#I regret so bad not going to see her when she came in june but I literally couldn't bc of work

[theleafling]

if I don't see allie x the next time she comes to toronto I might kill myself

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA

Would I be the asshole if I pull out of being a bridesmaid for my 'best friend'?

Background: E and I became best friends at 13 and we are both about to turn 43. we've been through a million ups and downs together. She has a crappy family and I became friend, sister, mother, support. In the last 15 years or so she has become a functional alcoholic and I have found it harder and harder to deal with her. I've bailed her out so many times. I've 'loaned' her thousands of dollars that I have no expectation of ever seeing again. I've tried to support her and given her advice when she asked for it (even though I knew she would ignore it) and listened to her problems (for hours and hours as she sucked down wine and got drunker and drunker). When she's not a drunken mess she's an awesome person, kind, funny, caring, generous and soberE was usually worth having to put up with dunkE.

Twice in our friendship we've had fights where it's taken us a long time to get back to speaking terms but there would be a text here and a phone call there, then we'd be back to talking for hours every other day. A year ago we had a huge fight and I decided I just needed to not talk to her for a while. I didn't even feel bad about not talking to her, it was almost a luxury to not sit on the phone and listen to her get progressively drunker as she slurped red wine. I did try the old tested route back to close friendship earlier this year. I would send her some texts when something big was happening or when I came across something I knew she'd like. But I would only get 1 or 2 word texts back. In February there was a major flood in our home town and I was freaking out about my family that still lived there - she was not, I felt like I was more worried about her mother than she was, I know they've got a bad relationship but we're talking a bodies floating around kind of situation. I was making multiple 5 hour mercy dashes with car loads of aid supplies and freaking out seeing these places we spent our childhood just destroyed and texting her about it and getting nothing back. I made a couple more efforts to contact her over the next couple of months but still nothing much back. Around May-June I decided I wasn't going to bother contacting her, I'd talk if she contacted me but I wasn't putting in effort anymore.

In September she sent me a text saying she was getting married in Jan 2025 and would I be one of her bridesmaids. I really didn't want to say yes. But almost 30 years of friendship, I felt guilty turning her down. And it felt like an overture on her part, like she was ready to make an effort. So I said yes and have been regretting it since. We are still not really speaking. We'll like each other's FB posts and that's about it. I mean there's still plenty of time for us to become friends again but I'm pretty much decided that if our relationship hasn't improved by the middle of 2024 I'm going to politely back out. It's going to be a backyard DIY wedding, she won't expect me to be heavily involved in the planning because she lives so far away that I couldn't do much more than turn up for the day and stand up with her. Me pulling out won't leave a hole in the planning so I know I wouldn't be an asshole for that. Where I might be an asshole is I think she would be really sad if I'm not there because I am the closest thing she's got to family, I know her mother and step-father won't be there and it's unlikely her brother will be. But I also kinda don't care because I'm sick of making the effort to be there for her when she's not making any effort for me.

So would I be the asshole if I pulled out of the wedding of my friend of 30 years?

What are these acronyms?

[neonpaperlanterns]

Transformers prime story request.

The vehicons are the decepticons storm troopers, treated like nobodies and abused by their commanders every so often.

So... How about a story where one seeks to leave the decepticon life. Posing as a regular car at a car sale. This vehicon figures some time among Humans will be just what he needs. Having changed paint jobs and removing any trackers in him. He hopes to just... Enjoy "human watching", seeing what their lives are like.

He ends up bought by Jacks' mother sometime before she and her son knows about the transformers. And slowly ends up caring about her as he poses as her car. Enjoying the little things of his new life.

... And then her son brings home Arcee and the series ticks off from there.

A "normal" life

T-34B watched as humans mingled around him. Idle chatter filled the parking lot as different fleshy servos brushed along his alt-mode. Grumbled words of distaste and disinterest bounced around in his helm.

Had he picked a bad color? He thought the light blue was good but maybe he was wrong.

Did he look too worn down? He thought if he looked too new that he'd have less options but maybe he was wrong.

Was his model wrong? His research said that VW Beetles were decent cars but maybe he was wrong.

Should he have gone flashier? Sleeker? Been red? Maybe if he-

"How bout this one?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. There was a female human standing in front of his hood. Looking at him. Judging him. As subtly as he could he tried to push out his plating, air up his tires, and catch the sun just right so he looked as presentable as possible.

And it seemed to be working until a shorter and what seemed to be younger human butted in.

"Looks like an old man." The boy stated which was hurtful, he thinks. T-34B knew he wasn't the best or the brightest or even that standout but he didn't look that bad right?

Right?

"Don't be mean Jack I think that gives it character." T-34B was full of character, the lady gets it. Jack rolled his weird organic optics but shrugged.

Which T-34B would later learn was a seal of approval. Sort of.

Being driven through the streets of Jasper was weird. It felt wrong not to be in control of himself. He had to stifle every little desire to take the wheel or change the radio station.

He liked Earth's music but he wasn't a fan of the genre of 'Country'. It sounded too similar to him. As the songs blurred together into one noise it just reminded him of staring at the countless versions of his face. He did not like it. But he did not change it because cars didn't do that.

Pulling into what would be his new home he tried not to feel cramped inside the garage. He told himself that it was cozy and really far better than what he had back on the Nemesis. Because it was, anything was better than the Decepticon ship. Even a tiny garage and fleshy organics who weren't careful with sugary fluids were better than what he came from.

He'd have thousands of drinks spilled in his cab before he ever regretted leaving.

.

.

Life with the Darby's was simple. He learned the woman's name was June and that she was Jacks carrier or mom as the teen called her. He learned what a teenager was too.

He discovered that June was a nurse and that Earth's hospitals were not that different to the ones that once operated on Cybertron. At least from the outside looking in.

They didn't drive him many places. Mostly June's job, Jack's educational center, a place called WinCo Foods, and building with a bright neon sign that read Jasper Bowlarama. He did not know what a "Bowlarama" was but the Darby's always seemed happy after coming and he got to see lots of humans doing human things so everything was good

T-34B was staring to like when the unit he drove around were happy. He liked the talks he got to overhear. Like how Jack was doing in chemistry and that he was thinking of trying out for football. Which his mother didn't seem fond of and countered with going for band instead. He liked when June had a long shift and could barely drive, it gave him the chance to repay her by getting her home safely.

He liked that randomly June decided to give him a name. Apparently naming cars what just a thing humans did. She suggested Nancy because that had been the last vehicles name and the one before that so it just made sense.

T-34B dreaded being named after another.

But Jack interjected unknowing on his behalf. Said he didn't look like a Nancy.

He agreed.

Instead sighting that he looked more like a Buggy or Ozzy.

June picked Ozzy.

.

.

When Jack came back with a motorcycle June had lost her mind but gradually came around.

Ozzy had also lost his mind and was still currently losing it. For one he had to share his garage now. For two he felt like he was losing Jack. The teen didn't need him now because of that death machine. And for three and technically most important that was a FRAGGIN Autobot!

Oh Primus he was slagged. He was so slagged. His only saving grace was that the Bot hadn't realized he wasn't just a beetle and that almost immediately after June left Jack and the Bot began arguing.

He learned the Bot was Arcee. He's never encountered the Femme before but he's heard about her. Quick tempered and a 'shot first ask questions later' type. She's offlined hundreds of vehicons and now he was stuck sharing space with her.

Oh Ozzy was so slagged.

[hsslilly-blog]

death. this might be personal but i wanted to write down my thoughts somewhere.

my brother died on tuesday. he was getting better and things were looking good but after a procedure he went into cardiac arrest and he died. we buried him yesterday. getting to bury another brother was very weird. getting to bury another relative in such a short period of time was very weird. i often joke about me being cursed with death. i am not a superstitious person. i have no religion. still, i often wonder. why? obviously, it’s all coincidental, and life is just like that, but why my life is like that? it could be anything else, why is it like this?

i’ve never had a very close relationship with my step-brothers since i’m from my father’s second wedding, and things were not very… amicable for some time. besides, they were in their late teens when i was born, so we didn’t get to grow up together. i was really close to one of them, though, and he passed when i was four years old. most people think children that young don’t remember things, and that they don’t remember death either, but that’s not true. in my case, i’ve also been plagued with a very good memory. if you’ve ever talked to me, know i remember every word you said. i remember everything about my childhood, and i remember everything about my brother. and i’ve missed him every day of my life since april 2006. i’ve never told anyone about this. we don’t speak of him in my household. i got to see his grave for the first time yesterday. his birthday was on july 16th, two months and a day after mine. we thought that was funny. i was the last person he had talked to before he got in an accident. he loved playing princess with me. he called me lala.

the only other person in my life who still called me lala was my oldest brother. he died on tuesday. we had grown closer in the past few years. after my mother and my grandmother passed, he was maybe the only person in my life i could rely on. i knew he would always be willing to help me or our dad. i feel so alone now. the last time i talked with him was on october 31st. after the car crash. i don’t regret not seeing him in the hospital. i can’t stand hearing those machines after my mother passed. and he told me he was okay with that. i saw him yesterday and it was weird. it was such a stupid death.

i don’t have a bad relationship with death. after writing all this, this might sound funny. but i really don’t. it’s part of life and it’s all around us. fun fact, i live right next to a cemetery. my mother and i used to walk through it when i was a child. we always talked about it. dying, i mean. i knew what she wanted me to do when she died, and i did everything as she had desired when it came the time. on june 27th, i knew she was going to die the next day. she had been in a coma for over a month at that point. i’m not superstitious, but i told her to wait for me. i was going to be there at noon. i wouldn’t be late. she died at 12:03pm, june 28th 2022. it was the worst day of my life. she was my best friend. she’s still everywhere i go.

i just wanted to put this somewhere. i haven’t really talked about this with anyone since tuesday. death and grief have always been very present in my life and i often think about it. getting to see my brother’s grave for the first time yesterday, and then burying another brother alongside him made me… thoughtful. i know life will move on. it has before and i always will, and that comforts me. it’s just a weird moment in my life i guess. being here distracts me. so.

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 18

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Masterlist

"What are you doing up and answering the door, Maxwell? Have you gone mad?"

"Ben?" June said, frozen in place while looking at the man in front of her.

"You should be resting, you had surgery a few days ago. C'mon" he said, lifting her in the air and carrying her to the sofa.

"Ben!" she laughed. "I can walk, you know?"

"I know you can, but you shouldn't."

"The doctor said I could move around the house. He actually encouraged it."

"Well, Dr. Chilwell doesn't agree with that. Is that comfortable?" he asked after leaving her on the sofa and putting some cushions behind her back.

"It's ok."

"Now?" he said, sitting down next to her and putting her legs on his lap, the injured one on top of another cushion.

"Now it's perfect" she smiled. "Thank you, Ben."

"You're welcome" he smiled back. "How is it going?" he asked, his fingers caressing her thigh but never getting close to the bandage. 

"I'm managing to not bore myself to death and it isn't hurting too much, so we can say that so far so good."

"Good, that's good. Is that how you are getting yourself entertained?" he said, nodding towards the table in front of them.

"Yep" June smiled. "I used to knit and crochet when I was a kid, my grandma taught me. The other day when she came to visit me she brought me some yarn and said that I could give it another go, so now I'm planning on making the girls some beanies for the winter."

"Can I get one too?" Ben asked with a cheeky smile.

"Seeing you wearing a beanie I myself made would be a dream come true to be honest, because no one wears them like you do. You look so freaking good." 

"I think this is the first time someone has complimented me by saying I look good wearing a beanie" he laughed.

"It is what it is" June shrugged. "Thank you for coming, by the way. And for the flowers."

"Did you like them?" 

"I loved them."

"Is that why you posed with them?" he asked.

"It was one of the reasons."

"May I ask what were the others?"

"Well, I… I wanted to you to see them to show you that I still think about you. That I regret everything that happened that day between us and after."

"You mean when you slept with Mason."

"Yes. I'm sorry, Ben" June whispered, looking down. "I'm surprised you are here, to be honest. I thought you would be mad at me and act as if I didn't exist like he is doing."

"Oh, I was mad. When he told me what had happened I got so angry… We both were angry. I don't know how we didn't end up hitting each other if I'm honest."

"That bad it was?" she asked.

"Yep. But then we cooled down, talked about everything properly, and things have kind of gone back to normal between us."

"Kind of?"

"He doesn't understand why I've forgiven you" Ben shrugged.

"You… you have?"

"I have, yes. I spoke with Lauren and she explained everything to me. About your ex, about how he broke your heart, and about how all that has affected you. That made me understand you a bit better, and even though I still am disappointed about what you did with Mase… I don't know. I can't be mad at you anymore."

"That kind of is what happened to me when you explained why you bullied me. Once I knew the reasons behind it, hating you was more difficult" June said with a shy smile.

"We can't change the past, but we can work on not making the same mistakes again."

"Yeah" she whispered. 

"Anyway, I brought you a present" Ben said, giving her the bag he had been carrying.

"You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to. Open it" he smiled.

"Ok" June said, sitting up. Why were her hands shaking so much? Why was she so nervous? "Chilwell!"

"Do you like it?"

"A Kinder egg the size of my head? Of course I like it!" she laughed. 

"Just try not to eat it all in one go, ok? I want you at the World Cup."

"Do you think I'll make it?"

"I already said it on the note that I sent you, June. If there is someone who can make it, that's you" he said, giving her thigh a little squeeze. 

"Thank you, Ben. For everything. The flowers, the note, the egg, coming here today… And for forgiving me after I fucked up. Big time."

"Of course" he smiled. 

"Can I give you a hug?"

"Won't you hurt yourself?" 

"Maybe… I guess you'll have to come here and hug me" June shrugged, biting her lip to avoid smiling.

"Ok" Ben chuckled, laying down next to her on the sofa and hugging her from behind. "Are you comfortable like this?" he asked, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"Very" June replied, interlacing her fingers with his. "Just don't let me fall, ok?"

"Never. I've got you, Maxwell." Now and always, Ben said to himself.

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

Death of a Hero

Genre: angst, pure angst

A/N: this piece was written for Day 12 of June of Doom ( @juneofdoom, ) using the prompts "I can't stand seeing you like this" and "Grief". This one-shot is set in an alternative BG3 universe where Gale and Astarion both ascended, and Summer and Arwen are left to deal with the consequences of it. @wolfhunter89 and I came up with this idea together months ago, so I want to dedicate this to her. This scenario is mostly seen by Arwen's point of view and it generally focuses on the impact that Gale's choice had on Summer. There is so much more I want to write for this alternative universe, so keep your peepers peeled (something else might come out this month, just saying👀)

Arwen had never minded the quiet. Life could be so chaotic and loud that oftentimes she'd found herself searching for those rare moments of silence. They comforted her. Gave her a moment to just... exist. With the kind of life she conducted, she often found herself desperately wishing for even just a few minutes where she could enjoy the peace and quiet. And oh, especially after meeting Summer. The tiefling was always so full of crackling energy ready to burst at any moment! And if it couldn't manifest through actions, then it would manifest through words. So many words. For almost ten years Arwen's life had been filled with adventures and mishaps and chaos, all by Summer's side. She could clearly remember all the times she had looked forward to the night's arrival, so that she could bask in the nocturnal quiet.

She regretted all of them now.

There weren't many certainties in Arwen's life, but if there was something she was absolutely sure of it was that, no matter what happened to her, she could always turn to Summer and find the strength to go on. It had happened a year before, when she had finally realized how fucked up her entire relationship with Leon was. Summer was there, with a toxic relationship of her own, and with a clear solution in mind. A solution that had inevitably become Arwen's own ticket to freedom. It had happened even years before that, when her entire life still revolved around settling the score she had with her father. When the world as they knew it was ending, when her body had to go through the most horrifying ordeal and she could do nothing to stop it, when their friends were dying left and right no matter how hard they had been trying to save them... Summer was there. And Arwen knew not all was lost.

She would've done anything to be able to look at Summer in that moment and feel that way again. Like a new chapter was waiting for them. She had never thought there would come a day when she would be desperate to have all that noise around her again, and yet there she was wishing for just that.

Instead, the house sat quiet in the little forest, and her friend sat at the kitchen table with a now rather cold mug of tea in front of her. Her eyes trained on an empty spot in the living room, but with an unfocused and far away look to them. Arwen couldn't remember a single time when they had made a habit of drinking tea together. It had always been beer or some other kind of alcoholic beverage that kept them company while they talked, be it about the good stuff or the bad stuff. But Arwen knew her tiefling companion... and the last thing she needed at that moment was to get wasted.

The conversation had come to a halt something like twenty minutes earlier. No topic had seemed to stick as Arwen tried to distract Summer, take her mind off of things. She opened her mouth in an attempt to come up with something, anything to break that damned silence, but she closed it again when she drew a blank, defeated. Even looking at her friend was becoming a difficult task with how... broken she looked. So she let her gaze wander.

Looking around in that moment, Arwen thought of how ironic it was that the house she was sitting in was the type of place she had always imagined Summer would end up living in, before they left for Faerûn, and that yet she couldn't think of a place that was more ill-fitting for her friend in that very moment. The woman that had wanted to move in a house such as that had been gone for a long time, replaced by a woman that had a bright future in mind, to spend by the side of her beloved.

Her beloved.

Jaime had hurt her deeply in the past, drained her of all her energy and cheerfulness. Arwen knew Summer didn't like the person she was when she was with Jaime, but it still had taken her six years to finally leave for good. It had been the best decision she had taken in a long time. Jaime had hurt her, but Summer was better off without him.

Why couldn't Gale be like Jaime? Why couldn't he have been just another failed relationship? A stepping stone towards something better?

Why did he have to be the love of Summer's life?

She had never shined brighter than when she was by his side, and the wizard had somehow restored a part of her that she had thought lost forever. Summer was ready to marry him once their last adventure was finally over, and Arwen was sure that at some point he had been exactly on the same page as her, but somewhere along the way things simply... went wrong. Horribly wrong.

Up until that point Arwen had had no idea it would be possible to grieve the loss of someone who wasn't even dead, but there was Summer, doing just that. The half-elf still couldn't believe Gale would just... leave her behind like that. Didn't he love her? But then again, that was a stupid question, coming from Arwen.

With a sigh she got up from her chair and sat down by Summer's side, placing an uncertain hand atop hers. “... I thought about putting an altar in that empty spot, when I moved in. An altar. Me. I hate the Gods more than I can possibly say and yet I was ready to welcome one in my home. I should fill up that empty space with something else and yet I can't bring myself to do it.” She finally said, almost startling Arwen, who had grown accustomed to the silence hanging heavy in the room.

“I won't build an altar, but I won't dedicate that spot to anything else either. I can't let it go. I can't let him go. I want to see him so badly at times... but then I remind myself that the man I want to see no longer exists. Somehow that hurts more than if he was dead and buried. At least then I would still know he loved me. I would have a body to cry over. What do I have now? Nothing but the hole he left in me when he chose that stupid crown over me. I hate him Arwen, I hate him so much... and yet I still love him to death and it's killing me slowly with every breath I take.” Her voice wavered and cracked as she spoke, letting her sickening feelings pour out of her like a thick syrup. Each word was like a stab to Arwen's already shattered heart.

“Summer, you've gotta react, please. I can't stand seeing you like this.” She pleaded with her companion as she gently squeezed her hand, trying to tear her eyes away from that goddamn spot in the living room. Gale, or whatever the hell he wanted to be called now, didn't deserve to have so much of Summer's energy dedicated to the thought of him. Not after what he had done. “You are a hero, for Hell's sake, you fought against the Prince of the Abyss and came out on top! You survived countless impossible encounters and not one, but two apocalypses! You won't let this drag you down. I won't allow you.” Arwen knew it was a useless attempt, but she still tried to rile Summer up, to give her some kind of pep talk or something, like she had done for her many times in the past... but her friend only let out a humorless chuckle.

“I'm sorry Arwen. I know you are hurting too...” She said as she slowly got up from her chair. “But the hero you speak of is gone. I actually don't think she ever existed to begin with. Because if she did, Gale would still be here with me and I wouldn't be... whatever the fuck this is.” She vaguely gestured to herself with those words as a look of contempt appeared on her face. Arwen couldn't help but let out a huff.

“So what, you are going to rot in here for the rest of your days? No more traveling? No more adventuring?” She felt like a hypocrite, asking her friend these questions when she herself had been holed up in her home for the past few months with the sole exception of visiting Summer every now and then.

On her side, Summer knew that Arwen was trying her best to be there for her while simultaneously trying to keep herself sane, so she felt no anger or annoyance for her words. She just wished she didn't have to be seen like this by her, but there was no way Summer could even attempt to act normal.

“I really don't think I have it in me anymore, bud...” She gave her a very tired smile that didn't reach her eyes at all as she slowly walked towards her bedroom. “I'm sorry, but I feel so tired... I need to sleep...”

With that, Arwen knew the conversation was officially over. She watched her friend drag herself to her room and then she got up, ready to leave and yet not wanting to go home and face the deafening silence once more. Up until that point Arwen had had no idea it would be possible to grieve the loss of someone who wasn't even dead, but there she was... doing just that. Grieving the loss of the friend she once knew, the version of herself that she was when she fell in love... and her beloved.

Her beloved.

How could things go so horribly wrong?

[freelanceexorcist]

I tagged one of my moots, but is it OK if I complete this myself? No? Too bad, I did.

FFVII spoilers and absolutely obnoxious length under the cut.

Character: Sephiroth, Compilation of FFVII and FFVII Remake trilogy

Do you project onto this character?

Not that I’m aware of.

2. Did you always like this character?

I discovered FFVII not long after Crisis Core came out, so I was late to the party. I was more into his aesthetic at first, but after taking in CC, I really went off over the complexity of the character. Back then, a lot of Big Bads in the media I consumed were straightforward villain types who were just there to menace everyone and be defeated at the end without much development. He was among the first antagonists I encountered who deployed the duality of being a bad, bad man who used to be a good one until he crossed a line he couldn’t easily come back from.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Not gonna lie, it was how he looked at first.

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

No.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

I think I would. I like well-rounded and complex characters. One of my other favorite characters is June Osborne from The Handmaid’s Tale (show canon). She’s a good person deep down and is nurturing to those who need her help, but when it comes to Gilead and its architects, she is ruthless to the point of being terrifying at times. She started out as someone who just wanted to go along to get along, both before and after the fall of the US, and life turned her into a badass.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

I distinguish between the two apparently separate versions in the Remake trilogy as Glenniroth and Jenovaroth. Does that count? I also refer to teenage Sephiroth as Baby Seph.

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

No.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

Absolutely. How can it not? He’s absurdly beautiful.

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Not really. I’ll have to think about that.

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

I’m nowhere near that awesome.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Same way you fall in love in real life. You see someone and you’re like “damn.” Then you get to know them better and you’re theirs for life.

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

As a matter of fact, I have an AU fic in the planning stages that works on the premise that he is removed from the library before he snaps but not before learning a thing or two about his past that really pisses him off. Vincent will be involved in this, but I’m not sure how yet. Because he doesn’t snap and burn Nibelheim, Shinra does it for him.

Professor Hojo’s plan all along was to destroy the town, imprison the survivors and experiment on them, and that’s why he got there so quickly and was seemingly immediately ready to get started. Anyone else in the town would be killed to keep them from telling anyone what they witnessed. He wanted Sephiroth to lose it and do what SOLDIERs do best and destroy shit. When that didn’t happen, he had to improvise and call in a strike team to get the job done (with President Shinra’s blessing of course). The cover story would be that the town was attacked by monsters that were infecting the villagers and the attack was the equivalent of the army nuking a city to contain the zombie apocalypse. With deepest regret, we must announce that our beloved Sephiroth was lost to us in this attack.

Sephiroth’s lack of mental break and survival was a lucky break for Hojo, because he would be able to get his S-cell samples directly from the tap. So orders were given to take him down, severely wounding but not killing him, which would make him easier to handle. He’s ridiculously strong and fast, but he’s not immune to nor can he dodge bullets.

So truss him up, stick him in a mako tube and give him a cocktail of drugs that act as a sort of Lotus Eater Machine where he’s stuck inside his head living the life he though he would have lived if he had successfully deserted from Shinra. It would keep him docile because he would think it was real. But as with any similar scenario, he would eventually realize that none of it is real and that would snap him out of it. He’d bust out, find Zack and Cloud on his way out the door and off they’d go, but not back to Midgar. Zack would head there, but Sephiroth would take Cloud north because he heard that the healers up there know how to alleviate mako poisoning.

Yeah, it’s a work in progress…

At this point, I was thinking of having Sephiroth as the protagonist who travels the world along with other characters he scoops up along the way and Aerith as the deuteragonist in Midgar with Zack, Tifa and Avalanche. Eventually the two groups would meet up.

It’s going to be a series of multi-chapter stories patterned after the “seasons” of a TV show, and each chapter being the “episodes” connected by a story arc. I don’t know how many there will be yet, it will end when I run out of story to tell.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

Probably scenes from the premise described above.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

How can you not be? He’s a total smokeshow.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Mix of both, but mostly on the non-sexual end of the spectrum.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

No. Not yet, anyway.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

No.

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

Oh, both, but with peace being the ultimate outcome no matter what happens.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

Definitely.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

I’ll have to think about that one.

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

Familial toward Baby Seph. I just want to kidnap this kid, send him to school, encourage him to make friends and play video games while I make him lots of pasta as my army of robot snipers protects him. Eat some more pasta, Baby Seph, you look thin.

I suppose my feelings toward the adult version are platonic even though I find him ridiculously attractive. I don’t imagine myself with him, but when I get the occasional hankering for seeing him paired up, I’m partial to Sephiroth/Aerith, maybe Sephiroth/Genesis if the canon dynamics are preserved and I’ve even seen Sephiroth/Tifa done very well.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

It certainly seems that way now. I’ve loved him since 2007 or so even with very little new content and I seriously doubt there will be no new content after the trilogy ends because Square Enix can practically print their own money thanks in part to him.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

If that’s a way of saying I’ve got permanent Sephiroth brain rot, then yes.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I can’t say I have. I don’t dream much and when I do it’s usually about me and my mom fighting. They say dreams about dead loved ones are them coming back to visit, and it’s just like her to use the opportunity to give me a hard time.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

Gen fics, but the occasional pairing as well. I’m partial to ones that take place pre-Nibelheim and show the “slice of life” scenarios with or without the rest of the Himbo Holy Trinity or Zack. AU fics where Nibelheim is averted and his life goes in a different direction. AU fics where he does do a Face-Heel Turn but works with various other main characters because he’s acting out of Enlightened Self-Interest (the fic Epiphany on AO3 does a great job of portraying him this way but unfortunately it appears to have been abandoned by the authors).

I tend to avoid the ones where he’s portrayed as the usual monstrous villain. I can get that from canon and I haven’t seen many where the author goes outside the lines.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

Sephiroth Needs a Hug, Sane Sephiroth, AU, Alternate Timeline are usually included. I exclude many of the pairings, but only because it makes for more efficient scrolling when gen fic is what I’m most interested in. I don’t bother to exclude the rare ones for that reason, because there aren’t many of those.

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

When I get a yen for it, I’m partial to Sephiroth/Aerith. I’ve even seen Sephiroth/Tifa done very well. I could even get into a Sephiroth/Original Character ship if the OC is an actual functional character and not an obvious self-insert. Nothing against that, I’m just a little allergic because of all the blatant Mary Sues running around back in the day.

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Sometimes, but I keep it to myself. It’s just aggravating when people seem to deliberately misread him and act personally offended when he gets any kind of character development because they want to stay forever mad at him for killing Aerith. Like, any new developments for him don’t negate the existence of the original game, folks. I don’t even bother checking if anything on TV Tropes gets updated regarding him, because that place is crawling with those types. And don’t even get me started on those people who accuse you of Draco in Leather Pants-ing him anytime they see a take that isn’t “he’s evil and I hate him!” And then there are the folks who feel the need to point out his bad deeds any time they see a fan gushing over him. We all saw the same media, chief, we know what he did. Do you want us to call 911 over it?

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

Sometimes.

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

A little bit, but I keep that to myself as well.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

HELL no. I wear my Sephiroth brain rot like the Medal of Honor.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Shrimp scampi. I hear he likes seafood and pasta. I’ve also heard that if you and someone else both eat something with a lot of garlic, you won’t smell each other’s garlic breath. If we have to shack up until we could sound the All Clear on the breath front…

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

Mass murder aside, I embrace his flaws. Flaws make for a well-rounded and complex character.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

The opposite happens, actually. You know those posts I make sometimes where I have Sephiroth losing his shpadoinkles not because of anything he read in the library but because he finally had enough of That Fuckwit from Field Services’ emails and Teams messages and ridiculous demands? All of those have happened in my professional life. If you hear about a small town in Southwestern Pennsylvania burning to the ground*, it’s because I stopped writing posts like that.

*No, I would never do something like that in real life. Most likely not. The fate of hundreds is in your hands, Fuckwit from Field Services.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

Nah, thinking about the plot bunnies hopping through my head that were inspired by him is my melatonin.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

No, I tend not to do that with fictional characters, even ones I’m as obsessed with as Sephiroth.

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

Yes, but mostly because no one I know in real life knows who the hell he is. Most of them have heard of Final Fantasy, but that’s about as far as it goes.

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

Neither. I mostly joke about him losing his shit because of fictional versions of one or two incredibly aggravating and demanding work colleagues. For the sake of me continuing to receive a paycheck and staying out of prison, this will be my outlet when Janice and Keith are on a roll.

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

No, he’s not real.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Yes, definitely.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

I don’t consume much Sephiroth/Reader content, but I’ll have to check it out. As for OCs, the story I’m thinking about will have three prominent OCs and yes, they will also be products of Project S. In my idea, there were originally 10 S-types including Sephiroth. Two of them didn’t survive infancy and four were lost in various battles during the war. The remaining three are scattered to the four winds when the story starts. They and Sephiroth are connected in a way that they can sense each other but can’t pinpoint a precise location. I’m playing with the idea of a romance between him and one of them, but whether that gets included depends on how it will enrich the plot or move it forward.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

I suck at poetry or songwriting, but get me speculating about something related to him or his place in the story and I could go on for hours.

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Hot weather, because I HC that he doesn’t like it. Which made me come up with the following scenario of the Himbo Holy Trinity and Zack goofing off on a message forum one day:

Angeal: Seph, you need to take a vacation. How about a few days in Costa del Sol?

Sephiroth: Too hot.

Zack: hot damn…

Angeal: And my band ‘bout that money, break it down

Genesis: Girls, hit your hallelujah

Zack: Woo!

Sephiroth: *posts video of Uptown Funk* And if I have to have that song in my head for the rest of the day, so do all of you.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

Hm, I haven’t thought about that.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

A little. Enough that I can recognize subtle things about him.

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

Not upset so much as aggravated. Some takes seem so deliberately bad that it’s so obvious they’re comically exaggerating his bad traits just so they can continue to hate him for killing Aerith.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

@rottenpumpkin13 ’s takes on his and the boys’ shenanigans sure have me laughing out loud most of the time!

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

I love the Remake trilogy’s design for him. Everything about it is just *chef’s kiss*

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

Pre-library, the way he showed such kindness and protectiveness to the people whose safety he was responsible for. The look on his face after he failed to save that security officer and the way he shook his head after he put the mission on hold to look for him and had to report that he wasn’t found was heartbreaking.

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

This song really makes me think of him. I deliberately chose the Limp Bizkit cover over the original version from The Who because the cover adds a new verse that I think describes him very well (apologies in advance for any unskippable ads).

No one knows what it’s like to be mistreated

To be defeated

Behind blue eyes

No one knows how to say that they’re sorry

And don’t worry

I’m not telling lies

But a verse from the original that isn’t in the cover fits as well

If my fist clenches, crack it open

Before I use it and lose my cool

If I smile, tell me some bad news

Before I laugh and act like a fool

If I swallow anything evil

Put your finger down my throat

If I shiver please give me a blanket

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

Oh, and did you know that Behind Blue Eyes was originally written as part of a rock opera Pete Townshend wrote after Tommy? It was called Lifehouse. There were a few live shows at the Young Vic Theater, but the project was eventually aborted and some of the songs from it ended up on other albums. Behind Blue Eyes was on Who’s Next.

In the rock opera, the song was sung by Jumbo, the main antagonist, a dictator who tightly controlled the entertainment that the public consumed, and rock and roll was considered barbaric. The hero was the leader of a resistance group who embraced rock and roll and tried to push it to the masses.

Behind Blue Eyes is sung by the antagonist when he realizes that he’s seen as the villain when up until that point, he though his intentions were good. It’s described as a first-person lament.

Sound like someone we know? Sure it does.

Anyway, this is more than long enough. Thank you for sticking around if you’ve made it this far and I hope the rest of your day/evening is peaceful.

[anabellapenrose]

FULL NAME: Anabella Penrose

FACECLAIM: Levy Tran

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE + BIRTHDAY: 39, 15th of June

LENGTH OF TIME IN FAIRFORD: 20 years

HOUSING: Own apartment in Downtown.

OCCUPATION: Tattoo artist at Ink studio.

PERSONALITY: + responsible, intelligent, polite, honest - impatient, stubborn, impulsive, picky

DIGGING DEEPER  

“What’s it like, living in Fairford? Did you ever picture yourself settling down here or did you always know this would be your home?”

"It's been years since I came here - 20 to be precise. I just want to tell that this town helped me so much in the ways I couldn't imagine. I like everything about this town : people, food, my job. It's been amazing so far and I definitely see myself retired here in 20+ years.

“If you could recommend one hidden gem around town everyone should try, what is it? What makes it so special?”

"Well, for me that would definitely be Gardens of Japan. It's amazing experience and I would recommend it for every new person who comes in town.

“What’s your family like? Are you still close, or have you blocked all their numbers?”

"My daughter is with me as she is 20 years old. I have connections with my parents, we are mostly video chatting. I have also one brother and one sister who I am talking to on almost daily basis.

“We’ve all had our fair share of shit hit the fan and moments in the sun — tell me about a defining moment in your life, good or bad.”

"The best moment of my life definitely was when I had my daughter. I am so happy to have her, regredless the past I have with her father. Whoever says kids are not a real bless, they are so wrong. They really are."

BIOGRAPHY

Anabella was born in Los Angeles, with father Japanesse and mother who's American. Even back then, her father was the owner of Japanesse resturant he opened. They were doing quite well and Bella had quite peaceful and good childhood. Bella is the middle child and she was always close with her brother and sister. They were protecting each other all the time and share almost every secret they have.

Anabella was excellent during her school days and she was always showing how artistic she is. She was also playing the piano as well as dance classes. Bella was always a perfecionist and she liked to do things in the way they should be done. But that wasn't always the case, and to this day, Bella has indeed some regrets.

She met few years older guy when she was 18 and she fell for him so hard. He was very gentle and kind and she thought she is going to spend the rest of her life with him. How wrong was she. After some time, she found out that she was pregnant. Bella was over the moon, thinking how they will share the life. Then everything fell apart as she found out that he was married and had 3 year old son.

It crushed Bella's world and she thought she couldn't bare with that. Pregnancy wasn't the problem, her embarrassment was. She was the other woman he probably never loved. Bella then decided to have a life somewhere else, with her child on a way. She moved to Fairford. Bella is now living in Fairford for 20 years and she couldn't be happier. She has a beautiful daughter and works as a tattoo artist. Only thing that is bothering her is that he is going to find her. She had a good reason, but was it smart to not to tell him he became a father? Even though it's not like she is afraid of him finding out, it is called being conscious.

EXTRA

Place of birth : LA

Horoscope sign : Gemini

Sexuality : Bi

Likes : cigarettes, tattoos, coffee, tea, good wine, cocktails, sea, swimming, hanging out with friends, good food

Dislikes : liars, bad weather, lazy people, olives, crabs.

WANTED CONNECTION

ex

friends

friends with benefits

co-workers

[kennys-confessional]

08/11/2024

It has been a few days since I realized I wanted to write more. However, I need help bringing myself together to make it happen. It has been on the back of my head that it is something I want to do and things I want to write about, but I just need to figure out how to start or what is appropriate for me to write about.

It's been an eventful couple of days since Kat came back. I don't know if it's the passing away of my coworker or the conversation I had with Kat, where I have been slowly realizing that I need to experience life a little bit more. So, I have been trying to live my life to the fullest. I'm not being reckless, but I am being more open to conversations or day-to-day events.

It's best if I do a weekly recap. Monday the 5th was pretty uneventful. I went to work and covered for my friend during the afternoon shift, which was pretty chill. I watered plants and took out the trash. I got to be on my bench most of the day, and I felt that art block that happens when I am bored. My friend, Vel, had classes for the first time she was teaching, and she did a pretty good job. She is an excellent teacher, and she looked very excited. I was excited to see her work as well.

Now, Tuesday is the day I will see my Kat again since San Diego. (For context, we went to a conference in San Diego back in June, and she has traveled ever since; she is the owner of the studio I work at, the one who hired me for the summer internship; I worked for her once before in a winter event before she expanded the studio, and I meet her trough my professor soon to be another boss JT.) Yeah, so I got to the studio, I wanna say, towards the afternoon. I wake up pretty late in the summer, so I always get there late. And I saw her car. She was running up and down all day, and I was on my bench trying to figure out what to do and talking to Kat every little bit. I discovered that an old friend I didn't want to see anymore would be working there during the September mark. Anyway, around 5 or 6, my friend Pau got there with her mom (her mom will be taking classes for the next month in the studio), and while I and Pau were in the back, Kat told me that I should show her the research I had done during the time she was traveling. I did, and we had a very long conversation where I couldn't really find the words to express myself, and that's when Kat told me to start writing. We stayed in the studio until 9 or 10 and left. It was an odd day.

now, Wednesday was a very interesting day. I had written my first blog entry last night, and I had very fresh thoughts in my head. Anyway, I got to the studio, and Val was on her way out; there was also another visiting artist who is friends with Kat there working, so I was kind of left on watch-out duty for a while. and he came up to talk to me about the things I was working on, and we just started a nice, normal chatter. this conversation went on and on for 3 hours; it was a little insane that I talked with someone who I thought was very pretentious, haha. it was a very weird conversation, tho I don't really know why I was entertaining it, but it was really weird, and now I don't know how to feel about it. I don't mean it was a bad conversation or I felt uncomfortable but it was a very unprofessional conversation and a conversation I shouldn't have with someone I nearly even knew. anyway, I left a little early that day since my friends Gwen, Fernando, and Isaac wanted to go out to dance, and since I wanna live every day without regrets, I didn't say no, haha. well it was pretty boring I really hate when I go out at places like that cuz I really feel like I am such a normal person. I feel like I look like such a plain person that no one ever comes up to talk to me. It's a little awful. well, I was bored the whole time and my friends kinda annoy me since they wanted to go out to "emo night" but they never listened to emo music so they always wanna be outside and I really like the music but I also don't want to be the only one that's inside cuz that is just lonely. Anyway, that's going into too many personal things. so we went home, and I went to sleep and didn't write for the first time since starting.

The next day I also went to the studio, and late as always, so it was Thursday, which meant open studio hours, and more than likely, there was also a bunch of people coming in and out. Well, this Thursday was a special day since we had a visiting artist, Flaco had invited to have an informal talk with us, but I am getting a little ahead of myself. When I first got to the studio, it had a very awkward, tense vibe in it; having Kat back in the studio was a little hard. You always feel like you might do something wrong at any moment. Me and Pau slowly were able to get comfortable as time went on. Anyway, as 5 started to roll around, the artist Da'von (the only real name I am using) came to the studio, and we talked for a little while. The conversation we had with him made me feel a little more confident about what I am doing, and maybe when I am around the age he is right now, I could be in the same place as he is. After he left the open studio and so many people were there, I was talking so much this day. Another friend of Kat stopped by, and I talked with this man so much, too. I talk too much professional yapper.

Friday was pretty simple. I worked on some copper nails that will be turned into earrings soon, and Da'von was there again to finish working on some things. I was pleasantly surprised and happy he returned to work briefly before leaving for Dallas. I got to talk to him briefly, and he gave me a demo on casting. Seeing people like him working so hard and being successful makes me feel a little more happy with my life. I finished working and headed home.

Alright, Saturday, I decided to take an off day. I had been in the studio so many days I needed to get out. I went out with my best friend and her cousin to a lake, where I spent all day burning my skin and getting my clothes wet, but it was a lovely little recipe I needed. I didn't think of anything or have projects in my head that were everything I needed.

And now, I was supposed to go to church on Sunday, but I would much rather sleep all day. Haha, what a sinner.

I glazed over many things I was thinking about or nearly even touched on the topic, but these are things I need to explore on a deeper level when the thoughts come across without trying to force them.

[alba8688]

Love hurts

Chapter 51

Word count:1893

Authors note :this chapter is pure fluff so enjoyed

Eddie's graduation party was just how Dani imagined it .Eddie had so much fun and received so many gifts from everyone Diana was there as well with her fiancée and got to ask Dani to be her maid of honor ,she was getting married in December they wanted a winter wedding .

Dani was more than happy and she accepted jumping and screaming and there was crying as well .

Eddie and Diana's future Husband Levi  got along; he was a nice dude like Eddie would say .

They found out they both like Metallica and Eddie told him about the concert he was going to in August in Jersey .

He told him that Dani surprised him and how excited he was .

Levi even told him He had gone to some concerts himself and how fun it was .

Levi told Eddie about Dani in college and how crazy she was nothing compared to how she was right now .

"Did you know she was caught smoking pot in her dorm room ?" Levi told Eddie they're both gossiping like two girls .

"What ?! My Dani !" Eddie was flabbergasted; he couldn't believe his Dani was a bad girl .

"Yeah her ,Diana and Liam were in her dorm smoking pot after coming back from a party Dani was bad she even got arrested once ." Levi chuckled remembering his years in college with the girls .

Eddie didn't even know that side of Dani; he wondered why she never told him anything .

"Why did she get arrested ?" Eddie asked levi

"Well ,I don't know if I should tell you this ." Levi regretted instantly  telling him .

Because the night she got arrested she was drunk and high and was having sex with Liam in her car outside her college dorm.

"Umm ." Levi took a drink of his coke trying to avoid the conversation but Eddie was waiting patiently for his answer .

"Is it really that bad ?" Eddie asked him

"I don't know, maybe we'll look she was having sex with Liam in the backseat of her car  ."levi blurted out

"Oh ." Was all Eddie said then His uncle Wayne came to get him because he had a surprise for him.

Eddie totally forgot about what Levi had said when His uncle showed him what he got him as a graduation gift .it was a 1967 Shelby mustang, he wanted to surprise his nephew because he felt like the proudest uncle in the world with how good his nephew was doing in school .One day a coworker from the Hospital said there were selling a mustang but it needed a lot of repair .

So Wayne made it his purpose to fix that car and he did just in time for graduation .

He made it his goal he even asked his friend Roger that owns the mechanic garage in town if he could keep the car there and go fix it when he had time .

And that's what he did .

The party lasted till 3am, everyone having too much fun losing track of time .

Until Hopper reminded them that it was late that everyone had to go Home.

Well he didn't exactly say it like that but you know what I mean .

————-

June 9

Today was an exciting day for Eddie. It was going to be the first time he went to the doctors appointment  with Dani to see peanut for the first time ever.

He was excited and he wanted to cry. He didn't know if he could get the pregnancy symptoms as well but this morning when he woke up too sentimental he was crying for everything .

He even cried because there was no more toothpaste .

While Dani was showering Eddie found some old iPod  that belonged to Dani and he connected it to his speaker and he started crying when "I'll never break your heart ." Backstreet Boys started playing on his speaker.

Eddie knew this song because Steve would play it all the time when he and Nancy broke up .

And now that he is listening to it .It makes sense for him.

He started singing the lyrics with so much passion.

Dani could hear him through the bathroom walls. The walls in this trailer were so thin and she could hear Eddie singing and crying to the lyrics .

From the first day that I saw your smiling face

Honey, I knew that we would be together forever

Ooh, when I asked you out, you said, "No"

But I found out darling that you'd been hurt

You felt that you'd never love again

I deserve a try honey just once

Give me a chance and I'll prove this all wrong

You walked in, you were so quick to judge

But honey, he's nothing like me

I'll never break your heart

I'll never make you cry

I'd rather die than live without you

I'll give you all of me (give you all of me)

Honey, that's no lie (that's no lie)

I'll never break your heart (never break your hurt)

I'll never make you cry (I never wanna see you cry)

I'd rather die than live without you (baby, no, no, live without you)

I'll give you all of me

Honey, that's no lie

As time goes by you will get to know me

A little more better

Girl, that's the way love goes, baby baby

Dani got out of the shower drying herself, wrapping the towel around her body and walking out to check on her metalhead that was listening to romantic songs and crying laying down in the bed.

She open the room to their share room and was surprised to see his her metalhead laying down in bed looking at a picture of her in his phone singing to it .

And I (I) know you're afraid (know you're afraid)

To let your feelings show (feelings show)

And I understand but

Girl, it's time to let go (girl, it's time to let go because)

I deserve a try (try), honey, just once (once)

Give me chance (chance)

And I'll prove this all wrong (wrong you walked)

You walked in, you were so quick to judge (quick to judge)

But honey, he's nothing like me

Darling, why can't you see?

I'll never break your heart

I'll never make you cry (make you cry)

I'd rather die than live without you (I'd rather die than live without you, girl)

I'll give you all of me (give you all of me, baby)

Honey, that's no lie

I'll never break your heart (your heart)

I'll never make you cry (I'll never make you cry)

I'd rather die than live without you (die, can't live without you)

I'll give you all of me

Honey, that's no lie (I'll never break your heart)

I swear (Oh I, oh I, I swear)

No way, no how (I'll never break your heart girl, I'll never make you cry)

That's no lie

I'll never break your heart (break your heart, I would never do that to you)

I'll never make you cry (oh, just give me a chance and I'll show you show much I love you)

I'd rather die than live without you (I would die, rather die than live without you)

I'll give you all of me (I would give you the world)

Honey that's no lie

I'll never break your heart (I'll never, I'll never, I'll never, I'll never)

I'll never make you cry (I'll never, no, I won't)

I'd rather die than live without you (baby, honey, I'd never)

I'll give you all of me

Honey that's no lie (I want you, I need you)

I'll never break your heart

I'll never make you cry

I'd rather die than live without you

I'll give you all of me

Honey that's no lie

I'll never break your heart

I'll never make you cry

I'd rather die than live with you..

Dani found it cute and adorable .

After the song was finished Eddie stayed laying down looking at the picture of Dani and kissed it .

"I think I'm gonna have to fight with your phone for a kiss . '' she joked sitting in the bed next to Eddie .

"Sweetheart c'mere." He look at her with so much love ,he never thought he could

Love Someone this much .

Dani cuddled Eddie until it was time to leave to go see peanut at the doctors.

Dani pov

"Hello ,Miss.Henderson is nice to see you again ." Doctor Richards greets me ."This is my boyfriend Eddie ,the father of my baby ." I tell her ..

"Nice to meet you Eddie ." Dr.Richards smile politely to Eddie ,she has no idea who we are or the shit I was involved .I found a doctor in Indianapolis because the one in Hawkins didn't want me to be there patient anymore because of what I did telling me I had sinned for being with someone younger than me and a lot of other good things .."(sarcastically)

"Well I'm gonna lift up your shirt and I'm gonna put this gel on ,it's gonna feel cold ." Eddie sat beside me, his hand on mine, watching everything the doctor did ..the way she put the gel on my belly the way I winced when I felt the cold gel on my belly .

Eddie was watching everything making sure I was alright .

"Ok ,let's see how the baby is doing ." Dr.Richards told us to turning the screen our way .

"Are mom and dad going to want to know the sex of the baby ?" Dr.Richards asks, looking at the screen.

Eddie and I had decided that we were making a gender reveal of our baby with all of our family we wanted to find out at the same time .

"No,Eddie and I talked about it and we want to find out together with our family ."

"Ok,then after we are finished here I'll give you the envelope with the baby's sex  so you can give it to whoever you trust the most." This doctor was so sweet to us, unlike the one in Hawkins .

"Let's turn this up a little so you can hear your baby's heart ."

Thump thump thump

"Is that the heartbeat of peanut ?" Eddie asks, his voice shaky and his eyes glazed ,holding back the tears .

But I was a mess already since I heard the first thump of peanut's little heart. I was already crying. I couldn't believe it .

I turned to look at Eddie again ,he had tears trickling down his cheeks .

He leaned in pecking my cheek "we made that little baby sweetheart."

—————

"Can you believe we actually made A baby? That's crazy how something like that  came from my balls turn into a little tiny baby inside your belly  ."

"Jesus Christ Eddie just stop please ." I chuckle

"Well,i'm serious that little tiny thing went inside of you then it started forming into a tiny little

Human made by us by our love or our Hornyness."he wiggle his brows

"Baby ,I love you but please stop ." He was such a dork .

"So we are giving the envelope to Little Henderson and Steve ?" Eddie ask

"Yes we are, I trust them with my life and I know they will keep the secret from everyone even us until next weekend for the Gender Reveal."

Next chapter

[letmereadherbertwestfics]

W*A*L*T*E*R rewrite

Gary's was an odd place to choose to work. Who had ever heard of a diner having a pharmacy attached? Not only attached, but nothing separating the two. Take five steps away from the register and bar stools and you'd be in front of a wall of melatonin and cough syrup. To make matters worse, June was expected to run both halves of the place but only get paid for one job. 

It wasn't all bad though. An up side to the place was how quiet it always was. The only customers June had were teenagers looking for a milkshake or older men looking for pain killers and throat lozenges. She served maybe a dozen people a day, except for in the colder months when more people got sick and came in for a coffee, then June might get two dozen customers. The job was so low-stress and simple, she could forget about the small paychecks. At least for now. 

Today was no different from any other. June only had one customer in the store, an older woman who was too busy with the pinball machine to ask for her assistance with anything. She were trying to make yourself look busy by cleaning the counter for the fifteenth time today when someone else walked in, a short young man in a grey suit, who walked straight to the pharmacy counter in the back. 

June's eyes watched the bespectacled man as he walked towards the pharmacy, and stayed on him for a few seconds as he waited for assistance until she remembered that she was supposed to be the assistance. She quickly walked from behind the diner counter and to the pharmacy counter, smiling a customer service smile at the man.

"Good morning. How can I be of assistance?" June asked politely. 

The young man seemed to hesitate, a shy smile stretching across his face before he responded. "Oh, I'm just browsing, thank you." He said in a tone that suggested he was not just browsing. June noticed his hands were toying with a beaver brush, and she smiled as she motioned to it, 

"There's a special on those genuine beaver brushes. Buy one and get another for half off. They're good brushes too." She explained. 

"Well...did you ever see a beaver with unruly hair?" The man joked, his smile widening only for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked down, seemingly regretting making a joke. 

There was a pregnant pause before the man slowly put down the brush and began to turn away. "Well okay I'll see you around-"

"Hold on." June interrupted, making him stop in his tracks. "Didn't you want something from the pharmacy? That's why you came over here, right?"

"Oh well..." The man hesitated before continuing. "I'd like an overdose of sleeping pills. and a bottle of pain killers...sleeping pills give me a headache." 

June raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter now. "Okay...is there a reason that you need an overdose specifically?" She asked. The man didn't say anything verbally, but the look the man gave her was enough for her to understand perfectly what his attentions were. June stood up straight, lightly tapping the counter with her fist. 

"Oh, that reminds me...the pharmacist is out today. So I can't give out any prescription drugs." She lied, hoping this man didn't come here often enough to know June was the one who handled prescriptions when Mr. Dawson was out of town. And it seemed he didn't, from the way he deflated at this. 

There was another pause as June struggled to think of something to say. She was worried that if she let this man leave now, he would just go find another pharmacy to get what he wanted from. So, in an effort to get him to stay, she decided to ask him where he was from. 

"Your accent," She explained when he gave her an odd look. "You don't sound like you're from Missouri."

"I'm not, you'd be right about that. I'm from Iowa." He said, making June's smile get wider. 

"No kidding! That's where the cook over there is from." June told him, pointing to the diner half of Gary's. Then, June asked him what brought him to St. Louis. And that's how June got an explanation for why this man was looking for what he came in here for. 

"...Well I was on my Honeymoon. She ran out on me." He said, his voice small. He looked ashamed, clearly blaming himself for being left. It made June's heart clench, seeing him be so torn up about being left, and also knowing what he was going to do to himself as a result of it. Now she definitely didn't want him to leave, not until she knew that he wasn't going to put himself in danger at least. 

"I'm sorry to hear that...and I know it hurts, but I strongly suggest you don't go through with your sleeping pill plan." June said, reaching over the counter to put a hand on top of his. It was then that she noticed his left hand, where the fingers were much shorter than the fingers on his right hand. She quickly moved past that though, looking at the man.

His eyes were the size of dinner plates behind his glasses, but he made no move to pull away. Instead he just cleared his throat and continued talking. "Well then...what should I do?" 

"Follow me." June said before walking out from behind the pharmacy counter, and going back to the diner half of Gary's. The man sat on one of the bar stools, watching in fascination as June began to pour chocolate syrup into a glass before walking over to the ice cream machine. 

A few more seconds and the man had a milkshake in front of him, thanking June as she dropped a cherry onto the pile of whipped cream. 

"This is what I do when I need something to get me through the day." June explained as he took a sip, struggling with the straw at first before ditching it and drinking straight from the glass. When he pulled the glass away from his lips there was a dollop of whipped cream on his nose, making June smile. 

"It's great, thank you." He said, his hands fidgeting as he looked down at the counter instead of at June. "You didn't have to do this for me, but I thank you kindly." He said, his Midwest accent peeking through the more he talked. 

"I didn't, but I did. And I will, if you ever want to stop by here again." She offered, handing the man a napkin to wipe away the whipped cream that was still on his nose. 

The man's smile got bigger as he took the napkin, and right then June realized she and him were closer in age than she first thought they were. His suit and hairline made him look older, but really he couldn't be older than twenty-five. 

"I'll be sure to come by again soon. I don't think I'll be leaving St. Louis as soon as I thought." He admitted. 

"Then I'll look forward to seeing you again. Can I get your name?"

"Oh well I'm Ra- Walter. My name is Walter." He said, momentarily slipping over his words but quickly correcting himself. "And you are?" He asked, his smile becoming shy again. 

"June Sullivan." June said, holding out her hand for Walter to shake. 

[patches-bitsandbobs]

started: 10/10/2023: Giovanni's diary entries, from the 60's, all the way until he meets his new best friend in the 90's. (warnings for mentions of cancer and death)

196⬛, April (a doodle of a man wearing a beaten looking top hat is at the top of the page) Ben and his buds came in, absolutely sloshed out of their minds. Ben was wearing a stupid, torn up top hat. apparently the fair was packed, all kinds of different booths and little shops this time, which is nice to hear. he looks so ridiculous in it. he's gonna regret it tomorrow - don't think Ben thought ahead to take the day off. he never tends to.

196⬛, April I was right. poor fella looked greener than a pickle. apparently Nicole and the people at work laughed at him the entire time, which I don't doubt at all. decided to grant him mercy and let him nap here, though I don't think the counter was the best place for it. he seemed to appreciate it though. his friends came in later, and we all escorted him back home, and Nicole gave us cookies as thanks. saw the top hat on the table. says he's gonna keep it. they're a funny bunch.

196⬛, May (doodles of flowers litter one corner of the page) Bridget gave me some of her winnings from the fair today. some pins of characters I've never seen before, posters of TV shows, a really comfortable shirt. has a cat face on it. it's cute. I told her she didn't need to give me anything but she insisted, so I gave her cupcakes in return. glad to hear the rich didn't ruin the fair this year. I wish I'd gone. I always miss it when it's good.

197⬛, March a three legged dog keeps ransacking the bins behind the parlour. no idea how it even gets behind there. told Bertha about it. didn't see a collar, so maybe it's a stray? I hope it doesn't go into the forest.

197⬛, June Tala told me a joke that was so funny I laughed for 10 minutes straight. they wouldn't stop staring at me. I don't care. I needed that. now Ben won't stop calling me the "grinning chuckler". as if it's my fault she's so funny.

197⬛, June Jenny said Ben and Richy had an argument the other day, though she doesn't know about what. said she heard Richy make all kinds of threats toward him. that's scary. that man can do anything he wants with all the money he's got. when Ben comes in later, I'll ask if I can help with anything. we need to stick together.

197⬛, August it's like Ben just up and disappeared. he's been nowhere near the parlour, and the gang say they haven't seen him either. Nicole seems absent too, but Tala said she saw her in her house. it makes me nervous.

197⬛, October (the bottom of the paper is covered with doodles and scribbles of birds and dogs) Ben and Nicole still haven't shown up. not like them to dip without a word to anyone, especially Ben. I haven't even seen them out and about! I've been everywhere, searching and asking around, but no ones seen them. I'm worried.

197⬛, November Richie was in a better mood than usual today, which is never a good sign. was gloating and being more arrogant. seemed like he was celebrating something. I wish he'd drop dead already. it started raining after he left. call me superstitious, but I find that when it rains, it's never a good sign.

197⬛, November still no sign of Ben or Nicole, and now June seems absent too. what is going on?

197⬛, December not much happened today. still worried. all I've done is bake all day. made too many cupcakes. thankfully Bertha buys them in bulk, and Triston always stops by for one. I asked if they'd seen anyone. both said no. Bridget says she feels sick and that her legs feel numb. got a bad feeling about all of this.

197⬛, December (there are dried tear marks on the paper) Bridget is getting worse. can barely walk now, can't even leave the house. she keeps her door unlocked for visitors. she looks like she's on deaths door. she isn't even in her 70's yet.

197⬛, January (the margin is covered with doodles) a new year, a new scheme by the rich to try and petition replacing Kings Park for a bingo place again. I'm so glad they're not allowed to do as they wish; they have enough places that belong to them as is. we're lucky we even have the park.

197⬛, January (the margin is covered with doodles of cats and dogs) at least Richy isn't happy anymore.

197⬛, March I'm trying to help as much as I can; house cleaning, shopping, keeping her company. she's bed bound now. can't stand seeing Bridget like this. it's tearing me apart. Jenny helps here and there. we still haven't seen Ben or Nicole. where are they?

197⬛, April June dropped by! her and Jacob are planning for a baby! I'm so happy that living in a wretched place such as this doesn't put couples off from having families. she stayed for hours. wonderful to see her again. was worried something bad had happened to her. gave her cupcakes on the house. she and Jacob were studying about babies at the library, which, hey. at least they're going into the whole thing properly. I didn't even know they had those kinds of books.

197⬛, November Bertha said she caught the stray dog and gave it a bath! should be staying at hers until she can find it a new home. I would take it in but I'm not very good with animals. breaks my heart every time they go.

197⬛, December they haven't been to the parlour in weeks. not like them at all. Tala never misses Milkshake Monday, even when she's sick. I hope they didn't go looking for Ben, but a horrible feeling tel

(a few pages are messily torn out)

198⬛, June its started to rain really hard. been a while since it rained like this, probably decades, if I had to guess. I've been alive a long time at this point. I'm tired.

198⬛, June there's no doubt in my mind that they're all dead. haven't seen Jenny, Tala, nor Loid in months. still nothing of Nicole either. oh, Ben. if only you knew how much we loved you. we could have tried to help with whatever was happening. I wish you hadn't locked yourself away.

198⬛, July (the paper is covered in angry scribbles) I knew Richie had something to do with Bens disappearance. I knew he had something to do with the others. I knew it. lying, slimy bastard. we can't do anything about him. not like we can kill him, we'd be no better than that thing in the forest. wretched man. no idea what happened to Nicole, but I haven't seen her since all those years ago. no idea how she can stay away for this long - this town is so tiny, how is she staying off the radar? we at least know she isn't in the forest. that's at least a positive.

198⬛, February the stray dog Bertha caught a while ago both didn't find a home and managed to escape her place. for having three legs, it sure is quick! said it managed to outrun her and dip behind a fence. feisty little thing.

198⬛, june (there are dried tear marks on the paper) bridget is dead. cancer. she was struggling for years, finally got her. i am not a praying man, but i cant take this heartbreak any longer. i cant bear losing one more person. i have been alive long enough. i am not giving the forest the satisfaction, but all i beg is that something, anything, kills me. please. i want no more of this. i cant handle it anymore.

(a few pages are full of nothing but drawings; tree's, animals, scenery, and flowers)

198⬛, ju jacob visited. dropped off some flowers and a cake june made. that was nice of him. chest still hurts. need to reopen the parlour soon. can't sit around doing nothing all day.

198⬛, sep feeling a tad better, though not by much. it's still hard. i can't keep getting attached, but i can't help it. i made some pizzas and opened the parlour today. have to keep going, i suppose.

198⬛, March a monster walked out of the forest, a cat. turned out to be one of Bertha's rescues, no idea how she could even tell from under the tar. killed four people. was hard to down - a miracle we were even able to. leaked tar everywhere, can't clean it properly, too sticky and thick, none of us want to touch it, even with gloves on. nothing like this has happened before. it's all too sudden. hope that dog doesn't go in next.

198⬛, March a new rule was made, to catch, report, and eradicate anything that comes out of the forest on sight. easier said than done. of course it was devised by the old rich people, the same ones who won't want to deal with it themselves, so they make us do it instead. typical if you ask me. getting sick of it.

198⬛, December (the page is full of doodles of a three legged, spotted dog) I've named the stray dog Ruby. it's getting colder, and it breaks my heart to see her outside in this weather. she visits the bins all the time, and she trusts me enough to let me touch her. she's started coming inside the parlour with me, so I got a doggie bed, and she sleeps in it all the time now. looks like she's had three legs for a long time, but she doesn't look skinny or sick. I think she's a bulldog. have to ask Bertha. it's weird. something feels off about her, and I can't put my finger on why.

199⬛, March boxes have started showing up at the forests entrance. I'm not sure whats in them. no one wants to go near them.

199⬛, March some kids visited and gave me something? I'm not sure what the hell it is. it's weird and made of metal, and if you rotate the handle, the end of it twists? it looks like a whisk got shoved on to a pole, with some mechanical bits slapped on for good measure. they said they found it in those weird boxes. trust the youth to not give a fuck. just glad no monster jumped out at them.

199⬛, March the strange mechanical thing is exactly as I thought - a modified whisk. it's less strenuous than using your hand, makes the mixing a lot easier. I like it.

199⬛, March same group of kids came by and dropped off even more stuff from those boxes. there's all sorts of gadgets and gizmos! I can't wrap my head around them! one looks like a flat box that can flip open, while another looks like a brick! it sketches me out that these came from the forest, but the whisk hasn't turned on me yet, so these must be safe as well. it's not like the forest to be so kind without there being a twist.

199⬛, May (there are dried tear marks on the paper) JUNE HAD A BABY! HER NAMES ROXY!

199⬛, May (there are dried tear marks on the paper) Roxy is so tiny she held my hand she's so small compared to me I've never seen Jacob so happy they're gonna be great parents

(the writing is illegible, full of frantic gibberish and half crossed out sentences. only one word is solid) MONST ER

sep woke up on parlour floor. head hurts. maybe just a dream. ruby won't stop sniffing me.

(the page is full of crossed out words that are mis-spells. the face of a toothy blue rabbit is hastily drawn at the bottom) came back

wont leave sharp teeth eyes never blink scared im scared

sep (the page is full of garbled scribbles and swirls) top hat seems familiar why is it magic ???? all it does is stare at me where have i seen that hat before

(the bottom part of the page is torn)

199⬛, September (more drawings of a blue, toothy rabbit litter the page) so! there's a monster visiting my parlour now! and do you know what wasn't talked about in the agreement? WHERE TO GO WHEN THERE IS A MONSTER. WHERE DO I GO. WHO DO I GO TO ABOUT THIS. WHO DO I TALK TO TO GET THIS SORTED OUT. WHO'S IN CHARGE ABOUT THIS. WHERE DO I GO TO MAKE THIS STOP

(the bottom of the page is torn)

im going mad

199⬛, September well, at least the monster knows not to show up in the day time. still don't want it here at all. it said it's from the forest. still don't know what to do. at least it hasn't tried attacking yet. can't tell June, doesn't deserve the stress. don't know Triston well enough. don't think Bertha would want a sentient talking rabbit thing with the rest of her animals. would rather be killed than go to the rich. what do I do

sep is this my prayer finally answered? did the forest actually listen to me? if so, then why isn't it attacking? why is it biding its time? ive wanted this for so long. maybe it can kill me. i need to provoke it. why is it not attacking me. all it does is stare.

-----

Giovanni emotion speedrun

[barry-j-blupjeans]

"I don't understand what's- what's up with the four of you," the Chalice said through June's mouth. Barry's memories, which has previously been flicking by at a quick pace, had cut into a long period of static. "First your friends, and now you. I just don't get it."

"Don't look at me," Barry said. "I understand this about as well as you do."

The memories abruptly cut back to normal, aside from the faint static buzz around some scenes. Barry saw his college graduation, his mother's funeral, and the space class he took in high school. They ran by birthdays, holidays, and Barry's unfortunate emo phase in seventh grade. They went so far back that they hit the earliest memory Barry could recall at all: Coming downstairs for a glass of water and catching his mother crying.

"Okay," June said. "Alright, let's see."

The memories shot forward in time again and Barry saw flickers of the only school dance he went through and his first girlfriend and the time he spent all of winter break in the library instead of with family. They hit the period of static again and June began to slow the memories down. Going at this much more mellow speed, a few moments of static revealed simple memories.

Barry, sitting at a round table with staticky figures around him, enjoying a meal.

Barry, holding his wand up defensively.

Barry, crying with a staticky someone rubbing his back.

Barry, playing the piano, laughing at a joke, writing in a notebook, holding someone's hand.

The memories slowed to a complete stop. The one that formed around them flared and flickered, the static covering almost the entire scene. He could make out a bed, and something that was maybe a desk shoved into the corner. Memory-Barry was sitting up in bed, reaching for his glasses. In the midst of static, someone was standing halfway between the bed and the door.

"This, uh, this is your worst memory," June said. "Well, no, actually, not exactly. You have a lot of bad memories, Barry, this is just the one you regret the most."

"I have no idea what's going on here," Barry said, honestly. When he tried to remember it, he couldn't. He had gotten up in the middle of the night for loads of reasons before, but none of them would qualify as worst memories. "Is it like, a memory loss thing? Because I know I'm- I'm getting up there but I'm not that old yet."

"It's not an age thing," June said. "Like I said, everyone else was like that too. You've just got-" she gestured vaguely to the scene as if that would help Barry understand it. Then she shook her head. "Ya know what? Nevermind. It doesn't really matter. Look, we've run through your memories and this is the one you feel worst about. Are you tellin' me you don't remember it?"

"I mean," Barry said, trying to recall anything. Maybe it was all the static in the room, but there was a headache growing behind his eyes. He shut them, thinking hard.

When he opened them again, the scene was still staticky, but individual parts of the room stood out more. There definitely was a desk in the corner, and a tall dresser nearby. There were crumbled-up papers over the floor and Barry could recognize his portable radio, which came into crystal clear view as he remembered it.

And the person between the bed and the door- the woman, who was still shroud in static, but had come more into focus like he had slightly adjusted a camera lens- she...

"She's leaving," Barry said. "And she doesn't come back."

"Oh," June said. She tilted her head at the scene and the headache worsened as he tried to hold onto it. "I'll give ya this, Barry, you're friends certainly couldn't clear up their minds like this. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier."

"Kinda gives me a headache," Barry said, blinking away the static that started to crop up at the edge of his vision.

"This'll be quick," June said, cracking her knuckles. "I'm getting the vibes now. I'm gonna offer you a deal, Barry, and I just want you to hear me out. This person- this woman here-" June walked towards the woman, circling around her. "I don't think you know her very well right now, but she was... important to you, Barry. Much more than you or I can understand right now.

"This is your worst memory," June said. "And you've seen a lot of bad things. But her leaving and never coming back has to be the worse. So what I wanna offer you, right now, Barry, is this: You take the chalice and you'll come back. Right back here to this moment, as she..." June paused and Barry feels a bit like the chalice is rooting around in his mind for something. "As she tells you to go back to bed. You'll wake up and you can make her stay."

There's an ache in Barry's chest, one that often doesn't show up unless he's having a panic attack. It's a burning kind of feeling that envelops his entire heart, leaving it raw. He didn't know why it was happening now, but he can't deny that the offer to go back is incredibly appealing in this moment.

"But," June said. "I can't lie to you. If you do this, you won't join the Bureau. You won't work with Magnus or Merle or Taako, you might not even meet them. You won't go out on missions or stop some other things from happening, and you definitely won't be coming here to Refuge. I understand that's a lot to ask of you, but..." she looked towards the woman again and Barry did too, unable to help himself. "She won't be gone. And I think, if your heart, Barry, you know which one you want more."

June sat on the bed and the static spread from under her, trying to consume the scene completely again. He pushed it back in his mind, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

June didn't comment on it. And she didn't comment on the fact that when he opened his eyes, his gaze went right back to the woman. She came into view a bit better this time. She had on a robe of some kind and there was something hanging from her belt, most likely a weapon even if Barry couldn't conjure up the correct shape. And he tried, he tried focusing on her more, bringing her to the forefront of his mind, but all he gained was a headache and a feeling of dread in his gut. He couldn't remember her face. He didn't know who she was.

But he wanted to.

"Well," June said, after a few minutes of Barry trying and failing to visualize her. "I don't mean to rush ya, Barry, but this episode's only supposed to be an hour long and you're just standing here."

"Sorry," Barry said, shaking his head. The room slipped back into total static. The bed June was sitting on could no longer be distinguished between that and the floor. The woman blended back in, barely noticeable. June stood up, stretching, and said,

"Let's get you back to your friends."

And Barry... Barry made his choice.

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[hockeywhy]

4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.” 

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation. 

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you. 

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals. 

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately. 

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.” 

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively. 

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!” 

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red. 

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day. 

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you. 

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him. 

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.” 

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?” 

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?” 

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.” 

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.” 

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again. 

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers. 

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice. 

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?” 

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better. 

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly. 

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.” 

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.” 

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.” 

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?” 

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?��� you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. 

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.” 

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.” 

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears. 

-

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival. 

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?” 

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.” 

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position. 

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it. 

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep. 

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly. 

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?” 

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?” 

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.” 

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?” 

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat. 

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around. 

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—” 

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face. 

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.” 

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face. 

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to. 

-

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled. 

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!” 

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up. 

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked. 

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you. 

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different:  mostly, it was really just Matthew. 

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.” 

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues. 

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine. 

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh. 

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?” 

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?” 

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.” 

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.” 

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.” 

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.” 

“Oh we’re just—” 

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”  

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?” 

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?” 

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.” 

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song. 

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot. 

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music. 

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.” 

“Baby, it’s torture.” 

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster. 

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?” 

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.” 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.” 

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.” 

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?” 

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that. 

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.” 

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.” 

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?” 

“Is it my jersey?” 

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?” 

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.” 

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.” 

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.” 

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?” 

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.” 

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.” 

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing. 

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy. 

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem. 

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully. 

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened. 

“Here for vacation?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful. 

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen. 

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you. 

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.” 

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand. 

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store. 

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead. 

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.” 

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.” 

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking. 

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues. 

-

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for. 

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return. 

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music. 

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration. 

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.” 

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment. 

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away. 

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.” 

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace. 

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse. 

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?” 

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?” 

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.” 

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.” 

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.” 

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.” 

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.” 

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.” 

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?” 

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.” 

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.” 

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though. 

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand. 

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details. 

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji. 

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/ 

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing? 

You [emoji: middle finger] 

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition 

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :) 

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame. 

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone. 

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?” 

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.” 

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.” 

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?” 

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.” 

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter. 

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game. 

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level. 

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”. 

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them. 

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game. 

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that. 

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience. 

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy. 

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.” 

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.” 

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face. 

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—” 

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena. 

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.” 

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.” 

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.” 

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over. 

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago. 

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.” 

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door. 

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke. 

“Who was?” 

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.” 

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine. 

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly. 

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.” 

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.” 

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you. 

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable. 

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party. 

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.” 

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?” 

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation. 

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush. 

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came. 

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?” 

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

-

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.” 

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle. 

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.” 

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters. 

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly. 

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.” 

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.  

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.” 

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence. 

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes. 

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.” 

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.” 

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away. 

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away. 

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said. 

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter. 

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you. 

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind. 

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork. 

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall. 

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.” 

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.” 

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?” 

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.” 

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup. 

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing. 

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room. 

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned. 

“Sure thing, definitely need it.” 

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself. 

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on. 

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.” 

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.” 

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings. 

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.” 

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs. 

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.” 

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?” 

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.” 

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.” 

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door. 

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally. 

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?” 

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.” 

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.” 

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?” 

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you. 

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash. 

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?” 

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.” 

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead. 

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?” 

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under. 

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.” 

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you. 

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.” 

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.” 

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this. 

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.” 

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?” 

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.” 

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him. 

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there. 

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?” 

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third. 

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.” 

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.” 

“That’s…really not what I said.” 

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.” 

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

[00:26] FWB!Wooyoung x fem!reader, suggestive, mentions of sexual themes, inspired by the AOTM performance, originally posted on June 27th, 2021

The club was nearly shaking from the loud music and the people in it as well. You loved this atmosphere, because it never failed to get your blood pumping - and occasionally your core throbbing. While others went to church every Saturday, you, on the other hand, went to the club. It was like a ritual to you - although tonight was a very special occasion.

You were alone tonight in the club, no friends accompanying you and most importantly, he was alone too. He, as in Jung Wooyoung, the man who could make you scream his name in pleasure every time you two met. It was the usual friends-with-benefits relationship - no strings attached, just two friends hanging out and fucking around. Literally.

If looks could kill, every single person who would set their eyes on either of you would be dead by now. You were wearing your tightest black bodycon dress, paired with black stiletto strappy heels, your hair in light curls and your red lipstick burning brighter than the flames of Hell itself. Wooyoung, on the other hand, was wearing a three-piece suit, without an undershirt, his toned golden chest showing off, along with his diamond chain necklace.

You had exchanged a few flirty glances, yet none of you made a move to approach each other - you were playing a game of push and pull, waiting on who would break first. On that note, you decided to spice things up a bit and grabbed the first man you saw and started dancing with him. Of course, the man did not waste time and was running his hands over the small of your back and your ass. Now that will make him furious, you thought and smirked at the possible image of jealousy written all over Wooyoung’s sharp features.

The confirmation came only two minutes later, when you felt your arm being yanked and you turn around to see Jung Wooyoung in all his glory and his jaw clenched as tight as humanly possible. “Dude, what the fuck?”, says the man who was dancing with you and Wooyoung takes a step forward, his gaze more menacing than a tiger ready to rip its prey apart. “She is not yours. Piss off before you regret it”, he spits and the man almost runs away. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“You’re so predictable”, you turn to Wooyoung, a satisfactory smirk adorning your blood red lips. “Tried to play it cool, but I can’t hide my true desire, doll”, he chuckles. “Oh? And what could that be?”, you ask with faux innocence, “Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N, ‘cause I can see the dirty in your eyes”, he licks his lips slowly enough for you to catch every movement.

“And what makes you think that I want to get dirty with you?”, you ask, blatantly lying, as if your panties weren’t soaked and sticky to your folds. Wooyoung releases a breathy chuckle as he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arm around your waist. “My baby’s a bad liar, but I know her so well”, he smirks and runs a finger over your cheek. You mimic his action by running one of your perfectly manicured nails down his exposed chest and he hisses at the feeling.

“And what are you going to do about it? Are you going to punish me, Wooyoungie?”, you tease and he groans at your words. He wedges his thigh between your slightly parted legs and flexes his strong muscles under your clothed pussy, making you whimper at the friction. “Doll, you’re on your worst behaviour tonight”, Wooyoung mumbles against your collarbone and you feel his breath fan against your skin, as he drags the tip of his tongue in a torturing pace. He reaches behind your ear and finally whispers:

“You’re so good at being bad, Y/N. And I want it just like that”.