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yoichichi · 3 years ago

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“Here, Here, Little Piggy”

-INSTALLMENT TWO-

MINORS DNI 18+

wc: 5.5k

this fic contains dark content

𓂅synopsis: you should really be more careful walking home alone, big bad wolves are known to prowl the area at night.

𓂅cw warnings -> fem bodied reader but no pronouns used, monster fucking - werewolf, fear play, stuckage, dub con, size kink, breeding, biting, chasing, animal death, description of gore, mentions of blood, one use of the nickname “puppy”

𓂅cast: Kōtarō Bokuto as Werwolf

a/n: wow so yes it is March, and yes I’m finally going to continue posting my kinktober pieces LMFAOOO - the ideas were too golden to abandon now that I’m back from my hiatus on this blog! I put way too much work into the prep to completely abandon it 😭 so anyways, just enjoy some smut for bo and lemme know if you guys are down for me to finish off my kinktober works! Ty all and love ya <3 and of course - this fic contains dark content so read at your own discretion

event masterlist

Staggered goodbyes echoed from the welcoming warmth of your friends home up into the brisk night air and were lost somewhere up in the heights of the towering trees surrounding the whole property. The slam and click of their heavy, wooden front door cut the boisterous sounds off abruptly and left you with an eery remnant of the friendly banter until there was only silence.

You’d hadn’t meant to stay so late studying with your classmate, Maya, and you wouldn’t have either if their mom wasn’t so adamant on making small talk with you.

Originally, the pair of you were supposed to meet up at the dining hall on campus and find a nook to work together there - but an unexpected sewage build up, in addition to a sewage spill in one of the nearby bathrooms in the building - put a pause on those plans. If the caution tape that was dramatically taped across all entrances wasn’t telling you your study date was canceled, the smell sure was. But your peer had a better idea.

“It’s only about a 45 minute walk out from here! And we really need to get this work done. I promise my ma won’t mind, she’s super chill and really likes meeting people I know actually.”

Christ, that’s nearly an hour.

If you weren’t so desperate to finish this project off, you would’ve said no and suggested just meeting early in the morning and seeing if it was open by then. But considering neither of your dorms were an option (thanks to inconsiderate roommates both of you had the displeasure of knowing), and the library was always too packed to properly focus, “ma’s house” it was.

Maya’s mom was actually super sweet like she said, even bringing you some snacks & water halfway through on a literal silver platter. You shouldn’t have been surprised by the theatrics of it all though, their house felt like a hidden away manor. For only being a 45 minute walk, it felt like a world away from your bustling college campus.

The stretch up to the home was cutoff from the rest of the city with a thickly wooded area, the majority of it spent on the dirt driveway up to the home. You weren’t sure how far the woods stretched, but you knew it had to be expansive enough for coyotes to feel welcome considering the stories Maya shared with you on the walk there.

“Oh my god, I actually really like it at night when sometimes you can hear them howling. It sounds super scary but really…” the excitement in Maya’s voice faded out as you slowly shifted your focus to the forest’s edge on your right.

You could only see about maybe 30 ft in until the trees became too dense to register what was beyond them, and that was in the dimming daylight. But the blue-greenish hue coming down from the sky didn’t help either, making the colors of the woods muddle together until it was a mess of fog and figures.

It was … off putting. Beautiful, but certainly not inviting. How many coyotes were waiting in there now, watching you two walk, and you not even being able to see them.

You must be psyching yourself out and making your brain imagine things, because at the exact moment you had that thought you swore you saw a flash of something move far back within the trees. The muscles in your legs tensed as a flash of nervous sweat rang out from your body.

Sudden laughter from ahead of you snapped you out of your nightmare-ish daydreams and back to your conversation with Maya, you didn’t realize how far she had gotten.

“Ah sorry, am I freaking you out? I’ll stop talking about it!” She had her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised, a little more than nervous that she was ruining the first time she got to actually hang out with you outside of class.

You shook your head and jogged to catch back up with her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a warm smile.

“No, no, you’re all good. I’m just not used to being in such a cool place like this. I mean, it’s definitely a little creepy, but it’s just because I’m used to the city more. Keep talking, I like your stories.”

The rest of the time there you spent it studying, and listening to more of her horror- er, interesting, stories, for a good majority of it. Which was all good and fine, until now.

You were left standing in the dark outside of her home, and the trees all around you felt bigger, taller somehow. Ma offered you a ride home but you stupidly denied, saying you wouldn’t want to give them any troubles. It took a lot of going back n forth before she caved, saying you better send Maya a text once you got home safe.

But now that you were out here on your own, you regretted your decision. However your pride got the best of you and you decided that it’d be more embarrassing to go back inside and say you’ve changed your mind after all the hassle you went through to walk back by yourself.

Why did you feel so obligated to put yourself in bad situations to make sure others wouldn’t be inconvenienced by you?

Shaking the thought and reminding yourself you weren’t in a bad situation, at least yet, you turned and began your trek home.

It wasn’t very late. Taking a peek at your phone before shoving it back into the pocket of your coat you read that it was only half past seven; yet it was dark and cold enough to convince you it could’ve been midnight.

You blew puffs out in front of your face and smiled at how noticeable the cloud of breath was, deciding you’d focus on that rather than peer into the pitch black around you. Thankfully, the moon tonight was bright enough to illuminate your path and even a bit of the forest floor on either side of you.

There was only a single streetlight placed alongside the trail a few feet from their home, and it didn’t do it’s job very well, a dim orange glow emitting from it only lit a small diameter around it. At least tonight the moon was picking up its slack, covering the rest of the trail for you as it peeked through the trees overhead.

It was almost comforting, how big the full moon was as you peered up at it. It felt like a friend escorting you on your walk back, staring down at you from its spot in the sky. The bright light changed the whole mood of the walk from dark & foreboding to serene & soothing.

But maybe you should focus on the uneven trail in front of you instead, because before you knew it you went tumbling forward onto the dirt as your shoe caught onto something in the ground, undoubtedly a tree root.

You yelped as you landed on your side, your backpack knocking some on the wind out of you, and your cheek sore from the scrape of the ground. If only it wasn’t so cold out, your hands would’ve been out of their pockets to catch your fall.

“Fuck.” You groaned and pulled out a warm hand to press to the side of your face, hissing at the sting from the contact.

Groaning, loudly, you sat up and onto the ground, it was so cold you could feel the damp chill through your jeans. Tiny specks of red started to appear on the blue denim against your knees, not at all surprising to you with the way they burned, before you sighed and pushed yourself back up onto your feet; you made sure to leave your hands out of your pockets this time.

Adjusting your bag, you took a few steps forward and did your best to ignore the dull ache from the friction of your jeans against your bloody knees.

So much for a serene walk home.

Reminding yourself to keep your eyes ahead of you, making note of any dips or bumps, you looked at your phone once more to check the time.

7:36

You sighed and did the mental math, determining you should be home no later than 8:30 (if you were taking your bum knees into account).

If you were lucky, your roommate might be already asleep. They tended to head in early most nights. It was nice considering that meant your interactions were kept to a bare minimum thanks to your late night study habits. Maybe you should slow down even a little more, just to be sure they-

Snap!

Your head twisted to turn in the direction of the sound. It came from across the dirt road, surprisingly wide, in the blackness of the trees on the other side. All coherent thoughts vanished from your mind, a mantra of run run run run clouding your head instead.

You swallowed thickly and tried to calm your breathing, and your heart beat, as you reminded yourself that you’re surrounded by woods. That twig snapping could be anything.

A fallen small branch, a deer, small rodents, the wind, other various non threatening forest life. It doesn’t have to be a coyote… did coyotes even approach humans?

No, surely they didn’t. You’re a human, the worlds like, “top predator” or whatever.

Reminding yourself that you’re the thing forest animals are scared of, as silly as it felt considering your were one more noise away from wetting yourself and breaking into a sprint, you continued forward - a little more aware of the sounds around you.

Maybe you should put in your headphones? No, it’d only make you paranoid considering you wouldn’t be able to hear if someone, or something, was coming up behind you.

Snap!

You didn’t look towards the noise right away this time, instead your kept your face forward.

The noise came from your left this time, maybe 20 feet deep into the woods. 20 feet too close.

Snap!

It was definitely closer this time.

Should you run? No. What if it wants a chase? Were bears all the way out here? No, definitely not… right? Cause if they were-

Snap!

Any apprehension you had to running was flung out the window as you sprinted forward, jumping over any bulges in the ground and ignoring the steady thump of pain into your lower back from your bag.

You made the decision to not look back, figuring if something was getting close you’d hear it anyways. But really, you just don’t think your heart could take glancing back to be met with a whole ass wild animal chasing you down.

Why the fuck didn’t you have any bear spray on you? Oh that’s right, cause you go to college in the city and you never thought-

Your self scolding was cut short at the rapid sounds of soft pads of feet approaching and branches snapping coming up from your left side.

Holy shit.

“Help! Please!” You don’t know who you were calling out to, considering you still had a ways to go until you were out of the thick woods, and you were definitely too far from Maya’s house to be heard.

You almost puked at the idea of your friend walking out of her moms home to find your mauled and mutilated body.

The running was getting closer, you were tempted to look to your left to try to catch a glimpse of what could be chasing you; But before you could, a second figure emerged from the tree line to your right and disappeared behind you - a harsh wince and yelp echoing in the darkness.

You turned in time to see two figures barrel into the darkness, the noises coming from them - snarling, snapping, growling, wincing, crunching - they all made your stomach turn and bile sit at the back of your throat.

Your steps faltered a little as you came to a small stop - was that a fucking man?

Was that a person that went tumbling with the other mysterious animal? You didn’t care enough to wonder any longer and turned back around to continue running forward, your chest heaving and nostrils burning from the cold night air.

Thump

You heard the sound before you processed what you saw in front of you. Something was flung and landed in your path just a few feet ahead of you. Steam seemed to be coming from the mound.

Warily, you took a couple steps closer until you came to an abrupt halt, it’s a coyote - or rather was. It’s been ripped open; tattered bits of fur are surrounding the open… wound, the moonlight reflecting off the puddle of blood filling up around the corpse effectively confirming it wouldn’t be jumping to life anytime soon.

A world of mixed feelings washed over you: fear, relief, nausea, confusion - but none of them compelled you to move forward, to run home. You were frozen, terrified at the sudden realization that whatever did this was left for you to meet. Was it the thing chasing you earlier, or was that the coyote? Did it - or maybe he - save you? No, it was probably fighting off it’s competition for it’s next meal - you.

The sound of breathing behind you brought you back to the present. You were left with no choice.

With shaky legs and a queasy stomach, you turned to look up at what could’ve ripped that animal apart in a matter of seconds, to be met with… a man? You can’t fully tell in the dark, but whatever it is sets your nerves on edge and your body rigid with terror.

The figure that was towering over you, easily about 7 ft tall, was almost human. Big, broad shoulders rested on top of a pair of thick biceps, and you followed them all the way down to big, no massive, hands. Seemingly normal, minus his height, but something was off.

There were.. claws? Nails wouldn’t describe the silhouette with justice, they definitely looked like claws. You didn’t fail to notice the suspicious liquid, thick and heavy, dripping from the tips of its claws and onto the ground with an audible drip, either. And there was maybe some.. no definitely some hair, although it looks more like light patches fur, across what you’d assume are his- it’s- forearms.

The torso was one of a regular man, an absolutely ripped one, but a man nonetheless. You stopped bringing your gaze down when you saw the light hit a deep, defined v-line and a patch of happy trail that seemed to keep going, afraid of what you’d see if you kept looking down. But when you brought your eyes up, you weren’t put at any ease.

You locked eyes with a pair of bright golden ones, bright enough you didn’t need the help of the moon to see them peeking through tufts of silver hair. The moon did however illuminate the glistening deep red covering the bottom half of his face.

A hand came up to wipe his mouth with the back of it until his face was mostly clean, before he offered you a… smile? You weren’t sure if it was meant to be a comforting smile, or a threatening display of baring his teeth - because that’s all you could focus on. A prominent pair of sharp, white incisors - as well as an even longer pair of canines - sitting behind his lips.

Nothing was said between either of you, just those bright eyes boring into yours for what felt like an eternity, before you decided it was now or never.

Slipping a strap of your backpack off of you as quickly as you could manage, you swung it off your other arm in the direction of that thing with as much force as you could muster before turning to sprint back down the path.

But you didn’t make it far, barely even half a step, a grip on the back of your coat stopping your feet from carrying you any farther.

“Where are you going?” A voice, slightly soft and sounding genuinely curious, comes from behind you.

….. Did he just talk to me?

You were yanked back against his chest with little to no effort from him, and hit a surprisingly softer surface than you were imagining (not that you were imagining what his chest felt like) and warmth - enough warmth for you to feel the heat emitting from him through your puffy jacket.

Your body shuddered at the feeling of him bending down to your height behind you, his warmth surrounding you know, and his hair tickling your cheeks. He nosed at your jaw and neck, his breath also tickling you slightly as he took shallow breaths in.

Was he smelling you?

You whimpered quietly in surprise, and a bit of fear, when your head was yanked back suddenly, your neck now more exposed for him to explore. His tongue slipped past his lips to leave an experimental lick across your pulse, the breeze catching the wet patch and sending more chills down your body.

“Let me go.” You sounded firmer, more sure than you thought you would. But he must’ve read through your feigned confidence, because his grip didn’t loosen one bit, and instead he asked you,

“Why?”

You blinked, surprised your throat wasn’t ripped out as a response instead. Regardless, what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? It’s not as if you were prepared for a conversation, but what does he mean why?

“Because… I said so. And I… I have class in the morning.” You kept your stare up and jutted your chin out, hoping to god you looked unfazed while your mind ran through all possible options of what the hell could be going on right now.

“If I let you go, do you really think you could run from me?” He almost sounded genuine, like he wondered himself if you’d be able to get away from him, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

You felt like you stopped breathing at his question, because you knew it was really more of a proposition. And his loosening grip only further proved your assumption.

“Go ahead, see how far you can get. I’ll even give you head start. Besides, I liked how you smelt when you were scared.” He made sure to bring his face closer to your neck as he spoke his last sentence before letting you go completely, smiling to himself as you stumbled forward. You didn’t even realize how close he had been holding you.

You jumped to your feet and turned to look at him one last time, a bright toothy smile on his face, before sprinting forward and around the tattered coyote with all your might.

It was almost embarrassing, how hard you were pushing yourself to run. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away from him, whatever he was? It didn’t matter how hard you tried to shake the negative thoughts out of your head - you felt hopeless and you’d barely even started. But the weight jostling in your coat pocket reminded you not all options were lost - your phone.

Pulling your phone out as you continued to run, you held it above your head in hopes of having some bars and - yes, you do! Just one, but one should be-

A tree root, another tree root.

You, and your phone, go flying forward for the second time tonight - but unfortunately not together.

It plays out like a scene out of a movie, you’re laying there on your chest with your hand reaching out as you watch your phone bounce and slide under a fallen log to the side of the dirt path. And when you stretch your head up to look, it’s nothing but overgrown wild berry bushes - bounds of thorns and thistles everywhere in your sight - and your phone was beneath it all.

Shuffling over as quickly as possible, you can barely see the glint of your phone screen in the darkness of the night, and it’s more than an arms length away.

That phone is your saving grace, you have no choice. You won’t be able to reach and crawl through the overgrown sticker bushes, but lucky enough there’s a small dip in the ground beneath the log - just enough for a person to slip through if they really had to.

Slipping your coat off, needing to have as much space as possible to get between the log and the ground, you tossed it across the path to the other side of trees. Maybe he’ll smell your scent and go the other way?

Don’t worry about it, just hurry the fuck up!

You drop to the ground swiftly, hoping and praying to yourself that the sounds of the small twigs snapping beneath your knees weren’t loud enough to call for that man- no, that things attention. Laying onto your stomach, you attempt to scramble underneath the fallen log to reach your phone, but it was a tighter squeeze than you had anticipated. You sucked in a deep breath and held back your winces as you did your best to ignore the pine needles scraping and stabbing into your skin, and stretched your arm until the tendons and muscles began to burn until you realized this was a fruitless venture. And now you’ve just wasted precious time.

Hoping this went unseen and that the damp forest floor beneath your body muffled all noises of your shimmying, you pushed back on your palms to make a hasty escape - but you didn’t budge.

Surely you were starting to get splinters from how hard you started to push your palms into the ground, but you weren’t moving. You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm, but it’s been too long. He’s definitely catching up by now. It’s not like you made it far either.

Pushing one more time, you moved just a tad, but the searing pain that ran across your lower back from the harsh bark of the log scratching you suddenly made you holler - which you definitely shouldn’t have done.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice chuckled from behind you.

It didn’t take but 5 seconds for tears start to spill from your eyes and down your face, surprisingly the first time you’ve cried so far tonight.

You ball your fists up when you hear him stepping closer to you until he’s standing right next to your legs, he has to be judging by how warm you’re already getting.

A warm hand comes out to lift the bottom of your shirt up, your scratch stinging more as the cold wind whips across it.

“Oh, you should’ve been-“

“Please don’t kill me! Please just let me go - I won’t tell anyone what the hell happened! Or - or what I saw! Th-thank you for saving me from, the um-“

He was surprised, and confused, as you started to ramble, in front of him. It’s not like he was listening all the way anyways, he was far too focused on how compromising your position was.

“Just please don’t kill me, please…” You sniffled and let your forehead rest against the dirt, chest constricting at the thought of how helpless you are like this. You couldn’t even fight back if you wanted to.

“What makes you think I’m gonna kill you? You think that’s what I’ve been planning on doing to you?” A pair of strong hands pull your ass up by your hips slightly, and run along your inner thighs soothingly as they press them apart.

Your eyes go wide at the realization of what he’s implying, yet your stomach flips at the idea, too. You’re silent as you feel him maneuver around behind you…

It’s a much better option than dying, right?

“No- I- just, just let me go!” You do your best to squirm and tell him you don’t want his cock buried deep in you, but your body wants other things.

And you hate the way the thought doesn’t actually despise you immediately, instead a dull throb from your cunt responds to his desires, and he knows it, too. You gasp when he suddenly has his face buried between your thighs and against your jeans, inhaling your scent deeply.

“Oh, you smell better like this.”

It’s not fair - it’s not your fault that he’s not… ugly. And you can’t deny that the thought of how big he is, especially compared to you, doesn’t turn you on at least a little. It’s easier to make yourself think you want this - that’s what you’re telling yourself, that it’s probably just easier to… convince yourself the idea isn’t completely off putting.

I mean, he’s probably huge, so you’ll need to be properly prepared and soaked to take him anyways. You can be sure of that judging by his height alone, and just the sheer body mass of him. Not to mention how thick and broad he was when you first laid your eyes on him…

“Whadya thinkin about, baby? You’re really working yourself up, I’m not even touching you.” He laughs softly and your body goes hot at his words.

You get even more pissed at yourself at the way your body continuously reacts to him, but you aren’t given any more time to yell at yourself when your jeans are quite literally ripped off your lower half.

God, you’re so small and helpless beneath him, and he knows you love it just as much as he does - he can tell you do. He can smell how exciting this is for you, as if the way you’re practically dripping wasn’t telling enough.

He knew he wanted you the moment he saw you walking with your little friend earlier, knew he needed you. Not only that, knew he needed to breed you, make you his. He sat and waited, followed you on your way back and thought about how he should do it. He didn’t want to scare you - well, he thought he didn’t. But then that other animal started to stalk you, and your fear wafted off you in such potent waves, and you smelled so good, he couldn’t stop his dick from twitching as he watched you run.

But you were his to fuck, to play with, maybe even to keep; so he’d be damned if you got hurt.

The thought alone makes anger rise in his chest, but the sight of your damp panties brings him back down to earth and remind him of the goal at hand - to fuck you till all you can think about his how bad you need him to fill you up.

Bokuto growls behind you before dipping his head down to lick against the wet patch on your underwear. He groans at the faint taste of you and sits up to discard you of them completely, surprisingly slowly, and whines when he sees the strings of arousal connect and break from your needy cunt to your long and forgotten underwear.

He grabs onto your thighs with enough force for the tips of his claws to just slightly break the skin, but any discomfort is disregarded when he buries his face in your heat and messily shoves his tongue between your lips.

His tongue is hot and wet, and his eager movements to scoop up as much of you as he can taste makes your toes curl and your eyes clench shut in surprise.

Fuck, this feels really good.

He pulls back and pants, spitting down onto your ass and watches his saliva drip down onto your clenching hole.

“Fuck, already so needy for me to fill you up, huh?” His voice is raspy, and you no longer care how odd or humiliating this all is, how weak you are - you want him so bad.

But all you can do is whimper in response when he bites down onto the fatty part of your ass, surely leaving a mark, before going back to licking long, languid stripes against your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him move to start sucking on your clit with a need you’ve never felt any man please you with before.

Your thighs want to squeeze together but they can’t with the unmatchable strength he has, keeping you open and spread for him to do as he pleases to you. His constant sucking and licking on your clit suddenly becomes too much as you feel your orgasm coming close, your stomach clenching and thighs shaking.

“Ahh! Fuck!”

You scream when it hits, he’s relentless and doesn’t stop once throughout until your squirming bad enough to catch his attention, who’s unapologetically pussy drunk. He only stops and pulls away, giving you a break, cause he needs more.

He wants to taste you more, give you more, but he can’t with you stuck like this.

He sits up and wrenches the log off your body, a sigh of momentary bliss leaving your lips, before he pulls you out from where you were by your waist with his other arm.

Your vision isn’t clear from this perspective, you think you’re dangling upside down, slung over his shoulder, but before you know it he has you flipped back around and standing on your own two feet in front of him - and fuck were you right, he is big.

Bringing your gaze up, now eye level with his chest, you crane your head up to look at his face with wide eyes.

“C’mere.” You’re lifted up by the back of your thighs until your calves dangle at the sides of his waist with his arms resting under the bend of your leg, warm hands gripping your sides.

Instinctively, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing chest to chest, irrationally scared that he (yes, the same man who previously tossed a log off your body like it was a twig) might drop you.

But all focus is lost on that thought when you feel the fat head of his cock - the girth of which you don’t even want to imagine right now - slide between your sticky lips, nudging against your swollen clit.

A whimper falls from his lips as he starts to poke and prod against your entrance, his head slowly pushing in and you can already feel the stretch of him. A small dose of fear mixed with an overwhelming amount of anticipation runs through your body. You can’t tell whether it’s your own lust clouded mind or some power he might have over you - but you need him now, greater than your apprehension for his size.

“Need you, need you now. Gotta fill my puppy up.” He huffs down at you and you can’t help but flutter a little around the tiny bit of him that’s made it’s way into you at the use of the nickname.

You nod against his chest and wiggle in his grasp, hoping he gets the idea that right now, that’s all you want, too.

He does his best to slowly sink you down onto him, but fuck the feeling is unbearable - you’re so warm and soft around his cock, and he can’t help but think about how it’s the perfect pussy for him to breed.

Biting down onto your shoulder, he sits you onto the rest of his cock, your cunt squelching and dripping onto his thighs and heavy balls. You yelp a little from the pain of it all; his sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder far enough to leave a scar, with the vague feeling of a small trickle of something warm dripping down your back, and the burn from the way you’re stretching around him. But the first time he lifts you off to slam back into you, all you can think about is how bad you need to come around his cock.

Your head leans back and your jaw goes slack, his pelvis - dawning a furry patch of pussy soaked coarse hair - rubbing against your clit with each roll of his hips. It’s like he’s hitting every spot inside of you at the same time, too, repeatedly brushing against the one that has you drooling and whining: “please, please, please!”

He leans his head down to speak into your ear, panting heavily with each smack of skin, “Yeah? Wanna make you feel good before I fill this dirty pussy up.“

Giving an unexpected tender kiss to your neck, he growls before picking up his pace - thrusting in and out of you hard enough to have your head rocking back and forth.

Fuck, you were so close.

Reaching a shaky hand down, trusting his strength to keep you up, you rub weak but rapid circles onto your clit. Thankfully, not much more effort needed to be exerted from you for you to reach your climax.

Bokuto presses kisses into your mouth, open in a silent scream, as you squeeze around his cock and twitch in his arms.

Leaving a gentle kick across your lips, he groans and whines before his thrusts still - your own orgasm enough to nearly make him pass out from the sensation - as he shoots his hot seed into you. He has so much, the inside of you not nearly enough for it all, as it spurts out onto the sides of his thick cock.

You’re not sure how long he held you in his arms like this, swearing you were going in and out of consciousness by the end, but eventually you feel him pull himself out of you that leaves you with an emptiness you couldn’t begin to describe.

But rather than being set down, you’re still held in his arms. The warmth from him is overwhelmingly soothing now, lulling you to sleep as your exhaustion starts to take over you. There’s only vague murmurs of something sounding like “keeping you safe”, or “keeping you home”; but right now that’s the last thing you care to think about as his hands rub up and down your back.

That’s something for tomorrow you to worry about, just like tomorrow you will worry about where your backpack with all that hard work went. However, you have a feeling deep in your gut that your missing bag will be the last of your worries in the morning.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @touyaz

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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago

Text

Unattainable (Eddie X Girl at School)

So this is the first time I'm sharing any kind of writing with anyone. Be gentle! I've been dealing with some internal nonsense and have been extremely pulled towards Eddie <3 I thought I could try my hand at some fan fiction and I am absolutely down for this to go down the smut road. Lol.

No real warning here. Just some information about the girl who meets Eddie. I did pull from the scene above so some of the dialogue is the same.

Word Count: 1,150

I never thought happiness was something for me. Not that I didn’t want it. It was something I desperately craved yet always seemed just so out of reach. My parents divorced when I was a kid and my mom never recovered. She spent most mornings in bed nursing a hangover and most nights so drunk she forgot where home even was let alone that her ex-husband’s daughter was in it. My dad moved across the country and called “when he could.” Could being after his new stepdaughter’s basketball game or when he got home from taking his new pregnant wife out to dinner.

I learned how to take care of myself pretty quickly. I made all my meals making sure to leave some left over for mom should she decide she wanted to ingest something that wasn’t an alcoholic liquid. I biked to and from school every day and buckled on all my studies. I knew early on that a scholarship was the only way I was every going to make it into college and get out of this hell hole. I was a straight A student and joined a couple of after school activities including theater. I loved theater. I loved embodying a personality and a life that wasn’t mine. I loved that for a couple of hours the spotlight was on me and people were actually listening to what I was saying.

When it came to dating, I wasn’t really interested. That’s a lie. I was extremely interested but not in any of the guys here. Many of the boys here in Hawkins were either the one and done type. I didn’t have any time for that. Plus, what’s the point, right? They’re all going to leave me anyway. I swore I would never become my mom. I was going to work hard, graduate, and get the hell out of here to become a famous actress. I refused to allow someone to come into my world and shatter that plan when they were just looking out for themselves.

I know. I know how I’m coming off but, look, you try being me for a few years! It’s lonely and it hurts! You have to harden yourself up to make it through all that. You have to—

“TO THE DEATH! TO THE DEATH! TO THE DEATH!”

What the hell? Everyone should be gone by now. I stayed behind in the auditorium after all the theater kids left to prepare for an audition that was coming up in a couple of days. I thought everyone else would be at the game tonight. I peak through curtain and notice just below the stage a group of people sitting around one of the tables we use in class to go over material. They are wearing those Hellfire shirts I’ve seen a couple of kids wear around campus. HellFire Club.

Now I’m not one to judge. I know some of the other kids (especially the jocks) make fun of them and the game that they play but I think it’s kind of cool. I have no idea what is going on but I love the enthusiasm. The throne that was used for our production of “Hamlet” is at the edge of the table, back facing me. Suddenly, a big floof of hair jumps excitedly. I can see his knees on both sides of the chair. He must be on his feet, leaning over the table.

“Time out! Time out!” someone yells as the group gets up to huddle in the corner. I can hear them from where I am debating whether or not to flee.

“HEY! If I may interject, gentlemen. Lady Applejack…” the person in the throne leans his body to right settling his foot to the floor. Eddie? Eddie Munson? I knew of him. Everyone in Hawkins did. Usually they referred to him as “The Freak” who’s dad was in prison. We had never crossed paths before today. Honestly, there was no reason to. I don’t do drugs, I have no idea how to play Dungeons and Dragons, and I usually spent lunch in the library.

“Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today.”

Wow. What a nerd. I giggled to myself. He says it with so much confidence and adorable vigor you can’t help but be entranced. You can tell he loves what he does and has a real passion for it. Cheers erupt from the other players.

“Direct hit!”

Eddie fake whimpers in shock, “What?!” He claps his hands and lets out a laugh, “That’s why we play!” I can’t stop starring at him with a smile. I’ve never seen anyone like him before. He was so energetic and lively. He captured the attention of a room with just his words and he didn’t have to act like someone else. He seemed so genuine…so…happy.

I looked down at the floor ashamed. A reminder of something so unattainable for me. At least not while I’m stuck here. I turned and walked back to where my bag was packing everything neatly inside. As I turned to head for the exit, I smacked face first into something, falling backwards.

“Whoa! Oh my god, sweetheart. Are you ok? I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

“Well, I’m going to be feeling that tomorrow. Ouch.”

“Here, let me help you up.” I felt strong hands grab my elbows and lightly pull me to my feet. “I’m seriously sorry. I was just coming back here to shut things down so the theater teacher doesn’t pitch a fit and not let us play in here.”

“No. No it’s totally fine.” I was still trying to adjust my clothes. “Usually, I’m not in here at this time but…I…” I looked up from slinging my bag over my shoulder and was met with Eddie’s big, beautiful brown eyes. It was like they pulled the words from brain. I can’t explain it but something about those eyes made me feel safe. Comfortable. I hadn’t felt that way since before my dad left. Eddie lips pulled into a tiny smile.

I was suddenly aware that his hands were still on my arms. He must have noticed to because he immediately pulled back and put his arms behind his back.

“I…thank you for helping me up. I…um…I have to go.”, I stammered and quickly power walked in the direction towards the door.

“Hey! Wait! You forgot your—”, the door to the auditorium slammed shut and I was suddenly caught in swarm of kids leaving the gym. I bobbed and weaved to the bike rack, quickly unlocking my bike, and peddling as fast as I could away from the school. Away from that foreign feeling I didn’t trust. I may be crazy but I could swear I felt eyes on me, watching me as I disappeared over the hill towards home.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie fanfic #fan fiction #joe quinn #eddie munson fluff

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captainsophiestark · 3 years ago

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A New Lab

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

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Requested on Wattpad!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Request: Reader is Tony Stark’s daughter, dating Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Y/N is Tony Stark's daughter, and has been dating Elijah Mikaelson for a little over a year and a half. She's been home visiting her family for a few weeks, and even though she loves spending time with them, she seriously missed her boyfriend. Unfortunately for her, she's got a big project due for her mechanics class, and the only place that's got a lab where she can work on it is her college, meaning even more time away from Elijah. Elijah, thankfully, is a smart, determined man, and decides he's going to do something to fix that.

Word Count: 2,153

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

BEEP BEE-

My hand shot out and slammed into my phone, quickly silencing the alarm. I glanced over at my boyfriend, Elijah Mikaelson, but by some miracle he was still asleep next to me.

I sighed, then set down my phone and carefully slid out of bed. I tiptoed to the closet, and still, Elijah stayed asleep.

Thank goodness. Sometimes that vampire hearing made it impossible to be considerate if I wanted to wake up any earlier than my boyfriend.

I'd been gone for two weeks, visiting my family in New York, and I'd gotten home late yesterday afternoon. Elijah and I had spent the entire evening together, talking and laughing about all the new insanity I'd witnessed from my family (which was in no short supply, since I was a Stark), and then we'd had a nice, romantic night together after being apart for so long. Now, though, I had to get going. I had a big lab project due in just under a week for one of my engineering classes, and I hadn't even started it.

I managed to get dressed and get out of the room without waking Elijah, by some miracle. I got downstairs and decided to make a quick breakfast before going to my university to get some work done. I opened the fridge to pull out a few eggs, and when I shut it, Elijah was standing there staring at me.

"Shit!" I yelled, jumping and dropping the eggs in my hand. Elijah, with the help of his superspeed, caught them and handed them to me with a smile. "A year and a half we've been dating and I'm still not used to that."

"It must be your genetic superhero reflexes keeping you on edge," he said. I just scoffed and shook my head.

"Uh huh, I'm sure that's it."

I caught Elijah smiling out of the corner of my eye as I started cooking over the stove. He crossed the kitchen to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Why are you up so early, my love?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're trying to sneak out after spending the night together?"

I laughed. "If I'd wanted to do that, I would've done it sometime before the one year mark."

"Fair enough. Still, I thought you'd want to have a nice, restful morning in bed after all the excitement back home."

"I do, Eli. So bad. But I still have to do my mechanics project. I wanted to do it while I was home, but I got caught up with family and Stark Industries stuff."

"I can imagine that could be quite a distraction. Still, why don't you work on your project here?"

"I need a lab," I said, shaking my head ruefully. "I just don't have the space or facilities here to do what I need to do. My college does, although it's not quite as good as what I've got back home."

Elijah took step back as I finished cooking and put my eggs on a plate. He looked thoughtful as I sat down at the kitchen countertop, and I stared at him as I took my first few bites. Then, when he didn't say anything, I spoke up instead.

"You could always come with me, if you wanted to," I said. "I could sign you in and we could just hang out in the lab while I worked. I'll even mix in some of the music you like with my usual workshop playlist."

Elijah smiled and huffed a laugh, then looked up at me.

"I appreciate the invitation, but I have some work of my own I need to take care of here."

"Fair enough," I said, standing and moving to stick my dishes in the dishwasher. "Lord knows being a Mikaelson alone is enough to keep you busy for an eternity."

"That it is," he said. I paused and gave him a kiss, then headed for the door, but he called out and stopped me. "Y/N? Any idea when you'll be home?"

I grimaced. "Late. Dinner at the earliest, around two-thirty am after the lab closes at the latest."

"Alright. Just let me know when you're leaving the lab, and tell me if you want me to walk you back here."

"I will. Thanks, 'Lij."

"Anytime, darling."

I blew him a kiss, then turned on my heel and headed out the door. I had a long day ahead of me.

****************

Elijah's POV

I put my hands on my hips as I surveyed the room in front of me. It sat unused on the first floor of the compound, just below Y/N and I's bedroom. It was as isolated a room as I could find in this building, which made it the perfect choice to convert into a lab for Y/N.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing to it but to get started," I muttered to myself.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning out everything that had been sitting in the room gathering dust. Some of it went in the trash, some into other rooms in the compound. I managed to finish cleaning it out before Y/N got home that night, thanks to the perks that came with being an Original Vampire.

Turning it into a high-tech lab, however, was going to be much more difficult. Securing whatever equipment might be necessary would be one thing, but knowing exactly what equipment Y/N needed presented a whole other problem.

I decided to go with Y/N to her lab the next day. I made a point of asking questions about what all the different equipment was, and how it differed from what her father had in New York. Then, when she wasn't looking, I took detailed notes that I hoped would be enough.

After Y/N left to work on her project for the third day in a row, I started getting pieces of machinery delivered to the compound. I compelled the delivery people to bring it in without questions (or remembering what they were delivering, where, and to who), and I was in the middle of directing them where to place it when my brother walked in.

"Elijah, what the bloody hell are you doing?" demanded Niklaus. I finished directing the delivery, then turned to him.

"I'm putting this empty room to use," I said simply.

"To use as what?"

"A lab for Y/N."

"A lab for Y/N?"

"Yes." I turned to face my brother fully as the delivery people walked out the door to get the next piece of equipment. "Do you have a problem with that, Niklaus?"

"I suppose not, since nothing was in this room anyway. And I quite like Y/N, as well." A smirk was slowly spreading across my brother's face, and I knew he wasn't about to end the conversation there. "She's got you wrapped around her finger brother."

I just rolled my eyes as Niklaus laughed. I let it go on for a moment as I headed for the door to continue the unloading of lab equipment, but paused at the threshold and turned back to my brother.

"I would look carefully in the mirror before making any jokes, Niklaus. I remembering being in Mystic Falls not too long ago and seeing you almost completely lose your mind over a certain blonde, newborn vampire from a small town in Virginia."

Niklaus scowled, but I ignored him as I continued to walk outside. The mention of Caroline Forbes never failed to shut him up.

Now, I could go back to focusing on getting things in order for Y/N.

****************

Y/N's POV

I came home from another long day of working at my lab. My project was due in two days, and I was finally getting close to finishing it. Still, I was completely exhausted, and as soon as I turned my project in I was planning to come straight back here and go to sleep.

I wandered into the kitchen in a daze, only to find my boyfriend already there, a smile on his face and a nice dinner waiting for me on the table.

"Welcome home, Y/N," he said, giving me a soft smile.

"Elijah... oh my God, I love you. You're amazing."

I crossed the kitchen to give him a kiss, then sat down to dig into the amazing dinner in front of me. Elijah joined me, and even though I was exhausted, I could tell he was a little more excited than usual. That, coupled with the fanciness of the surprise dinner, was enough for me to put together that he had something up his sleeve.

"Alright Eli, I've been buried in my lab lately, but I'm not completely blind. What's all this about? What are you planning, or what did you do?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," he said, not even bothering to try to hide a smile on his face.

"Uh huh, sure. And I'm not a Stark. Come on, babe, tell me what's up."

"Finish dinner. Then I'll show you."

I wanted to argue, but the food was too good, and I was too tired. I quickly ate the rest of my meal, glancing up at Elijah's smile every few seconds, and it never dropped from his face. Finally, I finished.

"Alright, that's it. And it was amazing, by the way. Now, what's this thing you've got to show me?"

He stood, then held out his hand for me to take. "Right this way."

I, of course, took his hand, then he led me out of the kitchen and towards the back corner of the compound. As far as I knew, absolutely no one ever came back here except to leave the compound from a back exit, so I had no idea where Elijah was leading me.

Finally, he came to a stop outside a set of double doors. There didn't seem to be anything special about them from the outside, and I didn't see any of his siblings hanging around. I gave him a questioning look, but he just gestured towards the doors.

"After you."

I took a deep breath, then pushed open the doors. I got half a step inside before I froze on the spot, taking in the sights around me.

It was a fully-stocked, state of the art lab. Not as high-tech as what my dad had at home, but far and away better than my university's lab.

My hands flew to my mouth, and I started to tear up. I did another scan of the room, trying to convince myself that it was actually real, then turned back to my boyfriend. He had a massive smile on his face as he took in my reaction.

"Elijah..." I breathed. I wanted to keep going, but I was honestly at a loss for words.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it? I absolutely love it! Elijah, this is amazing! Thank you, so much!"

Without waiting another second, I rushed across the room to wrap him in a monster hug. He hugged right back, burying his face in my neck and breathing me in. After a few seconds, I pulled back just a hint, then kissed Elijah as hard as I possibly could.

He wrapped one arm even tighter around my waist, then tangled the other in my hair. I ran my hands along his back, and Elijah deepened the kiss. After a few heated moments, however, I pulled back. Elijah gave me a curious look, and I couldn't help grinning at him.

"Not to make you regret this amazing thing you did for me, but I literally can't wait another second before I start breaking in this lab," I said. Elijah laughed, slowly letting his hands drop from around me.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't expect you to last this long before getting instantly to work."

"You know me too well," I said, shooting him a grin over my shoulder as I ran my hands over all the new machinery. Elijah just smiled back as he watched me go, and my heart soared.

I'd somehow been lucky enough to find the best man in the world, and not only that, but I got to have him as my boyfriend.

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legoshi-plz · 2 years ago

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Notice Me Part III

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader (eventually), Best! Friend! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: College AU. Reader feels like she’s constantly overlooked/ ignored and she’s made her peace with that.

Waning: See Chapter One.

A/N: I think this story is turning into a slice of life fic which I’m oddly okay with even though I’ve never written for that genre before. It’ll be a new and interesting experience for sure!

///////

Your last class ended on Friday evening and you found yourself filing out of the door with slight tension in your neck and relief at the weekend ahead. With no plans on your schedule, you were free to sleep in as late as you wanted and relax properly.

You mind drifted back to your plans from the previous weekend. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had so much fun with someone who wasn’t Shinsou or Tokoyami. Midoriya was so sweet and always so genuine about everything, being around him really had a way of letting you see the world through his eyes in a much more optimistic light. You’d been serious when you offered to hang out more and you found yourself secretly hoping he’d reach out.

Before you could even open the door to your dorm, you heard your suitmate’s shrill giggles outside the door. It wasn’t like her to entertain company in the suite common area, as she usually just took her friends straight back to her room but you didn’t begrudge her for it. She kept out of your hair most of the time to the point where you barely remembered she was there and she was sweet enough to let Shinsou in when you didn’t hear his knocks. Speaking of which....

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me your friend here was such a charmer?!” She squealed in delight the second you walked through the door. She was currently sitting on the sofa with her legs thrown over Shinsou’s lap, a smile donning her face that showed off all thirty-two of her teeth. Shinsou was smirking to himself as his hands trailed dangerously high on her legs and thighs.

“Took you long enough, thought you were never gonna show up. Been here almost thirty minutes, luckily I had company,” Shinsou looked quite smug and you couldn’t tell if you should turn around and give them some privacy or not.

“Don’t let me interrupt, I was just gonna head in early anyway,” you laughed with a slight awkwardness while turning to the door that led to your room.

“Like hell you are,” Shinsou stood, brushing off your suite-mate so that he could follow you into your room, barely throwing her a quick “catch you later,” despite cozying up to her for half an hour. Shinsou’s ego when it came to women was really unbelievable sometimes, it made you wonder why so many girls would put up with it but maybe they saw something in him (or at least in their attraction to him) that you just didn’t.

“Have you forgotten what tonight is? I’m feeling pretty generous so I’ll even let you pick the movie,” Shinsou made his way over to your bed and flopped down.

“We haven’t done Movie Night in weeks, hell last week we, and by we I mean I, worked on lab assignments the whole night,” you sat your backpack down by your desk.

“Yeah but that was last week. This week, we’re doing movie night.”

“One of your dates must have canceled on you, huh?”

“Y’know I could always walk across the hall and remedy that,” Shinsou smirked in that cruel way of his. He didn’t do it often but there would be the rare occasions where Shinsou would throw his prowess in your face to see how you’d react. As if to remind you of the stark difference between the two of you. He could get any girl he wanted without even trying, yet no guy would come within ten feet of you in a romantic way. These were facts you’d long since come to terms with and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Be my guest, just try to keep it down, I’ve got some homework I need to catch up on,” you chuckled, sliding into your desk chair.

“Please, as if I’d ever touch a girl like her. Have you seen that face?” Shinsou scoffed, as if his hand wasn’t just creeping up her skirt not even ten minutes prior.

“I have actually. I think she’s quite pretty,” you hummed, getting out your laptop. You were serious about catching up on that homework even if he wasn’t.

“Well you’ve always had terrible eyesight and dogshit taste so I’m not surprised. Put that away, I already told you we’re having movie night. You can do your homework literally any other time,” you could tell by his whining he wasn’t going to let it go so you might as well cave now.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go make the popcorn then we can find something to wa- actually, does it have to just be us? I wanna invite someone else,” you picked up your phone, scrolling down to find Midoriya’s number.

“I already told you I’m not gonna screw your suite-mate, why do y-”

“I’m not talking about her, I’m talking about Midoriya,” you wondered if you should just call him but that felt a little too pushy so you settled for a generic ‘you busy?’ text.

“Hoping he’ll put in a good word for you with Todoroki? Or that he’ll bring him along? Honestly, Y/N, this is getting pretty pathetic,” You knew Shinsou’s annoyance was stemming from his concern for you as a friend but he was taking the tough love approach a little too far.

“Believe it or not; I actually like hanging out with Midoriya, you ass. We had fun last week.”

“Oh great, now you’re another fan girl for All Might Jr. I think I would’ve preferred if you just stuck to your guns with Todoroki,” you ignored Shinsou as you texted Izuku back. It seemed he was up for joining you two.

“It’s not like that, it’s just nice to have a friend who doesn’t have group leader ego,” you grumbled, putting your phone down.

“I never asked to be group leader, but you and Tokoyami weren’t exactly stepping up,” Shinsou smirked. He could be so full of himself sometimes, it was hard to imagine him as the same shy middle schooler you met all those years ago. But behind all that bravado, you knew he could still be sweet and a genuinely good friend even if he got embarrassed when people saw that side of him.

“I’m gonna go make popcorn. You can go ahead and find something, I wanna already have the movie ready with Midoriya gets here,” you stood and stretched, making your way to the kitchen.

“Hope Wonderboy likes horror movies,”Shinsou grumbled, grabbing your remote.

//////

AN: I know Shinsou’s kind of an asshole in this chapter but there’s a reason for it, I promise :) and I know I haven’t stated it explicitly in the story but Shinsou, Tokoyami, and Reader were all close friends while at UA and still are even though they don’t see Tokoyami quite as much because he has other friends and was never quite as close with Shinsou and Reader as they are with each other.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #izuku midoriya x poc reader #izuku midoriya x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x plus size reader #bnha x poc!reader #izuku

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typical-simplelove · 3 years ago

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On Your Right (M. Tkachuk)

Author's Note: The longest one-shot I have ever written is for @raysofcrosby for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange; this is my first exchange, so hopefully, I did well. Thanks to Demi for organizing this! I truly had a blast working on this. I hope you enjoy this!! I used inspo from To All the Boys I've Loved Before and Bridgerton for this. Enjoy reading!

Summary: When you and Matthew both find yourself needing dates to individual events, Matthew proposes a plan where you both fake date. He suggests that he, who's been in love with you since the age of ten, and you, who is convinced Matthew hates you, date. What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 21.4k

Warnings: the time may not coincide with the way time works, but ignore that; hatred; friends hating each other; Matthew being an ass; fake dating; mentions of sex (nothing explicit or too NSFW, though); planes; only one bed

Sitting on the patio chair of the Tkachuk's deck was exactly how you expected to spend a Sunday afternoon in the early weeks of summer vacation. For the past ten years, it's the exact way you've always spent your Sunday afternoons in the summer. It was always the same. Your mother and Chantal would be in the kitchen with the air conditioning, and your dad and Keith would be at the grill making dinner. What they would make would change, but it would usually be somewhere between burgers and hotdogs to chicken or salmon. It was always a surprise. They'd never tell the kids not wanting any complaining. You always sat in a chair with Taryn on your left and with Matthew on your right. Across from you sat your brother and Brady next to him. Keith always sat at one head and Chantal at the other. Your dad sat in the seat next to Keith, and your mother sat next to Chantal. You would always drink lemonade, and your brother would drink iced tea. You never got to drink that at home, so you and your brother would make sure to share your cups. Sometimes, Matthew would drink a pop of his choice and share it with you. If it rained, the Tkachuks would go to your home, and the seating situation was the same around your dining room table.

Chantal and your mother would insist that you kids couldn't play inside at these Sunday afternoon dinners. Sometimes, your brother and the boys would play soccer and maybe let you and Taryn join. Oftentimes, though, you and Taryn would hang out together. Sometimes, Matthew would play with you and Taryn, and you'd all play family. You and Matthew would be married parents, and Taryn would be your daughter. If your brother and Brady chose to join, Taryn would be the aunt, and Brady and your brother would be the children. Taryn always joked that life should always end up that way -- you and Matthew married with Taryn as the aunt to your children. When she'd bring up the topic, your mother and Chantal would always give each other a knowing look as if they knew something you both didn't. Your dad wouldn't say anything, but Keith would pat his shoulder, again, as if they knew something you didn't. Brady and your brother would gag and tease Matthew. You and Matthew never said anything; you both were close friends, some would argue best friends, but it didn't matter. You knew that Matthew would be someone who would always be in your life. In your life, ages 5-10, you didn't understand the notion of marriage. All you knew was that you wanted Matthew to be in your life, and if it was marriage, then so be it.

Despite expecting to be sitting on that patio chair, you never expected you'd be watching Taryn, Brady, Matthew, and your brother playing while you sat there by yourself. It wasn't that they weren't including you, but they also weren't not not including you. They all decided to play your least favorite game, and you didn't want to, so you decided to sit and watch. There's more to it, though. The school year ended just the previous week, and you and Matthew graduated from elementary school and would be going to middle school. Somewhere within the past few weeks. Matthew went from being one of your closest friends to hating you. He just suddenly decided he didn't like you. You weren't sure why, but he just stopped being your friend. You told your mother you were sick so as not to have to come to the Tkachuk's today, but she said no. She saw right through your lie. You didn't know why Matthew didn't want to be your friend anymore, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. No longer were the days where you and Matthew would pretend to be a married couple. No more were the days where Matthew would share his pop with you. No more were the days where Matthew was your closest friend.

When Chantal called for dinner, you ran to the washroom to wash your hands and sat back in your usual spot. Despite knowing Matthew's recent emotions towards you, you hoped he'd still sit next to you. You watched as Taryn returned from washing her hands and began to apologize for not playing a game you liked. You told her it was okay, it was, and watched your brother take his seat across from you, as normal. You watched Brady put the toys away and go to the washroom to wash his hands. You watched as Keith and your father put the grilled chicken on the table, and Chantal and your mother set the sides on the table. Finally, Matthew emerged from the house, but what he did next confused you. He sat in Brady's usual seat.

"What are you doing, Matthew?" Brady asks when he sees where his brother is sitting. Matthew glares at you and shrugs.

"I just want to sit next here, today," Matthew says with anger in his voice. You weren't sure why he was suddenly so angry, but the look he had as he stared at you sent chills down your spine. That's when you knew. That's when you knew that Matthew hated you. He doesn't like you anymore, and you doubted he ever would You didn’t know it, then, but you now know that when Matthew opted to sit in a different seat and treat you with anger, he broke your heart.

Matthew Tkachuk broke your heart at the age of ten.

. . .

With Matthew out of the picture as a friend, you found yourself growing closer to your other friends. One friend, in particular, became your closest friend, Shelly. You and Shelly became the best of friends and stuck together through middle school, high school, and college. It was Shelly who convinced you that it would be a good idea to move to Calgary despite your hated family friend living there.

"Shelly, I don't think so," you tell her. "Actually, I know so."

"Come on, Ynn," Shelly eggs on. "Do it for me? I'm getting married! Please, can you bring a date? Actually, it's a must thing. I'm telling you that you have to bring a date. That's the only thing I need from you."

"So, the only thing I need to do as your maid of honor is to bring a date?"

"I mean, no? But, the wedding is in two months, and most of the stuff I've needed you to do has been done. Just this one thing, okay? I think you'll enjoy it much better if you have someone to hang out with. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with him and marry him, and I can be your maid of honor."

"Fine," you grumble. "But, only because I love you."

You hang up the phone and groan. How were you supposed to find a date? You had a few work friends in Calgary, but you found it difficult to find a date. The one thing that annoyed you the most was that you had two months to find someone you liked and trusted enough to bring to St. Louis for a wedding. What were you going to do?

Now, a month later, you were standing outside one certain door you never thought you would with a plate of cookies, their favorite cookies, and angry that this was your last resort. You knock on the door of the apartment and await the smirk and comment you were bound to get.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my biggest admirer, Yn Yln," Matthew says with his signature smirk. Yup, you guessed it.

"Matthew," you grumble and walk into his apartment as he welcomes you inside. "Here are some cookies."

Matthew takes the plate from you, opens it up, and bites into a cookie. "Thank you," he says with a mouthful of cookies. You grimace at the sight and remind yourself about the task at hand. "You know, when you called me, I forgot you were in Calgary. Why haven't you ever called me before to hang out?"

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Maybe the small fact that we've hated each other since we were like ten? Or, how about that time you spilled water down my dress at our joint eighth-grade graduation party? Or, how about that time you spilled Gatorade on my English project? Or, how about that time you told everyone we were dating when you clearly know WE WEREN'T. Or, how about that time you took my car keys and hid them at the bottom of your hockey bag in the men's locker room? Would you like me to continue? I can keep going as far as you need."

"No, no, I get the point. No need to remind me," Matthew tells you. He internally cringes at his actions growing up, but he has too much pride to apologize. "Anyways, that was when we were growing up and in high school. I haven't treated you like that in ages."

Matthew knows he shouldn't have said that immediately when he sees the glare you give him. "I have a list if you'd like for me to list it out?"

"Okay, fine, message understood. You hate me, and I hate you because of it. What do you need? You called me pretty frantically."

You narrow your eyes at Matthew. "Firstly, I did not call you frantically. I called you asking if I could ask for a favor. Secondly, I only hate you because you hate me. Third, I need your help with something."

"Okay, firstly, yes you did. Second, maybe that's right. Third, just tell me."

"Can you set me up with a teammate or a friend of yours for me to take to Shelly's wedding?" you blurt out in one breath.

"What?" Matthew laughs breathlessly, not sure if he heard you right.

"I need a date for Shelly's wedding, and I need you to set me up with someone you trust, please."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"No," you grumble out, and Matthew laughs at you. "It's not like you have a girlfriend or anything."

"Wow, look at you. Firing shots, huh?"

"Matthew, can you or can you not set me up with someone you know and trust?"

"Sure, I'll see who I can find."

"Great, thank you," you say and make your way to leave.

"Where are you going?" Matthew asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Home?"

"You just came here to ask me that and leave?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," you say blatantly. Matthew is shocked by your words and takes a visible step back. He isn't sure why your words shocked him so much because he knows you're both not friends. He knows for a fact you're both not friends but hearing you actually say it after all these years is shocking to him.

"Right, not friends. You can leave then. You can take your cookies back."

"No, no, I made them for you. I know they're your favorite. Thanks, again, Matthew."

"Sure, sure," he says as you walk out the door. He locks the door behind you and is instantly confused why he hates that you're both not friends. He knows you’re not friends. Both his and your actions over the past years have proven it, but he thought — he actually doesn't know what he thought. As the season came to an end, Matthew had another task at hand — finding someone for you to take as a date even though he knows no one he knows is good enough for you.

. . .

Matthew was sitting at the bar with his teammates sizing them all up wondering which one would be good enough for you to have as a date. There was Noah; Matthew guesses he could be okay with you with him, but Matthew knows you could do better. There was Jacob, and Matthew knew he'd treat you well. Maybe he should ask Jacob if he'd join you as a date.

"Matthew, why do you keep staring at us?" Noah asks.

"I have someone I know who needs help finding a date for a wedding this summer," Matthew explains. "This person I know asked if I could set them up with someone I know and trust."

"Do you need a guy? If so, then go with Jacob. He'll treat your friend, right," Elias says.

"Yn's not my friend," Matthew is quick to say.

"Is she someone you’re more than friends with?" Noah asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, absolutely not," Matthew says as he vehemently shakes his head. "No, we've hated each other since we were like ten."

"Why are you helping her, then?"

Matthew just stares at Noah. Why was he helping you? You both weren’t friends, as you made abundantly clear the other day. Matthew didn’t know why he was helping you. You were a long-time family friend and by far one of the most amazing people he’s ever met. But, that didn’t answer the question as to why he was helping you. You were someone amazing, yet Matthew still can’t seem to pinpoint why he was helping you. Matthew knows that if he doesn’t help you Chantal would have his head. Maybe, just maybe, it was the small, no large, crush he’s harbored for you since you were both ten. Maybe, just maybe, he truly, deep down cared about who you dated if it couldn’t be him. “I’m not sure,” Matthew deflects knowing fully why he was helping you.

“Maybe you should strike her a deal,” Mark mentions. “You find her a date for the wedding, and she finds you a date for the End-of-Year Charity Gala.”

Matthew perks his head up towards his captain. He forgot about the Gala.

“Oh no, Matthew has a smirk on his face. What’s your idea?” Noah says suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Matthew says, not losing his smirk. He has one splendid idea that he is sure to solve both your dating issues.

. . .

Matthew: I have a date for you. He’ll come over tomorrow at 5 pm with flowers, okay?

Yn: Okay, sounds good! I can’t wait to meet him.

Matthew: You’ll love him.

Matthew knows you won’t. Based on what his plan was, he knew you wouldn’t like it. He only hoped you wouldn’t slap him across the face.

. . .

The day after Matthew texted you and said when your date would show up, you were nervous. Incredibly nervous. You hoped that, for once, Matthew wouldn’t be an ass and set you up with someone nice. You were pacing around your kitchen and 4:58 pm when the doorbell rang. You stood up straight and took a deep breath. You could do this. You weren’t going to actually date the guy; you were just going to ask him to accompany you to a wedding back home and that was it. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Matthew?” you ask in disbelief as you lock eyes with Matthew’s striking blue eyes. You give him a once-over and notice he’s wearing a white shirt, a tight shirt that fits him way too well, and black dress pants. What was with the fancy wear? You meet his eyes again, and you’re met with his eyes full of love, happiness, and worry as they stare deep into your eyes. You’ve yet to ever see this mix of emotion in Matthew’s eyes when he looks at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You and Matthew continue staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both not wanting to break the trance you’ve found yourself in.

“Hey, Yn,” Matthew finally says, realizing who he was looking at. He hands you the bouquet of your favorite flowers. “These are for you.”

“Oh, um, come in,” you say and usher him inside. You hate him, Yn. Stop with these emotions, you keep telling yourself. Why did he suddenly have this effect on you? Matthew walks into your apartment, takes his shoes off, and sits on a chair at your counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your date,” Matthew says nervously, but you still see the love lining his eyes as you speak. You haven’t seen that look directed to you in a while.

“No, absolutely not. We hate each other, remember? Why would I suddenly bring you as a date?”

“Look, before you go crazy, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” Matthew asks softly. You nod and turn away to put the flowers in a vase. You make sure your back is to Matthew because you don’t want him to see how flustered you are by his soft tone towards you.

After placing the flowers in a vase and placing it on the coffee table, you say, “Okay, Matthew, what do you have to say?”

“You know how at the end of the season, the Flames have an End-of-Year Charity Gala?” you shake your head no, and Matthew chuckles softly, and your faith grows warm. “Well, we have one, and I need to bring a date.”

“Okay?”

“So, what if we pretend to date? Like, you come with me to the gala, and I go with you to Shelly’s wedding,” Matthew proposes nervously.

“Why would you want that, Matthew? You hate me.”

“I don’t — I couldn’t ha— you know what? It doesn’t matter. Look, you need a date, and I need a date, so why don’t we just go together and solve both our problems?”

“Matthew, I don’t know.”

“Yn, come on. What’s stopping you?”

“You hate me, Matthew,” you tell him softly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.

Matthew sighs. He could never hate you. He never really hated you; he just had to pretend to hate you because of how he felt. When Matthew was ten, he realized that he had a crush on you. He realized he like liked you, and he didn’t know what to do about it, so he just ignored you and was mean to you. Unfortunately, over the years, Matthew couldn’t let go of those feelings, and he fell more and more for you as he watched you grow into the beautiful person you are now. Seeing you walk into this apartment with the cookies the other day, Matthew realized that he was still hopelessly in love with you. At first, Matthew thought that he could find a date for you. He could find someone who was perfect for you because everyone knows that he could never be it for you, but, as he began going through his list of friends, he realized that even they weren’t good enough for you. Matthew knew you’d never feel the same way about him, but if Matthew can have you as a fake girlfriend, then that’s what he’ll have, then. “We both don’t want to find a date for our events, so why don’t we just pretend to date, then?”

You look at Matthew and see the sincerity in his eyes. You see the longing and want for you to say yes. You’ve always loved looking into Matthew’s eyes and seeing the emotion in them. You’ve never seen this kind of emotion directed towards you. You see the longing and sadness and wishing for you to say yes; however, you also see love? You couldn’t possibly be seeing that in his eyes. Could you? “Okay,” you whisper, suddenly being overwhelmed with what you saw laced in Matthew’s eyes and facial expressions.

“Okay?” Matthew asks, confirming because he was in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. We can fake date.”

Matthew rushes over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he holds you tightly.

“Of course, Matthew. You had a good idea that helped us both.”

Matthew leaves shortly after with a fake girlfriend and a wide smile on his face. He only hoped that he wouldn’t fall harder for you now that he’s finally somehow got you.

. . .

Matthew came over two weeks later, one day before the Flames’ last game, to sort out the terms of your and Matthew’s fake dating ruse. You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. No one back home would believe that you and Matthew were dating. You both have hated each other for as long as you can remember. Everyone would be shocked that you and Matthew can possibly stand to be in the same room together. The fact that you moved to the same city was also a giant shock to everyone. Not a single person would believe it, but why did your heart suddenly race when you thought of you and Matthew fake dating? Why did your pulse quicken at the thought of being on Matthew’s arm at the Gala? Why did you enjoy the cheeky messages Matthew has been sending you and telling you that he was trying to “fill the role perfectly”? Why did your heart hurt when you realized it was all fake?

“I brought some takeout, is that good?” Matthew asks as he steps into your apartment. In his hands, he has a bag of food from your favorite restaurant in Calgary and another bouquet. You take the bag of food and the flowers from his hand, and Matthew goes into your cupboards to find some plates. The domesticity of the situation made your heart lurch through your chest, but you still weren’t sure why.

“That’s perfect, thanks, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile as Matthew sets the plates down on the counter. You place the flowers in another vase and put them next to the flowers Matthew brought previously that were probably ready to be tossed. “You don’t have to buy me flowers every time you come by.”

“Firstly, it’s been like two times, and secondly, let me treat you, okay? I am your boyfriend, after all, so I might as treat you as you deserve to be treated,” Matthew tells you as if he was preaching fact. He talked to you as if he didn’t hate you your entire life and only just started liking you.

“Fake boyfriend,” you correct. You want to make sure that the parameters of your relationship are clearly defined.

“You tell that to Shelly? That you and I are fake dating?” Matthew asks with a smirk.

“I told her I had a date, and I was going to tell her it was you, but she told me to surprise her on her wedding day. I’m convinced she thinks I don’t have a date,” you tell Matthew and take a bite of food. You moan in delight, and Matthew grins knowing he picked the perfect meal for you. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

Matthew shrugs, but a playful smile is a dead giveaway that he has an explanation. “I guess I just know you really well.”

“That’s ridiculous, Matthew. You do not know me at all. I’ve changed since you stopped being my friend when we were ten.”

“Hey! I did not stop being your friend. You stopped being my friend,” Matthew feigns hurt even though he knows your words are right.

“Matthew, I stopped being your friend because you stopped being friends with me.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Matthew mumbles and opting to look down at his plate instead of at you where he’d much rather be looking.

“You stopped being my friend after we graduated from elementary school. I remember that the third Sunday dinner we had that summer was the first time you stopped sitting next to me, and I knew that you were officially not my friend anymore.”

“You sure that’s what happened, Yn? Are you sure that it wasn’t you who stopped being my friend?”

“I always sat in the same middle seat, Matthew. You opted to sit in Brady’s seat instead.”

“Fine, whatever. Agree to disagree?”

“Sure, sure, even though I’m right.”

Matthew laughs at your words and shakes his head. “How we were ever friends baffles me because we are both so stubborn.”

“That we are,” you agree, and a comfortable silence fills your kitchen as you and Matthew continue to eat.

“You know,” Matthew says breaking the silence, “I do know you better than you think.”

“As do I,” you tell him not meeting his eye. You always were quite observant of Matthew despite you two not being friends anymore. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. No, it probably wasn’t because of how gorgeous he was.

“Okay, you tell me something about myself, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Yn; you just say something.”

“But I want you to tell me what you want me to say,” you tease.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about me,” Matthew gives you his signature smirk.

“I’m starting to think the same about you.”

Matthew sighs and shakes his head. “How about we talk about our situation instead?”

“Our ruse?” you tease and quirk your eyebrows.

“Sure, our ruse,” Matthew says, not sure why you had that look on your face. “What is our story? We could just say we hooked up and realized that we liked each other.”

“As much as that story is believable, I don’t think that Shelly will believe that. Why don’t we go with something else? How about: I was lonely in the city and needed someone familiar, so I called you, and the rest just fell together.”

“I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Matthew says. As much as he loves and thinks it’s a good story, he’d very much rather have a bit more romantic and loving story, so Matthew can have the fake relationship he’d always wanted with you.

“Oh, come on, Matthew, it’s perfect!” you pout, and Matthew knows he’s going to bend for you because it’s you. He always bent to your will regardless of whether or not you knew it.

“Fine, we’ll use your story. How long have we been dating?”

“Why don’t we just keep it vague to minimize any questions? Should we say a few months now? Anything longer will be suspicious, and anything shorter would be weird. The most we can say is three to three and a half months because when I talked to Shelly about two months ago, she was under the impression I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

“Okay, fair. You know,” Matthew says with a smirk, “the fact that you’re able to throw together the perfect fake-dating story makes me think that you’ve done this before.”

You burst out laughing. “You seriously think that? I thought you knew me.”

“I do know you.”

“Then you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic, and the amount of times I’ve read fake dating romance novels is unbelievable. The only thing, though, is that our story won’t end up with us dating but with us maybe being friends.”

“Right,” Matthew says, and he looks down at his plate sadly realizing you truly didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, did I say anything wrong?” you apologize. You weren’t sure why Matthew suddenly got upset, but you thought it couldn’t have possibly been your words. How could it? You and Matthew have hated each other for years. It’d be ridiculous to think that this ruse would end in an actual relationship.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry,” Matthew sends you a soft smile, and your stomach does somersaults. “What about physical stuff?”

You glare at Matthew trying to figure out exactly what he was asking for in this fake relationship. “Explain because if you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not happening.”

“No, Yn, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” Matthew replies shocked that you’d even bring up the notion. “No, I meant like holding hands, my arms wrapped around you, kissing and stuff like that. Things that couples do, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I guess we could hold hands and touch each other to keep up the facade, but only in public.”

Matthew nods. “Only in public.”

You make moves to clear the table, but Matthew stops you and clears the table for you. “Sit, I’ll take care of it.”

“Matthew —” you begin.

“Nope, my fake girlfriend doesn’t need to clear her table, so sit down.”

“Maybe you should be my fake-boyfriend forever if you’re going to be clearing my table and stuff like this.”

“I mean if you’d like,” Matthew smirks and sends you a wink. He continues cleaning up by placing the dishes in the dishwasher and placing the leftovers in a Tupperware container and inside the fridge. You’re watching him concentrate on the task at hand, and suddenly, you’re drawn to his lips. You were drawn to the way he bit his lip in concentration and licked the bottom lip now and then. You watched the way he’d stop biting his lips and realize that you want to be the one to bite his lip. You wanted to kiss Matthew.

“Hey, um, Matthew?” you begin hesitantly.

“Mmm,” he replies looking up.

“Should we, um, kiss?” your eyes don’t meet Matthew’s, and you’re intent on staring at the tiles on the floor of your kitchen instead.

“I mean, sure, when we’re out in public. It’d be weird if we didn’t, right?”

“Right,” you nod knowingly and happy that Matthew didn’t realize the true meaning of your request. You look up and notice him watching you curiously. The sparkle in his eyes makes your face warm under his gaze, and you know that he’s figured out what you were truly thinking.

“Or,” he begins with a smirk, “we could practice now, so we know what to do when we kiss in front of people.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, barely audible.

Matthew, being the pest he is, smirks at your words and asks you to repeat them. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. I need you to repeat it.”

“I think that we should practice kissing,” you say again, slightly louder, but Matthew’s shit-eating grin tells you that you’re going to have to repeat yourself.

“Come on, baby, I need to hear you loud and clear,” he walks over to you, and you shift in your seat to face him. You stand up, so you’re level with him (as much as you can be considering his height), and Matthew puts his hands on your waist. “This okay?” he asks, and you nod, but when he raises his eyebrows, you know you have to give him audible consent.

“Yes, Matthew, and I think that you should kiss me,” you tell him loud and clear. Matthew’s grin widens, and he dips his head towards yours. You put your hands around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him.

“This okay?” he asks with concern lacing his features. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.

“More than okay,” you reply and lean towards him. Matthew dips his head towards yours and places his lips softly on yours. He planned on pulling back and that being the end of the kiss, but his instincts and strong desire to kiss you stopped him. Matthew’s hands leave your waist and cup your face. He holds you forcefully but also gently. You both deepen the kiss, and your mouth separates as Matthew works his mouth against yours. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip begging to meet his. Matthew puts his hands back on your waist and pulls you close and flush against his body. There’s no space between the two of you, not a single inch of air. You both pull away after the kiss crossed the line between what your relationship truly was. You both pull away but your heads are still close to each other. You’re looking into Matthew’s blue eyes that are laced with longing and desire. You watch Matthew’s eyes glance down to your lips as you long for his lips to be on yours again.

“We have the practice, now,” Matthew says in a deep voice, almost huskily.

“That we do,” you reply softly.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Absolutely not, Matthew. I would have slapped you if you stepped out of line,” you tell him, and Matthew’s deep chuckle sends the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You take a step back from Matthew and sit back in your chair. “Maybe if we kiss in front of people, it shouldn’t be that deep and passionate.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Matthew tells you. He loved kissing you. Now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else. He wants to keep kissing you for as long as you would possibly let him. “Oh, that reminds me.”

“Mmhm?”

“I may or may not have let the cat slip out of the bag that I had a girlfriend, and now the team is expecting you to be at the last game tomorrow and our celebration.”

“Matthew!”

“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!”

“How does it just slip out?”

“Some people asked if I had a date for the Gala, and I said I was bringing my girlfriend.”

“So, I have to go to the game tomorrow?”

“Please?” Matthew pouts. “I’ll owe you big time.”

“You already owe me big time,” you point out.

“Fine, just come to the game tomorrow? You don’t have to wear my jersey or anything, just come?”

“I’ll be there, and if you give me a jersey, I’ll wear it, okay? Or, I can just wear Brady’s.”

“No, never. Wait, why do you have Brady’s jersey and not mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthew asks as he walks over to the door. You walk with him and unlock the door.

“See you tomorrow, fake boyfriend,” you tell him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Tomorrow, fake girlfriend,” Matthew says and walks out the door. When the door is closed, he places his hands on his cheek where you kissed him. He touches his lips softly remembering how you kissed him just recently. Just remembering your mouth being anywhere near his face made him melt. Matthew was digging himself into a hole he only hoped he’d be able to escape from.

. . .

You walked up to the Friends & Family box still trying to recover from Matthew kissing you barely twenty-four hours prior. You didn’t have Matthew’s jersey to wear, so you opted for a red shirt with jeans and a leather jacket. You’ve also never met anyone on the team before, so you were scared as to what they would say.

You stepped into the box and were instantly overwhelmed with what you saw. All the other wives and girlfriends and children were mingling around, and you felt out of place. One of the WAGs walked over to you, and said, “You must be Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I’m Annica, Elias’s girlfriend. Don’t worry about being nervous or whatever, Matthew is crazy about you, so we’re automatically crazy about you, too! Everyone, this is Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You stood there as everyone introduced themselves, and you maybe remembered two of those names.

“Matthew left you a jersey because he knew you didn’t have one,” Lauren, Mark’s wife, tells you. She hands you the jersey, and you look at it. Were you supposed to put it on? “You can just put it on over your shirt and leave your jacket on a chair.”

You nod. You put on the jersey and look down at the number on your sleeve. You smiled. You liked the way it looked on you.

Watching the game with the other girls was interesting and exciting. You chatted with the other women and played with the children. It was exhilarating to be in the Saddledome during a game, especially the last of the season. You haven’t been to a game in Calgary despite living there. Every time the Tkachuks came to town, you always told them you couldn’t go to the game. It didn’t feel right, but now that you’ve been to a game, you wanted to keep coming to the games. The Flames ended up coming out on top to celebrate their final game, and the arena was loud and bursting with happiness. You followed behind as everyone walked to outside the locker rooms to wait for the team. You stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. You played with your jacket in your hand just as Matthew walked out. He spotted you instantly, and his heart lurched through his chest as he saw you in his jersey. His eyes widened at seeing his number on your arm, and if possible, he fell more in love with you.

“Hey,” he says as he walks over. You look up and give him a wide smile.

“Hi,” you tell him and pull your fake boyfriend into a large hug as you whisper in his ear, “you played amazing.”

Your words send shivers down Matthew’s spine, and he holds you tightly. “Thank you.”

You both pull away and notice some of Matthew’s teammates and significant others greeting each other with congratulatory kisses. Were you both supposed to kiss? “Should we kiss, Matthew?” you whisper.

“What?” he whispers back, not sure if he heard you properly.

“You heard me, should we kiss? Everyone else is.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Would it be awkward if we didn’t?”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your response as he hungrily leans down and kisses you. Despite kissing you yesterday, Matthew was waiting earnestly for the day he’d get to kiss you again. It wasn’t as passionate as the night before, but somehow, it was even more intimate despite being in public. You both full away flushed with the kiss, and Matthew’s teammates holler around you both. “Oh, shut up.”

Matthew leads you to his car and holds your hand. “Did you want to come to celebrate with us?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought that was part of this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but not everyone is going out, so if you don’t want to, we can just head to my place.”

“We can go to your place, then.”

“Okay,” Matthew says to you and opens the car door for you. He closes the door and heads towards the driver’s side. When he gets in, he asks, “How did you get here if I’m driving you home?”

“Oh, I walked because I don’t work too far from here,” you explain, and Matthew whips his heat towards you. “What?”

“You walked? Do you not have a car?” he asks as if the notion were beyond him.

“Yeah, it was like ten minutes.”

“If you didn’t have a ride or something, I would have sent someone to pick you up.”

“I walk to work, Matthew.”

“You walk? No, from now on, I will be driving you to work and wherever you need to be.”

You giggle to yourself softly. “I have a car, but I just walk to work because it’s only five minutes.”

“No, I refuse to let you walk to work.”

“Matthew,” you say gently and place your hand on his thigh. “I’m fine, I promise, okay?”

Matthew looks at the soft look in your eyes and the anger he has dissipated. “Okay, but if you ever need a ride somewhere, please just let me know, and I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Okay, but I do have a car, you know,” you tell him, and Matthew starts the car and heads towards his apartment. Why was Matthew so concerned and angry about the fact that you don’t drive to work? You ponder the thought and are so deep in trying to figure it out that you don’t realize that you’ve reached Matthew’s apartment until he tells you so.

“You okay?” Matthew asks as you’re standing in the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Not sure, you seem kind of spaced out.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Promise?” Matthew asks.

“Promise,” you reply with a smile.

You and Matthew walk into his apartment, and your breath is taken away by the view of Matthew’s apartment. You take your shoes off and just stand there staring. You drop your purse and bag on the floor and walk over to the window in a trance.

“Yn, you good?” Matthew asks, confused about your actions.

“It’s just so pretty, Matthew,” you say and reach for your phone in your back pocket and take a photo. Matthew can’t help but smile at your actions. Sure, the view was pretty to him, but he saw it each day, so it wasn’t as special to him. Watching you take in the view, though, gave Matthew a new insight into how pretty the view truly was. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew was staring at you, looking beautiful with the dim lighting of his living room and wearing his jersey, instead of the view, but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful, and if he was talking about you? Then, so be it!

“I’m just going to get changed real quick, okay?” Matthew asks. He didn’t want to leave you standing there alone, but he knows he won’t be comfortable in his suit. “I can stay if you want.”

You giggle to yourself. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but —”

“Go,” you push Matthew in the direction of his room. “I’ll be fine.” Matthew looks behind him once more to you; you give him a pointed look, and Matthew walks to his room to change.

You settle yourself on the couch and sit there staring at the TV stand. On it are sitting picture frames with photos of Matthew’s family and friends. One photo, in particular, stands out to you. You get up and walk to the photo and smile at it. You pick it up and stare at it. It was a photo of Brady, Taryn, Matthew, your brother, and you. You don’t remember the photo being taken but it was around when you were six or seven. You were sitting at the table in Tkachuk's backyard before dinner. Matthew was sitting on your right, as he should, and with Taryn on your left.

“Find anything interesting?” Matthew asks as he walks out. He walks over to you and rests an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m surprised you have a photo of me sitting here,” you tell him and look at him.

“Why?” Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I just, I don’t know.”

Matthew walks over to the couch and sits. You place the photo back on the stand and join him. You sit next to him on your right, and Matthew, again, rests an arm around your shoulder. “I have photos of the important people in my life.”

Matthew turns on the TV and begins flipping through Netflix. He selects one of your favorite movies, and you’re surprised he knows it, but then again, Matthew seems to know more about you than you realized.

As the movie continues, you and Matthew move closer and closer together to the point where you’re cuddled into him and your head moves in sync with Matthew’s breathing. The warmth that Matthew’s body exudes and the pattern of his breaths put you to sleep. When Matthew notices you’ve fallen asleep, he doesn’t want to wake you, so he tightens his hold on you and grabs the blanket that was sitting over the couch (he silently thanks his mom for making him put it there), and he places it on you. He softly kisses your forehead with a soft, ”goodnight, Yn.”

. . .

The next morning, after you’ve woken up, eaten breakfast that Matthew made for you, and left for the day, Matthew was on his way to the Saddledome for the exit interviews of the season. It didn’t end the way the team wanted, but they fought tooth and nail until the last game, and they should be proud of that.

As Matthew walks into the locker room, he has a soft smile on his face of pure bliss.

“So, what did you and Yn do last night?” Noah teases when he sees his teammate. “You’re never one to turn down a night out.”

“I didn’t go out because Yn didn’t want to. I think she was overwhelmed with meeting everyone, and I just wanted her to be comfortable.”

“Wow, Matthew, look at you maturing for the better,” Mark teases. He was waiting for the day that Matthew would meet a girl and act this way for her.

“Whatever,” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“Matthew’s in looooove,” someone teases and everyone else laughs in response. Matthew, again, just rolls his eyes in response. He had no other response.

Matthew only wishes that the person he was in love with was him, too.

. . .

You’re standing outside Matthew’s apartment door with your dress in your hand with a bag of the things you needed to get ready over your shoulder. You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you were. You were about to ring the doorbell, but Matthew opened the door first.

“How did you know I was here?” you ask as you walk into his apartment.

“I mean, I had to buzz you into the building, so I was waiting for you,” Matthew says as if it were obvious.

“Oh.”

“You can shower first. I probably take less time than you to get ready, so you can shower first.”

You nod. “Okay, can I hang up my dress in your closet?”

“Yeah, of course. What color is it? I probably should have asked before, so that we could match.”

You smile. “It’s a lavender color. I doubt you own anything lavender.”

“My mom bought me a lavender dress shirt for Christmas, so, yes, I do own something lavender.”

You giggle to yourself softly and head into his bedroom to hand up your dress. You walk into his washroom and set your things there. “Thank you, Matthew.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “I left you towels and stuff. Just let me know when I can shower, okay?”

You nod. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly at a loss for words. What was it with Matthew?

After you showered, Matthew told you that, if you were comfortable, you could use the washroom as he showered. You told him it was fine and began styling your hair just as Matthew was showering. You were halfway done when you heard Matthew turn off the water. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he grabs the towel from behind the shower curtain. You try to calm your breathing as you watch Matthew step out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his hips and his broad shoulders and chest lined with water droplets. He stands next to you and begins to moisturize his face. You feel your face warm as you stand next to him.

Matthew walks out of the washroom, but he stops at the door and turns to you. “I’ll get ready in my bedroom, and you can get ready here. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll let you change in the bedroom.”

“Thanks, Matthew.”

“Sure,” he says and takes one step out of the washroom before stopping again. “Hey, yn?”

“Yes?” you turn to him.

“Your hair looks really pretty.”

“I haven’t finished, yet,” you point out.

“Fine, but I know for a fact that you’re going to look so incredibly beautiful.”

. . .

You put on your shoes and look at yourself once more in the mirror. You observe the way you look and take a deep breath. You take your steps out of the bedroom, and Matthew stands when he hears the clack of your heels. Matthew takes a deep breath, getting ready to see how beautiful you will undoubtedly look.

“Hey,” you say and stand in front of Matthew. You smile, and your breath stops when you see Matthew. He’s wearing a lavender shirt that matches your dress with a black tie, jacket, and pants. His clothes fit him perfectly, and it displays his body just the way clothes should.

“Hey,” he replies, and his breath stops, too. You were beautiful. The lavender gown hung on your body perfectly, and it accentuated each and every curve of your body perfectly. The color brought out your eyes, and they shone in the light. The dim light of Matthew’s apartment reflected off the design and details of your dress that Matthew knew he was going to be speechless when the light of the ballroom truly lit you up. “You’re beautiful, Yn. Gorgeous, yn!”

“Thank you,” you say bashfully and walk over to your fake boyfriend. You place your hands on his chest and straighten his tie. “You look amazing, too, Matthew.”

Matthew’s breath is shallow as you run your hands on his chest. His heart is beating through his chest, and he knows that he’s going to have to use all his energy and brainpower not to stare at you the entire night. You stop and rest your hands on his chest. “Ready to go?” you ask.

Matthew audibly swallows at your touch. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. He takes your hand and leads you towards the door. “Did you want to put your stuff in your car and drive home, or do you want to just stay the night and drive home in the morning?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Matthew won’t admit it, but he wanted you to stay the night.

As Matthew drives to the location of the Gala, he continues taking peeks at you. He isn’t sure what he’s done to get someone as beautiful as you as his date, but he’s thanking any and every higher being for blessing him with you.

Throughout the entire night, Matthew has to force himself to leave you for moments every now and then to do his job. It was difficult. He wanted to be right by your side and show the world how lucky he got to be right next to you. You were the star, and Matthew was one of your many admirers. When Matthew wasn’t talking to donors and was right next to you, he found it difficult to speak. When you’d ask a question or make a comment, Matthew would take a few seconds to reply because of you. Your laughter, your smile, and your perfume were intoxicating, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he would make it through the rest of the night.

Annica wanted to grab another drink from the bar, so you went with her. Matthew, reluctantly, removed his hand from the small of your back and watched you lovingly as you went off with Annica. When he lost sight of you, Matthew finally turned his attention back to the group at the table.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not whipped for her and in love with her,” Elias says.

“Matthew not in love, who?” Noah jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew says. It didn’t matter if he was in love with you because you weren’t in love with him.

“Look, the minute Yn comes back, Matthew is going to put a hand on her, either on her shoulder or on her back, smile down at her, and pull her close to him. I guarantee it,” Jacob says. He was watching the two of you interact the entire night, and he knows that this will happen as it happened every time you and Matthew got separated.

“I see your point, and I raise you with this: he’s going to lean down and kiss Yn on the forehead,” Johnny adds.

“I see both your points, and I raise you with this: Matthew’s going to look at Yn, and she’s going to look at him, and they will both smile widely at each other,” Elias points out.

“Are you guys betting again?” Mark asks as he settles himself at the table as he’s making his rounds.

“Kind of. We’re trying to figure out how Yn and Matthew are going to act when she returns,” Noah explains.

“Oh, drop the subject,” Matthew says, annoyed.

“I’m not sure what has been said, but I guess that Matthew will be so enthralled by his date that everything in the world will fade away,” Mark says, “because that’s what a person in love does.”

“Look, I’m not in love with Yn, okay? Can we just drop the subject before Yn and Annica return?” Matthew replies exasperatedly.

Everyone agrees, but they all know that they will be monitoring your and Matthew’s actions when you return. Just a few moments later, you and Annica are returning to the table with a refill of drinks. You settle in next to Matthew and place a glass of wine down for you and a glass of beer for him.

“You were empty, so I got you a refill,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” he says to you and places a hand on the small of your back where it was before you left. You lean in further to him, and Matthew smiles down at you as you engage in conversation with Mark. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead, and you look up and smile at Matthew who smiles back at you. Elias mentions Matthew’s name, but Matthew is too soaked up in your presence to notice. The group is shocked. Every single one of them guessed correctly what Matthew would do when you returned.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Mark begins, “I’m going to go ask the Mrs. for a dance.”

Elias and Annica leave, too, and head to the dance floor. You stand there awkwardly wondering if you and Matthew should dance. Matthew leans his head towards yours and whispers, “Do you want to dance, Yn?”

You look at Matthew and nod with a smile. Matthew takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. He takes one hand in his and the other rests on the bare skin of your upper back. You place your other hand not in Matthew’s on his shoulder and move close to him. You both sway to the music that’s playing. As you both continue to dance, Matthew’s hand draws soft patterns on your skin sending electric shocks through your body. As the song comes to an end, the bubble you and Matthew found yourself in slowly pops, and you return to reality. It didn’t matter how special dancing with each other was, you were both not truly dating. You were living a lie, and you knew it would hurt when, one day, the ruse was over. You only hoped that you could salvage your feelings and not hurt your heart too much. You weren’t sure, though, what you were trying to save your heart from.

. . .

“Ready to head home?” Matthew whispers into your ear as you’re talking with some of the WAGs. You nod and say goodbye to the ladies. Matthew wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders as he notices you’re cold and takes your hand in his. “Thank you for being my date.”

You smile. “Thank you for taking me. I had a lot of fun.”

“I had a lot of fun with the beautiful person as my date.”

“Oh, beautiful person? Who may they be?” you tease.

“They’re you, of course. The most beautiful of people.”

“You flatter me, Matthew.”

“You deserve all the compliments in the world, Yn,” Matthew squeezes your hand and opens the car door for you. You smile in gratitude as he closes the door and heads to the driver's side. You smile in happiness at the evening you had. Matthew intertwines his hand with yours as he drives. With the late hour and the comfort of Matthew’s hand, you feel your eyes drift closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did.

“Yn? You have to wake up; we’re back at my apartment, now,” Matthew says softly as he strokes your face softly to wake you.

You slowly open your eyes, and your lips quirk up at the sound of Matthew’s soft voice. You nod and move to get out of the car.

“No, no, I’ll get the door for you,” Matthew interrupts. You’re too tired to argue, so you just let Matthew rush out of the car to open the door for you. Matthew leads you back to his apartment and ushers you into his bedroom. “You can sleep here, and I’ll take the guest room.”

“No, Matthew, I’ll take the guest room,” you interject.

“No, Yn. You did me the biggest favor by coming as my date tonight, so you can take my bed.”

“Matthew —” you were going to point out that you were taking him to Shelly’s wedding, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Yn, just take the bed, okay? You can grab a shirt and sweatpants to wear to bed.”

You nod, and Matthew walks out of the room with clothes for himself. He closes the door quietly behind him as he heads to the guest room. His one wish was that he was sleeping in that bed with you instead of you there alone.

. . .

“Yn, come on, we have to go,” Matthew says, standing in your kitchen and waiting for you to be ready to leave.

“Just give me a moment. We’ve got quite a bit of time, still.”

“You know, you’re the one who told me I had to be here at exactly this time, Yn, so you should be ready to go.”

You walk out of your bedroom lugging your suitcase and purse. Matthew rushes over to you and takes your suitcase out of your hand. In the process, Matthew’s hand brushes over yours, and you hear your heartbeat in your ears as the heat rushes to your face. “Let me just make sure that all the windows are closed and that I unplugged everything.”

When you return and are completely ready to go, you lock the door to your apartment and head to Matthew’s car. He opens the trunk to place your suitcase in, and as usual, Matthew opens the car door for you.

“You know, you don’t have to always open the car door for me, right?” you tell him.

“Just doing what any boyfriend would,” Matthew points out. “Fake or not.”

“Right,” you say. It’s been a while since you or he pointed out the fakeness of your relationship, and you almost forgot. Almost. Matthew turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to ask if you’re upset that he pointed out that you were both fake dating despite that being the obvious title between you two? You reach to turn on some music to try to ease the awkwardness in the car. You put on Taylor Swift, and Matthew groans in response.

“You know the way Taryn and I were growing up; I can’t believe you’re shocked.”

“I thought you’d show me some mercy, you know as your boyfriend?”

“I show zero mercy.”

. . .

Going through checking in and security was a breeze. You got on the plane fine just, but the nerves immediately hit as the pilot announced that the doors were closing. Your leg begins to bounce up and down, and you begin to fiddle with your fingers. Matthew glances down at you and notices your nerves.

“You’ve been on a plane before, right?” he whispers.

You nod. “Just scary sometimes.”

He nods and places his hand on your thigh causing it to stop bouncing. You feel all your nerves suddenly dissipate. “I’m here, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you whisper back. Matthew lifts the armrest between you both and scoots closer to you. He pulls you into his side, so you’re leaning against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Matthew takes your hand in his.

“It’s not a long flight. You’ll be okay.”

. . .

“Hey, you have to wake up,” Matthew whispers as he strokes your head softly. Your eyes flutter open. You didn’t realize you fell asleep on Matthew during the flight. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you yawn.

Matthew smiles softly at you. “You slept through the flight, so that’s good.”

“Oh, we landed?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, let’s get off this plane, what do you say?”

You grab your purse from under the seat in front of you, and Matthew grabs his carry-on from the overhead bin. He packed significantly more than you because he wasn’t flying home with you. Matthew would be staying in St. Louis until he flies back to Calgary for training camp.

Matthew extends his hand for you, and you take it. He walks into the aisle first with one hand holding his bag and the other behind him holding your hand. You both exit the plane and head towards customs and baggage claims.

You take a deep breath once you’re in line for customs. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t realize the nerves that would come with it. Would you be able to survive this week with Matthew?

. . .

“You go in first and get us settled; I’ll pay for the taxi,” you tell Matthew when your taxi pulls up to the hotel.

“Nope, you go in; I pay,” Matthew counters.

“Matthew —”

“I am your boyfriend, no? Just let me do this.”

“Okay,” you relent softly and head into the hotel with your luggage in tow. You head to the check-in desk. There isn’t a line, and you get your room information and key quickly. You meet Matthew at where he’s standing and lead him towards the elevator door. You both wait for the elevator in silence and walk inside in the same silence. You lead him towards your eighth-floor room and walk inside. “I made sure to request two beds, so we don’t have to share.”

“Smart,” Matthew says. You unlock the door and walk inside. You groan when you see the layout of the room and what it contains — one bed.

“Oh,” you mumble. “Only one bed.”

“What? Oh,” Matthew says as he stands next to you.

“Let me call down and see if they have another room for us.”

Matthew nods. He was frozen solid at the thought of sleeping next to you. He watches as you walk over to the phone and call down to the front desk. You tell them your issue, and Matthew watches as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration. You end the call with a “thank you, it’s no problem” and look to Matthew.

“What’s the verdict?” Matthew asks.

“They have three wedding parties staying here and no extra room with two beds for us.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Matthew suggests.

You shake your head. “We’re both adults. I’m sure we can sleep in the same bed without any issues arising.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Matthew breathes out. His throat is dry and the words are barely forming on his tongue. You nod towards Matthew and begin unpacking. You hang up your dresses in the closet and line your shoes against the wall.

“Make sure you hang up your suit, so it doesn’t get wrinkly,” you remind Matthew as you head to the washroom to unpack your toiletries. Matthew nods and does what you say. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so nervous and clammy, but he figures it’s because you are both going to be sleeping in the same bed. You both move in sync with each other as you settle into the hotel room. Once Matthew has finished, he settles on the couch and turns the TV on. You awkwardly get on the couch, and Matthew chuckles at you.

It would be a restful night, right?

. . .

After meeting with the rest of the bridal party and making sure everything was perfect for the rehearsal the next day and the wedding the day after, you head into your hotel room and see Matthew sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” you say as you get ready to shower.

“How were your preparations?” he asks.

“Not bad. I’m tired, but it’s all worth it if Shelly gets the wedding of her dreams.”

Matthew nods.

“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed; if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Matthew replies as you head to the washroom to shower. While in the shower, you did everything in your power to prolong your time there because you knew that when you finished, you’d be going to sleep. You’d be going to be sleeping in the same bed as Matthew.

Once you’ve showered and gotten ready for the night, you walk out of the washroom and see Matthew standing next to the bed.

“I pulled out the blankets and stuff when I heard the tap turn off,” Matthew bashfully tells you when you notice the bed. “I figured you’re tired and stuff, so I was trying to help.”

You smile softly at the man. “Thank you, Matthew.”

He nods at your words. “What do we do now? Should we call down for more pillows and make, like, a pillow wall?”

“Um, I don’t think we have to do that. It’s big enough where we probably won’t get in each other’s way.”

“Yeah, probably,” Matthew lies. He isn’t sure if now is the right time to mention he’s an active sleeper and moves around a lot. “You can get in first.”

“Okay,” you say and move towards the bed. You get under the covers and sigh at the comfort of the bed. You lay on your back, a position that isn’t the most comfortable for you. When you’re done, Matthew gets under the covers, and he, too, lays on his back. You don’t think it’s the most comfortable for him, either. You lean over to turn the lights off, so the entire room is cascaded in darkness. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Night, Yn.”

You both lay there in awkward silence and stare up at the ceiling. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to talk to each other until the other fell asleep? Was it okay to face each other as you slept? What happened if you woke up in a compromising position? Would your friendship (was this a friendship?) be awkward? What would the morning be like? How awkward would it be? Should you be thinking about the fact that Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt next to you? No, you shouldn’t be, but here you are thinking about Matthew’s bare chest.

You took a deep breath and hoped for sleep to easily overcome you.

Thankfully, it did. You fell asleep, and when your alarm went off, you were surprised you slept through the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep of your life. The pillows and blankets exuded this comfort and warmth that cocooned you and made it easy to fall asleep. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked by the sight in front of you. You blinked your eyes to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Nope, you definitely weren’t dreaming.

Matthew Tkachuk, your fake boyfriend and boy who has hated you since you were ten, was cuddling you into his chest. Not only that, his arms were wound tightly around your waist with your forehead comfortably on his chest. Both of your legs were intertwined with each other, and your arms were grasping his waist. No wonder you slept so well.

“Oh, good morning,” Matthew says quietly. You look up at him and notice that it looks like he’s been up for a little bit.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask.

“Wow, no good morning? I’m hurt,” Matthew pouts.

“Good morning, Matthew; how long have you been awake?”

“About half an hour?”

“And you didn’t wake me knowing we were sleeping like this?” you say annoyed and slowly pull away. Once you’re fully out of his grasp, you wish you remained in his grasp. Matthew’s body exuded this comfort and warmth that made you happy and comfortable. You wished you could return to Matthew’s hold and embrace without it seeming weird.

“You were very comfortable, it looked like, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and I figured you’d be more upset if I woke you, so I didn’t. Are you upset that I didn’t wake you?”

You ponder over his last question for a moment. No, you weren’t upset that he woke you. “No, it’s okay. I just slightly overreacted.”

“No need to apologize. You reacted just fine.”

You nod. “I have to get ready for wedding stuff, but we can go down to get breakfast together.”

“Yes, whatever you say,” Matthew replies and watches you get out of bed and towards your suitcase and washroom. Matthew wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was up for hours. He got up hours before because he was warm and needed to turn the AC up higher, but when he realized the situation you were both in, Matthew refused to get up. When else would Matthew be able to hold the person he’s been in love with his entire life who doesn’t love him back?

. . .

“You have the rehearsal tonight, right?” Matthew asks from outside the washroom as you’re doing your makeup. He walks over to the dresser and begins looking at the jewelry you’ve laid across it.

“Yeah, sorry that I can’t bring you. It’s a small thing with just Shelly’s family and bridal party. That means, though, that our big fake dating debut will be tomorrow at the reception,” you say from the washroom. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents at a restaurant around the corner. I know you said that you have a ride to and from where you have to be, but if you need a ride, just call me, okay?”

You smile to yourself from the washroom where Matthew can’t see you. There was something about his concern that made you smile like crazy. “Okay, Matthew. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he begins. “I am your boyfriend after all.” He mutters under his breath the word “fake” with a scowl. He hated being just your fake boyfriend.

You begin to pack your things back into your toiletries bag so as not to leave a mess, and you walk out of the washroom. “How do I look?” you ask when you’re in full view of Matthew. He immediately looks up from where he was staring at your necklace, and his jaw drops.

“Wow, you — I, wow! You’re gorgeous, Yn,” Matthew says with wonder and awe in his eyes. You take your hands and place them on the hem of your skirt and look down. Matthew walks over to you and takes one of your hands and twirls you. You giggle in response, and Matthew catches you with his hands on your waist. “You’re beautiful, Yn.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a step back to admire you.

“I get to be your date tomorrow? Aren’t I the luckiest guy on the planet?”

You giggle again and make your way to the dresser to put on the necklace sitting there. It’s a matching necklace you and Shelly both bought at the age of 18. “Can you help me put it on?”

Matthew’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he soaks you in and your request. He nods and takes the necklace gently from you. You turn around, so your back is to him, and Matthew places the necklace around your neck. He fiddles with the clasp and whispers a soft “there you go” when he’s finished. You turn around and look into his eyes.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you say nervously but hide it with a smile. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, but you suddenly are. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act Matthew just performed for you. “Have fun with your family tonight.”

“Have fun at the rehearsal! Text me when you’re on your way back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you slip on your shoes and make your way towards the door. “Night, Matthew.”

You walk out the door before Matthew could respond. “Night,” he says even though it’s pointless. In his head, Matthew is replaying the vision of you walking out in your blush pink dress and how beautiful you looked. Matthew knows that whoever gets to be the one to call you their girlfriend will be the luckiest person in the world. He only wishes he were the one.

. . .

Matthew walks into the restaurant his family picked, still reeling from how beautiful you looked. It was at that moment when Matthew saw you when he realized he was truly gone. Matthew has dug himself into a hole that he knows he’s never going to get out of. Now that Matthew has experienced you as a date, in his arms in his apartment, at one of his games, kissing you, and sleeping next to you, Matthew knows that no one else will compare to you. He knows that when this ruse is over, he will be heartbroken beyond repair. Is he choosing to do something about it? Nope, not at all because to him, if he can have even a little bit of you, even if it’s under the guise of being fake, then he’ll take it.

He sits at the table his parents and siblings were already at and greets them. It’s not even two seconds after he sits before they all corner him about dating you.

“So, you and Yn, huh?” Brady smirks.

“Don’t start, please,” Matthew warns.

“I’ll start, then,” Taryn prompts. “I can’t believe you finally got Yn to date you after you’ve harbored a crush on her for all these years and hated her.”

“Can we not?” Matthew asks.

“Nope, not happening, we are going to question you about every single detail. Who knows, maybe you two will be the next ones to get married.”

“Okay, Taryn, take a step back,” Keith chuckles.

“I think you should take a step forward,” Brady prompts. “Considering how head over heels Matthew has been, Taryn’s right.”

Matthew just rolls his eyes and sighs. “Can we just order and have a normal meal, please?”

“This conversation isn’t over yet,” Taryn warns, and Matthew just rolls his eyes.

After deciding what to eat and ordering, Taryn was true to her word and began to question Matthew about his dating life. “How did it start? What was your first date like? Did Yn slap you when you first asked her out? I need details, Matthew!”

“Did you ever consider that Yn and I want privacy about our relationship?” Matthew snaps.

“Right, but this is the weirdest pairing ever, so I feel like I should get something out of you,” Taryn defends herself.

“There isn’t much to say. A few months back, Yn called me saying she needed a familiar face because she was homesick, so we met up. We realized that we liked each other and here we are.”

Chantal gives her son a curious look. That was the exact statement and explanation that you gave her when she called you a few weeks after she found out about you and Matthew. Either that was the reality of the situation or you both practiced this many times. Chantal thinks it’s probably the latter because she knows her son. She knows that if you and Matthew were for real, then he’d be telling everyone how much he liked you.

“That’s it? I thought there’d be more! Something more romantic or something,” Taryn pouts, and Matthew just shrugs. He wishes he could have made a more romantic story for how you both started dating because that’s what you deserve, but you wouldn’t have any of it.

“I agree with Taryn,” Brady adds. “Yn, as we know, is a hopeless romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t stepped up your game to match Yn’s romantic side.”

“Look, maybe we do have a romantic relationship, but we just want to keep it private,” Matthew growls.

“Alright, let’s just let the topic go,” Chantal interjects and inserts an out for Matthew. “Will you be sitting with us tomorrow?”

“During the ceremony, probably because Yn is part of the procession and all that. I’m not sure during the reception, though, because I think it’s open seating.”

“Okay, that’s understandable,” Chantal says just as their meals arrive. Matthew lets out a sigh of relief. He was able to keep the story about your ruse straight and evade any questions that could poke holes into the story. He could only wish that what was happening between you two was real.

. . .

Just as Matthew was getting interrogated by his family, your brother and Shelly were on their way to interrogate you. It was after the rehearsal, and everyone in attendance was at the restaurant catching up. Your brother walks over to you and whispers that Shelly wants to talk to you. Being the maid of honor, you figured that she needed help with last-minute wedding preparations. You weren’t expecting an ambush.

Your brother leads you to where Shelly’s sitting, and you expect him to leave. However, when he sits right next to you with Shelly across from you, you know that you’re getting interrogated.

“Don’t you have to go be with your pregnant wife?” you ask your brother pointedly hoping to get out of the conversation.

“No, she wants this information as much as I do,” he retorts.

“You and Tkachuk?” Shelly shrieks. Some of the other guests turn to the commotion but turn away when they see it’s only the bride getting excited about something. “I always knew he had the hots for you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever do anything about it. Wow, I’m impressed it didn’t take more time for it to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew never had the hots for you. This situation was purely platonic and aiding each other's social calendars.

“Oh, come on,” Shelly rolls her eyes. “You have to have known that Matthew was crazy in love with you in high school.”

“And that explains his treatment of me?”

“It’s what insecure guys do when they crush on someone who is way out of their league,” your brother explains. “For what it’s worth, you are way out of Matthew’s league, and the only reason that I haven’t confronted him is that I know him. But still, Matthew? Why him?”

“How did it start? Is he a good kisser? Does he make you smile like crazy? Is he the super romantic boyfriend that you’ve always wanted? Is he good in bed?” Shelby begins but is stopped by your brother making a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t want to think about you and Matthew sleeping together. “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”

“It’s alright,” he grumbles, and Shelly throws you a wink knowing that she’d ask you about this later.

“The other questions are still valid, though.”

“It started because I was homesick. I realized that I missed home and needed a familiar face, so I called Matthew. From there, we realized that there was something there between us,” you explain hoping that your brother and Shelly would accept the story.

“More like you finally realized it,” Shelly corrects. You were about to contradict her words, but wouldn’t that break the facade you and Matthew have built? “What about the rest of the stuff?”

You shrug.

“That’s it? There’s nothing else you can say about it?”

“I like keeping my relationship private,” you say softly hoping it came across as confident despite the guilt you felt lying to your brother and best friend.

“Sure, and did this happen before you and I talked about bringing a date to the wedding?” Shelly questions further. She knows that if you liked someone and were crazy about them, then you’d be talking about this person constantly. She isn’t buying the story.

“We started talking before, but we made our relationship official shortly after your call,” you lie, again. You make a mental note to tell Matthew this so that when Shelly did interrogate him, he’d have that information.

“But you insisted you didn’t have anyone to bring as a date,” Shelly points out.

“You also called me if any of my friends would want to bring you,” your brother points out smugly. You glare at him and kick him under the table.

“I wasn’t sure if bringing Matthew would be like cheating because I knew he was invited to the wedding,” you quickly retorted. Would that be enough to have them lay off you?

“Sure, sure,” Shelly begins. “Look, if your relationship is of convenience, you know, for pleasure, you can say that.”

What? “What?” you and your brother speak at the same time. She wasn’t interrogating you because she thought you and Matthew were faking. She thought you and Matthew had a friends-with-benefits relationship! Somehow, that calms your nerves and helps you relax.

“Oh, so it’s a real relationship,” Shelly says with a grin. “I was wrong?”

“Yes, it’s a real relationship,” you laugh.

“I mean, if it were a pleasure-seeking based relationship, then I’d also be okay with that because you do need to make yourself happy,” Shelly winks.

“Okay, I’m done here,” your brother immediately gets up and walks over to his wife. You and Shelly both giggle.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I have to get back to bride duties. I know that I was shocked when you told me you were dating Tkachuk earlier and didn’t react the way you wanted me to, but I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. He treated you like crap when you were in high school, and I don’t want him to go back to that version of himself. You seem happy, though, so ignore me.”

Shelly kisses your forehead and finds her fiance. You knew you weren’t going to get hurt because what you were both doing was merely for show. You both weren’t actually dating, so there were no feelings to be hurt, but one thing stuck out to you. Matthew liked you in high school? You weren’t sure why that unsettled you so much, but it did. Why would he have treated you like crap if he liked you? Would you and Matthew hurt each other? What happens when you both end this ruse? You know you’ll miss the way Matthew could always put a smile on your face and bring out giggle after giggle from you. You’d miss the way his smile or hand in yours would make your heart burst and make you warm inside and out. Were you on the path to getting hurt?

. . .

As Keith and Brady are arguing about the bill, Matthew and Chantal step outside to wait for them, and Taryn is in the washroom.

“So, you and Yn?” Chantal begins.

“Mom,” Matthew groans.

“I find it funny that the story that you told tonight to us is exactly what Yn told me a few weeks ago.”

“It’s what happened, so it makes sense that Yn told you the same thing,” Matthew lies.

“Yeah, but it was the exact same story, Matthew.”

Matthew looks at his mother, and he knows that she’s read through fabrication. “We both needed dates for things, so we thought we’d pretend to date to make it easier on both of us,” Matthew mumbles.

Chantal looks at her son and sees the forlorn expression on his face. “But you like her.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, mom,” Matthew says sadly as if he finally realized the hopelessness of the situation.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

“Because, mom, it’s like Taryn was saying earlier and why it shocks you so much. I treated Yn like crap when we were growing up, and I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“But you love her.”

“I never hated her; I just didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Chantal admits. Her heart breaks as she watches her son run his hands through his hair sadly as he admits to feelings. “I haven’t seen you both around each other, but who knows, maybe Yn does feel the same way.”

“No, I know for a fact she doesn’t. It’s okay, at least I have this,” Matthew says. Keith and Brady walk out of the restaurant at that moment with Taryn close on their heels. Keith slaps Matthew’s back and asks what Matthew was talking about. Matthew shrugs it off with a curt “nothing.” Matthew didn’t want the rest of his family to know about the reality of his dating life. He also knows that you’d rather not let that information come out.

“On Sunday, you and Yn should come over for dinner,” Chantal suggests. “Like tradition.”

“I’ll ask Yn,” Matthew answers.

“It’s not a request, Matthew,” Chantal says and walks with her husband. Well, then you and Matthew are going to dinner at the Tkachuk’s on Sunday.

. . .

The next morning after the rehearsal, you had to force yourself to pull yourself out of Matthew’s embrace. You’ve both woken up in the same entanglement as the morning before, but this time, you liked it. You enjoyed the warmth and comfort his hold produced. You groan as you get out of bed and walk to the washroom in the cold away from Matthew. You had to be up early to get things ready for the makeup artist, hairdresser, and photographer. You briefly washed your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and your “I Do Crew” t-shirt that was made for you. You grab your dress, shoes, and jewelry before heading over closer to the bed to grab your phone and purse. You place everything down and kiss Matthew on the forehead. You smiled at how peaceful and cute he looked as he was still sleeping.

If only it were real.

. . .

When Matthew’s alarm went off a few hours later, he moved closer to your pillow hoping to hold you for a little bit longer. When his head hits your cold pillow, Matthew’s chipper mood deflates when he realizes you’re not gone. He knows that you had to leave early for wedding preparations, but it still hurts knowing that you weren’t there to wake up next to him. In the past few days, Matthew has gotten used to waking up next to you. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when you both return to your normal lives and he can no longer wake up next to you.

. . .

“Well, you look nice, Matthew,” Chantal says as Matthew sits in the row next to his family. Matthew straightens his tie. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervousness. Chantal observes her son from the corner of her eye and smiles at his actions.

“Have you seen Yn yet today?” Chantal leans over and asks. Matthew shakes his head no; he was nervous to see you. Matthew got a glimpse of your bridesmaid’s dress, and he knows you’re going to be just as beautiful, if not more, than the night of the rehearsal.

Matthew and his family continue to chat quietly, and everyone in the crowd abruptly ends their conversations as Shelly’s groom heads to the front of the aisle. In a matter of seconds, the orchestra begins to play the “Wedding March”, and everyone turns their heads to the aisle awaiting the procession. The groomsmen process down the aisle and take their places. Following the groomsmen are the bridesmaids. As each woman processes down the aisle and takes their places, Matthew is confused when he doesn’t see you among them. Matthew assumes, though, that because you’re the maid of honor, you have something special to do.

Matthew’s suspicions are confirmed when you walk down the aisle in your blush, floor-length, off-the-shoulder dress with your right hand holding the hand of the flower girl and your left hand holding a bouquet. As you walk down the aisle, Matthew is entranced by you. He stops breathing and blinking as he watches you. He watches as you lead the flower girl to her place and stand behind her. When everyone’s attention is turned to Shelly and her father walking down the aisle, Matthew’s attention is focused on you. He knew you were beautiful, but you were beautiful. There isn’t any difference between the two words, Matthew knows, but the latter word somehow means more. Matthew keeps telling himself it’s the dress, but he knows it’s not just the dress. It’s the person wearing the dress. It’s the way your face glowed from happiness at the new couple and the makeup you had on. It was the way your hair flowed impeccably in the breeze. It’s the way you looked amazing in that dress that had Matthew frozen. You were the most beautiful person Matthew has ever seen, and he didn’t want to look away.

When you catch Matthew’s eye, he swears he died and came back to life. You smile softly at him, but he doesn’t do anything. He just stands there staring at you as the officiant continues to talk. Chantal notices you trying to stifle a giggle and turns to her son to see if he had anything to do with it. When she sees Matthew just staring at you, she elbows him.

“Smile at her,” Chantal directs. That, it seemed, was what finally took Matthew out of his trance. He blinks and takes a deep breath right before sending you his signature smile. You shake your head playfully when you notice that Chantal had to remind him to smile and pay attention. You turn your attention back to the ceremony happening right in front of you as the officiant directs everyone to sit. You also try to ignore the hole it feels like Matthew (and the rest of the Tkachuks) were burning into the back of your head.

Because you were the maid of honor, you were one of the official witnesses and had to stand behind the bride. Through it all, Matthew was watching you. He was captivated by you, enamored by you. You met his eye a few times and had to force yourself not to laugh as a blush overcame his face and he turned away. Taryn, thinking that the next wedding she’d be attending was between you and Matthew, was watching the interactions between you two. The first time she watched you looked constipated as you tried to hide a giggle, she knew Matthew was the reason. After the second time, Taryn made sure to keep an eye on Matthew, too, so he could watch his reaction. Normally, in relationships, Matthew was confident, cocky, and full of himself. He was always the one to make the person he was dating speechless, shy, and look away bashfully. This time, though, you were the one in control, overtaking Matthew’s usual position. This time, Matthew was the one who was smiling bashfully and looking away whenever you’d meet his eye.

Taryn noticed that you stopped turning your attention to Matthew when the vows began to focus on the bride and groom. That doesn’t mean, though, that Matthew was paying attention to the happy couple. He was still watching you.

“Hey, Matthew,” Taryn leans over her mother and whispers.

That seems to take Matthew out of his trance as he rolls his eyes at his sister's words. “What?”

“Stop staring at your girlfriend. You’re trying to get her to marry you, not run away from you.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Matthew doesn’t say anything except to stare ahead. This time, though, he doesn’t place his eyes on you. No, he places his eyes on the couple hoping to get his family off his case. He didn’t want to face the reality of the situation that Matthew wasn’t trying to get you to marry him despite him knowing you were the one. He hoped to ignore the true reason why Matthew was here as your date and not as a family friend. During the rest of the ceremony, Matthew doesn’t look at you once. He opts to look at the couple, the officiant, or the beauty of the outdoor venue. He hopes that by not looking at you, Matthew can escape the reality that he’s in love with you and you, it seems, are not.

When the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, you and the rest of the wedding party are getting ready to take photos during the Cocktail Hour. You try to make your way to find Matthew and see him because you missed him, but every time it seemed you had a chance, he was busy or was avoiding you.

Eventually, the Cocktail Hour was over and everyone was heading into the location of the reception. After you’ve made your rounds, you look around to see where Matthew was or your brother. You weren’t sure who you were going to sit with, but you were hoping to sit next to Matthew, though. You weren’t sure why Matthew was in a sour mood, but you knew you caused it. You only hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” Brady says as he walks up to you. He is holding a fresh drink in his hand, so you assume he was coming from the bar.

“Thank you,” you murmur, wondering if Matthew was around, too.

“Matthew, don’t you think so, too?” Brady says, and you turn your head to where Brady was directing his question to.

“Hi,” you whisper when your eyes lock with Matthew’s. You see anger in his eyes and are suddenly worried that Matthew is truly upset at you. However, Matthew’s face softens when you send him a soft smile, and the anger leaves his face.

“Are you sitting with us?” Brady asks.

“Of course, she’s sitting with us,” Matthew says and walks over to and wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

You smile and let Matthew lead you to where his family is sitting. Matthew pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and he pushes it in for you. Matthew takes the seat next to you, and you��re suspicious that it was Brady’s when he grumbled about sitting in the chair next to you. Immediately upon sitting, Matthew places his hand on your thigh and scoots his chair closer to yours.

As the night carried on, Matthew never took his hand off your thigh, and he constantly whispered in your ear asking if you were okay. If you needed a refill on a drink, Matthew always went to the bar to get you a refill and insisted you shouldn’t have to get up. He always returned by placing the drink on the table and placing a kiss on your forehead.

When he returned with your third or fourth refill of the night, you smiled at him as he sat down and told him, “You know, I’m starting not to hate you anymore.”

Matthew looks at you sadly at your words. You still had animosity towards him? He thought he’s been working so hard to change your opinion of him, but it seems it's just barely working. You notice the strain and sadness in Matthew’s pout and wonder if you did something wrong. You place your hand on his thigh and look into his eyes. The minute your hand touched his thigh, Matthew was fine. It didn’t matter what you said because he knows he cares about you, and he knows that deep down, you care for him, too, despite your words.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m sitting next to the prettiest person in the world; why wouldn’t I be okay?”

You smile at Matthew’s words and rest your head on his shoulder. What were you going to do when you and Matthew no longer could be like this? You knew you were going to miss it.

. . .

As the reception is nearing the final hours, everyone’s moods have turned more casual and laid back, including you and Matthew. Both of your chairs were right up against each other with you leaning heavily against Matthew with your head resting on his chest. His hand was wrapped around your shoulders and was rubbing small patterns on your shoulder. You and Matthew are talking to Brady and Taryn when a slow song, one of your favorites, begins to play. You perk up slightly, wondering if you should ask Matthew to dance with you.

“Hey, Yn, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” Brady instigates.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” you reply, and Matthew looks down at you softly.

“Do you want to dance, Yn?” Matthew asks. You nod and slowly pull away so he can lead you to the dance floor. You and Matthew position yourselves so that your hands are resting just below his neck with his resting on your mid-back. You both sway to the song, and you’re both entranced with each other’s eyes. As the song continues, Matthew’s hands slowly rise up to the bare skin of your upper back. He begins to stroke soft patterns on your skin, and it sends chills up your spine. You pull yourself closer to Matthew to try to use his warmth to evade the chills. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

As the song comes to an end, Matthew licks his lips and leans his head towards yours. He pulls his head back slightly. Was this appropriate? He didn’t have the chance to further contemplate kissing you because you pulled away and led him back to the table. His one true regret that evening is that he didn’t kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you badly, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you.

He knows he’s dug himself into a hole he will never get out of.

. . .

“What are you doing today?” Matthew asks as you’re getting ready for the day. Based on his tone, you know something’s up, and you have to agree with whatever it is.

“Why?” you ask nervously.

“Would you want to go to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner? Like pastimes?”

You turn to face Matthew and smirk at him. “I feel like I don’t have a choice here.”

“My mom said that I had to bring you, no negotiations, so yeah, you have no choice.”

You laugh. “Okay, I can go to your parents’ for Sunday dinner, but I know my parents and brother won’t be there. They have plans tonight.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Matthew asks knowing he wants to spend the day with you.

“I’m going to visit some friends from high school; what are you doing?”

“Just hanging around. Nothing much.”

“Okay then, why don’t I meet you back here, and then we can head over to your parents’ house?”

“Perfect,” Matthew says and turns away from you to go shower. On his face, he’s wearing a wide smile. He only hoped that you were just as excited as he was.

. . .

Unlike when you were growing up, you didn’t stay outside with the boys while Chantal and Keith got dinner together. This time, you and Taryn were in the kitchen helping Chantal cook while Brady and Matthew were out at the grill helping Keith. Now and then, you’d look out the backyard window and notice Matthew. Sometimes, he’d meet your eye and wink at you, and your face would grow warm. Or, sometimes, he wouldn’t be looking at you, but you saw him turn his head away as if he was just looking at you. Sometimes, he didn’t notice you looking at all, and you loved watching him interact with his dad and brother.

“He seems lighter when he’s around you,” Chantal comments after noticing you and Matthew staring at each other for the gazillionth time that afternoon.

“How so?” you ask.

“He’s nice,” Taryn says blatantly.

“Taryn,” Chantal scolds, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m not wrong,” she defends.

Chantal rolls her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, you guys are good for each other. It’s about time you both realized the dynamic you both have after years of animosity between you two.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll finally be sisters,” Taryn jokes, hinting at the possibility of marriage. The smile on your face fades as you remember that you and Matthew aren’t dating. The smile fades knowing that you and Matthew wouldn’t ever get married, and when this ruse was over, many more people would get hurt than you both anticipated.

“Anyways, let’s go eat, yeah?” Chantal approaches. “Taryn, you put the salad on the plate and tell the boys we’re ready. Yn, you can help me scoop the other sides, okay?”

You were about to take the potato salad out to the table, but Chantal grabs your shoulder lightly and signals you to hold back for a moment.

“Just know, Matthew cares deeply for you,” she advises. “At the end of the day, he’s crazy about you; don’t forget that.”

You don’t have the words to say anything in response, so you just nod. Chantal seems to think you fully understand her words, so she walks out to the backyard. You don’t. What could she be talking about? Did she know that you and Matthew weren’t dating? You thought you both put up a pretty good act.

Opting to try to enjoy the evening, you place your worries to the back of your head and walk out to the patio. Just as you’re placing the potato salad on the table, Brady is placing the grilled corn on the table, too. Taryn’s already taken her usual seat, and because it’s a smaller crowd, Chantal has taken the seat where your brother would normally sit. Following tradition, you sit next to Taryn, and Brady takes the seat next to you. Keith has taken his seat and says that Matthew has gotten to grab a refill of drinks for you and him.

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls to his brother from behind you. You perk your head up and turn to see Matthew glaring at his brother.

“What? No! Go sit somewhere else. I’m already sitting here,” Brady says in retaliation and annoyance. He shakes his head and mutters a comment to you asking how you put up with him. You stifle a giggle knowing that the look in Matthew’s eyes was of determination, and the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

“Brady, I said, move,” Matthew says more forcefully.

“Why can’t you sit somewhere else? You never sit here.”

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls again.

“Why don’t you sit here, Matthew?” Taryn asks, trying to diffuse the situation. It was clear that Matthew wanted to sit next to you.

“No, I want Brady to move.”

“I’m not going to,” Brady is firm in his words. “Seriously, Yn, how do you deal with him sometimes?”

You don’t say anything, but Matthew does and is still incessant on Brady moving. “Brady, move and sit somewhere else. I want to sit next to my girlfriend.”

Brady stands up and stares at his brother. Looking at Matthew’s face, Brady knows that Matthew won’t give up on his endeavor, so Brady sighs and proceeds to get up. Brady goes and sits in his old normal seat, and Matthew sits next to you. He places a glass of water on the table for himself (he already had one beer but was driving, so he had to be safe) and lemonade for you. “Thank you, Brady,” Matthew says softly once he’s situated.

Brady grumbles in reply and mutters about how annoying Matthew was. You place your hand on Matthew’s thigh and lean over to whisper in his ear, “You didn’t have to force Brady to move, you know. It’s fine if we don’t sit next to each other.”

“It’s not fine,” Matthew whispers into your ear. “I wanted to sit next to my girlfriend, so I was going to sit next to my girlfriend.”

You open your mouth to say how it was all a ruse but decide against it.

“Shall we eat?” After observing her two sons spar over a seat and Matthew melt as he whispers into your ear, Chantal finally says.

Conversation, as everyone eats, varies from the wedding from the previous night to Taryn going to college to the upcoming season to your job. You loved how normal it was and how it was like before. It felt like before you and Matthew turned ten started hating each other. It was like when you were both young and the idea of marrying each other was still a thing. It was the way life was supposed to be had Matthew not started hating you at the age of ten. As you were both eating, Matthew always had a hand on you. Whether it was on your thigh or around your shoulder, Matthew was always touching you, and his family noticed completely.

“You know, when Matthew told us you were both dating, I was truly shocked. I was surprised you would ever go for him, Yn, considering you are way out of his league,” Brady says out of nowhere and tries to get back at his brother.

“Brady,” Keith warns.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Taryn points out, not realizing the true intentions of Brady's words. “As much as I love you, Matthew, Yn is completely out of your league.”

You notice Matthew stiffening up next to you, and you place your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down.

“I’m just surprised you even gave him a chance considering Matthew hated you for like half your life.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Taryn looks up at her mother and shrugs in confusion.

“I never hated, Yn,” Matthew defends. “I’m not sure where you guys are getting that from.”

“How about the fact that — ow!” Brady is stopped as Chantal kicks him under the table. An awkward silence fills the table as everyone finishes up their meals. What did Matthew mean when he said he never hated you? His actions definitely showed it. Did he still hate you? All these questions swirled in your head as Taryn volunteers you and her for clearing the table. You move in autopilot as you clear the table still trying to figure out the meaning of Matthew’s words.

“I’m sorry for my comments out there,” Taryn apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say anything hurtful.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell her with a smile. “I wasn’t offended, but I think Matthew could use an apology more than me.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s got thick skin, and it’s not like I said anything he didn’t know.”

“Mmm,” you say, not sure how to respond.

“I’ve never seen Matthew so protective over someone before. Is possessive the right word? I don’t know, but I don’t think he’s ever been like that. If he would challenge Brady to something and wouldn’t immediately get his way, then he’d just drop the subject or physically fight Brady. He didn’t do either of those things. There’s something about you, Yn, that brings out a different side to Matthew,” Taryn points out as she’s rinsing the dishes, and you place them in the dishwasher.

“Interesting,” you say, again, not sure how to respond

“It’s a good thing. You’re both good for each other.”

. . .

You and Matthew say goodbye to Chantal, Keith, Brady, and Taryn two hours later and head back to the hotel you were staying at. Chantal couldn’t understand why you guys didn’t just stay with them before you flew back to Calgary the next morning. You weren’t sure how to explain that you’re not dating her son, and you needed some time to unwind and not have to be Matthew’s pretend girlfriend for extended periods of time.

As you’re driving to the hotel, you and Matthew sit in silence. Now and then, Matthew would shift in his seat in discomfort. You could tell he was still upset from Brady’s and Taryn’s comments. You reach your hand across the center console and place it on his thigh. You hear Matthew’s breath halt at the touch, and you’re confused at the sound.

“Matthew, are you okay?” you ask softly. “Don’t take Brady’s and Taryn’s words too seriously.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Matthew, don’t,” you interrupt as he stops at a red light. He turns to you, and his heart melts at how the lights on the street illuminate your face. He nods at your words, and suddenly, he wasn’t sad or frustrated anymore. The drive continues in silence, but your hand doesn’t leave his thigh. You have one lingering thought, though. “Matthew?”

“Mmm?” he asks.

“What did you mean when you said earlier that you didn’t hate me?”

“I didn’t realize there was anything to say. I don’t hate you,” Matthew says blatantly.

“Yeah, but you did hate me.”

Matthew laughs sourly. “Why do you think that even though I’ve told you that I didn’t hate you?”

“You were such a pest to me after we turned ten.”

“That didn’t mean I hated you, Yn.”

“Then why were you such a pest?” you ask.

“Because I had a giant crush on you when we were ten.”

“You had a what?” you asked, shocked, as Matthew drives into a parking space.

“A crush when we were ten,” Matthew answers and walks out of the car. He walks over to your side and opens the door for you. You step out of the car still reeling for his confession. “Don’t worry, Yn, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so don’t worry.”

“Good,” you reply quietly. You aren’t sure why you are so upset at Matthew’s words, but you are. Did you have a crush on Matthew, now?

. . .

You’re standing in front of the mirror placing the final touches on your makeup and hair as you get ready to fly back to Calgary. You vaguely notice Matthew sitting in the chair behind you. You figured he was looking at his phone or watching the TV that was on. You lift your eyes to glance at the boy in question. Just as your eyes meet his face, Matthew looks up, and his eyes land right on yours. You stop moving, too entranced in his gaze. Matthew sends you a soft smile, and you mirror his smile. He sends you a wink, and your eyes instantly dart away from him. You continue getting ready, and you try to ignore the heat that rushed to your face and the rapid beating of your heart.

. . .

“I brought pizza and beer, is that good?” you say as you walk into Matthew’s kitchen. It was his first night back in Calgary since you said goodbye at the airport after the wedding, and he wanted to spend the night with you.

“That’s perfect,” he says and takes everything out of your hands.

You take your shoes off and walk further into this apartment. “Oh, looks like you cleaned.”

Matthew looks around the apartment and scratches the back of his neck. He turns to you, and you see a slight blush lining his cheeks. “Yeah, well, no one likes to live in a pigsty.”

You raise your eyebrow at his words. “What version of Matthew is this? The high school version of Matthew had the most disgusting bedroom ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at you. You swat at it and begin to giggle. Matthew takes a piece of pizza and places it on a plate for you and opens a bottle of beer for you. You take it out of his hands with a soft “thank you” and walk over to his kitchen table. He places his plate and beer on the table and places his hands on your hips; your breath catches in your throat at his touch, and Matthew swears his heart started to beat a hundred times faster at the sound. He guides you towards the couch. “We’re sitting on the couch to eat.”

“But, Matthew,” you say after regaining your voice. You watch him grab his beer and plate from the table where he placed it and sits next to you.

“Nope, we’re not at Yn’s house. We’re at Matthew’s house, so we eat on the couch when we’re having a movie night.”

“Matthew,” you begin again.

He shakes his head as he takes a sip. “Don’t. I can’t eat this once training camp and the season starts, so let’s just enjoy it, okay?”

You nod and take a bite out of your pizza. Why did your breath hitch out of your throat when Matthew touched you? He’s touched you before, but why was it different this time?

. . .

“How about these?” Matthew asks as he holds a bag of chips in front of your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t like that flavor, and I already bought a bag of chips.”

“Maybe you should buy them for me, this lovely person who you forced to go grocery shopping with you.”

“That is not what happened, Matthew, and you know that,” your point out.

Matthew walks over to you and entraps you from where you’re standing at your shopping cart. He places his hands on the bar on your sides so you can’t move. He leans his head towards your ear and whispers, “Then tell me what happened.”

“You know what happened,” you murmur, trying to hide the fact that Matthew’s actions and words were sending chills down your spine.

“But I want you to tell me,” he whispers again into your ear.

“You showed up at my apartment just as I was about to leave,” you swallow before continuing, “and you insisted on coming with me, and here we are.”

“I don’t recall that being how it happened,” Matthew says against your neck, and the vibrations warm your entire body. You figure if Matthew was going to mess with you in the middle of the snack aisle at the grocery store, you might as well do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face closer to yours. Your lips are micrometers from his, and you can tell that Matthew is nervous.

“That’s exactly how I remember it happening,” you say against his lips and with each word you said, your lips touching Matthew’s. Out of instinct and preparation for a kiss, Matthew places his hands on your waist, and you smirk, knowing you have him right where you want him. You run your hands up through his hair, and Matthew’s hold on you becomes limp. You lean closer, if possible, to him, and Matthew thinks you’re going to kiss him. Just when you would’ve leaned forward and kiss Matthew, you pull back and escape from where Matthew has you entrapped. You’re standing a few feet away from him, and you notice Matthew still in his trance. “You coming?”

That seems to take him out of his trance, and he nods and pushes the shopping cart to follow you. Matthew isn’t sure what happened, but he knows that whatever did just happen sent Matthew to heaven.

. . .

“What are you wearing?” Taryn asks you when you sit down next to her.

“Oh, this old thing?” you say, pretending to be oblivious.

“Matthew’s going to hate it considering you’re his girlfriend, who the Flames are playing, and what you’re not wearing.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“You are such a pest like Matthew. No wonder you guys are so good to each other,” Taryn rolls her eyes.

“You’re lucky we won or you’d have hell brought down upon you,” Matthew says when you’re standing outside the locker room after the game.

“I didn’t know you knew the devil personally,” you joke.

“Why did you have to wear Brady’s jersey, Yn? The day that I play the Sens, you are wearing the wrong brother’s jersey.”

You shrug but have a knowing smirk on your face. “I felt like it.”

Matthew groans when he sees Brady walking over to you and him. “Nice jersey,” Brady smirks.

“Thank you. Too bad you guys lost.”

“Seriously?” Matthew’s mouth’s agape.

“Oh shut up, you know I cheered for you when you scored,” you say and link arms with Brady as you head towards Chantal and Keith. “It worked. I pissed him off,” you whisper to Brady.

“You guys are so weird,” Brady chuckles. Matthew just stands behind you and Brady and is trying to figure out what just happened and how he’s going to get back at you.

. . .

When you showed up to the Senators-Flames game wearing Brady’s jersey, Matthew knew he had to think of a way to get back at you. After a week-long road trip and coming home at 2 am, Matthew wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He also wanted nothing more in the world to see you and to get back at you. When he got in his car to drive home, Matthew realized he had the perfect plan to get back at you. He knows that something you value deeply is your sleep, so because you messed with something important to Matthew, he was going to mess with something important to you.

Matthew drives to your apartment from the airport and parks in the parking spot next to your car. He isn’t sure why he thought you didn’t have a car and why you don’t drive it to work, but here your car is. He walks into the lobby of your building and waves to the nightguard working the night shift. He takes the elevator up to your floor and walks up to your door. He takes a deep breath and begins to aggressively ring your doorbell. He hopes that you wake up and none of your neighbors do.

The ringing continues for twenty seconds before you realize it’s not your alarm. You sit up for a few moments when you realize that it’s someone at the door. When the ringing doesn’t stop, you get worried that something’s wrong. You rush over to the door and open it. “Is everything okay?” you blurt out before noticing who’s the one ringing your doorbell.

“No, I have a very important message for you,” Matthew says with a smirk grazing his face.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” you’re worried now. You’re still barely awake, and if you were, you probably would have noticed the smirk on Matthew’s face.

“It’s an important message. Ready for it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me!”

“Hi.”

“Hi? That’s it? Matthew, you rang my door like a lunatic and made me worry that something was seriously wrong. What’s wrong with you?”

“You wore Brady’s jersey to my hockey game.”

“So you decide to pull this shit?” you’re angry now, and Matthew realizes he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry. I also wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pull him into your apartment. “Then call me instead of halfway giving me a heart attack.”

Matthew nods and follows you into your apartment. He puts his bag down by the door and takes his shoes off.

“I’m going back to sleep, but you can change and shower in my washroom and join me when you’re ready. I’m not staying awake; I’m too tired.”

Matthew is shocked that you’re doing this. Matthew woke you at 2 in the morning just because and you’re opening your home for him despite it. Matthew will never take your friendship for granted ever again.

. . .

“Matthew, are we still fake dating?” you ask out of nowhere. It’s been months since the wedding, and you weren’t sure if you and Matthew still had that title. Recently, you both had been hanging out together, but it didn’t seem like “dating”. It was “friend” hangouts, and you were both disappointed and happy with it.

“Why do you ask?” Matthew asks. He doesn’t want to fake date you anymore; he wants to real date you, but he isn’t sure if you want that, too.

“Because,” you hesitate.

“Because, why?”

“I went out with some friends the other night and this guy was hitting on me, and I turned him down because I didn’t know if we were still under the ruse of dating.”

“Oh,” Matthew says dejectedly. “Don’t worry, if you see him, or anyone else, who’s hitting on you, then you can say yes. We, as of this moment, are just friends and no longer fake dating.”

You nod. “What do we tell people? Like, Shelly or your family?”

Matthew shrugs. “We realized we were better off friends. We went from the extreme of not being able to be around each other to the extreme of always being around each other and realized it doesn’t work.”

“Okay,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were so upset with Matthew’s response.

After the conversation, you head home about an hour later with your head still reeling from Matthew’s words. Just friends, he said, but you didn’t want that, did you? You wanted Matthew in every way that you could. You wanted him next to you when you woke up and when you fell asleep. You wanted good morning kisses, good night kisses, and just kisses in between that. You wanted Matthew because you liked him. You wanted Matthew because, in the months of fake dating, you fell for him. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, the one boy you never thought you’d fall for, and the one boy who doesn’t want you like that.

. . .

You went out with Matthew and the team to celebrate another win. This time, you wore Matthew’s jersey, and you swore Matthew’s smile grew wider when he saw you in it. The celebration at the bar thus far has been fun. You weren’t sure if the team knows you and Matthew “broke up”, but it doesn’t matter because Matthew was still being touchy with you, and you hoped that you were hiding your feelings for Matthew well.

“I’m going to go get some refills for us, okay? Same drink for you?” Matthew whispers into your ear. You visibly shiver at his action, and you know Matthew noticed. You nod, not trusting your words. To try to ignore how you’re feeling, you immerse yourself in conversation with the group. It works, you think, but when you look up and see the back of Matthew’s head, your heart begins to beat rapidly. You needed to figure out how to get your emotions in check if you’re going to continue to be hanging out as friends with Matthew.

“So, you and Matthew have been going strong, huh?” Annica says when she notices you staring at Matthew. You snap your attention back to the woman. Matthew must not have told the team that you and he “broke up”. You guess that would be a weird conversation to have. You doubted Matthew said something along the lines of, “Yes, we broke up, but I’m going to keep bringing Yn around. Why? Well, we were never really dating, and now we are just friends. Yeah, it’s weird, but just go with it.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” you reply, hoping that Annica didn’t read too much into your words.

“I can tell he’s crazy about you and that he —,” Annica is interrupted by Elias bringing her another glass of wine and conversation changes. You look back at Matthew to try to figure out the meaning of Annica’s words. Just as your eyes land on Matthew’s head, he turns around, as if sensing your gaze, and meets your eyes. He smiles at you, and you instantly feel the tears falling from your eyes. You try to blink them away, but when Matthew begins to rush over to you, you know that he noticed. You excuse yourself from the group and rush out of the bar.

“Yn, yn,” Matthew calls out to you. He catches up to you with his long strides and places his hand gently on your shoulder. You turn to face him and feverishly wipe the tears away. “Yn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“I didn’t know we cry over nothing now, but thanks for letting me know,” Matthew jokes, but it doesn’t do anything to make you feel better. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be your friend anymore; it just hurts too much to be your friend when I want more,” you blurt out and walk away. Matthew is too stunned at your words to follow after you. You want more? Since when? Matthew doesn’t come to his senses to chase after you until you’re getting into your car to drive home. What does he do now?

. . .

“Yn, yn, yn, I know you’re in there,” Matthew yells as he aggressively knocks on your apartment door the next day. “Yn, please. I just want to talk to you.

You angrily stalk to the door and open it. “What, Matthew? Maybe you should have taken a hint when I didn’t open the door the first eighteen times you knocked on it.”

“Yeah, well, we need to talk, so it doesn’t matter if I was knocking on your door for hours, I’m going to talk to you.”

“Matthew, there’s nothing to say,” you tell him through gritted teeth hoping not to let it show how much you wanted to cry at that moment.

“Like hell, there’s nothing to talk about,” Matthew aggressively replies as he runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t just say that and leave, you know. You’ve had me going crazy, Yn!”

“Well, it’s not like you feel the same way or want the same thing,” you mumble, looking at the ground.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted this since I was ten!” Matthew replies incredulously.

“But you told me you didn’t like me anymore!”

“That’s because I thought you didn't like me like that.”

“Well, I do like you like that, Matthew.”

He takes a step closer to you and looks into your eyes. “That entire time we were fake dating? I was imagining it was real. I was doing everything in my power to make it real so that I could have that experience of being with you because I thought I’d never had a chance with you. Like my parents said, you are completely out of my league, so I was extremely honored that you ever wanted to fake date me.”

“I don’t want to fake date you.”

“I don’t want to fake date you, either,” Matthew chuckles.

“Oh, good,” you reply and look down at your feet. “I want to be your real girlfriend.”

Matthew laughs at your words. “That’s what not wanting to fake date means.”

“Oh, right,” you giggle at yourself.

“So, if I put my hands on your waist and kiss you, is that okay?”

“That’s more than okay, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile and place your hands on his face to bring him closer to you. Matthew smiles at your words and leans his head towards yours. You both softly placed your lips on each other before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss you both shared, but it was the first time you kissed each other with your feelings on display. You both deepen the kiss, and Matthew pulls you into him. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you giggle at the small moan that leaves him. His moan and your giggle cause you both to pull back. Matthew gives you a pointed look.

“Great, our first kiss ends like that.”

You giggle again. “It’s not our first kiss, Matthew.”

“Still,” he pouts.

“Don’t worry,” you tease. “There will be many, many kisses in our future.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Matthew says with a grin and pulls you in for another kiss.

The get-together wasn’t perfect or what anyone expected, but it was your story, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagines #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey fanficition #hockey imagine #calgary flames x reader #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames fic #claudia writes

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btssaysstudy · 3 years ago

Text

Salvage - 1 || jjk/kth.

Summary: After your confession, it's safe to say that there was nothing left to salvage between you and Jungkook. However, things start to change when a new hurdler joins the team. Genre: college!au, track!jungkook, track!taehyung, track!reader, angst & fluff Pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader Warning(s) : unrequited love, alcohol (drinking) mentioned, swearing Chapter Word Count: 3.7k a/n: My first mini series! Let me know what you guys think and the ending depends on your feedback :) taglist: do let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist

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“Wake me up when you’re done.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Your body got up from your seat, but your gaze still glued on your laptop screen and hands on your keyboard. Your roommate groaned, marching her way to pull your hands away from the laptop.

“Yn, it’s a Friday night. Let’s go! Namjoon’s waiting for us downstairs.”

“Yea but,” You sighed, your eyes on your work, “I still have quite a lot of things to do. Maybe I’ll skip this party—“

“Like how you missed Hoseok’s birthday party? I’m sure he’s going to hunt you down later. You still have the weekends to complete your work and you’re already dressed up.”

You knew your roommate was right. You had agreed to go for this party since it was one of Namjoon’s close friends’ birthday. Though you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you were close to Namjoon and his girlfriend, who also happened to be your roommate - Miya.

“Okay, okay.” You quickly saved your work and turned your laptop off. “Let’s go.”

Miya squealed in excitement, linking her arm around yours as she pulled you towards the door. The two of you went down to meet Namjoon who had been patiently waiting for you to get down.

“Sorry for wait.” You gave an apologetic smile. “No worries! We’re still early. Good to miss the first few awkward minutes of the party.” He chuckled as he opened the car door to let you both in.

Miya truly hit jackpot with Namjoon. He was the whole package - athletic, smart and a gentleman. Miya was a great catch herself and you were thankful that she was your roommate.

Miya had been your roommate since freshmen year and ever since, you both always wanted to dorm together. Miya was very caring and gentle yet blunt at the same time. You both were awkward beings when you first met, and you were worried how dorm life would be with a stranger.

Thankfully, Miya, being the straightforward person, immediately went out with setting the ground rules together and suggested for a roommate date to get to know each other.

The rest was practically history.

Miya had been there for many of your significant memories in college - the good and the bad.

She was also there when you met Jungkook.

“Do you have any clubs in mind?”

“Actually, I do. I’m planning to sign up for track.”

Miya gasped and giggled in excitement, “No way, I want to join track too!”

“That’s cool! Shall we head over then?”

The two of you made your way to the track and field booth, sharing about what events you partake in. Miya was a hurdler while you weren’t. Nonetheless, it was pretty amazing to you two that you were both signing up for the track team.

“Hey freshies! Here to sign up?”

The two of you converse with the seniors to learn more about the try-outs and practice sessions.

“Psst,” Miya nudged you as you filled up the sign-up form, “On your left. Isn’t he cute?”

Your gaze turned to see a tall, buff boy, who seemed to be signing up for track as well. “He’s pretty cute.”

“I’m going to say hi. Wait for me.” Miya winked at you before approaching the boy - little did she know at that time that he was going to be her boyfriend.

“See you try-outs!” You smiled at the senior as you handed the form.

Your eyes wandered around the nearby booths as you waited for Miya to come back.

“I’ll just look around.” You mouthed at her when she turned to make eye contact with you.

“Hey! Interested to join Photography club?”

“Freshies! Come join the Badminton club!”

The atmosphere was completely chaotic with seniors shouting at the top of their lungs to promote their club. Slightly disoriented from the ruckus, you had bumped into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry—“

“So sorry about that—“

The two of you took a step back to meet each other’s eyes. “Sorry about that.” The black-haired boy gave a sheepish grin as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was kinda too excited to sign up for a club.”

“No worries, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t looking.”

“All’s good. B-But… Any chance that you happen to know where the track and field club booth is at?”

Your eyes widened slightly in amusement, “Yea I do. I was just about to head back to meet my friend.”

“Oh! Could I follow you there?”

“Sure.”

Your eyes took a quick once-over, it wasn’t hard to notice that his built was athletic, donned in sweats and an oversize black shirt, this guy looked like the poster boy of college dudes.

“My name’s Jungkook. What’s yours?”

“Yn. Did you run track before college?”

“Yep, I do 4x100s.”

“Oh, same here!” You flashed a smile. “Wow, what a coincidence that I’d bump into you huh.” Jungkook chuckled and you did the same. “Must be a sign that we’ll both be teammates.”

“Not a bad sign at all.”

“Yn!” Miya waved her hand wildly amidst the crowd. “I was about to leave the booth to go find you! What booths did you— Oh hi, I’m Miya, you are?”

“Jungkook. Nice to meet you. You must be the friend yn was going back for.”

Miya gave you a subtle look which you chose to ignore that day.

“Jungkook,” Miya grinned, “It’s nice to meet you too!”

“Speaking of the party, yn, you know Jungkook will be there as well, right?”

“Yes, this is the tenth time you’ve told me that.”

“Sorry, just another reminder before we pull up to the party.”

Besides having a ton of workload to do, you also had another reason for having second thoughts.

That reason was Jungkook.

“Thanks for your concern. But it’s been a year, I’m long over it.”

“That’s great to hear, I’m proud of you yn.” Namjoon piped in as he parked the car. “And we,” He placed his hand on Miya’s, “Should trust our friend’s word.”

Miya glanced at you before sighing, “Alright. I do. Now, let’s go greet the birthday boy.”

The three of you left the car and made your way to the party venue. The birthday boy was clearly loaded as the venue was huge. You jaw dropped in awe, “Why is this party so extravagant?”

“Good thing our birthday gifts are more drinks.” Miya nudged you and you laughed, nodding your head.

You were all greeted with blaring music from the stereo and neon lights to add into the ambience. People had already begun drinking and some were busy eating dinner.

“Yn!! I missed you!” A very familiar voice erupted as you spotted a figure rushing towards you.

“Hoseok!” You grinned, extending your arms out for a hug.

“You didn’t come to my party!” He pouted as he pulled away. “But I visited the next day as a surprise!” You defended yourself.

“That’s true… Still feels like forever since I saw you.” Hoseok pulled you back in for a hug.

The four of you made your way to one of open rooms which had been turned into a buffet area. You had helped yourself to the wide array of food and found a table to eat with your friends.

“We have a new hurdler joining us. He’s our batch but he only joined the club this try-out round.” Namjoon filled you in since you were the only non-hurdler in your group.

“Oh, who is it?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait, Kim Taehyung? Isn’t he from table tennis?”

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, “Guess he wanted to try something new. I was there during try-outs and he’s a really fast runner.”

—

Since it was a huge party and you weren’t close to the birthday boy, you didn’t need to spend the night entertaining the main character of the night.

To make full use of the amenities at the booked venue, the four of you started playing different rounds of games.

You were paired with Hoseok against Miya and Namjoon. The first round was charades and you lost to them. Hoseok found the game Just Dance and proposed it as the next round.

Jungkook had not been on your mind the entire night as you busied yourself playing games with your friends.

“What else can you do?!” Miya exclaimed, stepping in front to take over Hoseok’s spot.

“More like what else can you not do?! That was amazing!” You pulled Hoseok in for hug, “We’re gonna win this. Get ready to treat us for a meal!”

Namjoon chuckled, “We have to do another game after this. Hoseok basically created the game Just Dance. He followed the moves to easily.”

“Don’t whine, just dance!” Hoseok teased, pulling you back on the couch as you both watched Miya and Namjoon do their round.

“Didn’t want to ruin the mood but… He’s watching.” Hoseok leaned in to whisper in your ear. Your eyes slowly wandered around the venue to spot a familiar figure hanging around a crowd of people.

You both made eye contact and you decided to cast a smile at his direction. In return, you received a quick and small smile before he looked away, completely avoiding your direction.

“That went well.”

“Give him time.”

“Hobi,” you deadpanned, “I’m pretty sure one year is a lot of time.”

Hoseok just shrugged, “I know but… Okay, I have nothing to say to defend him.”

You chuckled, turning your attention back to Miya and Namjoon, “You don’t have to defend him.”

“He’s my close friend too.”

“I know, and I feel bad that you have to split yourself in half every time—“

“No, no,” Hoseok nudged you to get that thought off your mind, “I don’t feel that way. Besides, I met the two of you on separate occasions as well. Please don’t feel guilty about anything.”

You gave him a thankful smile, “Thanks Hobi.”

The Just Dance bet ended with your landslide victory thanks to Hoseok’s hidden dance skills.

Namjoon insisted for another game to even the playing field and Hoseok went out to the backyard to set up the beer pong table. Miya and Namjoon had gone to the kitchen to grab the cups and drinks and you had volunteered to grab more titbits to snack on.

Thanks to your luck, Jungkook had busied himself with filling his plate with snacks as well.

“Hey.”

Jungkook jumped upon heading your voice, quickly steadying the plate on his hand. “H-Hey.”

“How’s the party going?”

You attempted to start a conversation with him as you grabbed a plate yourself. Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat, “It’s a huge party… H-How about— Are you enjoying it?”

“Yea, there’s tons of things to do. How about you?”

“Yea.” Jungkook fiddled with one of the serving scoops. You pressed your lips in a tight smile, recognising the awkward atmosphere engulfing the both of you.

It hurt you to know Jungkook was still feeling awkward around you. It always reminded you that you had made the wrong choice. That you had ruined everything between the two of you.

“Right, I guess I’ll head off first. See you at practice?”

“Yea… See you around.” Jungkook nodded his head, his gaze locked on the table filled with snacks as you left the area, feeling dejected from your encounter.

“What’s with the long face?” Hoseok asked as you approached your group. You looked up to meet his eyes and he immediately knew, sighing as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still feels like it is.”

“Is it just me or am I still hungover from the party?”

You laughed, “You had a whole Sunday to rest.”

Miya sighed as she started doing hip circles. “I know, I must be getting old.”

“You probably are. Anyway, where is Namjoon?”

Just as you had asked, you heard his voice calling you and Miya. The both of you turned to see Namjoon heading over your direction with someone unfamiliar next to him. Namjoon was goofily waving his hands to grab your attention while pointing to the male next to him.

As they got closer, you managed to recognise the person next him. It was Kim Taehyung. He was popular in college because he was very talented at table tennis. It shocked you when Namjoon said he had joined the track team as a hurdler.

“You two must be Miya and Yn. I’m Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake.

With a light smile, you reached out to return the handshake. Taehyung had a welcoming aura around him. He had a friendly and approachable vibe. He was tall, athletic, and good looking.

“So, what made you join track?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s our last year in college, wanted to try something different.”

“Hope you like it here.”

Taehyung glanced back at you, casting a boxy grin your way, “I think I will.”

The coach blew their whistle to grab everyone’s attention. Everyone made their way to the centre of the field to start physical training. Training started with light warm-ups before rounds around the track.

While running, Taehyung was happily chatting away with you to get to know you better. “That sucks, so you’re not a hurdler?”

“Nope, I do 4x100s.”

“So, I’ll only get to see you once a week.” Taehyung pouted and you chuckled, “You can see me on other days.”

Track had 3 sessions a week - one combined with everyone and two within your own events. The combined session was physical training for all, hence why you were running rounds with a hurdler by your side.

“I’ll take that up!” He winked at you before speeding up slightly, “Catch me if you can!”

From behind, Jungkook watched you and Taehyung converse with a scowl on his face.

Why were you even talking while jogging? Was Taehyung flirting with you?

He used to be the one disturbing you during these rounds.

Jungkook tried to shrug off the scene of you and Taehyung together, ignoring the bitter feeling growing in his chest.

“Don’t feel bad. You’re sick, I’ll bring up some food for you.” You grabbed your student ID and phone as you insisted that Miya stayed in bed. Casting you a weak smile, she thanked you as you left your dorm to head off to the dining hall.

You lucked out when you saw Jungkook standing at the end of the queue, scrolling through his phone. With a deep breathe in as you made your way to join the queue. “Hey.” You gave a cautious greeting towards his way. Jungkook’s heart jumped, his grip tightening on his phone as he looked up to see you smiling at him.

“Hey.”

Jungkook hated how awkward he felt with you. It never used to be that way. Then again, that was a year ago.

You also never understood why Jungkook was the one avoiding you when you were the one who got rejected.

“Today was fun.” Jungkook gave you a toothy grin, “Yea it was.”

“Definitely my new favourite restaurant. I’m so full!” He playfully patted his stomach and you chuckled, “Looks like I know where to go when you start being grumpy or stressed.”

“That’s easy, you don’t have to take me to that restaurant. I just have to spend time with you and I’m good to go.” He shrugged his shoulders. Your heart fluttered at how nonchalant his words were yet so genuine. You had been thinking about it the entire afternoon, contemplating if it was the right decision. But you knew you had to let it out before it was too late.

“You good?” Jungkook pulled you out from your thoughts. “Mm? Oh yea, I’m good.” Your feet lazily kicked a stone in front of you.

“Hey,” Jungkook stopped walking, gently placing his hand on your arm to turn you around to face him. “You can always tell me something.”

“I know, I’m… I’m just tired that’s all.”

Jungkook pursed his lips together, “How about we head over to my place to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

You let Jungkook choose the movie for the night as your head was far away. Jungkook nudged you, shimmying his shoulders. That was always his signal when he offered his shoulder for you to rest on. You gave him a small smile as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

Despite loving Marvel, you found yourself not paying a single ounce of attention to the movie. Jungkook seemed to have noticed that as you weren’t bantering with his small comments to the movie.

You were brought back to reality when you noticed the movie was paused.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up to face Jungkook.

“I was about to ask that.”

“I’m… I’m tired. I think I’ll just head home for the night.”

Jungkook frowned and you had to look away to save yourself from crumbling into pieces.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

You sighed, this was it. You just had to let it out.

“Promise me you won’t hate me?”

“Hate you? Jungkook repeated, “I would never hate you.”

He placed his hand on your knee, encouraging you to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while.” You paused, allowing the words to sink in. You could feel his hand stiffen and you were sure he could hear the loud beating of your heart.

The silence was deafening.

Your confession repeating in both your heads.

As every second dragged on, you started to regret it even more. You had made a terrible mistake and there was no way you could take it back. Life had no re-dos.

“I’m guessing you don’t feel the same way, given the response.” You clicked your tongue together, gathering the courage to look up at him.

Jungkook was lost for words. He would have never expected to hear a confession from you that night. From his closest friend. From his best friend.

Your words left a funny feeling in him that night, but he could not tell whether it was a good or bad feeling.

“Well, don’t worry.” You forced a laugh, “I didn’t expect much anyway. I just wanted to let it out. But I’m guessing I just ruined our friendship.”

“N-No, uh… I just… I just need time to… to absorb all of this.”

You nodded your head, “I understand.” You took it as a cue to get up from the couch, Jungkook’s eyes following your figure. “I’ll see myself out. Sorry for ruining the night.”

“T-Text me when you made it home safely.” Jungkook called out as you headed for the door.

Terrible. Even after ruining your friendship, Jungkook was still looking out for you. You hated how that made you feel. You turned around to face him one more time, a smile plastered on your face.

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

It pained Jungkook to see you holding back your tears. If he could have another chance to replay that night. He would’ve stopped you from leaving, he would’ve told you that your friendship wasn’t ruined.

He would’ve done anything he could that night to stop you from leaving his life.

But in reality, he did none of those.

When you texted him that night that you were home, your message was left unread.

You took it as a message to give him time to process everything. A night turned into a day. A day turned into a week. A week turned into a month. A month turned into a year.

It was because of your confession, you both had become strangers once again.

“Yn!”

“Oh, hi Tae!”

Despite using his phone, Jungkook’s attention was on your conversation with Taehyung. You were already calling him ‘Tae’? Since when were you that close with him?

“Namjoon told me Miya’s sick. She alright?”

“Yep, just grabbing food for her so she can take her meds and rest.”

“Need my help?”

“Oh no, all’s good.”

Taehyung nudged you, “It’s alright, you have to get your own food too. I’ve already eaten, I can help carry her food up to your dorm, check up on her as well.”

“Sure, if you’re free, that is.”

“Free for you.” He teased and you laughed, looking away momentarily to see Jungkook who seemed to be invested in his phone.

“Oh, Jungkook! Didn’t recognise you at first. How’ve you been?”

Jungkook looked up to greet Taehyung, “H-Hey, I’ve been well.”

Ever since meeting Taehyung, he got along with your group easily. In fact, he got along with everyone effortlessly. He knew almost everyone in the track team only after 2 weeks. That meant only 2 combined sessions. Somehow along the way, it seemed that he had introduced himself to Jungkook as well.

Taehyung was amazing with people and that was admirable. The more you got to know Taehyung, the more you looked forward to hanging out with him.

“See you next practice!” Taehyung happily patted Jungkook’s shoulders goodbye as you two went off a different direction towards your dorm.

You barely register their conversation as your head was somewhere else, recalling the night you had confessed.

“Hey, are you okay?” Taehyung’s concerned voice made you look up to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

Taehyung frowned, glancing behind to see Jungkook looking at the two of you walking away. Jungkook shook his head, quickly glancing away as Taehyung caught him looking.

“Something to do with Jungkook, perhaps?”

Taehyung was very observant and you knew you couldn’t fool him as well.

“Sort of… We just used to be close but... He’s been avoiding me and I’ve been trying to salvage whatever’s left. But it doesn’t seem to be working.”

Taehyung pursed his lips together, “It’s not fair if only one party is putting in the effort, you know.”

“I know, it’s just that… We used to be close.” You sighed as you stepped into the elevator with him, your gaze on your tray of food.

“Still, it’s not worth salvaging if you’re the only one putting in the effort. I’m sure you’ve done your best. Sometimes, you just can’t force things to happen.”

As the elevator opened to your level, you allowed his words to sink in.

“Miya! We come with food!” Taehyung grinned, bringing the tray to your sick roommate as she thanked the two of you for your help.

Your eyes trailed to Taehyung who was helping Miya grab her medicine and a glass of water.

Maybe Taehyung was right. Maybe it’s time to stop trying.

378 notes · View notes

itsamejin · 4 years ago

Text

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality.

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters.

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet.

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too.

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength.

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression.

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person?

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?”

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all.

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you.

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-”

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him.

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed.

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute.

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on.

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon.

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed, embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him.

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV.

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him.

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?”

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way.

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you.

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way.

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~

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7K notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years ago

Text

pinky promise | p.parker, b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] little!peter x little!reader, stucky x reader, stucky x peter, ddlg, ddlb, polyamory, fingering, vaginal sex, sex in little space, age regression, millionaire!stucky, hints of breeding kink

A/N: she’s finally here :) i intended for this to have more stucky but it just didn’t work out lol

In which Peter and you play Mommy and Daddy.

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @nsfwsebbie@yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe

main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“Pick out which one you want, baby,” Bucky whispered before walking past the little curtain, talking into his cellphone as he listened in on an important phone call. You went back and forth trying on the same skirt, one white and the other a light pink. You were starting to get a bit frustrated, knowing that you preferred when Steve just chose for you.

You huffed, deciding that you didn’t want to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror for any longer. You decided to put them back on their individual hangers and put your clothes on. That morning, Daddy had put you in one of your “big girl” dresses. It was still light blue with ruched sleeves but, paired with your white sneakers, you looked normal enough to walk around the mall.

When you left the dressing room, Bucky was waiting for you. His face instantly fell when he saw your expression, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed your arm softly and when you turned your face away from him, he grabbed your chin, “Which skirt did you pick?”

“I didn’t like them,” You spoke softly, your eyes slowly rising up to meet his.

“But you looked beautiful in them,” You gave him a shy look and his lips began to tug into a grin. He reached up to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t decide,” You told him, “I don’t need them anyways …”

“Nonsense. If you can’t choose, then my princess must have both. How else are you supposed to turn heads and make a good impression on the first day of classes?” Bucky easily dismissed the idea, “We’ll have a fashion show tonight and the boys can help you pick.”

You should’ve known that money would be no object to him. It was never to Steve but it seemed Bucky liked to spoil you especially. No wonder Peter was so spoiled.

“Thank you, Papa,” As he heard your voice, the raise in pitch and the pouting lips, he knew what you needed. He kissed your forehead softly.

“Awe, my baby doesn’t want to be a big girl anymore. Let’s get you home then, princess.”

It was true. Your date today was very nice and you loved the bond you were building with Bucky but you wanted desperately to wind down in little space. After a long day of college classes, your favorite thing was coming home to Steve but now you got to come home to three people who wanted to baby you.

From the moment, Bucky buckled your seatbelt for you, you were already beginning to slip. He held your hand the entire ride and as the two of you walked into the luxurious brownstone in Brooklyn that you called home.

You were quite ready to run into Steve’s arms but the first thing you saw was Steve’s arms wrapped around Peter. The younger boy was sitting in his lap, playing a video game, his eyes focused on the flat screen illuminating the living room.

When Steve saw you, he smiled of course, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Steve was Peter’s Daddy as well but, in your moment of wanting to regress, you couldn’t help but want Steve’s full attention.

“Hi, Papa!” Peter shouted, his eyes not leaving the Mario Kart game. He was dressed in his PJ’s, the footie ones that had all the little Darth Vader’s printed on them.

“How was your trip? Successful, I hope,” Steve asked.

Bucky seemed to notice your mood had a fell and that's when you felt his hand on your waist. He lifted you easily, setting you on his hip, all while holding your shopping bags. You were very grateful, resting your head on his shoulder, “Very successful but this one is in need of some tender love and care. I think we need a nice warm bath, don’t we?”

Bucky felt you nod and his lips pressed into a thin line. Steve flashed him a knowing look and Bucky gave him a look that said, “don’t worry, i got this”. The merging of your small family went much better than Steve had anticipated but you still had your moments.

Bucky carried you upstairs into the room you shared with Peter. The walls weren’t painted white but the two sides of the room contrasted each other. Peter’s side was full of pastel blues and greens while yours was rainbow central.

Bucky ran a bath for you and, much to your enjoyment, he joined you inside. You felt completely relaxed as he ran a wash cloth along your skin, soaping you up and massaging your skin gently. Your back against his front, Bucky could feel you slowly relaxing.

“You know, both Daddy and Papa love you very much,” Bucky spoke into your ear, his hand dropping between your legs, slowly spreading them.

“Mhm,” You agreed, shivers running through you despite the warm water.

“And Peter does too …” As his fingers spread your folds, his strong hands began to rub in a circular motion.

“I know, Papa,” His pace was still gentle, every circle he made teased your sensitive bulb, and you found your hips starting to grind against his fingers. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the sensation.

“That’s why I think that this weekend … you and Peter should spend some time together, while Daddy and Papa are away on business.”

Your eyes opened at that, surprise evident on your face, “Without Papa and Daddy? But we’re too little-” A small moan escaped your lips as he paid special attention to your special area. You slowly closed your eyes again.

“Your big brother will take care of you, whatever you need, princess,” Bucky spoke softly, his fingers working methodically against your clit.

All you could do was nod, agreeing with whatever Bucky had said. You were too focused on your incoming orgasm to disagree. When you finally did release, Bucky didn’t let you go, he kept going until you were trying to pull away from his body. He wrapped his other arm around your torso, pulling you back, as he made you ride out your orgasm.

“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you, Papa,” You panted and he began to kiss the skin on your shoulder.

You were still deep into little space when you awoke the next morning. After a tearful goodbye to Steve and Bucky, you decided that you’d play dress up in order to cheer yourself up. Peter explained to you that he was going to be a “big boy” and make the two of you food for your tea party. A tea party that he invited himself to after complaining that his own stuffed bear was invited before him.

You’d chosen a cowgirl hat to go with your flouncy pink dress and set the living room up to be your venue. The coffee table was fully decorated and pillows surrounded the table for all your guests to sit.

“Petey!” You called to the kitchen just as he entered with a plate. You told him he had to dress up if he was to join you but he refused to put on one of your dresses. Instead, you had to settle for him wearing a red cape and a crown.

He set it out in the middle of the table, proudly smiling as he exclaimed, “Ta-da!”

You took one look and pouted, “You burnt it,” There were about ten slices of burnt toast with butter, “And where are the finger sandwiches? Cinnamon scones?”

Peter gave you a confused look as he took a seat on the pillow beside you. He was already grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing his mouth, “The toast is pretty good,” Was the great response you received. You shook your head, deciding to just pour the tea for everyone.

“Here’s tea for you Buttons, Sassy Cat, Miss Sprinkles, Sir Horse …. and for you Mr. Parker,” You poured his tea carefully and you smiled, noting how impressed he seemed by the simple act. You set down the pot and grabbed your own cup, “And make sure you sip it like this, with your pinky out, because we’re sophisticated.”

“I thought you were a cowgirl,” Peter chuckled a bit as you watched him try to sip his tea carefully.

“A cowgirl princess,” You corrected him with the utmost seriousness, “I’m still sophisticated.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” He bowed his head slightly and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Your day had started with burnt toast but you had a feeling Peter was going to make it a fun day.

Hours later, the living room was now shifted into a small fortress made of blankets and chairs. Toy Story was playing on the TV while you and Peter paid attention to your separate coloring books. Your most relaxing pastime was having your paci, letting it soothe you, while you colored. You stayed inside the lines unlike Peter and he’d constantly tear out his pages before starting again.

The two of you had changed out of your costumes from early, having done a million activities since tea this morning. You were down your panties, a rainbow t-shirt, and fuzzy pink socks. You were flipping the page in your book when you felt Peter’s foot graze the bottom of yours. You didn’t think much of it, even starting to find the feeling soothing after a while.

When you turned your head towards him, you found him watching you, “I’m bored,” He spoke suddenly, “Let’s play a video game.”

You only shook your head, turning back to your drawing, and you heard him let out a frustrated huff of air. The stroking of your foot soon turned into a tapping. Despite your attempt to ignore him, he began to inch closer to you. When you turned your head again, his face was only inches from yours and you were looking into his brown eyes, “We can play pretend some more,” That made you perk up and, despite being in the middle of drawing a castle, you set down your crayon.

You gave him a curious look which caused him to smile, “We could play Mommy and Daddy,” As your eyebrows raised in confusion, he continued, “Well I’d be the Daddy and you’d be the Mommy of course. Don’t you know how to play?”

You slowly shook your head and Peter leaned in. You were frozen for a moment as he kissed your pacifier. You felt your cheeks heat us as he gently removed it from your mouth then pressed his soft lips against yours. You’d never shared a kiss with him while the two of you were alone and, for a moment, it felt forbidden, “We have to ask permission…”

Peter could see your enjoyment as clear as day, “But we’re just pretending. Mommies and Daddies kiss all the time,” You nodded, understanding though you still felt a bit nervous.

“I like your kisses, Petey,” You said and you watched his face turn red. He leaned in again and you were grateful for his touch, how he moved your lips against yours, and how his tongue began to explore your mouth. You turned on your side and you felt his hands roam over your backside.

He dipped his fingers into your panties, causing you to cry out, “Shush, we have to be quiet. We can’t wake up the baby,” He whispered to you and you instantly nodded, enjoying the sensation, “You’re soaked, Y/N.”

You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, still confined to his underwear. You reached out to touch it and you watched him shudder at your touch, “Geez…” He groaned, “Do you want to make another baby?” Something seemed to shift in his eyes and suddenly he was more eager than before.

“Yes,” You nodded, playing along to whatever scenario he was making up along the way, “I love being a Mommy.”

Peter couldn’t wait much longer and you let him climb on top of you as you quickly pulled down your panties. He didn’t waste time with his own underwear, pulling out his hard cock, and pressing against your warm heat. You felt his tip rub against your clit and then up and down your folds.

You held onto the sides of his torso, gripping his striped shirt tightly as he began to sink inside of you, “Y-You’re so tight, honey,” he began to rock back and forth, looking into your eyes as he hovered over you. He gripped the pillows beneath you tightly, the motion in his hips causing your body to convulse beneath him.

“Peter, peter, peter,” You breathed, biting down on your lip. His head dipped down, kissing your lips again and, distracted, you didn’t notice that his hand moved between your thighs. He fucked you while his hand stroked your sensitive bulb, knowing that would send you over your edge. As you tightened around him, you brought him to his climax.

As he collapsed against you, catching his breath, you welcomed his embrace.

“You can’t tell Papa or Daddy,” He told you, hugging you tight.

You only held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours.

You wouldn’t tell but you imagined the grand punishment that would ultimately lead to you cumming until you passed out.

“Petey … petey,” You tapped the sleeping boy’s nose until you finally startled him awake. He was quite cute when he slept, holding tight to his teddy bear while he was tucked into his baby blue sheets. Peter pouted as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing you hovering over his face, book in hand, “I can’t sleep.”

He attempted to close his eyes again, “Count your sheep, Y/N,” He mumbled as he turned his head away from you.

You bounced on top of him, your legs straddling him, and he awoke again, “I counted all the sheep! Like five trillion-million of them,” As your voice raised, he pressed his pointer finger to his lips. He sat up on his elbows, giving you a frustrated look.

“Shush, you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” You instantly shook your head, obeying his warning to calm down. Peter eyes the book in your hand, “Why can’t you read it to yourself?”

“I like the way you read,” You spoke earnestly, “And you can say all the big words.”

You knew that would work, stroking his ego. Peter loved it when everyone treated him like a big boy. He thought for only a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips and suddenly his tiredness was gone.

“C’mon, get under,” He motioned for you to move and, excitedly, you climbed under the covers with him. The twin-sized bed fit you two comfortably and you liked cuddling more than anything. As Peter pulled the covers over you, he whipped out the flashlight he kept underneath his pillow.

You rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso, as you listened to him, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.”

The accents he used always made you giggle. Peter was quite the story teller but that didn’t keep you from drifting off a few minutes later. Peter kept reading, entranced by the novel, but stopped when he heard your soft snores. He turned off the light and let the book fall against his stomach.

“G’night, Y/N.”

#peter parker x reader #little!peter #little!reader #stucky x reader #stucky x peter #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #daddy!stucky #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #sebastian stan #tom holland #little space

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royal-ruin · 3 years ago

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avatar: the last airbender fic recs (part 1)

oh, there’s definitely going to be a part 2(edit: part 2 linked here). personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

sokka / zuko (zukka) fic recs

*feels like we only go backwards by oldpotatoe (~134.5k as of now)

[Time passes oddly. Between one second and the next, Sokka has the Fire Lord pinned to the wall with his hands around the bastard’s throat. Golden eyes (one gold eye, his mind whispers) widen in shock.

“Sokka?” he chokes out. And then he smiles.

What the fuck?

“Sokka, I—”

Sokka slams his head against the wall, once, twice, and the smile wipes off his face. Good.

“What,” Sokka bites out, “have you done to my sister?”]

Or: An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage.

But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

warning: incomplete fic (last updated 10/8/21). i actually just read this last night and it my my angsty heart so happy. like there’s so much angst and it’s all written so well. also, if you’re apprehensive because of the incomplete thing, i get it, i was too. but the last update doesn’t leave off at a cliffhanger and it can count as a hopeful ending.

Afternoon Tea by toribird (~47k)

Of all the places he could have walked into--of all the tea shops in Ba Sing Se--(of which there are many)--he had chosen the one that Prince-fucking-Zuko worked at.

Or: Early on during his time in Ba Sing Se, Sokka stops for a cup of tea. This small action changes everything.

that's murder, buddy by egeria (~23k)

Throughout the streets, on quiet nights, it was rumored the screams of those missing could be heard. Some say the sounds were coming from underground.

Where were the young girls? And what was happening to them? Was an evil spirit haunting Gaoling, or something more human? More sinister?

My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’.

Or: Sokka has no idea that his crush is the host of his favorite podcast. (But everyone else knows.)

the entire fic is just sokka being oblivious, romantically and logically (i don’t know how else to explain it). it’s a modern college au, but bending is still a thing.

and where you go, i will go too (yes, i am now a part of you) by AndyBoy (~4k)

[“I, uh…” Zuko shifted in his seat. “Well…” He gestured vaguely, hands following the movement of his wrists. “Yes,” he settled on finally, averting his eyes. “I’ve met my soulmate.”

“What?” Sokka leaned forward interestedly, ignoring the soft ache behind his ribcage. “Is it that goth chick? Mel?”

“Mai,” Zuko snapped. “And...no, it’s not her.”

“Then who?” Suki asked. “Do we know her?”

“Yes—No. It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to tell us, Zuko—” Katara started.

“Good!” Zuko said, standing up. “Because I don’t want to!”]

Soulmate AU Where you see in grayscale until you hear your soulmate laugh for the first time. Sokka laughs a lot, loud, proud, and bright. Zuko...barely even smiles.

*How Zuko Kind of Maybe Starts Accidentally Dating the Water Tribe Peasant by All_About_That_Ace (~13k)

If Uncle hadn't insisted on making Zuko wait tables filled with giggling girls, this wouldn't have happened. If the damn Water Tribe peasant hadn't heard about the amazing new tea shop, this wouldn't have happened. If Zuko didn't come up with such terrible ideas while panicking, this wouldn't have happened. Though honestly, Zuko probably would've fucked up somehow anyway, so what was the point in griping?

*The Duke's a Hazard by naggeluide (~51k)

Everything changed when the feral child attacked. Sokka and Zuko are stuck co-parenting the Duke, and the last half of Book 3 suddenly becomes a lot more chaotic.

oh god. this fic is literally everything to me. it’s my comfort fic (and i don’t say that lightly) sokka and zuko become caretakers for stabby feral child!duke after zuko joins their group. it’s just so good, like i don’t even have words for it. it has like found family AND there’s a slow burn zukka romance. it’s hilarious too. so much crack and humor. there’s angst (of course there is, who would i be if there wasn’t) but there is so much tooth-rotting fluff too. i’ve read a few times, and i’m going to reread it again, because i can.

*I Wanna Be The Very Best by Haicrescendo (~3k) (series is ~64k)

[“Gym Leader Zuko?” He asks hopefully, and the grin the man sends him dashes his hopes into smoke.

“Afraid not,” the man says, “Zuko is my nephew and unfortunately, he’s not here right now.”

“Shit.” Sokka squirms a little. “Any idea when he may be back? I need his badge so I can—“ Go beat up Aang for being annoying and perfect at everything and making champion at thirteen goddamn years old while Sokka’s doing this whole thing late— “Better myself and reach true enlightenment. Uh. Sir.”

The man says nothing about Sokka’s age, just hmmms in consideration and rustles his bag.

“Call me Iroh,” the man says. “My nephew is like a spring wind, vivacious and—“

Flighty.]

Or, The Pokémon AU that nobody asked for.

this is part of an incomplete 12 part series called Carry On For You. i think it would be helpful if you had some kind of prior knowledge about pokemon, but it should be fine if you don’t.

*absence of heat, excess of destiny by theycallmesuperboy (~4k)

Sokka is born in the dead of winter with a red dragon curling down the left side of his back.

Zuko is born in the sweltering heat of summer with a sword down his spine.

He doesn’t want to talk about it when their gazes turn on him. They make assumptions— is it someone he left behind in the Fire Nation? He looks away when he agrees with them.

Toph brushes past him when they all part ways. She says, “I know you’re lying.”

boy problems by burnt_oranges (~22k)

[“I accidentally signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka,” Zuko says faintly. He sits up so fast he almost falls out of his chair. “I signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka, and he agreed."]

In which Zuko suffers in a variety of ways, including but not limited to: close and constant proximity to the object of his affections, assassination attempts, and irreparable injuries to his dignity.

#avatar: the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender fanfic #atla #sokka x zuko #zuko x sokka #zukka

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what-if-nct · 2 years ago

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Bruh- big dick doesn’t always equal dominance. I’ve always loved the idea of being submissive as early as 10-11 years old. My sisters loved Girls Generation, and it began my attraction to older women. They were all so gorgeous and instantly caught me attention by surprise.

But RED VELVET- they started the kinks and fetishes for me. They were the reason why when I got my first girlfriend at 13, I knew what would make me hard instantly. I wanted to be stepped on and be controlled by her — I even whined to get her attention. Sadly, she didn’t want like a submissive boyfriend because intercourse was the only thing she wanted from a guy with a 7 inch dick at the time. Although I could get a lot of girls through hookup culture since rumours were spreading around that I had the best dick in the whole school in year 7-9 (around grade 8-10) (My dick started growing from when I was 9 or 10 and it was so big that I outgrew all of the boys by the time I turned 14 — even my Asian friends lol), a lot of girls wouldn’t want me once they realised I was submissive or I was moaning louder than than them or too femininely. Ever since then, I started feeling insecure with my dick and would even wished I had a normal average size. This even goes with the same for guys. Whenever I would make out with them, they would expect me to top them because I had a bigger dick. When they asked “why do you have a large dick if you aren’t going to use it anyways” or “why are you a bottom when you have a big dick”, it makes me feel ashamed that I would do anything to make it at least 3 inches smaller.

Once when I was 14, I finally had an experience with an older girl (about 17-18) and she was very supportive with my kinks and me being submissive. It was the best sexual encounter I’ve ever done for which made me feel more confident when she said that my moans sounded adorable — like a kitten.

One day, me and some friends went to a sleepover party and I was dared to play 7 minutes in heaven with my closest friend of 8 years (since year 1 when we started school for the first time and interesting fact, I just came back from South Korea over the holidays) and since he was gay and I was bi, I didn’t mind to do it with him.

When we got to the closet, I told him that I was a bottom and he was like “Cool! I’m a top so-” and I smiled because I was being accepted despite already seeing me naked. I must of gotten so emotional since I managed to blurt out a “really?” You wanna know what he said?

“Sam, I knew you were a bottom, and I accept you no matter what. I like topping anyways.”

This left me emotional, even when the 7 minutes was up. Don’t worry, he decided to suck my dick whilst fingering my butthole.

I then proceeded to ask if he actually meant what he said during the 7 minutes (because it could easily change since I’ve been manipulated a lot), and well…

“You’re my best friend, of course I meant it. Any time you want to fuck, you can call me. Bros before hoes.”

From around March, we processed to be besties with benefits until few days after Halloween, I wanted to change it up. I asked him to be my boyfriend and he said yes.

It’s our 4 year anniversary today and since we didn’t have a lot of time due to assignments, we literally had a date at the college canteen where we literally paid for each other’s chips and ate together at the tables. That’s literally our typical dates basically.

You are completely right, a large penis doesn't mean dominance and it shouldn't automatically be assumed from those who have one. It is hard to be comfortable with your sexuality when you've really only been met with an adverse response. It sucks people aren't as open minded and accepting that you're not what they expect you to be. I have been approached by men who are more submissive. Sense I'm also submissive it kinda doesn't work but I still try and give it a chance. But I'm happy that after all of that you've still had good experiences and you've found someone who accepts and loves you as you are and that's what's really important. I''m so happy you can have that, I wish you both many beautiful years.

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golbrocklovely · 3 years ago

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remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...

prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.

trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing

word count: 5526

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.

It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.

But now... he couldn't do that.

Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.

When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”

Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.

“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.

He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”

“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”

“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.

Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”

“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”

“Theories?” He puzzled.

“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.

Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”

“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.

He cautioned. “...okay?”

“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.

Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”

“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”

“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”

“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”

“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.

He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”

“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.

I use Facebook? Gross.

“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.

“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”

She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”

Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”

Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”

“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.

He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”

Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”

“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.

She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”

Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.

“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.

She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”

Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’

Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”

“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.

The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”

He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”

“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.

He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”

“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.

He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”

“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.

“What? How?” He questioned.

The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”

“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.

“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.

Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”

She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”

He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”

“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.

He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”

She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”

~~~

Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.

As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.

“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”

She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”

She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.

“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.

Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”

Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.

“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”

“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.

Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.

“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.

“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”

Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”

“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.

“Sam…” Colby started.

Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”

“What?” Colby puzzled.

Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.

Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”

“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.

“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”

Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.

None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.

“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.

“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.

Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”

“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.

“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.

Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”

Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.

He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”

“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.

He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”

“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.

“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.

She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.

She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.

He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.

He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.

His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.

“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.

Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”

The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.

“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.

“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”

“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”

“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.

He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”

She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.

They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.

She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”

“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.

He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.

Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.

Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”

“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.

“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.

I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.

He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.

“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.

He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”

She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”

She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.

“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.

“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.

“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.

“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.

“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”

“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”

She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."

Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.

His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”

“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.

Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.

He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”

“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.

“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”

It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”

“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.

As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

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