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Zach @ _azucar_papi : IG
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shrimpari · 5 months
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Need procreate dream to be out 😭
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codenamexy · 2 years
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[pictures of the Splatoon 3 idol group and a speculative design from 2017. They share a number of similarities, from the Blue/Yellow color scheme and a few elements of the hair and clothes]
huh
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fybrooksashmanskas · 1 year
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Do you have a picture of Brooksie from high school or something around that lol I love him
I have something of an unwritten rule about not posting things that aren't reasonably easy to stumble across just by searching his name on public search engines, sites—and if it seems too personal, not in a professional enough context, etc, I usually skip it unless or until it shows up in places like that first.
So... sorry. Maybe if something shows up in an article at some point.
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Enhancing Spokane's Infrastructure: Spokane Asphalt Paving's Premier Services
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Introduction
In the heart of Spokane, Washington, the landscape is dotted with properties that demand reliable and durable asphalt solutions. Enter Spokane Asphalt Paving, a distinguished industry leader with over two decades of spokane asphalt paving experience in delivering top-notch asphalt services. Specializing in both residential and commercial projects, this premier provider has become synonymous with precision, durability, and community enhancement.
The Legacy of Spokane Asphalt Paving
With a robust legacy spanning more than 20 years, Spokane Asphalt Paving has established itself as a go-to choice for those seeking high-quality asphalt paving services in the Spokane area. The company's commitment to excellence is reflected in its wide array of offerings, including driveway paving, parking lot striping, and road repair. This legacy is built on a foundation of skill, dedication, and a passion for contributing to the growth and development of the Spokane community.
Unparalleled Expertise
What sets Spokane Asphalt Paving apart is its unparalleled expertise in the asphalt industry. The skilled team at the company boasts extensive knowledge and hands-on experience, ensuring that every project is executed with precision and professionalism. Whether it's a residential driveway or a large-scale commercial parking lot, the team is equipped with the latest industry techniques and tools to deliver exceptional results.
Residential Paving Excellence
One of Spokane Asphalt Paving's standout features is its dedication to residential paving projects. Understanding the importance of a well-maintained driveway for homeowners, the company takes pride in enhancing the aesthetic appeal and functionality of residential properties. From meticulous attention to detail in the paving process to providing durable solutions, Spokane Asphalt Paving ensures that homeowners receive a finished product that stands the test of time.
Commercial Paving Solutions
In addition to residential projects, Spokane Asphalt Paving is a trusted partner for commercial paving needs. The company understands the unique requirements of businesses when it comes to parking lots and roadways. Offering comprehensive services such as parking lot striping and road repair, Spokane Asphalt Paving contributes to creating a positive and professional environment for commercial establishments, ultimately benefiting the entire Spokane community.
Commitment to Customer Satisfaction
At the core of Spokane Asphalt Paving's philosophy is a strong commitment to customer satisfaction. The company recognizes that each project is unique, and customer needs vary. Therefore, they prioritize open communication, ensuring that clients are involved in every step of the process. This customer-centric approach has earned Spokane Asphalt Paving a stellar reputation and a loyal client base.
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Community Enhancement
Beyond delivering exceptional paving services, Spokane Asphalt Paving is deeply committed to enhancing the Spokane community. By contributing to the maintenance and improvement of local infrastructure, the company plays a vital role in the overall growth and prosperity of the region. As a responsible corporate citizen, Spokane Asphalt Paving actively participates in community initiatives, further solidifying its status as a trusted partner in Spokane's development.
Conclusion
Spokane Asphalt Paving stands as a beacon of excellence in the asphalt paving industry, combining years of experience with a dedication to precision, durability, and community enhancement. From residential driveways to spokane wa asphalt paving commercial parking lots, the company's expert team ensures that each project is executed with the utmost professionalism and attention to detail. With Spokane Asphalt Paving, clients can trust that their asphalt needs are in capable hands, contributing to the beauty and functionality of the Spokane community for years to come. Contact them today for reliable, efficient, and expertly executed asphalt projects.
#Enhancing Spokane's Infrastructure: Spokane Asphalt Paving's Premier Services#Introduction#In the heart of Spokane#Washington#the landscape is dotted with properties that demand reliable and durable asphalt solutions. Enter Spokane Asphalt Paving#a distinguished industry leader with over two decades of spokane asphalt paving experience in delivering top-notch asphalt services. Specia#this premier provider has become synonymous with precision#durability#and community enhancement.#The Legacy of Spokane Asphalt Paving#With a robust legacy spanning more than 20 years#Spokane Asphalt Paving has established itself as a go-to choice for those seeking high-quality asphalt paving services in the Spokane area.#including driveway paving#parking lot striping#and road repair. This legacy is built on a foundation of skill#dedication#and a passion for contributing to the growth and development of the Spokane community.#Unparalleled Expertise#What sets Spokane Asphalt Paving apart is its unparalleled expertise in the asphalt industry. The skilled team at the company boasts extens#ensuring that every project is executed with precision and professionalism. Whether it's a residential driveway or a large-scale commercial#the team is equipped with the latest industry techniques and tools to deliver exceptional results.#Residential Paving Excellence#One of Spokane Asphalt Paving's standout features is its dedication to residential paving projects. Understanding the importance of a well-#the company takes pride in enhancing the aesthetic appeal and functionality of residential properties. From meticulous attention to detail#Spokane Asphalt Paving ensures that homeowners receive a finished product that stands the test of time.#Commercial Paving Solutions#In addition to residential projects#Spokane Asphalt Paving is a trusted partner for commercial paving needs. The company understands the unique requirements of businesses when#Spokane Asphalt Paving contributes to creating a positive and professional environment for commercial establishments#ultimately benefiting the entire Spokane community.
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legalattorneyblog · 7 months
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A Heartfelt Birthday Wishes To an Esteemed Legal Luminary And A Philanthropist: Asiwaju Adegboyega Solomon Awomolo, SAN
With the utmost respect and admiration, I extend my heartfelt birthday felicitations to Asiwaju Adegboyega Solomon Awomolo, SAN (Vice Chairman Body of Benchers). Your life’s journey stands as a profound source of inspiration, characterized by your remarkable contributions to the legal field, humanity, and the nation of Nigeria. Your unwavering philanthropy commitment has given hope to countless…
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soweli-musi · 8 months
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you remind me of like, those videos of protogens going “merp”. Mostly because of the pfp
you're so real for this I'm flattered I think
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greenworldindia · 8 months
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Improve Your Career with Safety Diploma Training Courses in Algeria!
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cock-holliday · 10 months
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Someone on my idpol post put in the tags “I DO think cis people should tell everyone they are cis tho.” I don’t! I don’t think cis people should need to disclose it. I don’t think straight people need to disclose that. I don’t think anyone should be forced to reveal their gender and sexuality labels no matter what they are, actually!
“It’s bare minimum as an ally” It’s not!!!! They’re not required. They don’t have to. It’s not that they “should”, they very much should not unless they want to. Straight trans people exist, that you desperately want to “out” as an ally and not a member. Questioning people who haven’t made a decision and default to “straight” or “cis” shouldn’t be forced to reveal themselves to you.
A well-meaning asshole in one of my zoom classes once approached me for being one of the only people who didn’t add pronouns to my name and suggested I add pronouns to “show (I’m) an ally.” Buddy, not only am I trans, I am so trans that I was struggling so deeply to distinguish what pronouns I wanted to use, after changing them in the past, and not only use but use in a legal professional setting.
The absence of pronouns wasn’t an absence of support, it was keeping a private struggle private until I knew how I wanted to be addressed. The most bland ass cishet looking motherfucker in the world could be grappling with an identity so complex it would make you puke, OR they could be cishet and it would be equally none of your business until they decided to disclose.
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Getting Ahead in the Hybrid Work Era
Conrad Turner
Distinguished Visiting Professional, Waide Center for Applied Ethics         Fairfield University
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I keep a number of old letters from people who have been important to me. In one of them, a mentor from my college years wrote, “There are many satisfactions in life, but one of them is cultivating the skill subtly to deflate, circumnavigate or otherwise confuse and confound any stuffy civil servant you encounter (even if he is temporarily above you in the pecking order.)”
I tested that dubious philosophy when starting out in the private sector. I went around my direct supervisors to get ahead, building a personal relationship with their bosses to take unfair advantage. Sadly, it worked. Happily, instead of feeling satisfied I felt dirty. I gave it up and found a career where being more like myself offered a fair advantage.
Those years came back to me during a discussion last spring with fellow Distinguished Visiting Professionals and Fairfield alums. We were debating how to prepare students for the new era of hybrid work when someone raised a question about fairness: what happens when some employees commute to the office while others work remotely? Don’t the commuters have an unfair advantage in the competition to advance? That question resonated in the group. Still, I wondered. Can work environments ever be made fair?
Competition for advancement should be based on merit. But from what I’ve seen, whenever organizations try to squeeze out unfairness, some employees exploit whatever room for unfair advantage remains — they just get cagier about it. And there’s always plenty of room left.
Workplace policies and practices are designed to channel our baser instincts in the name of teamwork, efficiency and fairness. Real leadership, meanwhile, seeks to supplant those instincts with a sense of mission. It looks after the needs of those not present when decisions are being made. Such leadership is rare. While policies have improved over the years — we’ve seen progress in equal opportunity, for example — they are only as effective as the managers implementing them. And there always seemed to be employees exploiting loopholes — often through relationships — that made merit irrelevant. They in turn became our bosses, and the cycle continued.
My favorite “leadership” video of all time is (crude language alert) “D***s: Do you need to be one to be a successful leader?” It’s a fun watch. My takeaway is that to be a great manager, you must project strength and vision while remaining true to yourself, but be ready to take tough steps that let your reports know you’re serious. You’re not their friend, and you’re not trying to get them to like you. At the same time, you must always be listening and looking out for their needs. Be tough but supportive.
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The two must be in balance. My experience is a case in point. I made a career striving to be the guy others would want to work with again. Toughness didn’t come naturally to me, and when I looked after the needs of others, some saw that as an opening to take unfair advantage. That created extra work and stress, especially when I reached senior levels. I could see it unfolding each time but was too rooted in my personal style to change. Would better mentoring have helped me? Of course. But lucking into good mentors is just that: luck — an unfair advantage. We need a structured way to impart higher-level management skills and leadership values that is available to all. A logical time to do that is when future leaders are a captive audience in university.
Very few of us go on from college to become “great” leaders. But we all need to navigate a challenging workplace and one day lead it for the better. So here’s an idea: Like my college mentor, we should intentionally prepare students for the work environment as it is — often unfair. We should equip them to advance in it.
Unlike my mentor, we should instill higher values while helping students both to seek fair advantage and not be taken advantage of. They should be able to see unfairness coming, to spot it in themselves and others, and challenge it. They should know how to manage with strength while looking out for others, and to lead by radiating the mission. And they should be prepared to do these things in the hyper-complex world of hybrid work.
That kind of learning can’t be just theoretical. It must be experiential, through role plays with teams solving problems and designed to sensitize participants to the real-life dynamics of workplace (un)fairness. They should taste what it’s like to be tough yet look out for their people and to stand up for fairness. Feedback should help them see and change their behavioral patterns.
Which brings me back to hybrid work. Here would be my message to students: Ideally, you should prepare yourself to advance and, one day, manage and lead others in an unfair work environment, and do so in the office. I hated commutes and office interruptions; but if I were new to the workforce in the hybrid era, I’d be commuting — regularly. Why? Being face-to-face in the same room with your boss and colleagues will always be the gold standard for building trust. It’s how you have career-changing conversations that won’t happen virtually. It’s in the office that you can also find out what’s really going on behind the scenes — some of it unfair. It’s part of “getting ahead.”
Or rather, it’s how not to “fall behind.” Because I’ll bet your ambitious colleagues will be going into the office hoping for an advantage.
Isn’t that still unfair? Actually, no. Think of hybrid work as a level field where you must compete under changing conditions. That means telecommuting and commuting. The expectation to come to the office may be unspoken, but to you it should be clear.
Talking into a camera and microphone is not the same as being in the same room with your interlocutors. Each demands a different balance of competencies. If your bosses don’t see your abilities in all their dimensions, to them they may not exist. And in a world where great leadership is rare, if you think they’ll compensate for that blind spot and look out for you while you’re working only from home, think again. Finally, going into the office will be critical for seeing and challenging unfairness, which will always be a concern.
In a hybrid arrangement, going into the office may not be mandatory. But if you choose not to, be aware of what you might be giving up.
Conrad Turner served 32 years in 12 countries as a career member of the Foreign Service, attaining the rank of Minister-Counselor. A certified career coach, Conrad works with the Waide Center for Applied Ethics at Fairfield as a Distinguished Visiting Professional.
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cherryjuiceblues · 3 months
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𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 | 𝟓.𝟏
➯ Y/N SPENDS TOO MUCH TIME IN HER OWN HEAD WITHOUT HER DOMINANT AND HARRY’S WORRIED HE MIGHT SCARE HER OFF IF HE PROFESSES WHAT HE’S SO DYING TO SAY. ✰ dom!harry relationship wobbles. sexual content. dominant and submissive dynamics. daddy kink. tickling kink. squirting. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 9.7k ッ mutually beneficial masterlist
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Harry’s slacks are being fiddled with. Threads starting to fray from the incessant tugging of nervous fingertips.
And normally—normally—Harry wouldn’t have a problem with Y/N needing to keep her hands busy, or attempting to enmesh herself into his side. But today is different. And today, Harry’s patience is wearing thin.
He almost feels guilty. He knows Y/N doesn’t enjoy these situations, this atmosphere. He knows she was being kind when she said she’d like to come with him. He knows she’s been anxious since he asked her. 
But the frustration is winning tonight—the silent wish that she’d just stayed at home bouncing around the inside of his skull. It makes him feel mean; intolerant. And Harry is neither mean nor intolerant. Ever.
He doesn’t like to think it but… something isn’t working. Something is slowly turning into everything—and it sits heavy in his gut—heavy and foreign.
“Darlin’, hands in your lap, please.” His breath dances across Y/N’s temple and she shivers slightly; only enough for Harry to notice. It’s quiet, his voice, and she nods to herself—the tiniest jerk of her head—a silent apology as she smooths her clammy palms down her own thighs.
The dinner is boring—he’ll admit. But Harry isn’t one to let apathy show on his face when it matters and… right now, it matters. The business partners sitting before him, a husband and his wife, are perhaps two of the most important people Harry has had the displeasure of dealing with during his time as CEO. They’re more passionate than him, and loud when it matters—they’re determined and distinguished in the financial scene—and can have their voices be the only ones heard when they want them to be.
But regardless of how much his eyes are rolling on the inside, Harry’s face presents complete and utter professionalism besides his less than enthusiastic partner, who—bless her—had tried. She had. She’d been polite smiles, and firm handshakes, and straightened posture. She’d been silently engaged, and spoke when addressed. She’d been perfect. But that was an hour and a half ago—and if Harry had been feeling any other way, he’d be much more forgiving than he is right now. 
Because Y/N’s face is starting to lose its civility, and her eyes are starting to gloss over, and her posture is starting to slump, and her composure is starting to slip. And that’s okay. It is. It should be. But Harry’s anxious too; he’s worried, he’ll admit. He’s choosing his every word with precision, he’s using words and phrases not in his everyday vocabulary in an attempt to write himself into Mr. and Mrs. Pierson’s good books.
So the nerves are getting the better of him. And it’s an ugly feeling. He hates feeling the control slip from his hands, hates feeling as though he is not the one in charge of his emotions, hates letting the anxiety treat Y/N as his asset as opposed to his other half.
And Harry doesn’t like to disrespect the ones he loves. 
Such a thought may seem sudden. But he’s loved her for a while now—it doesn’t scare him. But if Y/N were anyone else, he wouldn’t even have to question whether she returns his feelings. Because it should be obvious by this point.
But this is Y/N. The woman he loves, sure, but also the woman who has required Harry to adopt a new way of communication—for the better—without a doubt. Yet still, what he doesn’t know is how the fuck he’s going to tell her. How he’s going to say anything without overwhelming her. He likes to think that, by now, he’s got a pretty good understanding of how Y/N’s brain works—which is why (and it feels cruel to even venture down this neural pathway but) he’s nearly one-hundred-percent sure that she has convinced herself that he could never love her.
Which is absurd. It’s so absurd that Harry would be more likely to believe the Earth is flat than to encourage the notion that Y/N is unloveable. He would rather voluntarily get an intrusive operation or lose all of his personal belongings. But how does one convince another that they are worthy of love? If they don’t believe it themself. 
And, undoubtedly, her behaviour is still off. Despite their recent conversation—despite Y/N’s tears and Harry’s reassurance—she’s still fighting the submission. And it’s draining her. Harry can see it. She wants nothing more than to give in but she just won’t let herself and it’s weighing heavier and heavier on Harry’s heart. As though she’s scared, or creating enough distance to build a wall—brick by brick—Y/N hesitates, Y/N ignores, Y/N diverts.
The dominant in him thinks she should be punished. For countlessly testing his patience. But it doesn’t feel right—the possibility that Harry might make her cry for any reason that is not good makes his bones ache—and Y/N is on the brink of tears a lot these days. Harry doesn’t know what to do. How to approach what’s going on—when they’ve already had some kind of conversation surrounding Y/N’s difficulties with accepting his care—and seeing that nothing has changed. He understands that he needs to ask her to make a decision—to stop working or to stop trying to maintain his home, as well as her own; she cannot continue to do both and preserve any sort of mental stability.
But he suspects that she may not choose the thing they both want the most.
And when Harry is letting his impatience overpower him then how can she be blamed at all?
She’s tired when they get in the car—back moulding into the seat as she gives a relieved sigh. And relief—relief is something that releases countless endorphins, something that can have Y/N do a complete one-eighty in personality and demeanour. Relief makes her chatty, and it makes her fidgety. 
“They were a bit uppity.” The words are carried in a manic sort of lilt.
“Mhm,” Harry hums, paying attention to the road as he pulls out of the car park and into the throng of vehicles. The headlights pierce right into his eye sockets as they speed past. Spending an evening with The Pierson’s has inflicted the most terrible of headaches—but he’s relieved too—at the prospect of not having to deal with them again for a long while.
Y/N scratches at her knuckles for a second too long—Harry has to ignore the urge to cover her hands with his own—as she admits, “I don’t think they liked me very much.”
And maybe his first port of call should’ve been reassurance, but he says, “Who cares what they think?” The line of irritation might start to blur in his voice, Harry can’t tell. 
“Me, obviously.”
He spares her a glance out of the corner of his eye to see she’s already looking at him, shy but cheeky smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She does that sometimes. When she says something bratty but wants to stay in his good books. It usually works.
Harry says nothing, turning his attention back to the blinding road before he can see that smile disappearing. Y/N shuffles in her seat next to him, looking out of her window with a little sigh. It’s times like these that she worries. Worries about being too much to handle. And right now her anxieties manifest quickly—insecurities bubbling to the surface and lodging themselves in her throat. One tiny action, or a handful of even smaller ones, changing the course of her pattern of thinking.
It feels rude to ask, each syllable falling off her tongue with a clatter. She almost wants to flinch. “Can you take me home, please? As in… my home.”
This has Harry attentive, granting her more than a single peek from the corner of his eye. He looks over for a second or two, asking, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she nods, and the confession comes easily now, anxiety and relief coalescing into a chaotic swirl, “I’m tired,” harsh knuckles nudge at eye sockets. “It was really loud in there… and those lights were awful… and… I just need a night alone, I think.” She doesn’t say what she’s really believing—I think you need a night alone from me.
But Harry doesn’t argue. Harry never argues. He never usually has to; things just go his way. He’s resigned as he sighs, before nodding quickly, tersely, eyes fixated on the road. “Okay, darling, if you’re sure.”
“Sorry,” Y/N finds herself saying, guilt swarming in her gut despite believing it’s for the best. But it seems nothing she says ever feels right. 
Harry reaches over to squeeze her thigh, warm and encompassing, a silent reassurance that she needn’t apologise. And then he verbally reassures her too, “Don’t be silly, you’re allowed to miss home comforts,” he squeezes again, and flits his eyes over with a small smile, “especially when you’ve got such a cute bedroom.”
Y/N can’t help but mirror his expression, a giddy giggle bubbling out of her throat. “It is pretty cute.” Cuter with her beautifully broad dominant decorating her frilly bedspread, but she doesn’t have the confidence to specify so.
Harry keeps the weight of his hand on her thigh for as long as he possibly can, lifting it only when crucial to the safety of his driving. When he pulls up outside Y/N’s building and turns off the ignition, neither of the pair move. She asked to go home but she doesn’t want to be here. She wants Harry to turn the car back on and take her to his home whether she may pretend to protest or not.
But all she does is angle her body towards Harry’s and peek up at him from under her lashes. He’s already looking at her, of course, a tired smile on his handsome face.
“Come here,” he brings his hand up and threads his fingers through her hair, scratching soothingly. Y/N’s eyes flutter shut, unable to resist the way she gravitates towards him. She doesn’t see the worry in Harry’s eyes.
He kisses her. And she kisses him back. A soft sponging of lips warmed by the gentle exhalations from their noses. It’s nothing indecent, but any passerby would be sure to read the signs; there’s no other way to interpret such a kiss other than with deeply rooted affection. More than just a brief goodbye between casual lovers.
Harry pulls away first, letting his lips tingle against Y/N’s cupid’s bow. “I—” I love you. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.” Her eyes stay shut, frozen in Harry’s hold, wishing to stay in his car indefinitely.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, slowly untangling his fingers and swiping down the bridge of her nose with his knuckle to make her smile, “go and get some rest.”
As soon as she’s disappeared behind her front door, turning around to give Harry a little wave to send him off with one final pretty picture, he lets his posture slump. He lets the worry carve lines along his face, and he lets his lungs heave a tired sigh.
Harry doesn’t much like his house anymore—not without Y/N in it—it feels double its already gargantuan size and the hues she’s painted across every surface fade back to white. But, when he gets home, the remnants of her follow him from room to room. An almost painful reminder. And Harry has to shake some sense into himself; she’s not dead. She’s fine, she’s asleep in her bed, safe in her house, but… it’s not that he’s worried about.
He sits in his kitchen alone, stabbing pitifully at his fruit for one. He’s not hungry, but Y/N never turns down a fresh bowlful at any time of the day, so it seems his brain insists that now would be the best occasion. And it’s not like they’ve never spent nights apart but this one feels different, this one feels forced—tense—unravelling. 
Mugs scatter the draining board, vibrant in colour and pattern; one small example of Harry seeing something—anything—and feeling compelled to buy it for Y/N. To watch her face light up over whichever cutesy thing he’s presented her with. They fill his cupboards (the mugs) pushing his old, plain, white ones to the back where they gather dust. He should put the clean ones away but he doesn’t. Instead his viridescent eyes trail across to the fridge, lettered magnets untouched from their formation that Y/N had ordered them in earlier that day. 
PRUNE
Harry can’t help but smile despite how heavy his face feels—unable to ignore the idiosyncrasies of Y/N. There was nothing inherently funny about the word but for her to deem it a bizarre enough move to play as her hand… that’s what makes him smile. That in their silent, little game of who can spell out the most peculiar of words with their limited letters, her brain will always go somewhere he never expects.
He feels an immense weight swirling around in his gut; for not being with her now, for not making sure she’s okay. Regardless of her wish to be alone, Harry should know when to overrule her decisions if he believes he knows best. He’s become responsible for Y/N’s wellbeing—a true joy in his life but it doesn’t come without its challenges. It’s difficult to remind himself that she coped on her own for a long time, but he doesn’t think it's unfair to describe her attempts at self care as poor. And just because she survived on her own, that doesn’t mean she was okay—Harry has a pretty clear picture of that now.
Moping doesn’t tend to be an attractive look but… it doesn’t matter much, Harry considers, when he’s on his own. He mopes—from the kitchen and up the stairs, to his bedroom that he frowns at upon entering. Full of Y/N. He misses her so potently and he doesn’t understand why. 
The guilt gnaws away at him as he gets ready for bed, alone. As he strips from his uncomfortable suit, alone. As he brushes his teeth, alone, staring dismally at his tired face. Y/N’s products scatter the counter, unmoved from where she left them this morning. Her exfoliator narrows its beady eyes at him as he splashes his face with water, patting himself dry, alone—trudging back to his bed, alone. Cold and empty, bigger than it’s ever been before and dull without the mound of his lover curled within, sheets unloving as they lay leaden on his lone body.
He can smell her, he can see her things, her clothes, her personality—everywhere. So potent and yet so hollow, so ghostly. Harry groans, smothering his face into his pillow, but the force in which his head presses in only expels more of what he’s trying not to inhale.
Sleep doesn’t introduce itself; Harry doesn’t even let it. He’s up and out of bed before he can let his thoughts drift further, and out into his garden where he lets the midnight chill kiss his cheeks, nursing a caffeinated tea—sure to paint the sullen unders of his eyes a dusty mauve in the morning.
Y/N sleeps surprisingly well. And it is surprising, because before the unconsciousness had taken over, she’d tossed and turned for at least an hour. She’d even cried for a while when unable to stop her mind from wandering into dark hallways and even darker prison cells.
But then again, a good headache inducing cry always was the best medicine.
She turns down Harry when he phones her at eleven fifty-two the next morning. To go and get breakfast at The Little Snail Café, a usual occasion for them on a Saturday. 
I don’t really feel like going out—I’m sorry. No… no, thank you. I’m still a little out of it from last night. …No, I’m okay. Really, ‘m okay. Yes, I promise. Okay… Okay, bye.
It feels wrong, it itches somewhere she cannot reach—it lines her bones and aches and aches. She spends most of that day sitting and staring, at nothing in particular. A whole chunk of her day just zoned out in the direction of her wall. But it wouldn’t have mattered had her vision been aimed at white plaster or a menagerie of the world’s most exotic animals—her eyes still would have glossed over, blurred by a sheen of vacancy.
By the time the sun sets and the moon casts its chilling glow, Y/N can recount eating one full meal and going to the bathroom twice, maybe three times—the rest of the hours lost in a haze.
It doesn’t feel particularly good to get out of the house—and face Sunday morning head on—but Y/N forces herself to regardless. Whether she has or has not run out of milk is entirely unrelated. There were no plans to stop for anything else, to become waylaid or distracted by bookstores, or the smells of deliciously fatty breakfast foods frying, or even to bump into her dear friend. Her dear friend who she has neglected for so long that, embarrassingly, Y/N will admit, she’s been avoiding out of shame.
And Niall is feeling neglected. Which Y/N knows, not from assumption but because he tells her as such.
“Never see you anymore, do I?” He nurses the steaming mug between his palms, the searing ceramic bringing feeling back into his iced fingertips. “Have to bump into you at the bleedin’ shops, beg you to get a coffee, and you still won’t tell me how you are,” he swallows. “And you hate going shopping alone!” His jewellery clatters against the mug as he gesticulates wildly. “We always did that together,” pausing to take a sip, sighing when Y/N doesn’t take the opportunity to fill his silence. “You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N.”
The two friends work in the same building—and that is the fact that is silently ignored by either party. It’s awkward, and it’s sad, to admit out loud that they don’t even cross paths at work.
She sighs, hoping the swirling, spiralling liquid of her latte might just hypnotise her. “I’m sorry.”
Another resigned exhale, “Yes, well. I know y’are. You’re always bloody sorry. Too bloody sorry, if y’ask me.”
“You’re being mean,” she frowns, unused to the lack of frivolity coming from the usually maddeningly overjoyed half of their duo.
“Mean?” He’s incredulous. “I’m grumpy, aren’t I! Because I miss my best friend and she’s gone radio silent on me.”
Yeah. She can’t deny that—already admitted it, in fact. “I didn’t mean to, I— I forget. I—”
“You forgot about me.” His voice is perfectly steady. Nearly disbelieving but still and stoic.
“I did not! I…” she swallows around a scratch in her throat, trying so hard to ignore the uncomfortable wash of heat over her forehead. “I’ve never had more than one person to focus on before. And I’ve been so busy, I just— I get overwhelmed, and I panic, and I… You never even texted me.”
Niall huffs, grumbling, “Was waiting for you to text me.”
“Well,” Y/N exhales, tempted to laugh, all of a sudden, “it’s just as much your fault then. You know I’m not good at it. Texting and whatever.”
And then a telling vibration rumbles through her bag, loud enough for both bickering friends to stop and catch one another’s eyes. Y/N tries to play it off, tries to ignore it but Niall rolls his eyes.
“Answer him.”
She scoffs, “It could be anyone.”
“Oh, give over. Answer him.”
She rolls her bottom lip into her mouth nervously, a murky guilt swimming around her insides as she pulls out her phone.
Harry Hi darling, missed you yesterday. Hope you’re having a nice day. X
And suddenly the remorse is filling her lungs like water. Her heart dips inside her ribs, pounding alarmingly, lips pulling down into a frown she doesn’t realise is visible. She types out a reply automatically, autopilot taking over—declaring she’s out with Niall and that she misses him too—maybe a tad overeager with the exclamation marks.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyes stay locked onto the little keyboard at the bottom of her screen. “Hm? Nothing.”
“Right,” Niall mutters, unconvinced. When she puts the phone down, he catches her off guard, and Y/N hadn’t adequately prepared for her day to go this way at all. She’d just needed some bloody milk! 
“We’re going out. T’dinner or something—”
The telltale signs of a migraine tease the backs of her eye sockets. “Oh—Niall, no—”
“—Mhm, yes we are. Bring Harry,” he nods, “I’ll bring… m’self, invite some guys from work.”
“Niall—”
“—Y/N.”
They stare at one another, Niall’s gaze firm and Y/N’s pleading. There’s nothing she hates more than social gatherings, let alone awkwardly unfamiliar ones with coworkers she only speaks to when they absolutely demand her attention, for Christ’s sake. But her friend doesn’t give—and Y/N can’t really blame him. She’s been a shoddy friend, after all, the least she can do is spend an evening with him. 
“Boyfriend can hold your hand,” he teases and Y/N frowns exaggeratedly, a warmth seeping out over her face.
“Shut up,” her bottom lip protrudes and she brings her steaming mug up to her face to distract from her incessant embarrassment. She doesn’t want to correct him about the boyfriend thing. Y/N comes across juvenile enough without having the ‘I don’t know what we are’ conversation. Besides, Niall would only dismiss her queries—quite rightly too. Of course, they’re dating; what else would it be? Harry had specified anyway. She was his, and he was hers.
“Please no dinner.”
Niall says nothing. And then he nods, “Okay, fine. No dinner. A long weekend, me and you, somewhere with wifi.”
“That sounds nice,” Y/N smiles. It’s small, a little nervous, but it’s genuine. She hasn’t spent proper time with her friend in so long that she’s worried she might have forgotten how. But it’s Niall, and she knows those anxieties will melt away near instantaneously.
“But just to remind you, if I hadn’t taken you out all those months ago, you never would’ve met Harry so maybe you should reconsider your stance on socialising.”
“That’s not fair—Wait, that’s not even true, you set us up on a bloody date, you arse. Surprise attacked me.”
He smiles. “Semantics.”
Y/N goes home on her own to wallow without Harry—knowing too well she could be in his bed instead of hers. And she spends the rest of her day similarly to the one before it—only now she’s got the dread of Sunday blues setting in. She starts to think, and overthink, and overthink her overthinking. She analyses everything about her relationship with Harry.
Their routine is—was—ordinary. Harry worked, Y/N worked, they met back at Harry’s home in which Y/N spent more time than her own, they ate dinner, they went to sleep. Rinse and repeat. It felt solid despite previous teething problems. But slowly, slowly but surely, things changed. So gradually that you wouldn’t notice straight away.
Now, Harry works, Y/N works, Harry texts Y/N to make sure she’s still coming over, Y/N says yes most of the time, she defies him more than she ever has done before, they play it off as bratty behaviour and the rest remains the same. Neither of them particularly like this fact, but Y/N is convinced of her own self-sabotage and Harry is practically terrified he’ll scare her off. So they stay at this impasse, waiting for what won’t come. 
And Y/N only reaches her breaking point quicker, and quicker. It’s why she lies to him the next day. She regrets it as soon as the decision is made because Y/N has never been a good liar, but it turns out she’s practically incapable of it when Harry is involved. If it weren’t for the fact his voice crackled down the phone line and he wasn’t staring into her anxious eyes, then she’s certain she wouldn’t have even tried to fib in the first place.
She’d glanced around an empty reception and moused over the five unread emails in her inbox as she informed Harry she was just too swamped to go out for lunch. The phones are ringing off the hooks, she’d said, staring at the empty chair behind her shared desk that was hardly ever preoccupied by two receptionists at once. Y/N had always been grateful for her shifts, but in that moment she’d almost wished there were fifty of them behind the bloody desk—phones ringing and keyboards clicking—just to compensate for the deceit.
And her heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest as she lied to him, clenching her eyes shut as if it wouldn’t just amplify the disappointment funnelling into her ear. With no vision, her mind could only wander from room to room, happening upon an easel and starting to paint the perfect depiction of personified emotions. Harry with frown lines and sad eyes, clutching at his heart as though someone had tried to forcibly remove it. 
The piece would hang in the Louvre, titled something like The Fatal Lie or She Who Breaks Hearts or He Does Everything for Her and She Fucking Lies to Him What A Fucking Bitc—
She didn’t open her eyes until the line went dead.
In truth, Y/N can’t exactly explain why she thinks this is necessary. If someone were to ask her to be logical about it all; to present her ideas as though they were a brand new theory or hypothesis, she would be entirely stumped.
Because there is no logic to it—but she fears she’s spiralling a little bit and she’s never known how to stop. Like one big DNA strand, Y/N can spiral forever. She feels as though she’s stuck inside her own personalised riddle. Why won’t the submissive let her dominant take care of her? And the answer is staring her right in the face but she can’t figure it out. Everyone is screaming at her inside of their heads but Y/N remains clueless.
It seems karma has a lovely big handful in store for her, however. And from an outsider’s perspective, Y/N might be more relieved that she is immediately punished for lying to Harry. But as it all happens, justice is the last thing on her mind.
Y/N has had more bad days than she’s had hot dinners. (Considering her eating habits are hardly healthy, that makes such an idiom somewhat disturbing.) Most days, she rolls out of bed expecting the following twelve hours to pour litre upon litre into her stress bucket—one so butchered and beaten that there are holes in the tin, leaking droplets steadily, and its contents are sloshed about with no poise.
As a result, she’s become fairly skilled at hiding her bubbling emotions under the surface; putting a lid on them until she’s somewhere safe to implode. To let them tip over the edge and sear the ground beneath her.
So what on Earth was compelling her eyes to start filling with no regard for her current environment? A professional setting, Y/N. Your workplace. Impatient men demanding things she cannot help them with may as well be included in the job description; Y/N knows how to deal with them—recites the sickeningly polite script memorised within the overwhelmed organ inside her skull. Tells them that this week is fully booked, Sir… and would they like to hear next week’s availability? 
She knows what to do. So why is it so hard today? Why do their bitter tones and probing questions drill so pointedly into her temples? She knows the answers to those riddles but a stubborn refusal to accept them makes her all the more frustrated.
It is so sorely reminiscent of the first time Harry had shown up at her door, faced with Y/N’s smeared mascara and crinkled work clothes. He’d bought her flowers, and he cooked her dinner, and he made her forget all about her day. Since then, Y/N thinks she’s forced his hand on too many occasions to be able to forgive herself. How many more times can she come home crying before he decides he’s had enough? The thought only makes her sniffle louder.
By the time her workday comes to a close, Y/N is ready to crawl into the nearest gutter and start her decomposing process sixty decades early. She takes herself to her preferred bathroom stall—the one with the wall on her right hand side—and dials Harry’s number before she has the chance to change her mind. If this is the last time he can handle her then so be it.
He picks up too quickly for Y/N to figure out what she’s going to say, his name in a frail whimper the only thing that comes out. “Harry?” She does try to school her tone but to no avail. Her voice totters about all over the place.
Immediately, Y/N hears shuffling on Harry’s end. A hasty sit-up, or a scattering of papers, the scraping of a chair pushing back from his desk in a panic. “Baby? What’s th’matter?”
And really, it’s Harry’s own fault for the clumsy sniffle that perforates his ears—how could Y/N not cry harder to the sound of his worried timbre? He calls her baby and she turns into one; helpless and desperate for care.
“Nothing, ‘m—I’m okay.”
Harry gives an exasperated huff, “Darlin’, I can hear you crying,” he smiles slightly through the phone but he’s not happy. “What’s wrong—?”
“—Sorry.”
Their voices overlap and there’s a pregnant pause. “Y/N.”
“Can—Can I come over?”
“Of course you can, sweetheart, why are you asking me?” She hears the scratching of stubble and it tickles her ears as if Harry is right next to her. “Never have to ask.”
“Okay,” she lets out a relieved sigh. He doesn’t sound annoyed, or exhausted, or fed up; it starts to thaw at the tensions in her body already. “Sorry.”
“S’okay, come home, alright?” Another pause where, presumably, he checks his watch, “Your shift’s over.”
“Mhm.” She hums so she doesn’t speak in wails. Shame slicks up and down her arms. It’s unbearably hot. It pecks at her skin and boils her from the inside out.
“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah, darlin’? Working from home today, I’ll put the kettle on f’ya.”
“Okay…” there’s a pause where a certain phrase feels appropriate, and then, “bye.”
Y/N dabs pathetically at her sodden cheeks, and blows her nose into a tissue. She tries to take slow, deep breaths but her airways are all congested and it must make for a sorry sight. 
But her shift is over. And Harry is waiting for her at home.
“There she is,” his voice practically carries her over the threshold of the front door. Harry’s holding a hot cup of tea and rubbing a socked foot along his calf to soothe an itch. He leans so effortlessly against the kitchen door frame.
He walks over, practically cooing, “Oh, Y/N. What are we g’na do with you, hm?” It’s almost patronising—if not for Y/N’s fondness for submission. For Harry’s dominance. She nuzzles her nose into his chest, soothed by every warm, heavy stroke of his palm up and down her back (he makes good heed to hold the steaming mug away from their embrace).
Y/N must look a mess—all sticky faced and wet eyes. Harry doesn’t say a thing—simply ushers her into the living room with a guiding palm melting into her lower back.
She exclaims suddenly, “My shoes—!” and it doesn’t matter how comfortable Y/N may be in Harry’s home, she’ll never feel polite wandering around in outdoor footwear. But he shushes her, forces her gently onto the sofa with a nudge and places her drink on the side table. He kneels down, taking care of her bothersome loafers that still rub against her heels no matter how broken in they may be. Nurturing digits squeeze and knead the sensitive flesh, almost eliciting a peal of shrieks and writhing, before they smooth up the backs of her calves—nylon course against soft palms.
The shaggy rug that Y/N over-familiarised herself with, all those months ago, cradles her feet—her socks, however cute they may be with frills around the ankles, prohibiting her from burying her toes despite her best attempts. Harry looks up at her from the floor, worry still ever present in his expression. He’d hidden it well, greeting her with a smile, as he always tends to do, but now she’s sat in front of him, sofa swallowing her up, and he lets the fuss tug at his brows.
“Wanna talk to me?”
It’s soft and unassuming, but Y/N still looks upset to be asked. She sniffs, “Just another bad day,” weak smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Her voice is all thick and sluggish; Harry wishes he could personally caress her larynx, however disturbed that may be. He doesn’t care.
He won’t nag about quitting her job—he won’t. Not out loud anyway. But it’s hard when there’s an absolute certainty of someone’s happiness increasing tenfold… but they won’t allow it. Harry can’t bear seeing her like this so often—not when he’s sure it could all be fixed. 
Especially after the plate debacle.
I’m not happy—her words echo around his skull like a reverberating clang to the head. The words escaped during a moment of vulnerability, an admission never likely to be reiterated under more controlled circumstances. But Y/N had reached the end of her tether, her ability to cope tested beyond its capabilities, and Harry has become aware that she’s never really, truly comfortable within her own skin; living, working, existing the way she does. 
They’d half discussed it, a few weeks ago, and Y/N had been better immediately afterwards but then… as time passed and her insecurities remained festering, their conversation may as well have never happened.
“I’m sorry,” he presses a kiss to her knee, “wish I could make it all better.” Wish you would let me. 
“You do.” It makes her smile—albeit, sadly—to see Harry so dedicated to the way he sponges his mouth against her body. Over her knee, up her thigh, along the wrist that sits heavily in her lap. 
“Let me take proper care of you tonight.” A verbal switch that turns Y/N’s brain to mush the moment Harry flicks it. “Get you out of that cruel head of yours.” As he dots kisses across the palm of her hand and he whispers against the sensitive skin. “Pretty, but cruel.” 
“Mm,” Y/N quivers against his touch, overwhelmed by the heat that flushes her cheeks. “Need you.” It almost comes out as a sob, eyes filling with desperation as Harry’s kisses send lightning strikes down her spine, standing the hairs of her arms on end.
He pushes up a little, gaining enough height to look into her eyes as he shushes her gently. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” The sofa cushions give way as Harry takes Y/N’s spot, manoeuvring her onto his lap and coaxing her face into his neck. “You’ve got me.” Feeling the slope of her nose press so solidly makes Harry feel incomplete without it—like her weight is always meant to be glued to him this way.
He gives her a moment, a cuddle that he knows she’s needed, whispering promises of a good, good night. “Make you feel light as a feather, yeah?” But when it’s time to pry her away from the security of his hold, she grumbles and whines—unable to see the whole picture when life is so warm and cosy like this.
Harry’s not harsh with her; it’s not the time, but he still knows best. “Come on, baby, you know how this goes,” cupping his hands underneath her armpits as though she’s a big toddler and guiding her down to the floor—to the rug she loves so much. 
“That’s it—kneel down, f’me.” His thumb brushes the apple of her cheek, smoothing over the skin with adoration. “Such a good girl,” he smiles, lips stretching softly. Y/N leans into his palm, gentle breaths funnelling through her nostrils and into his lap. Her body relaxes, slumping unconsciously to lean against Harry’s knees as the weight of her head begs to be supported by his thighs.
“You trust me, don’t you?” The words dance their way into Y/N’s ears, slowly; unhurried. She takes a moment to register, but when she does, she nods—movements lagging and heavy.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers, unaware of her own volition—seemingly out of control but content to cling onto the feeling. 
Harry’s lips quirk, top teeth rolling his bottom lip into his mouth to curb a grin. He’s missed her—this submission; the ease in which their hearts settle into when they both fulfil their respective roles. He’s unsure, right now, why Y/N is giving in tonight—when she’s been hellbent on pretending Harry’s control doesn’t smooth every worry line from her pretty face—when she’s been denying it to herself despite the truth lingering murkily between them; unacknowledged. He supposes her day really must have been bad.
But he won’t question it yet, not when the opportunity lies so openly in front of him. To make her happy again, if just for an evening. To prove to himself that the issue doesn’t lie within a place he’s found himself worrying about recently—a more vain, shallow insecurity that he’s admittedly never pondered upon before. 
He hums, thumb dipping lower to tease across her plush bottom lip, back up to her cheek, and down again. Y/N wants to open her mouth, tongue lingering just behind her lips evidently. She’s waiting to be told, waiting to be allowed—it stirs up something thick in Harry’s abdomen. He dips his digit past her eager mouth, pressing down on her tongue with intention. Her breath hits him heavily, a sigh of relief and of placidity.
“Just need something to suck on, I think.” 
It’s a connection he’s made—like handing a lollipop to a child to make them smile—that if Y/N could permanently have him in her mouth… she probably would. Not too dissimilar to a candied treat, in her eyes. Something to concentrate on, to feel fill her mouth, to be forced to focus on her breathing and forget about the world around her.
She nods into his hand, smaller fingers trying to burrow into the skin just above his knees. He’s wearing loose athletic shorts—comfortably manspreading—the feel of his little hairs and the warmth of his body keeping Y/N tethered to the ground.
Harry covers one of her hands with his free one, squeezing gently to convey an unspoken semblance of priority. Of his desire to only do what will make her feel better. And of his appreciation of her trust; believing so deeply in him to do what’s best for her.
It’s why he feels happy to pull his thumb from Y/N’s mouth and tug the elastic waistband of his shorts down. To let his hardening cock fatten up for her, eager to guide it past her awaiting lips as he smooths over her brow.
“Precious doll. Stop thinking, yeah? Let Daddy keep you safe.”
Her breaths hit his velvety skin, warm through her nostrils as she sighs an exhale of relief. Harry’s lashes flutter when she rolls her tongue along the underside of him, making all the effort to not twitch his hips up and into her mouth. He smooths a hand over her crown, heavy lids fighting to stay open as he admires the softness of her own as they rest shut. 
Y/N’s movements are sluggish—minimal—as her cheek smushes into the meat of Harry’s thigh, still half-concealed by his shorts. A light hand wraps around his cock, smaller digits and tired state of mind failing to provide much pressure but Harry doesn’t care. Harry thinks Y/N could blow streams of air on him and he’d still be besotted.
She’s falling asleep—usually nothing to be proud of—but the lax of her limbs is precisely her dominant’s greatest achievement. “Are you tired, baby?” Y/N shakes her head but Harry exhales a laugh. “Yes, you are,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, you can sleep,” lips forming around the permissions gently, large palm flattening over the top of her head, sending tiny sparks down her spine. She wants to nuzzle into him like a dog receiving scratches, being loved on and handled with care.
“You wanna stay down there?” Not for his own pleasure but for hers. Her contentment. Y/N nods, lips wet and swollen around him. “S’it comfy for you? Okay on your knees?”
“Mhm,” she hums, shuffling in even closer, free hand looping around the back of his calf. Harry finds himself swallowing a yawn at the sight of her so peaceful below him, finger dancing across her hairline and rubbing along the shell of her earlobe. 
Eventually his eyes close too, his hands comfortable in her hair, as they give their consciousness up for a moment of rest.
It’s no more than an hour later when Harry lets the responsibility wake him back up. He tucks himself away from where he’s slipped from Y/N’s pouty mouth; her back is slumped so dreadfully that Harry immediately curses himself for letting her stay on the wretched floor.
It disturbs Y/N, hauling her into his arms, but Harry rubs magical circles into her back—wondrous enough to elicit purrs out of her if she were capable of making such sounds. But she’s hardly opened her eyes before Harry decides to blow cool air across her face, completely unprovoked in his mischief.
“Hey!” It comes out as a girlish grunt, a discombobulated huff. Harry’s grinning at the sight of her chin trying to crawl into her neck. And it only entertains him further to curl his fingers into her sides and squeeze mercilessly.
“Ah–ah! Ha—Harry!” Cartoonishly, her eyes bulge out of her head, any last traces of sleep dispersing completely as Y/N’s body goes into flight mode—or attempts to, at least. Harry’s got her firmly stuck atop his lap, wriggling digits for his squirming girl. “St—op!”
“Ahh,” the bastard sounds reminiscent, ceasing his movements to bask in the glow of her giggles, “missed my smiley girl.”
But the smile disappears… and a frown replaces it, suddenly aimed towards his lap.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry dips down, index finger resting beneath her chin to coax it up and level with his own.
Y/N’s eyes are dull in colour, lacking their usual charm. “I’m sorry for being miserable all the time.”
“Oh—no, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, darling. Don’t apologise for having emotions, that’s silly,” and he squeezes her again, perhaps somewhat cruelly, just to see her teeth behind her lips as she yelps involuntarily.
It is silly, but Y/N forever holds an awareness of how much she may be burdening a person. “Just like making you smile… s’my job.” He bites his lip to hide his own smile, and it has the desired effect—Y/N’s own face copying him perfectly—only far cuter, in Harry’s eyes.
Then he dances his fingers up her side with pretend innocence, “Didn’t get to fuck you proper ‘cause you fell asleep on me.”
Her smile vanishes again but for a much better reason. And, yeah, she would like that—she really would—despite her demeanour suggesting she might rather be mauled to death by wild cats. Still so shy, Harry must think.
“Think I’d like to spread you out on the rug, hm? How’s that sound?”
It sounds like bliss. It sounds like her cunt cries out in pleasure, completely untouched, just from the idea. “Yeah,” she breathes, nodding.
Lips curl like devil’s horns, “Yeah? Wha’s that mean, dummy?”
“Dummy?!” It comes out squeaky, and a little petulant, if the way she thuds her fists against Harry’s chest is anything to go by. He raises his eyebrows at her, somewhat surprised, if not slightly impassive, at the way she talks back to him.
“Yeah, dummy,” taking her wrists and decorating them with his fingers as they curl all the way around. He pulls them off of his body and holds them by her shoulders. “Dumb for my cock and I haven’t even put it in you yet.”
Her hips grind down without her permission—the slightest rut fuelled by habit—one she never wishes to kick. “Harry—”
“—Nope,” he cuts off her whine, pulling her arms behind her back like he’s done it a thousand times before—he has.
“Sir,” it falls too quietly from her lips, and it’s not really the word he wanted but he’ll let it slide. 
“What? What could my darling possibly want? Hm?”
He’s being mean now. He was so sweet earlier but now he’s just mean. It makes her feel deliciously delirious but still Y/N wants to act out just on principle. But she doesn’t, because she’s a good girl, and she’s been bad enough as of late. “Please, make it better. Need you to make it better, Sir.”
“Yeah, you do. Need me,” his voice is gruff, a terse exhale as he stands up with Y/N’s thighs wrapped around his waist and lowers them both down onto the shaggy rug. It brushes against her clothes, all soft and fluffy—he can’t wait to see it swallow her naked skin. All they’re missing is a roaring fireplace.
“Need you,” she nods, agreeing, echoing his words. The heat that started to bubble up before their spontaneous nap roils fervently in her abdomen once more, crashing wave after wave against her cunt—her clit, where she’s sure she can feel her heart beating.
Harry grunts, voice deep with anticipation, “Let’s get these clothes off,” murmuring more to himself than anyone else, deft fingers already undoing the buttons of Y/N’s blouse—faster than she ever can. Her body feels heavy with fatigue, the cushioning of the rug coaxing her up and away into that fuzzy space alarmingly fast, as she watches the beautiful man above her take care over the state of her undress. He doesn’t rip and tear, he smooths and folds, kind enough to rub her arms and legs as he goes.
Y/N almost wishes he’d run ladders through her tights—though she’d be grateful he doesn’t the next day—to speed the process up and get him all pretty leaning over her. Her bare shoulders are stroked by the rug; closing her eyes almost lets her imagine she’s laying in a meadow, grass kissing her skin. And when her legs are made bare too, that’s when she remembers where she really is, and knocks her knees together like something bashful. Harry folds her tights, and her socks, and Y/N wishes she could push herself up and kiss him for it.
But then he rests his palms atop the curving joints, pulling them back open slowly to admire the sit of her knickers, pressing tight against her pussy, lips so clearly soft and swollen even through the cotton. He pushes her knees up and his grip slips down to the underside, simply looking at her for a moment or two. Y/N whines, lying there in her bra and panties and being ogled at.
“Needy, needy,” Harry tuts, dropping his hands on either side of her head and letting her knees sling over his shoulders. “Needy girl with a fussy pussy, is that right?” She stares at him dumbly, only really able to process how pretty he looks. His words pass straight through her. So he dances a hand down her chest, her stomach, palm pressing into her mound as his thumb swipes over her covered clit.
“I said, is that right?” he goads over Y/N’s gasp.
“Ye—yes. Always right, y’always right,” she babbles, cheek turning into the rug. The weight of his thumb and that tiny flick is enough to make her clit throb.
“Mm, Daddy’s always right, you’re so smart, baby.” He taps so lightly, so mockingly, with the pad of his thumb—simply feeling. It makes her jolt anyhow, so pent up—at Harry’s complete disposal like his mere presence turns her into one of Pavlov’s dogs… and it’s not her mouth that drools.
“Let me have a good look at you,” his tone doesn’t leave room for interpretation. He will have a good look at her. “Fuckin’ missed you, gorgeous’,” as he tugs the gusset of her panties to the side—hardly patient enough to remove her legs from his shoulders and spend all that time wriggling the material down. Y/N isn’t sure if he’s talking to her or her cunt. “Been hiding from me.” Harry’s eyes flit up to hers and despite the thick layer of fog that floats around her brain, Y/N still has the mind to avert her gaze—embarrassed.
She’s not been hiding. That would be childish.
“I want you to come for me, okay?” Head dipping lower and lower until Y/N can feel his breaths tickling her bare skin. “I don’t want you to stop coming.” And then he meets her cunt, tongue laving over her drippy hole but not dipping inside, dragging her arousal up and over her clit one long, big swipe. Y/N makes a much louder noise than she’d be happy about in any other circumstance, with any sense of control over her actions. But she has no power over her mouth as it cries out, legs tightening around Harry’s head already and he’s barely started a thing.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she thinks it unwise to come quickly, considering Harry’s insatiable humming against her cunt, and his unlikely proclivity to want to stop. But he’s always unravelled her overwhelmingly fast—always managed to pull an orgasm out of her without even trying.
Sweat beads at the base of her spine, hands struggling to know what to do with themselves. She rests them either side of her head, and then they flinch up and off the floor when Harry sucks her clit into his mouth, the crude sounds making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She wants to bury her digits into his soft hair and tug for stability, but she sobs out at the suction, and the pressure of a finger circling her hole, and her arms fall heavy above her head.
Her back arches, body writhing far too much for Harry to focus as his forearm falls heavily over her stomach, fingertips mindlessly rooting under the wire of her bra. He pushes the cups up and over her tits, squeezing a palmful as he goes. His right hand concentrates where it matters, middle and ring fingers nestling inside of her easily and curling just right.
Y/N sobs, hand clambering to thud over Harry’s own that plays with her breasts. She squeezes him, mouth lagging behind her brain as her orgasm races towards her. “Harry!” Head thrown back against the rug, cushioned by the soft strands. He hums, and Y/N can’t see his face but she knows he looks smug. He hums and it tips her over the edge, vibrations sizzling off of his tongue and through her clit that he sucks and drools over as his fingers pump steadily. 
And he doesn’t stop—not that Y/N had expected him to but it’s suddenly a lot harder to deal with as her cunt clenches and throbs, resigned already under his intense ministrations. “Oh my god!” Too weak to lift her head up but she tries, only to be met with Harry’s devastating, smiling eyes tracking her every movement. She falls back again, frantic hands pushing at his forehead. “Please.”
He lifts up, chin glistening and mouth a pretty pink, “Mm.” Even gulping down oxygen looks sexy when he does it. Perfectly composed, lips curled up in satisfaction. “Not done, baby. W’na make you fucking gush,” and Y/N’s face curls up in a preemptive cry as Harry hauls himself up to her and smears a dismantling kiss. Her noises are muffled, turned into new ones with the feel of his mouth on hers, the taste on his tongue that he so generously shares, rubbing against hers like it might make her orgasm again.
A creeping hand wraps around her throat, the other still dedicated to the slick place between her thighs and the pressure makes Y/N’s lashes flutter, brows tugging towards the centre of her face. Harry smiles above her, serious about his word—he wants to make her gush around him, his index finger teasing the side of his middle that rubs so deliciously against the front of Y/N’s walls—pinky slapping lewdly in the crease of her thigh with every thrust in and out.
“I can’t,” she swallows, tough to talk with the weight of Harry’s palm against her neck.
“Yeahhh, you can,” he’s sure of it. Too cocky but Y/N’s cunt doesn’t seem to mind, clenching as though it wants to keep Harry’s fingers inside of her forever. “My good girl, yeah? Gonna get me all wet, aren’t ya.” Her jaw slackens, trembling fingers curling around his wrist as he digs into the sides of her neck and his fingers work tirelessly. 
“Daddy! Pl—ple—oh!” Nothing very intelligible tumbles from her lips, mouth wide with eyes to match, rendered statuesquely still with the pleasure that overwhelms. And then she starts trembling, every curl of Harry’s fingers making her abdomen coil tighter and tighter. “Ah—I—” Every pulse makes him all the more confident, unfurling his hand from around her neck to trail southwards and rub disrespectfully across her clit.
Y/N doesn’t know what to do—the pressure builds—it’s all consuming and overpowering, she wants to thrash and scream and run from the feeling. But she also wants to dive head first into it and spend the rest of her days there.
“Hey, look at me. Look at me, sweetheart—good girl,” their eyes lock and it makes it so much worse. He pushes into her button with tantalising precision, circling and pinching, leaning over to spit a filthy string of saliva onto the mess she’s already made. “Come, baby. Make a mess all over me,” his green eyes are so void of iris, black pupils large enough to reflect Y/N’s own image as he groans, “You can do that, can’t you?”
Everything’s upside down, she shakes her head when she should be nodding because it’s all too much and she’s crying as it happens, a tiny gush pushing out from around Harry’s fingers as he fucks her through it, moaning alongside her sobs. She soaks his shorts and drips down the insides of her thighs—shaking with enough force to displace Harry’s hand as her orgasm lingers for longer than she’s ever known.
Harry dips down and mouths over her empty hole, desperate to make her even wetter, lapping at her arousal like he may never get the chance to do so again. “Atta—fucking—girl,” not moving back for a second, words muffled. “Did so well. I knew you would.”
And he doesn’t fucking stop.
Y/N’s body aches lusciously when she gets up. She feels heavy and thick like honeycomb, and waking up with Harry’s thick biceps caging her in—the rise and fall of his chest against her back serving as the perfect metronome—had been so sorely missed she could’ve cried tears of relief.
In her delirium of the night previous, she’d failed to process the sounds of Harry on the phone, making the executive decision that she was too sick to come in. He only reminded her when she tried to wriggle out of his immovable grip to get ready. But then Harry’s own alarm had gone off and she was trailing behind him to the bathroom anyway, eyes shaped like hearts and her invisible tail curling around his legs.
Despite her best attempts, he hadn’t let her wrap her silky palms around him whilst they showered—endeared smile making her flush irregardless of their bare skin brushing against one another. 
She watches him get dressed, and watches each chew and swallow of his breakfast, resting her head in the palm of her hand like a true renaissance vision. And then she remembers something she’s been meaning to let him know, foggy head stumbling over a few words as she tries to piece them together.
“Um, Harry?”
He smiles to himself at the sound of her ambivalence. She sits next to him at the kitchen island with the most adorable crinkle in her nose. “Yes?”
“Uhh…” apparently her fingers are suddenly extremely fascinating. “I’m going on a long weekend trip with Niall on Friday. Is… is that okay?”
“Yeah, yes, of course that’s okay.” He frowns, “Have I ever made you feel like it wasn’t?”
She jumps, twitching on her stool like a fretful mouse. “No! No, I’m sorry, no you haven’t. I don’t know why—”
“You’re alright,” he knocks his knuckle under her chin affectionately. “You want some help packing?”
God, yes. “Would you mind?” She hates packing.
Harry could already make that assumption for himself—starting to imagine a scene of her sitting pretty on her bed, cross-legged, whilst he does it all for her. “Not at all,” tipping his head back to swig the rest of his coffee before leaning over to press a wet kiss to her cheek. 
Y/N can’t help but giggle. “Thanks,” and then she starts twitching again, with giddiness this time, hands coming out in front of her as she gestures. “I’ll make you that curry you like for dinner. Ready for you when you walk through the door, I promise!” She grins all beautifully and it makes Harry’s heart stutter in his chest—the elation on her face, the excitement. He kisses her again, pasting a few pecks to the corner of her mouth. “I promise,” as she turns to catch his lips with a smile, hands clenching into happy fists against his warm chest.
“Have a good day, sweetheart. No tears, yeah?”
She nods bashfully, following him to the front door. “No tears.”
1K notes · View notes
jaylver · 8 months
Text
CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH
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SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that. 
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PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish
WARNING(S): profanities, slight violence, suggestive content (no smut), drinking, partying, sunghoon being secretly obsessed (aka a loverboy), douchey football juyeon appearance
WC: 19k
AUTHOR NOTES: keeping my a/n short since i wrote a message at the end of the fic (please read it <3). thank you for the patience and for the love you gave throughout the series! i can't believe it has ended and i swear i'll be writing drabbles for this. enjoy this long fic as the last installment for the series. please leave feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated too! muah!!
part 4 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist
© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.
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THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING TO YOU NOW, BUT IT ACTUALLY WAS. 
Never in a million years would you have expected yourself in some random guy’s bed, naked and a throbbing head reminding you of last night's mistake. Blacked out, you were too drunk to even remember making a callous decision in fucking a guy’s name you couldn’t even remember now. Wow.
How did you even manage to bring yourself into this situation? Well, a frat party might explain it. Letting Wonyoung and Yujin drag you to their favourite frat party was already the first mistake, but when you discovered good booze and consumed too much of it, you ended up wandering off and found a hot man, not turning back, instead you ventured into his bed. Horniness along with a pinch of alcohol could really cloud someone’s mind and awareness, unfortunately you could prove that fact since you were a victim of it. 
It was currently 4 am and the man you fucked last night was dead asleep with his back facing to you while on the other hand, you were wide awake, swallowing whatever information you got from last night. You remembered him as a charming, flirty, funny white headed man who had a big dic—heart—excuse you, that was equally respectful and polite. 
He was just as handsome, gorgeous and breathtaking as his personality. Bright eyes, pale skin that complimented his hair, a pair of dimples that had you swooning, and legs long enough to outshine a professional model. Hell, how was he not a model in the first place?
Whatever happened yesterday night stays in the depths of his bed. Period. Though you couldn't deny his … skills, and you wouldn't mind another night with him, yet something in you was rejecting the idea of seeing him again and determined to have him remain as a one night stand.
Frankly speaking, you didn't want to leave this bed of his at all. Was he a morning stay in bed cuddling type of person? You wouldn't know and you're scared to know. What if he kicks you out? You needed to save yourself the embarrassing walk of shame in the morning, so instead, you slowly slipped out of bed, making sure he was still sound asleep before scurrying out.
The clothes scattered on the floor were unsurprising. You picked up your undergarments and the skimpy black dress you wore, pulling it on quickly as if your life depended on it. You weren’t cold hearted enough to leave without saying nothing, that was too low. Taking the nearest piece of paper you could find, you wrote down a few words of farewell and thanked him for the night, cringing all while you wrote it. Gosh, this was shabby but it would have to do.
Rounding your things up, your handbag and phone in hand as you buckled your heels strap, you quietly and sneakily exited from his dorm room, thankfully no signs of his roommates were around. Now, the problem was walking back to your part of the dorms in the cold of the night. Exciting, wasn’t it?
The moment you got back, the dorm was silent and dark. Wonyoung was asleep in her room, but Yunjin was lying on the couch with her hair in a mess and you knew she was going to have the worst hangover in the morning. You crept past her sleeping figure and went into your own room, letting out a sigh of relief before dropping into the comforts of your bed. Never again.
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“HE WAS GOOD WITH HIS HANDS?”
“Can you tone it down!”
Having breakfast the next morning in the campus’s cafeteria was probably a bad choice to give your two friends a recap. Yunjin was still in a daze, half invested, whereas Wonyoung was too invested, screaming at every detail.
“What’s his name?” Yunjin asked, taking a big gulp of her homemade hangover remedy.
“Well…” 
“You forgot?” the two girls before you exclaimed in surprise and horror, the embarrassment made you sink further into your chair. 
“It’s horrible, I know!” you buried your face into your hands pathetically, but whenever you closed your eyes, you thought of him, like he’s haunting you or something, which didn’t help you feel better.
“You weren’t even half as drunk as Yunjin, how could that happen?” Wonyoung said while Yunjin mumbled under her breath about not being that drunk.
“Gosh, I wonder too,” you jabbed at your plate of food disheartedly. “All I remembered was his silvery white hair,”
At the sound of his description, Wonyoung’s ears perked up, figuring the interesting part of your one night stand sounded oddly familiar, having a slight clue on who it was. But before she could actually piece everything together, your words interrupted her train of thoughts.
You were still lamenting about the possible love of your life. “I don’t think he even knows my name either,”
“Did you at least leave your name?”
“I left my initials if that helps …” you faltered when you saw the disappointed looks on your friends faces. 
“I’m betting on Prince Charming to look for you.”
You didn’t think much of your one night stand after that, continuing on with your day and getting yourself busy. That’s when your mother suddenly called you up, thinking it was a normal phone call asking about you and your life recently, until she started talking about a house party that she wanted you to go to, hinting a ‘defined’ young man would be there for you. Sure, as if a hot man was just waiting for you that easily. 
Nonetheless, you accepted the invite in order to avoid pissing her off and show some decent courtesy to her friend’s house party. Maybe, just maybe, it was going to be better than you expected. There was one thing your mother made sure to remind you constantly before the party: dress well. What she was hiding up her sleeve was something you wouldn't know until then. ‘Save me’ was written over your expression when you realised she had intentions hidden behind her sweet smile. 
"You know Mrs Park's son is perfect, right? He'd be a great boyfriend!" Your mother swooned as you two walked hand in hand towards her friend, Mrs Park's house. 
"Mum, can you stop setting me up with every one of your friend's sons," you groaned, pulling on the ends of your dress that you begrudgingly wore to appease your mother.
"Well, you're in college with a love life that's dead. I'm trying my best at playing cupid here," 
Fairs.
"Whatever," you waved her off dismissively, though knowing she was right.
Your love life was quite a mess. A jock ex that you still bump into on campus, a short lasting situationship with a douchey footballer, desperate times, and a short lived crush from your marketing lecture. Safe to say you were going nowhere and your mother was unfortunately correct. 
Leading you to this point in life where you had to witness your mother trying to set you up with her friends' sons in the middle of a house party. All of which were ogling you but you were not reciprocating the same energy. They were nice guys, but did they catch your eyes? Not really.
The main host of the party, Mrs Park, soon appeared and welcomed everyone. When she approached you two, your mother made sure to pull you close, whispering into your ear. "Her son's a total catch,"
"What—?"
"I'm so glad to see you!" Mrs Park hugged your mother happily, all while you were slightly dazed and confused from your mother's words. Where was the 'total catch' anyway?
Mrs Park and your mother exchanged a few words and some gossip before her attention turned to you. "You're Y/N, right? I can't believe your mother took this long to bring you out!"
You laughed stiffly, eyeing your mother, not knowing what to say next. "I'm glad to have finally meet you now,"
"Me too," she patted your shoulder, and it was your mother's turn to speak, thank goodness. 
"Where's your son?" your mother glanced over at you momentarily, a scheming smirk telling you she was planning something to get you close with Mrs Park’s son.
"Oh! He's upstairs. He'll be down sooner or later, don't worry," 
Your mother nodded, persisting on getting more information about him. “If I’m not wrong, I'm pretty sure Y/N goes to the same college as him,”
“Is it?” Mrs Park looked delighted, raising a brow in interest. “You’ll get along with him just fine.”
To say you were bored and uninterested was an understatement. Don’t get the wrong memo, the food was great and Mrs Park was an amazing, accommodating host, but the lack of company made you feel a little too lonely. Your mother was off with her group of friends somewhere upstairs, leaving you and the other people around your age to linger on the first floor. However, they somehow knew each other while you were completely unfamiliar with them. Talk about the feeling of missing out.
Drinking in the middle of the day would most likely disappoint your doctor if he knew, but you just couldn’t resist it since the bottle was practically there. You poured yourself some and took your cup outside, getting to take advantage of the quietness in the garden lounge and escaping the loud chatters inside. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once liquid courage hit and you leaned back, closing your eyes temporarily.
Maybe it was the effect of alcohol that’s making you think of him, but the image of the guy from the other night appeared in your head with no warning whatsoever. Real sudden and almost too unexpected. Was he lingering in your subconscious for too long? Had you secretly never let him go all this while? To be fair, he was too gorgeous to let go. 
Your short lived peace and quietness was broken after you heard some shouts and cheers from inside. It sounded nearly like a concert or a celebrity’s appearance, but wouldn’t that be impossible? You turned your head around in curiosity, and your sight landed on a tall man that stood out among the bunch. 
That hair … it was familiar, too familiar. His back was facing you and you couldn’t tell who it was, but something internally told you this wasn’t going to be a great time. He was greeting the people around, slowly but surely turning around, until his front was finally facing you. You swore you almost lost your grip on the cup just then. 
Platinum white hair, a smile that showcased his charming dimples and sharp fangs-like teeth, long legs and great proportions. Mr one night stand.
It was as if the world was going against you at that moment. Just when you thought of him, he appeared. Did you actually manifest this man? It was too good to be true. You were probably hallucinating, right? The alcohol was messing with your brain. This was why you should stop drinking—
He met your eyes. 
You cursed the glass panel’s existence. If only it was a solid wall, he wouldn’t have spotted you and realisation wouldn’t have set in his eyes. 
Eyes widened, franticness filled your system. The panic set further in stone when you saw him excusing himself and approaching gradually, his long legs carrying him towards you. 
You tried ducking, or finding a hiding spot nearby, but it was impossible for either of those options. Accepting your fate was all you could do as you heard the glass door slid open, his footsteps getting louder. 
"You alright?"
Hell no.
You glanced up, flushed from embarrassment. Clearing your throat and regaining your posture as you slowly stood up, avoiding his stare. "I'm … fine,"
"Were you trying to hide?"
"I—no—I was tying my shoelaces,"
"You're wearing heels," 
You looked down at your feet, then back at the man before you.
"That's—uh—nothing—"
"You are hiding from me,"
"From you? Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoffed, trying to mask your panic.
"Okay then," he let out an amused chuckle, earning an annoyed eye roll from you. "I know we both probably don't want to talk about that night—"
"Right," you mumbled, accidentally cutting him off briefly.
"So, I was wondering if we could start afresh? We were both drunk and have almost no memory of that night. Plus, you seem cool and I really, really want to get to know you better,"
"Even if it mean we fucked?"
"Even if it mean we fucked," he repeated, shrugging slightly. "People fuck and stay friends all the time,"
"Are you sure?"
He made a face. "Kinda?" He extended his hand out, a meaningful spark in his eyes. "I'm Sunghoon,"
"Sunghoon," you echoed his name, thinking how much he fitted his image. Tall blond Sunghoon, who was a sweet guy out on the streets but a freak in the sheets, got it. "I'm—"
"There you are!"
For once, you were thankful your mother had blocked a man's advancements. 
"Mom?"
"Mrs L/N?"
She had a look of satisfaction, eyeing you with a cheshire grin. 
"I see you two have met?"
You exchanged an awkward glance with Sunghoon, cringing slightly. Well, you did more than just meet.
"My daughter's a sweet girl, I heard you two are in the same college together, why not—"
"Mom!" You hissed, stopping her before she ended up digging a deeper grave for you. No way was she setting you and him up there and then.
"What?" She replied, oblivious. "Anyway, that's besides the point why I came. We'll be leaving already, I have an emergency to attend and it's honestly a headache. I had a lovely time, Sunghoon, extend my further thanks to your mother, will you?"
Sunghoon nodded and gave your mother a hug with a sweet smile, acting like a perfect gentleman and almost sucking up to her as if he wasn't just asking you to beg him a few nights back. 
Before you could fully turn around and follow your mother out, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was him. 
"I'll see you around?"
Disappointment was evident in his voice, his smile now pulled into a slight frown. 
"See you around, Hoonie."
Hoonie. That definitely didn't miss Sunghoon's ears, watching your figure getting further away from him and by then, he knew he needed you.
But first, he needed to get you to not run away from him … again.
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“HE’S THAT GUY!”
“What guy?”
Another round of Sunghoon discourse was shared after your fateful encounter with him. Yunjin and Chaewon were gasping the moment his name left your lips, but you were the only confused one there.
“Hockey!”
“Hockey guy?” you were still oblivious, the other two seemingly done with you. 
“Hockey player! He’s in the hockey team,” 
One blink. Two blinks. Your campus hockey team. You hooked up with a hockey jock? Scratch that, he was probably a hockey frat boy instead. It was common knowledge that the hockey team fucked around often. Despite keeping their ground and being good athletes, they still had a reputation of partying and hooking up.
“What?” You sputtered out, horror in your eyes. “He's on the hockey team? The same one that has Lee Heeseung, Park Jong Seong and Choi Jiung?”
“Yes, Y/N, we only have one hockey team on the campus,”
“Touche,”
“That's another athlete you hooked up with,” Yunjin nudged you teasingly, but Chaewon, on the other hand, was shaking her head in disapproval.
“Don’t encourage her, Jen. Not to be a killjoy, but girl, the hockey team has a bad name to them in terms of relationships,” Chaewon grimaced. “I don’t know much about Sunghoon but the things I’ve heard were not the best,”
“They are much more tame compared to the rest though. He has better decorum,” Yunjin chimed in, but that didn’t reassure you at all.
“Look, Y/N, we’re not stopping you from talking to him if you think he’s alright. But as your friends, we don’t want you heartbroken. Keep yourself alert and keep your heart at bay,”
“You’ve already let him in some other places—” You smacked Yunjin’s shoulder as she let out a cackle before it slowly died down and she continued, “but you know, you shouldn’t let him into your heart until you feel like it’s time,”
Chaewon nodded in agreement. “He’s still an athlete after all, not to mention, a popular star player of the team
“I mean, look at Juyeon,” At the mention of his name, thanks to Yunjin, you only shuddered at the thought of the douchey athlete before Sunghoon, Juyeon, a known footballer all over campus for the wrong reasons.
“God, don't bring Juyeon up, those were dark times,” Desperation and loneliness wasn’t a good combination to look at.
Chaewon patted your shoulders. “It sure was. But hey, maybe Sunghoon could change that stereotype. You have him now, who knows what’s in store for you two,”
“We barely talked. He's going to forget about me in a few days, trust me,”
Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged doubtful glances that went unnoticed by you, especially when you were distracted by a frantic Wonyoung running over to your table. She wasn't just frantic, she seemed like a mess.
“What's up with you?” You pushed the chair back for her to fall into, opening a bottle of water. 
“It's my parents again,” she groaned, fixing her hair aggressively. "Setting me up on blind dates and all that,"
"Again?" The three of you exclaimed in unison. It wasn't the first time that this had happened to Wonyoung, but it still surprised you everytime.
"Yeah," she spat, gulping water down. "They set me up with two guys but I've only been talking to one of them, I don't know about the other guy and I don't want to two time these people,"
"Why did they set up two guys this time?"
"I wonder too," she glanced between the three of you, swallowing deeply with a certain guilt in her eyes. "Which is why I wanted to ask—well, it's going to sound crazy—can one of you take my place?"
"What?"
Yunjin, Chaewon and you stared back at Wonyoung as if she had gone utterly insane. Maybe because she has. Her words didn't seem real and it only made the three of you burst out laughing, Wonyoung unimpressed at your unseriousness.
"Guys, I'm serious," 
Chaewon slowly calmed down from her high. "I'm not free for a date now, Wonnie, you know that. I'm busy with projects,"
Yunjin eventually collected herself too, but couldn't resist laughing in between. "I have to train for my next opera stage too,"
It was their turn to stare at you now, the decision falling into your hands. 
"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" You said nervously. 
"Y/N," Wonyoung batted her eyelashes innocently at you, tugging at your hand. 
"You're not serious, right?"
"I am," Wonyoung flashed you one of her sweet, charming smiles. "Come on, it's just one date, free food and possibly good company,"
"What if he's not a good company and a creep? What will I get for emotional compensation? Actually, what do I even get from this whole thing?"
Wonyoung considered it for a while. "A whole year's supply of food either way. Just go on this date and I'll pay for your food the whole year, deal?"
"No way," Yunjin blinked in surprise. Hell, you were surprised too. Being a broke, struggling college student, Wonyoung truly had a way to corner you. There's no way you couldn't say no to this.
"Deal,"
Wonyoung's smile grew wider. "All you need to do is pretend to be me, then try and chase him away,"
"What if he doesn't go away and is charmed?"
"Have fun. Maybe something good will come out of this."
"Doubt it."
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IT WAS NOT SURPRISING THAT YOU WERE STARTING TO GET SECOND THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DATE.
Wonyoung had the details and address sent to you, even paying for your dress and dinner. Now all was left for you to actually show up to the fancy restaurant and not blow your cover. 
Agreeing to taking your friend's place and pretending to be her was already a big risk. To think you were doing this was surreal, maybe this could be some new experience to laugh about in the future. But at that moment, you were not laughing, far from it.
"Got your keys?" Yunjin yelled from the next room as you gathered your last few items and sanity.
"I did!"
"What about your pepper spray? Wallet? Phone—?"
"I'll be fine!" You shouted back, chuckling slightly at Yunjin's usual demeanour. 
"Call us! Text us and give us updates, 'kay?"
"I will, don't worry," you called out your goodbyes before fully exiting your dorm room, mustering the bits of courage left in you all while you walked to your car, getting ready to drive to your misery.
A range of thoughts ran through your head from the carpark to the restaurant. Was he nice? Was he going to be douche? What if he was a serial killer—don’t overthink it—maybe he was a nice guy. You were affirming that it was about to be a chill night, a great date, but something internally did eat you up.
Upon arriving at the address Wonyoung sent you, you had to do a double take to make sure you hadn’t stopped at the wrong place. The restaurant was a fine dining place, chandeliers hung high on the ceiling, classical music playing in the background. It almost looked like it had come fresh out of a movie scene.
The server led you to your assigned table, heaving a breath of relief when you saw the empty seats. Your date wasn’t here yet and you had time to gather yourself. Fantastic! 
Would it be too late for the regret to settle in? The menu you had on hand was wide open and shielding your face, having an internal battle with yourself behind it. From a third perspective, you might’ve actually looked insane, but honestly, you could care less. By then, you couldn't tell if you were starting to shiver from nerves or from the backless dress Yunjin picked. You knew it would make you cold eventually.
The rambles in your mind had distracted you completely from the noises of someone moving about before you, still unaware until you heard a cough. “Hello?”
Wait a minute. That voice. 
“Hi?” you responded meekly, testing out the waters.
“Uh—can you—the menu—” he laughed awkwardly, sounding helpless. Poor guy.
The more he talked, the more your familiarity increased. It then clicked. That voice … it belonged to your one night stand, Sunghoon. The same guy your mother was pushing to be your future partner, also the one who spent the night with you. He was here, flesh and bones, on a date that was supposed to be with your best friend in the first place.
“Hey, I just want to get this done, I know our parents set this up and you probably give zero fucks about me but the dinner’s paid, so can’t we just try enjoying tonight—”
The menu in your hands was lowered, revealing your face and meeting his brown irises in an instant. You could tell the changes in his expressions as he gradually registered everything. Shock turned into confusion before it melted into amusement. He was amused?
“I don’t take it that you’re Wonyoung, right?” Sunghoon blinked, a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 
You, on the other hand, was more frazzled compared to him. Panicking and lowkey not knowing what you should do. “I could leave if you want?”
“God no, stay. Stay with me,” he assured, his hands gesturing a little too wildly. "I don't mind,"
"Really?" You swallowed, quite unconvinced. "This is so stupid. Wonyoung convinced me to do this since she's busy, I hope you're not disappointed," you winced, cringing slightly at yourself.
"I'm far from disappointed, actually. I didn't want to be here initially, my parents set it up without my knowledge—" a sour look on his face towards the mention of his parents' actions, "---but now that I know it's you, I feel a lot better,"
Something about the softness of his gaze and the sincerity of his words made you become increasingly interested. Maybe him and this whole date wouldn't be as bad as you thought.
"You're Y/N, right?" He said with uncertainty, eyebrows raised in expectation. 
You tilted your head, confused. You never give him your name, weird, how did he even know? Sunghoon seemed to sense that you were freaked out, because you really were taken aback, and he immediately panicked. “I–that probably rubbed off wrongly since you didn’t tell me your name after and I couldn’t remember it that night either, but you left your initials by my bedside, remember?”
He saw you nodding slowly, taking it as a clear sign to continue on. “Sounds insane but after that night, I actually asked around the campus with only your initials, trying to find you and figure out who you were. I know this sounds weird and totally invasive—”
Oh, he totally didn’t forget you in those few days like you’ve said before. It was the opposite. He went around trying to find you just with your initials? You were not ready to be down bad.
“No, it’s fine, really,” your eyebrows flew further up your forehead. You should be weirded out, but you weren’t. Actions spoke louder than words, and this was a prime example of it. You never had a man pursue you this intensely, even making an effort to try searching for your name alone. “It’s cute,”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I don’t think a man I’ve ever dated even did something like this for me before,” you giggled a little, noticing the flustered flush on his face, despite trying to remain a tough front. “How did you succeed in the end anyway?”
“Yunjin, was it? Your friend?”
You smiled slightly and resisted rolling your eyes at the mention of your best friend’s name. Of course it would be her that told him your name. “Right, that’s her,”
“She saw me practising one day in the arena and somehow recognised me, then she called me ‘white hair boy’ and asked if I was looking for you,” Sunghoon explained, earning a small laugh from you when you listened closely to him. “I swear I didn’t know it was going to be you today though, or that day at my house. I got your number from Yunjin and wanted to text you, but I suppose there were turn of events,”
“Funny how life works, huh?”
“Honestly, I’m glad it was you.”
The dinner eventually started and over the course of dishes, you and Sunghoon shared things about yourselves to each other, just trying to know more about one another and you swore you only fell deeper into the hole. He was passionate when it came to music, hockey, skating and his engineering course. Man, he was absolutely a charm that you couldn’t escape.
The accidental brushes throughout didn’t go unnoticed by you either. Whether it was him passing the napkins to you or just resting your hands too close to each other, you could feel his feather-like brush grazing against your skin. At times, his legs would make contact with yours, and you were aware that he was also aware. 
The night was filled with harmless touches and knowing glances at each other. Once you were done dining, he offered to take you home and walk you. How could you say no to that? 
"Have you ever gone to one of those hockey games on campus?" He suddenly asked on the way back to your place.
You shook your head. "Nope,"
"Would you like to come to the next game?" Sunghoon looked over at you for a moment before returning his gaze back to the road. 
"I'd love to," you answered without thinking. You were already weak for him, and there's no way out. "Will you be playing?"
"Maybe," he shrugged, a teasing smile etched on his face that you could make out in the dim glow.
He parked his car by the road, walking you to your apartment with you. The sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, the occasional light brushes against shoulders kept you buzzing internally. 
"I had a great time tonight," you said out of the blue, earning his attention. "You know, I thought I'll regret pretending to be Wonyoung and expected a scary douchey guy to be my date, but I'm really happy to see that it was you,"
"I thought you'd run away," he laughed, referencing the time you hid from him and most likely the night after where you left in the middle of the night. 
"That was the last time," you nudged him, and couldn't resist a smile either. "I swear I won't run from you again,"
"Really?"
"Really," you affirmed, casting him a glance. 
Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to Sunghoon. "Thank you for tonight,"
“Thank you too, I enjoyed myself with you,” Sunghoon had his hands slipped in his pockets, his dyed hair complimenting his features, you couldn't take your eyes completely off him, resisting the urge to start giggling.
“Me too,” your eyes never left his, and neither did his. “Goodnight, Hoonie,”
Hoonie. There it was again, catching Sunghoon by surprise, a good kind of surprise.
He smiled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
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“NEVER WILL I HAVE PREDICTED Y/N HOOKING UP WITH A HOCKEY PLAYER AND GOING TO ONE OF HIS GAMES AFTER,”
You brought Yunjin and Wonyoung along for the game, which you might’ve slowly regretted once you got to the arena. After telling them about the date, they were convinced you and Sunghoon were fated. Wonyoung even called herself ‘cupid’ and Yunjin credited herself for telling him your name. All you did was nod at their words, unable to deny that he had been in your mind.
“It is destiny,” Wonyoung cooed.
“Sure sure,” you waved them off dismissively, setting your eyes on the ice while the other two exchanged brief looks.
It was a while before the players of both teams filed out onto the ice, the arena bursting in cheers of support and you found yourself absentmindedly searching for Sunghoon. 
You saw him looking around as well. His eyes were squinted when he glanced up onto the stands, then it stopped when his gaze landed on you. You were the one he was finding for in the midst of the crowd.
Sunghoon waved almost too enthusiastically with the energy of a puppy, a toothy grin stretched wide and face lighting up, eyes shining. Gosh, he was so cute, how could you resist him? Spoiler alert, you couldn't. 
You didn't even realise you were reciprocating his big smile, waving back with equal energy and kicking your feet slightly. Whereas Wonyoung and Yunjin sat beside you, staring at the sight before them and knew what was up. You were hooked. But were they going to tell you that? No. You were going to work through this denial yourself unfortunately.
"What's with those looks?" You turned to them after Sunghoon skated away to his position. They shrugged.
"Well, someone seems interested," Yunjin raised her eyebrows.
"She's going to say 'no'," Wonyoung whispered over to Yunjin just in time for you to utter the exact word.
"No," you slipped out before shutting your mouth, rolling your eyes at the realisation. "We'll see,"
"She said 'we'll see', we're slowly moving to the light and out of denial,"
You nudged Yunjin, laughing softly. "Maybe," 
The match started off quite intensely, neither of the two teams wanted to back down or give way, instead only attacking harder. A few goals were scored before the third period arrived and the arena was alive with thrill.
Sunghoon was practically flying around, guiding the puck along and assisting his teammates, even achieving some assists himself. When the third period started, the teams only got fiercer, all eyes were on them.
That's when Jay skated past the oppositions and passed the puck to Sunghoon's end of his hockey stick, having the star player take control of the play now. Everyone was practically on their feet, the time ticking as Sunghoon worked his way through the defenders.
One hit of the stick and a swerve of his body, the puck landed into the net of the goalpost. Fans of the home team erupted in cheers, you three included, basking in the victory. Sunghoon's name showed up on the jumbotron, a loud blast of his name filled the arena and music played.
All while that was happening, Sunghoon searched for your figure again, making sure you were still there even when his teammates literally swarmed him. He never took his eyes off of you, and you knew that. You definitely didn't miss his wandering gaze throughout the game.
The game eventually came to an end. People were soon leaving the stands and you were ready to follow, but your best friends stopped you with a certain look on their faces. 
"Are you not going to find him?" Yunjin had her arms crossed.
"After all that?" Hands on hips, Wonyoung stared accusatory.
"I am," you assured, smiling at their demeanour. "He did text me beforehand saying how he wanted to meet me after the game,"
"You guys text?" Yunjin wiggled her eyebrows in interest.
"You're acting like we're living in the eighteen hundreds,"
"You know exactly what I mean,"
Wonyoung wrapped her arms around your shoulder. "We'll wait for you outside, call us when you're done with lover boy,"
"He is so not lover boy—"
"And you're so totally going to take that back one day,"
Yunjin's words did linger with you even after leaving them momentarily to find Sunghoon. The secret promise you had with yourself about not dating athletes or jocks was being threatened now, and you didn't like the thought of that. It wasn't your fault for being traumatised by them.
Somehow, something in you was keen to give Sunghoon a chance, and he was only winning your heart so far.
"Y/N!" 
You didn't realise how caught up you were with your thoughts until you heard footsteps and your name being called out. Sunghoon was jogging towards you, still in his hockey gear, silvery white hair glistening with sweat. You're being totally normal about this. Not.
"Hey!" You accepted his awkward side hug, him not wanting to get his sweat on you and you not knowing how to dodge his sweat. In the end, you two made it work somehow.
"You came," Sunghoon said breathlessly, as if he couldn't believe it, shining eyes staring back at you.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Sunghoon shook his head lightly, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's just sometimes people don't really care about me playing hockey when I invited them to come watch, so I assumed—yeah—and it sucks honestly,"
You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. "But hockey's practically your rock! Why would they not support you for this?"
Sunghoon shrugged with a sad smile. "Guess some people don't care,"
"They don't care enough,"
"But you do," 
Something about the way he looked at you during then had your heart beating wildly. His gaze ever so gentle and caring, his attention on you as if you were the only person that mattered. Everything in his eyes conveys its message wordlessly.
"Of course I do," your words came out in a whisper, the tension between you and him increasing till the point where you felt suffocated. 
"The playoffs are soon, I'd really love to see your face in the crowd," Sunghoon fidgeted with the ends of his sleeve, shyly avoiding your stare. 
"And I would totally love to see you play. Have I told you how good you were just now?"
Sunghoon laughed, looking highly amused. "Really? Stop, I'm about to blush,"
Noticing Sunghoon's playful side did warm your heart. You wondered how he was the more you got to know him. What was he like? What does he like and hate? He continued to keep you curious and wanting to know more. 
"I'm serious. You were really good,"
You could tell he was pleased, smiling a little too hard. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you,"
"Sunghoon!" 
You two turned around at the sound of his name, a tall lanky boy in the same hockey gear jogged towards where you were standing. If your memory didn't fail you, that person would be Heeseung, the captain of the team.
"Hey, the team's waiting, we have to discuss something," Heeseung nodded to a few guys waiting by the door, all of whom were staring in interest. It was then when Heeseung noticed your presence, acknowledging you with an awkward smile. "Sorry for taking him away,"
"It's fine," you reassured him. "I'll go first. I really enjoyed the game, text me, okay? See you, Hoonie!"
Everything happened too fast for Sunghoon to process entirely. By the time he waved and called out a 'bye', you were already a distance away. Yet, you made sure to turn around and wave goodbye to him one last time before disappearing past a corner. He was whipped. 
"'Hoonie', huh?" Heeseung threw an arm around him, thoroughly humoured.
"Oh, shut it,"
"Hoonie!" The guys waiting called out teasingly, further agitating their vice captain who grumpily stalked past them.
If there's one thing Sunghoon hated, it was people calling him 'Hoonie', but when it came to you, he could make an exception, and he certainly wouldn't mind hearing you say it a million times.
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"ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?"
Wonyoung and Yunjin were party goers. You? Not so much. 
Upon hearing the infamous campus jocks were hosting a party at their frat house, almost everyone got to their feet at once, your friends included. You weren't exactly complaining either, the frat house was huge, like ginormous. But a part of you still remained cautious.
"I mean, yeah?" Yunjin had her arm looped around yours, Wonyoung around her other arm, the three of you making your way to the house.
"Why? What's up?" Wonyoung asked, sounding concerned.
You waved it off, shaking your head. "It's nothing. Maybe I'm overthinking but there's just a feeling poking at me,"
"Is it the 'ex tingle'?"
"I hope not,"
The ex tingle was something you and your best friends discovered, it was something stupid yet strangely accurate. Honestly, it might sound ridiculous, but to you three, it was far from ridiculous. Once, you got a weird unexplainable gut feeling at a party and guess what? Your ex showed up. The other time, Yunjin had the same feeling and her ex rounded the corner, followed by Wonyoung bumping into her ex at a cafe.
From then on, it would continue happening here and there. Once would be a coincidence, but considering it was more than once, you figured it was a connection telepathically. 
"It's a jock party. As much as I don't want to pray for your downfall accidentally, one of them might be there," Wonyoung frowned, speaking the cold hard truth. Truthfully, you were numb to the sight of your ex, having to see them once in a while at a random party and them being somewhat well known, it was hard to avoid them.
“We'll be your ‘ex tingle’ for the night, Y/N,” Yunjin smiled comfortingly at you, cracking some random jokes and telling you two about the craziest stories on the way there, certainly getting your mind off everything. You were ready to take on the night. Maybe not until the point where you find yourself in someone’s bed.
The whole picture of drunk college students and randos making out by the pool already had you questioning your decisions when you got there. From your observations, the hockey players and footballers were here, joined with some other jocks too. Before you could form a conscious thought, Yunjin pulled you towards the kitchen where they had a makeshift bar, poured you a glass of some strong concoction she probably made. 
With one last gulp and a few words of affirmation to update one another, you parted ways with them and ventured into the deeper parts of the house alone, hoping you wouldn't end up regretting that decision. The music reverberated throughout the house, some were with their friends but many had partners accompanying, which totally did not make you feel slightly out of place.
The corridors were littered with people and you had to squeeze your way through. Among the many heads blocking your view, your eyes caught a particular bright one, white shining hair. Just when you thought you were getting excited to see a familiar face, the feeling was short-lived after you saw a girl by his side. You knew you shouldn't be disappointed. Consciously speaking you tried convincing yourself it was nothing, but when it came to your heart, it feels like you were punched in the guts.
They were close to each other, whispering and laughing. Then it occurred to you, maybe you were just like her. Another girl he gets and leaves, moving on without any committed feelings. It was probably a bad idea getting involved with another athlete, wasn't it?
Having a midlife crisis while being half drunk wasn't the best idea for the night. The relationship trauma you hadn’t fully healed from simply haunted you, but what you didn’t expect next was the literal physical embodiment of said trauma reappearing before you. The jock ex who happened to break your heart into pieces was leaning against a doorframe, making out with some girl.
That’s a double killer for the night. Where was Yunjin’s ‘ex tingle’ anyway?
Maybe choosing to go home and blast some Taylor Swift or Olivia Rodrigo songs would be a better healing option. But instead, you decided to choose a different type of peace by managing your way through the bodies of college students, towards a balcony you didn't even realise until then. 
Luck was fortunately on your side. The balcony was empty and unoccupied. There were small chairs for you to sit and spend the night doing nothing, plus the weather was perfect enough to sit out. That was it, you were going to have your alone time and sober up, hopefully not letting the idea of jumping down tempt you.
Staring into space and sitting uncomfortably on one of the small chairs has somehow caught someone's attention. You heard the glass door to the balcony open behind you, but you didn't really react until a second later, looking up just to see the person you were hoping to see. Sunghoon.
"Why're you all alone out here?" He carefully sat on the unoccupied seat next to you, testing the waters whether he could scoot closer, and you let him. He inched closer without you realising, shoulders pressed against each other now. 
"Just wanted to get out of there, it's stuffy," you shrugged, scrunching your nose a little. “Plus, I saw my ex too, what an eyesore,”
“Screw him,”
“Wow,” you stared at him, a hand on your chest, feigning shock. “You’re taking my side despite not knowing my ex,”
“Well, I believe you would do no wrong, it’s definitely him that’s the problem,”
“You’re not wrong, but you also have too much trust in me, Park,”
“Maybe, but that’s because I like you,”
You froze. Literally. Eyes wide and mouth agape. You swore you felt everything around you stop as well. Did he just—? There’s no way he said that, right?
There was a beat of silence before Sunghoon burst out laughing softly at your reaction, the cheesiest grin on his face. “What’s with that look?”
“I’m shocked,”
“That I like you?”
“Yes, but also the fact that you’ve said it so confidently,”
“Well, I’m confident in stating facts,” he shrugged nonchalantly, leaning in closer. “Do you like me?”
“Maybe,” you dragged out your syllables, getting flustered under the intensity of his gaze. Truthfully, you would be screaming ‘yes’ at once. But you know better, especially when Wonyoung’s first rule of flirting was to play hard to get, yet, there’s no promise in how long you’d last. “Wait, but aren’t you here with someone tonight?”
“Me?” he pointed at himself, seemingly confused. “I came here with Heeseung, that's all,” he said, but then, a certain realisation hit him and his expression morphed, a playful smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Did you perhaps see me with someone?” Was he some kind of mindreader?
“What—” you sputtered, getting busted and instantly flustered. 
“I saw you in the corridor just now before you rushed away, I didn’t think you saw me either,” he explained, searching for your escaping gaze as you were increasingly getting embarrassed. “That was Heeseung’s girlfriend, nothing more,”
“Oh,” Were you glad? Yes. But were you also embarrassed? Yes
“Just wanted to make it clear. Plus, I have nothing to hide from you, Y/N. I know you probably heard … things about the hockey team, and I can’t completely defend some of my teammates' behaviour, but you know, not all of us are like that,” he shrugged, gaze turning softer the moment it met yours. “I don’t just start something I don’t want. I make it clear if I want someone,”
His words were sincere, eyes never leaving yours as he said them. You both knew what you wanted there and then: each other. 
“I want your trust, even if it means that I have to gain it, I will,” he continued, close to you till the point where you could feel heat radiating off him. 
“I trust you, Hoonie, I do,” you whispered, and maybe it was the fact that you both were intoxicated, but shame was nonexistent. Sunghoon was speaking his mind, and you were letting your thoughts be known as well. “I do feel the same as you, I want you,”
You could tell your words had their effects on Sunghoon. His hands were balled up in a fist, trying to keep his composure with all his might, jaw clenched and breathing shallow. “As crude as I sound right now, I would love to fuck you again, but let me bring you out on a date first, please,”
You rolled your eyes at his shamelessness, showing the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream. Even so, you couldn’t really deny his offer either, but were you going to say that? Nope. “You’re such a gentleman, Hoonie,” you snickered, nudging him lightly.  “I'd love to go on a date with you,”
"You would?"
You nodded. "I wanna try this out,"
"Me too," he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek softly, gentle eyes staring back at you. "I won't let you down, pretty girl."
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“DO YOU THINK WE’RE MOVING TOO FAST?”
“You literally fucked before you even fully knew each others’ name. Trust me, I don't think so,”
You rolled your eyes at Yunjin's words, though it was mostly true. It was the weekend and Sunghoon stuck to his words like the gentleman he was, sending you a vague message: 'wear something comfortable'. Whatever that meant.
Yunjin was there the whole time trying to give you some bit of mental support as you got ready. All until she had to let you go when it was time to meet up with Sunghoon. 
He was waiting for you a few floors down your dorm room, and you unknowingly sped up your steps to get to him quicker. The moment you laid your eyes on his figure, you practically bounded towards him.
"Hoonie!"
Sunghoon instantly glanced up, recognizing your voice at once. The corners of his lips turned upwards, gaze softening and arms reaching out for you. "Hey,"
"Hi," you greeted back, accepting his hand and letting his fingers intertwined with yours.
"You look great," he complimented, even though you were in a simple outfit as per his request. It was the little things that got you.
"Thank you," you took the chance to scan his attire, one that was matching the same simplicity as yours. A white polo paired with dark blue jeans, rocking a minimalistic aesthetic. In conclusion, you want him … badly.
"What do you have in mind?" You asked as he guided you to the location of his car, even making the effort of opening the door for you. 
"Grab dinner and then bring you to my favourite place," he smiled simply.
"Your favourite place?" You wondered aloud, your curiosity making him smile wider.
"You'll see,"
Sunghoon brought you to a nice restaurant, one where he secretly made a whole reservation and booked a private area all without your knowledge. It was almost like that night where you had the unofficial date with him, except this time, things seemed different. In the short span of time, something between you and him brewed, and it was obviously lingering in the air.
The dinner was filled with laughter and getting to know a new side of Sunghoon. The man who seemed cold and mighty at first glance, star player of the hockey team, was actually just a softie at heart. He shared about his pet dog back at home, favourite movies and songs, random facts about himself that surprised you too much.
He was also a jokester that popped too many puns and dad jokes, but surprisingly, you couldn't get tired by it. Even when you talked and shared things about yourself, Sunghoon was all ears and maintained eye contact throughout, and you couldn't lie, at one point, you felt yourself under his gaze. 
That dinner lasted for almost two hours, but ultimately felt too short. Now it was finally time for the thing you've waited the whole night for: Sunghoon's mysterious favourite place.
All while Sunghoon drove, you got the chance to play your favourite songs on the radio, lip syncing to them, unaware of the dreamy look Sunghoon casted over at you once in a while, the cheesiest grin on his face. 
Sunghoon's car soon came to a stop, then he led you out and towards the place you anticipated. Your curiosity and interest only increased as you neared, until Sunghoon pushed open the door and switched the lights on, your mouth opened wide in shock.
You were in a skating rink, an empty one. How did Sunghoon manage to pull this one out? You had no idea. 
"You didn't steal the keys or break in, right?" 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your remarks, a look of amusement on his face staring back at you. "Surprisingly, no. I used to work here, and I got my friend who still works here to sneak the keys to me," he dangled the keys in his hand. "So, this is going to be a tiny secret between me, my friend and you, deal?"
You mimicked zipping your lips shut, excitement evident in your beaming features. "Deal,"
He flashed a smile at your gesture, not just any smile, but the sweetest one. The same one that reached his eyes, presenting you crescent moon-like shapes, gaze filled with endearment. Maybe because he did find you endearing.
"Come on, I promise I won't let you fall," he reached for your hand, pulling you close and you followed him wordlessly, letting him take the lead once more.
He picked out the skates of your size, knowing the place better, and soon came running back to your waiting figure on the bench. You were about to take them from him, but before you could, he was already on his knees.
"I'll help you," he said softly, and the moment you saw the genuinity in his eyes, you couldn't say 'no'.
"You worked here before? What did you do here?" You struck up a conversation as he helped the skates onto your feet, tying them up one after the other.
"Summer job. You know I can never leave the rink," he snickered under his breath. "Took up the job to coach the youths and beginners for hockey. It was humbling to say the least,"
"How so?" It was no lie you couldn't get your eyes off of the top of his head. His silver locks shined even brighter under the lights, the soft sheen of it enticed you to touch it. But that wasn't it, you just wished he could look up at that moment.
"Kids are a difficult bunch to deal with. They're either angels or devils, no in between," 
"Word. I did babysitting before and it was something I never want to do ever again," you recalled back to your own summer job during your teen years. 'Horrible' was all you could use to summarise it. "I would've loved seeing a hockey coach you though,"
Look up. Look up. Look up!
"Really?" With a final pull to the laces, he glanced up, brown irises locked with yours. He was close, and gosh, you were holding back every fibre of your body to not jump into his hold.
"It would've been cute," technically, you meant him. The sight of Sunghoon with kids was something you wished to witness.
He laughed, shaking his head lightly. "You amuse me, L/N,"
You shrugged. "What can I say? I have that charm. Now, are you going to take me skating or what?"
Sunghoon laughed at your bluntness, took your hand and walked towards the rink. There was no lie that you were actually scared to get onto the ice, being heavily inexperienced and having bad balance, that was a bad combo to have. You could trust Sunghoon … right?
"You're scared," his hold on you tightened the moment you stepped onto the ice, legs wobbly and hands grabbing frantically at him. "I got you,"
"I don't think I've got this in me,"
"You're giving up already?"
"Not giving up, just … doubtful,"
"We're changing that mindset today," he sounded too determined that it had you slightly taken aback. Your hold on him remained tight as he led you further into the middle, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do.
You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he was running through the basics with you, all you could focus on was him. The passion in his voice was hard to miss, his expressions scrunched up in concentration as he looked at you taking baby steps. Soon, you were able to skate a distance away from him on your own, it was a miracle that you couldn’t believe yourself.
“You’re getting a hang at this. Didn’t know you were such a quick learner,” he whistled as he skated towards you, a smile gracing his face.
“Had a good teacher, that’s all,” you manoeuvred awkwardly until you were in front of him, catching onto his arm instinctively.
His hands reached out for you as well, his touch light and gentle, matching the softness in his gaze that stared back at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or what his eyes were expressing, but all you knew was the air between you and him carried an unspeakable tension that you were both aware of. Something in you wished for him to pull you in closer, and maybe … just maybe, he heard your thoughts.
You let out a gasp when you felt his hold on you tightened and he tugged you in after, narrowly losing your balance but managed to keep yourself steady when your hands landed on his shoulder. Eyes wide, mind frazzled as you stared up at him, meeting his playful gaze and cheeky smirk.
You narrowed your eyes at him, though your expressions couldn’t hide your true feelings. “What was that for?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanted you close,”
He can’t just say that and expect you to not go crazy.
Two can play at that game. 
“You could’ve just said that,” your hold on his shoulder travelled slowly down to his arms until his hand which you took and placed on your waist, moving slightly closer to him, all while you maintained an unbothered front as he slowly crumbled.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he grunted out, eyes flickering, gaze lingering on your lips occasionally. 
You could only laugh quietly, removing yourself from him and skating away, his touch on your skin still burning. He skated alongside you, twisting and turning around, showing you his hidden skills until it became a chasing game out of the blue. You were skating after him, your movements still lacklustre, but what you didn’t notice was Sunghoon already stopping in front of you, yet you couldn’t find the right momentum to slow down. Oh no.
Inevitably, you crashed into his body right at that moment when he turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist without thinking. Off you two went falling onto the ice where Sunghoon landed on his back with a small thud while you fell on top of him.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, are you okay?” your words came out rushed, trying to push yourself up but the slippery ice only made you more clumsy. “Are you injured? Would this affect your performance when you play? You’ve got a game soon—”
“Sweetheart,” Sunghoon sighed, his head slightly raised. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” he casted you a reassuring smile. “So does this mean you’ve fallen for me?”
He was too unserious.
“Shut up. I know your back's hurting.”
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“IT'S GETTING SERIOUS,”
“It's so definitely is,”
Another night, another party with the girls. It wasn't surprising in any way, moreover, it would be more surprising if they didn't go out partying. 
You told them about the date, spilling what was needed to be split as per usual. But somehow, the discussion managed to last for over a few days, them still gushing and cheering you two on, already creating delusional scenarios. 
"We're taking it slow, okay?" 
It was indeed baby steps. A few dates and constant texting, you felt the rush and butterflies that you haven't experienced in a long while. 
"Well faster up, this ship needs to sail," Wonyoung said in frustration, being in the frontline of the Y/N and Sunghoon ship.
"It will," Yunjin whispered affirmatively to Wonyoung, while you just brushed it off with a quick roll of the eyes. "He's here tonight too," she nudged you, trying to get a reaction from you, to which you just shrugged casually, but realistically, you were feeling the opposite internally.
“I’m getting an ex tingle,” Wonyoung said, her eyes trained on somebody from a distance away. 
“Who?” you tried following her gaze, searching for the person in the crowd.
“Sunghoon's ex,” Wonyoung said with a certain distaste in her tone. “Gosh, I remember her. We used to be classmates back then, and she was the biggest fake I’ve ever met. We had a lecture together once when she was still dating him and you couldn’t believe the amount of times she was talking about him and saying how she’s dating a star player, it was insufferable,”
You and Yunjin exchanged a look that practically screamed ‘yikes’ before Wonyoung continued. “She’s Olivia Lee, by the way, bad reputation to her name. I wonder why they even dated in the first place, from what I heard, the relationship only lasted a month,”
“You’re kidding,” 
“I wish I was,”
“No way my ex is here too, I see him over there,” Yunjin groaned, momentarily switching the subject, earning both you and Wonyoung’s attention and diverted them to her ex. You forgot about Sunghoon’s ex and him in general as you and your friends shared crazy stories over a lousy cup of beer.
The night went on without seeing a single sight of Sunghoon, but that didn’t bother you at all. A couple cups of beer and some shots had you tipsy enough to stay in one corner while your friends went off dancing with guys from the frat. There you were, eyes threatening to shut and energy on low, you could really use a mattress right there and then. 
A stream of shouts and whoops welcomed whoever that was walking through the front door, which resulted in successfully capturing your attention and waking you up temporarily. ‘You’re late’ was complained by the host to the guys that were surrounded by too many people for you to distinguish. It was all too noisy and messy in the room, so you decided to take a quick run to the kitchen for a refill. 
The last you expected when coming out from the kitchen with your cup full was a white haired hockey player standing across the room, his eyes wandering around and searching through the crowd, until it landed on you. The one he was looking for, the one he could recognise even in a room full of people. 
His face lit up, trying to make his way to you and having to mutter awkward ‘excuse me’s, never breaking eye contact throughout his bee-line towards you. The moment he successfully got to you, he didn’t even say a word before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug.
“Hello,” you whispered in his ear as he rocked the both of you side to side.
“Hey, I’ve missed you—” Okay, that had your heart exploding. “I’m sorry for not being able to hang out much, I’ve been busy with practices. Coach has been on our asses,” he sighed when he slowly pulled away, smiling sadly.
“I get it, it’s fine,” you patted his shoulder in assurance. “We still text anyway, but hey, you didn’t tell me you’d be coming tonight,”
“I wasn’t going to, Heeseung and Jay dragged me here,” he nodded to the direction where both his best friends were, currently chugging down alcohol as if they were dying of thirst. “Which was a bad idea,” he murmured, and you knew what he was talking about.
“Forget about them,” you poked at his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Just enjoy the night, what could possibly go wrong?” 
Apparently, everything.
Sunghoon got roped away soon after by his best friends and you were pulled away by your own as well. It was all chill until you saw Sunghoon in a corner, his back facing you and the flailing of his hands were enough to tell that he was agitated. Your eyes averted to the right, and there she was, his ex. 
A sinking feeling grew in your stomach. The sight before you wasn’t even a good sign between them, there was nothing to worry about, but you just couldn’t help worrying for Sunghoon. Maybe because you were too focused on them, and the universe wanted you to worry for yourself instead, because just then, someone bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink.
“Hey! What the hell?” you hissed, flicking away the substance on your hand before turning to look at who the person was. Oh, he wasn’t just any person. It was Juyeon, aka, Mr Ex-Fuckbuddy from the football team.
“Bro—Y/N?” realisation dawned in both of your eyes, then it turned to equal annoyance. Last you remembered, things didn’t exactly go well at the end.
“Hey…” you faltered, not knowing whether to make the dash or to stay. 
“Haven’t seen you in awhile, how have you been?”
Was he seriously pulling the ‘how are you’ bullshit question?
“I’m doing amazing, sparkling and dazzling,”
Juyeon’s eyebrows were scrunched in a bunch, a look of doubt painted on his expressions. “Really? I didn’t think anyone else besides me would fuck better,”
You sharply inhaled. He was a douche, you knew that, but to have the audacity to be a cocky, annoying one was surely ticking you off. 
You scoffed. “Oh trust me, my last fuck was great, out of the world even,”
“I doubt that, who was it?”
“Why would I tell you? Why are you acting like those nosy asses out there, gosh,” 
He suddenly got a hold of your wrist, tugging you roughly and hurting you with his tight grip. “I know we’re done, but we could always call me up,”
“What? Let go of me!” you tried pulling your hand, but his grip was strong, and you were so close to yelling out, having a crisis internally and regretting letting your friends wander off.
“She said let go, asshole,” unexpectedly, Sunghoon’s gruff voice travelled into your ears. Before you knew it, he was standing right behind you, hand grabbing on Juyeon’s, an unrecognisable look on his face, one that was enough to have Juyeon to let go.
“I’m guessing you’re the one she’s fucking,”
“What?” both you and Sunghoon exclaimed in disbelief. To be fair, he wasn’t completely wrong though.
“Don’t play dumb, jackass. How good are you—”
You couldn’t stand it anymore, interjecting him. “Can you shut up? This has nothing to do with you. We weren’t even together,”
“I sure can fuck better than him—” 
What shocked you the most that night after a series of interesting events happened to be when Sunghoon landed a punch on Juyeon’s face. A gasp escaped you and so did everyone around. The people in the room slowed down what they were doing and had their attention on the two instead. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t about to be those typical cliches or Wattpad scenes where you stopped them both. But were you going to let them beat each other up? Hell no.
It took a moment before Juyeon composed himself and threw a punch back at Sunghoon, who only recovered quickly and reciprocated the punch. This wasn’t going to end well. Unfortunately, you didn’t know his friends enough to have their numbers, and all you could do was escape the crowd to locate them.
Finding them didn’t take long when they themselves had heard the commotion. You swore a headache was expecting you since you weren’t even fully sober enough for all this and the weight of everything around you was overwhelming. The feeling of watching both Heeseung and Jay pull Sunghoon out was complicated. You rushed over to check up on him, and everything eventually passed in a blur until you soon found yourself in his car.
It was inevitably silent and stuffy in the car. What happened before this felt like a haze. Sunghoon didn’t even bother cleaning up and left straight away, leaving everyone dumbfounded, including you. Yet, you couldn’t bear to let him leave like that, not when he was hurt. So, you did what you needed to do and followed him. 
He knew you were behind him, he just didn’t dare to look you in the eyes after the stunt he pulled. When you both reached his car, he turned around, mustering his calmest expression.  
“Let’s go,” he said softly and quietly before reaching over to the car door to open it for you. 
Now here you were, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t tell the thoughts going through his brain at that moment. How was he feeling? Was that wound on his lips hurting? 
“Hoonie, you know Juyeon is a douche, right? He acts like that to get on your nerves and it didn’t help that he was drunk too. Don’t let him get to you,”
A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, his grip on the steering wheel absentmindedly tightened. “I know, I just couldn’t believe it. The way he was speaking to you, how he acted and treated you—it made me mad, and the thing is, I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,”
“Like what?”
He seemed as if he wanted to say something he had been holding in for a long time, mouth agape and was ready to spill, but alas, he didn’t have the guts to do so, to tell you how he felt, his true feelings. He shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line. “It’s nothing, I've probably had a long night,” he mumbled, which you found odd, but you figured it wasn’t the right time to press on anyway. 
“Plus, I can’t believe you’d let an asshole like that fuck you,” he grumbled with a sour look on his face, frowning deeply and eyebrows etched together.
You let out a laugh, finding his reaction too amusing. “You’re jealous?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling a little.
“Those were desperate times, okay?” you said dismissively, even though most parts of it were true. “He doesn’t fuck better than you though, that’s for sure,” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he didn’t catch what you’ve just said, but judging from the cheshire grin, you figured he did.
Despite the sneaky remark from you, he was surprisingly silent, which gave you an opening opportunity to strike. There was another thing you were curious about and itching to know, the influence of alcohol simply not stopping you from blabbering anyway. “I saw you with your ex just now,”
At first, Sunghoon looked surprised that you'd brought it up, then he let out a barely audible sigh, lips flattened into a thin line as he ran a hand through his hair. "Just like you, I was bombarded by a drunk ex. I don't know what her problem was but she was having some one sided beef there. We didn't really end on good terms but I've moved on,"
He clicked his tongue, pausing for a moment. "Desperate times, you know?" He playfully quoted you, a knowing smile dawned on his face.
"And we're both moving past it,"
Sunghoon merely nodded, the smile remained on his lips. Slowly but surely, the tension diffused too, and you told Sunghoon some crazy party stories as a way to entertain yourself throughout the ride back to the dorm.
Walking back, Sunghoon had an arm around your waist, keeping you balanced as you tried to not stumble in your steps. “My dorm’s a little far from here, I think it’s at the other end? I don’t want to inconvenient you further so maybe I can go back myself—”
“Y/N, I’m not letting you walk to your dorm in the dead of the night when you’re not fully sober,” Sunghoon persisted, his hold tightening. “Just stay over at mine. I don’t think the guys will be back anyway, they’re probably going to pass out over there,”
“Really?”
“Really,”  
Sunghoon’s dorm room was exactly how you'd remembered it from that night. Slightly messy but still clean enough for it to not be a biohazard. The doors to their rooms had their names on it with tiny doodles as a decoration. Hockey sticks and gears littered the area, a whiteboard in the middle of the room with  drawn out tactics that you found interesting. 
“Nice … whiteboard you have over there,” you nodded at the big object overtaking their living room area, chuckling slightly.
“Easily the best Friday night game to have,” he smiled, helping you with your purse and giving you his hand when you took your shoes off. “I’ll get you some clothes to change into, you can sleep in my bed,”
“What about you?”
“I’ll sleep in the other room,”
You opened your mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Instead, you turned your attention to something else. “Hey—uh—your wounds, they’re not cleaned, aren’t they?”
Sunghoon halted in his steps, turning around smoothly to reveal his busted lips and a small bruise forming around his eye. He shook his head. You gestured for him to come closer, sighing a little. 
“I suppose you do have a safety kit around here, don’t you?” 
“Bathroom,”
It didn’t take you long enough to rummage through the cupboard in his bathroom to find the red safety kit, taking it along with you out to the room where he sat on his bed waiting. 
“I’m a little embarrassed, you know?” he said all of a sudden, with you applying the gel on his lips and him having to resist the pain, wincing once in a while. 
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen worse,”
“Me getting busted up in games is normal, but getting beaten up by some lousy footballer is a new low I never expected,”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. Truth be told, you were ignoring how close you were to him at that moment. He had his legs spread open, you standing in between, his hands resting comfortably by his sides on the bed. Honestly, it took you everything not to go insane.
“I just didn’t want it to be in front of you,”
“Why?” you said slowly, pressing the ice bag on his bruise now.
“There’s something called ‘saving face’,” he chuckled, hands making contact with yours atop the ice bag, eventually reluctantly having to remove yours from it. 
“Well, Park, I’m always ready to witness a new side of you,”
Sunghoon let out a laugh of amusement, head tilted to the side with a small grin. “You haven’t seen the singer side of me yet. We need to go karaoke one day,”
“Writing that down later,”
“You should be sleeping instead, sweets, it’s late,” he straightened up, poking your arm gently. “Talk tomorrow?”
You nodded, unable to push down the feeling of disappointment that you had to go to bed already. “Don’t leave the ice bag melting in your room!” you called out as he exited, him only responding with a dismissive wave. 
Was it bad that as you changed in his room and got ready for bed, you secretly craved his presence? It probably was. Your promise to yourself about keeping your heart safe was gradually breaking. Something about him just made you open your heart easier, as if he was just too easy to love. Even when you tucked yourself into the familiar sheets of his, you thought of him. The bed felt lighter unlike the last time you were here. 
Time was passing but you seemed to be awake, wondering what the girls were up to after seeing their last messages, pondering if you should get out of bed for a cup of water. Your internal monologue got interrupted once you heard the door creak, heavy footsteps filled the room before you felt a dip in the bed.
You turned around, opening your eyes in an instant, meeting Sunghoon’s tired ones in the dim glow from the night light. “Hoonie?”
He turned frantic and sat up, probably not expecting you to be awake. “Sorry. I–I can leave if you want to,”
You shook your head, patting the spot next to you. “Stay. It’s fine,”
“You sure?”
“I am. This isn’t our first anyway,” you tucked yourself in, watching Sunghoon’s careful movements as he made himself comfortable. “I’m guessing you can’t sleep because it wasn’t your bed, huh?”
“Bingo,” he yawned out. “What about you? I didn’t think you’d be awake now,”
You shrugged, reaching over to sweep the loose strands away from his face. It might’ve been a small gesture, but at that moment, Sunghoon froze. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep,”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“You’d want to know?”
He considered for a second, then shook his head softly, his gentle smile gracing his features, one that shone even in the dark. “I’ll keep myself curious. Let’s talk in the morning or else we’ll be some sleep deprived zombies. Night, Y/N,”
“Night, Hoonie.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes after he had done so. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were barely inches away from him, the close proximity had your skin grazing against each other. You wanted to reach over and trace the moles on his face, to count each of his breaths and heartbeat, but you held yourself back, merely basking in his presence until you slowly drifted off to sleep yourself.
Truthfully, it had been him that occupied your thoughts. You were thinking about him. He was solely the reason you couldn’t sleep. 
Park Sunghoon. What were you doing to me?
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"YOU'RE COMING BACK, RIGHT?"
Holiday season was coming soon and break was approaching. You were packing some clothes for your short stay back home until your phone rang, noticing it was your mother who'd called.
"I am," you said, glancing around the floor that happened to be a mess of clothes. "Aren't you happy I'm coming home this year?"
"Of course I am," she exclaimed. "But you know what's exciting too?"
"What?"
"Mrs Park and her family are coming over for dinner during the holidays!"
Oh. My. God. 
"Huh?"
"Mrs Park? You've met her!"
"Since when were you buddies with her?" You abandoned your packing, now standing up with your hand on your hips.
"Since you were gone, hello? Can't I make some friends?"
"That's not what I meant,"
"Well, she's nice and we have a lot of things in common. Plus, aren't you friends with her son?"
"Uh—" 'friends' was maybe not the most suitable word to describe your relationship with him.
"Whatever it is, get close to him. You know how charming he is—"
"I get it, mum, not setting me up with someone for a day won't kill you,"
"You being single will kill me eventually," she grumbled on the other end, but you decided to wave it off. "Anyway, come back as early as you can, I need help, okay?"
"I will,"
"Bring your friend over too since she's dropping you off. Jennifer, was it?"
"She's the one,"
"I'll pack her some food. Bye." 
"Bye," you ended the call with an exasperated sigh, falling into bed and kicking your clothes away. 
How were you to survive the holidays when Sunghoon was coming over? 
You weren't.
The days leading up to it were long and it didn’t help that it was. When the time came, you still hadn’t gotten a proper grip of yourself to face him either. You couldn’t even explain the reason you felt nervous seeing him. Was it because you haven’t seen him in person for a while? His text messages were nothing but excitement about seeing you again, and you couldn’t lie, it made your heart flip. 
Your efforts to make yourself more presentable definitely didn’t go to waste. The moment Sunghoon entered the comforts of your home, his eyes never left yours and your figure. Neither could yours. He was dressed formally, a suit paired with a black tie, hair combed neatly. He knew he had an effect on you and he sure was utilising it well. However, you were affecting him in the same way. 
After your mother’s over enthusiastic welcome and overflowing compliments to Sunghoon, you and him were finally left alone. Your mother made sure to give you a knowing glance before leaving, which totally screamed, ‘go get your man’ and you knew she was not backing down.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he whispered to you, greeting you in the absence of each other’s parents who wandered off to the dining area, leaving you two by the door. “You look amazing tonight,”
“Thank you, kind sir,” your hands travelled up to his tie. “You’re very handsome too,” you’ve never seen him in a suit before, and you were very much eating up every part of it now.
“Thank you,” he said, a sense of tenderness in his gaze and voice. “How was your holiday? How’s it going?”
“Nothing much. I’ve done some shopping and lazed around, that’s all,” it was true, being back home, you wanted to do nothing and eventually submitted to staying in bed or calling the girls once in a while. “You?”
“Trained a little—force of habit—played games, watched movies, and even helped Jay plan a date,”
“Seriously?”
He laughed a little, but nodded in response, the dimples on his face making you swoon secretly. There was a pause between you and him, but then you spoke up, unintentionally slipping out your inner thoughts to him.
“Can I be honest?”
“Yeah,” he responded without a doubt.
“I missed you,”
Sunghoon most likely didn’t expect the words that poured from your lips. Hell, he seemed to be in disbelief that you actually said it. Although his cheeks didn’t flush red, the tips of his ears did give it away, turning scarlet by the next second. He let out a cough, trying to mask his reaction.
“I missed you too,”
If you could explode now, you would. The corners of your lips were twitching, eventually stretching into a smile, a feeling of giddiness that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbled internally. Sunghoon’s nose crinkled with a wide smile, his eyes filled with a type of affection that no one else could mirror. 
“Guys, let’s eat!”
It was time for dinner, but you simply wanted to stay by the door with Sunghoon. He waited for you to join his side first before leaving, hands instinctively reaching for yours but then again, it was a dinner with your family around, the two of you had to be more lowkey, so all he could was retract his hand. But when he pulled the chair for you, he made sure to slyly place his hand on your waist, eliciting a small gasp and narrowed gaze from you.
Cunning bastard.
Throughout the dinner, Sunghoon didn’t hide how obvious his attention was on you. At all. The occasional glance from Sunghoon was something you didn’t miss, neither was his laughter that filled your ears or his attentiveness whenever you talked. The exchange of brief smiles and knees coming in contact from time to time had your mind on a shutdown, you couldn’t get him off your mind. 
When it was time for dessert, your families shifted to the living room area to talk over glasses of wine, once again leaving you two together. There was nowhere else you could be alone with Sunghoon other than your room, so you made the most sane decision by dragging him there, hoping your parents wouldn’t think you’re up to something unright.
“I didn’t strike you as a rock fan,” he glanced around your room, specifically at the posters of rock bands that you kept up since you were fourteen. 
“Me too,” you joked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “It was a phase I had years back,”
“Emo rocker teen phase?”
“I guess you can say that,” you patted the empty spot next to you, hoping he’d come and join you. “I don’t have games to entertain you here though,”
“Haha,” he said flatly and sarcastically, accepting your silent offer and joined your side, feeling the slight dip of your bed. 
“You know, you’re the first guy I welcomed into my room,”
“I am?”
You nodded, shifting awkwardly from the short length of your dress that continuously hiked up. “I don’t really know what to do,”
“You don’t need to, we can just do nothing,” he reassured, bumping your shoulder softly. “We can talk if you want to?”
“I’d love to,” you smiled, not expecting a different kind of intimacy, maybe the best kind even. “Will it be weird to ask if we can lie down?”
“Not at all, sweets,”
Sunghoon happily obliged your request, stripping his suit blazer off, then making sure to take his shoes out before he lied down and got comfortable in those sheets of yours. You, however, could call yourself a mastermind. Not knowing your simple request could somehow let you witness Sunghoon in his white button up and black tie paired with his dishevelled silver hair, you created a new kind of girl dinner for yourself.
You hid your gaze and lied down next to him, feeling the warmth emitting from his body and his cologne entering your senses. It didn’t take long for you to regret your choices and surrender to the fact that you were not God’s strongest soldier.
“How’s hockey going?” you broke the ice (pun intended) first, turning your head a little to sneak a peek of him.
“It’s alright, I suppose?” you felt him shrugging beside you, shoulders brushing against yours for the millionth time. At this point, he should just hold your hand, and you’re also going to pretend you never thought of what you just said. “There was this crazy time a few games back where Heeseung fought someone. I wasn’t surprise that he did since he tends to pull this type of shit but wow,”
You let out a scoff in disbelief and surprise. The sweet looking captain was a hothead on ice? You couldn’t believe that. “What for?”
“Someone talked shit about his now girlfriend, which was totally reasonable for him to punch the guy honestly,”
“It is! Go him,” you said in awe, reaching over to poke his cheek, which obviously startled him before he relaxed into your touch. “Tell me more hockey stories, there’s probably lots of drama, right?”
“Where do I begin?” 
Time passed too fast with the way Sunghoon told his stories and you hated the fact that it did. All of the stories he told were extra entertaining when he flailed his hands around dramatically, making sound effects and even acting them out, increasing your adoration for him unknowingly. He was just so cute. But then again, fun didn’t last long when it reached the end of the night and the Park family was ready to leave for home.
You were bidding his parents goodbye before you reached him, standing by the door the same as earlier, having the same emotions and mirroring the same smiles. Secretly, you didn’t want him to leave. What you didn’t know was neither did he, he wished to have you laughing next to him again.
“Thanks for having me tonight,” he said, suit blazer held in one hand. “And especially for your room tour, I loved those posters,”
You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m glad you were here tonight,”
Somehow, in your words, it spoke much more than it had been said. The emotions conveyed from it was just enough for him to know, to realise.
“I’m glad you were with me too.”
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“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SAW SUNGHOON PARTYING WITH A GIRL?”
You swore a blood vessel was about to burst on a Saturday morning.
“I was sober, alright? And if you guys were with me yesterday, you would’ve known,” Yunjin took a sip out of her specially made hangover cure, wincing for a second. 
“You know we’re not falling for that,” Wonyoung bit back, leaning in with a questioning look. “Now spill,”
“I saw him yesterday at the party with this girl, got pretty handsy and really close, I’m not sure if they kissed or anything,” 
“What happened after?” you asked out of curiosity, slowly losing the war of not giving a fuck.
“I don’t know, didn’t see them,”
Wonyoung gasped under her breath, raising her eyebrows. “That bitch,”
Yunjin shrugged, finishing the last of her drink. “Well, it’s not the best to write him off that quick,”
“I mean, we’re not even dating, he can do whatever he wants,”
“Don’t pull that card here please,” Yunjin had her hand up, both her and Wonyoung staring at you like hawks. “You can’t pretend you two don’t have the hots for each other,”
“Well, you’re not wrong,”
“We know, love,” Wonyoung’s smile turned sinister, a plan already up her sleeve, an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Which is why, you should go on a date,”
“What?”
“Oh my god, spite him,” Yunjin jumped on Wonyoung’s idea almost immediately. “Go text him you’re getting ready for a date or something, make him jealous,”
“He’ll come running, trust me,” Wonyoung clapped her hands, already scheming up a master plan. “I have a candidate in mind, he’s a friend of mine,”
You and Yunjin looked at Wonyoung expectantly, her smile turning into a smirk. “A player from a rival team. Eric Sohn.”
If there was something Yunjin and Wonyoung excelled at, it was being masterminds. You couldn't believe you got yourself roped into this plan of theirs, but maybe you just needed a small push, and so did Sunghoon.
First step: tell him about your date plans.
hooners: you're going on a date?
you: yeah :// wonyoung set me up with this guy
hooners: i seee, where are you having it?
you: at the place nearby, Atelier I think?
hooners: ooo, have fun!
'Have fun' was definitely typed with zero genuinity, which also meant your plan was working.
“He's taking the bait. Now, onto the date,”
Eric was a nice guy. You didn't know what Wonyoung managed to bribe him with but surprisingly, he was willing to go out on a date, except he didn't know it was a plan to make his hockey rival jealous. Awkward.  
The next step that Wonyoung claimed would be helpful was taking pictures to post on your Instagram after. A picture on your story would be enough to spur him and get him texting you back, or so she claimed.
Eric was in the middle of telling you about his course and his random hockey stories when he paused out of nowhere. His gaze averted over your head to somewhere else, an eyebrow raised in question.
“I—uhm—Y/N, is that someone you know? He won’t stop staring,”
You turned your head around, following Eric's gaze only to find Sunghoon looking back at you.
This wasn't part of the plan.
He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk greeted you. Both of his friends Jay and Heeseung were accompanying him too, but unlike him, they seemed clueless to the fact that you were there.
You stiffly turned back to face Eric, nodding slowly. “It's … complicated, don't mind him or his friends. How's your pasta?”
It would've been easy to ignore Sunghoon if only he wasn't staring at you from time to time and you could feel his burning gaze. He was purposely making this hard for you and you were pissed that the plan was somehow backfiring. So, while Eric was taking his toilet break, you took the chance to text Sunghoon, typing rather angrily.
you: what are you doing here?
hooners: out for dinner with the boys
you: HERE?
hooners: what’s wrong with this place? is the food bad?
He’s got to be kidding.
you: you know what i mean
you: i’m going to strangle you!!!!
hooners: yeah? what else?
You glanced up from your phone, whipping your head to the table he was sitting at, scoffing in disbelief. Trying to continue the last hours of your date was about to be a challenge for you and you were going to be a fighter even if it meant you were crumbling internally. 
Ignoring the obvious presence in the room was hard, but despite that, you managed to end your date successfully. You were mentally clapping yourself on the back and cheering happily. Eric, being the sweet gentleman he was, offered to drive you back, but you declined, instead, bidding him goodbye with a friendly hug.
You watched as he drove off, finally being left alone outside the restaurant’s parking lot, or so you thought.
“That was something,”
Park. Sunghoon.
“Mind explaining why you came here crashing my date?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘crashing’,”
“Really?” you stared accusingly at him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
Sunghoon coughed, adjusted his posture and put on a serious expression. “Well, that’s b–because I wanted to check up on you in case—I don’t know—something goes wrong. I know when someone’s an asshole and I don’t want you dating an asshole,”
“Thanks? He was actually such a sweetheart,”
You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Why’re you out on a date anyway?” 
“It just happened,” you shrugged, playing nonchalant even though you were feeling the opposite of that. “Why were you getting handsy with a girl yesterday?”
Sunghoon blinked, then again before realisation dawned on him. “Are you jealous?”
“Are you jealous?”
“I am. Now, don’t try changing the subject,”
For a moment, his straightforwardness caught you off guard and made you pause. His bluntness was something you’d always be surprised of. You kissed your teeth, heaving a breath in. “Fine, I am. I know you don’t owe me anything since we’re not official or whatever, but I didn’t expect you out there dancing with another girl … I thought I meant something to you,”
“You do! You mean more than just something to me, Y/N,” Sunghoon bursted out, his desperate eyes searching for yours. “Gods, I got drunk yesterday and I admit, we danced a little too … close, but after that I tried brushing her off before it escalated. I left before anything else happened, which meant nothing happened at all, seriously,”
Were you feeling stupid? Very much so. But were you somewhat glad? You were. Misunderstandings were going to be the death of you always.
“I’d never lie to you, Y/N, never in a million years” he continued on, stepping closer to test the waters. You gave him the greenlight.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed out as you felt him engulfing you in a hug, melting into his touch. “I can’t believe I’m overreacting,”
“You’re not. I would’ve reacted the same, except I wouldn’t have the balls to tell you,” he rubbed your back in comfort and reassurance, your embarrassment soon dissipated and you laughed quietly at what he said. 
“Just like today?”
“Kinda?” He was still stubborn enough to not admit it.
You slowly pulled away, but his hands were still around your waist, holding you close to him. “I trust you, Hoonie. I’m sorry I doubted you for a second,”
“You’re okay, Y/N, really. I know I’ve still yet to fully gain your trust and I get it. You’ve gotten hurt in the past, I know, but I promise I won’t do the same. You have to let me into your heart just as much as I do,”
“Oh Hoonie,” you said softly, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him back into a hug, both of your hearts fluttering without each other’s knowledge. “I promise I will.”
At that point, you’ve unknowingly already given up your heart to the man before you, surrendering to him. Because you, too, were willing to give up anything for him, just the same as he felt.
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“SO, YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SUNGHOON IN A WHILE?”
Being back home when your parents were away on vacation was a relaxing time for you. Spring break came sooner than you expected. Not only did you get the place to yourself, but also the car for you to drive yourself in and out at any time now that you’re home. It was heavenly. 
Wonyoung stopped by for a visit to keep you company, and you expected some chill time together by painting nails, watching movies, singing karaoke, but no, instead, she started digging Sunghoon related information from you. What was her objective? To get to the bottom of why you and Sunghoon weren’t making any advancements, especially in recent weeks of no updates.
“I’ve been busy, he’s been busy, so I guess that’s why,” you mumbled, not realising how disappointing it was until you’ve said it out loud. The text messages he sent were getting less, the times you’ve met up weren’t much. You were pushing these feelings and thoughts down without knowing, finally revealing them now when Wonyoung brought it up. “I feel like he’s avoiding me, actually,”
“What makes you think that?”
“We always have dinner together every Friday, or we try to eat together at least once a week, but lately, he’s been saying that he’s busy. Then, the other time I saw him, he just waved and dashed away, that’s all. We’ve been texting but it felt less than usual,”
“Oh, Y/N,” Wonyoung wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in. “Maybe he’s going through something. I say, give it a little more time, and if it’s still like this, go confront him. There’s nothing better than communication and talking it out,”
“You’re right, maybe I just find him soon,”
“But first, you need some self healing. Come on, let’s watch some movies and put on facial masks,”
Dusk soon fell upon the skies and you ended the day off with another classic 2000s movie playing in the background. Wonyoung was busy showering while you lounge comfortably on the couch, unaware of what’s happening miles away until you heard your phone buzzing with continuous notifications.
jay: Y/N!!! are you here tonight?
you: JAY!!! and where is ‘here’ supposed to be?
jay: the arena duhhh, there’s a game tonight, but it ended already
jay: we won btw ;)
you: really? i wasn’t told of it :(( but yayy! congrats! 
jay: thank you! and huh? i thought hoon would’ve told you
you: he didn’t …
jay: speaking of hoon, the thing is … he’s been acting strange all game and idk what’s up with him
you: ?
jay: it’s weird. he’s been very aggressive tonight and that’s so unlike him. he’s not the type to be like this
jay: did something happen between you two? he’s been a little off lately 
you: i don’t know too jay, that’s the problem i’ve been facing too
Jay's messages kept circling your mind endlessly even after Wonyoung left and you were ready to call it a night. It wasn't a coincidence that even Sunghoon's best friend found his behaviour odd, something must've been wrong.
You were in bed, snugged in your blankets, phone in one hand scrolling through your Instagram feed, but you couldn't stop the feeling that itched you. Rather than going to sleep, you couldn't help pressing into the messaging app, silently hoping for a notification to pop up from someone.
Sighing deeply, you gave up your last piece of hope and decided to ignore the distress you were feeling. Turning around and calling it a night, you didn't expect your wishes to be heard right at that moment.
Ding.
It came from your phone. 
In a blink of an eye, you got up immediately and let the bright light of your phone disorient your eyes. 
hooners: are you up?
hooners: i'm outside right now
Outside? Where?
hooners: your house btw
No way.
You scrambled out of bed, almost tripping in your steps and raced to your window looking like a crazed person. There he was, Park Sunghoon, flesh and bones, anxiously waiting by his car and taking peeks at your window, not noticing you.
In those years of living in your house, you've never run down the stairs as fast as you've just done. Swinging the door open, you faced the white headed hockey player.
"Y/N," he started, moving closer, though hesitant. 
"Sunghoon,"
His actual name sounded foreign from you, and it only made him realise how much he’s fucked up, but somehow, hearing you say his name brought him comfort after the time away from you. Maybe he was just insane but who knows.
“What are you doing here? It's late,” you continued, nerves creeping up on you. 
“I wanted to come see you,”
Now he’s done it.
“After avoiding me for weeks on end?”
“I wasn’t—” Sunghoon’s first instinct was to defend himself, but then he realised that you had a point, and in fact, he was the idiot here. Not to mention, an asshole too.
Your grip on the door tightened, an unexpected feeling of frustration welled up. “You sure? Look, Hoon, I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but it feels like you're pushing me away gradually. Maybe it isn't obvious, but it's the little things … and it hurts,”
“I know that I've been an asshole, and that I've been treating you unfairly, but there's just so many things going on in my head right now,”
“You don't get to do that,” you murmured, shaking your head and not believing the excuse he gave, one that you've heard many times from others. “Tell them to me, then! I'm here, Hoon, I'm always here if you need me. Don't push me away, please,”
Sunghoon was dying internally from the stupidest excuses he gave, and after hearing the desperation in your voice, he swore he was about to break soon. “I can't tell you about them,” he said quietly, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.
“Why not?” Your frustration grew, stubbornness evident, meanwhile his patience thinned. “You told me to trust you and I do, but do you not trust me? Why can't you let me in your heart?”
“It's not that … not at all … no,” 
“Then what is it?!” 
“God—It's because I like you! I'm in love with you, Y/N,” 
Love?
“It’s not that I’m not letting you in my heart, it’s just—” Sunghoon’s resolve was breaking, he simply couldn’t bear holding in the truth anymore, showing his vulnerability, “—I’m scared,” 
You were stunned to say the least, but you kept silent, letting him continue. 
“Over the past weeks, I’ve been figuring out what my feelings were, I wanted to make things clear. At one point, I just wanted to reveal it all to you, but everytime I see you I feel like I'm about to burst,” he ran a hand through his hair out of habit, clearly distressed, “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was scared I’ll fuck up, but in those days, I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you too,”
“I was a mess and I didn’t want you to see me like this, I’m sorry,” he took a step closer, your hand wanted to reach out for him, but you found yourself frozen in place. “I couldn’t get you off my mind all game. I knew I just had to tell you tonight,”
You didn’t know what to say. He liked you? Wait, no—he’s in love with you. The best part was that you felt the same, but were you also angry at him? You were.
“You’re so stupid,” you punched his shoulder, gaze narrowed at him after a solid minute of taking everything in. “I can’t believe you were avoiding me,” you mumbled, your rage dissolving into affection, your heart melting and you felt light headed. “But I understand, Hoon, I just wished you didn’t push me away,”
“I know,” he closed the space in between and pulled you close, hugging you and practically caged you in his arms, not that you were complaining. “I’m sorry,”
“I forgive you,” you ran your hand on his back in an attempt to reassure him. “I like you too, Hoonie, if that’s what you’re wondering,”
He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you could feel his smile. “You always know what I’m thinking,”
“Hold on,” you pulled away slowly, your hand absentmindedly travelling to the back of his neck. “Does this—are we—”
“Officially together?” he finished your sentence, causing you to break into an amused smile. “I've been dying to ask this for a long time—well, Y/N, can I be your boyfriend?”
“You’re so cheesy!” you hit his chest, bursting out laughing and your laughs became infectious, resulting in him doing the same. “Yes, Park, I’d love to be your girlfriend,”
“So … as my girlfriend, can I kiss you right now?”
“Say less,” 
The moment you crashed your lips onto his, you swore you saw stars. His lips melted softly against yours perfectly. Without thinking, your hands pulled him in with force and your skilled effort managed to close the door behind you, only giving Sunghoon the chance to push you against it immediately.
He let out a soft groan which only sent butterflies down in your abdomen (plus somewhere else that you wouldn't admit there and then), his hands exploring the span of your body just as much as yours did to him. Knowing that you liked him back and getting to kiss you after months of pining had Sunghoon feeling as if he was on top of the world, he just couldn't get enough especially when he hasn't been close to you for weeks.
By the time you two pulled away from one another, you were both breathless and a panting mess, you were craving for him still and the fire burning in his eyes was enough to tell you that he felt the same. His hand travelled up to your cheek, gaze flickering between your irises to your lips, the tension thick enough for you to suffocate in. 
“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered, both your lips lingering close enough to  brush against each other, and it totally drove you insane knowing he was doing this on purpose.
You nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘yes’ and Sunghoon had never been more relieved, practically chasing after your lips as he dove back in and kissed you once more. He tilted his head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, pouring his utmost love, desperation and devotion into it, conveying an unspoken truth of affection and pining he had for you.
The night might’ve turned into a blur but it was one where you didn’t want to leave each other’s side. ‘Can you stay over tonight’ was answered with a yes and you welcomed him into your bed, staying up pouring secrets and your hidden truths.
What started as an impulsive and reckless night together turned into a blossoming love that you were hoping and dying to keep. A love that you were sure would last for evermore.
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IT WAS NO SECRET THAT YOU AND SUNGHOON LOVED EACH OTHER TILL THE POINT WHERE IT WAS SICKENING TO OTHERS. YOU TWO MADE THAT VERY CLEAR AND OVERLY OBVIOUS.
Yunjin and Wonyoung were accepting of him, especially after he paid for your meals with them that definitely won them over. What could you say? You and your friends were suckers for free food and little things. His friends were equally friendly and chill, welcoming you to their gatherings and games.
But other than that, both sides were also increasingly sick of you two, in an affectionate way of course. Maybe they didn’t say it, but they were. Wherever you went, he followed; wherever he went, you followed. You were simply stuck to the hip. So, in their defence, you two resembled a lovesick couple that was still in their honeymoon phase except that phase lasted for almost a year. It was rather insufferable in the beginning, but after months towards a year, they’ve gotten used to it and found it sweet instead.
Example A. At any given chance, your name would be mentioned and so would his. Sunghoon would be caught giggling at his phone pre games in the locker room, sporting your hairband on his wrist and even having a necklace with your initials on it, claiming that it was his lucky charm. Whenever he brought you round to dinners with his best friends and their partners, you and him practically blinded the rest with the amount of love you had for one another. It couldn’t be described, it was all in the gazes and small touches that conveyed the message. Unaware about it, you and him were oblivious and trapped in your bubble.
Example B. You were just as obnoxious as him. Having a picture of him as your wallpaper and creating playlists for him, your friends were gasping at the way you were acting. Hoonie this and Hoonie that, you almost became your mother. Safe to say, you were both made for each other with the same level of obsession and delusions. Your friends were happy for you two nevertheless, and they were mostly glad that you managed to find someone compatible.
Speaking of your mother, the time when you broke the news to her, you knew she would be elated, and she was. The first time you brought him back home, your mother greeted him with wide open arms, having the best dinner ever. It was the same for his parents. They were just as welcoming and loving, crushing your nerves when you went over to meet them.
Life might be stressful still but it was going great for you. There you were in your room rushing a last minute holiday assignment, bummed out that you were missing one of Sunghoon’s game, currently only getting crumbs by waiting for his messages and seeing him days after for your date. 
By the time you were halfway through your assignment, you were dozing off, phone placed in ‘do not disturb’ mode, not knowing that your phone was receiving messages then. 
Knock. Knock.
The sound coming from the window definitely got you awake at once. Alarmed and wary, you got up from your chair and slowly turned around to where your window was. But the sight you were witnessing before you had you relieved and sighing. 
It was Sunghoon, and he was hanging on for dear life, somehow still managing a lopsided smile for you. 
Despite still being surprised, you shook it off and rushed over to pull the windows open to let him in, wondering how in hell did he pull off climbing up to your window unharmed. Helping yank him through the window was enough workout for the week, but you got him in thankfully without making any odd or loud noises that might wake your parents up.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, rather breathlessly, snaking an arm around your middle, pulling you in naturally.
“Hi,” you whispered, letting him lean down to pepper kisses all over your face, travelling from your forehead to your cheeks before it landed on your lips. “I thought you’re coming over on Saturday?”
“I wanted to come find you,” he smiled against a haste kiss, face beaming. “The team won big tonight and I was sad you weren’t there. You’re basically my lucky charm,”
“Well, your lucky charm is stuck home doing her assignment,” you frowned, pinching his cheek softly. “Will you be staying over? It’s late, and you’re driving,”
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course I do,”
Sunghoon could never say ‘no’ to you.
“I’ll stay with you,” 
“I have clothes from which you left last time,” you noted, pursing your lips as you think of where you’ve put them. “I’ll go get them for you,”
“It’s fine,” he grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking another step from him. “Later, maybe. I just want you here,”
Trying to feel so normal and unphased from what he just said, which totally failed. His words got you grinning like an idiot, and you knew you should be getting used to his unprompted affection with words, but it still surprises you and makes you flush at times. 
“Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you joked lightly, to which he caught on easily.
He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. “Oh yeah? I’ll beat him up right now,”
“He’s probably going to fuck you up,”
“He probably stinks!”
“Yeah he does!”
“Hey!” he laughed, wrapping both his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. Contrary to what you’ve just said, he actually smelt really good. Fresh from a shower and having the specific scent of that heavy cherry shampoo you bought for him, you could die in his arms at that moment.
“I love you,”
Your tiredness and drowsiness evaporated once you heard what he’d said. It wasn’t a part of your hallucinations, right? He said it clearly and loudly, it definitely was something you couldn’t miss at all. 
“I–is something wrong?” Your momentary disassociation and silence worried your boyfriend who tried checking up on you as he pulled away slowly. You shook your head, wasting no more time to tell him what you feel.
“I love you too,” 
His stare softened, the worry in his gaze turned to relief. The biggest smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned into crescents and the constellations of moles shone brighter than ever. There were times where Sunghoon felt actual happiness. Ones where he won championships and important games, childhood memories, but this was surely going to be a new addition. 
“Should we call it a night soon?”
“Are you just trying to get me to cuddle you?”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, though not denying it. “Yes,”
Letting out a soft chuckle, you knew him by now, his patterns and the littlest details about him. Shaking your head slightly, your face had a playful grin plastered on. “Race you to it?”
“You’re challenging a pro-athlete now?”
“Hm, maybe?” you didn’t even give him a second before dashing away to your bathroom, leaving him stunned and frozen. 
“Hey! That’s so not fair!”
“Boohoo! Got a head start!”
“Unfair!”
If this was what it’s like to be with Sunghoon, you’d never trade it for anything, even if he’s an annoying sassy man at times. Never in a million years would you have expected yourself dating the star player of the hockey team, player number 23. He showed you colours and taught you a secret language you couldn’t see with anyone else. He showed you what love meant and what it was worth. 
The road that led to him and this might’ve been questionable and long, not to mention, crazy and stupid, but alas, there was so much love and affection that couldn’t be measured. It was a crazy, stupid, love. 
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taglist: @1800-beomgyu @yawnzshit @shinrjj @skzenhalove @taekwondoes @lalalalawon @ce1ight @enhacqke @winteringdream @strvlveera @rikisly @rikakhai @renchai @sievenderz @fariylixie0915 @enhastolemyheart @ckline35 @imhuh @yenqa @jayfrvr @tobiosbbyghorl @liikno @vizstars @kells5595 @addictedtohobi @rikisly @luvkpopp @delulu4-life @leep0ems @moonlighthoon @internet-folks @flwrshee @beansworldsstuff @bitehee @asyleums @luv4cheol @yur1a1 @dammit-jjk @kjrcrz @jhopesucker @enhaz1 @lilriswife4life @jenblovescatsbro (bolded can't be tagged)
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special thanks to those who've been here since the start. i'm super thankful and i know who exactly you are! so shout out to all of you and i hope you'll look forward to my future works. as for those that tune in from time to time, still, thank you for supporting me and my works. quite emotional about the fact that this series had ended since it's my first ever one and to be able to receive so much love from it just makes me feel genuinely amazed. i'm really happy that you guys enjoy my writing and give me words of encouragement. i love reading all your messages/asks/comments. grateful that you're here, love you all. much love and kisses from me. thank you.
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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matty-bear · 2 months
Text
The Elevator Game Gone Wrong PT.2 [M.S]
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type: fic! 
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: VERY long, sfw, fluffy, alternate universe, paranormal activity, getting an attachment, seeing spirits, elevators
summary: As you and the triplets join Sam and Colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in Texas, the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game. Little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence. 
notes: part two is finally here ! hope you guys enjoy it ^^ I really did NOT expect the first part to get so much attention but tysm for all the love ! I appreciate all of you very much <33 also, yes thats how this fic is gonna end there will NOT be a part three ;3 anywho, happy reading ! 
WC: 8969
PT1
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Matt?” You call out, your voice echoing rather loudly inside the empty elevator. You feel tears prick your eyes as you crouch down and take the discarded camera and horse necklace up off the floor. You practically cradle them both to your chest and shut your eyes tightly, your mind starting to spin as you begin to spiral. 
This can’t be happening.
The stupid ritual actually worked and Matt is gone. 
He’s stuck, by himself, in another plane of existence and you have no idea how to help him escape it. 
You should’ve persuaded him to not go. You should’ve been a good girlfriend and held him back. (As mean and selfish as that sounds) 
I mean if you didn’t let him go in the elevator the second time, this wouldn’t have happened right? Hell, if you didn’t let him go in the elevator period none of this would’ve happened. 
Sam and Colby probably would’ve gone in the elevator together. They could handle it, right? Of course, they could! They fucking professional ghost hunters for crying out loud! 
Forget about them… Matt is gone. Your boyfriend is gone and the chance of seeing him again is slim to none. What the fuck are you gonna do? 
You feel your chest tighten as you feel a lump form in your throat. As tears begin to cascade down your cheeks at a slow pace, you find it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was because of the small space you were in or how your clothes were starting to become rather unbearable. 
Who are you kidding, Matt is fucking gone. 
You feel your chest tighten as you struggle to take air inside your lungs. The feeling made you panic more than you already were and you found yourself crawling back on your hands until your back hit the wall of the elevator. You hurriedly set the camera down next to you and begin to claw at your chest as you bring your knees up to your chest. 
As more choked sobs escape your lips, the muffled sound of footsteps approaches you. You see a tall figure in your peripheral vision but can’t distinguish who it is. Everything was so blurry and you couldn’t hear a thing except for your heartbeat that began beating loudly in your eardrums. 
You flinch rather harshly when you feel someone wrap their arms around you. You keep your head down as you allow the person to bring you against their chest. 
“y/n.” The person calls. They tap your shoulder a few times to get you to look up at them. At the sight of an all too familiar mop of red hair, you find yourself relaxing a little. “There you are! Look, I need you to listen to my voice okay? Can you hear me?” Nick asks, his voice nothing but soft as he looks down at your trembling frame. It takes a moment for you to register the male’s question but when it finally clicks, you slowly nod your head. 
“Okay, I need you to try your best and follow my breathing okay? Chris went to the car to grab some headphones and he’ll be back but as of right now, we need to try to ground ourselves okay? I’m right here. Just try to follow me.” 
You manage to focus your still slightly blurry vision on Nick’s mouth and wait for him to start going through a few simple deep breathing exercises before you attempt to follow. The moment you try to inhale, you immediately begin to cough your heart out. You shake your head with a small whimper and lean your head against the redhead’s bicep as you feel your heart tighten. 
“No, no, no. y/n, we need to try again. Come on, lift your head please.” Nick leans back a little to get you off him before he gently cups the side of your face, the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression as you begin hyperventilating breaking his heart. “Where the fuck is Chris? Does that mother fucker not know how to unlock a car and find a single pair of fucking headphones?” Nick looks behind him and locks eyes with Colby who’s looking down at the two of you worriedly. 
“He’s coming!” Sam exclaims, heavy exhales escaping his lips as he runs back to the three of you. 
“Fucking finally. God, my grandmother would be faster than his ass and she’s half fucking blind.” Colby smacks both of his hands over his face to muffle his laughter as Sam giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. Nick smiles softly and focuses his attention back on you as Chris runs up to the four of you. 
“Here. I could only find yours.” The younger pants out as he holds the redhead’s Apple headphones out in front of him. 
“That’s fine. What took you so fucking long?” Nick grumbles as he takes the headphones with his left hand and hurriedly digs in his pocket with the other. 
“I couldn’t find the car.” Nick quickly looks up and sends a glare to Chris who’s rubbing his nape and looking down at his shoes. 
“Of course you couldn’t.” After taking his phone out, the redhead quickly connects his headphones and opens up Spotify. “y/n look at me for a second. I need to put these on you.” You hesitantly comply and lift your head to allow the male to gently set his headphones on your head. After ensuring they’re comfortably over your ears, he quickly searches for a playlist that you and he often listen to and pushes play. The moment the soft beats of Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish fill your ears, you find yourself claiming down nearly instantly. 
You shut your eyes and allow yourself to get absorbed in the music as you lean against Nick again. You feel the latter wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, one of his hands softly hitting your back in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat begins to follow the beat made and you soon find yourself calming down. When you’re finally able to breathe properly, you let out a soft exhale and slowly open your eyes. 
“Thank you, Nick.” You mumble softly, a faint sniffle coming shortly after your comment. 
“Of course,” Nick replies with a small smile. The boys allow you to take a few minutes to get yourself together before you pull away from Nick’s embrace and pull the headphones off your head and set them around your neck. The redhead intently watches as you stand up to your feet, his eyes watching your every move as you heavily exhale and look down at Matt’s horse necklace in your hand. 
“We need to get him back. I don’t care what we have to do, I need him back.” You state as you lift your head and look at Sam and Colby who are a few steps away from you. 
“I don’t really know how to hit the rewind button on this ritual per se. I didn’t think it’d work so I didn’t bother looking up how to bring something back.” Sam says as he looks down and rubs his nape, his lips forming into a straight line as he stares at the floor. 
“Well if you guys don’t figure out a way to get Matt back, I will not hesitate to do this stupid ritual over and over again until it takes me to the same universe he’s in. I'm sorry if I sound like a total jackass but I literally can’t live without Matt. And neither can Chris and Nick. We all need him back” 
“Sam and I will scavenge the internet to try to find a way to fix this, promise. But as for right now, we need all of you guys to get out of the elevator.” Colby says, his voice soft as he mentions for you and Nick to step out. You exhale heavily and gently nod your head before you walk out of the elevator, Nick following close behind you. 
You immediately make your way over to Chris who’s sitting on a bench across from the elevator. You look over at the male after sitting next to him and gently tap his knee to snap him out of the faint daze he’s in. After a moment, the male finally looks over at you and a frown immediately takes over your features at the sight of the male’s tear-filled eyes. 
“Oh Chris…” You mumble. You quickly wrap an arm around the latter’s shoulder to pull him against your side. When you do, the male doesn’t hesitate to bury his face in your neck. 
“I want Matt back.” Chris mumbles, his voice breaking slightly as he bites back the tears threatening to spill from his glossy eyes. 
“I know. We all do.” As you begin to rub comforting circles on Chris’ back, Nick takes a seat on the other side of the male and joins your attempts of calming him down. 
“Hey, guys?” Colby calls, his voice echoing in the elevator and seeping out into the hall. 
“What’s up? You find something else?” Sam asks as he quickly makes his way over to the male. 
“Yes, actually. I found a note under the camera but I can’t decipher it for the life of me.” 
“What?” You quickly pick your head up and look over at Colby who’s stepping out of the elevator and looking intently at the camera in his hand. “Lemme see.” 
The ghost hunter makes his way over to you and takes a small sheet of yellow paper off the bottom of the camera. You watch as his eyes skim over it a few more times before he hands it to you. Colby was right. On the small yellow sheet was horrible handwriting that was in… 
Crayon? 
“It looks like a kid wrote it.” You say, your eyes squinting as you try your best to decipher the words written. 
“A kid?” Nick asks as he and Chris quickly turn around to look at you. Both boys lean closer to get a better look at the note in your hand, the same bewildered expressions appearing on their faces as they stare at the writing. 
“Yall don’t think that Samantha wrote it, right?” Chris asks as he rips his gaze away from the note to look up at Sam and Colby who are already looking down at the three of you. 
“I’m not sure... How could she send a note to us?” Sam asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his face deep in thought as he also stares down at the note in your hand. 
“Wait, is the onvoy still out?” You ask as you hand the note to Nick who has his hand out in front of him, gesturing you to give him the small piece of paper. 
“Yeah, it’s right here,” Colby replies as he walks over to the said device that has been discarded in the middle of the floor. “You wanna ask something?”
“Yes please.” Colby gently nods his head and sets the onvoy next to you on the bench. You force your lips together in a straight line, a sudden surge of fear filling your veins as you stare down at the device. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, you ask your question. 
“Samantha, are you the one that wrote the note that’s under the camera?” 
Silence fills the lobby the moment the question escapes your lips. You take a glance up at Colby before you turn your attention back to the onvoy, nervousness filling your body as you begin to hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears. 
Why isn’t it- 
Your thought gets cut off when you feel a quick jab on the side of your thigh. Your breath quickly hitches as you flinch and quickly turn around, fear glossing over your eyes as you move closer to Chris. The moment you go to open your mouth to say something, the sound of the onvoy dinging alters the five of you. You quickly turn your head around at the sound and lean in closer to the onvoy to read the glowing response. 
“It says yes.” You read, quickly leaning away from the device after you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. 
“Wait, how the hell did she get the note to us?” Colby asks as he picks up the device and switches it off. 
“I have no clue. And I kinda don’t wanna know so.” You reply, your voice trailing off as you hug your torso. 
“I know what this says,” Nick states as he holds the yellow note in between his fingers. At the male’s statement, you and the rest of the boys quickly look over at him. 
“What does it say?” Chris asks as he leans against the redhead’s shoulder, smiling slightly as he manages to make him fall back a little. 
“It says mirror room but it’s just horribly misspelled. I mean it makes sense since Samantha is a literal child but.” Nick replies, a faint grunt escaping his lips as he pushes Chris off him and sits upright. 
“Mirror room?” Sam repeats, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he takes a glance over at Colby. 
“Is she talking about the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine?” Chris asks, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks up at the two ghost hunters in front of him. The moment the question escapes Chris’ lips, a small giggle escapes you at the feeling of two pokes coming in contact with your side again. 
“Samantha, I am not built for this, please do this to Chris. He’s right here.” You beg as you quickly slam your arm firmly against your side. When you use your free hand to gently pat the younger triplet’s shoulder, the male’s face grows pale as his eyes widen in pure fear. 
“Why would you say that?” Chris asks through gritted teeth. “Samantha, she doesn’t mean it. Please keep messing with her, not me.”
“Wait, maybe Samantha is trying to communicate with us through y/n. You know, considering how she touched her immediately after Chris asked the question.” Colby says as he points a single finger towards you and he looks over at the blonde next to him. 
“Samantha, if you would like to communicate with us through y/n instead of the onvoy, could you poke her two times for us?” Sam asks, his question causing your jaw to drop to the floor. 
“Guys, this is fucked uP-!” You say, your speech getting cut off by you giggling at the feeling of two pokes being delivered on your side. Your giggles soon turn into a small whine as you cover your face with both your hands and lean against Chris’ arm. 
“Did she poke you once or twice?” Sam asks. 
“Twice.” You grumble in response. “This is so fucked up why me out of all of us?” 
Sam shrugs in response. “Not sure. But at least we know how to communicate with her better.” Colby nods his head at the blonde’s comment as he lands a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Now, Samantha, would you like us to go to the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine? Remember, one poke no, two pokes yes.” 
The moment the question is asked, you feel Chris jerk away from you, a stream of panicked giggles spewing from his lips as he reaches for Nick. 
“Thank you, Samantha.” You say aloud, a small smile visible on your lips as you look over at the two boys next to you. 
“Did she poke you, Chris?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping him as he watches the latter hurriedly rub his left side. 
“Yeah. Twice.” Chris replies, a frown forming on his lips as sends a quick glare in your direction. At the male’s intense look, you give him an innocent smile and quickly jab your hand into his side. A chuckle escapes you when Chris lets out a choked laugh and stumbles off the bench. “Bro, this isn’t funny!” The male exclaims as he lays on the floor and covers his face with his hands. 
“It’s a little funny,” Nick says with a smile as he bends down to reach the younger male on the floor. He lands a quick poke near Chris’ underarm and giggles when the male squeals and rolls away from him. “Dude, you squeal like a little girl.” 
“Nick, I will fucking rock your shit. Don’t play with me right now.” Chris says through gritted teeth as he sits up and leans against his arms. Nick raises his hands in defense and takes a seat closer to you as Sam walks up to the male on the floor. 
“Come on, I think we should head over to The Mezzanine,” Sam says as he holds his hand out in front of him. Chris looks up at the blonde for a moment, a small smile sneaking onto his lips as he grabs his hand and allows the male to help him to his feet. “y/n you wanna lead the way?” 
You slide your tongue over your teeth as you look over at Sam, your stomach churning out of anxiousness before you quickly avert your gaze from him to Nick. When you turn to the male, the redhead gives you an encouraging smile and gets up. The moment he holds his hand out for you, you smile widely and grab it as you follow suit in getting up. 
“Yeah. Let's head over there.” 
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
“Okay, someone go in first I don’t fuck with the dark.” You say. After a few minutes of searching the hotel, you and the boys managed to find the Maximilian room inside The Mezzanine. The moment you walked up to the doors and saw that the room was pitch black inside, you quickly backed away and walked behind Nick and grabbed both of his arms, basically making him your shield. 
“Hell no, I'm not going in first either!” Nick exclaims as he turns around and puts you back in front of him. 
“God, y'all are a bunch of pussys,” Chris mumbles as he walks past you and Nick to get to the door. After swiftly opening it, the male enters the large room and begins his short search for the light switch. Upon finding it, the boy turns all the lights on with a single flick of the finger. “Yall coming in or what?” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” You mumble, sending a look to Nick before you join Chris inside the room. As the rest of the boys trail behind you, you begin to wander deeper inside the room, your eyes staying glued onto the mirrors as you quickly observe them. 
“Okay, now why would Samantha bring us here? It’s just a room full of mirrors.” Nick asks, his eyes following your frame as you continue to walk around the room. 
“Maybe she left another note?” Colby suggests as he sets his backpack and camera down on the floor against the wall. 
“Let’s start looking around the-“ 
“Matt?” At your sudden exclamation, all the boys quickly whip their heads around in your direction. They silently watch as you run up to the mirror at the end of the room with wide eyes before they all run up after you.
“What happened?” Nick asks as he stops behind you and sets both his hands on your shoulders. 
“I saw Matt in the mirror.” You say, stumbling over your words slightly as you point to the mirror in front of you. “I managed to catch a glimpse of his hair before he walked to the left.” 
“Are you sure you saw him?” Colby asks, his voice holding a sense of uncertainty as he raises an eyebrow and looks up at the mirror in front of all of you. 
“I swear on my life it was Matt! I could recognize his ass from a mile away!” You slip away from the group to walk to the mirror to your left. The mirror that Matt walked towards. You stand in front of the said mirror and your hold on his horse necklace tightens as you desperately look around the glass. 
You needed to prove to the guys that you weren’t seeing things. They probably think you're going insane right now and you can’t have that. 
The moment you go to walk to the next mirror, you feel a small tug on your sleeve. You quickly jump away with wide eyes and cover the area where you got touched. 
“Samantha is that you?” You call out, your statement drawing the attention to the group of boys still standing in front of the other mirror. At the feeling of two small pokes on your knee, you heavily exhale and nod your head softly. “Can I see Matt in the mirrors?” Another two pokes. “See! She said yes!” 
“But how is that possible? You can’t see another person in a mirror unless they’re in front of it.” Sam says as he walks up to you, the rest of the boys following close behind him. 
“I have no idea how it’s possible but Samantha confirmed that I’m not going crazy.” You don't wait for the blonde to stop in front of you before you walk off to the next mirror. Sam stops in his tracks and looks back at Colby, a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he locks eyes with the male. The latter simply shrugs in response and pats the blonde’s shoulder before he, Nick, and Chris follow you. 
“Matt?” You call you again, your eyes desperately searching the mirrors in hopes of seeing your boyfriend again. You let out a frustrated huff when you reach the end of the wall. No Matt here. You quickly turn on your heels to begin your search on the other wall. The moment you walk up to the first mirror, your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on an all too familiar mop of chocolate brown hair. “MATT!”  
You run up to the mirror showcasing your boyfriend curled up in a tight ball against a wall with both of his arms covering his head. The closer you got to the mirror, the more you could faintly make out his rapid and labored breaths. 
“Matt?” You shout as you delicately set your fingertips on the glass. You watch with wide eyes as Matt quickly looks up and whips his head around, trying to find who called him. 
“Hello?” The male calls out, his voice sounding rather muffled as he hurriedly stands up. 
“Matt it’s me, y/n! Can you hear me?” 
“y/n?..”
At the sound of quickening footsteps approaching you, you quickly turn around to see all the boys coming up to you. The same shocked expression can be seen on all of their faces as they look up at the mirror. 
“It’s fucking Matt.” Chris breathes, tears welling up in his eyes as he grabs onto Nick’s bicep.
“How the hell…” Colby mumbles.
“Matt!” Nick shouts as he drags Chris up to where you are standing directly in front of the mirror. 
“Nick?” Matt calls, his voice wavering slightly as he clutches his clothed chest. 
“Matt, we’re all here. Me, Nick, Chris, Sam, and Colby. Can you see us?” You ask. You all watch as Matt rubs his eyes with his palms and looks around aimlessly. 
“No...” Matt replies sadly as a frown overtakes his lips. 
“Matt, do you see a mirror anywhere by any chance?” Sam asks as he and Colby walk closer to the mirror. 
“Umm…” Matt’s voice trails off as he begins to walk around. The moment he goes to walk outside of the mirror, you all yell at him. 
“NO, MATT!” You all exclaim in unison. The male jumps at y’all’s exclamation and quickly walks back to where he was. 
“Look in front of you,” Chris instructs, a small giggle escaping him as he watches his brother cross his arms over his chest with a frustrated exhale. Matt complies and looks straight ahead, his eyes widening slightly when his gaze lands on a small mirror with a black frame. 
“I see one!” Matt exclaims as he quickly runs up to it. As he does so, he nearly takes up the entire space of the mirror the five of you are looking in, his tall frame looking over you guys as he scans the mirror on his side. You and the boys immediately begin to back up to get a better view of the male, small chuckles escaping a few of you at the sight of Matt mimicking a mine as he sets his hands on the glass. 
“Can you see us in-“ You cut yourself off when Matt suddenly yelps and jumps to the side. 
“What the fuc-“ The male starts, cutting himself off when he looks to his side and sees something. 
“What happened?” You ask, worry washing over you as you see Matt take a few steps back, his eyes wide in fear. 
“Samantha’s next to me.” 
“WHAT?” Chris exclaims, his jaw-dropping as he quickly whips his head around to face Sam and Colby, the two sharing the same expression as him. 
“Wait, we can’t see her,” Nick says, his eyebrows furrowing together as he over at the space that Matt is looking down at. You watch intently as Matt reaches his hand next to him, your eyes widening when you see a yellow sheet of paper appear in his hand moments later. 
“That’s the same sheet that was under the camera,” Colby states, earning a small head nod from you and the other boys. 
“Thanks,” Matt says slowly. You see the male smile slightly before he looks down at the paper in his hand. “Awh, this is wonderful Samantha thank you.” 
“What’d she give you?” The moment the question slips out of Sam’s lips, Matt flips the paper over and holds it against the mirror, allowing the five of you to see it. You can’t help the large smile appearing on your lips when your eyes land on the shark drawn with a blue crayon on the yellow sheet of paper. 
“Awh, that’s so cute!” Chris gushes as he jumps a few times. 
“Do they like it?” You hear a small voice ask. Collective gasps emit from you and the boys the second you guys hear the voice. 
“Yes, they love it,” Matt confirms with a smile. A small, high-pitched giggle rings through your ears before Matt faces the mirror again. “Guys I'm fucking petrified here please bring me back.” 
“We’re not finding anything on how to get you back, Matt,” Colby says, a frown appearing on his lips. Matt covers his face with both his hands as a shaky exhale escapes him. You find yourself shaking your head slightly as you force your lips together and dig your hand in your pocket to take your phone out. The moment you unlock the device, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. 
“What are you doing?” Nick says softly, his minty breath fanning over the right side of your face as he peers down at your phone. 
“Trying to find a way on how to bring Matt back.” You reply, your thumbs quickly tapping the screen as you google the ritual Matt did in the elevator. Silence fills the room as you type away on your phone, your eyebrows knitting together as a determined and focused expression spreads across your face. 
“Home?” You quickly pick your head up the second Samantha’s voice fills your ears. You watch Matt remove his hands from his face, your expression falling into one of worry at the sight of your boyfriend’s glossy eyes, before he looks down at the space he was looking at previously. 
“What was that?” Matt asks softly, a small sniffle escaping him as he quickly wipes away the tear that escapes his eye. 
“You wanna go home?” You hear Samantha ask. 
“Yes, I really wanna go home,” Matt replies as he furiously nods his head. 
“You don’t belong here?” 
“No, I don’t. I belong somewhere else.” 
“Where?” 
“Just somewhere else.” 
“With y/n?” You feel your heart skip a beat the moment your name escapes the little girl’s lips. 
Matt’s eyes widen and his words get caught in his throat for a moment before he hurriedly replies. “Yes with y/n. With my two brothers and friends too.” 
“How did you get here if you don’t belong here?” 
“I decided to play a little game that I shouldn’t have played by myself.” 
“What game?” 
“Just a little game in the elevator.” 
“Oh! I know that one!” 
Matt’s face falls into one of worry the moment Samantha answers. “You do?..” Matt asks, his voice trailing off as he takes a glance over at the mirror next to him. 
“Yes! I like to play it with my friends! We get to go somewhere else if it works! It’s a lot of fun.” 
“Wait, do you know how to take me back to where I belong then?” 
“You belong in the place where me and my friends go?” 
“Yes! Yes, I do.” As you hear the small girl hum softly, you quickly turn around to look back at the boys behind you. 
“She knows about the elevator game.” You say, your voice soft and low as you try to not get Samantha to hear you. 
“Let’s hope she knows how to send Matt back,” Chris adds as he begins to nibble on his bottom lip. 
“I think so.” You hear Samantha say. You could tell she was rather unsure with her reply due to her voice going up a few octaves at the end of her sentence. 
“Could you try to send me back, please?” Matt asks as he looks down at the girl, a pleading expression clear on his face. 
“Yeah! Come with me!” Without allowing the male to get another word out, Samantha grabs Matt’s hand and pulls him away and out of the mirror. The second the male vanishes, your face drops and you quickly turn around to face the boys behind you. 
“We have to go back to the lobby. Now.” You state, giving all the males a stern look before you exit the Maximilian. 
“y/n, wait up!” Nick exclaims as he begins to run after you, the other three boys soon running after the both of you. 
Matt’s POV
The constant colors of blue and yellow have been blinding my vision the entire time I’ve gotten to this universe. This world is a replica of the regular world apart from the fact that the majority of this world is in those two colors. While wandering around this universe’s hotel, I did encounter a hallway that was a different color. However, I didn't think about walking down it considering how it was a deep red color. And if my representations of colors were correct, I know that you should always stray away from red since it’s often tied to danger. 
Honestly speaking, I didn’t expect this elevator ritual to work so when it did, I had a full-blown freakout. I mean, why would I not? I’m in a different universe and couldn’t contact anyone. Not to mention how the camera I was using to record myself and my horse necklace completely vanished into thin air the second I got ‘transferred’ over here. 
Adding to my list of things I didn’t expect, I didn’t expect to be able to see hundreds of spirits walking around. No one seemed to care about how I was there and kept going on their merry way, floating around the hotel grounds as I wandered around like a lost child in a grocery store. I almost gave up on my search trying to figure out where the hell I was and how to get out but when I heard y/n’s voice, I gained a little bit of hope. But the fact that I couldn’t see her and the rest of the guys frustrated me heavily. And they could somehow see me? I have no idea how that makes sense but I didn’t even bother asking because I was sure they wouldn’t have an answer. 
My first encounter with Samantha while I was talking with y/n was absolutely terrifying. The little girl that I saw in a painting was standing next to me and communicating with me. She had a bright yellow aura surrounding her, which was a great contrast to the other spirits who held a dull gray one. I’m assuming that she was the only one who had this aura because she’s a kid and still has that child-like innocence to her. But the moment she mentioned that she and her friends played the elevator game for fun, I could not believe my ears. 
I mean, she doesn’t know better and probably thinks it’s all fun and games but to me, it’s the complete opposite. That little game of hers got me here in the first place. Now, I'm not blaming her because she's a literal child and has no control over this but the elevator game being fun??? That’s just mind-boggling. 
“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, my eyes squinting as Samantha’s aura begins to blind me. 
“The elevator, silly!” The little girl replies, a small giggle emitting from her smiley lips as she continues to drag me down the blue and yellow hallways. A small sigh escapes my lips as I continue to let Samantha lead me to the first floor, thankfully with the use of the stairs, and to the lobby where the elevators were. “Get in!” With a small push of a button, the elevator doors open to reveal a purple-filled space with blotches of yellow coating the brims of the elevator walls. 
“Good to know there’s no red in here,” I mumble under my breath.
“What did you say?” Samantha quickly turns around on her heels, her dress momentarily twirling around her as she looks up at me with large doe eyes. 
“Nothing.” I give the girl a small smile before I enter the elevator. I immediately excuse myself to go to the corner as Samantha enters right after me. As she walked up to the panel of buttons, I could faintly hear her humming a soft tune, her body subconsciously swaying along to the tune. After pushing the button for the first floor, she turns back around and walks up to me. 
“Will you come back to visit me?” Samantha asks with a large toothy grin. I feel my heart ache as the small girl looks up at me. As I force my lips into a straight line, I begin to have a small mental battle about whether or not I should be honest with her. 
“I’m not sure, Sammy. I really wanna go back home.” I reply softly. 
“Can I come with you?” The moment Samantha asks me that question, I feel my heart drop. Panic immediately fills my body as I blink down at the girl in front of me. 
“No, I'm sorry. You need to stay here with your friends. They’ll miss you if you don’t come back.” 
As Samantha’s smile forms into a pout, the elevator dings faintly before the doors open. I watch as the small girl turns around and goes to push the next floor, her pout not faltering.
“y/n seems nice,” Samantha says softly as she makes her way back to me. 
“She is a wonderful girl. I’m very lucky to have her in my life.” I comment as my lips form into another large smile. 
“I think she’s scared of me.” My smile falls into a slight frown as I look down at Samantha. 
“What makes you think that?” 
“Every time I try to get her attention, she always looks so scared. She hasn’t looked as scared the last few times I poked her but I know she’s scared of me.” As Samantha picks her head up to look at me, I feel my heart shatter as I take in her large and glossy doe eyes. “Am I scary?”
“Oh no, not at all Sammy.” The moment I open my arms, Samantha runs closer to me and crashes into me. As I wrap my arms around her and gently pat her head, the small girl nuzzles her face into my stomach. 
“Are you sure?” Samantha asks, her voice cracking as tears begin to run down her small face. 
“I’m sure, sweetheart. You are not scary at all. In fact, you are quite adorable and so sweet.” I reassure the girl as I begin to run her back comfortingly. As Samantha sniffles softly, the faint ding of the elevator doors opening causes me to lift my head. I let out a small sigh before I bend down and lift the girl into my arms. As I make my way over to the panel of buttons, Samantha wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my shoulder. 
Carrying this small kid has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. She practically weighs nothing and my skin is tingling. 
Why am I tingling?.. 
“Hey, Sam?” I call, my index finger gently poking the said girl’s side. I smile softly when she squirms away with a high-pitched giggle. 
“Yes?” Samantha replies as she lifts her head off my shoulder to look over at me. 
“What floor do we go to next?” 
“Six!” 
“Alright, thank you.” Samantha hums softly in response and returns to her spot on my shoulder. After I push the bottom to the sixth floor, I walk back to the corner I was previously at. Comfortable silence fills the elevator as I continue to hold Samantha close against me, her soft breath tickling my neck as she begins to faintly hum the same tune from earlier. 
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
Your POV 
You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the elevator as Salt In The Wound by boygenius fills your ears. You can see Sam and Colby talking to one another in your peripheral vision, however you can’t make out their voices due to the headphones on your head. 
You had no idea how to wrap your head around what happened 15 minutes ago. You thought you lost Matt for good yet you were able to talk with him through a mirror. The whole thing sorta of reminded you of Bloody Mary but minus all the scary aspects. The fact that Matt was able to physically see and communicate with Samantha while he was in the other universe was pretty shocking to you. You hope that the girl will stay true to her word and help your boyfriend back in this world. 
God knows you desperately need him back. 
You get snapped out of your pacing and your daze by a small tap on your shoulder. You flinch rather harshly and rip the headphones off your head, your eyes mimicking those of a deer caught in headlights as you stare wide-eyed at the person who tapped you. 
“Fucking hell, Chris. You scared the shit out of me.” You say as you clutch your chest. 
“My bad.” Chris apologizes with a small smile. “Nick wants you to eat something.” At the male’s statement, you turn your head and immediately make eye contact with Nick who’s holding his hand out, an open pack of fruit snacks on the palm of his hand. At the sight of the snack, your mouth shapes into a small oval before you scurry over to the redhead and take a seat next to him. The moment the male hands you the pack, you shoot him a large toothy grin before you indulge in the snack. 
“I can’t be the only one who can’t believe what just happened,” Colby says as he rubs the side of his face with his hand. 
“No, I can’t either. That was fucking insane.” Nick agrees as he quickly points over to the male before he fishes another pack of fruit snacks from his pocket. 
“It reminded me of Bloody Mary a little bit. You know since they both deal with mirrors.” Sam chimes in as he nibbles on a single club cracker. 
“Me too!” You exclaim, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as you continue chewing on your gummies. 
“Do you guys really think that Samantha will help Matt? I mean, she is a little kid after all.” Nick asks as he stuffs a few fruit snacks in his mouth. 
“I don’t know but I hope she’s able to bring him back.” You reply as you sigh gently and continue chewing. 
“Hey guys?” Chris calls. You and the rest of the boys quickly look over at the male who’s looking at the elevator with slightly wide eyes. 
“What’s up?” Sam asks as he lifts himself off the wall he’s leaning against to walk over to the youngest triplet. 
“Was the elevator always on the fifth floor?” Your head quickly turns to look over at the number atop the elevator. And low and behold was the number five shining brightly above the golden doors. 
“Wait, why is it blue?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the bluish glow emitting around the number. “Wasn’t it always white?”
“Yeah, it was…” Colby replies, his voice trailing off as he takes a stand next to you. “That’s weird.” 
The moment you go to fix your gaze back to the half-empty pack of gummy snacks in your hand, the sound of Chris gasping rather loudly causes you to pick your head up again. 
“What’d I miss?” You ask quickly as you look over at the male. 
“The number is going down,” Chris replies as he points up to the number shining brightly atop of elevator doors. Your eyes widen the moment that statement escapes Chris’ lips and you quickly look over at the elevator again. 
“What the actual fuck…” You hear Nick mumble next to you. You feel your heart beat loudly in your ears as you watch the number above the elevator slowly go down. The moment the number one appears, your eyes quickly shift over to the elevator doors. You had no idea what was happening but you knew that the elevator arrived at the floor all of you were currently on. It could be that another person is taking the elevator and they’re coming to the lobby but why was it stuck on the fifth floor? 
You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a small ding coming from the elevator. Subconsciously, you reach over to Nick and grab his hand for mental support as you hear your heartbeat quicken in your ears. After a few moments, the elevator doors slowly begin to open. After it finally opens halfway and you don’t see anyone, your gaze falls back to the pack of fruit gummies in your hand. 
Stupid fucking haunted ele-
“MATT!” You hear Nick exclaim, his hold on your hand vanishing as he quickly gets up and runs to the elevator. You quickly pick your head up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name and see all the boys rushing inside the elevator. Your mind seems to lag for a minute as you sit there, frozen, until you finally get back to reality and join everyone in the elevator. You nudge your way through the small crowd of boys to get to the middle and the moment you see an all too familiar set of blue eyes look down at you, tears immediately begin to well in your eyes. 
“Matt.” You sob. You immediately crash into your boyfriend’s arms when he walks closer to you and opens his arms out. You bury your face into Matt’s chest and curl your fingers against his clothed back as a steady flow of tears runs down your cheeks. “You’re back.” 
“I'm back, I'm right here,” Matt whispers softly as he begins to land soft kisses on the top of your head. The male shuts his eyes tightly and takes in your comforting scent as he begins to tear up himself. 
“I thought I’d never see you again.” You remove yourself from Matt’s chest to look up at him. “Never do that shit again. I won’t let you.” 
“I won’t, I promise.” Matt brings a hand up to the left side of your cheek to cup your face, this thumb beginning to wipe away your tears as he locks eyes with you. A few beats of silence pass by before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts y’all’s small moment. 
“I apologize for interrupting but I’m feeling quite claustrophobic here,” Nick says as he gestures to the small space around him.  
“Yeah, and I think I’d like to leave this trauma-inducing elevator,” Matt adds with a smile, his statement earning faint laughs from all the boys. You watch as all the guys file out of the elevator and walk back into the lobby. Before you grab Matt’s hand to pull him out with you, you turn back to face the male with a small smile. The brunette shifts his gaze down towards you and smiles softly before you decide to grab his face and pull him down to capture his lips for a quick kiss. 
“Never thought I’d be able to kiss you again.” You say after you pull back, the same smile visible on your lips. 
“Hey! No sucking face in the elevator!” You both hear Chris exclaim. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the boy’s statement before you take Matt’s hand in yours and pull him out of the elevator. 
“I think it’s safe to call it a night,” Colby says, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he picks his backpack up off the floor. 
“I thought we still had the Estes Method to do,” Chris says, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches the two ghost hunters collect their equipment. 
“Well…” Sam starts as he detaches the light from one of the cameras. “We do but a lot has gone down and I think we should wrap things up here. Right, Matt?” 
“Most definitely. I saw and interacted with enough spirits today.” Matt confirms as he rapidly nods his head in agreement. 
“We can pick up another day if you guys want. I think we have plenty of footage for the video but we’ll release something at the end explaining what happened with Matt without giving away too much information.” Colby suggests as he swings his bag over his shoulder, one of his hands resting against the strap to hold it in place. 
“We can pick back up in two days,” Nick says, taking a glance over at Matt and Chris and waiting to gain small head nods of approval from them before he looks back at Sam and Colby. “We do have another week here.” 
“Well, let us know. You guys do not have to continue the investigation if y'all don’t want to. As Colby said, we should have enough footage for the video.” Sam reassures, a small smile appearing on his lips as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.  
“We will,” Matt says with a smile of his own. 
“Well, we’ll see you guys later. We still have that dinner reservation in three days so don’t forget!” Colby exclaims as he points a finger at all of you. 
“We won’t.” Chris chuckles. “Thanks for inviting us guys!” 
“Dude, of course.” You and the triplets begin to share quick hugs with Sam and Colby before the six of you begin to head towards the exit of the hotel. Upon arriving at the front doors, Matt holds the door open for you to allow you to be the first person to step outside. When you do, you take in your first breath of fresh air with a content smile. 
“God, how much I missed seeing the outside world.” You sigh as you turn around to face the rest of the boys. 
“Oh me too.” Colby agrees with a rapid head nod. 
“We’ll see y'all later! You guys make it back to your hotel safely.” Matt says as he walks up to you, his left hand instinctively going to reach out to grab yours 
“Yall too! Goodnight guys!” Sam shouts with a large smile as he and Colby wave goodbye to the four of you. You and the triplets bid farewell to the ghost hunters before walking through the parking lot in search of the van. 
“I never thought I’d be so happy to see a car in my entire life,” Matt mumbles as he takes his car keys out. As the male unlocks the car, you giggle softly and watch as Nick and Chris hop in the back. Matt looks over at you and lands a quick kiss on your forehead before he brings you to the passenger door. You slip inside the car with a small smile when the male opens it and gently shuts it when you get yourself situated in your seat. 
“God I'm fucking exhausted.” Nick breathes as leans against the car window, his eyes shutting in the process. 
“Ima knock out. I kid you not.” Chris adds as he pulls his seatbelt over his body. 
“Y'all better wake the hell up when we get to the hotel. I’m not carrying y'all up to the room.” Matt says as he slips in the driver's seat, a soft thud coming from the door after he shuts it. 
You manage to catch Nick making a talking gesture with his hand in your peripheral vision as you look over at Matt. You watch silently as the male puts his seatbelt on and pulls the gearshift down to drive. Before he begins to drive off, he looks over at you and sends you a large smile before capturing your lips for a quick kiss. 
“I’m never leaving your side again.” You say as you shift in your seat to lean your head against the cold window. 
“Same here. I’m never letting you out of my sight.” Matt smiles as he takes a glance at all his mirrors. After backing out of his parking spot, your boyfriend reaches over to grab your hand as he finally drives off. As the male gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you find yourself drifting off into a deep slumber. 
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
A week later… 
“Okay Matt, this is starting to scare me. Do I need to make you an appointment right now?” 
“No, I'm fine.” 
“Matt you’ve been on the floor for the past five minutes and you look like you’re fucking giving birth. You are clearly not fine.” 
“What’s happening?” You ask as you walk inside the warehouse, the door shutting close behind your heels as you forcefully pull it shut.
“Look at your boyfriend,” Nick says as he points down at the said male. You follow the redhead’s finger and worry washes over you when you see Matt curled up on the floor, his eyes screwed shut as a pained expression paints his face. You quickly set the McDonald's bags in your hands down on the nearby sofa before hurrying over to Matt. 
“Baby, this is the third time I’ve found you like this this week.” You say as you sit down near the brunette’s head. After Matt doesn’t say anything and simply rests his head in your lap, you let out a small sigh and begin to card your hand through the male’s hair. “Is it still your lower back?” 
Matt gently nods his head. “It really fucking hurts. It’s like a bunch of tiny needles pricking my skin. It feels so weird and tingly.” Matt mumbles, a sharp hiss escaping him shortly after he finishes his sentence. 
“Matt, again?” You hear Chris ask, his footsteps becoming louder as he walks into the room. You hear the male sigh before you take a glance up at him. 
“You guys are acting like I'm in control of this fucking happening. Cut me some slack, holy shit.” Matt grumbles as he digs his face into your thigh. 
“Have you texted Sam or Colby?” Chris asks, averting his question to you as he raises a single brow. 
“No… why would I?” You question back, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you send the male a look. 
“I have a gut feeling that they have an idea about what’s happening. Just saying.” Chris shrugs as he makes his way to the McDonald's bags on the sofa. You shake your head with a small chuckle when the male digs in one of the bags and takes out his food before he walks off. 
“Should I text one of them?” You ask as you look over at Nick who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 
“You can if you want. It’ll shut Chris up.” The redhead replies with a shrug. You gently nod your head and pull your phone out of your pocket. “Maybe text Colby. He responds a lot quicker than Sam.” You give Nick a thumbs-up before opening your chat with Colby. You twirl your thumbs around the keyboard for a moment trying to figure out what to say before you finally start typing. 
You: hey colby ? I have a question to ask you 
Colby: Ask away! 
You: so matt has been having these pains in his back and i was wondering if you had an idea as to why he’s been having them 
I know it’s random but chris had a hunch that you guys might know soo … 
Colby: His back…? 
You: yea
Colby: Like his lower? Upper? 
You: lower 
Colby: Oh shit
You: what … what’s wrong 
Colby: I think Matt got an attachment 
You: a WHAT ?!?
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homunculus-argument · 11 months
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The absolutely funniest thing about shepherd dogs is that the way to distinguish a well-trained professional herding dog from a random untrained one is that a well-trained shepherd doesn't start herding before being given permission, and stops when ordered to do so. An untrained herding dog is still going to herd. It's just not up to you what, when, and where.
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vaspider · 3 months
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Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate
My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.
Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.
There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.
I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.
It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.
Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.
It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.
When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.
Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.
The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.
It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.
There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.
You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.
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mysticfalls01 · 5 months
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Princesa II
(FC Barcelona x reader)
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Part 1
Alexia never thought about being a mother as her full focus was on her career however that changed the minute, she met you.
You brought out a side of her that she never imagined tapping out. You brought out her maternal instinct, you brought her joy and a new vision of life.
Not only did you brought out all of that to her, but you also brought out a new light for the team. The team was immediately impacted by your energy, your passion, and your ability to feel. As professional athletes they sometimes forgot that they also were humans, that it was alright to cry, to get frustrated and to be happy.
You were one of the greatest gifts that the team had ever received and they couldn’t wait to see you shine.
The first time your teammates heard you call Alexia mama you immediately became the target of jokes and teasing especially from Claudia and Patri however, they were met with Alexia’s glare as she told them that they were going to do two extra laps. The rest of your teammates immediately stopped as they didn't wanted to be the target of La Reina's rage.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Playing at the Johan was a feeling that you wouldn’t change for anything. The excitement, the fans that had your back and the support of your teammates always made it special.
You and your teammates were preparing for the match against Sevilla. Before leaving the locker room to lineup you heard Frido’s voice.
“Unge come here! You need to put your sunscreen on!”
“Fridoo I already applied on my sunscreen” you said whining.
“Really kid?” She said rising her eyebrow.
“No” you admitted with a defeating voice.
You gave up and walked towards Frido so she could apply her sunscreen on your face.
“Andd it’s done kid, you are free to go” Frido said.
“What do we say frilla?” You herd Alexia’s voice behind you.
“Thank you aunty Frido” you said and gave her a kiss on her cheek
“No problem kid” she answered with a smile.
After that you guys went to the tunnel for the game, you were nervous as it was the first time that you were in the starting 11. Before Alexia reached her spot at the beginning of the line, she quickly hugged you and whispered “Hija, I’m so proud of you. It’s time to show everyone why you are Barcelona’s princess”
“Thank you mama” was all you said before she had to leave.
“Amiga we have your back, so don’t worry and believe it you’ve earned your spot in the team” you heard Aitana say before everyone started walking out.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The game ended 8-0 with you scoring a hat trick in the first half of the game. You were subbed off around the 60th minute, as you were leaving the pitch to give the entrance to your teammate you heard for the first a chant that eventually would become iconic.
“Con la reina de nuestro lado la princesa brillará y nuestro reino blaugrana prevalecerá” (With the queen on our side the princess will shine and our Blaugrana kingdom will prevail)
You gave your teammate a high five so she could enter. You stayed by the line admiring the fans and the chant that they had created for you and Alexia. You always dreamed about having your chant and the culers made that dream come true.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
After joining Barcelona your skills flourished and everyone could notice it.
You were in the locker room playing with Jana and Bruna as the training session had just ended. While you were running around the locker room escaping from Bruna Ingrid’s voice called your attention “Princess! Your phone is ringing.”
After you heard her words, you ran and picked up your phone, you saw that the number calling started with London’s code. Usually, you wouldn’t answer numbers that you don’t have saved however, your instinct told you to answer the call.
“Hi?” you said with a shy voice.
“Hello is this y/n l/n’s number?” the other voice said, you could identify that voice had accent but couldn’t distinguish from where.
“Yes, it is, how can I help you?”
“Perfect! I’m Sarina Wiegman and I wanted to inform you that I want to call you up for the next international break.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. From the other side of the locker room Ale saw your face and she and Mapi approached you.
After processing what you just you answered “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise that I will give it my all.”
Sarina laughed at your enthusiasm and spoke “I’m sure that you will! On the next couple of days, you will receive all the information. Can’t wait to meet you y/n!”
After that the call ended and you felt Mapi giving you a hug, you guys separated, and Ale asked with a soft voice “What’s happening hija?”
You looked at her and said “I did it mama, I just spoke with Sarina Wiegman. I’ve been called up for the next international break! I’ve played with the under 19’s team but I didn’t expect to get the call up for the senior team!”
After hearing those words all your teammates that were in the locker room immediately ran to you and hugged you. It wasn’t until you heard AMC jokingly groaning that you separated.
“England is having a friendly against Switzerland. Ohh you’ll be a headache to play against kid”
“Prepare yourself Ana, la princesa is going to score against you” Leila said with a joking tone.
All you did was smile until you remembered something.
“Mama, I must call Ona to tell her about the call up! I’ll be back shortly” you said before leaving the room.
As you left the room all Ale could do was to stare at you with a proud face, she knew that this was only the beginning of your international journey.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Olga and Ale took you to the airport.
“Yes mama, I’ll make sure to call you every day!”
“And?”
“If something is bothering me, I’ll tell you.”
“Perfect hija! When you land send me a text and when you arrive to SGP too!”
“I will!”
As she saw you leave all she could think was that la princesa de Barcelona was about to have her international debut and the other countries won’t know what was about to hit them
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Part 3
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