time, revealing to him the space you’d made for him inside of yourself.

“You love me?” he asks, so dumbfounded that he’s repeating himself.

“Yes, Matthew,” you say, facing up to the dread inside of you, the one fact you’ve been struggling with the most since you’d found out the news.

“And I’m terrified. Because I’ve always loved you,” you pour out, barely able to hold yourself together as you meet his eyes, “And I’m afraid that I always will.” There’s not even space for half of a breath before Matthew speaks.

“Please do,” he says. His hands are open, palms facing your direction, as if pleading.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t know,” he says, and apparently he’s decided it’s his turn to reveal himself, “I was surprised that you wanted anything to do with me at all. But then you kissed me, and I spent the next three years waiting for you to leave.” The confusion comes over you so quickly that it almost masks the hurt.

“Why would I leave?” you ask. There’s been nothing subtle about your feelings. You’ve told him that he’s the only one you want, that you want to spend the rest of your life by his side, that he’ll always be the only one. How could he hear all of that and think that you would ever leave?

“Because you’re smart and kind and funny and hardworking–” he starts listing off.

“Tessa is all of those things too,” you cut him off. It doesn’t come out as resentful as you would’ve expected a sentence like that to. As you’ve told Terri, you really have nothing against Tessa. Besides, she really is everything he’s saying.

“But she’s not you,” his response comes immediately, emphatically, “I don’t want just anyone like that; I want you, and you happen to be that way.” You’re stunned into silence.

“It’s not the traits, it’s you,” he says, insistent, like he’s trying to convince you of your own worth, “And I kept waiting for you to find someone else, someone who wasn’t hotheaded and self-centered and–” He stops himself, swallowing so hard you can see his throat stutter under the thin skin of his neck.

“Someone better,” he finishes. The thing is that Matthew doesn’t have low self-esteem. He knows he’s a catch, and yet… And yet, he’s standing here, admitting that he’d still thought of you as being so far above him that you could never want him. And it’s not that there isn’t probably someone out there better than him–

“I never wanted someone better,” you tell him, voice almost a whisper. Growing up, you’d created this picture of the perfect man, told yourself that you’d find him one day, would never settle for less. Then you’d met Matthew, and he was nothing like that imaginary ideal. He was flawed; he was real. And you couldn’t help but love him for it.

“And I never wanted anyone else,” he replies, his own voice hushed to match yours, but no less certain, “I still don’t.” Three months ago, you would’ve given anything to hear that. But things are different now.

“I thought that if I went and found someone like you, someone close enough, that I could fall for them too,” he confesses, shame making his face tense, “I thought that if I stopped talking to you, if I kept my distance, that I could get over you.” A fraction of the anger buds in your chest at the idea.

“So you’re using Tessa,” you accuse, instantly offended on her behalf.

“No!” Matthew denies emphatically, pauses, shakes his head, “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” If he is using her, at least he seems ashamed about it. Something in his posture makes you think he isn’t, that he really thought he could love her.

“Look, she’s great. She’s amazing. She’s too good for me, too,” his shoulders have been hunched up to his ears, but they fall now, defeated, “She talks about that spark she felt when we met, the way she feels about me now, and I want, I really want to feel that way too. It would be easier if I could.” Believing this entire time that he truly loves her has been hell for you, but it’s still somehow worse to know that he doesn’t. That he did all of this, hurt you so deeply, for someone he doesn’t even love.

“As much as I’ve tried, I don’t. And I can’t,” he says, turning his gaze to the floor, “And if I’d ever thought that I had the slightest chance with you, I never would have dated her to begin with.” All these years, all those words, all the touches you’ve shared, and he’d still never taken you seriously. It’s not your fault, you know. But you realize now that for every time you’d indirectly confessed your feelings to him, he’d said the same things back. He’d returned every sentiment readily, easily. And as much as he’d apparently had the same idea as you, that the other could never love you back, you hadn’t seen it either. You’ve been just as ignorant of his feelings as he was of yours, just as deep in denial. And now there’s this rift between you, a deep chasm that keeps you apart, all for no reason.

“So, what now?” you ask. There’s nothing else to ask.

“What?” he seems genuinely confused.

“What now?” you repeat, too tired to be upset anymore, “You break her heart? Or do you keep pretending? Fake your way into a wife and kids and a house in the suburbs?” His confusion persists, tongue darting out to wet his lip the way it always does when he’s anxious.

“I thought–” he shakes his head the tiniest bit, as if he can’t believe what’s happening, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you.” There’s a sadness sitting heavy in your chest, only getting deeper at his words.

“I love you too,” you say, tipping your head an inch to the right, perfectly aware of how melancholy your smile must be, “But you hurt me, and now you have to hurt her too. I thought you were better than this.” You’d thought the world of him. You don’t hate him now, could never force yourself to. But you are disappointed in how everything has played out.

“I thought you didn’t want better?” he says, not really a question. Your lips turn up another centimeter at that.

“Listen,” you say, turning the word back on him. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly. He stays quiet.

“The opportunity of a lifetime is on the other side of that door,” you gesture vaguely over your shoulder, then let your arms relax, your hands fall to your sides, “I don’t know what to do with any of–” you give another vague gesture, “--This.” The devastation is writ clear on his face, telegraphed by his posture, bared in the forefront of his miserably beautiful eyes.

“Out there?” you say, smile still in place, “I know exactly what I want. So I’m going to go get it.” you pause, take another deep breath, “And maybe you’ll be there tomorrow, and maybe you won’t.”

“I will,” he jumps in. You huff an almost-laugh.

“We can figure this all out later,” you say, sure a definite, “For now, I have to focus on the things that I’m sure of.” He nods, looks at the floor, raises his head and looks back at you.

“Did you used to be sure of me?” he asks, an uneven, shaky whisper.

“Yeah,” you say, your entire being feeling so heavy that you can barely hold yourself upright, “I used to be.”

September, 2023

While Brady had departed yesterday, Matthew doesn’t leave until tomorrow. It took some internal debate, but you’ve decided not to go along to drop him off at the airport. His family will think it’s weird if he doesn’t hug you, and you’re not sure if you can handle him touching you yet.

You’re curled up on the couch with a book, letting yourself get lost in the story. A knock comes on the door and you startle. You mark your page and stand, rounding the couch to open the door. When you do, Matthew is standing there.

“Hey,” he greets, giving you the same bittersweet smile you’ve become accustomed to over the past few weeks. You’d given him a key to your apartment right after you’d moved, but you appreciate him not using it right now. You welcome him in with a gesture of your hand, turning to lead the way. You get four steps away before he speaks.

“I broke up with Tessa,” he blurts out. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he doesn’t seem particularly sad either.

“Why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’re that sure that I’ll take you back?” The anger comes and goes as it pleases, and it’s starting to sneak through the space between your ribs.

“No,” Matthew says, looking so unbearably fond of you, “I think you’ll tell me to get fucked.” Some days you want to.

“Then why did you break up with her?” you ask. Part of you has been wondering if, despite everything he’d said, he would stay with her. You’re not sure you would have been able to keep the conversation to yourself if he had, but you would have at least tried.

“Because none of this is fair to her,” he answers, shrugging, “She deserves someone who feels the same way about her that she does them. Someone who’s obsessed with her. She doesn’t deserve to be settled for.” You examine his expression, his stance, and realize that he’s truly being honest. He genuinely wants the best for her.

“How’d she take it?” you can’t help but ask. It makes him grin down at the floor for a moment.

“Honestly?” he asks when he raises his head, “Not great. Could have been worse, though.” As much as you love Matthew, you would have been proud of Tessa if she had slapped him.

“Probably should’ve been worse,” you reply. He grins again, tilting his head as he admires your face.

“Probably,” he agrees. For long moments, you both stand still, eyes locked.

“What now?” you ask, the same question as a couple weeks ago. He shrugs again, but he doesn’t seem as miserable or desperate as he had at the gallery.

“I don’t know,” he replies, that same phrase that you’re still trying to make peace with, “I know what I want. Same thing I’ve wanted this entire time. So I guess it’s up to you.” After three years of him encouraging you to give up control, to let go and follow his lead, he’s handing you the reigns now. However this ends or continues is completely your decision.

“You leave tomorrow,” you say, though you’re both viscerally aware of the fact.

“Yeah,” he gives you the crooked smile that had captured you the first time you’d met, “Don’t suppose you want to come with me? The winter weather’s nicer in Florida.” You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“If you’d asked me that last summer, I probably would’ve said yes,” you admit. You kind of expect him to react with sadness, but you prefer the hope that blooms on his face.

“Maybe I’ll ask you again next summer?” he suggests, offering you the option. At this point, you have no idea where your relationship will be at this time next year. You don’t know if you’ll even have a relationship, of any kind. But if he’s willing to try, so are you.

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling wider than you have in a long while, “Next summer.”

June, 2024

The Hughes brothers are a funny trio. Seeing Jack’s upbeat, outgoing energy bookended on each side by two reserved, perpetually exhausted brothers is always kind of funny. You’d run down the pavement from the Tkachuk’s door to the driveway when you’d seen Quinn climb out of the car’s driver seat, immediately sweeping him up in a hug. The boys had decided to road trip around this summer, so of course you’d strongly suggested that they visit you.

You help them haul their bags out of the trunk, taking Luke’s backpack in hand and insisting on carrying it in for him. The three of them had started teasing you the instant they saw that Matthew hadn’t come out with you.

“Come on, I heard him at the All Star game,” Jack pesters, voice taking a mocking edge as he croons, “Sweet girl.” You laugh brightly, stopping the careful steps you’re taking backwards up the pathway to the house.

“We weren’t dating, I swear,” you insist. Plenty of people over the years have accused you of dating Matthew, but at least he’s funny about it. He stops in front of you, lifting his chin and giving a shit-eating smile.

“Wait, weren’t?” he asks, “As in, past tense?” You feel heat begin to crawl up your face. You’d intended to tell them, of course, but not the second they got here.

“Yeah,” Matthew calls from behind you, and you twist around to watch him close the space between you, “Past tense.” Jack’s glee is overt, but you can see the little signs of happiness on the other two boys’ faces too. Matthew lines himself up against your back, wrapping his arms around you, the gaudy Cup ring on his finger glinting in the light.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can’t see him, but Jack’s smug face makes you sure that Matthew is staring straight at him. “My sweet girl,” Matthew says. It might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.

[writingmeraki]

you're no good for me.

a min ho oneshot !

summary : five times you thought he didn't care and the one time he showed you he did.

( or five times you were oblivious to how much he truly cared and the one time he made it obvious. )

genre : angst ( a bit? ) fluff, comedy ( attempts )

pairing : minho x gn!reader, e2l, frenemies to lovers! idiots to lovers!

warnings : cussing, descriptions of blood,injuries and bruises, reader is pretty oblivious, mentions of underage drinking, kissing, kinda messy :/

author's note : i don't even know what to say tbh ? this is so much longer than I thought to the point where I think I may have rushed the ending lmfaoooooooo welp I hope u enjoy this still haha <3 sorry for the wait 🤕🤕🤕 ( my own lovers to enemies arc with this fic bcoz I overthought as usual ) let me know what you think !!! also anon pls the angst was less but like it was a v lighthearted fic from the beginning asdfgh- i still hope u like it 😔<3 also also i kinda have a little drabble as a continuation for this but I'll see if i wanna post it based on your feedback hehe so let me know! ( barely proofread <3 )

word count : 11.6K ( longest oneshot i've ever written omll )

based on this request !

THE FIRST TIME.

"Fuck why do I feel like someone just pounded my head with a hammer?!"

You groaned as you woke up from your sleep or rather lack of sleep. You'd only been able to get barely 2 hours of sleep when you'd gotten back from the party last night

A party that you didn't even want to go to but were emotionally blackmailed to and even worse it was fucking Minho's party.

Technically, it's his fault you're in this state of crankiness.

You were sitting up on your bed, hair in all directions as you nursed the headache you'd gotten. Lack of sleep really gave you the worst of headaches and it didn't help you'd drunk a little, not more than a few sips, but the after-effect was definitely there.

You hissed as your bare feet touched the cold floor before you finally found your fuzzy bunny slippers you'd gotten as a gift from Kitty.

You dragged yourself out of your room, now being able to make out people talking on the other side.

"Well look who we have here looking like an absolute angel."

"Shut it Minho."

The retort came out like second nature as Minho smirked at your state despite the tiny concern that flashed across his face when he saw you holding your head as you sat on the floor between Kitty and Q who only shared a look when they definitely didn't miss that flash of concern.

You looked at Q, questioning "So why are we having a family meeting here?"

"We were just having a discussion about weird dreams." Kitty answered you and you looked at her, humming and suddenly a light bulb lit up from your only two alive braincells.

"You had a sex dream." Both Q and you said at the same time, him sitting up while a smirk just formed on your face.

"Was it about Dae?" Q asked holding his coffee in his hand. Kitty's eyes widened and shook her head immediately.

"So it wasn't about Dae, huh." You said as you wondered, your slightly swollen eyes blinking in thought.

"No! No I didn't say I had a sex dream." Kitty tried defending herself.

You lightly snorted, yawning a bit, "You didn't have to though."

"Exactly now spill." Q continued and you noticed movement from behind and saw Minho coming, with three mugs in his hand, handing one to Kitty and one to you.

He was oddly quiet and stiff, now wondering what made him like that because he'd definitely would have said something snarky by now.

"-dreams don't mean anything!" Kitty's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you sipped your coffee skeptically hoping it's not poisoined, but you hummed in satisfaction at the sweetness that contrasted the bitterness.

It was exactly how you liked it. Not too bitter like how people would usually drink it, you preferred it sweet because you had a huge sweet tooth.

Minho's gaze shifted towards you, recalling something as he swallowed nervously when he saw the small grin on your face.

"She's right! They don't mean anything." He suddenly looked towards Q who was already looking at him with his eyebrows raised, sipping his own cup.

Your eyes opened and you lazily looked at Minho, whose body language seemed even more stiff now.

"You could have a sex dream about someone you've repulsed your whole life." You looked in confusion at his words, one eyebrow raised.

Kitty agreed "Yes, yes exactly thank you Minho."

"He could have a sex dream about someone like…Y/N!"

You almost choked on your coffee before you spat out what was in your mouth, as Minho had a similar reaction.

"So you had a sex dream about Y/N." Q said as if it was the most obvious thing and you looked at him in horror.

"Hello?? Why are you talking about me as if I'm literally not here?" You were ignored as Minho quickly defended himself,

"No I didn't." He said, avoiding looking at you as you continued to stare at him with your eyes widened.

"And if I did have a sex dream about Y/N, it'd be a sex nightmare." You scoffed at his words while Kitty whispered Oh my God.

"Please, you'd be lucky to even have me in your dreams let alone real life." You spoke before you could think about it.

"So you still had sex?" Q piped up and Minho quickly blurted,

"Dreams don't mean anything! Besides I hate Y/N!" He said sparing a glance at you who just seemed confused at where this conversation had led up to.

"Wait a minute-"

"We're getting late! I still uh need to get ready!" Minho said turning around before you could even question anything, not being able to see how red his face had gotten as he ran to his room and slammed the door shut.

Blinking once and twice, you looked at Kitty and Q,

"So can someone just tell me what happened?"

They indeed didn't tell you anything, or rather didn't get a chance to before the door was knocked on and in came in your advisor, telling you about how you all had gotten Saturday detention and hoped last night was worth it.

You groaned as he left, holding the cup of coffee mumbling curse words. The same cup of coffee, that was exactly how you liked it, that was made by Minho. Something you didn't even realize how he knew your perfect order.

THE SECOND TIME.

You'd rather be watching paint dry than be in this boring detention.

Saturday flew in and in no time, were you already sitting in the library for your eight hour detention.

You groaned as you leaned forward, wanting to drop your head on the table before a hand placed itself between it and the hard surface of the table, making you hit it softly and for a second you thought about how warm it felt.

"You'll damage the tiny amount of brain cells you have in there." Minho's voice mocked you, as you looked up, your chin laying on his hand.

Glaring, you didn't even realise how he gulped at how you'd still maintain physical contact by not lifting your head up.

"Screw you." You scoffed, sitting straight up,

"Why am I even sitting with you?" You questioned crossing your arms and the scowl didn't leave your face.

"Maybe you finally realized how obsessed you are with me and felt like you had to be closer to me." He said with that annoying smirk plastered on his face.

You snorted, "Please it's only because it was the only seat available!"

The smirk didn't leave his face, only growing wider as he leaned in to whisper in your ear,

"All I'm hearing is excuses." His voice rang in your ears, noticing the rasp and how deep it sounded, swallowing nervously, you didn't know why you felt like your heart would jump out of your chest.

You leaned away from him, rolling your eyes, brushing away what you felt as irritation from being around Minho too much.

You shivered due to the temperature in the library being too low for your liking, the air conditioning being colder than you would have kept it.

You internally cussed at yourself for wearing a crop top instead of bringing an extra sweater with you,forgetting it's usually chilly in there.

Minho noticed the shiver, rolling his eyes, he suddenly began taking off his own bomber jacket. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but they relaxed when you felt a sudden warmth engulf you.

"You'll catch a cold and it'll end up infecting everyone." He scolded you before you could even say anything, words dying down before you could even question his actions, too stunned.

You just blinked at him, mumbling a small thanks to which he just sent you a curt nod, his attention back to the doodling he'd been doing in his book.

"Did he just-"

"Yes. Yeah he did."

Kitty questioned to which Yuri answered both stunned at what they'd just seen.

"Don't they, I don't know, hate each other?" Yuri asks, confused looking back at Kitty.

"Guess hate and love are two sides of the same coin, afterall huh?" Kitty spoke up.

They both paused and looked at each other, bursting out in giggles.

THE THIRD TIME.

You stared at the clock, your eyes fixated on the minute hand that moved agonizingly slow, your head resting on the palm of your chin that was using your right arm as a stand.

You sighed mumbling to yourself about how time seemed to be against you.

“Instead of boring your eyes into the clock, maybe if you paid attention to what was being taught, your tiny brain could finally excel in this.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your head towards the boy who sat beside you.

Pausing a bit when you realised how the sunlight from the window literally made it seem like he glowed, his cheekbones highlighted by it and his lips seemingly more plump and pinker as he spoke.

Minho’s attentions wasn’t on you though, at least it would seem like that because he was staring ahead, his focus on his notes as he wrote what was being taught, his hands splayed across his notebooks.

Even when he sat, you noticed he still seemed taller than you. Sometimes you even wonder how you always end up next to him.

“I’d say take a photo and it would last longer but I’m pretty sure you already have enough of those with you, stalker.” He said, taking a peak at you from the corner of his eyes, a smirk forming on his face when he saw you scoffing.

“As if, besides since when did you care about me paying attention or not.” Minho stopped for a second at your words, hand freezing mid way from his note taking and it was now his turn to roll his eyes at you.

“Because you’re a distraction.” He spoke lowly, making sure you were the only one who heard, and only now you noticed you’d both been murmuring amongst each other as if you were friends just gossiping.

Not wanting to argue more, you just sighed and looked ahead,

“Ugh, whatever.”

You looked down at your own notebook, narrowing your eyes when you saw you’d only written half a page and stealing a glance at Minho’s, your eyes now widening when you counted that he was already on what seemed like his third page.

Damn I really must have zoned out.

Now you just thought of your options, either you skip some pages and just write what was being taught at the moment, finishing what you missed afterwards.

Clicking your tongue, you just closed your notebook, slightly pushing it away. Knowing being at the way back in a crowded classroom was helpful at times like this but having Alex as your professor being another advantage, you folded your arms on the table and plopped your head onto it sideways.

You sighed, relieved at the position, even though it may seem uncomfortable, but at the time, it felt just right.

You shut your eyes, the last thing you saw being Mingo from the way you had positioned your head, with you facing towards him and let yourself be surrounded by the temporary darkness.

“So you’re just going to sleep during the lecture?”

“Yep.” You said still with your eyes closed.

“I barely got any, considering the Vampire Diaries marathon Kitty and I had last night.”

You mumbled, feeling yourself give in to your dreamland.

“You both are terrible roommates because who even has a series marathon in the middle of a school week?” Minho asked you scoffing, turning his head to his left so he could look down at you.

You opened one eye and put your tongue out childishly to mock him,

“Only the fun kind of roommates, now shut up and do your work, let me sleep.”

“You seriously need to be more responsible, I mean come on, you have dark circles right now.” He whisper yelled as he scanned your face.

“Okay mum. I’ll make sure of it.” You murmured to him, the last of your words being softer as you finally gave in to your dreams.

Minho sighed when he heard you exhale softly, seeing the way the sun reflected on your face.

He wondered how you could just fall asleep but then again he knew you’d probably stayed awake just to give company because he knew you didn’t even like The Vampire Diaries.

You’d once told how lame you found it that the only relevant plot was two brothers fighting for a girl, and how it was ridiculously stupid.

He moved his body a bit forward, so that the sunlight could not fall on your face, and upon that the scrunch in your brows relieved unconsciously. He reached his hand forward to tuck away the hair piece that seemed to bother you. His fingertips lingering on your cheek and you leaned into the touch unknowingly.

Pulling his hand away, he gently smiled at you, shaking his head fondly as he brought back his attention to what was being taught.

[ a few moments later ]

“Wake up sleeping beauty, it’s time.” You heard as you felt someone flick your forehead.

Groaning you swatted away the hand, as you slowly rose up, rubbing your eyes, and blinking a few times as you tried recalling who you were and where you were.

“Seems like someone’s nap time was well.” Minho smirked at you, packing his books away to which you turned to him and glared.

“Hope you dreamt of me well!” He said a grin on his face now as your lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah it’d be more of a nightmare if you showed up in my dreams.” You said rolling your eyes, and gathering your own notebook, realising it was pretty pointless to have even removed it today as you basically barely wrote anything.

You pulled your bag up to the desk and tucked away your book.

Minho slid a book towards you, making you pause your movements as you glanced at him in question.

“Here, today’s class work and homework as well, if you don’t get something, considering you probably won’t, come to the library after school is over.” He said standing up, to which you still looked between him and the book in question, skeptical of his sudden act of…kindness?

“Stop staring idiot, you’ll get late.” He said as he slowly walked away, you thought about it and grabbed his notebook, putting it in between your own and standing up, sliding one strap on your shoulder.

“Thank…you?” You said turning around noticing he was already gone.

Huh, weird. Well that was nice of him…for once.

You shook your head, walking out as well, realizing you indeed learn something new about him every time.

THE FOURTH TIME.

It was another outing of the nature club you'd join in support of Kitty's new venture of wanting to do new things.

Although initially, you'd reluctantly agreed but you'd learn to enjoy it once you spent more times with nature.

Though sometimes you wish you could just jump off the cliff because lo and behold, Minho had also spontaneously joined it as well.

Over time, you'd just learnt to ignore his shit, just paying attention to your surroundings and focusing all your energy on that.

You didn't even notice how he'd always be trailing beside you though, since the beginning of it actually.

But of course those around you did.

Q and Dae looked at their best friend, both wondering the same thing.

"Do you think he notices?" Dae asked as they hiked up, Q looked at him in question and followed his gaze, perceiving what he meant.

“He is still in denial as to why he even joined this club in the first place, remember how much I tried convincing him to join but he always refused with bullshit excuses but suddenly when Y/N joins, he’s apparently thought about it well and understood it was good to be one with nature, hence why he would be joining.”

Dae shook his head, chuckling as he recalled the denial on his face from when they confronted him about it.

“I don’t even think he realizes that Q, let alone how he always seems to be beside them when he gets the chance.” Dae said, staring at the pair of you, you seemed more than happy to be there as Minho skeptically walked beside you.

Suddenly an arm was placed in front of you, making you suddenly freeze in your place and your gaze followed it to the owner, confusion flooding your mind as you looked at Minho in question.

He moved in front of you and knelt down on one knee, to which your eyes widened and you looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this.

Hissing at him, more so in confusion, "What the hell are you doing?"

He scoffed and pointed down at your shoes, more so your shoe laces.

"You'll literally trip on them and fall on your face resulting in you getting hurt and you'll end up causing problems."

Once again, your mouth gaped at him as he went back to his task which was tying your shoelaces.

At times, he truly did confuse the ever living fuck out of you. Because for one he'd be doing the nicest things but then the gesture would be contradicting with what he would have to say afterwards.

You noticed how strands of his hair moved out of place as a result of him looking down to focus on tying your laces.

You bit your lip to control the smile from spreading on your face and he got up, dusting his hands.

"You know you should be grateful that I decided to be with you right now otherwise your clumsy ass would have probably broken a foot by now."

There it was. The contradicting words to his gestures.

Not wanting to start an argument, you just sighed and shook your head, mumbling a thanks as you walked ahead, having been left behind by a few paces.

Minho glared at you, taking a few steps to catch up with you,

"That was mean of you." He said and you took a side glance at him to see a frown on his face and you sighed once again,

"Thank you so much Minho, whatever would I have done if it weren't for your presence."

You grinned widely, blinking your eyes forcefully as you fluttered your eyelashes.

Before he could speak again, you turned forward and rolled your eyes, continuing your hike.

When you reached the top view, you could see the entire city of Seoul and just how mesmerizing it looked.

As a whole it looked breathtaking, the tall buildings and the miniature figures doing about their own things, the sky's colours contrasting the shades, the sun setting slowly as the last warmth of it bled on your face.

You didn't even notice Minho was right beside you, admiring the city view as well. Though his eyes naturally drifted towards you, even if he never wanted them to but it seemed like second nature to him now, his eyes finding you anytime you were around.

Your own sparked as you took in the little details of the view, unknowingly a smile forming on your face making the tiny depths form on your cheeks. Your hair slightly moving from the soft breeze and you'd laugh at the timing but you didn't notice that as you were too in your own world.

Blinking, he felt his own heart flutter as he whispered so tenderly, you probably wouldn't have heard him if he weren't next to you,

"Beautiful, you really are beautiful."

Looking beside you, you were once again left speechless when you saw who it was, and pretended you didn't hear, asking

"Sorry what was that?"

That seemed to snap him out of his gaze as he looked in front, coughing into his hand, sounding more fake than real,

"Uh, I meant that the view is really beautiful! Yeah the view…" He looked to the other side to make sure you wouldn't see the redness forming on his face.

You just nodded at him, turning your attention back in front of you,

"It is, isn't it? It was definitely worth the hike!"

You beamed as you put your hands on your hips, happy with the end result of the exhausting hike.

"Anyways we should be heading down now, if we were to reach before nightfall."

You paused looking around and found Q and Dae already looking at you both, you waved them over.

"Q! Dae! Why didn't I see both during the hike up?"

"Maybe cause someone wouldn't leave you and your attention was on him mostly." Q murmured to which, luckily you didn't seem to catch what he said as you raised an eyebrow.

Dae nudged Q with his elbow on his stomach, to which Q hissed in a little pain.

"That was so unnecessary!" Dae still kept his smile,

"What he meant was, you seem preoccupied but really we were trailing behind too." He told, his eyes shifting to Minho's for one second when he said preoccupied and you noticed this.

"Well let's all go together for the hike down?"

Minho wanted to protest but he realised it'd probably seem suspicious and knowing how his best friends were, they'd figure it and look into this more than he would like them too.

Plus he wasn't entirely sure why he detested the idea of not being able to be with you only for the hike down.

He hated your guts didn't he? He only just…taught you were too clumsy and stupid, as well as unserious.

At least that was what he kept convincing himself, yet it was far more obvious to everyone around you except yourselves that there was definitely more than just animosity.

And as you began going down the steps, you almost tripped as your leg got caught in a root but lucky for you, there was Minho by your other side, who'd pulled your arm to make sure you didn't fall right on your face.

"Seriously if it weren't for me, you'd probably end up dead by now."

His hand still on your arm, the contact making you feel warmer than you should and for a second your eyes drifted towards his lips as you thought about just how close you were to him.

You pulled away your arm and gulped, nodding at his words nonchalantly as you couldn't get the image of his lips out of your mind, as much as you hated it.

Q and Dae again, shared a look as if silently communicating,

Yep, there's more to this than just animosity.

THE FIFTH TIME.

Frowning at the big red F on your Korean Literature test, you felt like bursting into tears.

Really it wasn't your fault you were bad at adjusting to the language, after all it'd only been a few months since you were taught about it afresh.

Kitty sighed at your frowny face, texting your shared group chat about canceling today's movie night for the time being, your phone on silent since you'd gotten the test.

kitty loml 💗 : guys no movie night today, y/n's not feeling too well :((((

You didn't even notice it but Minho immediately texted in the group chat when he read the message.

minhoe 👹 : what happened????

dae my bae 🥳 : wow look who spawned in this "lame gc" 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

👑 : ohhh he's right tho but srsly what happened? are they alright???

kitty loml 💗 : Korean Lit happened 😶

👑 : Ohhhh yikes.

Kitty set aside her phone and looked back at you before you spoke,

"What am I doing wrong? I'm trying my best and it just seems pointless now." You feel tears of frustration forming as you yanked the paper away because it just seemed like the red mark was taunting you.

"Y/N, you know it's not your fault, Korean is really hard to learn afresh and see your Korean is way better than mine already!"

She tried cheering you up and you just shook your head.

"No Kitty, I've been learning this longer than you have and it's not even helping me at all if this is the end result!" You wiped harshly at the tears that poured out, your voice snapping at the end.

You sighed as you saw Kitty flinch, not in fear but more so in surprise because she didn't expect you to snap, yet she knew everyone had their own days.

Exhaling softy, you spoke "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap, I'll just…I'm going to take a shower to cool down."

Before she could reply, you turned away, walking to your room, before you slammed your door shut harsher than you wished.

👑 : how's the situation?

kitty loml 💗 : wellll they've gone to take a shower now, but they are pretty upset.

👑 : oh that's not great.

minhoe 👹 : wait guys, what flavour of Pocky was their favourite again? Cookies and cream or chocolate?

kitty loml 💗 : y r u asking this out of nowhere and I'm pretty sure it's just plain chocolate.

dae my bae 🥳 : oh wait didn't you read the previous messages? anyways it was a pretty long thing but in short Minho went to the grocery store to get some snacks for Y/N cause he's "sure" they haven't eaten yet because of how 'forgetful" they are

👑 : code for comfort snacks for an upset y/n to make them feel better because i care but won't admit it.

minhoe 👹 : gosh you all are do fuckinf annoying

kitty loml 💗 : and you are so fucking whipped

👑 : oop pretty sure i can see him blushing all the way from here

dae my bae 🥳 : he just cussed out loud and now we're getting glared at by some grandma, good going minHOE 👹

slayest of the slayers 🙏 : lol

👑 : OMGFJZJZ HIII HELLO R U OKAYY???

kitty loml 💗 : i thought the giggles were me going insane but it was you okay.

slayest of the slayers 🙏 : one way to say i live in ur mind 😈😈 and yes Q, i am fine for now at least, I'll figure out how to conqure this stupid subject somehow.

minhoe 👹 : plzzz it'd be like having a demon in ur head

👑 : YOU shouldn't say that when y/n is probably in ur mind all day and also feel free to message any of us for help when u need it!

You turned off your phone, laughing as you heard the notifications in your group chat blow up.

You'd gotten out of the shower, feeling way better than you had but still just choosing to lay in your bed when you noticed your notifications were piling up.

You giggled when you read through the chats, intervening and feeling your heart at ease when you thought about your friends worrying over you and checking up on you.

You were grateful to have found them, especially considering you were so new and awkward when you joined KISS, thinking you'd never make friends but now you could proudly say you loved them with all you had.

Though as you laid, gazing up at the celing lit up with lights from outside, you thought of one particular person whose actions nowadays made you more confused than anything.

It was Minho, of course.

Lately it seemed he'd taken a place in your mind, ironically having flashbacks to your conversation in the group chat about you occupying his mind but it was more of the opposite on your side.

At least that was what you thought.

You thought over every gesture of his, everytime he seemed to show he cared but then you recalled his harsh words those times and stepped back a bit from your fantasies.

He was too different anyways, a star out of your reach, a boundary you feared to cross, a line that was the more blatant.

So why did your heart feel heavier at the idea of him being out of league?

You gulped when you mentally weighed your options, closing your eyes and thinking of his annoying smirk but even more his annoyingly pretty smile that was rare but when you did see it, it did something to you that made you feel all fuzzy. His annoying hair that always had strands misplaced which you always itched the urged to tuck them back gently, his soft lips, his eyes-

A knock on your door woke you up and you got up putting your hand on your chest.

The pattering in it making it feel like you just ran a whole marathon.

You rose up and quietly walked to your door.

You think you almost puked your guts out of nervousness when you saw who was on the other end.

"You need to check on your messaging skills." You stayed frozen as Minho pushed you aside and entered your room as though he owned the place. It was like something he had that once he entered a room, it naturally became his place.

You noticed he had a bag of something in his hands and you remembered the texts in the group chats.

"Oh wait, did you really?" You asked pointing towards the bag,as he plopped down on your bed, looking at you while rolling his eyes.

"Of course, I know you'd probably starve yourself if you could, that's why I bought something for you." He said and you made your way towards him, a little skeptical and your nerves didn't seem to have calmed.

You sat down beside him, a bit of distance between you two yet you still felt a bit dizzy considering this was probably the first time he'd been in your room.

He pushed the bag towards you, looking at you expectantly.

"Here, it's mostly what you like, as far as I know." You looked through the assortment and indeed, it was like all of your favourites in one.

Your mind couldn't wrap around the fact that it was Minho out of everyone that remembered all your favorite snacks. A little detail but you found it fluttering when someone would remember the smallest things about you. Only this time it felt like your heart would jump out of your chest as you thought about this.

"Well, are you feeling better now?" You snapped your head towards him, nodding absentmindedly.

"Look. Since I am feeling nice, I'll help you out. I can tutor you between 5-7 every Wednesday and Friday at the library. I checked your schedule and saw you were also free those days-"

"Wait what? Where did you even get my schedule???" You genuinely asked confused trying to comprehend his words.

"Out of all that, that's what you want to know?" Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms "I saw it during the start of the year, to see which classes I'd have to tolerate you in and mentally prepare myself for."

"..." You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

"Oh…Kay?" You said more so questionably, wondering if you'd ever invest your time in someone like that, especially if it were someone you don't like.

He got up to leave, not wanting to embarrass himself more than he thought he did.

"Well uh…I am gonna go now, don't be late! Or I swear I'm never doing anything nice for your dumbass ever again!Don't forget to eat those, seriously I spent money and my precious time in those." He rushed to your door, turning back one last time to you.

"...Just…just next time, ask for help when you need it alright? And it's okay to not do well at times even if you do your best, sometimes it's not your fault." He looked at you expectantly to which you just nodded, still flabbergasted by his actions since he arrived.

He gave one last nod and turned around, slamming the door closed.

What the fuck just happened ?

You asked more so to yourself as you looked the bag in your hands, Minho's words ringing in your head, him offering to tutor you, actually telling you he'd be tutoring you.

Just him. Him and his…kind gestures?

You groaned, setting the bag down beside your bed and falling flat on your bed.

You stared at the ceiling looking for answers for questions you didn't even know about.

And suddenly a sentence rang through your mind.

Gasping loudly as you sat up, wide eyed as an epiphany hit you,

Fuck.

I think I like him.

I like Minho.

THAT ONE TIME.

As a normal person would when they come to be able to identify the confusion and chaos their mind was in and why they were in that state, you did one thing.

Avoid it and the cause of it.

In other words, as a way to deal with the realization of your liking, you decided to just avoid Minho at all costs, at least until it would come to bite you eventually.

You knew your friends noticed your behavior, how you'd basically changed routes and even certain classes, pouring excuses like you couldn't study during that time and it was better to change.

The new revelation caused a lot of changes in the way you saw of his actions. It definitely didn't help when you would recall at the times he'd done them late in the night and it would leave you with a hope that was only growing higher.

Only to come crashing down when you would think about how he might not even see you in the same way, maybe it was just as a friend.

Frenemies.

A term you learnt and as much as you felt like it certainly fit your dynamic, it still left a bitter afterthought that you hated because you knew you wanted more.

Much more.

As you sat down in a cafeteria in Seoul to study, yes you'd gone that far as to avoid studying at the campus just to avoid bumping into Minho.

And to your misfortune,Minho did notice though, how you didn't show up to the library for your planned study session that you'd confirmed but cancelled last minute, how you didn't even reply to messages in the group chat, excuses like you were busy with work and assignments.

He'd scoff when you pulled that excuse, as if you weren't in the same grade and didn't have the same workload. When he would ask Kitty or Q or anyone actually, they'd also have similar answers, not knowing where you were or you were locked in your room most of the time when Kitty would come to ask you for anything.

You felt guilty for avoiding your friends like that, even Minho didn't deserve that especially considering he'd even offered to help you.

With a sigh, you opened your books and tried to study at least until it was near time to go back to your dorms.

[ a few hours later ]

After a somewhat successful study session of you attempting to finish your Korea Lit assignment that'd been eating your brains quite literally as you felt a headache forming when you realized you didn't understand anything, you decided you had enough.

Groaning exhaustedly, you winded up your books and packed them, deciding it was time to just head back, frankly there'd been so much on your mind you were pretty sure that was probably one of the major reasons you didn't understand anything academic related.

Or you were just terrible at Korean Literature and really should have just stepped in your ego and crushed it when Minho offered to help you and gone to his tutoring lessons.

But noo you just had to have an epiphany that you really liked him, in a romantic way that same day he offered.

Deciding you deserved some kind of reward for tolerating and trying at least, you took a little detour to the grocery store that was along the way.

Purchasing a lychee moju moju along with some small snacks to eat, you quickly rushed to head back to campus before Kitty came back to your dorms from the library.

Memorizing her schedule so as to know when to avoid her became a part of your routine, a benefit was it was quite similar to the rest of them so you could also avoid them all at once. At least until you were ready.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice something in front of you until it was too late.

And when you took a step and a loud hiss followed that scared you so bad,you literally tripped on your own feet and fell straight to the hard concrete, face first.

Luckily you'd been able to divert your face sideways so to make sure there'd be less of an impact on your precious nose.

Now it was your turn to hiss as you groaned, rising on your hands to get up slowly.

The right side of your face was the one that had contact with the ground so it hurt like a fucking bitch when you tried to move.

As you rose up to your feet, you caressed the side of your injured face and winced when you felt something warm and wet.

Sighing exhaustedly when you indeed saw it was blood.

You're such a clumsy ass.

Words unknowingly flashed in your mind, words that a certain someone once told you and back then you were annoyed but now you felt that they really were right.

As much as it hurts your ego to admit that.

Suddenly you saw something small moving in the corner of your eye, the street being lit up only by street lights placed around five meters apart.

As you moved closer, you hoped this wasn't a grave mistake and you were not walking to your own death.

As you removed your phone from your left pocket to flash your flashlight because it had been in an area where the streetlight did not cover the range hence it was sort of dark.

You braced yourself for the worse,

Okay calm down, you can run for it and you'll save your—

Wait.

What?

You deadpanned once you saw what was hidden in the dark.

It was a cat.

A brown and black one and it was caressing its tail, hissing at you once you flashed your phone at it.

You connected the dots and sighed in relief, knowing it wasn't a murderer and it wasn't a trap; rather you had likely stepped on its tail when you didn't notice it in front of you due to its color being less visible in the dark spot.

A sense of guilt crept up on you when you thought about how you must have hurt it, even if it was unintentionally.

Deciding you'd help it, at least by giving it something to eat, you grabbed your grocery bag that sadly laid out splayed out.

Knowing you didn't have anything cat friendly to feed, you pointed at it as if talking to it.

"I'll be back! Stay here."

Turning around and making a second round trip to the grocery store, not even realizing it was nearing dangerously close to your curfew.

You didn't even notice the look of pure concern on the cashier's face, having forgotten your injuries both as a result of adrenaline basically numbing the pain and also you being in a hurry when you noted the time.

Surprisingly the cat was still in its spot, eyes closed and sitting with its head tilted who you knelt down to it.

You opened the can of tuna and your nose scrunched in disgust at the smell, but someone else was delighted as it leaned forward immediately.

Chuckling at the cat's eagerness, you placed it on the ground and it dived right in, devouring the tuna.

"You probably haven't eaten in a while huh?"

Gazing at the cat with sympathy and speaking as if the cat would understand you, you sighed sadly.

As one would when seeing a cat, you moved your hand to pet its head, but just as you were about to touch it, it decided you were the enemy.

Hissing at you, you didn't even get to avoid it when it swiped it's paw at your hand.

It wasn't too deep, but it definitely left a mark and oh it also definitely hurt, burned as well.

You pulled your hand, seeing the scratch mark deep enough to draw blood and once again groaned in pain.

The swipe was right on your fingers, moving across from your index to your pinky.

And it was beginning to bleed fast.

"Wow so you definitely aren't fond of physical affection." Wincing in pain as now it began to burn even more, you moved behind, pushing the can with your uninjured hand.

"Fine fine I'll leave you be." You told it gently, noticing it had retreated behind.

You got up while pressing your palm to the scratched fingers, making sure it wouldn't just began bleeding badly out of nowhere.

Shit I probably don't even have a first aid kit.

Today could not get any worse.

And you probably jinxed that as you looked the wristwatch in your left hand for the time.

8:45 pm

A whole twenty minutes passed curfew.

Fuck, you were so screwed now.

You facepalmed yourself only to almost scream in pain as you accidentally hit the right side of your injured forehead.

Great I probably look like I got beat up.

You began walking as fast as you could, your bag seeming heavier as you'd stuff everything including your grocery into it.

Please please please let the advisor not be there right now for checking.

As you reached the gates, you sighed in relief seeing they were still open but slowed down to see if there were any guards around.

It felt like you were suddenly thrown into a secret mission, one to avoid getting caught and possibly getting a suspension for being out so late.

Your wound had stopped bleeding profusely when you'd pulled the sleeve of your sweater over it, engulfing your hand completely.

It pained you to ruin that sweater but you could just buy a new one, hopefully.

Hiding behind a streetlight that was a few meters away from the gatez you scanned your surroundings ahead.

You could almost hear the James Bond theme music playing in your head.

You didn't spot any guards around and the gate was open, so you did the one thing only a true spy could possibly dare to do.

Make a run for it.

Ducking your head down and using the sleeve of your sweater to cover your face, you ran as fast as you could inside, trying to make as minimal noise as you could.

That was not the case when the grovel beneath crunched as you made a run for it and you cussed at yourself internally, praying no one was around.

Lucky for you, your dorm was nearer to the entrance and you felt like bursting out in tears of joy when you neared the building.

Running up the steps, you paid no mind to anyone around you.

"Wait, is anyone still out?! It's almost nine come on guys!"

Eyes widening when you realized you made a grave mistake assuming no one was in the hallways, you turned the opposite direction of your room as footsteps began nearing.

Shit, I need to hide.

Being in this crisis was possibly the worst rotten cherry on top of your nightmarish sundae.

Suddenly, you registered this wasn't your hallway, heck you'd entered the wrong building in a moment of stupidity.

This was the boys dorm building when you noticed the familiar numbers.

Wait a minute.

Your eyes scanned for a number you'd seen countless times by now as you slowly but quickly moved ahead. The footsteps had gotten slow and you knew Alex was in the other hallway, probably looking for who was around.

Grinning when the familiar number was on the door, you didn't think much and just knocked harshly.

"Q! It's Y/N, I'll explain everything but please I'll get caught if you don't open right now!"

Whispering harshly into the door in a panicky tone, you knocked rapidly making sure it wasn't too loud.

You were sure your heart almost dropped out of your chest when you heard the footsteps approaching your direction again.

Your hand dropped to your side as you looked in the direction of Alex heading and you didn't even realize the door had already opened.

You almost yelped so loudly when you felt a tug on your arm pulling you inside. The grip on your arm was strong enough to just drag you inside and you closed your eyes out of fear.

You were pinned behind the door, your back pressing into it as a large hand covered your hand to prevent the yelp out of your mouth. The person's other hand was on your waist to prevent you from falling straight to the ground.

You listened closely to the footsteps and sighed in temporary relief when they passed the dorm.

Only now did you grimace in pain,the hand on your mouth unknowingly hurting the injuries on your face,you reached your hand to tug it out of your face.

The person immediately backed away the moment you grimaced, it was so quick as if they'd been burnt by you. You almost fell over as you'd lean your entire weight on them.

"What the actual fuck happened to you?"

A familiar voice asked in both astonishment and even a hint of anger.

Your eyes were still shut, collecting yourself before you opened them as you relaxed briefly.

You had to blink twice when you noticed who was in front of you.

"Oh…it's you." You murmured, looking anywhere else but at Minho the moment you perceived it was him the whole time.

He scanned your entire face, obviously noticing the blood as well as the bruise, as his eyes lowered, he also saw the blood on your sweater sleeve, your hand now free and the visible marks bleeding once again from being exposed to sudden movement.

When he first heard you, he'd been laying on the couch scrolling on his phone, bored because Q had chosen to spend the night at Florian's, having the place to himself for tonight.

He swore he felt his heart drop when he heard you panicking tone on the other side and didn't even care if it was the first time he'd seen in two weeks of nothing, he pulled you in and when he heard you almost yell, he just placed his palm to shut you up as he heard the footsteps pass by.

He didn't mean to scare you but at the moment, all he could really think about was who even or what even happened to you.

"Who did this to you?" His tone seemed aggressive as he questioned in a deeper voice than usual. Well usual was also deep but it was something you got used to.

You'd become frozen the moment he spoke, not knowing what to say, a little embarrassed at how you ended up in this situation. He stepped forward, straightening up instinctively in alarm.

His eyebrows furrowed in question as he pushed his tongue to the side, lowering his head to your level, now near eye level with you, your eyes following his every movement.

You tried not to flinch too harshly when he grazed his fingertips on your cheek and lip, where you'd gotten hurt as well as the place near you eye and eyebrow.

"Uh, so like you see, it looks worse than what actually happened so really it isn't too big of a deal—"

Stepping back a bit, he looked at you ridiculously

"Not too big of a deal ?!" He questioned as if daring you to say it again,

"You must be kidding me right now." He laughed humorlessly as he ran his hand through his hair and you tried not to stare like an idiot.

And as cliche as it could be getting, you felt light headed as you tried to keep your balance. Blinking harshly to keep your eyes open, you almost fell forward when you took a step but this time Minho was able to catch you in time.

"Hey, hey, don't faint on me right now okay? Let's just get you seated first."

You leaned your weight on him as he held you with one arm, he'd move beside you to make you comfortable as he slowly walked you to the couch. Before he laid you down, he removed your bag from your shoulders and put it aside, to make sure you'd be able to lay more properly.

You sighed in both relief and exhaustion when you finally sat down.

"Wait I'll be back."

He recalled the first aid kit he had in his drawer and went to get it as soon as he could.

You shut your eyes, tiredness overwhelming you, not only from the adrenaline high getting over but also from the mental exhaustion that'd you'd been having since the whole mess.

You opened your eyes when you felt a weight beside you, Minho sitting down with a first aid kit in his hand.

He opened it to remove a bottle of hydrogen peroxide that made you scrunch your nose a little in disgust at the color and some cotton pads, band-aids, and a roll of bandage.

You noticed they were hello kitty ones, the same ones you used and that thought made you smile even for a brief moment.

"You really got this ones too?" You asked softly and Minho turned to look at you, looking at the band aids in awe and snorted at your expression.

"You are here, almost on the verge of passing out but you are questioning whether I have the same hello kitty band aids you have? And to answer your question, yes."

"Gotta keep those priorities in check."

He rolled his eyes as he soaked the cotton pad with the hydrogen peroxide, the familiar deep brown color showing.

He gently took your hand and began to clean the wound.

Hissing loudly, you sat more straight about to pull away but he still kept the grip on your arm.

"It's okay, it'll hurt a bit, just hold on for a sec." Minho gently said to you as he focused on cleaning it, laying your hand on your lap and taking another cotton pad when the current one got used enough.

As much as you wanted to cuss out loud, you decided to put your focus elsewhere, choosing his face was the perfect place for that.

His eyes were as soft as his touch, you didn't think he'd be this gentle with you but here you were, him tending to your wounds, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his jaw was unknowingly clenched in the same focus.

"Sorry." You blurted out of nowhere, the guilt from everything piling up one by one, from the fact that you'd been ignoring him for two weeks only to show up after and him having to tend to your injuries when he could have just kicked you out.

He briefly made eye contact with you, wiping the now cleaner cuts with a dry cotton pad, and opening the kit again to remove a tube of antibiotic ointment.

The coolness of the ointment made you almost breath out of relief but you were still tense because Minho hadn't said anything yet.

"I get that you must be…angry with me. It's reasonable but I have my own reasons, I think they are pretty valid if you want to hear them out?" 

You finished, your throat closing up afterwards and you felt like you'd pass out from how fast your heart began beating.

"How did you get injured like this? First, tell me that." He finally spoke, wrapping a sterile white bandage around your fingers after the ointment.

He carefully finished wrapping and tied a knot, making sure it wasn't too tight as he looked at you questionably, to which you shook your head.

"It's stupid. Really." 

"I know you're stupid but—"

"I fell." You let the cat out of the bag and diverted your gaze, his movements pausing to process your words as if he heard wrong.

"Don't lie to me. Did someone bully you and beat you up—"

"I was coming to the dorms from my "study" session at the cafe that's like twenty minutes away from here, when I went to the grocery store for…stuff. And after I got what I needed, I was heading here and I was uh…preoccupied with something that I didn't see what was infront of me, so I stepped on it and then I tripped on my own feet and next thing I know my face was kissing the ground, then when—"

"You're telling me this was all because of your clu—"

"LET ME FINISH!" 

Minho shut up after that and pressed his lips into a thin line while you continued,

"As I was saying, I couldn't see what it was and it already hid in the dark when I flashed my phone's light, I saw it was a cat and then I felt bad for stepping on its tail, I went back and got some tuna for it at the store, I gave it to her but I think she was still upset so when I went to pet her, she scratched my fingers, which is why my hand is also injured."

"And oh, I ended up here by accident because I entered your dorm building while I was making a run for it and realized it too late, I didn't want to get caught so I thought of just asking whether I could hide in your dorm until the advisors stopped their rounds."

You breathed out heavily, your chest hurting from the lack of oxygen for saying all that in one go but you didn't want to embarrass yourself by thinking too much about it and just wanted to let it all out in go.

You moved your gaze back to Minho's when you noticed how quiet he'd gotten afterwards, having been looking somewhere else when telling how you got in this situation.

Narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously, he averted his gaze elsewhere while you scanned his expression.

"You can laugh if you want to." Sighing you finally said and that seemed to work as Minho laughed at you.

You deadpanned him as he spoke in between his laughing "You are really the biggest klutz I have known, I mean all this all because of a cat?!"

Rolling your eyes, you lightly frowned and Minho noticing this, began calming down,

"Okay, Okay I won't laugh, I'm sorry." He breathed out as he cleared his throat and looked at you, biting his bottom lip to stop the giggles as he saw your expressions.

"Are we done here? I have to go back to my room too—"

"I haven't even treated your face yet!" 

Now it was your turn to shut up and you slightly pouted at his scolding tone, 

"As hilarious as your little story is…you need to be more careful. Like this is kinda crazy to get hurt like this by just falling."

"Okay, mum got it." You mocked him and he glared at you, pressing the soaked cotton pad onto your cheek out of nowhere.

"YOU BITCH! WARN SOMEONE NEXT TIME—"

"You should have already known—"

"You KNOW WHAT FUCK YO—"

He ignored you as he continued to clean up your wound, your words being replaced with quite literally having to bite your tongue to control the hisses of pain.

"Now, now please shut up and stay still." 

You wanted to cuss at him again, claiming this was abuse but the look on his face challenged you to dare to pipe up again.

Instead, you just sighed in exhaustion, letting him finish his unnecessary kind act that was again questionable if it were out of his supposed kindness or convenience.

"Now there, all done." He placed the final hello kitty band-aid on your lip corner gently and you wished you could smile but that felt like a terrible idea as you remembered that even lifting up the corner of your right side made a sharp pain shoot up your lip.

"Thank you…I guess." You murmured softly to which a smug smile formed on his face, 

"I didn't hear you, could you please repeat that for me?" He pretended to be in thought of what you said when he clearly heard you due to your proximity.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and swallowing down the bitter taste on your tongue, having to put your ego down a little at this point.

"I said." 

"Thank you for this. Thank you for…helping me. Even when you didn't need to." 

Even if you couldn't see it because you'd been looking elsewhere but him, he had a tiny smile on his face as he watched you.

"Anytime clumsy idiot, if it weren't me to handle your clumsy ass, then who?" 

It was probably meant as a joke, maybe a taunt even but your heart took it in a different way as you felt the familiar butterflies flutter.

"Minho seriously stop it, you shouldn't just say things like that." 

He'd begun winding up the first aid kit and the extra stuff that was there, when he heard you say that under your breath, which made him stop his task.

"Things like what?" He faced you now, his body in your direction as you froze up.

"Oh you know what I mean…stuff that can be taken into….a different context by…people." You awkwardly said, trying to dodge your way out of what you actually meant.

"Do enlightenment me, you know about the context of this." He leaned in closer to you, a smirk forming on his face and you frowned, gulping thinking of what to say next.

"Uhm…well." Biting your lip in thought, the floor seemed like a better place to focus at.

Minho's eyes softened at that, deciding he'd rather not tease you more.

"You know, I still don't get why you have been ignoring me for two weeks. Actually, everyone for two weeks." He blurted out what he really wanted to ask since he'd been able to talk to you properly after this long.

"At first, I thought that maybe you were busy but after the first 4-5 days, I figured you'd been purposefully avoiding me." He said as he looked down and you could feel the guilt creeping up all over again.

"Look. What is something I did?" He asked you with a tone of regret looking at you to see if your expression would reveal anything and as you held eye contact, what made you snap was the sincerity in them.

"No! No, it's not you…well, it is about you but not because of you? It's me though! I am the problem here." Staring at him got too much so you just decided to stand up and avoid looking at him when you spoke. The proximity was also getting to your head and the musky yet expensive smell he wore was suddenly so strong it made you dizzy.

You began racing back and forth in that small space, as you thought of how to explain and you didn't even grasp you'd been rambling the whole time, your hands moving in gestures as actions to your words.

"I sort of just noticed something about me and it got a lot since I never really felt like that way and it's crazy because it is also unexpected—"

Minho stood up and stood in front of you, holding you by your shoulders, genuine concern on his face when he scanned your distressed look.

"Okay calm down, if you don't feel comfortable explaining anything right now, you can just rest and you can tell when you do feel like it."

"No."

He raised an eyebrow at your answer and you continued,

"I think… I want to say it." 

He dropped his hands from your shoulders, letting them rest by his sides as you looked into his eyes.

For that moment, you just now perceived how close you were to him, taking in how handsome he truly was, you never admitted it but it was very obvious.

Your eyes momentarily paused on his lips, maybe looking at them for longer than one should and before you could trail your gaze lower to the dip of his throat in his hoodie, you paused at his Adam's apple that bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

Even though he'd been the one who got close to you like this, Minho still felt a little nervous when you looked up at him like the way you were right now.

"Turn around." You ordered before you could even think about it and confusion flooded his face.

"I won't be able to say it while looking at you so please."

Pausing for a brief second, he turned on his heel now facing the greenish bluish wall.

"You know if you want to confess to a murder, you don't need to be afraid, I'll help you hide—"

"I think I'm in love with you." You exclaimed, ignoring his words as you stared at the back of his head.

He was not that taller than you, just by a few inches or so but it was just the right height.

Immediately, you noticed him shut up and tense up as his shoulders straightened.

"I personally never thought it'd be you out of all people but fuck, it's not like your heart lets you decide who you should fall in love with." You tugged at the uninjured hand's sleeve while you used your other to brush your hair behind your ear.

"As cheesy as that sounds. I don't know when it happened or how it happened but I do know when I knew. It was when you bought food for me when I was upset and it was everything I liked. Or maybe it was when despite being cold yourself, you'd offered me your sweater and gosh you just know how to pull at one's strings don't you?"

"I'll admit though, I was annoyed by you and your…attitude and I still will be but it's just that, crazily enough I think that's just one of the reasons I fell for you."

"You're many things Minho, stupid, annoying as fuck, bitchy at times as well, but you're also sweet and caring when you want to be. And now I am just rambling at this point so I'll just shut up."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the ground a great place to put your attention, your cheeks warming up and you swore you felt like you'd faint then and there.

It was like the atmosphere took a change after your confession and momentary rant. A lingering silence that felt loud and you really didn't know what to think.

Can I die at this moment right now? Dropping dead sounds so tempting.

"..."

"...can I uh…turn around now? To you know…talk?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously your eyes snapped to him, widening when you recalled that he was still facing the wall.

Groaning at the fact that you forgot he was not facing you, you coughed out awkwardly,

"Yeah! Of course…you can."

You held your breath as you waited for him to turn around, and when he did, you couldn’t even look at him.

Minho honestly didn’t know what to think, say or do.

Because what can you say after the person you’ve been pining over since the past few months suddenly confessed their apparently reciprocated love to you?

He thought he’d been doing a decent job hiding his feelings so he doesn’t need to face the brutal rejection fear we all get when we have a crush on our supposed ‘enemy’. But it got harder for him as time went by, and soon enough he found himself completely head over heels for you.

Taking his obvious silence as your answer, your heart grew heavier at the lack of response and you spoke up, breaking the blanket of quietness.

“I suppose you don’t feel the same way so I should probably just go anyways it’s getting late, just…forget I said anything-”

You began to slowly take a few steps back, making sure you wouldn’t fall and injure yourself again,

Minho’s head sharply turned towards you as his eyes widened in alarm, “Wait! You didn’t even let me say anything!”

Pausing in your steps before you could swiftly turn for the door and exit as quick as you could, now a sheepish look on your face as you saw his slightly annoyed and alarmed look.

“Well, I just assumed your silence was an answer?”

He crossed his arms now a few feet away from you as he was already making his way towards you.

“There you go again with you and your assumptions! You really should let someone speak at least.” He sighed rubbing the gap between his brows with his index finger.

He moved closer to you, now only an arm's length away from you, “Look at me, please?”

You had to raise your head a little to look him in the eyes and you felt like you could get lost in them, one hand was on your side, clenched in a fist out of nervousness.

“Who said I didn’t feel the same?” He asked so casually as if asking for your name and you could only gape at him at the implications.

“Because I definitely know that,” He gulped as he looked down at you, feeling like his heart might just jump out of his chest at what he was about to say.

“I am in love with you, maybe a little or by a whole lot. A whole lot I swear I can feel my heart jump just at your presence. I didn’t say anything because honestly, I thought this was another dream I was having, I had to pinch myself to make sure. But I do feel the same, possibly more than you ever will.” 

Your jaw might as well have been on the floor at his unexpected confession, frankly, yours was also something you didn’t think you were going to say, but you said it because you couldn’t keep it in you anymore.

“Hold on, what do you mean by another dream?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, deciding to mess around with him but in reality, you were soaring and your heart probably long leaped out of you in pure euphoria.

“Out of all that, you picked up on only that?!? Did you just- just completely dismiss the fact that I am in love with you as well?!”

Giggling at his expression, you couldn’t contain your happiness as he fell for your joke and once he realised that he glared at you half-heartedly,

“You think you’re so funny huh? Do you even know how hard it was for me to say that? I almost fainted for fucks sake!”

You laughed even more at that, having to hold your stomach with one hand as you leaned forward and at the sound of your laughter, his own smile he’d been trying to control showed as he rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head.

“You seriously know how to make a guy have a heart attack.” 

At this, you looked up at him stepping even closer as you bopped his nose,

“But you literally just confessed to being in love with me and you can’t take back what you said now.”

A comical squeak arose from you as he wrapped his arms around your waist out of nowhere pulling you closer, gently moving your injured hand on his shoulder to make sure you didn’t get hurt and you moved your other one around his neck.

It wasn’t like he’d never touched you, but still, the spark of electricity shooting through your entire body didn’t change one bit and it felt the same for him as the warmth radiating from you seemed to engulf him as well.

Staring at him, your eyes trailed to his lips and you moved closer, wanting to just,

Before you could even close the distance, you felt a finger on your lips and heard him whisper to you,

“No, no, you can’t kiss me right now, as much as I want to, you first need to let this heal.” He tenderly poked the right corner of your lip where you’d forgotten you were hurt at the moment.

Pouting slightly at that, Minho chuckled and before you could whine, he swiftly leaned forward and pecked your lips, lingering for a second before pulling back,

“That’s all you get, for now.” Sighing you just nodded, knowing it was for the best.

“You know you still have to make up to me for ignoring me for two weeks, I mean not only me but I’m sure Kitty’s ready to kick your ass as well, I heard she was planning to threaten to burn  your giraffe socks if you didn’t talk to her.”

Suddenly a realisation hit you when you remembered something,

“IS THAT WHY I CAN’T FIND THEM SINCE THE PAST TWO DAYS?!?”

“...I suppose she’s already executed her plan.”

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

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[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[sinsmockingbird]

GOOD LUCK, BABE | Zoya

PAIRING: College!AU!Zoya x College!AU!Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, Angst, NSFW, Dom!Character, Sub!Reader, College!AU, Bad Girl!Zoya, Little Miss Perfect!Reader, Trans!Zoya, Zoya has a penis, Heavy Cheating, Reader is cheating on their boyfriend with Zoya, Jealousy, Hate Fucking, Fingering, Alludes to Unprotected Sex.

CREDITS: Credit to @sea-lanterns for making the banner

AUTHORS NOTE: Probably the longest fic I've ever written. I actually decided to change the ending to something else last minute, as I realized the original could be triggering. Instead, enjoy a very very sad (slightly rushed) ending.

YOUR AN epitome of perfection in the eyes of many.

From the students at the college you attend, to the professors and school staff, you were a woman who could do no wrong. You were the student council president of your prestigious college, the captain of the women's soccer team, and the school's debate team leader. You were involved in everything at your school, from the events being held to the various clubs and societies. You knew everyone and everyone knew you.

At least, everyone thought they knew you. But who could ever imagine that little miss perfect had chosen the college’s bad girl and the drummer of a band, as the person she would start an affair with?

◃───────────▹

It was late at night, about 1 in the morning. You were laying back in your bed, disheveled and trying to catch your breath while Zoya collapsed beside you, who was equally disheveled and out of breath. You weren’t sure how long you both had been going at it, but it was long enough for you to feel too sore to move.

“Too much?” Zoya’s voice cut through the air, a soft chuckle falling from her lips as she moved onto her side and wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. You looked gorgeous in her eyes with that post orgasm glow to you.

You laughed softly at her question, pressing your body close to hers. “No. It was perfect.”

It was always perfect with Zoya. Whether you were having a quickie, a rough fucking, or even love making, it was always perfect. She just did everything right, and it was only made better with how well she’s learned your body.

“Good.” Zoya hummed in content, relaxing against your bed while holding you close. It was these moments she loved the most where it was just the two of you. No outside eyes, no knowledge of what you did known to others, just you and her in this relaxing silence.

“Are you coming to Chelsea’s party today?” You asked, tilting your head up to look at her, admiring every little detail of her face that you normally wouldn’t be able to.

“Mhm. Kinda have to.” Zoya answered, gazing down at you, the blue of her eyes more prominent in the soft darkness of your room. When you gave her a look, she quickly continued. “The band’s performing, at the request of Chelsea. So, yeah, I’m technically obligated to be there. Like you are.”

You simply hummed at her words, your eyes moving down to her chest. You raised a hand up, lightly tracing your fingers over the marks you had left over the hours of passion that you shared.

She was right about you being obligated to be at Chelsea’s party. She was not only one of your good friends but it was also the end of the year party, one of the biggest she hosts all year. Plus, you were miss perfect and popular, so everyone at school expected you to be there, and you being you wanting to maintain your image, always went.

Zoya watched you closely, recognizing when you were getting lost in your thoughts or contemplating something. So she gently placed one of her larger hands over yours, making your attention snap back to her. “You want me to take you?”

“No.” You quickly shook your head, your eyes looking away from her and into the darkness of your room. “Nate’s picking me up and we’re going together.”

Oh, she should have assumed that.

A frown quickly tugged at Zoya’s lips upon hearing your boyfriend’s name. You both had made rules between you both when your affair started, one of them being to never mention your boyfriend’s name. It was mainly because you didn’t want to think about him when you were with her, and Zoya hated to hear it as it was a cruel reminder that you weren’t hers. She hated him for that.

“Right.” Zoya mumbled, suddenly seeking sleep. She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling before forcing her eyes closed. She wanted the conversation to be over now, not wanting to be angry with you or anything. She could feel her jealousy boiling, making her seethe internally. “Should get sleep. We both have a busy day.”

“Zoya…” You whispered her name, looking up at her. But she didn’t respond, pretending to already be asleep. You sighed, feeling guilty now. So you just rested your head on her chest and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take you quickly.

◃───────────▹

Chelsea’s parties were huge and grand. She came from a family with wealth, meaning she had big money to spend when it came to the parties she hosted, but no party was as big as the end of the year parties, especially this one considering it was your guy’s last year, so it was a celebration of your year’s graduation.

Every student on campus was there, making the place packed. You stuck close to Nate, who was luckily a huge guy that was able to make room for the both of you. You guys were standing at a ping pong table with a group of your closest friends. You were cheering on Donald, Nate’s best friend, who was going up against some jock guy that you could never remember the name of.

But you weren’t actually paying attention to the match going on in front of you. You were too busy scouring the sea of party goers in search for the familiar face of the woman who has taken up the majority of your thoughts. You still hadn’t seen her, and it was making you a bit restless. You wouldn’t even be able to walk over and talk with her in fear of suspicion starting that something was going on between you both, but you just wanted to see her, even if for a split second.

“-Baby?” You let out a startled breath as Nate tilted your head up towards him, his eyebrows furrowed together when he realized you weren’t hearing him, too lost in your own thoughts of… Zoya, not that he knew that.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” Your face grew hot as your attention moved to him, embarrassed at how distracted you were.

“I was asking you how you were feeling about graduation coming up.” Nate stated, searching your face for several long seconds, as if he was trying to discern what could be possibly going on in that head of yours. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just- just thinking about mom coming tomorrow.” You quickly lied, plastering a smile on your face. You’ve learned how to fake a smile over the years.

Nate hummed your answer, believing that you were just thinking about and worrying about your mom coming tomorrow for your graduation. She was… an intense woman to say the least. She was the one always pushing you to be perfect, have great grades, and participate in more things than a person can handle. She always said it was to prepare you for the future and push you, but it only led you to stress over wanting to be a perfect daughter in her eyes.

“Don’t think about her. Focus on now, okay?” Nate whispered that more quietly to you, giving you a soft smile while squeezing your hand that he tightly held onto.

It was moments like these with him that made you feel awful, knowing that you fooled around with someone else behind his back.

Nate was an amazing guy, he really was. He excelled academically and was a prominent figure at your college that almost everyone looked up to, and was also the star football player that led the team to the championship on numerous occasions. He was also an amazing boyfriend, always picking you up from things, walking you to classes and even your dorm, no matter the time of day.

But he had a possessive nature, something you noticed as your relationship went on. He always had to be with you no matter what, going to your trainings, debates, and other events. You didn’t mind that he went with you to those things, but it was the fact it felt like he was preventing you from doing anything else that revolved around your college. He’d also push you to your limits when training for soccer, studying late into the night, and pushing you when it came to debates.

He was too much like your mother, and it hurt you every time you were reminded of that.

“And that’s another win!” Donald’s voice rang out over the cheers that followed, throwing the last plastic red cup aside and throwing his arms up in the air in celebration. Nate quickly looked to his best friend, congratulating him and patting him on the back and you smiled at him.

“Y/N!” Your attention was pulled away from the two males as Chelsea came running up to you, quickly grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Nate without even sparring him a glance. She never was a fan of him. “Come on, Serpent’s band is about to perform and I want you front and center beside me!”

“O-Okay-” You felt your face heat up at Chelsea’s words, stumbling behind her as she easily moved through the sea of people. You were gonna be front and center… in Zoya’s line of sight.

Chelsea was easily still clutching onto your hand as you made your way to the front of the small stage that was set up. The members of the band were already there, having finished setting up. Eleven was on the keyboard, focused on making sure it was right. Serpent was by the microphone, considering she was the lead singer, with her electric guitar ready, she immediately smiled brightly and waved at you and Chelsea. Bai Yi was by the drums, her bass ready as well, a smirk spreading across her face when she saw you, and you noticed her lean over the drum set.

Your heart was beating rapidly as Zoya perked up at whatever Bai Yi had said, her head immediately turning towards the gathered crowd, until they landed on you. You only gave her a small smile, one she returned, but you could tell she was holding herself back from waving at you. But she couldn’t do that, after all you both had to act like you didn’t really know each other. You couldn’t do anything that could make another person suspicious.

“Are you really just gonna give her a small smile?” Chelsea suddenly asked, leaning her mouth right by your ear and whispering so only you heard. It made you jump, immediately leaning away from her.

“Yes…” You muttered, giving Chelsea a warning look to not continue. She was one of the very select people that actually knew about you and Zoya’s affair. You had ended up telling her so you could have some cover for you for the times you’d steal moments with the woman.

Only Chelsea and Zoya’s bandmates knew, and you were going to keep it that way as long as you could.

Chelsea pouted slightly, giving you a look back that you couldn’t quite discern, before her attention was back on the stage as the music started. When the first song started, you were immediately enraptured by the music. You’ve heard Zoya’s band play before, and everytime you were blown away. At first you tried to focus on Serpent, or Eleven, or Bai Yi, trying to not look at the woman on the drums.

But eventually your eyes strayed to her. They always moved to Zoya like she was a magnet, screaming for your attention no matter where you were or what you were doing. She looked handsome sitting behind the drums, her hands moving up and down as played, finding her own rhythm in the song. Sometimes she’d twirl her drum sticks in her hands just to show off before continuing to play, and you could see a smile adorning her face as people in the crowd cheered.

Zoya never really admitted it, but she loved the attention, hearing fans singing along to their songs or cheering. She never felt more alive than on stage playing her drums with her band that had become her family. And it was only made better for her knowing you were in the crowd, in her direct line of sight. Her eyes almost never strayed away from yours when your attention was finally on her, and she was making it difficult for you to look away as her eyes just seemed to suck you in.

But every small moment like this had to be ruined.

Zoya felt her eye twitch and her lips flinched down into a frown as she watched Nate appear beside you, his arm quickly circling around your waist as he pulled you in close. Your attention was immediately off of her and onto him, a big smile spreading across your lips as you leaned up to kiss his cheek. She watched you laugh as he leaned down to whisper something into your ear, before kissing your head and turning his attention to the performance.

Gradually, Zoya began to hit the drums a lot harder as her anger and jealousy built up. She should have been the one to have an arm wrapped around you, be the one to place kisses on your head and face and have you smile up at her like you did with him. It was agony for her, a pain that grew every day, making the hole in her heart widen even more, a hole you caused because you’d never be able to fill your place in it.

As soon as the performance was done and Serpent thanked the crowd, Zoya was off the stage, her jaw clenched tight.

◃───────────▹

It had been an hour when you finally decided to leave the party, exhausted from the whole thing and having to put up a front the whole time. You convinced Nate you could walk back to your dorm on your own, considering it wasn’t too far down from the sorority houses. The walk was something you needed, the cold air feeling nice on your face. You felt relaxed, but also felt empty, an emptiness you couldn’t help but take notice of whenever you weren’t with Zoya.

Thinking of Zoya, you remembered how quickly she was off the stage after the performance ended, and it made you bite your lip. You wondered how hard you had screwed up and upset her, if you even were responsible for it (you were). You decided that once you were at your dorm, you’d make a plan to see her the next day and check in on her.

But it seemed Zoya had her own plans of seeing you earlier than that, as she was waiting for you in your dorm room when you entered.

“I thought you would have stayed a bit longer at the party.” Zoya stated, sitting at the chair at your desk, checking her nails and not even looking at you as you entered and shut the door, the sound of the lock turning echoing inside her head.

“I was planning to leave a little after your band’s performance.” You answered, biting your bottom lip as your eyes moved up and down her body, noting how she seemed a little too relaxed.

Zoya then stood up, her figure already towering over you as she walked towards you, and you tried to read her eyes to gauge how she was feeling. “You and Nate seemed to be having a lot of fun during it.”

You clenched your jaw at the name of your boyfriend, narrowing your eyes just slightly at her. “Isn’t one of our rules to not mention him?”

“Heh.” Zoya couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your reminder, briefly looking to the ground before placing a hand on your chest and gently, but firmly pushing you back against the wall, her lips grazing your ear. “Says the girl who mentioned him last night.”

With those words, Zoya slammed her lips against yours, silencing anything that you were about to say. You immediately melted into it, your arms wrapping around her neck before you pulled her closer, opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, something she was all too willing to allow.

Zoya pushed her tongue inside your mouth, exploring it like she always did while her hands landed on your hips, pushing you more firmly back against the wall. Then she was kicking your feet apart with her foot, before slotting one of her legs between yours. A moan immediately fell from yours lips as her knee pressed up against you.

“Zoya…” You whimpered, moaning a little more as she began to grind her knee against the area you wanted her most.

“That’s right, moan my name, baby.” Zoya growled, her lips moving down your jaw and to your neck, quickly kissing as much as she could and lightly nipping at your skin. She so badly wanted to leave a mark on you, but she knew she couldn’t, and it only annoyed her.

You did as she asked, continuing to moan her name and throw your head back, resting it back against the door as you focused on the feeling of her knee grinding up against you just right. Though it wasn’t enough, and you whimpered softly, one of your hands moved down to grab one of her’s. You brought it to the waistband of your pants, silently urging her to slip it past the barrier of clothing.

Zoya growled at the action, a sound that made you shiver and bit your lip. She sounded so primal, like a wolf about to devour its prey, and you were a willing victim to it as she slipped her hand by the waistband. You gasped as soon as her calloused fingers made contact with you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your spine.

“Fuck, your so wet.” Zoya mumbled, feeling you already slick like you had become wet the second you entered your dorm room and saw her, which was the case.

“All for you-!” You bit down on your bottom lip as she easily slipped two fingers inside you, making you feel full. “Yes, yes-!”

The sound of your moans and the slick sound emitting from your pussy as she fingered you was like music to Zoya’s ears, a song she was addicted to. Her thumb circled your clit, while her fingers continued to pump in and out, making you curse and arch your back, pushing yourself further into her. She wanted- no needed to hear more from you. She needed to hear you scream her name.

“Scream my name.” Zoya husks out, her breath hitching as she feels your walls tightening around her fingers. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

“S-So good, Z-Zoya!” You tried to speak, finding it harder as you neared your climax, your gut tightening making you whine a needy sound, a sound only she could make. “C-Cumming… p-please let me cum..!”

A tear rolls down your face as the pleasure builds up to a point it’s almost painful, and it makes Zoya’s smirk widen a bit more as she goes back to kissing your neck. She hums against your skin, her tempo increasing, leaving you more numb with pleasure. But she doesn’t say anything, simply focusing on pleasuring you.

Eventually you can’t hold back anymore, and cum around her fingers with a scream of her name, “Zoya!”

Your body arches into her’s, your head falling forward and onto her shoulder as the waves of pleasure leave your body weak and shaking. Zoya immediately supports you as you collapse against her body, her arm tightening around your waist and pulling you closer. She pulls her hand from your pants and brings them up to her mouth, quickly sucking your cum off them. The sight makes your pussy pulse, but you're too exhausted to act on it.

Zoya easily picks you up in her arms, carrying you over to your bed and gently laying you down. She moves to unwrap herself from you and pull away, only for you to grab her shirt to stop her, whispering, “Please stay, Zoya…”

Your words make her freeze, leading her to debate whether to stay or leave like she planned. But she looks down at your face, seeing you had already begun to fall asleep, your eyes closed. Then she can’t bring herself to leave your side, so with a heavy sigh, she climbs into your bed with you, quickly wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you against her.

Zoya gazes down at your now sleeping face, raising a hand up and gently brushing some hair away before caressing your face. You looked so beautiful and at peace, for once looking relaxing and content while being in her arms. You didn’t have to pretend around her, you were vulnerable and it made her feel special knowing you felt comfortable enough to not put up that front of yours that you had around everyone else.

She wished you could be like that not just behind closed doors with her. She wished she wouldn’t ruin your perfect image by holding your hand in public and kissing your cheek. If she had it her way she would do all of that with you, and maybe it was selfish considering she didn’t care about image. But you did, and she had to respect that openly being with her would ruin it.

For her, keeping your affair a secret was easy for her, but after so long, genuine feelings began to form and she found herself thinking about you every second of the day. She thought of your eyes, your smile, the sound of your laugh and the way you would chew on your bottom lip when you were focused. She noticed every little thing you did, and it was that knowledge that made her realize that you were more than just a person she slept around with.

She needed to tell you how she really felt, because the weight of knowing she had to keep this thing a secret was beginning to weigh heavily on her. She had to say something, because she yearned for the day when she didn’t have to conceal her feelings or hide her presence, or act like she didn’t know you when in reality she knew you better than anyone else.

Was it really too much to ask for?

◃───────────▹

Everytime Zoya tried to confess her feelings to you, something would happen or come up, leaving you to either leave or leave her too afraid to actually say anything. She never felt so weak or scared before until she was faced with a situation where she could finally tell you that she loved you. It went on for two more months, and your affair was still going and was still secret. Now graduation was upon you guys, happening the next day when Zoya received news that utterly tore her apart and left her feeling so cold and heartbroken.

“You didn’t know? Nate and Y/N are getting married.”

The words echoed in her head like a plague, leaving her wanting to claw at her skin and sink into herself and just break down. She found herself at a bar and hung out there late into the night, drinking down beer after beer all to try and numb the pain she was feeling. By 3 in the morning she wasn’t in a coherent state, her mind fogged with alcohol as she stumbled through campus. All that was on her mind was you, and it was why she found herself knocking loudly on your dorm room so late.

You opened the door, rubbing sleep out of your eyes, before they widened when you saw her standing on the other wide, reeking of alcohol, and weakly holding onto the door frame to keep herself up right. “Zoya-”

“When were you gonna tell me?” Her voice cut through you like a knife, leaving you frozen as she stared you down with anger and hurt swirling inside her eyes. You’d never seen her so… broken, and that’s how you knew that this was about.

“I’m sorry…” Was all you could say back in response as tears welled up in your eyes, your hands beginning to shake along with your whole body.

“Engaged?” Zoya stated, looking at you with pure hurt as she leaned slightly towards you. “You didn’t tell me…”

You remembered when Nate had proposed to you a couple days ago. It was when you were at dinner with both of your families, celebrating the final debate you participated in. Suddenly Nate had dropped down onto one knee in front of you, holding out a ring and asking the words, “Will you marry me?”

How were you supposed to say no when you felt everyone’s eyes on you, when you felt your mother’s eyes on you. The weight of maintaining the image of the perfect daughter, the expectations, and the pressure of the entire situation weighed heavily on your shoulders, leading you to saying yes.

You didn’t keep it a secret that you were engaged to him now. You were planning to tell Zoya, you really were, but you had been so busy that week that you weren’t able to find time to meet with her. But you didn’t want her to find out this way, because it now leads Zoya to your dorm room, alcohol heavy on her and intoxication clear in her glassy eyes.

“I did everything you wanted!” Zoya suddenly yelled, her voice cracking in anger and pain. “I followed your stupid rules, your demands. I stayed away from you when you asked me to just to keep our-” She stopped, letting out a laugh and looking away with a shake of her head, stopping herself from uttering the word “relationship.”

As far as Zoya knew, you weren’t even a couple, just two people who fucked.

You had your head hung low, staring at the ground while Zoya entered your dorm, beginning to pace back and forth while you quietly shut the door. She was muttering some things to herself, tugging at her hair before suddenly punching the wall. The hit made you jump and squeeze your eyes shut, tears falling freely down your face.

Zoya’s anger was justified, which is why you didn’t stop her as her fist collided with the wall until there was a hole. You wanted to stop her, in fear of her hurting herself, but you just couldn’t. All you could do was stand there in your guilt.

“Y-You know. I played along… to have you.” Zoya whimpered out, leaning her head against the wall, tears welling up in her eyes as her anger was quenched for now. Her hand ached, shaking in pain at her side, her knuckles split open and bleeding, but she paid no attention to it.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, her confession cutting into your heart like a knife, leaving you shaking uncontrollably, tears falling rapidly down your face. The guilt was prominent inside your body, eating away at you.

“I just wanted you to be mine.” Zoya whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she turned towards you slowly. “I love you.”

There it is, those three words that held so much pointless weight in the end. It left you gasping for air between your sobs, your head snapping up to Zoya and staring at her with wide eyes. You always hoped to hear her say them, but you knew you shouldn’t have, knowing it wouldn’t make you change the secrecy of your affair. In the end it wouldn’t change anything, just like how it won’t change anything now.

Zoya then approached you, and with every step she took, you took a step to retreat, until your back hit the wall and she was quick to cage you in between her arms. “But you were never mine to begin with.” She gives you a sad smile, finally coming to terms with that fact. The engagement ring on your finger was proof of it, after all. “Now I have to live with that fact…”

You looked away from her, wrapping your arms around yourself in a protective manner, while trying to make yourself look small. Zoya raised a hand up, gently dragging your chin and tilting your head up until you had no choice but to look at her. She was crying, just like you, and the knowledge of knowing that you were the reason behind her tears made you whimper.

When your attention was on her, she grabbed your one hand and slipped your engagement ring off of your finger, examining it. “Engaged…” She whispered softly, finally letting that fact register in her head.

Then Zoya dropped the ring, letting it fall to the ground, and before you could process it, her lips were on yours. Her lips were soft, feeling familiar and bringing a warmth to your chest that you knew you didn’t deserve. You kissed one another like you were the only reason for each other breathing. You kissed her like this was the end… because it was.

One final night with one another couldn’t hurt, right? Just a night to say goodbye.

Finding yourself back on your bed, naked with Zoya on top of you left you feeling numb with pain. Your mind was only filled with her. The feeling of her body against yours, her lips on your neck, while her hips moved against yours. It was the same like all those other nights you both spent together, except it was different because this was the end.

When you both reached your peak, with Zoya releasing inside you, you felt complete for the first time in your life, but that feeling wasn’t going to last after this. Zoya had her head resting on your chest, listening to the sound of your gradually calming heartbeat, her arms circled around your waist. Your hands moved through her hair as you stared up at the ceiling of your dorm, tears rolling down your face.

You eventually fell asleep, and once you were, Zoya forced herself out of your bed. She grabbed her clothes and slowly got dressed, running a hand through her hair before looking back at your sleeping form. Her feet moved on her own as she crouched down beside your bed, reaching a hand out to tuck some hair behind your ear, before leaning forward and placing one final kiss onto your lips, murmuring a few final words before getting up and leaving, never looking back.

“Good luck, babe.”

ENDING NOTES: So, one question. Part 2?

[wzrd-wheezes]

The Engagement Arrangement - Sirius Black x Reader/James Potter x Reader.

Hey!!! Can I request an arranged engagement with James because they grew up in wealthy families and they're close friends but as she gets to know the boys better Sirius falls in love with her? Mutual pining with obstacles with be the death of me.

AN: after actual months of writing this fic, it's finally finished. I posted the first part of it months ago but decided to finish the fic and repost it as a complete work. i'm so fucking proud of this and i really hope you enjoy it. this is the longest thing i've ever written so please please please give it a reblog and let me know what you think. ily <3

Contains: some angst, a lot of fluff, pining, swearing and just general good times haha. enjoy!

9k words

The engine of the car hummed quietly causing the window to vibrate as Y/N rested her head against the glass. She fiddled with the hem of her dress as she gazed out of the window, the trees a blur of red and orange as they whizzed past. 

“Will you stop fiddling with your dress!” Y/N’s mother snapped, whipping her head around to glare at her daughter, “I won’t have you at the Potter’s house with your dress all creased, what will they think of us!?” 

Y/N only murmured in response, barely paying attention to her mother’s nagging as she smoothed her dress out. The car pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway outside of the Potter’s manor. The autumn sunlight beat down on the vast lawns and bounced off of the ornate windows, casting patterns on the driveway. She sighed as she got out of the car, mentally preparing herself for the afternoon at the Potter’s.  

Coming to the Potter’s house for lunch wasn’t a frequent occurrence, yet every time their car pulled up outside, Y/N filled with dread. The lunches were alarmingly boring with her parents talking tirelessly with Mr and Mrs Potter. The Potter’s had a son, who Y/N was yet to meet as he attended a boarding school. Y/N’s mother had explained to her that James had been sent to boarding school as he was rather unruly, and they were trying to get him to settle down. However, now that he, like Y/N was 18, had finished school and returned home. 

Mrs Potter greeted them graciously at the front door, giving her parents a hug and Y/N a squeeze on the shoulder. She led them into the sitting room and began to bustle around making tea. Y/N perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to avoid crumpling her dress and infuriating her mother again. Just as she had done in the car, Y/N stared out of the window, her eyes drifting over the garden that seemed to sprawl for miles. Leaves floated down from the trees, landing in a pile on the floor before being dispersed by the soft breeze.  

“Nice of you to finally join us, Son.” Mr Potter spoke, easy smile resting on his face. Y/N was pulled out of her daydream, her eyes darting towards the door where a young man was standing, leaning lazily against the door frame. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, the top button of his shirt undone and his dark curls falling messily into his eyes. 

“Mr and Mrs L/N.” he nodded, “Nice to see you both again.” 

“Ah, James.” Y/N’s father exclaimed, “It’s been a while! You must have grown a good few feet taller since we last saw you.” 

“My career as a dwarf never really took off so I decided to just let it go.” James joked, earning himself a disapproving look from both of his parents. 

“James,” Y/N’s mother swiftly interjected, “You haven’t met our daughter, Y/N. She’s just finished school as well. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.” 

“Nice to meet you,” James grinned, stepping into the room and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say. Her mother harshly nudged her leg, urging her to reply. 

“Yeah. You as well.” 

James plonked himself in the armchair in front of the window that Y/N was previously looking out of. She frowned slightly, annoyed that he was obstructing not only the view but also the distraction from the torturously boring conversation that their parents were having. The two teenagers sat silently, every so often glancing up at each other. One time, James rolled his eyes and mimed putting a gun to his head, Y/N had to try her best to stifle a laugh. Clearly, she didn’t try hard enough as she was shot another one of her mother’s infamous disapproving looks. 

“James, dear, why don’t you go and show Y/N around the gardens while we talk? We have some important business to discuss, and it will be terribly boring for you both.” James’ mother suggested. Y/N let out a sigh of relief and eagerly stood up, grabbing her jacket from the coat stand. 

For the first few moments, they didn’t speak a word to each other, just silently making their way through the hall towards the large front door, buttoning up their coats as they walked. It was only when they were out of earshot that James finally spoke. 

“I didn’t think it was possible to die of boredom, but I genuinely think I was close.” He said dramatically.  

“We were only sat in there for half an hour.” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.  

“Yet it felt like an eternity.” 

James pushed open the front door and they were greeted by the crisp autumn air. Their breaths clouded in the chill, damp air and they both wrapped their coats a little tighter around themselves.  

“What d’you reckon they’re talking about?” Y/N asked, “What’s so important that we can’t be there to hear them discuss it?” James shrugged, staring up at the cloudless sky. 

“Who knows? Probably just boring adult stuff. I tend to just tune it out whenever they start speaking.” Despite his nonchalant response, there was a hint of wistfulness in his expression. It was almost as if the thought of having a genuine adult conversation with his parents seemed utterly foreign and unappealing to him. 

“They’re probably just sat moaning about us.” Y/N laughed, “That’s what adults do when they get together, isn’t it? Moan about their children?” 

“Nah, not my mum and dad. They genuinely think the sun shines out of my arse.” James chuckled. 

“Didn’t they ship you off to boarding school because you were too ‘unruly’” Y/N said, making air quotes with her fingers. James’ cheeks flushed at her comment and he let out an awkward chuckle. 

“Yeah, that was a bit of an exaggeration on mum and dad’s behalf. They made it sound like I was some feral child. In reality, I was just a normal kid who liked to have fun.” 

Y/N felt a bit guilty for poking fun at him about the boarding school ordeal. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, despite how flippantly he brushed it off. 

“They didn’t have to be so dramatic,” James continued, “But it’s all in the past now. I’m back home and everything’s fine,” He shrugged, the smile returning to his face. Y/N wasn’t quite so sure how accurate that statement one. 

They chatted as they walked through the gardens, comparing their school experiences, talking about their upbringings and their parents. Y/N felt sad that James had been away for the majority of their childhood, it would have made the many dinners with their parents a lot less painful if she had had someone her own age there to speak to.  

 The more time that Y/N spent in James’s company, the more she realised just how much they had in common. They had similar senses of humour, enjoyed engaging in sarcastic banter and had a mutual disdain for the social niceties that dominated their families’ get-together. For his part, James enjoyed speaking with Y/N as well. Unlike with the adults in his life, he didn’t have to keep up an exhausting façade. He could be frank with her and didn’t have to worry about offending her with his snarky wit. 

The conversation turned back to the topic of their schooling. Y/N described her school life and her friends, while James told stories of pranking students and teacher alike, and generally being a nuisance. James had a twinkle in his eye as he recounted some of his more mischievous antics. It was clear that he had no regrets and was, in fact, quite proud of all the trouble he had gotten into over the years.  

“I’m pretty sure I was on my last chance before they got rid of me,” he admitted as they walked back to the house, “In our final year, my friends and I were planning to pull a big stunt during exam week, it would have definitely gotten us kicked out. Only, my friend Peter ended up talking us out of it in the end. Probably for the best.” As he finished speaking a hint of regret crossed his face. 

When they finally returned to the house, having been gone a good hour or so, they found their parents still sat in the same spot they were in before they had left. It looked as though time had stood still while they were outside. 

“Ah, there you two are! We were just about to send someone out to find you! We really need to talk to you both, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down for a moment.” Mrs Potter smiled. James sighed inwardly and shot Y/N an apologetic look. Just when he had been enjoying himself, their parents’ demands had sent him back to reality.  

“We’ve been discussing the future,” Y/N’s father began, “And now you have both finished school we believe it’s time to start making preparations for the future.”  

Y/N and James both leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued by what their parents had to say. James let out a nervous chuckle, not sure what Y/N’s father meant by that.  

“Preparations for the future?” he repeated, turning to look at his own father, “What do you mean? Like, getting involved in the family business or something?” 

“Not particularly.” James’s father said. 

“You’re both intelligent, young individuals with bright futures ahead of you. The pair of you both come from good families, and we think it’s time that the two of you started settling down.” Y/N’s mother explained. 

Both Y/N and James sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to try and figure out exactly what their parents were talking about.  

“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” James asked, not wanting to believe it, “You’re seriously suggesting that at the ripe old age of 18, we get married to each other?” The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully formed the thought. 

“That’s ridiculous!” Y/N exclaimed, “You can’t just arrange our romance like we’re some sort of commodity. That’s absurd!”  The notion of being forced into a relationship with James with utterly foreign to her, especially since they had only met mere hours ago. Mrs Potter looked at them both with a stern expression. 

“This isn’t something that we’ve considered lightly.” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument, “We believe that the two of you will make a wonderful couple, and with time may even grow to love each other.” 

“There is much more than that to our proposal,” James’s father said solemnly, “It’s not just about romance. In this particular case, settling down is more about stability.” 

James and Y/N just stared at each other, feeling the full weight of their parents’ decision bearing down on their shoulders.  

“But what about what we want?” James snapped, gesturing to the two of them. 

“At the end of the day, this isn’t about what you want.” Mr Potter shook his head, “This is about your families and their futures, not just your own selfish desires.” 

The statement hit both of them hard, and for a moment, the two teenagers were completely stunned. Their own family was more important than their own happiness, their own dreams. The harsh reality of their situation slowly began to sink in, and the weight out the responsibility felt nearly too heavy for them to bear. 

James paced back and forth across his spacious bedroom, seemingly unable to settle in one place. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to wrestle with the situation that they had been forced into. Y/N was watching him, lounged on the edge of his bed with a mug of tea in her hand. 

It had been a few days since their parents had broken the news to them and they had since decided that it would be a good idea for Y/N to move in with the Potter’s. It was as if her parents couldn’t wait to get her out quick enough and had all of her things boxed up in a matter of hours. 

“What do you think of all this?” he finally asked, stopping in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Are you joking?” she scoffed, “You have to be joking. ‘Settling down’. Are you serious?” She sat so that she was upright, putting her mug down on the bedside table.  

“Are our parents mad? Have they actually lost it? Who proposes something like that to teenagers these days?” She could barely hide her incredulity. 

James sighed, feeling like his head was going to explode from a sudden rush of confusion and emotions. It felt so surreal, like this was some kind of elaborate joke that their parents were just waiting to reveal the punchline of.  

“I mean, you seem great and all and sure, we get along well enough, but is that really a solid basis for deciding to spend the rest of our lives together?” He raked a hand through his unruly hair. In his mind, there was no possible way they could make this situation work. 

“If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it would be hilariously tragic,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to ease the onset of a headache. 

“My friends are supposed to be visiting for a few weeks.” James said, sitting down on his bed, “I suppose they’ll make me cancel now you’re here. Y’know, with them wanting us to spend time together and all.” 

Y/N shook her head, feeling a surge of sympathy for James. He’d mentioned earlier how much he was looking forward to seeing his friends again and she couldn’t help but imagine how disappointed he would be if he had to cancel on them.  

“That’s a pain.” she said, “If it was up to me, I’d leave you alone to do whatever you like. I mean, fuck it, why not just let them come over anyway? If we’re getting married then I’m going to have to meet your friends eventually.” a sort of half-smile crossed her face as she looked at James. 

“Really?” he asked, turning to face her, “You wouldn’t mind if they still came over?” 

“Not at all!” 

“Wicked.” James grinned, “I’ll have to try and convince mum now.” 

Somehow, James managed to convince his mother to allow his friends to stay and they arrived a few days later. w fresh faces around. The two boys bounded down the driveway and tackled James into a somewhat clumsy hug, lanky adolescent limbs all over the place. James laughed and greeted his friends fondly.  

“So, this is the future wife then?” one of James��s friends grinned as he introduced them, “I’m Sirius. Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry that you have to marry this prat.” 

“Not as sorry as I am.” Y/N mused. Sirius was just as tall as James but had a slightly more slender build. His dark hair falling straight down to his jawline, unlike James’s messy curls.   

“It’s a rough deal, I’ll admit.” The other one said. He was taller than both James and Sirius and awkwardly held a hand out for Y/N to shake as he introduced himself, “I’m Remus, by the way.” 

“Thanks for the condolences.” she laughed, “I’m Y/N.” 

James seemed to loosen up a bit now that his friends were here. Y/N had barely seen him smile the last few days. He’d spent the majority of his time moping around the house trying to come up with a plan to get them both out of this mess. 

They decided to go and explore the surrounding countryside, the boys were keen to show Y/N the places that they had gone when they were growing up. James had said he felt too cooped up in the house, like they were constantly being watched by his parents and was eager to get out.  

They meandered around the grounds of Potter Manor, the boys occasionally sharing anecdotes about the summers that they used to spend at the Potter’s. Sirius pointed out the tree that James fell from when he broke his arm when he they were 12. The boys all looked at it fondly like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.   

Sirius and Remus, much like James, were charming and playful and Y/N was pleased with how well they managed to mesh with her sense of humour. She realised, over the course of the afternoon, that Sirius had a particular way of speaking that made her heart flutter. There was something about it, deep, silky and rich like melted chocolate. A certain kind of gentleness to the way his voice carried that felt like he could make whoever he was speaking to feel as if they were the centre of his attention.  Y/N felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she tried to push the thoughts of Sirius from her mind.   

As the sunlight began to fade into the afternoon sky, the group made their way back to the manor. Y/N knew that they would soon be sitting down for dinner, but she wasn’t quite ready for their afternoon to be over quite yet. She had gotten to know the boys better and was having fun hearing the stories of their school days. The idea of going back to an awkward dinner with James’s parents was unsettling. 

Dinner was a bit of a bust; James’s parents were once again preaching the joys of settling down young and the importance of family and tradition. James seemed to be trying his best to get through the meal without any trouble, occasionally shooting an apologetic look at Y/N. Sirius and Remus sat awkwardly opposite them, doing their best to dodge the Potter’s invasive questions about when they themselves would get married. 

Every so often, Sirius would nudge Y/N’s foot with his own under the table. It first started when Mrs Potter made a comment about wedding dresses, but as dinner went on, it became more and more frequent. He would tap his foot against hers, then when she would look up at him he would pull a face or wink at her. She tried her best to focus her attention on the food in front of her, but it was hard not to be distracted by Sirius’s constant prodding under the table. The gesture felt flirty, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t help but look back at him every time they made contact.  

The first time that Y/N and Sirius were alone together was a few nights later when Y/N got up in the middle of night to get a drink. She was restless and unable to sleep, still not used to the unfamiliar house that she was now living in.   

Sirius was already in the kitchen when she got in there, hoisted up on the kitchen counter, dimly lit from the small stream of moonlight that shone in from outside. 

“Mrs Potter will kill you if she sees you sitting up there.” Y/N whispered. Sirius snapped his head round to look at her, clearly not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“Let her try.” he said, not seeming too worried about the potential consequences of his behaviour. He stayed put on the counter, looking down at Y/N with a mischievous grin.   

“On your head be it.” she shrugged, grinning at him, “What are you doing up so late anyway?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shifted his legs so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the counter, “What about you? Doing a bit of late-night wedding planning? 

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. She had spent so much time over the last few days trying to resist his playful flirting, but he was making it increasingly difficult. With every smile and joke, she felt herself warming up to him. 

“Oh, of course,” she scoffed, “I was just about to draw up the first draft of our wedding invitation.” 

“Well, if you need a hand writing them out then I’ll have you know that I have lovely penmanship.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Y/N said, “But I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far.” 

“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked gently, his face becoming more sombre. 

“I mean, James is lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to marry him, and he doesn’t want to marry me.” 

Sirius just nodded, for once in his life at a loss for what to say. Y/N crossed the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She pulled herself up onto the other counter, opposite Sirius. 

“Y’know, I nearly ended up marrying my own cousin once,” He said bluntly. Y/N spluttered, nearly spitting her drink out. “You think yours and James’s families are mental? You should try meeting mine.” 

Wait, what?” she asked, looking at him in disbelief.  

“Yep. Old fashioned family traditions. Similar situation to you and James. They wanted me to settle down and get married and move out of the family home.” he said, “Guess that’s one thing we have in common then. Our fucked up families.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Sirius’s crassness, but she felt a sense of validation knowing that someone else knew exactly what she was going through. 

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she said with a small smile, “So, what happened? How did you get out of the marriage?”  

“I ran away. Came to live with the Potter’s for a few weeks until school started again. I didn’t tell them exactly why of course. James and Remus knew and obviously thought it was hilarious.” his smile quickly faltered, “Haven’t seen my parents since.” 

“Well, I’m glad you escaped.” Y/N said softly. She could see that the situation with his parents was still very raw and painful for him, as much as he tried to brush it off. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

They stayed in the kitchen chatting for hours. Y/N told Sirius about her childhood and her school years and he exchanged stories about his childhood before he ran away. They only realised how much time had passed when a small chink of sunlight streamed through the window.  

“Shit. I didn’t realise the time.” Y/N gasped, hastily standing up. 

“Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?” Sirius grinned, he slid off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her, “I’ll see you in a bit.” 

His comment made her face flush and she hoped that he hadn’t noticed it in the dim early morning light. She quickly composed herself and nodded at Sirius. 

“See you,” she said, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

Y/N and James seldom spent any time alone together with Sirius and Remus staying at the Potters. Secretly, she was grateful, it was nice to have a bit of a buffer between her and James sometimes, his two friends seemed to make the whole ordeal a lot less awkward.   

“Are you busy?” James asked, suddenly appearing at her side in the kitchen the next morning. She hadn’t even heard him walk over. His voice caught her off-guard, and she jumped slightly, turning back to face him. 

“No, why? Is everything okay?”  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” he said quickly, “Everything is fine. I just wanted to...talk. To you.” James’s tone was more solemn than normal, his thick, dark eyebrows knitted together seriously. 

A long moment of silence passed between them before Y/N eventually nodded and followed James. He led her upstairs towards his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. He gestured for Y/N to take a seat but remained standing himself. Her eyes widened in anticipation as he took a deep breath.  

“I’m not really sure what the best way to tell you this is so I’m just going to come out and say it.” he began, “I overheard mum and dad speaking last night and well... they’ve set a date for the wedding.” 

Y/N felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She had been enjoying the lull in the situation and felt like she had momentarily forgotten that anything had been wrong. James’s words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling completely stunned.  

“W-what? When?” 

“Next month.” James said with a pained expression, “It’s fast, but it seems like it’s the only way to satisfy our parents. They’ve set a date, so... I guess it’s happening.” 

He crossed the room to sit next to Y/N on the bed. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. Y/N looked down at their intertwined fingers, it was the first time that they had ever really touched each other. She was suddenly painfully aware of how close James’s body was to hers. They were sitting side by side, their legs touching and their hands together. A wave of heat washed over her, and she forced herself to meet James’s gaze.   

James, for his part, was trying very hard to keep his emotions in check as well. He grabbed Y/N’s hand without really thinking about what he was doing, in his head it just felt like it was the right thing to do. He held her gaze for a moment before finally speaking again. 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. Y/N nodded slowly, unable to look away from him. She looked down at their hands again, her lips parted slightly as she searched her head for words.  

“I don’t know...” she finally said, “I don’t know how to feel.” 

“I understand.” he nodded in acknowledgment, “This isn’t what either of us wanted.” He paused for a moment, releasing her hand from his and raking his fingers through his curls.  

“I know the situation is shit and I know that we haven’t spent a lot of time together.” he continued, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I mean, like... as a person. I don’t know, maybe if we got to know each other a little better it’ll all be okay.” 

Y/N was taken aback by the way that James spoke so openly and honestly about his feelings. He didn’t sound like the angry person he was the first time they spoke about their marriage. This side of him was entirely different and she liked it. Despite everything that was going on, she felt strangely comforted by the way he was speaking so candidly. 

“I feel the same way. I suppose we don’t really have another option, do we?” said smiled sadly, “I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m sure we can get through this together.”  

“We can always divorce, eh?” James chuckled. Y/N let out a laugh, caught off guard by the way James quickly slipped back into his normal jovial self. 

Over the next few days, Y/N spent most of her time avoiding James’s parents, in hopes that if they put off seeing them for long enough, they might just forget about the wedding all together. The four of them would try and spend as much of the day as they could outside of the house, often wandering down into the town or to the pub. Y/N’s late night conversations with Sirius had become a staple of her stay with the Potter’s and she found herself looking forward to their nightly rituals more over the next few days. She had quickly got used to sneaking down to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Their conversations had become increasingly more intimate, though for some reason, she still hadn’t broken the news to him about the date of the wedding.  

That night, she met up with Sirius after everyone else had gone to bed, slipping out of her room and making her way down to the kitchen. The house was silent and still, and she felt a rush of excitement as she laid her eyes on Sirius, him staring back at her with a wide grin.  

“I was wondering when you’d be joining me.” Sirius said calmly. Y/N returned the smile, taking a seat on the counter. Though, tonight, she strayed from her usual spot on the opposite side of the kitchen and sat next time him. 

“You’re quite predictable, you know?” she teased, “the last three nights you’ve been in the kitchen, maybe you ought to start changing it up a little.”  

She adjusted her position on the counter, trying to make herself more comfortable. Sirius smiled back playfully and for a moment, they just sat in companionable silence. Just as it had happened earlier with James, Y/N noticed the way that Sirius’s knee was touching hers. Although, this time she didn’t feel the need to yank it away, she just let it rest against hers.  

“James told me the news.” Sirius stated, “It’s shit.” 

“Yep.” Y/N laughed at his bluntness, “In less than a month I’ll be a married woman.” 

“You don’t like him very much, do you?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like him – I think any girl would be lucky to have him. I mean, he’s lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off. 

“You just don’t like him like that.” Sirius finished for her.  

Y/N hummed in response, her eyes trailing down to where their knees were touching and then back up to Sirius’s eyes. He was looking straight back at her, as if his eyes were searching hers for exactly how she was feeling. The moment felt charged, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. She knew he was waiting for her to say something and she was quickly overcome by a wave of self-consciousness that left her unable to speak.  

After what felt like an eternity, Sirius’s hand inched its way over until it was hovering over her knee. Slowly, but surely, his fingers placed themselves over her own.  The heat between their two bodies was almost unbearable. She could feel her heart racing and she was almost certain that if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear it. Her fingers instinctively tightened around his. 

“I just really don’t know what to do.” she found her voice after a moment, looking up at him.  

Once again, his eyes locked with hers for a moment before they fluttered shut, his body angling towards hers, head tipped down and his lips brushing against her own. Instinctively, his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb stroking across the softness of her cheek. After a moment, she pulled away, her focus on his lips for a fleeting moment before forcing herself to look away. She felt like she had just been electrocuted, feeling dizzy with the rush of emotions. Sirius, for a few moments, looked like he was too stunned to speak. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and quickly drew his away. 

“I should go.” he said, sliding down from the counter. He barely looked at her before swiftly making his way out of the kitchen. Y/N didn’t move, just stared after him as he left, her hands stayed where they were on the counter, her fingertips still tingling from Sirius’s touch. 

They managed to avoid each other for the rest of the week, their brief moment of intimacy being pushed to the back of both of their minds. Y/N was doing her best to avoid thinking about Sirius, and Sirius was trying his best to avoid thinking about Y/N.  

James had spent an awful lot of time by her side over the last few days, and while she appreciated the distraction, every time James spoke to her she got a horrible sick feeling in her stomach. She felt like her heart was being ripped into two, feeling torn between her attraction to Sirius and her engagement to James. 

You’ve seemed off the last few days, is everything alright?” James asked one afternoon as they were sat together in the living room. Y/N looked up from the book that was resting on her lap. 

“I’m fine.” she said, “How come you haven’t gone out with the others?”  

“Remus wanted to go to the pub and I didn’t fancy it.” he shrugged.  

“You’re not just staying here for me, are you?”  

“No.” James laughed, “Not just staying here for you, no. But I would like to be spending time with you.” 

Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked back down at her book, trying to avoid James’s gaze.  

“I’ll be spending a lot of time with you for the rest of my life. Might as well start getting used to it.” he grinned.  

“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” James asked after a few moments of silence. 

“Go ahead.” 

“I was just wondering, if we hadn’t been forced into this whole engagement thing, how do you think you would feel about me?” 

Y/N froze, uncertain of what she should say. She wanted to be honest with him but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Her mind flicked back to the conversation she had had with Sirius and the kiss they had shared. 

“I...” she started hesitantly, her eyes still avoiding James, “It’s hard, isn’t it? Maybe if we had met in another situation it would be different but...” 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” James said, his voice gentle, “I know that none of this was how it was supposed to happen and I know that there are a lot of things about this situation that you don't like, but I think that we could still be happy together.” 

She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the guilt that suddenly washed over her. Even if they had met under different circumstances, she still wasn’t entirely sure that things would have worked out between them. She just didn’t see James like that. She had tried to ignore it at first, but to her, it just felt like it was a fact that there was no romantic tension between them. But, to say that would be heartbreaking, so instead, she just stayed silent. 

“Y’know, Sirius said I’m mad.” James sighed and Y/N looked at him quizzically, “He thinks I’m daft for trying to find a way out of this marriage. Said I’d be lucky to have a girl as good as you.” 

“He did?” 

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great.” James moved to look at her properly, taking the book from her lap, closing it and placing it on the table so that she was forced to give him her full attention.  

Y/N immediately felt nervous as she met James’s gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, feeling even more vulnerable no that there was no escape. She was forced to look directly at James with no distractions. 

“He’s right as well. Although, don’t tell him I said that because the smug bastard would never let me live it down.” James chuckled. He moved his hand to cup her chin, shifting her face to look at him, “You are great. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re gorgeous. I mean, if the circumstances were different then I feel like-” 

“James, don’t-” 

Before she could finish her sentence, James had leaned forward, his lips colliding with hers. Y/N let out a gasp of surprise. She felt his hand tangling into her hair, the other moving down to her waist. It was like she was stuck, just sat there, allowing James to kiss her. Her body was completely overtaken by confusion.  

“What the fuck.” a voice spoke. 

Both of their heads snapped around to the doorway. Sirius was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, Remus at his side. Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Y/N quickly pulled away from James, sinking back into her seat. 

“Ah, so this is what you two get up to when we’re not around.” Remus grinned, “No wonder you didn’t want to come to the pub with us.” 

James’s face flushed red and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, smiling nervously. A hot wave of embarrassment flushed over Y/N and her eyes frantically flicked between James and Sirius. Sirius’s expression didn’t change, and for the first time, she noticed a certain edge to his stare. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything at all, but he kept his eyes locked on her. 

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry with herself for letting the kiss happen or embarrassed at the fact that they had been caught. She looked back over to Sirius, his jaw was clenched and any trace of the usual playfulness in his eyes had gone. Without saying anything, Sirius walked away and they heard the faint slamming of his bedroom door.  

“What’s his problem?” James asked.  

“Dunno,” Remus shrugged, “He’s had a few pints. You know what he gets like.” 

That night, Sirius didn’t show at their usual meeting place in the kitchen. Y/N sat and waited patiently, hoping that he would turn up so that she could explain herself to him. She wanted to tell him that it was James that kissed her, that it meant absolutely nothing to her. Her heart sank as the morning light started to stream into the kitchen and she realised that Sirius wasn’t coming.  

For days, the only time that Y/N would see Sirius was when they ran into each other at the table during meals or on the stairs. Sirius avoided her eyes when they passed each other, not even giving her a chance to speak to her before disappearing. She didn’t know what to do. She kept trying to catch his eye whenever she saw him, willing him to look at her, wanting to explain everything. But, every time, she felt as though her words would be meaningless.  

She didn’t even want to see James now. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she would avoid him and go out of her way to prevent being alone with him. It wasn’t James’s fault, and deep-down Y/N knew that.  

One night, as Y/N was on her way upstairs to bed, she ran into Sirius. He was on his way out, taking his coat off the hook in the hallway when she suddenly caught a glimpse of him. She tensed up as he looked at her, scared of what he was going to say, but all he seemed to do was stare, that same cold expression that he wore when he saw her and James kiss.  

Before she could say anything, Sirius turned around, slid on his coat and walked out of the house. Y/N watched him walk away, managing to stop the front door before it slammed shut behind him. Not even bothering to put her coat on, she slipped on her shoes and hastily followed him up the driveway. 

“What are you doing out here? Go back inside, you’ve not even got a coat on. You’ll freeze.” Sirius said bluntly when she managed to catch up to him. 

“I don’t care.” Y/N pressed, “Will you please just speak to me? You’ve been avoiding me for days!” 

“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t feel like speaking to you after I walked in on you kissing my best mate.” 

“I’m engaged to him!” 

“You told me you didn’t love him!” 

“I don’t!” 

“Then why did you kiss him?” 

They were stood facing each other now. The chilly night air nipped at Y/N’s bare skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. She could feel frustrated tears stinging her eyes and she fought hard to hold them in. 

“He kissed me.” Y/N’s voice came out strained, “I wish he didn’t. God, I wish he didn’t. I don’t know why he did it. It just happened. I don’t know – maybe he just wanted to see if there was anything there.” 

“And was there?” Sirius asked, his eyes still cold. 

“Not on my part, no.” Y/N admitted, “Not like there was when you kissed me.” 

Sirius stopped at that. His eyes locked on hers, his expression softening for the very first time. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his frown eased.  

“You mean, the kiss with me really meant something to you?” 

Y/N nodded; a shy smile crept over her face as she thought back to their kiss. The way that Sirius’s lips had felt so different to James’s. Softer, more passionate, it had just felt right in that moment. 

“Of course it meant something to me. I thought it had to you as well,” her smiled faltered for a second, “but then after you left straight away and you avoided me for days. I thought you regretted it. Then the kiss with James happened and...” 

“I did regret it. I regretted it because you’re engaged to my best friend and I'm the bloody fool that decided to fall in love with you.” Sirius’s brows furrowed, “I just felt like I fucked up. God, you’re getting married.” 

Sirius raked a hand through his hair, his head tipped back. He looked up towards the sky, the inky, dark night sprinkled with stars. He sighed and then looked back at her. 

“I just wish we could have met under a different circumstance.” he said sadly, “without everything being so complicated.” 

“Me too.” 

She couldn’t help the aching feeling in her heart. Feeling as if the world was so cruel to throw them together this way. His eyes locked on hers, a deep well of sadness in them. 

“We should go back inside; you’ll catch your death out here.” Sirius said, placing a hand on her arm and trying to guide her back to the house. 

“Where were you going anyway?” she asked, “When you walked out?” 

“God knows.” 

They walked back to the house in silence, the only sound being the creaky stairs as they made their way back to their bedrooms. She could feel the tension in the air, like they both wanted to say something but couldn’t. When they reached the top of the stairs, without saying anything, Sirius placed a gentle hand on her cheek and turned her to face him. 

Gently, Sirius pulled her towards him, sliding one arm around her body so her chest was just brushing against his. His other hand moved up to cup the back of her neck, his fingertips brushing gently against her skin. He pulled her in closer and she tipped her head back to look at him, their lips just inches away from each other. 

He didn’t wait a second longer. His lips found hers, pressing against them as he kissed her deeply. One hand slid down to rest on her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her body flush against his.  

For the first time that night, Y/N wasn’t thinking about all the complications, she was just basking in the moment, happy to feel the electricity between them once again. The kiss was much longer than their last, much more passionate. Y/N ran her fingers through Sirius’s hair. Every inch of her was pulled towards him, desperate to cling onto him. She wanted it to last forever, her arms wrapped around his neck, his body melted against her own, her lips on his. She would have given anything for time to stand still. 

All too soon, the kiss ended. Sirius’s lips moved away from hers. Their breathing was loud in the silence. The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity, both refusing to look away. 

“What do we do now?” Y/N asked softly. 

Sirius paused before answering, his eyes flicking back down to her lips. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but no words came out. Instead, he just tilted his head down and kissed her again, sweetly this time. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes if it means I get to do that again.” Sirius whispered, his lips still touching hers. 

“But what about James?”  

Her question brought them both crashing back to reality. Sirius let out a deep exhale as he looked away.  

“Let me worry about that.”  

James was in the kitchen the next morning when Y/N went to get breakfast. Much like herself, he was an early riser and was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. The golden glow of the sunlight lit up the room, bathing James in its warmth.  

“Morning.” he smiled, looking up at her. His voice was still thick with sleep and his curls were falling messily over his forehead. 

Y/N smiled back despite her stomach churning with anxiety. She had spent most of the night unable to sleep, replaying last night’s events in her mind. Despite James being completely oblivious to what was happening with Sirius, she could barely stomach being in the same room as him. 

James kicked the chair out that was opposite from him, gesturing for her to take a seat. She wanted to refuse, to distance herself from him as much as possible, but she couldn’t.  

“You’ve been avoiding me.” James addressed. She felt her heart immediately drop. Her eyes darted across the room, looking anywhere but back at him. 

“I could say the same.” she retorted. James raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back in his seat. 

“You kissed me.” The words had fallen from her mouth before she had even realised what she was saying.  

“I did.” An amused smile tugged on his lips. Y/N’s stomach heaved at the way he was acting so casually about it. 

“Why did you do it?” 

“To see if we both felt anything.” he shrugged. 

“And did you?”  

“Would it matter if I did?” 

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He was acting so nonchalant, and it was driving her insane. James just chuckled, amused by her reaction. 

“Let’s suppose I did feel something. Would that affect anything?” he probed. 

Y/N looked away from him again, she was speechless. Her head was reeling from everything that was going on, all the conflicting emotions. A few weeks ago her and James were planning away for them to get out of the engagement, and then he kissed her and now, he seemed unfazed by the whole situation. 

“It wouldn’t.” he answered for her, “Because you didn’t feel anything.”  

For a moment, the whole world seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened, shocked at how blunt he was being with her. She couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t felt anything. He was right and she hated that. 

“Fine.” she admitted, feeling her throat clench up, the words just barely forcing themselves out, “I didn’t feel anything. What were you expecting? That you would kiss me and-” 

“That there would be fireworks and we would both realise that we were actually madly in love with each other?” James said dryly, “I’m not stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting.”  

Y/N sighed and rested her head in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything that had just been said.  

“I’m a good kisser, right?” he teased, breaking the silence, “I mean, you have to give me that. It wasn’t completely awful, was it?” 

“No, it wasn’t completely awful.” Y/N cracked a smiled for the first time that morning. The atmosphere between them felt lighter. She felt herself relax a little, her smile growing wider. It was nice to be able to laugh a little, even if it was due to the awkwardness of the situation. 

“Did you sort everything out with Sirius?”  

“What?” Y/N spluttered, nearly choking on the intake of breath. 

“C’mon, I’m not thick.” he smiled, “All this ‘you’d be daft not to marry her’ nonsense. He couldn’t make it any more obvious.” 

Y/N’s heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, the blood pumping through her body as she tried to think of a way to get her out of speaking about Sirius. 

“I didn’t... we didn’t... nothing happened.” she stumbled over her words. It was clear that she was terrible liar because she only managed to keep it up for a few seconds before she let out a massive sigh. 

“You’re the worst liar I have ever met, you know that?” James laughed.  

She sighed again, realising that she had no choice but to come clean. James was right – he wasn’t stupid and his suspicions were spot on. 

“Fine.” she groaned, “We kissed. Twice actually. We’ve met up a few nights, down here and we just chatted and-” 

“You like him.” James said. 

“I like him.”  

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both of them just stewing in the silence. Y/N tapped her fingers anxiously on the table, trying to think of something to say. 

“I’m sorry.” she decided on. 

“Don’t be sorry.” 

Y/N felt completely lost. He didn’t seem angry, or disappointed. He seemed almost understanding and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She looked up at him, slightly surprised by his reaction. 

“You don’t care?” she asked incredulously. 

“Nope.” he smiled, “I think I always knew this would happen eventually. I never really believed in the arrangement. I mean, you’re great and I do like you but I don’t really want to marry you and you don’t want to marry me either. So what difference does it make that you like someone else?” 

“But your parents have booked the wedding.” 

“Fuck the wedding. I don’t care.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Our parents care more about the wedding than we ever could. They’ll get over it. They’ll find someone else for me to marry.” he finished with a laugh. 

Y/N felt like all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she could breathe properly again for the first time in weeks. James was being so mature about the whole situation. She had been worrying for absolutely no reason, convinced that her entire world was about to come crashing down. 

“So, what do we tell our parents?” she asked. 

“Let me figure that out.” James said sitting up straight, “I’ll speak with both sets of parents, and we’ll see where it goes from there. In the meantime, just act normal. They don’t think that there’s anything wrong.” 

Y/N distracted herself while James was speaking to their parents by making her way up to Sirius’s room. She knocked gingerly on his door. He didn’t answer for a few moments but then she heard a shuffling sound and the door creaked open. 

Sirius looked like he had just woken up, his jet black hair slightly tussled but still perfect looking, plaid pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips. Y/N found herself staring at him for a second to long, her eyes scanning over his shirtless torso, taking in the sprinkling of tattoos that she hadn’t seen before. 

“Are you going to come in or are you just going to stare at me all day?” a cocky smirk spread across his lips. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter his room and shut the door behind her. He leaned back against his bed, his eyes wandering over her, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was watching her as well.  

Neither of them spoke as they drank each other in. Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time all the little details. The posters that had be messily taped to the wall, the stacks of books by his bed, even the smell of the room, all the subtle hints of him. 

“I told James.” she said, breaking the silence. 

“It’s a bit early to be dropping bombshells like that.” his mouth was curling up at the corner. 

“We don’t all sleep in ‘til noon,” she teased. Sirius just rolled his eyes at her. 

“D’you think I slept at all last night?” he nudged her, “How did he take it?” 

“Better than I expected, actually. He said he knew something was going on between us anyway. Said you spoke... highly of me.” she said, choosing her words carefully. 

“Oh, yeah?” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes sparkling mischievously “What did he say?” 

“That you said he’s daft not to marry me.” 

Sirius snorted in amusement, leaning back on the bed and crossing his arms. 

“I was that obvious, was I?” he laughed, “I guess he’s not as thick as I thought he was.” 

“I think it was more obvious when you stormed off when you walked in on him kissing me.” she joked. The pair of them laughed at the thought of Sirius’s dramatic exit. “He didn’t seem bothered at all. I mean, we both agreed that this engagement was stupid. It’s just an excuse for our parents to get involved in our lives. There’s no real reason for us to get married.” 

“So, what now?” he rested one of his hands on her thigh, “the marriage is off, I’m assuming. So, what’s the plan – we run away into the sunset together?” 

“In a perfect world, I would love to do just that, but we both know it’s not going to be that easy.” her smile faded slightly, “James is breaking the news to our parents. God knows what he’s going to tell them.”  

“Well, I suppose we just have to wait and see.” 

He pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her properly for the first time. She felt like she melted into him, simply just existing in his arms. Sirius rand a hand down her arm, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, letting it linger for a few seconds. 

Every sense of her body seemed to come alive all at once. The scent of his skin mingling with the like smell of his cologne, the sound of his breath and the feel of his gentle touch running over her skin. She felt herself get lost in the moment, forgetting the past and ignoring the future. For now, she felt content. 

[prodbymaui]

Chasing Stars, Losing You

I'll be damned, cupid's demanding back his arrow

PAIRING: jung jaehyun x reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, slow burn, angst, slice of life, fluff, eventual smut, ceo!jaehyun (yes, we love him), model!reader, mentions of Taeyong, Yuta, Mark and Johnny

WORD COUNT: 14k+ words

WARNINGS: mentions of eating disorder, smoking, usage of drugs, self-harming, toxic relationship (?)

SYPNOSIS: When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

TAGS: @lovingvoidgoatee @jaessunflower214 @fluffyjaes @hopefulchick @clblnz @jaehyunsprincess @haebragi @lorenakaspersen @joepomonerof @sadstuffonthestreet @carelessshootanonymous-blog @iraa567 @ethelia

A/N: aaaand it's finally out! it took me forever to finish this fic as this was the longest one I've written after taking a break from writing so bare with me if some scenes seemed to be missing something. and also, this isn't beta read so excuse the grammatical errors, typos and such. anyways, enjoy reading! like and reblogs with comments are highly appreciated! <3

Walking on soft clouds, that's what you felt every second you were with Jung Jaehyun.

The industry itself had told you to fuck off and go back to little hole you used to hide at.  Stomping over you and shouting you shits to make you realize that you're not fucking worthy of everything they had to offer. The modelling industry, despite you being a supermodel, had broke you into pieces more than one could've ever imagined.

But Jaehyun was there to fix you up, every damn time it happened. Jaehyun who was always there to gather you in his loving arms, whispering praises and assurance. Jaehyun who showered you with nothing but affection. Jaehyun who made you a hot chocolate with snow man marshmallows even though it's summer because he knew it was your favorite.

Jaehyun who cancelled an important meeting with a client because you called him, expressing how much you wanted to watch this movie and that day was your only free time. Jaehyun who, despite having a tight schedule, managed to come to all of your fashion shows to support you. Jaehyun who displayed your magazines in his office proudly.

Everytime he's beside you, everyone disappears together with your worries about the world. With all those giggles, cuddles and just overall having him around-- you couldn't ask for more. Jung Jaehyun was the man that you decided you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

Jaehyun was your own heart.

Your relationship consisted of right balance of public and private. You don't reveal as much on your social medias but also didn't deprived everyone on getting a glimpse of your life. Any special events that happened, they already expected either of you to post a picture of the other.

Jaehyun and you made sure that you still have the privacy you should own while also happily sharing moments with the fans. It was a decision made by the both of you.

Though it was hard to attain a free time, you two always made sure spend it to the fullest. Not by travelling from country to country, no. You spent it by being in each other's arms, feeling the warmth of one another. Bonding over watching movies or cooking together. Because for you, having the other around was enough.

Your manager even suggested that you should make a youtube channel and upload your vlogs with Jaehyun. She was so sure that everyone would be more than happy to see those videos. You shrugged and said that you'll ask Jaehyun about it.

He agreed, actually. And your first vlog was about one of your cooking slash baking chronicles. Jaehyun, much to everyone's surprise, was very good at baking while you, at the other hand, enjoyed watching him and tasting his products.

''How's the mixing going, chef?'' You giggled beside him, pointing the camera at his handsome face. Blush was evident on his cheeks, still not used to having someone take a video of him if not for business purposes.

''Hey, you have to answer my question,'' You poked his crimson cheeks and squished it with one hand lightly.

Jaehyun smiled, ''It's going fine, they're going smooth now.''

Satisfied, you diverted the camera to the mixing bowl in front of your boyfriend. It didn't took him long before finishing it up and moving to the next part which was chilling the dough.

You propped the lenses so it could face both of you and looked at Jaehyun through the screen. ''So, what're we gonna do while waiting for the dough to rise?'' You asked him with a raise of an eyebrow.

''Stare at it 'til it's done,'' Jaehyun replied with a small snicker. You jokingly shook your head and sighed in disbelief of his humor, in which he whined at. He circled his arms around your waist and buried his face on your neck, muttering something about you now have to give him kisses because you hurt his feelings.

You only chuckled at him, ''Fine, I'll give you kisses later.''

You figured that you'll just put a timelapse of you and Jaehyun watching a movie as you waited for the dough to rise. When the time came, you decided to offer rolling down the dough and shaping it to the shapes you like. It varies from simple circles to stars and clouds. After doing so, you popped to the oven and before you knew it, you and Jaehyun were already packing it to share to your friends and kids at the orphanage.

Arriving at the orphanage, you were met by kids rushing towards the both of you as if you were parents who came from work. ''Oh! careful there, Taehee,'' You softly reminded the little girl, catching her just in time.

Jaehyun sat at the floor and you settled beside him, you don't want to risk breaking the little chairs trying to fit your grown asses to them. ''Mister Jaehyun, what is that?'' The 4 year old boy, looked at the packet with shining eyes.

''This is a cookie, Taeho. You told me last time that you like them right?'' Jaehyun smiled widely with his eyes that only a fool could say that it wasn't genuine. Taeho gasped and fell to the floor dramatically, a hand over his mouth as he processed what Jaehyun said before.

''Hey, everyone, listen! Mister Jaehyun brought us cookies!'' Taeho shouted in excitement, jumping up and down. The children went from being scattered around the room to running towards Jaehyun, tackling him to a hug. Some were even kissing his face to express gratitude.

''I brought cookies too,'' You pouted at the lack of attention given, raising your little packets as well to show them. Taehee and some of the others ran to you, ''Don't be sad, I'll try yours!'' Taehee grinned at you while reaching to the cookies.

The staffs wanted to take a picture and video of both of you to show the world how genuine and kind you were to the kids. But refrained themselves because they knew you weren't doing this for publicity. So they just enjoyed watching you taking care of them, giving each child the same attention.

''Wow, who's that beautiful princess I am seeing?'' Jaehyun exaggeratedly said, rubbing his eyes with his fists to take 'double-look' to Taehee who was twirling around in front of him with a crown on her head. ''You look so pretty, Taehee!'' He complimented, even clapping his hands as if he just finished watching some high-quality theater show.

You snorted at Jaehyun's actions, finding it cute how he tried so hard to praise Taehee in every possible way. Your heart was warm watching the interactions exchanged between them. Admit or not, you had imagine how Jaehyun would be such a good father to your own children.

Snapping out of your little bubble, you turned around when you felt a little tap on your shoulder. Taeho was standing behind you, holding a piece of paper. ''Hey, what's that, buddy?'' You pointed at the bond paper in his hands. He sat on your lap and showed you a drawing, one look from it and you could tell it's a vision of a 'perfect' family.

At first, you though Taeho drew what seemed to be his desire. His want to meet his parents again and be with them. But you were wrong. Taeho took a few inhales and exhales, catching his breath.

He first pointed at the two kids, ''This is me and Taehee,'' You nodded at the mention of his twin. ''This is Mister Jaehyun,'' His finger moved to the male adult. ''And this is you!'' Lastly, at the female adult. ''I drew us!'' Taeho cheered happily.

You paused for a moment before grinning widely, ''Oh that's so cool, Taeho! You did so great!''

''Our teacher at school told us to drew our family but I don't have mommy and daddy so I drew you and Mister Jaehyun,'' He explained. You told him how you were thankful that he considered you as a family and complimented his drawing, telling him he have a future for it.

The visit ended with you bringing home the precious masterpiece of Taeho and a kiss from all the kids. It was already night when you and Jaehyun reached your apartment. Once you finished showering, Jaehyun came next.

''I saved some cookies for you at the fridge,'' Jaehyun muttered, giving you a sweet kiss before entering the shower. You only hummed at him. Minutes went by and Jaehyun went on his way to get his pajamas at the living room inside his small luggage-- getting a peak of the kitchen.

And when Jaehyun saw you throwing out the cookies he made, he said nothing.

Weeks had past by, fashion week were coming quicker that you had expected. You're booked to the brim and that was what Jaehyun was worrying about. You rarely responded to his texts, not answering his calls most of the time. He couldn't even get the chance to visit you himself as he's busy as well so he made sure to send flowers and letters everyday to your apartment.

''Oh lord, you're gaining weight, dear,'' The designer, seemingly horrified, whispered to your ears as he stared at you through the mirror, tightening the laces of your top with a struggle. You pursed your lips, of course you noticed this as well. It was the lack of exercise, you thought.

The fitting had come to an end with a sound of disappointed 'tsk's was heard from the designer beside you, a few shakes of his head and a sigh. You remained standing in front of your reflection, staring and observing your body. The man came up to your side again, holding your shoulders and smiled softly.

''Listen, dear. You already look pretty, angelic even,'' That pricked out a single thorn of your throat but what he said next poured a ton of thorns right after the relief. ''But you would suit my designs more-- no, you would be more beautiful if you lose weight. Remember what I told you before? Beauty equals to skinny. You're not beautiful if you're not skin and bones.''

And you agreed. Models who doesn't have their ribs showing through their skin have no place in the fashion industry. The clothes wouldn't hang pretty on you if there were fat getting on the way. He was right. You should lose weight.

Travelling around the city, going from places to another. It was safe to say that you were emotionally and physically tired. Even with all of those you still have to keep a good physical appearance for the paparazzis who were hungry for a snap of you at any given time.

You were done for the day and could finally sleep in your own apartment instead of sleeping on a mattress and sharing a hotel room with your manager.  Sighing, you took off your shoes and hang your coat behind the door. Making your way to the kitchen to grab some water.

What surprised you was being met by the back of a man, cooking at your kitchen while humming and whistling to the music being played. You knew that back so well. ''Jae?'' You murmured under your breath but he turned around any way, with that smile of his that you love so much.

''Surprise?'' Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow, smirking at you for a second before placing down the pan at the table, which you didn't noticed was already set. ''Have a seat,'' He gestured and you did.

Seeing all the foods that he prepared, you appreciate it, truly. But you can't deny the nervousness bubbling up inside you, all those comments from countless designers and other models flashing your mind. You gulped as you remembered what they said,

''Lose some weight, will you?''

''You're getting fat, dear.''

''Skin and bones are the only acceptable thing here.''

''Fashion show or laying in your bed with all those fats inside of you?''

''God, you look awful!''

Not being able to take those thoughts anymore, you pushed the plate off the table-- the one Jaehyun was serving you his food. The plate shattered on the floor as your hands shook violently, heavy breaths to accompany your shaky eyes.

Jaehyun rushed to your side, hugging you and whispering comforting things at you like he always did. He caressed your hair while continuously planting kisses on your head, hugging you even tighter. He wanted you to feel nothing but absolute protection in his arms.

A few minutes passed and you still haven't calmed down yet. Jaehyun didn't know what else to do as you haven't panicked this long before. As you tried to control your breath, you felt something coming up to your throat when your eyes glanced at the food in front of you.

Thrashing in Jaehyun's embrace, you ran to the bathroom and threw up whatever you can. It wasn't long when you felt Jaehyun holding up your hair, helping you.

You thought about nothing but the fear of eating the food that has so many calories. Fear of gaining weight and losing validation in your field of work.

The next time you saw Jaehyun was when you came home from visiting another brand, preparing for the nearing show. ''Hi, love,'' Jaehyun greeted you with a hug, ready to smell the scent of vanilla on you but was met with a unpleasant one. ''Why do you,'' You pulled away from him in confusion. ''Are you smoking?'' He questioned with his face scrunched up, not liking the smell one bit.

You chuckled, ''What? Of course not, babe. Why would I smoke?'' You shrugged off his questions just like that, kissing his cheek before walking away to take a bath and get ready for bed.

The next morning, Jaehyun woke up without you beside him and he figured out you've already woken up. He made his way out of the room, stretching and yawning but glad that you two finally have a free time to spend with each other. What happened last night was long forgotten, maybe you were telling the truth. There's no reason for you to even lie to him, right?

Wrong, because the moment Jaehyun stepped a foot to the living room, he saw your figure sitting at the balcony with smoke surrounding you. Clearly, there was an ash tray at the table by your side and clearly, you've finished quite a few already.

He stomped towards you way, opening the door harshly before getting the cig out of your mouth and threw them on the ground. ''What the fu-- Jae!'' You stood up from your chair, shocked and eyes widened. ''Not smoking, huh? Then what is this?'' Jaehyun glared at the remains of your cigarettes that was displayed at the table.

He didn't shouted at you. He didn't forced you to say why and how you've to this point. Only accepting the fact that this was something you used as a coping mechanism.

What he can't accept was he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't bring himself to help you get out of that addictive nicotine because slowly, he was afraid to admit that he was getting deprived of time to spend with you.

Hours to days, days became weeks and weeks turned into months. It has been so long since Jaehyun last talked to you. Scrolling to your conversations only made his friends give him a pat of pity on his shoulder because of how many messages of his was left unread by you.

His father had told him that the Jung Enterprise was already nearing its peak and as the CEO, it was Jaehyun's job to reach and maintain it. But it wouldn't work if Jaehyun kept cancelling meetings just to stay at your apartment. Waiting like a puppy for you to come home, which you never did.

It must be the exhaustion in him because he supposed, if you're not gonna reply, might as well drown himself in work, right? And so, Jaehyun decided that it'll be better for him to just divert his attention.

His schedules became packed, meetings after meetings. Signing and approving papers. Moving places from one another. Jaehyun forgot what the words; 'eat' and 'sleep' meant.

Slowly, Jaehyun was able to get a taste of power. It was like he was getting suffocated by the amount of glory and yet he's enjoying that said suffocation. The pleasure he got whenever everyone praised how Jung Enterprise kept climbing up to the top, never failing even once along the way.

This was something he had been dreaming since he was introduced to their business.

And you bet, Jung Jaehyun would exchange this for anything else.

You weren't exactly sure whether to be happy now that you're once again driving back to your apartment. The apartment where you lived all alone, cold even though you're inside your blankets.

While might say otherwise, you would prefer staying a hotel rather than your 'home'. You're just too caught up with all these castings and fittings that you found your apartment a little too 'unfamiliar'. You didn't know how it started but you surely knew where this was leading to.

Because you've been here before, and you knew exactly how to deal with these. But Jaehyun doesn't.

''Oh now, what-- you're into drugs?'' A scoff behind you was heard. You knew you had to explain yourself but you can't afford. Not you've finally got your stomach to stop grumbling about hunger. You got filled without even actually consuming food inside your body. Bonus points for the euphoria you're in, making you feel like on cloud nine.

You hissed but made no effort to face him, continuing to inhale it as the smell of burning leaves infiltrate Jaehyun's nostrils. He pinched the bridge of him nose before walking to your front and throwing the blunt away. Just like what he did with your cigar.

Seeing your blunt being thrown away clicked something inside of you. Standing up, you pushed Jaehyun away. ''What the fuck is wrong with you?!'' Scrambling to search for the thrown weeds with your bloodshot eyes.

''What the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you! Look at yourself! Are you even sleeping?! Are you even eating?!'' Jaehyun spewed out, looking at you as if you're some ridiculous human being.

You glared at him by the mention of eating, ''Why do you fucking care? Just go play in your little office or something..'' You whispered the last sentence harshly before pushing him and made your way out, immediately going to the bathroom.

There you puked even though you hadn't eaten anything for days, bunch of slimy liquids were the only ones that made it out. Just the thought of consuming those calories and gaining weight was something you couldn't bear.

Jaehyun wouldn't understand the pressure of having to stay skinny. He would never. He was born with 2 loving parents and a company for him to inherit the moment he was born. Jaehyun was surrounded by people who loves him while you only have him. Jaehyun would never understand that you don't want to gain weight.

You can't. You need to stay light. You HAVE to stay skinny in order for you to stay relevant in the model industry. You've done a lot to work your way on the top. You've already had a grip of your dream, and you would never let it slip out of your hands.

''I don't know, man. That sounds tough,'' Mark, a friend of his, tilted his head with the emphasize of 'tough'. Jaehyun had told him about the state of your relationship. Days wouldn't pass by without his mind boggling him about it.

Playing with a pen on his fingers, Jaehyun chewed on his bottom lips. ''Do you think it'll be better if we cool off?'' he said lowly and it made Mark froze. The younger took a breath and ran his hand on his face, ''Dude, I mean- it's fine to take a break once in a while and you obviously need it, yes.''

Mark looked down, ''If you think that it'll mend the crack then go for it, but if you think it'll do otherwise, might as well just- you know?''

Jaehyun's eyebrows furrowed, confused, ''Well?''

The younger sighed, feeling himself get older much faster just by having a talk with the CEO, ''What I'm trying to say is that, talk to her first. She could be going through something right now, and she might need someone to be at her side.''

Mark shook his head, giving him a dismissive gesture as he stood up to leave. The door opened at the same time, revealing Jaehyun's secretary, ''Sir? Meeting at 3 minutes,'' He reminded Jaehyun.

Jaehyun nodded, getting a few of his papers before walking towards the door with Mark following behind him.

Thinking about what the younger said, the CEO could feel himself question his worth for you. He can't give help to someone who doesn't want help, Jaehyun thought. Maybe his efforts weren't enough for you to trust him?

Jaehyun wouldn't admit it any time soon but he knew that the cool off suggestion was just something that covers what he truly had in mind.

It had been a week since you last contacted Jaehyun, ever since then, you hadn't been replying to his texts and calls. It was the epitome of unexpected but welcomed, though. Cutting him like that wasn't intentional but it sure has brought you some fresh air to breath.

Being with Jaehyun these past few weeks was very suffocating for you even when you've only spent the littlest time together. You felt your every move being watched and you actions being limited. Like a child with her parent.

You inhaled and exhaled the smoke, feeling lighter with every hit of the addictive leaves. Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease like this, no one to look at you as if judging every single step you take.

Your attention was diverted when your front door busted open and clear traces of footsteps were heard coming towards you. It was long before it revealed a fuming Jaehyun.

No words were said as he opened his phone and threw it to you without care.

''A week without having any contact with you and this is the first news that'll greet me? What the fuck are you doing to yourself?'' Jaehyun's voice was calm but his tone can be considered as harsher than the last time he talked to you.

Confusion displayed on your face as you stride towards the thrown cellphone that landed at the table, it showed an article. Without even reading the contents of it, you already knew what is was about, looking by the picture below the headlines. Big bold letters accompanied by photos taken as a proof.

Everyone aren't as innocent as they portrayed to be.

And there you are, looking shit as ever. Beside you was someone you know that held a syringe, injecting morphine to your body.

You scoffed at it, ''It's just morphine, why the fuck are they acting like nobody else used drugs?'' Jaehyun couldn't believe what he was hearing, he can feel his ears stinging with every words you say. ''Are you hearing yourself right now? Just because you've seen someone used it, doesn't mean that you gotta do it as well. Be fucking mature for once and think of your health.''

''Ah, you're done with playing as the perfect boyfriend so now you're moving to act as if you're a fucking advisor or something? like a father who 'knows the best for his daughter', huh? Is that it? Or you have an important meeting in about 5 minutes so you're getting rid of me because you couldn't fucking prioritize your girlfriend before you company!''

Every word felt like a thorn stabbing at your heart as you let Jaehyun know what he had put you through when he started to change. That you still have feeling and emotions. That you were hurting as well, just like other normal human being.

Jaehyun let out a sound of disbelief, ''That only happened when you decided it's better to focus on getting high, smoking different shits everyday than to solve things out with your boyfriend like other normal human being. So yes, maybe I did prioritized my company before my girlfriend. 'Cause even drowning myself in work gives me more assurance that I- for the least -worth something than being with my girlfriend who doesn't even wanna fucking talk to me,''

''Oh my god, stop being so fucking far up your ass!'' Screams filled the room as you threw your coat at the man in front you. He was breathing heavily like you are, gripping his hands to a fist.

The way he worded everything, it was like all of these were your fault. It was as if you took the happiness and love away from the relationship who used to be full of it. It was like you've dragged this relationship down with you, ruining both at the same time until they were impossible to fix.

''All these past months, I've been trying to understand all your shenanigans with your modelling! I even cancelled a fucking meeting with a big client for you! And now you're telling me that all I think about is myself?'' It was like venom dripped out of his mouth as he spit out the words. It hurts but you couldn't care less. You're done pretending as if you're still in a happy and healthy relationship.

As weeks passed by, you were falling deep into a hellhole. You, yourself, doesn't even know if you can trust Jaehyun to save you from it. Considering how he was more determined to bring his company to the top rather than helping you out of your cave, you presume that being with Jaehyun further brought you nothing but more pain and suffering.

Yet Jaehyun doesn't know how you both had come to this. Was it so bad for him to want the best for his company? Was it so bad for him to work on his dreams? Ever since you and him became official, his focus was only on you. So how come he became the selfish one here?

''God, that company again-- then go! The door is fucking open for you to leave anytime! I can't deal with this shit anymore. If you continue acting like a fucking God who had done everything to save his people everytime you cancel a fucking meeting, then you find someone else to roleplay with you!''

''Fine then! I can't also deal with someone so narcissistic. So narcissistic that she can't see the efforts of her man to help her because all she sees is herself and how fucking great she is-- fine! I'll fucking leave. Anywhere is better than being here with someone who can't fucking see the value of other people.'' That was the last thing Jaehyun said before walking away, closing the door behind him harshly as remains of him stayed at your condo.

Jaehyun was no longer your own heart. Instead, he was a walking hammer that smashed your heart into pieces.

Social Elite Modelling Agency had announced the break up of the infamous 'perfect relationship' involving Jung Jaehyun and their model, Y/N.

she deserves it

if I was in Jung's place, I would leave her too

she looks like she hadn't eaten for days, hope she's doing okay

Jaehyun seemed like a very good guy, what happened?

first her career and now her relationship, she always ruins everything good.

-> true, I wouldn't be surprised if she was the reason of their break up, she's the epitome of problem.

the guy was like perfect, the problem was her.

the pictures of Y/N are concerning, hope she's gonna be alright someday.

You scoffed as you slammed the newest Vogue Magazine on the table in front of you, diverting your eyes to the screen in front, followed by a small laugh of mocking, earning a look from your friend. ''THIS is what they call news? This was 2 years ago for goodness' sake!'' Your rants echoed across the room eyes burning a hole through the news casted on your computer's monitor.

''You know media. If they can't find something from the present, they'll dig up the past.'' The deep voice replied to you. Looking at the couch not far from your place, you could see the figure of the man being covered by the same magazine you've been looking at for the past hour.

Shaking your head, you expressed disagreement. ''I just don't understand why it has to be me, Taeyong.'' The said man stood up and walked towards you, sighing as he sat at the chair in front.

''It's because you're still relevant, you're still famous. Media wouldn't care about you and he who must not be named if you both aren't known up 'till to this day.'' A smile appeared on his adonis face, crossing his legs while he leaned to your table.

''Besides, you're not still in love with your ex, aren't you?'' His smile turned into a teasing smirk, eyebrows going up and down as his fingers gestured a heart. You rolled your eyes at his actions, ''Ha ha real funny, yong.''

''Kidding aside, don't pay too much attention with it. It's not worth it. People will eventually get tired of hearing the same news over and over,'' With a tilt of his head, he pointed out.

You sighed and nodded, ''You're right, not worth my time.''

Years had passed since your lowest point of life and you could say that you've learned a lot, including how to manage your own schedules and know what's better for yourself, the real and actually better this time.

After the break up, everyone witnessed how you turned into the worst version of yourself, getting off everyone's radar and suddenly being seen, looking as if you're homeless and had nothing to eat.

Everyone can't almost recognize you whenever they see the photos during that era, except Taeyong, a fellow model. The man was an acquaintance, appeared in your life way before you got into a relationship but with a busy life of both, it's rare that you two contacted.

Not until the news broke out and Taeyong happened to stumble upon it at a website. He didn't hesitated to contact you, though he failed a lot, eventually, he succeeded through a friend who knew you as well. Taeyong refused to tell you who.

It was quite a ride when the red-haired model became your best friend and help you to get through. Starting from stabling your mental health to getting your life back together. You never forget to thank him but he refused it everytime you do. According to him, your recovery was all on you and all he did was support your decisions, therefore, the credits should be given to yourself.

There was even a time where you thought of quitting modelling and start your own fashion business, he didn't even had a second thought before agreeing, gifting you art pencils and a sketchbook. That certain pad was used ever since it was bought, containing an adequate amount of your first sketches.

Taeyong, being great as ever, had become your advisor and best friend despite having a busy schedule that required travelling from one places to another.

His appearance in your life was unexpected but very welcomed and appreciated.

''Have you checked your new project?'' Taeyong asked you as he lazily laid on his back, reaching for the painted stars and moon on the ceiling even though he knew he couldn't touch it. ''I haven't, what's up?'' You don't remember checking it yet, more over remembering to plan checking it as you have quite a lot on your to-do works.

The older man let out a bored groan, ''I think it was a skincare brand,'' You hummed to acknowledge what he was saying, a gesture to say that he can continue. ''I didn't know they are putting you on commercial films nowadays, you tryna' act or something?'' There wasn't any hint of mocking, it was pure and genuine curiosity.

Shaking your head, ''Nah, agency said the company's head was a friend of our CEO, said they were asking for someone that made noises.'' Taeyong scrunched his nose and smiled widely, ''Making noises, huh? Told you, you're still famous as ever. You've always been making noises but hearing it now, I feel like a proud dad.''

Reciprocating his smile, you threw your extra lollipop at him, his favorite. ''And I will always thank you for helping me get back on my feet.''

''Stop,'' The man giggled, disagreeing. He got on his feet and grabbed your hands, dragging you with him to the door. ''Let's go, get some ice cream.''

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you went out of the bathroom, rubbing your hair gently with a microfiber towel to dry it as soon as possible. Rummaging through your drawer, you chose the comfortable yet still presentable looking clothes, deciding with a white crop top and sweat pants, topping it with a black cropped cardigan.

Just as you were putting on a simple and light makeup, your attention was caught by the knock on your front. The arch of your eyebrows furrowed as you didn't expect any visitors nor any deliveries today, a thought of someone finding out about your address crossed your mind but quickly vanished when you saw the newly dyed blonde hair of the one and only, Lee Taeyong, at the peephole.

''What're you doing here?'' Asked by you the moment the door was opened. Taeyong's small smile changed into a jokingly annoyed face, ''Hello to you too, Taeyong. How are you, Taeyong? Are you doing fine, Taeyong? That's really good, Taeyong! I'm glad that you're okay, Taeyong!'' You laughed at his reaction, giving him a light push inside the apartment, the older immediately jumping to lay down on your couch lazily.

''I was bored, I had nothing to do today,'' Grumbling, he answered your question earlier. You snickered getting your makeup and brought to the living room to finish it there, sitting at the floor, in front of Taeyong as you placed the products on the coffee table. ''Shouldn't you be sleeping, then? You always rant about not having enough time to get a proper sleep or something,'' You mumbled, touching up a few areas here and there.

''Do you think I haven't done that yet? Dude, I was asleep for 15 hours straight,'' Taeyong announced to you, emphasizing the word fifteen. You scoffed, ''So you decided to crash at my place and make a mess?'' Pointing at the messy arrangements of his socks and shoes, plus his cap which was thrown carelessly. He appeared slightly abashed with his smile, sending a peace sign and a flying kiss, earning a grimace from you.

Finally done with the makeup, you groaned in slight pain as you stood up, cleaning your things before putting them back to your room and making your way to get your shoulder bag.

''You've already made a mess but don't make more, alright?'' Warning him while you picked the shoes that matches your outfit but not that eye-catching to blend in, tying your shoes for safety. Taeyong quickly shot up, ''Wait- you're going somewhere?'' His eyes followed you as you walked around to check if you had forgotten something, going towards the door to leave.

''Obviously,'' Muttering while fixing the your face mask and cap hid your face, Taeyong scurry to wear his shoes and cap as well, jogging towards you. ''I'll come with you,'' Silence filled the air along with your stare at him, waiting for him to say that he's joking. But none was said, so you presume that he was indeed serious.

Giving you a nod with a bounce, he gestured a hand to tell you to go ahead and lead the way. So you did, closing the door, making sure it was safely locked before making your way to the parking lot of the building to use your car. You didn't hear anything from Taeyong, only following you and sitting at the passenger seat with a jolly vibe.

The only time he talked was when he asked you to play some music and where were you going. Again, you answered with a 'something', gaining a whine from you in which you laughed.

Arriving at the place, Taeyong made a face that showed a disappointment, clearly looking forward to a 'trip', not even a single thought of visiting a grocery store. You chuckled at his expression, ''What? Dude, I need to eat,'' Pointing with your lips, you told him to get a cart while you went ahead of him to start roaming around.

The blonde male would be lying if he said he didn't enjoyed the peaceful shopping-- always being surrounded with crowds and bodyguards, you two doesn't often experience this kind of comfortable vibe, so it's safe to say that this was a breather for the both of you.

It was not until your peripheral caught a sight of someone hiding in plain sight with a camera obviously angled towards you and Taeyong. You hummed, naturally showing back to it as you tugged your best friend's shirt, ''Dude,'' He furrowed his eyebrows at you, questioning your actions.

A brief widening of your eyes was all it took for Taeyong to realize what you were trying to convey, lowering his cap as he pushed the cart away from the lenses. ''Can't have a peaceful grocery shopping, huh?'' Hearing him tsked, holding you by your waist to guide you at a cashier with an empty line and quickly punched your items. Paying for the foods and drinks mindlessly with his card before carrying the bags and ushering you outside the store.

''Let's go, Yuta needs to know about this,'' The car's engine created a sound and before you knew it, you reached your agency's building and you were heading towards your manager's office.

''This is not a big deal but we're definitely gonna have a hard time shutting down the dating rumors,'' Said by Yuta while he scrolled through the news of the spotting of your apparently-- ''grocery date'' with Taeyong.

Yuta had became your manager through, again, your best friend. He was someone Taeyong trusted and knew for the longest of time so the man decided to recommend the japanese. And now, it was not only Taeyong who trusted Yuta with their whole life, but you as well. The japanese had proven many times that he was worthy of your trust plus friendship by how he protected you from further issues and how he supported you with any decisions, not without talking you down about the consequences, of course.

Yuta never pressured you about your body, never been strict about your diet and never limited you with going out with your friends and doing what you wanted. Yuta was a coworker turned into friend in no time.

Playing with your lower lip, you looked up to him, ''So, what do we do?'' A small snort was picked up by your ears beside, ''Let them think that way, it's not like dating me is bad, isn't it?'' Taeyong suggested with a smirk, earning a smack from you that made him let out a sound of pain.

Your manager only sighed at the childish sight of you and your best friend, shaking his head as he relaxed in his chair, ''Denying it immediately would only cause further suspicions, let it die down for a day or two.''

Taeyong shrugged his shoulders while you nodded. Both neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the plan.

''Can you cover up for me? The appointment?'' Rustling and a sound of engine came from the other line, Yuta's voice filled with anxiousness and worry. Nodding even if he can't see you, you agreed to do as he requested-- telling him not to worry.

You were hanging out at Taeyong's apartment when your manager called, saying something urgent came up which was why he couldn't attend the supposed meeting the the CEO of the skincare brand you were going to model for. Handling your own schedules and attending meetings weren't new to you as you've done them for a while after firing your last handler. So you were no way near of fearing to meet the clients, right?

Wrong. When something in you rang bells of warnings, you didn't hesitate to drag Taeyong with you, not even bothering to tell him where you were going. He could only thank the universe for his fashion taste and good looks that whatever he wore made him look presentable and elegant.

Reaching the building of the address Yuta had sent you, you stride confidently inside, making your way to the reception as you informed about the meeting involving your manager and the CEO. Fortunately, the lady confirmed it with no issues, proceeding to lead you and Taeyong to the elevator, you weren't sure if the employees were gawking at you or the man beside you, stifling their giggles as they stole glances.

''Damn, wonder if this is soundproof or something,'' Taeyong whispered to himself as you both stood in front of what seemed to be a door made out of acoustic plywood. Giving him a look, he almost instantly showed a smirk, knowing well that the look you were giving him meant that he should behave and be formal.

It wasn't long before the doors were pulled open, revealing a huge room with high ceiling and minimalistic designs. There were no picture frames of whatsoever, all of it were office related and some were for aesthetic purposes. The lady in charge of assisting you ushered you inside, staying by your side until the man sitting on the chair right at the center of the room turned around.

You held a breath unconsciously when the man with black jet hair faced you, confusion taking over your emotions as your brain processed the image of Mark Lee sitting in front of you, smirking as if he's in some kind of action movie.

''Mark?'' Looking at him up and down with confusion as you observed his stance. Snapping out of your bubble when you heard a snort beside you, you didn't know whether to greet him formally or informally, considering the fact that he was seated on the very chair that clearly was stated to be for the CEO. His lean body doesn't seem to quiet fit the said chair as it radiated massive intimidating vibes, something that you don't get that much from the young man.

Mark's smirk turned into a friendly smile, standing up before walking towards where you stood, offering his hand for a shake. ''Are you the CEO?'' Taeyong questioned with a quirk of an eyebrow, hands on his pockets like some gangster. You nudged him by your arm, sending him another look of warning, pursing your lips as you made a fist with your hand-- hidden from Mark's sight.

''No, he's not,'' A familiar deep voice coming from the entrance of the room rang your ears, it was so familiar that you could feel yourself froze, eyes widening with size where nervous, shock and a lot of mixed emotions were evident.

Soon, a figure of a man taller than the 3 of you made an appearance, pushing Mark lightly out of the way before sitting on where the younger was earlier. Seeing him take the chair, you've now realized why Mark didn't fit it. It was as clear as the clouds outside the building.

His tall and muscular body bent down, settling down as he relaxed against the chair. Just like what other people might say, it fit him like a puzzle. The way he sat with his arms placed on each side, legs open in a comfortable yet formal way and his eyes burning holes through your soul, making you give out answers without him, even asking the questions.

It explained why the chair seemed to have such a dominating and intimidating aura, it fitted its owner. To say the least, it was like the king was finally placed on his rightful throne.

''Take a seat,'' With a nod and a motion of his hand, the three of you sat in silence, as if puppies that had gotten tamed. ''I apologize if I didn't get to greet you when you walked through my door, but I assume, my friend here already did,'' You could feel yourself gulping, you don't even know why this was so nerve wrecking.

You don't know if it was because of the suffocating atmosphere inside the room. Maybe it was the way his piercing eyes panned at you. Maybe it was because of the memories from before started flooding your mind the moment your eyes met his. Maybe it was the longing feeling inside you as you stared at him, not sued to being so distant.

You're not sure which was the reason but you're hoping it wasn't the last. You couldn't afford to regain the longing and despair that kept you tied to darkness in a lot of months. You wouldn't want to experience being so vulnerable and weak that even a small needle would break you apart. You don't want to lose yourself to Jung Jaehyun once again.

The following days consisted of meetings about the contract you'll have with the brand. During those days, you've learned that Jaehyun was able to extend his company to multiple industries and you just can't deny the proudness inside you. By how the employees and staffs around you talked about him, Jaehyun appeared to be so hardworking that many deemed him to spending all of his time working. Comments about his good looks and body image was greatly spread out as well, earning praises here and there with men and women expressing envy and admiration.

''Dude, can you close your mouth? You're literally drooling,'' Taeyong poked to the side, you jerked and pinched him lightly as a revenge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned to him to whisper, ''I'm not drooling, dumbass.'' But your best friend only gave you a mocking smile, ''Sure, jan. Sure,'' Nodding his head as he made an 'okay' sign with his fingers under the table.

Irritated, you slap his hands lightly, making him laugh a little at your pissed facial expression. ''Taeyong, I swear to God, stop--''

''-- important so I hope everyone is paying attention rather than playing games under the table.'' You turned to look at Jaehyun who was talking in front, his eyes boring to you as he gave you an eyebrow flash, clarifying the fact that he was talking to you. He tilted his head when you didn't answered, putting his hands in his pockets, ''Isn't that right, Miss?''

The stares you received from the employees produced a clearing of your throat, nodding and sitting properly, ''Yes, that's right,'' You swear you could feel Taeyong sniffling a laugh beside you. You couldn't believe he just scolded you for not listening like some teacher.

Once the meeting about the plan for the photoshoot was adjourned, everyone proceeded to spend their small break by having coffee, going back to their respective floors and visitors like you and Taeyong, went out to go back to your agency.

You reached for the door handle when you've heard Mark calling you, turning around, you saw him still settled beside his boss slash friend who appeared to be busy reading something. ''Are you busy? Do you have anything to do after this?'' Though a bit puzzled, you shook your head no, curious as to why he was asking you. ''No, I don't have any schedule after this,'' You cleared up, making Mark smile.

''Would you want to eat meat with us?'' He suggested, looking at you like a younger brother asking for a candy to his older sibling. Facing Taeyong, you gave him the same question as you figured out you don't want to join them unless you have Taeyong by your side, ''Would you?''

''Oh, not him!'' The both of you immediately swirled to see Mark seemingly surprised with what he said as well, ''I mean-- it's not like Taeyong would reject a meat treat, right?'' Anyone could sense the awkwardness at the young man's voice but only a few can see how a certain someone shot him a look.

Taeyong hummed, ''I do have something after this,'' You prayed for him to reject the offer, believing that your best friend knew you well that he knew you wouldn't want to join the two. ''But sure, at dinner?'' Your jaw dropped at his request, in contrast to Mark and Taeyong's questionable grin.

''Sounds great! You two have a safe journey to wherever you're going!'' At least the excitement in Mark's voice made you smile.

Dinner came and the four of you were now seated in a rectangle shaped table with Mark at Jaehyun's side, and Taeyong at yours. It actually surprised you that you-know-who agreed to come, considering that his face doesn't seem impressed when Mark suggested it.

Thanks to Mark and Taeyong for the constant chatting about random things that helped breaking the silence, because if it weren't for them, the awkwardness surrounding your and Jaehyun's side would kill you.

Taking a bite of the fillet mignon, you joined the conversation, ''Since when did you two got this close?'' It was pure and genuine curiosity, not laced with any bits of malice nor mocking so you're not really sure why they seemed to be frozen, taken aback by your comment.

''Since we met him? We bumped into each other a lot after that, so we got close, you know?'' Taeyong nonchalantly replied, hand gestures and all to support his claim. You could only hum, accepting the reason as you don't really have the choice to do so.

''I see,'' Nodding, you didn't pay any attention to them again, munching on your food with hopes of brushing off the uncomfortableness. Minutes had passed by and Mark excused himself for a smoke break, pulling Taeyong with him as according to the young man, he still have a lot to share.

While the two departed from the table, you were left with Jaehyun who was busy typing away on his phone. Which was honestly, something that you're thankful for, because ''God, this is so boring-- I felt like dying.''

''Talk to me, then,'' You swivel around, surprised by Jaehyun's mumble, only to see him still focusing on his screen with his eyebrows scrunched to the middle. Tilting your head a little, you convinced yourself that maybe you've heard him wrong.

Continuing to finish your food, you wondered why the two were taking so long, Taeyong doesn't even smoke, he already quited a long time ago. Thoughts kept running through your head as you chewed, and maybe, you should've kept them to yourself. It was too late before you realized that you've voiced out what you were thinking, ''Super awkward,'' Even prolonging that letter 'a' with the urge to express it passionately.

You, then swore, heard Jaehyun mumbling under his breath again, ''Maybe if you didn't bring your little boyfriend with you,'' But when you gave him a brief glance, he was talking to his phone, the speaker directly at his mouth as if to emphasized that he was on a call.

Feeling like he was targeting you, though knowing it was immature, you still replied without even having the sureness that his comments were to specifically attack you. ''Oh who wouldn't love to bring my boyfriend everywhere? He's just so sweet,'' Hiding your smirk behind the napkin being pat to your lips, looking down a second before peeking at his reaction.

Your smirk widened when you saw how his eyebrow raised in question and his facial expression seemed to be irritated. What made you laugh was the way he so subtly scoffed, whispering ''Sweet, my ass.''

A clearing of throat was heard as the two men sat beside you again. The little test of yours wasn't done but it was enough for you to know that Jung Jaehyun was still affected by you.

The night had come after a very long day and you were unfortunate to not bringing your own car, so you were stuck with waiting for a car that you booked online. Yuta had warned you not to use these kind of apps as it will increase the possibilities of having your address leaked and of course, a stalker. But you don't really have a choice right now, given that it's very dark outside and you've got no one to ask help, Taeyong who was your one call away was currently at the other end of the earth.

Almost pass 20 minutes, you've gotten impatient and near to disturb Yuta to come pick you up when a black BMW car pulled up in front of you. Preventing yourself to squeal in glee, you tiptoe to steal a peek through the passenger side's rolling down windows, expecting a driver looking guy but instead was greeted by a CEO with a stern face, looking ahead and not moving at all.

You blinked the confusion away, not believing what you were seeing, only snapping out of your trance when Jaehyun turned to you, ''Does your manager know you're still here?''

Putting up a facade, you replied with your chin up, ''Yes, he does.''

''Is he picking you up?'' You hated how that eyebrow of his was so intimidating.

''Yes.. Of course, he will,'' You almost pinched yourself when you felt your voice almost shaking, wondering you felt so nervous around him.

Hearing him let out a short scoff, you saw him rolled his eyes a bit before settling his left hand on the window he just rolled down, playing with his lips as he looked ahead. His right hand whose fingers were tapping stopped after a minute. Jaehyun faced you again, his arms remaining where they were, ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, is he picking you up?''

You pondered a bit, thinking of the consequences of whatever decision you might follow. Whilst doing that, it appeared that you were taking quiet a long time when Jaehyun thought your silence meant no so he slowly drove away from where you stood.

''It's okay, I still have a booked car,'' Breathing out, you opened your phone with ease inside you, just to be greeted by the word cancelled at the bottom part in massive bold red text, as if mocking you for making the wrong decision.

It was as though you were cursed with bad luck because of how everything doesn't go to your way today. Before you could even wish that someone you know will pull up in front of you and pick you up, the same BMW car showed again, honking once, rolling down his window.

''Get in,'' was all he said, not even giving a glance. You don't want to risk the chances of getting left alone again despite the urge to reject the offer so you climbed up and settled beside the person whom you didn't expect to have this kind of interaction one more time after those years.

You felt his stare, judging and observing you. Gulping, you didn't know how to react, your eyes shaking as you tried to figure out why Jaehyun was staring at you.

Answers were given yet multiple questions appeared when he slowly leaned towards you, getting closer and closer as seconds passed by until you could feel his breath panning against your cheeks. You turned to face him in confusion, reaching out to put a barrier between the both of you using your palms when you heard a click  you, followed by Jaehyun settling back to his own seat, placing his arm on the open window again while the other was on the handle.

It was only then when you realized that he was buckling the seatbelt for you, the realization made you clear your throat out of nowhere, ''You should've just told me,'' You declared, wanting to convey that you didn't liked what he did one bit.

''I would if you weren't too busy inspecting my car,'' He said nonchalantly, spinning the handle with his right hand, looking side by side to make sure he wasn't gonna hit something. You might hit him though by how the way he replied to you, it irritated you for no reason.

A pregnant silence filled the car as you watched through the window, it was only broken when Jaehyun suddenly spoke, ''Do you want something?'' Your eyes diverted to him full of accusations and hits of malice.

He raised an eyebrow at your expression, ''Don't be so full of yourself, I'm just hungry. It would be disrespectful of me if I didn't asked you,'' God, why was he acting like this? It was like you're dealing with a teenager going through puberty, hence the annoyance and the endless comebacks.

Rolling your eyes, you were about to shake your head to reject the offer when your stomach grumbled loudly, announcing how you haven't eaten anything since morning. Glancing at Jaehyun, you don't know if your eyes were just playing with you but you might've seen him stifling a smile behind the fingers that was playing with his lips.

''Mcdonald's?''

''Yes, thank you.''

Embarrassment took over you to the point where you just wanted the floor to swallow you and never spit you out. Fronting as something or someone was harder than you thought, especially in front of someone who knew you well. Maybe even more than yourself.

You were definitely more than glad to have reached your building, you've tried to lessen your interaction with that man after the 'grabbing some food' scene but you couldn't avoid it as you had to tell him where you lived.

Mumbling a simple 'thanks' was all you did before getting out of the car and rushing inside the building, sighing in relief when you've entered your apartment. The day was tiring enough for you to immediately washing up and going straight to bed.

Morning came and what had greeted you was multiple calls and texts from your surely angry manager, accompanied by Taeyong's consistent knocks on your door. ''Bro, I swear to God-- if you don't fucking wake up--'' Shooting up, you quickly opened it, scared of what he may do as the last time he said that, he threw a bucket of an ice cold water at your peaceful sleeping figure.

You did your routine much quicker, even skipping a few of them that wasn't crucial to your hygiene before dragging Taeyong out of the couch to your car. Thankfully, you arrived at the photoshoot earlier than you expected, you were still late though. ''You owe me a coffee,'' Whispered by Taeyong before he left you for another schedule.

Bringing Yuta with you to the coffee shop might be a wrong decision as you always ended up paying for the drinks, him reasoning that it was your payment for making him do those extra works, which you agreed to. Zipping your bag open, you rummage through it to look for your wallet but it wasn't where you've always put it.

Tsking, you explored the other parts of your bag, yet no signs of your wallet was seen nor felt. Yuta might've sensed it as he walked towards you to ask what's wrong, you told him about it, resulting in him asking where you've last put it.

''I promise, it was just right here,'' You said with panic, still searching.

''Inside your bag? Where did you put it last night, then?'' Recalling, you've put in on your bedside, given that you were too tired. You still had it when you and Jaehyun brought food-- bells rang inside you as a light bulb seemed to lit up above your head. Jaehyun! You could recall a small tud sound when he buckled your belt, that should be your missing purse.

''I.. I might've left it in my apartment, I'll wire it to you once I get home,'' Giving him a sheepish smile, you received a look full of suspicion from Yuta, nodding at him to assure. With your manager paying for the drinks, you were now left with the problem you didn't want to face.

How were you gonna contact Jaehyun and ask for your purse back?

The sound of a couch rustling barely passed through your ears, getting your attention from the focus of posing in front of the camera to the corner of the room, you slightly caught a sight of someone in a suit with his legs crossed. It was no brainier of who it was sitting with such overpowering aura, there was only one man who you knew could do it.

His were boring to you as you followed the instructions of the director, acting all lovey dovey with your co-model, showing the products through placing them on your partner's face lovingly. ''Can we do more?'' The director requested in which you two followed. Your coworker's, Haechan, arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he rubbed his nose with the product with yours, creating a soft and domestic moment.

The staffs cooed at the actions, absolutely satisfied by the chemistry you're radiating. From your peripheral, you saw the way Jaehyun's jaw tightened, his hands tapping his knee continuously before he made the decision of standing up and leaving the scene.

As if on cue, only a few scenes were took before the director announced the end of the photoshoot, thanking and praising everyone for the job. You made your way to change clothes as the sando and denim shorts were too thin for your liking, the cold breeze of the air condition seeping through the fabric.

Reaching for the hem of your top, you stopped your motions when you heard the door opened, a certain CEO entered. His eyes fell on you, he didn't hesitated nor had second thoughts as he stride to your way slowly, hands caressing his wrist before fixing his cuffs.

Wanting to avoid him, you stepped backwards but was unfortunately met with the edge of the counter where the makeups were placed. Not getting any time to walk away as boh of his hands were settled at either side of your body, caging you in, cornering you as his eyes searched for yours.

The silence thickened, your gulp and breathing were heard along with the buzzing of the AC. Gripping the edge with your hands, you failed to lean backwards as the CEO lowered his head, making you face him directly.

The time slowed down like some disney movie when your brain processed how Jaehyun moved closer and closer, his fingers brushing your waist that electrified your body, pursing your lips as you placed a hand to his chest to stop him.

Not really knowing why, you felt humiliated by how he chuckled lowly at your action, biting his lower lip before bringing his face close enough that you could feel his breath fanning your nose. Your own voice got caught in your throat when you tried to grumble a protest, only producing a squeak.

His lips hovered above yours, forming a smirk, decreasing the distance little by little until there was a centimeter gap left. You gulped for the nth time, it was so close yet still so far. With your hand forming a fist, you scrunched a part of his dress shirt along with it.

Jaehyun's lips moved upwards a bit, stopping once he decided the movement was enough. He observed your face a little, detecting any uncomfortableness. All be damned when he didn't detect anything. Proceeding to place his lips at the tip of your nose lightly and softly, pulling away as the door opened just in time.

''Sir? Have you found your watch?'' Jaehyun hummed at his employee's question, stretching his hand to reach for something behind you, putting it on his wrist and wearing it again.

You heard him whisper before walking out of the room, ''Should've never left something so important,'' It was only you who could sense that he wasn't only talking about the watch.

You left the venue with a lot of thoughts floating in your mind, one of them being what will happen next?

Taeyong's sharp gasp pierced your ears, hand over his mouth as if he couldn't believe what his screen had projected, ''What's up with you?'' You asked him, giving him a glare mixed with wonder. ''Did you just denied our lovely, perfect and healthy relationship?!'' He pointed at you with so much accusations, mouth wide open, it was as if you've been convicted to a capital crime.

''What relationship?'' Eyebrows scrunched to the middle, you reached to peek what he was looking at, there you saw the big bold letters about how the dating issue between you and Taeyong weren't true. ''Dude, I did not deny nothing,'' It was the truth, you're too caught up with your current projects that you even forgot about the said 'scandal'.

You shushed Taeyong when your phone rang, displaying Yuta's name, sliding the answer button and placing the speaker on your ear. ''The photos came out,'' He announced.

With your eyebrows creased to the middle, you responded, ''And so?'' Not sure as to why he was telling you this. ''Well..'' By the tone, your eyes already rolled to the back of your head, knowing that this meant his usual request. Already detecting your reaction, he urged you to listen first, ''Wait wait! To be fair, this is for your another project, okay? Plus, It's a really really good one. If you want proof, I'm currently with Taeyong!''

''He's right beside me, what're you talking about?'' Screaming at your ear enabled his voice to be heard even without being on speaker, ''Dumbass,'' Taeyong muttered under his breath.

You heard him pause, you could almost hear his reasons being picked, ''I mean-- Taeyong's with me in this project, he was the one who told me about this certain someone wanting you on the runway,'' Shaking your head in disbelief, you don't have any clue as why he was lying to you but having so much trust with the man, you couldn't care less.

''Whatever, what favor would you want me to do this time?'' Yuta let out a small giggle, wondering if he asked favors this frequently that you already knew what was about to come.

''Can you pick up the hard copies?''

''Why do we need the hard ones? Can't you just like-- send it through emails or something, it's 2023.''

''Nah, the company wanted a hard copy.''

''Is it necessary? Really?''

''Yes, it is.''

''Fine, where will I pick it?''

That's how you ended up in front of the oak wood door with the word Chief Executive Officer plastered in it, gripping the sling of your shoulder bag as you changed weight from one leg to another in an attempt to brush off the nervousness bubbling inside of you.

Knocking against it, you saw the light on the door handle turned green, indicating that it was unlocked and you can freely enter. Twisting the handle, you slowly stepped a foot after foot inside the huge room, the same placement of things met your eyes, not even one being moved.

Except for the atmosphere surrounding the space, it was more of one where you could focus on your work and one that could tell anyone not to disturb the person inside. You expected him to be surprised as he looked but it seemed like the opposite when his eyes met yours as you took a seat in front of him placing his pen down as he greeted you formally and you greeting him back. Awkward, to say the least. Yet you're certain, he anticipated your arrival.

''Yuta had told me I had to get the hard copy of the outcome as my agency requested it, your employees led me here,'' You explained, rapping the words and almost stutter in the middle. Jaehyun made a buzzing sound with his mouth-- a hum, nodding before standing up and making his way to one of the drawers settled by the wall. He took out a folder, walking back to you and stretching his forward. You received the folder with a 'thank you', wanting to leave the room right away.

''I'm surprised you came alone today,'' Out of nowhere, Jaehyun commented that gained a snort from you, recalling his childish tantrum about bringing Taeyong with you everywhere. He placed his palms on the table as he leaned backwards, giving his legs time to relax while he put most of his weight on his arms.

''What? Were you expect my little boyfriend to come with me?'' You diverted your eyes at him with a challenging look, seeing how he hid the way he gulp made you gain confidence.

Shaking his head no, Jaehyun replied, ''You mean your best friend?'' Ah, so he'd seen the news as well, huh? You could've mistaken the glare of his for something near hope and assurance, as if he wanted you to confirm that Taeyong was nothing but a friend to you.

There was no reason not to lie, given the fact that he wasn't someone important in your life no more but you didn't. Instead, you did confirmed his claim, wanting to see what his next love will be. Your lips curving up to a smirk, ''Yeah, my best friend-- slash boyfriend.''

Jaehyun reciprocated your smirk, he got on his feet fully once again, taking steps closer to you. His torso faced your head because of his height, you didn't looked up-- you don't want to. But his fingers ever so gently brushed against your chin, tilting them upwards so he could see the view of your face clearly.

''Still lying, I see,'' The way he towered over you and his fingers holding your chin with care, it was too familiar. So familiar that what was about to come next was inevitable, your body already giving in without any protest.

The fingers moved upwards, expanding the skinship from his fingers to his whole palm settling at the side of your face. He bent down to your level, facing you directly as he kept the eye contact, not blinking in fear that he wouldn't catch a glimpse of what he wanted to see from you.

Sounds became mumbled, feeling the whole world stopped spinning as Jaehyun's pillowy lips pressed slowly and softly against yours after years. Your eyes, as if instinctively, closed, memories rushing back at you with the contact you knew your body was longing for.

He pulled away after what seemed to be an eternity, his eyes full of fondness and hope met your doe ones, thumb caressing your cheek gently as he heaved a sigh. ''Tell me to stop,'' Jaehyun whispered, gulping for the nth time.

''Tell me you don't want this,'' The CEO's brown orbs plead you to do so, wanting everything except invade your privacy and disrespect you. Instead of hearing what he wanted, his mouth that was slightly ajar were once again in contact with yours, pouring all your unsaid feelings to the kiss as you circled your arms on his neck.

You heard him mumbled against your lips, ''Fuck,'' His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you up with him and making you settle on top of his table, a much comfortable height for the both of you.

The kiss deepened with passion, the urge to have each other close even when there's no gap to decrease no more. Your hands reached the hem of Jaehyun's dress shirt, tugging at it causing a fond laugh from the man. Taking off his top, the muscled body made you drool, it was definitely more buffed than the last time you saw it. Your hands traveled from his neck to his waist, placing kisses to his chest while he reached out behind you, locking the door with a single click from the buttons beside his telephone.

You licked a stripe on his nipples, earning a groan from him as his hand went through your hair, hesitating to grip them-- not wanting to hurt you. But Jaehyun, out of all people, should know how you love pain in sex. It seemed like he remembered that, because with just one look from you, his lips curved up at the same time as his hand formed a fist, injecting pain with pleasure to you. Your smile told him everything he needed to know.

He kissed you one more time before moving his kisses to your neck, sucking and licking but careful enough not to leave obvious marks, although you slightly wished he did.

Unbuttoning your cropped cardigan, his eyes were blessed to see the sight of your breasts barely covered by your bra, he slowly slid it off your shoulder, appreciation seeping through his pecking of your skin along the way.

He, next, worked on your square pants, not having any difficulty in taking it off as it slid so effortlessly off of you, presenting a sight he longed for so long. Jaehyun traced every curves of your body with pressing his lips softly against them, taking a deep breath as he pulled away for a moment, staring at you with so much admiration that you felt blush creeping up your cheeks.

''So fucking beautiful,'' The CEO unbuckled your bra and held the waistband of your underwear between his fingers, with you taking the initiative of getting your bra off. He kneeled down, giving your inner thigh a few kisses before reaching to the center of your two legs. Jaehyun ate your pussy out as if he was making out with your lips, his tongue were all over and his face turning sideways multiple times in an attempt to reach further.

Cursing, you spread your legs open to give him space, yet his hands stopped you, grabbing each side, putting them on his shoulder, not letting it get far away from him in any way. You forgot how Jaehyun loved the thigh burned he got everytime he ate you out.

Deprivation can be shown by how he sucked on your clit, middle finger working their way in and out of you with a squelching sound. ''Jaehyun, fuck,'' God, how he loved the way you moaned his name. He had been wanting to hear that since then, only settling for porn actors as he couldn't afford having you in his arms again.

But that changed today, you're here right now. Caged in his arms, moaning in pleasure, screaming for more with no hints of protest, Jaehyun couldn't ask for more.

Placing your hand in his strands, you pulled a little and Jaehyun knew you too well to remember that this was a telltale sign of you coming close, he maybe can't see it but he knew that your back was currently arched as you squeezed his head between your legs, jerking a few times before he felt your salty juices on his tongue.

He groaned in satisfaction, licking and wanting for more, he just couldn't get enough of it. As much as he loved the taste of you though, Jaehyun couldn't ignore the ache and throb of his cock inside his pants, as well as your pleas of having him despite just coming down from your previous high.

Getting on his feet, he picked you up with little to no struggle, bringing you as he laid you down on the couch. You failed to notice how his hand were unbuckling his belt, throwing it far from you two, moving to his button and taking off his whole pants.

When you've realized that his bottom were thrown away, your hand palmed his bulge through his boxer almost right away, head still quiet caught by how Jaehyun were eating your neck, surely having a hard time not placing marks.

''Come on, Jae,'' You urged him, kissing him in tongues as you circled your legs on his waist, grinding up against his clothed cock, gaining a low moan from him. ''Want my cock, babe?'' The cockiness in his tone and the annoyingly smirk on his face matched the size of his cock. It was way beyond the average, bonus points that he knew how to use it well.

Nodding, you grind harder, expressing your want with your actions causing Jaehyun to chuckle lowly. You soon, felt his bare tip on your pussy lips, teasing you as it slid up and down but never entering you just yet.

You grumbled in impatience, wanting to slap off the smirk on Jaehyun's face, ''Bratty, huh?'' Dominance took over his deep voice, his hand went to grip your thigh as the other caressed your cheeks. You couldn't take the intimacy of Jaehyun's stare so you decided to look where you two meet.

Gulping, you used the begging expression you knew he loved so much, ''Please, Jae,''

He cursed at the sight of you begging for him, again, ''Fuck, you just know how to get me, don't you?''

Slowly, Jaehyun pushed inside of you, his length stretching your walls with its width and girth, you ignored the ache taking over you, pleading him to go all in.

Yet the CEO only shook his head, kissing you softly, stroking your sides inna comforting manner. It reminded you of your first sex with him, always distracting you from the pain and only letting go when it was time for pleasure.

That was exactly what he need, starting with slow pace before picking it up bits by bits, letting you adjust to his size as his hips jerked harsher each thrust, reaching deeper into you. You threw your head back, exposing yourself fully to Jaehyun, giving him access to everything, his hands went to hold your throat but retreated, moving to your breasts as he fondled them, licking and nibbling, giving the same amount of attention to each.

Maybe it was because of your last orgasm or maybe it was due to how Jaehyun thrusted feverishly inside you, hitting directly to your sweet spot, sending you to an overwhelming feeling of addicting euphoria that you don't ever want to escape from. You don't know which but surely, one of them was the reason you felt another climax crashing down on you once again.

Screaming and chanting Jaehyun like a mantra, you unconsciously dug your nails in Jaehyun's back, earning a hiss from the man as lines of red was painted on his skin, giving him extra pleasure other than the delicious clenching of your walls around his veiny shaft.

''Oh my god, Jaehyun!'' You shut your eyes tightly, holding Jaehyun close as you locked his hips with your legs, grasping his biceps when you've felt your climax finally breaking, your body shaking from the intensity. Feeling overstimulated when Jaehyun's hips didn't stopped from moving, reaching his own high. He immediately pulled away, jerking his cock, with him whining your name, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth fell open, white strings coming out of his tip, landing on your stomach.

When he came back to his senses, he stood up from the couch, walking around to grab some tissues, wiping the remains of him on you, mumbling, ''Sorry for that.''

It was hard for you to determine if he was talking about the cum on your stomach or the relationship that failed, caused by pride and greed.

''So.. are you two now dating?'' Taeyong asked with confusion evident in his tone, followed by a nod from Mark, Yuta and Johnny. You laughed with Jaehyun, sharing a look before answering, ''I guess? Maybe?''

Mark's eyebrows furrowed, ''What kind of answer is that?'' The man beside you sheepishly smiled, reflecting yours, ''The kind of answer, we will give you everytime you ask us.''

That was the last thing they've received from your pair as you already skipped away from the scene, hands tangled together, wearing smiles brighter as ever. ''They definitely, are back together,'' Johnny declared.

''Congrats to us, and our efforts then!'' Mark cheered, raising his glass of beer for a click in which the others followed. ''Jaehyun owe us a lot,'' Yuta reminded his fellows with a shake of his head.

Getting back together with Jaehyun, it made you realized a lot of things. Such as your faults, his wrongdoings and the areas you two had lacked to fulfill. You decided to try again, the both of you.

But this time, with much understanding and patience for each other. You've figured out the importance of them in a relationship, playing vital roles in keeping it healthy and functioning.

The love now overpowered the pride.

''I'm so sorry, for not giving you a chance, for not letting you in, for belittling your problems, and for pushing you away.''

''I'm sorry, for pressuring you to open up, for making you feel obligated to share even when you're not ready yet, and for giving up with knowing well how you're going through something severe.''

''I'm sorry for everything, because when you left, it was only then when I realized that-- while I was busy chasing the stars, I was losing you.''

You both decided to try again, but this time, without pride and greed. Replacing it with love and understanding, especially now with Taeho and Taehee officially joining your little family.

[thelaurenshippen]

finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

[scekrex]

Male!reader x Adam NSFW prompt.. (I love these two..)

maybe an inexperienced reader x Adam but like it's their first time?? I think it could make some pretty good fluff too!

Oh fuck yeah that's good! I'm so fucking sorry that it took me so incredibly long to write this but! this is probably the longest thing I've ever written. Enjoy 3.3k words of smut

Let's make a mess and cross the line, you and me a masterpiece

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, anal sex

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

All those stupid instagram posts that had stated ‘No one dies a virgin, life fucks us all’ might’ve been true, yet none of these posts coudl’ve prepared you for the first sexual experience ever. Because despite the jokes the posts had been cracking, you had in fact died as a virgin and therefore you had only the slightest idea of what you were supposed to do. Good thing Adam was on the experienced side when it came to this - he had been bragging about how all of his sexual partners had always experienced an orgasm when they had been with him, how true those words were, you didn’t know, but you trusted him and his skillful mouth enough to believe his words. For now.

“Just fucking lay down and let the dickmaster do the fucking work, babes,” the brunette said and therefore gave you a task - something to work with, even if that meant to just lay down. It was something easy you could do. “Are you sure? I want you to enjoy this t-” the first man interrupted you by grabbing your jaw firmly yet soft enough to not hurt you - he wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible and scaring you by being too harsh wouldn’t help at all. “Babes,” his usually playful tone was all gone, all that you heard in his voice was seriousness, “I will, okay? Fucking lay down.” And as he spoke those words, his free hand came to first rest on your chest, then he started to press you down until your back hit the mattress. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you felt the softness of the fitted sheet against your naked skin. Fuck, were you really going to do this? Yeah, yeah you were and despite having only the slightest idea on how to act, you were okay. Like you knew how this would work out - two men having sex - you weren’t stupid after all. You had seen it in porn, you had read about it in books, you knew how this would go, you knew how it worked in general, but reading about it and doing it felt worlds apart now that you were about to lose your virginity. Yet Adam seemed to notice your inner conflict and he sighed as he lifted his hand from your chest and let go of your jaw, his once firm touch turned soft as he stroked your side up and down with his left hand, sitting next to you like a god - though you knew he wasn’t, he surely lived up to the angelic status. “You need to relax,” he hummed as his golden eyes roamed over your body, watching your muscles twitch under his gaze. He looked at you like you were the only one for him, like you were all he’d ever need, all he’d ever want. He looked at you with love, love he only had for you, love he would never give to somebody else. “Otherwise it’s gonna hurt,” and while that was all he voiced out loud, you heard the unspoken ‘And I don’t wanna hurt you’ so loud and so clear inside your head that for a tiny moment, you thought he had actually said those words.

You leaned into his touch like it was the most natural thing to do and listening to his soft voice brought comfort, you wanted him to keep talking yet you didn’t ask for it, would it be too much? Too weird? You didn’t know, all you knew was that you didn’t want to fuck this up. What if you overstepped by requesting too much and he would never want to have sex with you again? There were too many thoughts screaming inside your head, too many worries that took over your mind, that prevented you from relaxing because how could you relax when you had no idea what to do while Adam seemed to know it all? How were you supposed to bring pleasure to the first man when you didn’t know how? Sure, you could jerk him off but that wouldn’t be enough, would it?

The brunette watched you for a moment, watched as your muscles continued to twitch, how your body seemed so stiff, so far from relaxed and even though your eyes remained close, he could feel how unsure you were. “Y/N,” his voice was slightly louder than a whisper and if the room wouldn’t be as quiet as it was, you would’ve missed it, but oh how pretty your name sounded when it fell from his lips, he made it sound so holy, so divine. “We don’t have to fucking do anything.” That made you open your eyes, you lifted your head and looked him right in the eyes, that’s when he saw the worries that you were bottling up reflecting in your eyes. And he felt sorry for it, he felt sorry for the fact that he hasn’t got the words to offer you comfort - he has never been good with that. No one had ever comforted him so how was he supposed to know how to comfort other people? “You don’t want to?” was the first thing you asked, oh you were so scared of rejection, so afraid to not be good enough and Adam really hated the fact that he saw so much of himself inside of you. But while you were open about those feelings, he stored them deep inside, had locked them up and put on a cocky act to hide them as best as possible. Adam’s hand stopped at your waist, he grabbed a hold of it and pulled you a little closer to him, “I fucking want,” he replied quickly, assuring that he was indeed looking forward to having sex with you, “But do you?”

The question was left unanswered for a couple minutes, minutes you spent thinking. You did, that you were certain about, but you were also scared. So, so scared that you wouldn’t be good enough. “I-,” you interrupted yourself, breaking eye contact by tilting your head sideways, away from Adam. Dear God, why couldn’t you just tell him? It would make it so much easier, but you were also afraid of that because being afraid of having sex sounded so weird, so childish to your own ears - would he even understand? You didn’t know, on one hand you hoped he would on the other was Adam bragging about how good he was in bed - did he ever have any problems with having sex, has he ever felt as nervous as you were feeling? You doubted that.

The brunette waited for you to continue talking, he wanted to hear what you had to say. Though he thought he already knew, so he tried to help by voicing your feelings for you, “You’re scared.” And coming from him, it sounded so simple, like a small issue he could easily take care of. He managed to make it sound like the smallest problem in all of existence. “Yeah,” was your answer, spoken quietly, embarrassed by the fact that you were feeling the way you did. “That’s fucking okay,” was his response and even though he sounded genuine, you weren’t sure if you could believe his words. Because how could it be okay to be scared of having sex? There was not a single reason that justified your fear in the slightest bit and yet Adam acted like it was the most normal thing in the world - you really didn’t know if you hated or loved him for that. “We’re gonna take this fucking slow, babes,” the first man continued, “As fucking slow as you want.” He grabbed you by your upper arms and pulled your torso up, you were now sitting next to him again. “You’re gonna ride me,” and even though you knew he had his reasons for choosing a different position, you were even more scared of that sudden change. Now you were to do the work, after all. “That way you can pick the pace,” oh now that made a lot more sense and actually eased your worries at least a little bit. That way you had more control. “Okay.” And it seemed like it actually was okay.

The brunette got up to strip himself out of his underwear, then he sat down next to you again and you really couldn’t help but stare because how in the name of the mighty lord above was this about to fit inside of you? There was simply no way he’d fit all of it in - was that even important now? Probably not, yet to you it kinda was. Because how was this supposed to feel good for Adam when- The first man interrupted the train of thoughts that were running through your head by grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Less fucking thinking and more focusing on me, babes.” You looked him in the eyes, gave him a small nod and then started to crawl up in his lap, once seated somewhat comfortably, you tilted your head to look up to him, “So uhm, am I just gonna…?” As you spoke you carefully wrapped one hand around his dick, causing a muffled moan to fall from his lips as he watched your every move. You were about to lift yourself up by grabbing a hold of his shoulder, but he stopped you, pushing you back down again, “I’m not gonna fuck your brains out without fucking preparation.” Normally he’d snap his fingers and get to the part where his dick would get wet, but he wanted to prepare you properly, not only because it was your first time in general, but also because it was the first time for the both of you together, he wanted this to be memorable, he wanted to please you in all the right ways, show you that there was nothing to be afraid of, that this was all about pleasure.

So he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted your body up effortlessly, his free hand found its way to your ass, he got you used to his touch first my playfully squeezing your ass cheeks, then he slowly moved his index finger towards your entrance, giving you more than enough time to mentally prepare for what was about to come, with the hand he used to hold your body up he snapped his fingers, the cool liquid that was suddenly covering your entrance and his fingers made you flinch, it had been so unexpected yet it didn’t cause you to feel uncomfortable. As his index finger started to circle your hole, he hummed, “Don’t forget to fucking breathe, don’t want ya cute ass to pass out.” And that made you smile a little, his comment made the air feel less heavy and took some of the seriousness away - how he had done it? You had no clue. And then he slowly pushed his finger past the ring of muscles and you inhaled deeply, kept the air inside of your lungs until it started to burn, then you exhaled. The brunette watched you carefully, because while he was impatient to fuck your brains out, to make you feel divine, he also wanted to go slow on you - for now. Once his entire finger found its place inside of you, Adam spoke up again, “I won’t fucking move unless you say so. Take your sweet fucking time getting used to it, babes.” And while you felt like you should get used to it as quickly as possible to not keep him waiting longer than necessary - the hard dick in your hand twitched in excitement - you also trusted his words and took them to heart.

It took you a while to get used to the new feeling, to the feeling of being filled up, because while you had done that to yourself in the past out of pure curiosity, being opened up by somebody else - let alone your partner - felt so different, so much better. So you gave him the okay to move his finger and he was eager to comply, the thrusts were soft and slow they gave you time to adjust, to get used to it. Then the tip of his second finger brushed against your entrance and you swallowed hard, you knew the second finger would bring pain, that it would start to stretch you open properly, you were also aware of the fact that the second finger wouldn’t be the last - especially not with the size of Adam’s dick. “Relax babe#s,” Adam hummed as the hand that he didn’t try to bury in your ass came up to slightly tilt your head upwards, forcing your eyes to meet his. “I’m not gonna hurt your handsome ass, got it?” and while to others his words would sound harsh, maybe even insensitive, you knew that this was the most sensitive and ensuring he could offer, he tried his best to make you feel confident about having sex for the first time and you silently thanked him by nodding at his words. You knew he would not purposely hurt you, that has never been the problem in the first place, yet you were absolutely nervous about the natural burning pain that would follow soon as his second finger slowly started to enter you. But the pain never came and when you seeked for an answer in Adam’s eyes as to why that was, the first man gave you a familiar cocky smile and a promising wink, “Told you I won’t hurt your fucking ass.” And that you had to give him, there was no pain. At all. Not when the second finger had entered you, not when the brunette decided it was time for the third finger and even the fourth finger went in effortlessly without bringing any kind of discomfort with it.

“I think,” you whispered, hands on his hips as you gently fucked yourself up and down his fingers, the feeling of being sp full was still a little strange but the longer Adam kept his fingers buried inside of you, the more used yo u got to the feeling and the easier it was for you to let loose and give up some control, to let lust and desire take over. “I think I’m ready,” your voice was quiet as you finished your sentence, a thing Adam did not like since he’d rather see you filled with confidence, but he understood - or at least he tried his best to do so. A grin met your unsure eyes, “Yeah? Think you can take the og dick like you were fucking made for it?” The way he worded it made you shiver a little, because that was exactly what you wanted, you wanted for your body to swallow your lover’s dick like God had created you to do so. And so you gave Adam a firm yet silent nod, the grin that appeared on his lips at your reaction was almost devilish, “Words, babes.” - “Yes.”

That simple word was enough for Adam to withdraw his fingers and line his dick up against your entrance, before he pushed you down onto his erection, something deep within his eyes shifted, “If it gets too fucking much, tell me. Immediately.” And as soon as he heard another, “Yes,” from you, he slowly started to push your hips down, inch by inch, taking his time. He dug his nails in the soft flesh of your waist to keep him from bottoming out, he held onto every little bit of self control he was able to find within himself, he wanted this to last. Not only that though, he also wanted you to enjoy your first time with him, he wanted you to show you all he had to offer while also making sure you got pleasure from it. So he forced himself with all the willpower his body held to go as slow as possible.

His eyes were locked onto yours, making sure that the only emotions reflecting from them were positive ones, angelic magic be blessed for taking the pain away from you. And then your ass cheeks finally pressed themselves against his hips and Adam had managed to bury himself inside of you entirely without hurting you at all. Your face was scrunched up from the pleasure and the feeling of being filled up - his dick felt so much better, so much more fitting than his fingers. Just as the brunette wanted to check in with you and make sure you were okay you started to move your hips upwards, then you sunk down again and instead of checking on you, the first man moaned out a curse and tilted his head backwards. His reaction filled you with confidence and you repeated your motion as Adam’s nails dug deeper into your soft flesh. He tried his best to hold onto the remaining self control - to no avail though. It only took him a couple seconds before he started to eagerly meet your moves halfway through. His hips made no contact with the mattress anymore, he was too needy, too eager to bury himself inside of you over and over again. Your hands held onto his shoulders in order to make it easier to push yourself up and down. “Fuck, so fucking good,” the first man mumbled as his desperate eyes seeked your confident ones, that look he liked way better on you, especially because the confidence in your eyes was clouded by desire and neediness. You needed him to fill you up just as badly as he wanted to stain your insides with his cum.

The slow yet precise movements with which it had started grew quicker and sloppier with each thrust, with each moan and cry for more. And then the tip of Adam’s dick brushed against a spot that caused you to arch your back and your mind was filled with one thought only. You wanted Adam in every way possible, wanted him to dick you down, fill you up, make you see stars. You wanted him to rail your brains out but your lips were not able to voice those desires of yours, so you simply quickened the pace of your hip movement. A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as your hips tried to quicken the pace, the brunette’s hands on your hips prevented you from doing so. While normally he would enjoy a quicker and rougher pace, for your first time with him he wanted to keep it a little softer, wanted to not fuck your ass sore. You on the other hand seemed to have other plans. As his dick continued to press against that sweet spot inside of you, your hands nails dug into Adam’s shoulders as you pushed your body up and down as forcefully as possible - which basically meant as forceful as Adam let you. “Chill the fuck out, babes, ym dick ain’t going fucking nowhere, you can fuck yourself silly on it for the rest of fucking eternity,” the brunette huffed out breathlessly as he finally loosened his grip and let you set the pace to something more rough and harder, to something quicker and sloppier. Oh and how the both of you were enjoying it, Adam getting lost in the tight heat that surrounded his dick and you losing your mind as you pushed your body up and down Adam’s dick. It felt like you were high on drugs - not that you ever really did drugs, but you imagined this would come close to smoking weed, everything the two of you did, every little movement, every noise, every breath you and Adam were taking - it all felt divine and holy. Like God had wanted it to happen right then and there.

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

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"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[thighzp]

WIP Wednesday and of course I'm back with more Vampire Alex! Good news (that I'm announcing for accountability purposes)... this fic will be posted NEXT WEEK! (Don't know what day yet so be on the lookout!)

I have some really exciting stuff lined up once this baby is finished and posted. This will be the longest fic I've ever written once it's finally done, and what's to come is going to be an entirely new adventure for us as well! (That announcement will come in a couple weeks)

Okay without further ado, y'all can thank @firstprincehornyramblings & @tailsbeth-writes for the early af tags today!

Two sudden, sharp pains dug right into where the throbbing had been earlier, and he found himself slipping. Fuzzy mental images of the party danced across his vision while the man dug those pointed nails in deeper. Henry felt a tickle where there was a droplet of what he could only assume was blood pouring from his neck. He’d have thought he’d be more scared to know the man was drawing his blood. But instead… Instead he leaned into the feeling, the dizziness. As his head became more empty of blood, his heavy eyelids trying to flutter open, he could see the man’s dark gaze as he watched the droplet. The brunette licked his lips at the sight. Fuck, Henry thought. Why is this doing it for me?

love giving you guys snippets from all over the place cause you have no idea the order of events of this thing lmao

tagging: @taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @judasofsuburbia @catdadacd @caterpills

@pinkamour1588 @sophie1973 @kiwiana-writes @porcelainmortal

@bitbybitwrites @stratocumulusperlucidus @sugarycloud1

[felkithecreator]

Do you have revalink fic recs?

Oh do I ever. (Please don't take the numbers that I use too seriously, they're not to really judge the quality of work or anything it's just level of enjoyment for me and my particular tastes)

My favorite Revalink fic of all time is Pinesong by aperplexingpuzzle!! Honestly it's just an absolutely amazing work, and personally I think it's one of the greatest post-calamity Revalink stories written. Link and Revali bond on Vah Medoh after Revali's been freed and exists as a spirit, and while Link struggles through the rest of his adventure. Absolutely recommend, 10/10.

Finding Link by Umbreonix is another one I'd absolutely recommend. It's so silly and just - the characterization of Link and Revali is so fun. Link goes missing after the defeat of Calamity Ganon, and it's up to Revali to find him and potentially bring him back. Honestly Umbreonix's other Revalink work Beating about the bush is also phenomenal - that one's unfinished, but it's also great if you want to read something silly. It's a modernized/human version of Hyrule, which is super interesting as well. All That Glitters is hilarious as well. Recommend them all around 8.5/10.

Linger On by ICanFlyHigher is one I genuinely loved as well. It's been a while since I've read it, but I do know that the vivid descriptions of combat and fighting, and just - the immersion of it is so impressive. So I'd really really recommend this one. It's basically just Botw, but you're really put in Link shoes + that extra touch of Revalink. Again, haven't read it in a while, but 9/10 recommendation from what I remember.

I Lost Myself by self_indulgent_authorship is amazing as well. I love reading from Revali's perspective, and just - the take on Link and Revali getting to know each other after Link's lost his memory is so interesting and refreshing. I wouldn't recommend it if you don't like a bit of Zelda-bashing, but I think this fic handles it well and it didn't feel as if it were over the top or anything. 9/10 recommendation.

Snow filled days by SharkPinata is a great one if you're just down for a fun time!! The author kind of took a concept/idea and ran with it, and the plot grew later - and it shows, a bit, but honestly that's part of the fun with this fic. A great thing about it is you can also see the author's writing style improve over time as they write (I desperately hope that the same can be said about my fics too), so it's fun in that aspect of well. The concept is that Link isn't a knight, and just lives in Selkie's Spot in Hebra - where Revali regularly comes to visit him because they're each other's only friends. 7.5/10 recommendation.

Shades of Blue also by self_indulgent_authorship is just fucking amazing. It's the normal botw journey, but you get so much more intricate lore and flashbacks than the OG game - one where Link and Revali knew each other before they became champions - and it's so so so so good. I genuinely think it's one of the greatest Breath of the Wild fics out there, regardless of Revalink. 10/10 recommendation.

Come Morning Light by misscoconi is great as well!! I haven't read it in a long while but I do know it's one of my favorites. It's very sweet - and it's where Link and Revali begin a shared sleeping arrangement. (Meet Me Halfway is the sequel, also very good.) 10/10 recommendation.

The Longest Night by tirsynni is amazing. It's a relatively short fic, and it's unfinished, but it's still just - great. Trigger warning for some things, I'd definitely recommend reading the tags first, but like, I love. It's an interesting exploration of Link's psyche, and Revali's response to it. Honestly, anything by tirsynni tends to be amazing. 8/10 recommendation.

The Effect of the Illusion of Truth by GeryutheTzakandi!!! This is genuinely one of my favorite fics ever - it's so silly and funny and just an all-around good time. Small warning in that it's unfinished and hasn't updated since 2022, but like - I'd still give it a read because what is there is a fun time. It's a fic where Revali and Link decided to get married so that Link and Zelda don't have to. (And no, the two of them were not previously dating.) 10/10 recommendation.

(Another good one by GeryutheTzakandi is Deftly avoiding saying exactly what you mean - this one's hilarious, and Revali is surprisingly self-aware.)

Inertia by sincosma is a great exploration of how Link's amnesia affects the relationship between him and Revali - and what promises they made pre-Calamity. The memories are so interesting yet heart-breaking to read - but the happy ending makes it very much worth it. 9/10 recommendation.

A Seed of Song by Ginneke is adorable. I'm always a sucker for child fics/baby acquisition fics, especially if they're done well, and, well - this one is definitely done well. It's very cute - it's unfinished, but I still think it's worthwhile to read what's been written so far. The drama of Link not wanting to marry Princess Zelda is also very interesting. 7.5/10 recommendation.

Under the Stars by peterpiez is one of my favorites!! Honestly because it's one of the very few Revalink Linked Universe fics to exist. There's very little active Revalink, given most of it is just Link mourning and being retrospective in response to the lives and loves of the other Links, but I still really enjoyed. This is also unfinished, and I don't see the author ever updating it, but I still would recommend giving it a go.

The Last Song on the Wind by Inked_Jael is another incredible fic. There's so much worldbuilding, and insight to Link's thoughts, I just love this one so much. It's super interesting because it explores the politics and the different cultures of Hyrule. I know second-person style can sometimes throw people off, but I think it works really really well given the story - and also if you keep in mind that it's about Link, just... please read this. Their work needs more love. 10/10 recommendation.

a moment's respite by cottonmouthcandy is another one of my favorites. It's a bit of a sad read, because it's pre-calamity and you know what's coming for the champions in the future, but it's a story where you get to just enjoy with them their little vacation at the beach. It's just sweet, and nice. It's been a while since I've read it, though, so those are more just the vibes that I remember rather than the content of the story itself. 9/10 recommendation.

the wind through the flowers by HopeStoryteller is also just a silly, fun time. The boys go Modulga hunting. 7.5/10 recommendation.

I have more, and I would continue, but I kind of have a class in six hours and I need to sleep before then, so uh... yeah. I hope this satisfies you question!! But honestly please spread the love to these authors their works are just absolutely amazing.