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matwith1t · 4 years ago

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A/N: A part two!! As much as I love angst…I couldn’t leave the first part like that 🥴 You don’t have to read the first part to understand this fic, but you’ll definitely catch some little call backs!! If you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it all!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening !

Summary: Nearly a year since the break up with Mat, your life slowly started to revert back to life before him. But all of that progress goes away when you keep crossing paths.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: swearing, drinking // WC: 15K // Angst & Fluff

With the sun shining down, and no clouds in the sky to cover up its hard rays, it felt a bit warmer than the usual October day in New York. It was neither an excruciating humid day like the summers, nor a brutally frigid winter day. It just felt…average. But something in the air made the average day feel abnormal.

Maybe forgetting to set your alarm, and rushing to get ready, had something to do with why you felt on edge. Or maybe it had something to do with finding a crinkled polaroid picture of you and Mat––him laughing and you looking up at him––that you found in your sock drawer last night.

Maybe it was the picture.

But you definitely knew your sour mood could be traced back to this morning––seven minutes ago to be exact––when you ordered a coffee and the barista informed you that they were out of an ingredient for the drink you wanted.

“It’s not that bad,” your friend, Kennady, came up to stand beside you after she finished ordering her drink, “Worse things could happen.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you crossed your arms over your chest, “I know…”

And you knew things could be worse. There had been days in the past ten months that were definitely worse than a coffee shop being out of an ingredient to send you into a spiral. But this minute detail in the beginning of your day felt too mundane compared to everything you had felt in the past. And for some reason, it bothered you more than it should have.

Was it a sign that you were getting over him?

With a quiet laugh to yourself and a slight shake of your head at that thought, you quickly buried the idea. Not a chance, you thought to yourself.

When a barista called out your name for your americano, you politely excused yourself around other customers until you got to the counter. With a tight smile, and a small thanks, you picked up your coffee and went over to a little station where you could fix the drink to your liking.

You were in the middle of opening a sugar packet when you heard someone questionably call out your name.

It was an accent you hadn’t heard in quite sometime…A friendly French-Canadian accent that always reassured you of Mat’s feelings whenever he wasn’t in the room. After all, it’s what any best friend would do.

Not expecting to run into anyone during your little outing, your hand jerked back in surprise––sugar flying out of the packet––as you spun around in shock.

“Oh, I––Wow, Tito––I’m so sorry,” you tried to laugh, tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you met his blue eyes, but you hadn’t seen him––or a picture of him––since you unfollowed him on every social media platform you had him on.

Like every time you found yourself in his presence, he smiled, “Don’t worry about it, really,” he brushed off the sugar from his sweatshirt, “Shouldn't have snuck up on you.”

You shook your head and waved him off, a ball of anxiety slowly brewing in the pit of your stomach. Because you knew if Tito was here, then Mat would be too. The two of them always traveled in a pair; you learned that they were a package deal early on in your relationship. And you could pray all you wanted that Tito was on a solo coffee run, but by his freshly showered look and Islanders athletic wear…You knew he had just come from a practice.

“It’s okay,” you closed the lid on your americano, forgetting all about adding sugar or creamer in it, “How’re you?”

“I’ve been good,” He smiled, eyes glancing down to your foot tapping against the hardwood floor, “Yeah, just busy playing a lot of…Hockey.” His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he thought hockey might still be a sore spot for you.

And in a way, it was.

Tito cleared his throat, “And you?” He politely turned the question to you, “How…How’s the job?”

Relieved he didn’t ask you how you’ve been, you smiled softly, “It’s really great, I’ve had a lot more time to concentrate on it.” You looked over his shoulder to see if you could see Mat anywhere in the coffee shop, “I’ve been given more responsibilities.”

“That’s great to hear,” Tito sounded genuine, “I don’t want to hold you up, but it was really great to see you.”

Tito had always been very emotionally intelligent with identifying others feelings, and you had no doubt he picked up on your uneasiness.

You offered him a smile, “It was good to see––“

“Did you grab my coffee?”

The smile dropped from your face and instead of feeling the anxiety in your stomach churn, you felt nauseous.

Tito looked at Mat with the same hung open mouth and wide eyes that you had. Mat came up next to him so nonchalantly––so casually––as if he didn’t know he was in front of the person whose heart he knowingly wrecked nearly a year ago.

Still unable to form a sentence, Tito’s eyes briefly glanced over at you, standing frozen, “Yeah I––yeah.”

As if Mat sensed some tension in the air, he followed Tito’s vision. He had to do a double take, seemingly not trusting his vision that you were right in front of him. And in an instant, just like you and Tito, his eyes slightly widened and his mouth hung open. You knew that he was thinking the same thing as you…that you had gone nearly ten months of living in the same city and had not run into each other once.

But now that streak was broken.

Your breathing stopped as you looked at him for the first time since that unfortunate day in December where the air felt a little colder than the rest of the month.

As usual during the season, he was clean shaven, but you saw a few small pimples littered on his chin. He looked more tired than usual, but had a slight glow to his skin from a recent shower. The ends of his hair flicked out under his baseball hat, just above his ear. You always used to tell him how cute those flecks of hair looked as he tried to push them behind his ear.

But the one thing that made your heart shatter was the sweatshirt he was wearing. It was the navy blue Islanders sweatshirt from a few seasons ago that you had found stuffed away in the back of your closet last year.

The one you broke down into as your mother held you.

The one that Kennady took away when she saw that you still held on to it after you said you’d donate it. It caused quite the argument between the two of you…You wanted to keep the sweatshirt because––while it was delusional for you to think––maybe Mat would notice it was missing, then he would reach out, and you would talk again. Kennady didn’t think that was very healthy and said she would pass it along to Tito.

And pass it along she had.

With a shaky breath, and one last look at the man who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, you spun around with your coffee and walked away.

You had only gotten a few steps away when you felt a burning hand catch onto your elbow, “Y/N…”

His hand hadn’t left your elbow, and you stood stiff in the middle of the coffee shop,“I have somewhere to be,” you said to him without turning around.

“Can we talk?”

His voice was barely audible––a plea––a whisper that should’ve easily been lost in the chaos of the coffee shop, but whenever he was around, all you did was solely pay attention to him.

You gulped, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Not here,” he was quick to follow up, knowing he shouldn’t be this lucky to get this much time with you, “I just––I want––How’re you?”

With an irritated sigh through your nostrils, and clenched jaw, you spun around to face him. Half of you melted at his wide and pleading eyes, a mix of uncertainty and care, but the other half of you wanted to leave him standing alone without an answer; much like he did with you when he broke your heart.

“Do you need something?”

He looked taken aback by your bluntness, “I…” Nervously, he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, “I scored a hat trick last week.”

You despised the way your heart fluttered with pride at his accomplishment.

Instead of focusing on the unconventional feeling of your heart soaring with pride, but simultaneously feeling crushed in his presence, you tried your best to respond with a monotone voice.

“So, a start to a good season?”

Again, he looked confused at your short phrases and general disinterest in what he had to say, “We…Yeah, looks like a good season. Last season was good too..” His eyes briefly left yours to look at your slightly shaking hand that was holding the coffee cup, “Did you…Have you caught any games?”

“I don’t watch hockey anymore.”

Unlike his sentences that wavered with doubt, your sentences were sharp and unremorseful.

But you knew your stoic demeanor came closer to breaking with every second you stood in front of him. It had been ten months since the break up, you should be fine, you kept telling yourself. But seeing him and not being able to mutter an inside joke under your breath and hear him gently laugh, not being able to reach across the inches between you two and give his hand a squeeze, and not being able to muster up the smallest of smiles in front of the one person who could coax a smile out of you with just their presence…You felt the exhaustion catch up to you.

And like everyone else who asked if you watched any hockey lately, he looked stunned at your answer. Because when you were together, you never missed a game. While you weren’t always physically at a game; you either kept up with it by following social media updates, watching it on television, or listening to the radio broadcasts of the game while walking to the subway or in a cab.

“You…You don’t watch hockey?”

You could’ve given him the long answer. How you unfollowed everyone and everything related to Islanders hockey, blocked every variation of the Islanders team name from social media to keep any news from popping up, muted his name on Twitter, deleted the NHL app, and if you were at a restaurant with friends and a television had a hockey game on, you always requested to sit at the furthest table away from the game.

Instead, you shook your head, “No.”

The longer you stood in front of him, the more you felt your composure slip. You didn't like feeling out of control of a situation, and standing so close to him only reminded you of what you didn’t have anymore.

“I have to go.”

But again, he took a step forward and tried to stop you from leaving, “Please, can we just––”

If only he had fought this hard ten months ago to keep your relationship alive; you wouldn’t be running away and he wouldn’t be begging for a basic conversation.

You could feel the tears well up behind your eyes and the familiar sting as you shrugged off his touch, “Mat, I really can’t do this right now––”

“It doesn’t have to be now––”

“Mathew,” Kennady’s harsh voice ripped through Mat’s desperate one.

His arm fell to his side, accepting defeat, as he kept his pleading eyes on your frame, “Ken, hey––”

“We’re late for something,” she took the shaking coffee cup from your hand and looped an arm around your bicep, “We’re leaving.”

And with her direct tone, and guidance of turning you around to exit the coffee shop, she kept a strong hold on your arm for support. Your breathing became more irregular, because out of all the coffee shops in the area, how did you manage to run into him. Maybe you were meant to run into him…Maybe it was the universe’s way of telling you that maybe you should talk to him.

“Don’t turn around,” Kennady whispered in your ear as you came up to the door, “I know you want to, but don’t.”

The first tear fell when she opened the door and you so badly wanted to get one last look at him. One more look at the one person you would still love no matter how much time passed. The second tear fell when you were waiting for the light to change at a crosswalk, as Kennady whispered encouraging words. The third tear fell when the two of you made it to a park and sat down on a bench.

She handed your coffee back to you, “You did great,” and gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, “So great.”

You tried to take a sip of coffee, but your hand shook too much. You tried to swallow down the scratchiness at the back of your throat, but it only came back stronger, “Why…” Another single tear fell as your voice cracked, “Why wouldn’t you let me turn around?”

She offered you a sympathetic smile, “Because I know how much you still love him.”

A small pathetic laugh escaped your lips at her honest answer, and you tried your best to mirror her smile, but it was as everything had just caught up to you. You had felt his comforting touch on you again. Heard his soothing voice again. You were with him again.

With how persistent he was to talk with you, it felt like he wanted to be with you.

The tears welling up in your eyes caused your eyebrows to pull together as you cupped a hand to your mouth and over your nose. Slowly, you leaned your head onto Kennady’s shoulder as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulders that shook slightly.

––––

The next time you saw Mat was another coincidence.

You were in the living room of a house in Garden City, softly chatting with friends in the corner, when a sudden roar of cheers from the front of the house interrupted your conversation. You and your friends laughed it off as more drunk antics of other guests, but then you heard his name.

“The person who absolutely crushed tonight’s game and that we’re forever grateful is an Islander; Mat Barzal!”

More cheers of agreement.

The plastic of the red solo cup in your hand easily cracked under your grip.

Deep breath in, he won’t come into this room…Deep breath out, who does he even know here…Deep breath in, did he come alone…Deep breath out, or was he here with teammates since it was after a game…Deep breath in––Oh my God, Tito just walked in.

He caught your eye immediately, and just like at the coffee shop, his eyes widened along with yours. But unlike the coffee shop, he didn’t come over to greet you. Instead, he offered you a slight nod of his head and turned around on his heel. Vaguely, you heard him speak over the music and talk of the party, but all your ears could pick up was ‘let’s go to the kitchen…’

A sigh of relief passed through your lips as you felt your shoulders relax. The small group you had been part of for the better portion of the night all gave you knowing looks, eyebrows raised high.

“I’m alright,” You took a sip of your drink. None of them looked convinced, Kennady specifically, but you stifled out a laugh before you took another, much longer, sip of your drink, “Really! I’m alright. It’s been over a year…” You gulped and locked eyes with Kennady, “I’m alright.”

She didn’t look convinced, but restarted the previous conversation, diverting the attention away from you.

It was January, three months since you saw Mat at the coffee shop, and you were fine. At least you thought you were capable of not breaking down in front of him. While you still were without much––if any––closure after your relationship ended, seeing him at the coffee shop felt like turning a page. Not necessarily a whole chapter, but just enough to start feeling a little better.

You both lived around the same area and still had a few mutual friends. To think you would never see him ever again would be foolish, so you had to make the best of this situation. Although, part of you hoped not to run into him ever again.

There had been times where you overhead a ‘Barzy’ or a ‘Beau,’ an Islanders chant, or someone complimenting Mat on his goals of the game. But for the most part, it felt as if he wasn’t there. You enjoyed the rest of the night, but a few hours later, his laugh caught your ear and you saw him tilt his head back from your peripheral vision.

You hadn’t even realized he was in the same room.

Progress, you smiled into your red solo cup as you went to take a drink, small steps of progress.

But your tiny smile disappeared when you saw you were all out of alcohol. With a frown, you quietly excused yourself from your group and walked into the kitchen. You waved at people you recognized, and felt great up until this point of the night. With every genuine smile you offered a friend, they returned it with a sympathetic smile, assuming you were overcompensating happiness by being in the same place with your ex-boyfriend.

And in turn, it caused doubts to float through your mind.

Were you really feeling alright being so close in proximity to him? Were you really starting to feel the process of mending your broken heart, or were you lying to yourself? Would you break down if he were to cross paths with him?

Repeating your breathing exercise from earlier, you calmed yourself down as you weaved through more people to get to the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have the same drink, or something different, so you stood still for a few moments debating in your head. You were far from coming to a decision, but when you heard a familiar voice say your name, you quickly came to a decision that you needed to be sober.

You spun around and came face to face with Mat.

Unlike the athletic wear you saw him in the last time, he was currently dressed in a white button up shirt tucked into a pair of navy slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves cuffed up, and a small wisp of hair rested against the side of his forehead.

You felt your heart erratically beat against your ribcage as you stood in front of him. He looked as if he didn’t expect you to turn around for him, and the two of you stood in silence. His brain failed at forming a thought, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“You got a haircut.”

Mat’s cheeks went red as he ducked his chin into his chest, letting out a small laugh, “Yeah,” he looked up at you with the faintest of smiles, “I did.”

Silence.

He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh…What’re you drinking?”

Snapping back to reality, and to why you were in the kitchen in the first place, you blinked your eyes a few times, “Water.”

“There’s some––I can, here,” Mat stumbled over his feet, like he did with his words, as he walked past you and to the fridge. You followed him toward the fridge, and watched him lean forward to grab a water from the back. You only had a few seconds to admire his side profile before he stood up straight and uncapped the water bottle for you.

“Thanks,” you uneasily said as you took the water from him, making sure you didn’t brush your fingers against his.

Mat took a deep breath, looked away from you, and ran a hand through his hair. You could now hear your heartbeat in your ears, knowing exactly what he was about to ask.

“Can we talk?”

This was exactly why you wanted water.

You took a long sip of water, and watched as Mat anxiously fiddled with his fingers. You brought the bottle away from your lips and offered him a tight lipped smile, “Not now.”

He looked like he wanted to say more; like he wanted to push you to your limits in order to get any type of reaction from you, but he knew that you wouldn’t play into that, especially in public. So he took your words as a cliffhanger––not an outright no––that you would revisit the topic of conversation he wanted to discuss.

But in actuality, you planned to dodge the conversation if he ever brought it up again.

Mat stuffed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels, still not knowing how to direct the conversation, even though he was the one who approached you.

As you stood in silence with Mat, little by little, you began to overthink.

It was in a kitchen where you and Mat had first met. You were at a different mutual friend’s house, but it was eerily similar to how you met the first time…talking over drinks. Except this time, there was so much history between the two of you that it was hard to find some common ground to talk about without feeling like you were walking on eggshells.

The first time you met him, you had only heard his name in passing from occasionally tuning into Islanders games or hearing your friends talk about their friend Mat. The conversation flowed easily, laughter was present nearly every minute the two of you talked, and he slowly moved toward you thinking you didn’t notice him trying.

But you noticed everything.

Like now; you noticed there was no conversation, no laughter present, and how Mat leaned slightly away from you. There were too many memories that couldn’t be forgotten. Too many nights where the two of you were at a friends house like this, but would ride home together with fingers intertwined, instead of leaving separately which would happen tonight. Too many nights where there was an extra set of clothes on his bedroom floor that looked like they belonged.

Too many feelings involved.

You wanted to believe that you were strong enough not to break down in front of him again. You wanted to think that you were alright; wanted to think that you weren’t moments away from shutting down and having your heart wrecked all over again. But you didn’t want to leave his presence just yet. You weren’t at your tipping point yet.

“You had a game tonight?”

Mat nodded his head rapidly, taking in any interaction and conversation he could get with you. He seemed to also not want to leave your presence just yet.

“It was a good game,” he easily smiled with a shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes, “Stop being modest,” if you were closer to him, and felt more comfortable, you would’ve shoved his shoulder, “People were cheering your name when you arrived.”

His eyebrows rose with excitement, “You heard all of that?”

“Now tell me how you really played,” you tilted your head back slightly to take a sip of water.

There was a smile toying on your face, but the grin on Mat’s face stretched from ear to ear, “Really fucking good,” he let out a breathy laugh, “I scored twice, had some really nice plays, a couple of assists…” his eyes held a certain gleam to them whenever he talked about hockey, something you never saw even when he talked about you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled, “That’s amazing. Only one short of another hat trick.” Both of you let out a small laugh at the attempt of your joke. There was more silence, and you could tell you were about to hit your tipping point soon, no matter how many times you scolded yourself not to cry, but you spoke up.

“If you keep playing this well I might have to watch a game.”

The way his face lit up was different than anything you had seen before, even with what you saw just seconds ago when he was talking about hockey. There was a difference in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows arched in an excited way, his smile showcased all of his teeth, and there was a different spark in his eyes.

“Yeah that’s––You should,” he cleared his throat, but still had a grin on his face, “If you watch you’ll have to let me know.”

“I’ll do that––”

“Barzal!”

Both of your attentions were pulled away by the shout of his name. And when you saw that the person who called out his name held up a ping pong ball, and Mat turned his head to look at you with a small smile––one similar to the night you first met, but a little less devilish––you knew that this was your tipping point.

While it would be fun to pretend like you barely knew Mat, partner up with him for beer pong, and relive the moment how your relationship first started…It was too much.

You smiled apologetically, clenching your jaw tight to keep your chin from wobbling, “My sister texted saying she needs a little motivational talk.”

He hid his disappointment well, but you saw that spark in his eyes fade away when he nodded his head in understanding. But he still held a small smile on his face for you, “You were always the best at those.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself with words as memories of you motivating Mat before a game or cheering him up after a hard loss came flooding into your mind. You silently sniffled and picked your water up, “I’ll see you later, Mat.”

“Yeah…” he sounded like he was in a daydream, “See you later.”

You kept your eyes glued to the floor and texted Kennady asking if she could meet you out back, as you weaved through people. This time as you made your way through the crowd, you didn’t smile at anyone.

The first tear fell when you heard someone cheer Mat on by saying he should play basketball instead of hockey. The single tear slowly slid down your cheek as you heard his laughter echo around the house. The second tear fell as you replayed the similarities of the night you first met in your head compared to tonight. Everything almost lined up the same way, everything almost felt like that night.

Except this night…there were less smiles, more silences, and instead of your heart fluttering with butterflies because a boy you thought was cute talked to you at a party, you felt your heart drop down into your stomach like a broken elevator.

Your phone buzzed when your hand reached out to open the back door; Kennady saying she was making her way to you.

And the third tear fell when you turned your head to look back at Mat one last time.

You should’ve known he was already looking at you.

His eyebrows were pinched together in concern, head slightly tilted to the side, as he looked straight at you and mouthed “are you okay?” Sometimes you forgot that he knew you just as well as you knew him. And this moment made it clear to you that he didn’t believe the lie you told to get out of being his beer pong partner.

Your chin wobbled as you tried your best to smile––which you were sure looked more like a grimace––and you mouthed back, “I’m fine.”

You didn’t wait for him to either repeat his question or ditch the game to comfort you. And in a matter of seconds, you were out the door, the cold January air prickled your scorching hot skin, as you saw Kennady already waiting outside.

She looked up from her phone, and when she saw the deep frown on your face and silent tears falling down your cheeks, her shoulders dropped as she opened her arms. Hastily, you made a few long strides over to her and collapsed in her arms. She held you tightly as one hand trailed her finger tips up and down your spine to sooth your quiet cries.

“I––I still love him,” you hiccuped.

“I know.”

––––

January passed slowly as ever, and you didn’t see Mat for the rest of the month.

You tried to watch an Islanders game, but when the camera panned to Mat, and the announcers praised him for how amazing of a season he was having, you shut it off. You had a plan to watch the game, send him a text after, and then maybe it would lead into a conversation…but it was too soon for you. Even after over a year of not seeing him play, it was too soon.

So you tried again in the first week of February. It was an away game, and while Mat rarely ever showed it, you knew from previous experience that he was always more nervous playing those than a home game. And to hold yourself accountable to actually watch the game, you texted Mat a few hours before puck drop.

He never claimed to have any superstitions about looking at his phone before a game, but you knew he always kept it away to lessen distractions. So, after composing a few different variations of a message, you sent a small good luck tonight!! And then set your phone face down on the coffee table.

Your heart was beating more than it should have for just sending a simple text. You felt bile churning in your stomach as you buried your face into your clammy hands. It’s a text message, you scolded yourself, no need to overthink everything. But overthinking was what you did best.

Maybe you shouldn’t have used two exclamation marks. Maybe you should’ve said your name in case he deleted your number. Maybe you shouldn’t have prematurely sent a text message, because what if you couldn’t make it through a whole game? What if your text messed up his pre-game ritual? What if he lied when he told you he wanted to know if you watched a game?

What if he changed his number and didn’t tell you?

But your phone vibrated against the coffee table, snapping you out from your inner-turmoil. And with a deep breath, you flipped it over and saw his contact name: Mathew Barzal.

And from his message, you knew that he knew it was you; Are you watching tonight?!

A small laugh escaped your lips as you sent back a simple, yeah!

Stop using exclamation marks, you scolded yourself.

But before you could overthink the one word you sent him, he responded instantly: Guess I’ll have to step up my game.

You bit your bottom lip to conceal your smile as you typed a message back to him. And for the next half hour, the two of you messaged back and forth about your days, Mat expressed his nervousness, you sent him a little motivational message, and then he said he had to go put his uniform on for warm ups.

There was still some time before puck drop, so you tried your best to busy yourself with tasks. You cleaned the kitchen, made a grocery list, and reorganized the books on your bookshelf. But no matter what you did, your thoughts circled back to Mat. And this time, you didn’t try to block them out, because you came to peace that he would always linger in the back of your mind.

He was there when you put away a mug––one that never rested evenly on a flat surface, due to a chip on the bottom, caused by Mat accidentally dropping it when hot water spilled over the top and burned his hand. There when you made the grocery list––because he would always leave it behind when you two would go to the store together. And there on your bookshelf––when you moved the hockey book he got you for your birthday.

His presence would always be tangled with yours, like a stubborn knot in a necklace that was impossible to disentangle.

You busied yourself by making tea, using the chipped mug, and turned on the game. The players were in their starting positions, and you saw Mat at the face off. Holding your breath, you said a little prayer, because you knew how nervous Mat got during a face off. He always said that he would turn the nerves into excitement to give him adrenaline, but you knew there was a tiny white lie in that.

But you watched the game, with your cup of tea to try and lessen the anxiety you felt, but it was of no use. While Mat was playing a fantastic game; you still cringed when he got smashed into the boards too rough, bounced your leg whenever he had the puck and an opposing defenseman came up on him, and shut one eye when he brought his stick back to shoot a goal.

Sixty minutes of hockey went by excruciatingly slow, but it was worth it, with the Islanders winning by two.

You shut the TV off, placed the mug on its side in the sink, and went to grab your phone off the charger. The game had not even ended fifteen minutes ago but there was a text from a Mathew Barzal on your screen.

With a deep breath, you unlocked your phone and read his message: Did the game meet your standards?

You let out a chuckle as you walked into your room while typing out your message; Nice goal.

The comment was going to inflate his ego, you could picture his wide smile and raised eyebrows in the locker room reading your message. And like how you messaged before the game, it lasted for quite some time; with Mat admitting he was more nervous with you watching, and you reassuring him he played an excellent game. When he finally had to shower, you wished him a safe ride home and he wished you a good night sleep.

While you still tossed and turned under your covers, you managed to get more sleep that night than you had in the last year.

–––

Two weeks later, Mat called you.

It was after a home game, one that the Islanders lost, and a game where Mat wracked up a few penalties. Like every hockey game of his you’d watched since you promised him that one night, he texted you not even fifteen minutes of being off the ice.

Can I call you?

You paced around in the living area of your apartment thinking of what to respond. You wanted to talk to him…You felt ready to talk to him, but there was still some hesitation. The two of you had branched out to texting each other even when there wasn’t a game scheduled, and he had yet to bring up wanting to talk about your relationship again. So part of you had an inkling he would try it over the phone if you agreed. But then there was the other part of you that knew he just wanted cheering up.

To have a little more time to psych yourself up for a phone call with him, you responded: Sure! But why don’t you shower and head home first.

He sent you––sounds good. I’ll call you––And you prepared yourself for Mat to take the fastest shower possible and to maybe break a few traffic laws to get back to his place.

The assumption you made turned out correct, because in just under an hour of Mat officially off the ice, there was an incoming call from a Mathew Barzal.

The phone vibrated in your hand a few times as you breathed in and out. But before his call went to your voicemail, you clicked accept, “Mat…” you started off slowly, “Hey.”

“Hi,” his voice was low as you heard his door shut. Neither one of you said anything, but you heard movements from his end. You heard him put his keys in the bowl by his front door, fling off his shoes, open another door––presumably his bedroom door––and heard the sound of blankets shifting. You imagined he was sitting on his bed, as he let out a deep sigh, “I played like shit.”

“No you didn’t,” your automatic instinct was to reassure him, “Everyone has their off days, it doesn’t mean that you’re a shit player.”

He groaned, and you heard a soft thump. You imagined he fell back on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling, “I just––Some of those calls they made on me––and how I tripped over my skates and ate shit with no one around me?” He let another deep sigh, “It was embarrassing.”

Thankfully, you had done your nighttime routine during the second period intermission. So while you listened to Mat list out all of the things he thought he had done wrong during the game, you slipped under the covers of your own bed.

“And then when I thought I scored a goal, but the puck hit the crossbar, and it came back to hit me in the face––”

“Mat, that’s an honest mistake––”

“But it was embarrassing!” He raised his voice out of irritation. And this time, you knew for a fact he wasn’t irritated with you…He was irritated at hockey, the one thing he loved most in the world. “I swear I could hear people laughing at me. And I just know that the media is going to write how I should be a better player because I was a first round draft pick and with how much money my contract is––”

“Mat,” his sentences were strung along, and you don’t think he took a single breath during his rant, so you cut him off, “You can’t always be a perfect player, but you were a first round pick for a reason. It might not have been the outcome you wanted, you played the best you could tonight.”

“But it wasn’t good enough.”

His negative self talk sounded eerily similar to the thoughts that swirled around your mind after the break up.

“How many other twenty-three year olds do you know that play professional hockey?”

“There’s Beau, Mitch Marner, Carter Hart, Matthew Tkachuk, Tyson––”

“Stop,” you harshly cut him off as you sat up in bed, taking a pillow and hugging it to your chest, “They don’t count because they’re like the one percent of people who make it to the NHL.” You tried to stress your point, “Like you, they’ve trained an insane amount to get where they are. But how many other people do that? And how many people do train for most of their life and still don’t get to play in the league you do?”

He was silent.

“The average twenty-three year old isn’t playing professional hockey,” you shut your eyes, because no matter how great of a hockey player you thought Mat was, he never had the same faith in himself, “The average person isn’t playing professional hockey. Mat, you’re an incredible player; honestly one of the best in the league right now. And it’s not just me saying that to make you feel better, just look at the Islanders stats from before and after you came along.”

Again, he stayed silent.

“You came into this league so young, but so talented. Sure, you still have things to learn, but you’re the best version of yourself you can be right now. And there’s still so much time for you to grow to be an even better player,” you let out a small breath, “It blows my mind how good you are. And some people might talk shit and say you played poorly, but if they were to be on the ice with you?”

You waited to see if he had anything to say, but when he stayed mute, you let out a soft chuckle, “If they––an average person––was on the ice with you they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Mat let out a small laugh, and you imagined that he had one hand covering his eyes as he still laid on his back on top of his duvet, “Thank you.”

Unclenching the pillow you hugged closely to your chest, you slid down your headboard, and made yourself comfortable under the covers. You laid on your side, staring out your window at the same night sky he was under, and whispered, “I just wish you saw yourself the way I see you.”

You imagined he sat up, elbows resting on his knees as he pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, as his interest piqued, “And how’s that?”

“As someone who’s great at everything they do.”

It was silent on his end. But you expected that with how honest and instantaneous your answer came.

He cleared his throat, “Are you in bed?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you pulled the sheets up under your chin.

“I…” he let out a shaky breath, but whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t say it, “I still have to get ready for bed.”

“I won’t keep you.”

“We…” he started off slowly, and you imagined he stared at the wall in full concentration, and this time, he said half of whatever he wanted to say, “We should do this again.”

A small smile tugged the corners of your lips upward, “Talk?”

“Yeah, um, talk,” he let out a nervous laugh, and you imagined him rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “On the phone…In person…”

You reciprocated his nervous laughter, but it wasn’t the bad kind of nerves you had felt in your stomach over the last year…this feeling reminded you of the excited nerves you had when you first met him, “You must really need more motivational talks,” you joked with him. But his answer, his honest and instantaneous answer, was not a joke.

“I feel like a better person around you.”

You were the silent one now.

“I’ll let you get to sleep,” his voice was soft and light, yet he sounded like he didn’t want to let you go, “Night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Mat.”

After he hung up, you imagined he slept with a smile on his face, just like you.

–––

February might be the shortest calendar month in the year, but it felt impossibly long.

Between late night phone calls with Mat after a game and texting whenever you had a free chance at work, your nerves never disappeared. They were a mix of an excited spark with a dash of anxiety that festered in the pit of your stomach, and only intensified when you saw his contact name pop up on your phone. Yet, the more you communicated with him, the more relaxed you felt. Laughter came more easily between you two, awkward pauses were few and far between, and you smiled more.

But part of you was still hesitant that he would leave unexpectedly like he did nearly a year and a half ago.

After phone calls and texts, March was the month you saw Mat in person for the first time since January. It was in a group setting, but it was planned with the intention of seeing each other. It was a group lunch––you sat next to him––and he occasionally knocked his knee against yours. He apologized every time, but you didn’t think his movements were an accident.

March had more group outings, more texts, and a lot more phone calls randomly throughout the day.

April was a little more different.

The spring air sent a chill down your spine as you walked toward the entrance of a sports bar with Kennady and a few other friends. It was another group outing, another pre-planned meeting where you would see Mat. Weaving your way through tables and standing patrons, you finally got to the high rise table your group was at. A mix of average twenty-something year-olds and hockey players; but Mat caught your eye first.

You saw him sitting on the barstool, hands wrapped around his beer glass as his index finger anxiously tapped the sweating glass. While he softly laughed along with friends who boisterously laughed, he didn’t look too enthralled with the conversation around him. But then he picked his head up and saw you.

A wide grin slowly spread across his face as he straightened out his slumped shoulders.

Everyone greeted each other with hugs, while you settled for waving. When people took their seats, coincidentally the only open seat was next to Mat. Easily, you slid in as he slid a drink in front of you.

“When you texted saying you were almost here, I ordered you a drink,” Mat whispered with a small smile, “I hope that’s alright.”

You picked up the glass with a tight lipped smile, “Yeah, of course, thank you,” you took a sip as he let out a nervous breath through his nose. You set the glass down on the table and angled your body in the chair to face him, “How was practice?”

“Got my ass handed to me,” he let out a breathy laugh, head hanging low as he shrugged his shoulders, “It was alright.”

While Mat had played excellent hockey since you started tuning in again, the past few games were rough. He kept missing easy plays, his shots went wide, he talked back to the referees more than usual, and had more penalties called on him. From your phone calls, you knew he felt uneasy––he admitted that to you––but whenever you pressed the topic further, he brushed it under the rug.

His avoidance of communicating his feelings gave you a sense of deja vu.

You picked a french fry off his plate, “You scored a nice goal last game though, surely Barry couldn’t have beaten you down that much.”

“I just need to get out of my head,” his eyes were far off, staring off into the distance over your shoulder. You wanted to press him further, wanted to know what was causing him distress in his head, but he changed the conversation. He completely changed his demeanor with a smile, as he swatted your hand away from his plate, “Stop stealing my fries.”

As a few fries dropped from your hand, you successfully managed to keep hold of a single fry. And with a proud smile, you popped it in your mouth, “You could’ve ordered me fries, but instead you bought me a drink.”

He gently laughed next to you as he inched toward the edge of his seat, his knees knocking against yours. “Sorry.” he lied with a smile he couldn’t contain.

You raised your eyebrows and purposefully knocked your knee against his in retaliation, “No you’re not.”

He picked up a fry and threw it at you.

The night continued as it had, conversing with friends, and also going back into your own little world with Mat. Throughout the evening, while he held steady conversation with people from across the table, he occasionally knocked his knee into yours. And when you bumped him back, a smile stretched across his face as he maintained eye contact with whoever he talked to.

Everything about the night felt easy until the first hiccup happened.

You and Mat were off in your own little world again, facing each other on your barstools, knees knocking against each other, as he talked about an article that reminded him of you.

“I have to send it to you,” he shook his head with laughter, as he scrolled through his phone, “Just by the title I knew I had to show you, but wanted to wait until I saw you in person to see your reaction.”

You felt your stomach flip at his admission. He wanted to see your reaction. And based on how giddy he looked as he searched for the article to text it to you, he thought your reaction would be similar to his. He wanted to see you smile.

Your phone vibrated on the table as it lit up with his contact name; Mathew Barzal.

When you opened your phone, you let out a laugh when you saw the article populate with an image. It was definitely an article you would enjoy, and when you brought your gaze back up to Mat, a smile wide on your face, you noticed his giddy look was gone. It was replaced with a more contemplative look with his eyes locked in on your phone screen.

Your smile slowly faded away as you knocked your knee against his, “What’s up?”

He left you unanswered as he kept his stare on your phone until the screen turned black. He picked his head up to look at you, a frown on his face, “You changed my contact name,” you sat frozen in your seat, “and took away the picture.”

His words registered with you, but all you heard was ringing in your ears.

Because yes, you changed his contact name and removed the picture of him. His name went from just Mat, with a hockey stick emoji, to his full name after the breakup. And his contact picture, one Tito took of him in lounge wear in a hotel room at an away game on the phone––talking to you––with his head tipped back in laughter, was now just MB in a gray circle.

Did he still have your contact name and picture the same in his phone?

“I––”

“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged his shoulders and tried his best to smile. But the corners of his lips barely turned upward, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his observation, so you stared at him with your lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Mat tried to show another smile, but his lips just formed a straight line. You wanted to tell him you were sorry; that you had to change those details or else you would cry whenever you looked at your phone. But you didn’t know how to verbalize that without breaking down in front of him as the painful memories of stripping Mat away from your life replayed in your mind.

This was the longest silence you sat in with him since January.

Mat slowly shifted his knees away from yours and as you continued to stare at his side profile. He joined in on a conversation with Tito and someone else, but you had no idea what they were talking about. All you thought about were Mat's forehead creases, his glossy eyes full of despair, and the frown still present on his face.

Reluctantly, you turned away from him and found yourself listening in to a different conversation, but all you could pay attention to was Mat’s slumped posture in your peripheral vision.

An hour later, another round of drinks were bought, and everyone was still having a good time with lots of laughter and smiles present. Except your smile was forced and you couldn’t hear Mat’s laugh.

But then you felt someone knock their knee against yours.

You dropped your vision down and saw Mat’s knee an inch away from yours. Thinking that this time, he knocked his knee against yours on accident, you kept quiet. But then you saw him knock his knee against yours again, with his knee resting against yours for an extra few seconds, you looked up at him.

A small hopeful smile was on Mat’s face.

Mirroring his shy smile, you ducked your chin into your chest as you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You knocked your knee against his.

Both of your smiles brightened, and just when Mat opened his mouth to say something, someone clapped a hand on Mat’s shoulder. He looked surprised at the contact, but when you heard the TV behind your table report on the top hockey highlights of the week––with the announcer commenting on Mathew Barzal’s goal––the table erupted into obnoxious cheers. Mat’s face went beet red as he shied away from the praise his friends offered.

After the rowdiness at the table calmed down, you knocked your knee against Mat’s as he picked up his beer. He raised his eyes up to look at you, a small smile making its way onto his face as he took a sip of his drink. When he placed his glass back on the wooden table, he knocked his knee against yours.

“Why are you acting so shy,” you let out a small laugh, because in all of the time you’d known Mat, he craved the attention and praise that came with being a hockey player.

He shrugged his shoulders, tapping his fingers against the table, “The compliments get to be too much sometimes.”

You shut your eyes tight as you tilted your head back in laughter. And when you opened your eyes, Mat was looking at you with gentle eyes full of fondness, “Stop lying.”

There were still some small laughs coming from you, but when Mat took your statement literally, your laughter ceased.

“I like the compliments more when they come from you,” he said with a serious facial expression, “Your words mean the most to me.”

You looked into his eyes; ones that were full of regret as it looked like he was retracing the steps of how your relationship came to this point. How it went from two people who were so in love with each other, in the most idyllic relationship…to people who painfully avoided each other for nearly a year, people whose voices wavered with skepticism when they spoke to each other, and to people who still loved each other but didn’t know how to reconcile.

Sometimes you thought it would be easier not to know him, in turn that you could forget about the heartbreak he caused you. But that thought was always easily diminished; the love you felt when you were with him were the most joyous moments of your life that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Well…Maybe one thing.

If you could trade those early days of happiness to fall in love with him all over again––and not experience any heartbreak––you would do it in a heartbeat.

Mat cleared his throat, “You don’t…” he offered you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know how I felt.”

With a nod of your head, you bit the inside of your cheek as you felt your throat tighten up. To alleviate some of the tension in the air, you took a sip of your drink. And when you tore your eyes away from Mat to look at the table, you saw that the table was empty, save for you and Mat.

You didn’t know the last time just the two of you sat at the same table alone.

“Where did everyone go?” You turned your head to face Mat with a tilt of your head.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I think they’re off getting more drinks.”

You chuckled and faked offense, “And they didn’t ask us what we wanted?”

Again, he shrugged his shoulders, as he turned his head over to look at the bar where everyone stood. When he turned back to look in your eyes, you could see the wheels turning behind his head as he thought.

“We could get our own drinks…” He said slowly, eyes shining full of hope as he leaned in toward you, “Somewhere else…” and the next word he added, voice dangerously low in a whisper, sent more shivers down your spine than the spring breeze, “Alone.”

It wasn’t the first time Mat took your breath away, and without thinking of any possible consequence, you nodded your head once, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at you, the signature grin on his face was contagious as you smiled back, nodding your head even more rapidly. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see where your friends were, and then when he turned back to you, he smirked, “I think we have less than thirty seconds before they come back.”

As if the two of you communicated telepathically, you jumped off the barstools at the same time and walked at a brisk pace toward the doors. Once the two of you were safely outside and at the street corner, both of you doubled over in laughter.

“Did we ditch our friends?” You looked up at Mat who clutched his stomach.

He nodded his head, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Instead of painfully remembering all the times the two of you would duck out early from a party to spend time together, you remembered them with a smile and a laugh.

Once your laughter subsided, you straightened your posture and slid your hands in to your jacket pockets, “Where to?”

“Hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” he apologetically smiled, “There are some bars a few blocks down.” He suggested as he raised his wrist to look at his watch. His eyes widened slightly, “Shit, it’s late. We’ll either make it right before last call or miss it entirely.”

You stood in silence as you saw the wheels behind his head turning in thought again. It looked like he had come up with another place to walk to, but he looked uneasy as he suggested it, “There is…another place.”

Your curiosity sounded too hopeful, “Where?”

Mat looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the pavement, before looking back up at you in uncertainty. He took a deep breath, “My apartment.”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

His apartment.

The apartment where you had your last moments as a couple right before he broke up with you. Were you ready to go back? Did you want to go back? Because there was no doubt in your mind that going there would unlock more memories of when you were the happiest with Mat. But if you wanted to progress in anything––in a friendship––with Mat, you needed to get over the little fears you overdramatized in your head.

“We don’t have to,” Mat was quick to backtrack the offer of his apartment, “I know that’s where we––But I––I have drinks there. It’s not a far walk, and we won’t have to worry about getting into a place. But I understand if you don’t want to––”

“Let’s go,” you sucked in a deep breath and nodded your head the same time Mat’s eyes widened with shock, “It’ll be easier.”

“Are you sure?”

You took another deep breath and lied, “Positive.”

Mat didn’t look convinced, but he wasn't going to press you any further. So, with a nod of his head, he gestured toward the way of his apartment like you didn’t already know, “This way.”

The walk to his place wasn’t far at all, in fact, it was most likely closer than any of the bars you would definitely not make it to in time. So his apartment was a safe option as the two of you walked in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but the two of you were replaying the last time you were both in his apartment.

Once you arrived at the building, Mat waved at the doorman––whose eyes brightened at you with recognition––as he hit the up button on the elevator. The ride up was just as silent as the walk to his place, and when you stood in front of the door to his place, your palms began to sweat.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

But you stuck it through, and when Mat unlocked the door and let you in first, a wave of nostalgia hit you like a ton of bricks. Everything was the same, albeit a bit messier, but it felt almost like you were back in a home again.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over,” Mat let out a nervous laugh as he walked past you and picked some of his belongings up that were strewn across the floor.

You waved him off, heading over to the living room area, and folded a blanket for him, “Don’t worry about it.”

You heard Mat let out an anxious deep breath as you watched him turn around and head into the kitchen. He seemed just as nervous as you. When he was out of sight, you set the unevenly folded blanket down on the ottoman and walked over to the couch. You sunk down and let out a shaky breath that you had been holding in since you walked through the front door.

You didn’t have much time to dwell in your thoughts, because you heard Mat’s footsteps, and sat up straight on the couch. He came around the other side of the couch with a beer bottle in one hand for him, and then a wine glass and a wine bottle, for you. He set his beer and wine glass down on the coffee table as he took a seat next to you.

“As your bartender for the night,” he sarcastically said as he took the wine opener and screwed it into the cork of the bottle, “I expect a very nice tip for bringing your drink to you.” You laughed at his comment to lighten the mood, but all you could focus on was the way his arms flexed when he twisted the corkscrew around a few times, “I even provided you with a whole bottle of wine just for yourself.”

You let out a small laugh, “Lucky me,” you whispered just as Mat looked up at you through his eyelashes.

He offered you a small smile, and then went back to concentrating on opening the wine. When the corkscrew was in the center of the cork, he pressed his hands down on the miniature levers, and the bottle opened with pop.

He looked up at you with a proud smile and eyebrows raised proudly, “Eh?” He asked you as he poured you a glass, “You should be impressed.”

You snorted, “That you opened a wine bottle?”

“Mhm,” Mat hummed as he handed you the glass. You offered him a smile as a thanks, as he grabbed his beer and rested an arm on the back of the couch, “And that I didn’t spill any of it.”

With a roll of your eyes, you took a sip of wine, as your mind pieced together that you were drinking your favorite type of wine. That led to a flurry of questions in your mind because why––after all this time––would he still keep your favorite bottle of wine at his place?

But Mat asked you about how your presentation at work went before you were able to bring it up.

Much like the time spent at the sports bar earlier, it was all laughter and smiles, except this time you weren’t under the scrutinizing gaze of Kennady or the hesitant glances of Tito. It was just you and Mat, alone in his apartment, as if no time had passed. With every twenty minutes that went by, it felt as if Mat would move a tiny bit closer to you. You didn’t mind at all, and when he was close enough, you knocked your knee against his.

It was well past midnight, and you were still enjoying yourself the same as you did when you first walked in. The bottle of wine was nearly empty; Mat joining in on the wine drinking after he finished his beer.

Everything about the time spent at Mat’s place felt easy until the second hiccup of the night happened.

Mat placed his empty wine glass down on the coffee table and let out a deep breath through his nose. His face looked serious; eyebrows pinched together that caused a crease to form between his eyes, mouth pressed in a straight line, with his eyes firmly concentrated on you. The look made your stomach uneasy, so you finished off the last of your wine, and sat it down next to Mat’s empty glass.

You let out an apprehensive laugh as you leaned your side into the back of the couch, just below where Mat’s hand rested, “What’s on your mind, hockey player?”

With his hand so close to your shoulder, he stretched out his fingers and lightly grazed your shoulder. He gently moved his fingertips along your shoulder blade a few times before he gulped, “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you breathed out as a chill ran down your spine.

Both of your bodies were facing each other as he moved an inch closer to you. While his fingertips withdrew from your shoulder, he knocked his knee against yours. But instead of retracting it like he had done all night, he kept his knee against yours. With another deep breath through his nostrils, he inched closer to you again, his thigh pressing against yours.

You held your breath as you stared into his yearning eyes, and like he was telling you a secret, he whispered, “Sometimes you feel like a stranger.”

Your eyes widened, stunned at his confession. You were at a loss for words, but luckily you didn’t have to respond, because he expounded upon his admission.

“And it…It’s so frustrating,” his voice was low as he maintained eye contact with you; his soft eyes full of longing stared into your wide and timid eyes as his fingertips reached back down to touch your shoulders. But instead of just staying in one place, his fingertips trailed down to your collarbone, “I know how you relax after a stressful day,” his fingers slowly moved to the side of your neck as he let out a soft chuckle, “I know how you organize a closet.” HIs fingers moved painfully slow up your neck, “I know the facial expressions you make when you’re nervous…”

You clenched your jaw, as your breathing hitched, and you slightly tilted your head to the side to give his fingers more room to wander.

Mat traced his fingers along your jawline as he leaned his face closer to you, “I know what makes you happy,” you felt his breath fan against your face as his fingers caressed your cheek, “What pisses you off.” He kept his mouth in a straight line, jaw slightly clenched, as he moved his fingers to the back of your neck, cupping your cheek. He kept quiet, the only noise in the apartment that could be heard was your own heartbeat and Mat’s breathing.

Finally, he rested his forehead against yours as he slightly brushed the tip of his nose against yours. You kept your eyes wide open in anticipation, as Mat closed his eyes for a moment. He let out a shaky breath before slowly opening his eyes to look at you with an amount of adoration you’d never seen before, “How to love you.”

“We’re friends.”

“No we’re not,” his voice was strained with irritation. But this time, the irritation in his voice wasn’t directed at either you or hockey…his irritation was at himself, “All I want is to love you again but you’re so far away.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh and muttered, “You’re a stranger who I know better than anyone else.”

You brushed your nose against his, eyes glancing down at his lips, before looking back into his wistful eyes, “I’m right here.”

With your lips parted and breath shallow; the tone of your voice hinted at what you wanted to come next.

“If I were to kiss you,” Mat’s low voice murmured as he laid out his intentions, “Would you stay?”

“Yes.”

There was no wavering hesitation in your voice, only desire for the person in front of you who you’d spent too much time without. But Mat…Mat blinked a few times as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, staring at you as if he didn’t believe this was real life. The pull you felt toward him was stronger than any pull you felt toward anyone else. There was something in him that made him irresistible, he felt it in you as well, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Eyes closed, Mat pressed his lips against yours, desperate but chaste as you tasted the wine off him, both of you holding yourselves back for each other's sake. He rubbed his lips against yours, urging you to tip your head back. You leaned into his direction as your fingers carefully crept toward his stomach, clutching his shirt into a small fist.

The tip of his tongue peeked out in a quick stripe across your lower lip, and a strangled whimper in the back of your throat involuntarily left your lips. With his nose against your cheek, he took his hand that cupped your cheek, and ran it down your back. His palm and the tips of his fingers gliding across the expanse of your back; feeling every ridge of your spine, every bone, every dip, and every curve.

Ever so slowly, his hand trailed up your back, over your neck, as he cupped your cheek again. He deepened the kiss, tongues meeting with soft strokes, mouths hot with anticipation and need.

You had kissed Mat more times than you could count, but both of your movements were timid. While he had a hand on your cheek, his other hand laid stiff on the couch. And while your hands gripped his shirt, they weren’t physically touching him. There were so many thoughts circling your mind; how you never thought you’d be in this position again with Mat––having him want you again.

That’s when the first tear fell.

It had officially been a year and a half since your break up with Mat. A year and a half since you felt any sort of honest affection from a person. And it had only been about three months since you started to openly communicate with him again. It had taken you longer to watch a hockey game than it took for you to speak to him regularly again; longer to gain the courage to watch him skate in circles with a smile on his face because you knew he was happiest on the ice.

Happier there than he could ever be with you.

You broke away from his kiss with a sniffle.

Mat delicately pecked your lips one last time before pulling away. Your eyes were still shut tight, but you felt his burning stare on your face as his thumb wiped away the single tear from your cheek.

The second tear fell when he repeated the sentence that you didn’t know held any truth.

“You know I’d do anything for you.”

As if you were transported in time, you smelled the April air of two years ago seeping through the open car windows as Mat whispered that promise to you as he kissed your hand. But the other memory…The cruel and poignant memory that overshadowed the good memory of that sentence took over. Instead of the sweet April air, your mind fast forwarded to the month of December where the air was frigid and eliminated your relationship.

You sucked in another deep breath as you opened your eyes to get you out of the headspace of that bitter December day. Mat’s eyes were desperate––silently begging you not to go––as if he knew you were planning an escape.

“I can’t do this,” you dropped your hands from his shirt and moved away from him on the couch.

“Will you ever be ready to do this?” Mat’s voice shook, but he was withstanding from surrendering. You could now see the athlete in him––the dedication he used to train to attain all of his goals––coming out as he fought to mend your relationship, “I want to talk.”

Your hands shook just as bad as your voice, “I can’t.”

For the countless time tonight, Mat let out an irritated breath through his nostrils, “When will you be ready?”

“I don’t know.”

Mat leaned his head against the back of the couch as he rubbed his temples, “Don’t you miss this?” He turned his head to look at you, his bloodshot eyes noticeable in the dim lighting of his living room, “Don’t you miss us?”

“You broke up with me,” you reminded him as you flared your nostrils in annoyance, “You gave up on us.”

“I was confused!” Mat sat up and angled his body toward you as he threw his hands in the air, “I wanted to be with you––Still want to be with you––But something was off and I had to––”

The deja vu of Mat listing off reasons why something in the relationship wasn’t right––and how his judgement convinced himself that getting away from you would solve everything––caused bile to churn in your stomach.

You placed both hands on the cushions as you pushed yourself up, “I’m not doing this again.”

With your back to him, you itched the bridge of your nose as you sniffled away your runny nose. But even with your back to him, you could still hear the desperation and utter heartache behind his wavering voice.

“You told me I would end up alone and unloved,” you heard him inhale a shaky breath, all the confidence from his previous tone of voice gone, as he choked out his next words, “The one person who I love most in the world told me that––The person who I thought loved me––”

“I do––”

“Told me I would be unloved? That not even you could love me again if I didn’t put more effort into the right things?” You spun around on your heel to see a silent path of tears easily falling down his face, “Do you know how much that messed me up?”

“You told me I wasn’t enough,” you counteracted with just as desperate of a voice, “You told me––”

“We just didn’t see each other enough,” Mat’s words continued to cut you like a knife, “But I never said you would end up alone and––”

“Because I don’t want anyone else to love you!” your devastated tone matched his raised voice. His mouth slowly dropped open, “I loved you so much and you tore me apart.” You felt your throat tighten up, but you held back your tears as your voice cracked, “I wanted to be the last person to love you.”

Mat sat in silence on the couch as you stood a few feet away from him. Silences were never common in your relationship, but they were definitely more common now. Coming to terms in your head that he wasn’t going to say anything, you were about to turn around and make your way out of his apartment for the final time.

“Stay,” Mat stood up from the couch. His hand barely raised from his side, as if he wanted to reach out to keep you from leaving him, but his arm stayed stiff at his side, “It’s after two in the morning, I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed.”

“I’m not far from here,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “I can get an Uber.”

“Then I’ll take the Uber with you to your place.”

You let out a deep breath at his persistence, “That’s unnecessary––”

“Believe it or not,” Mat started his sentence out strong, but he took a pause and let his shoulders deflate as his tone softened, “I still really care for you and don’t want you in an Uber alone this late or walking up to your place alone. So please,” you hated the way your heart melted at his words, “Stay.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about his proposal. He had a point…Ubers alone at night in New York wasn’t the most ideal situation in the world. And you knew he would hop in the car with you; he always held your safety high on his priority list.

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head, “Okay.”

Mat let out a relieved breath, “You can…You know where everything is,” Mat awkwardly rubbed a hand behind his neck, “Everything’s the same.”

Except us, you thought to yourself.

You asked Mat if he had to get anything from his room, but he said he had some stuff stored in the spare bedroom where he would get ready for bed. And for what may be the last time, you wished each other goodnight as the two of you walked to separate ends of his apartment.

You blocked out every memory that swirled around your head as you entered his room and got ready for bed. Everything was going fine until you opened the cabinet under the sink and saw that he still had an unopened bottle of your shampoo that you always kept at his place. But you were done crying. Done crying over Mat. So you closed the cabinet, regretfully changed into one of Mat’s oversized t-shirts for pajamas, and slid under his covers.

With the sheets pulled up right under your chin, you laid on your side in a fetal position, as you stared out his window. There weren’t any stars in the sky, but instead of being in your bed and thinking about what Mat was up to when you couldn’t sleep, all you had to do was walk down the hall.

You tried everything you could to fall asleep, but none of the methods you usually used worked. Even when you stayed in separate bedrooms when Mat met your family for the first time, similarly down the hall from each other, you didn’t have any trouble sleeping like tonight. But back then, you and Mat were together in love. And this time…you and Mat were somehow still in love, but further apart than ever.

Fed up with not being able to get a decent night’s sleep in over a year, you flung the covers off and stepped out of bed, because you knew the cure to your insomnia was just a few feet away. Slowly, you opened the bedroom door and snuck out. You quietly closed the door and made your way to the living area where Mat said he was.

And in a few seconds you saw Mat, whose face was illuminated by his phone from above head as he scrolled. The single blanket he had only came up about halfway to his bare stomach.

As if he sensed another presence in the room, he turned his head. With an empathetic smile, because you imagined he had the same trouble falling asleep in this past year as well, he shut his phone off and placed it on the coffee table. Without a word, he lifted the blanket up, inviting you to sleep next to him.

You crawled in next to him, the side of your face pressed up against the crook of his neck. You let out a silent, uneven, breath as you felt his warmth spread across your body. And when he lowered the blanket, he curled a tight arm around waist, drawing shapes on your back as he held you close to him.

And the third tear fell when Mat pressed a firm kiss to your forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A year and a half of sobbing didn’t compare to the flood gates that opened up in this moment. Your senses were in overdrive, everything screamed Mat, and that one little forehead kiss paired with a simple apology tipped you over the edge. He held you tight as you cried into his chest, taking responsibility for the suffering he had put you through the past year and a half.

One of your arms was tucked under you, but your other arm was stretched across Mat’s chest as you clung to his bicep. Your shoulders violently shook as you muttered incoherent words out through choppy breaths.

You hurt me, you said. I know, he answered.

I never wanted to see you again, you said. I know, he answered.

I missed you so much, you said. I know, he answered.

I still love you, you said. And as your cries began to soften, he cradled you into his chest more as he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead; I still love you too, he answered.

It was the first night both of you slept soundly through the night, missing all of your alarms.

–––

New York in August was unbearably hot.

Between the larger than life gray skyscrapers and dark concrete that paved the city, the heat of the sun always got trapped in the most unpleasant way. With crowded sidewalks of people pressed shoulder to shoulder, the heat attached itself to sweaty bodies. With sewers that always smelled, but reeked even worse in the summer, the heat attached itself to the polluted water.

But if you paid close enough attention, there was a certain aroma in the air that always drew people into the city. And like how the skyscrapers and concrete trapped the heat in the most unpleasant way, the sweet smell of new beginnings that New York offered trapped people in the same way.

Walking down the sidewalk, with your fingers intertwined with Mat’s, you breathed in the captivating smell of New York.

The smell of new beginnings.

“Are you nervous or is the heat getting to you,” You looked up at Mat’s side profile with a smile as you pointed out his sweaty hand.

With black sunglasses covering his eyes, he kept his head forward as he chewed on his bottom lip, “It’s your family.”

You rolled your eyes as you came to the end of the sidewalk, waiting at the corner for the light to change, “You know them already.”

“Yeah, but––”

His words were cut off when the light changed and a mass amount of people crossed the street. You tugged him along with the crowd, “No buts,” you squeezed his hand, “They still love you.”

Mat shrugged his shoulders.

He knew the pain he caused when he broke up with you. And he knew that your mom, dad, and sister all witnessed the aftermath of what he put you through. There was part of him that would never forgive himself for acting so immature, and he was still working through his insecurities. But after that night of confrontation where you slept peacefully in his arms, he promised to always be upfront with his feelings.

You had been officially back together for four months, and made changes from the first time you were in a relationship, but Mat’s nerves surrounding your family were still present.

Your sister was the first to find out that you and Mat were back together. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her before she figured it out not even a month into your rekindled relationship. She called you out of the blue, and before you could greet her, she went straight to the point; Are you back together with Mat? You were a stuttering mess, not prepared to tell your family; You liked Tito’s most recent Instagram picture, your username came up next to the heart, and I know you unfollowed him after you weren’t with Mat.

Her sleuthing wasn’t that impressive, but you couldn’t lie to your sister. She warned you that a few more jokes would come at his expense to turn him red.

You told your mom in June. You had let it casually slip that you were going out with Mat for the day, and she was silent on the other end for a few moments. Like any mother who held their child as they openly sobbed after the end of a relationship, she was skeptical. But you reassured her that changes were made, and continue to be made, so it wouldn't end like the last time…So your relationship wouldn’t end at all.

She said as long as you were happy, she was happy.

You also told your dad in June, a week after you told your mom, because you knew she wouldn’t be able to hold onto that secret for long. It took a bit more planning and practicing on your end to tell him. You saw the way his jaw clenched and eyes full of hurt whenever he saw you cry. And when you told him, he sounded stiff, and reminded you that you were too good for him. But like your mom, you reassured him that things had changed; Mat had changed.

He reminded you that he never liked Mat that much to begin with.

When you and Mat reached the restaurant you were set to meet your family at, Mat opened the door for you. A breeze of air conditioning and the smell of clean air brought you out of your thoughts.

"Your dad’s already glaring at me and we’re not at the table yet.”

You let out a laugh and rested your forehead against Mat’s bicep briefly as you looked up at him with a smile, “Don’t worry, I talked to him plenty before this and told him to be on his best behavior.”

Mat took his sunglasses off, and as he stared down at you, you finally caught a look at his hazel eyes that shined bright with admiration for you, “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

You dropped his hand and elbowed him at his sarcastic comment.

“Finally, you’re here,” your sister was the first one up from her seat to greet you with a hug.

You hugged her back tightly, “We’re on time, you guys got here early.”

She held you at arms length away and gave you a knowing look saying that of course they were going to show up early. It was the re-meeting the boyfriend lunch. She slightly gazed over your shoulder at Mat, who was politely talking with your mom, and you rolled your eyes silently telling her he was more nervous than the first time. She deviously smirked.

With a stiff handshake and a curt, Mathew, from your dad, you knew Mat felt as if he was drowning.

Appetizers and a bottle of wine were ordered for the table before you and Mat were present, so they arrived shortly after the two of you were seated next to each other. Like the first time Mat was around your family, he sat with perfect posture as he rapidly tapped his index finger against his thigh.

You discreetly scooted your chair closer to his.

Mat had just finished his first glass of water when your mom brought up hockey, “How did this season go, Mat?”

“It went well,” he answered as he took the water pitcher from the center of the table and poured himself another glass, “There were a few times we went up and down in ranking, but all in all, it was a strong season.”

“I watched a few highlights,” your dad said after he finished swallowing an appetizer, “You played well, especially towards the end of the season.”

Mat shyly smiled, his eyes glancing at you, because toward the end of the season was when you started communicating more, “Yeah, the end of the season was the best.”

You knocked your knee against Mat’s.

“And almost made it to the Cup again,” your dad shook his head with a light smile, “How’s the team looking this season?”

Mat took a sip of water, “We’re looking good. A few changes to the roster, but all for the best.” He fiddled with the white cloth napkin on his lap, “If you guys––I don’t know the next time you’re in town, but just let me know if you want to go to a game.” Mat smiled at your dad, and then turned to your mom, “I know my family wants to come down for a game.”

Your mom’s eyes lit up, “Oh, that would be wonderful!”

“Thanks, Mat,” your dad easily smiled, “I appreciate that.”

Mat shrugged his shoulders, a smile slowly growing on his face as your dad called him by his nickname, “I know how much you all like hockey, might as well use me for what I’m good for.”

Your parents laughed at his comment right as the waiter came up to take everyone’s order for their main course. You, Mat, and your sister had ordered, so your parents weren’t paying attention to your little trio.

“So, Mat,” your sister stretched out the lone vowel in his name, “Looks like you won the girl back before your franchise could win the Stanley Cup.”

Your eyes widened at her bluntness. It was always hard for a team to be so close to clinching that championship title––and well deserved praise as they lifted the Cup above their heads––only for it to be ripped away from them. And for the Islanders to be in that position another year, losing in the final round, it only aided in more salt to the wound.

Mat’s face still turned red at her unapologetic comment, but he recovered quickly, and wasn’t nearly as blindsided by her words like he was the first time. Instead, Mat offered your sister an easy smile, as he quickly made eye contact with you. His smile widened, “I think I won something better.”

Mat knocked his knee against yours.

#Mat Barzal #Mat Barzal fic #Mat Barzal imagine #Mat Barzal fluff #Mathew Barzal #Mat Barzal writing #Mat Barzal x Reader #Mat Barzzal Oneshot #Mat Barzal one shot #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal angst #mathew barzal fic #mat barzal new york islanders #new york islanders #mathew barzal new york islanders #honest to god why is tagging a thing sdlkjf hopefully i tagged all the right things!! ta!!

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strawberrylemonz · 4 years ago

Text

Introductions

Part 11

Part 12 [CURRENT]

Part 13

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin and @sydneys-sketches

------------

Uncertainty filled the group as they walked through the open gates, allowing the guests to freely venture in. As the crowd began to pass them, venturing off to different parts of the park, the lovely trio tried to get the group’s minds off of their worries. Lani was the first to pipe up.

“So, what’s the first area of the park?”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Tommy immediately beamed with pride. Pulling up the pamphlet, he pointed to the first section before pointing at the crossroads sign by the group.

“Tavern Town! Oh, you guys are going to love the cavern, you all have your own sections to represent each of you! Except Grian, he has two. I also added Kristin, Theo and Clementine! It’s all cool and shit.”

“A section? For me? Oh, Tommy! I knew I was your best friend! I’m smiling behind my mask! Let’s get going, then!”

“You’re still short as hell, Drista”

“I am not! At least my posture isn’t crap”

“My posture is perfectly fine!”

“Tell me that when you don’t need to fix it once it’s brought up”

“Shut up”

Adjusting the wiggly child in his arms, Tommy stuck his tongue out at Drista before leading the group through the archway for Tavern Town. There, they encountered their first member of Dream’s server.

“Tommy, Tubbo, thank god you two are alright! And Fundy, I’m glad you’re safe with them!”

Tommy didn’t tense up at the voice, why would he? As Grian plucked Clementine from Tommy’s arms, Tommy turned and smiled. Walking up with joy, he opened his arms in a welcoming manner.

“Sam! Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d be here! Guys, this is Sam! He’s great, you guys. Holy shit, Sam, I still have the creeper head you gave me.”

Taking notice of the genuine relief in Sam’s face and tone, Tommy allowed him to give him a hug. Tubbo joined in, Fundy following in suit. After everyone pulled away, Sam got a good look at them all. Giving a genuine smile, he let out a laugh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Man, look at you all. You’ve all grown, I can hardly recognize you guys. I was so nervous that you were all gone for good. I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough to keep you from the terrible things you faced up until your disappearance. I-”

“It’s not your fault, man. No one could have seen that coming.”

“That’s not an excuse, Tommy. You were a child who didn’t get to be a child. You shouldn’t have had to deal with what you dealt with.”

“Tommy! Tubbo! Fundy! There you guys are! Sam, you found them!”

Tubbo smiled as he bolted in for a hug, Tommy and Fundy laughing as they waved to the new addition to the conversation.

“Puffy!”

The rest of the group watched with smiles at the reunions, Lani and Drista waving hellos when they were acknowledged. After being handed off to other members of the group, Theo and Clem were eventually put down on the ground. Huffing around with how much attention they were not receiving, they decided to do something about it. Shifting into a pig, Clem gave her cousin a nod, which Theo returned. Inhaling, the two opened their mouths and let their presences known. Clem began squealing like a pig as Theo stood beside her, head in the air as he let out a monotone scream. They didn’t stop, completely disregarding the pleas from the group. Finally, they were lifted into the arms of Fundy and Tommy. Theo immediately closed his mouth into a smile, smiling blankly at an amused Sam and Puffy. Clem squealed once more, before poofing back into her usual self, a gremlin grin being thrown at Sam and Puffy.

“Sorry about that. This is Theo, my son. That, over there, is Clementine, but we call her Clem. She’s Tommy’s.”

After hearing her name, Clem perked up in Tommy’s arms. Giving a determined smile, she clenched her fists and glared at Sam, who was standing there in utter confusion. As he opened his mouth to nervously ask about her actions, Sam was left speechless as Clem poofed once more. She was inexperienced, that much was certain, but she was also determined. This was obvious based on her current form. As she beamed up at him, Sam could only stare as creeper-like features covered the small child. As she shifted back to her usual form, she and Theo clapped at her achievement. Laughing at the interaction, Tommy held Clementine towards Sam. After looking back at Tommy for a final nod of approval, Sam carefully pulled an excited Clem into his arms. His nervousness from holding the child increased the moment she put her small hands on his face, curious. He held his breath as he stared down at her curious, blue eyes. His concern, however, melted away the moment she giggle and papped his cheeks over and over again with her tiny hands, squealing happily as she did so.

“Holy shit, Sam, she seems to have warmed up to you quickly. Aside from Theo, you’re the only one. Even Fundy took a while.”

“My heart is wounded, she's chosen Sam over me”

“You’re my number one, Papa”

“Thank you, Theo. You’re mine, too”

Sam beamed with pride and happiness at the confirmation that Clem liked him. As she turned to face Puffy, she squeaked and shrunk into Sam’s embrace, her face flushing. As she mumbled incoherent words, she waved at the woman, who gave a friendly wave back. Tommy let out a laugh as he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Puffy, she likes you. She’s just shy because you’re pretty, she does that to a lot of the people she meets.”

“I LIKE YOUR HAIR!”

Puffy blinked a few times before peering down. There, tugging her coat whilst pointing at her hair with starry eyes, stood a small Theo. Fundy made confused noises as he glanced between his arms and his son, not sure how he didn’t realize that he had escaped his embrace. As Fundy stood there, questioning the small boy, Puffy just smiled. Kneeling down, she plucked the entranced child off the ground and into her arms.

“Thank you! Isn’t it nice? You wanna touch it?”

A joyful laugh left her mouth as the small child nodded his head ferociously. Once he had her approval, he climbed up her, laying on her shoulder for support. Letting out a laugh, he plunged his tiny paws into her hair. Gasping in delight, he kicked his feet, which were hanging off Puffy, with excitement, whilst being sure to not hit her. With a giddy laugh, he caught the attention of his younger cousin, who was playing with Sam’s fingers.

“Clem! ClemClemClemClemClemClem! Look! Her hair is soft!”

Puffy could only laugh as Theo propelled himself up, throwing himself backwards. As she caught the child in her arms, he smiled at his dad, who was rubbing his temples.

“Papa! Her hair is so colorful and soft and pretty!!!!”

“Puffy, I am so sorry-”

“Don’t be! He’s adorable! Cute little duckling”

“Duckling? But? Wait, Papa, I thought I was a fox. Am I really a duckling? Clem, am I a duckling?”

Theo peered over to his cousin, who was ignoring him. Frowning, he crossed his arms and sunk into Puffy’s hold as he watched his cousin as she put her hand against Sam’s, their palms touching. Eye’s widening at the size difference, she glanced up at the amused man.

“Hand! Big! Big hand! Hand is big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big!”

“Heh, yeah! I have a bigger hand.”

Laughter came from the group as the small girl nodded, incoherent words leaving her mouth. Realizing that they wouldn’t be getting their children back any time soon, Fundy shook his head as Tommy smiled at the sight. After a few more words were exchanged, Tommy led their group into the cavern. Sucking in a breath, he watched as Sam and Puffy walked over to their sections, taking in every detail Tommy put in. As Theo and Clem pointed out their favorite bits, Tommy joined Tubbo’s side, who was looking at his own, Drista and Lani standing next to him, comparing their own sections to each other.

“You added so much. Is that a copy of my compass?”

“Yeah, it points to my own compass”

“Awwwwww”

“Don’t aw me, Tubbo”

“Okay, Tommy”

“Hey, Tommy! Is it alright if we move to the next rows of sections? Clemmy and Theo want to show us their favorite parts”

“Yeah, Sam, sure. Let’s get going”

Grian ruffled Tommy’s hair, who griped and complained about his hair. Kristin playfully bopped Grian’s head before she peered behind her at Sam and Puffy, who were both entranced with the children in their arms. Tommy only stopped when a hand stopped him in his place. Peering to the owner of the arm, he quirked an eyebrow at Drista. Slightly lifting her mask, she frowned and pointed a finger in front of the group. There, standing in front of the large section for the royal family of the Antarctic Empire, was the remaining members of the Dream SMP. Although he couldn’t mentally construct the sentences he found names slipping from his mouth as he spotted them, standing directly in front of the family portrait.

“Phil? Techno? Wi-Wilbur?”

#memories in the stars #memories in the stars au #hermit!tommy au #hermit!fundy #hermit!Kristin #hermit!Tommy fankid #fwt fankid theo #Grian is Tommy's brother pog #Sam and Puffy are fan favorites for Clem and Theo #I'm telling you now that Clementine adores Awesamdude #Theo adores Puffy's hair and captain style

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years ago

Text

02.5. bang chan / 5497 words

dom!chan who goes soft because he loves mc, fluff, daddy kink that stopped mid-way, a little size kink + corruption kink, virgin!female reader, unprotected sex but reader is on birth control, the littlest amount of cockwarming at the end

chan's eyes have gone darker. it was different than the gaze you saw when you were still kneeling between his knees with an incredible size in your mouth. it was smug back then, a flicker of triumph washing over with each blissful lick of your tongue.

they were more mature now, the inky blackness of his eyes an intriguing storm you somehow felt as ease looking into. it was enticing—chan was enticing.

the way he could look as if he was completely ready to devour you whole, to give you the best fuck of your life, but he would also make sure each part of you would be taken care of with the utmost attention and respect was beyond your imagination.

he brought you up from the ground, his torso leaning down so he could place his hand on your waist. effortlessly, he hoisted you up with your help and set you down on his lap, your legs straddling his abdomen where his shaft shamelessly poked at your entrance.

chan could see the way your eyes swirled with excitement you didn't know how to express properly. and while it was, undeniably, adorable, it was ultimately a very huge turn-on for him to see you so helpless in such dirty desires unless prompted to speak and act by him.

he smiled, it was not so much a soft smile but a mockingly degrading one. he stroked your cheek then, his thumb traveling to your mouth pressing against your lower lip, dragging it down until a whimper left your lips when he glided his thumb between your teeth.

"oh, baby girl." he admired the way your tongue curled around his tongue, your teeth trying hard not to accidentally clamp down on his skin. his cum was still staining your lips, and he pushed the taste against your tongue to clean it up. "you are basically useless without daddy's help, aren't you?"

your hands flew up to grab his wrist, your verbal agreement came out strangled because of the way his thumb was forcing your mouth open. gentle praises left his lips when he soon removed his finger, his eyes fixed on trail of saliva.

and that was when he leaned in to kiss you, his plump lips eager and delicious. you reciprocated immediately, your eyes shutting tight and your hands flying up to grip his shoulders for support.

oh, chan had wanted this for so long. years after years, he waited for the day he could wipe those lipsticks off your face like this. albeit, you were not wearing any at the moment, but the faint taste of honey chapstick was good enough for him.

a moan escaped to his mouth when he brought his hands to your ass and guided you to grind down on his length. you could feel his shape with your heat, a sensation much more different than when you could feel his size in your mouth. chan continued to push you down on him, finding it hard to stop himself as his arousal started to drip from his chest again.

oh, but cumming from this would be such a waste if the real thing was only two thin fabrics away.

pulling away from your mouth, his lips attached to your jaw as he kissed you up your face before leaning close to your ear. a whisper left his lips, causing your moans to cease and a shudder to run down your sensitive veins.

"can i make you feel good?"

you tightened your grip on his shoulders and nodded, "yes."

"full sentence, baby girl," he warned, giving your ass a squeeze.

"yes–yes. i want daddy to make me feel good, plea–please." you said shyly, not daring to look in his eyes as a blush crept onto your cheek.

chan couldn't even bring himself to scold you for not making eye-contact at this point. even the way you stutter out your desire overwhelmed his senses, the affection blossoming in his chest made him both want to pepper sweet kisses all over your face and fuck you so relentlessly that euphoria becomes the only emotion you could feel.

and so he acted on his affection. he took your shirt off in a blink of an eye, throwing it on the floor somewhere as his eyes landed on your perky breasts. he stared at it, adoring the way they simply sit so perfectly before him, then he allowed himself to touch you after leaning in to catch your lips again.

chan's hands have never been more ghostly than before.

ghostly not in a way where his hands were cold and unsettling. his big hands were attractively rough and warm, covering all surfaces of your neck and your breasts when he clamped over them after asking for permission through a delicate touch.

he was twisting and pulling at your nipples, pinching lightly and flicking them like little toys. and it was a fascinating feeling, like a serotonin boost, to have your boobs be fondled and paid such delicate interest to because masturbating had only given your breasts the aid of one hand and about fifty percent of your concentration.

"sit up," chan commanded after he pulled away.

you did as he told, bringing yourself up and waiting patiently as he pulled your shorts and your panties down, revealing your naked body to him fully. he leaned back to give your body an overview after he helped you out of your clothes and you wanted to clamp your legs shut in embarrassment. but it seemed chan had already planned for this and therefore, placed you in such a position where your legs were spread on each side of his thighs.

"ah!" you squealed when chan brought his hand over to cup your heat, the tip of his fingers dipping into your soaked lips, and you felt yourself clench around nothing just from the expectation of having him fully shove his digits inside you.

the excitement and slight unfamiliarity of having someone else's finger get so close to a place so private were, overall, more welcomed than you thought. especially when the person was bang chan out of everyone else that could have been in this position—a kind friend, a comfortable friend, a damn sexy friend.

"can i?" he whispered, tilting his head up to look at you, his eyes careful and wide as his fingers patiently awaited your approval.

"yes, you can." you nodded in anticipation.

chan slid in two fingers from the get-go, his heart jumping faintly as you gasped an quick intake of breath and your eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling, like you were trying to understand the blissful feeling his mere fingers were creating for you.

he went slow, sliding in and out of your heat, watching with intrigue as you shuddered and moaned under his touch. it was just to make sure he wasn't going too much for you the first time, and because he learned that there was a special kind of seduction from being slow and sensual during such intimate act.

it was the thoroughness of it. the idea of being so intimate with someone that you could feel them from inside out—their warmth, their tightness, their love spots. and when realize you could imprint yourself on both their body and their head on the unimaginable pleasure you made them feel? god, that just made it all the better.

it was just the right amount of affection with enough amount of possessiveness woven into the equation.

"ahh, chan—" you called, lowering your head to the nape of his neck to hide away as you felt his fingers press against your wall and gather up your slickness in a beckoning movement. the squelch of his thrusts heating up a heavy blush all over your body, you were embarrassed but so, so greedy for more as well.

he paused his movement, his brows furrowing at the sound of his name. while mindful about the fact that he has gotten quite into character, and you should be addressing him by the title established previously, he didn't hate hearing that. no, not at all.

if anything, hearing his name coming out of your mouth in such a lewd way was all he ever wanted. it aroused him, he was probably leaking from the tip at this point. it was his name that came out of your mouth and nobody else's, after all. somehow that ticked him off his possessive edge.

upon the small moment of him pausing the movements of his fingers, your impatient self has decided to take it upon yourself to feel some kind of satisfaction and started lowering yourself on his fingers, whimpering as you fucked yourself on those long digits.

chan noticed it since he could feel his fingers disappearing into your hotness ever so often. his eyes were so focused on the way your expression scrunched and you gasped with each fall of your thighs, trying so hard to get more of him inside you but also being tired from moving so much.

you weren't used to it, he could see from the stuttering of your movement, but still, your neediness overrode your inadequacy and you clawed at his shoulders to get what you wanted.

fuck, needy and useless. what would he do with you?

(a lot of things. but most of all, he wanted to fuck you so well that your brain short-circuits and his name becomes the only thing you could utter. just the word 'chan' over and over again.)

"someone is greedy, hmm?" he mused, thrust his fingers up into your core and earning a squeal from you. he leaned close to your chest then, nudging his chin against the middle of your breasts and smiling as he whispered. "but fingers are no good. let me show you the real deal."

your eyes widened in surprise when he pulled out of you and grabbed you by your waist. he tugged you down onto his lap, letting you sit on him and having your core meet the bulging of his naked shaft. you looked at him, your brows furrowing shyly as your jaw dropped in a moan when he shifted his hip so his skin ran along your slit.

chan was teasing your desire, enticing you to want more, and you did want more.

he wasn't being too rough with the humping, but he did nudge up against your heat once or twice as he guided your hips along his dick, letting your dripping essence sweeten him up thoroughly. and that—oh, the way he felt so long and big underneath you stirred up so much aching inside you; that was a sensation you have never experienced before and would likely never forget.

"chan–chan, i–" you sucked in a deep breath when you felt him stop. and when he looked up at you softly, hoping your next words would be a plead rather than a request from a sudden change of mind, you suddenly found it harder to verbalize your wants.

"i feel empty," you said instead.

he raised a brow, the previous concern gone in a second when he realized that he had made you aroused enough, to a point where you were forced to acknowledge the need to have your cunt be filled. now he was just lustful, knowing he finally got the chance to stick himself inside of you.

"huh?" he asked, lifting you up before his hand reached down to his cock. he grabbed it before directing his tip to your lips, running it up and down your slit lightly just to watch you squirm in excitement. "you want this, hmm? you want chan to fuck you?"

"y–yes." you nodded.

"full sentence, baby girl," he said again, his voice much lower upon the second warning. "you need to start using your words."

"yes, i want chan to fuck me." you whined, your legs shaking slightly at the way his kept ever so slightly poking at your entrance, threatening to insert himself but not enough to make you taste the sweetness of his stretch. "please, chan, i need you."

you gasped his name again, twice, and he licked his lower lip at the feeling it gave him.

oh god, he might have just discovered something incredible.

he hoisted you up suddenly then, and he turned you on your back as he pinned you down on the couch. he got on top after shaking his pants off completely, his lips finding yours once again for a bit of preparation.

you returned his kiss, your back arching off the couch surface when you felt his hand grip your thigh to drag them to his back. and when he once again poked his member at your entrance, he pulled away from the kiss and looked down at you.

"remember you can stop this anytime you want, okay, baby?" he said, nodding at you when you did so eagerly.

"oh wait!" you said before he could actually enter you, and you pursed your lips sheepishly when he eyed you with concern. you laughed lowly, shy and just downright loveable in his eyes. "can you take your shirt off too?"

chan huffed out a loose laugh, his eyes crinkling into bright little moons before he gladly did as you asked. your eyes shamelessly trailed down his pale body, passing this promising arms and toned chest, then to the freckles on his sides and finally his v-line.

you only broke out of your trance when he reached down to kiss the tip of your nose, laughing at you when you shook your head and stuttered to explain your staring.

god, how could you be this adorable? how could you be so loveable yet so goddamn arousing at the same time?

you bit your lower lip, giving his arms a squeeze. "sorry if i ruined the mood a little," you said. "it's just warmer like this... and i... i feel more comfortable not being the only one completely naked."

"oh no, of course not, baby." he kissed you to reassure you that everything was okay. "you are doing very well, actually. and it's never bad to say what makes you comfortable, okay?"

you looked at him, his kind eyes close and welcoming. your chest ached a little at how gently he was treating you. this swirling feeling, the kind that made you feel like you were twirling on water and flying as light as air in the clouds, this kind of safety and happiness were nothing anyone has ever given you before.

and it touched you, even more, when you knew chan could have easily just fucked into you and call it a night. he could have been so much rougher with you, focusing solely on fulfilling his own desires instead of taking the time to prioritize yours. and he could have just asked you for permissions once and neglect it, instead of asking in between multiple times and making sure you knew you had the ultimate control over this situation.

"thank you for being so patient with me when you don't have to," you croaked out then.

he broke into a soft smile, one hand reaching up to stroke your hair. somewhere down the line he almost forgot this was your first time, and that made it all the more precious to him and gave him all the more reasons to be as tender as he could with you despite that scorching hotness in his chest.

"always," he hummed, his hair falling slightly over your eyes as he leaned in to judge your nose. "unless you want otherwise then i will gladly do that as well."

you smiled, tightening your legs around his hips and pulling him to you. chan hummed in amusement, seeing that you were hinting at him to start giving you what you both wanted, and he squeezed your cheek out of pure affection before he said, "this is going to hurt a little so tell me if you want me to stop."

with a nod from you, he pushed himself into you. the first gasp came from him, surprisingly. it was a very soft gasp that he chocked out of his lips as soon as he tip brushed past your entrance and went deeper into your hole. and then yours erupted in small painful whimpers that chan tried his best to kiss away.

he was big, really big. your legs stretched and bent automatically and your hands gripped at his arms at the feeling of his dick sliding so slowly into you. chan leaned down to kiss your cheeks, his hands stroking your side and your hair to calm you down until he finally bottomed out inside of you.

the painful part was over, he thought, now he could move. but then you suddenly clenched around him on impulse, and he groaned out loud at the feeling, his hand going down to press on your tummy so you wouldn't move around so much.

"oh fuck–baby girl, you need to relax a little–"

you were tight. really, magnificently tight and small. your walls were clenching at the sudden stretch, sticking to him to both swallow him up and to keep him in place. even with the slickness of your essence. the pressure of his cock being squeezed all over was overwhelming his senses and he moaned into the crook of your neck when you suddenly relaxed and did the same thing again.

fuck, fuck, fuck! he knew he promised himself to be gentle with you, but oh, imagine the impeccable friction you two could cause if he was to fuck you fast and hard? to have your walls sticking to him every inch of the way as he desperately ruts himself into you?

how should anyone expect him to successfully hold himself back from you?

"are you feeling okay?" he asked, his voice low and moany. "because i feel fucking good, you're making me feel fucking good with how tight you are."

"y–yes, i–" you sucked in a quick breath. "chan, please move."

he hummed, taking himself out slower than wanted because your cunt was literally sucking him in place, and he moved back in just the same way; same pace and same tightness.

but that didn't mean you couldn't feel the pleasure from him rubbing against your walls. in fact, you could feel very thoroughly all that he was making you feel. his length, his girth, his strength as he thrust into you hard and slow—it was hot, it was exciting, it was mesmerizing.

your walls were slowly relaxing the more chan moved inside of you. it was starting to get easier for him to move in and out, and taking your gentle moans as verbal cues, he finally picked up his pace and started to thrust into you a bit faster.

he kissed you to drown out your moans, and also just for the sake of kissing you. the hand that still laid on your tummy from a minute ago when you were sucking him in unconsciously pressed down on your skin, and chan let out a satisfied groan against your mouth at how he could feel the little bumps of his dick with each thrust against your small body.

"ugh, you're so fucking small!" he complimented, although it did sound more like a laughable mockery than anything else. and you whined in faint agreement, liking the fact that you appeared so much tinier under his weight much more than you expected yourself to.

it was like your mind was screaming at him to manhandle you, to move you around and press you against places, which you supposed he has been, alongside taking care of you like you're his literal love.

his hand moved up to your throat and wrapped itself around it so he could use it as leverage to move faster and still pin you on the couch. you arched your back at the sudden change of speed, opening your mouth to let out a quiet and breathless moan.

and chan stared at how you threw your head back to gasp for air, his grip not loosening with how much loved hearing your choked moan mixing with the sharp intake of oxygen.

god, he wondered if it would feel the same when he fuck your throat while you laid on your back like this, his bulge taking up space and blocking the air from flowing in properly. your little mouth would do such a great job, he could already tell.

he could do that, perhaps somewhere down the line. but you couldn't handle him all right now, understandably. even then, though, with the amount that you could, you were making him feel the best he has ever experienced. imagine if chan trained you enough to take all of him, with his huge cock and his preference for a much rougher, eye-rolling, and mouth-drooling sex.

just to be able to lose himself completely and do whatever he wants with you was a thought arousing enough for him to get washed over with pleasure.

he leaned down to your neck, his hand sliding to the side to expose your skin. you widened your eyes when he licked a long strip along the middle of your throat, then he angled his head to plant a kiss on the side before he clamped his teeth down. you whined at the way his teeth grazed against your skin, sucking and leaving dots of black-purple hues.

hickeys. chan was leaving hickeys, possessively.

he wasn't sure when exactly you would be going on a date with whoever that nameless boy was, frankly he couldn't give two shits. he only cared to mark you enough that the cherry bruises would still be permanent when that boy does what he told you to be prepared for.

chan wanted that little frat boy to know someone had done something to you already, something unbelievably good and better than whatever he could provide. and he wanted these marks to remain as a memory you couldn't forget when you've got another man's dick inside you.

or just don't have anyone else inside you, chan could totally get around that as well.

"baby, i'm gonna move faster, okay?" he mumbled against your neck, kissing it when you nodded.

you hugged him to your neck, your hand squeezing the tense muscles of his back occasionally as a way to praise him aside from letting your needy voice does all the job. your feet felt up his back upon the dazed feeling of him rapidly thrusting into you, an unplanned movement that didn't go unnoticed by him.

his hand went to your thigh, pulling your leg up easily and propping it on his shoulder. and the next thrust he made after your hole has narrowed its path for him, his tip finally met the slick spot within. it was one hit, but the adrenaline rushed up to your brain, and your legs jerked at the ecstatic feeling that coursed through your veins.

"chan!"

oh he knew. he knew he found your g-spot so he had quickly held onto your leg and pressed himself against your body in order for him to ram against it repeatedly. your breasts bounced with each heavy, quick thrusts, your erected nipples poking against his hot skin and adding to the sensitivity.

to add to the sparks blasting off in your abdomen, chan moved a hand down to your clit and he pressed his fingers against it for a reaction. you gasped, and he smirked, his hand rubbing and adding pressure to the sensitive bud.

the friction was starting to sound wet and squelchy the quicker he moved in and out of your cunt. and the knot that has been building up inside you was finally taunting you of your climax, bringing soreness to your hole and making you see blurs of his face. you were close, and it was an unfamiliar feeling since you have never made yourself orgasm before.

"chan, i think i'm gonna–mmm." you pursed your lips together, unsure how to say it.

he brought his hand over to your face then, his fingers wet from turning circles on your clit previously. letting your leg fall off his shoulder, he opted to spread it out more by pressing against your inner-thigh before he snapped harshly against you once, feeling you clench around him at the impact.

"i see, does my baby want to cum?" he asked, smiling like he wasn't just trying—still trying—to bring you over the edge by pounding hard into you.

you nodded, a movement that sparked quite the infuriation when he has repeatedly told you to use your words before. frowning, chan abruptly grabbed you by the throat and mercilessly snapped his hips against yours to prove a point. he breathed into your ears then, sounding rather angry but it could also just be him trying to suppress his own sounds because of how hard you were squeezing his cock

"what did i say about using your words, baby girl?" he growled under his breath, abusing your wet hole with a massive amount of strength so he hits your spot hard.

your eyes were starting to blur at the feeling. it felt good, it was better than anything you could have done to yourself, but a part of you wanted something else. you wanted company before you lose your head and burst into a jittery climax, the kind that wasn't heavy growling and hands around your throat.

it wasn't like you were scared of orgasming. you just thought you would feel different—better—with the softer kind of intimacy when you do; it was the passion and the love you have been aching for since you knew what sex was. and you didn't want to have your years of daydreaming about interlocking hands with someone just to end up in you climaxing alone.

"chan, chan, i'm close–please–"

he wasn't responding to you, getting a little too immersed in giving you the littlest amount of punishment his heart was willing to allow for your first time. just a hint of his roughness, nothing too painful, and all he did was grunt with his head hidden at the crook of your neck, drowning in the blissful way his cock kept sliding into your wetness, engulfing him in incredible warmth.

but you thought he was mad at you for not using your words like he told you three times ago, and something about that made your chest spin with a surprising ache.

"i'm sorry, chan, i'll speak from now–ahh, i'm going to–" you mixed in an uncontrolled cry, feeling your climax nearing. your hands moved to his hand, desperately gripping at his fingers as you whimpered. "mmm–chan, please–please hold my hand."

upon hearing that, he quickly perked his head up. your mouth was opened as you let out gentle, sob-like breathes and you were looking at him with a glimmer of tears. he softened, his heart melting tragically in a moment of weakness.

"hey, hey, i'm here," he whispered, removing his hand from your neck so he could lace his fingers through yours and he placed it to the side of your head, feeling you loosely hanging on him.

"oh, my sweet baby." he kissed your eyes, hoping to get rid of the unfallen tears by letting you know his affection was all yours to keep, and then he moved down to your lips and kissed you carefully.

he continued to move, not stopping the pleasure for the world. you squeezed his hand with a moan after a moment. "oh god, i'm close, please."

"cum for me, baby girl," he broke away to say, his lips tracing the surface of yours ghostly as he increased his speed to bring you over the edge.

the intoxicating punches against your love spot pushed you off when you made eye-contact with chan, his eyes flaring with a somewhat animalistic glare. your mind spiraled into a frenzy as your toes curled and you moaned, loudly without care that anyone passing outside the apartment floor might hear you.

chan grunted at the clench, feeling your hot essence slipping between his shaft and your walls. his own high was building up, he could feel it. and when he buried his head to your chest, fucking into you so he could chase his own release, you reached your free hand to the back of his head and stroked his hair, calming yourself down.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum–are you on birth control, baby girl?"

you sucked in a breath at what he was insinuating, and you nodded. "yes, i am."

"i am going to cum inside you, okay?"

"okay," you breathed out.

chan grunted then, snapping his hips against yours a few more times before he paused. his cock pulsated, twitching as his high skyrocketed, and soon enough he released his load into your cunt with a final moan.

your cum mixed together, thick and warm around his shaft. after filling you up, he continued to rock himself into you to soothe the high down and to fuck the dripping cum back inside your hole for a while before he collapsed on top of you.

he nuzzled his cheek against your breasts, bringing your intertwined hands down to kiss the back of your palm and feeling you breathe under him. there was solace in the silence of your panting, hearing it slowly come to a peaceful halt while you both drowned in each other's embrace.

the attachment he felt towards you has only magnified during this intimate encounter. for the first time, he didn't think about rolling over to the other side after he's done, for the first time he wanted to keep being near someone, he wanted to remember how great it felt to love you with such passion and care.

"was that okay, (name)?" he asked then, looking up at you with shy anticipation.

you pursed your lips. did he need to ask? like all the clenching and the whimpering and the slickness of your walls weren't indications enough that he made your first time an absolutely phenomenal experience.

"yes, yes it was," you said softly, nodding at him. "god, i think you just boosted my standard sky high."

he laughed nervously, not quite liking the connotation behind you still having a standard. did that mean you still planned on laying with someone else? someone who wasn't him? he tightened his arms around you unconsciously at the thought.

your phone rang suddenly then, a notification popping up. releasing your hand from chan's, you reached over and flipped it up. you sighed a little in annoyance. "oh, it's him again," you said, a bit of laughter in your voice. "nice timing, right after everything."

before you could bring the phone to your face and give the boy a reply, chan lifted himself up slightly and reached over to press your hand down. he interlocked your fingers again, his face leaning close and staring into your confused eyes.

"are you really still going to go out with him?" he asked lowly, his finger drawing circles at your side. "are you still going to let him fuck you?"

"i–" you gasped in a breath, one which he kissed away.

his slowly moved his lips against yours, his teeth nibbling on your lower lip and poking a tongue into your mouth when you opened yourself completely for him. it was one hell of a kiss—passionate and sensual, slow and hot. and he made it so much more memorizing when he nudged himself against you, the tip of his cock sliding further inside and staying within.

"chan–"

"i'm gonna ask you again, baby girl." he pulled away, gently sliding into you to remind you how he felt. "are you still going to let him fuck you?"

"i..." you pursed your lips together, trying to hold back a soft whimper. "what do you want me to do then?"

"me," he replied. "just me."

you frowned at him, causing him to laugh.

"okay, okay," he said, clearing his thoughts and looking into your eyes carefully. "i... i like you, a lot. and i don't want you to be with anybody else."

you blushed, a smile blossoming on your cheeks at the confession. you tightened your grip on his hand, a fit of giggle leaving your lips. "that's... that's sudden."

"yeah, i know," he shrieked, hiding his face in your neck. you could feel his lips quirking up, and it made you feel great.

"but, uh, how about i ditch him and go on a date with you instead?" you suggested.

"that would be great." he nodded lazily.

you sighed contently then, staring up at the ceiling. and chan laid his comfortably on your shoulder, his chest heaving with yours and his cock still stuffed inside your hole.

you two were probably going to stay like this for a while.

#stray kids dark hours #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz dark hours

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years ago

Note

sdra2 boys reactions to a first kiss from their s/o-

Here you go! These turned out a bit longer than expected haha (plus I almost forgot Hajime aaaaaa)

.........

Teruya

The former merchant was grieving over his friends again, but as much as he tried hiding it--he knew he couldn’t keep it bottled up around you. So he just let himself curl into your arms, clutching the goggles of a certain pilot.

He felt childish for crying like this, though you didn’t judge him, nor the tears that soaked your shirt. Instead you held him close, running a hand through his hair.

Teruya found that talking about the good memories--as good as any memories of being trapped in the academy could be--with the pilot helped ease his troubled mind. Plus you were curious about his friendship with him.

“He seemed like a comedic guy,” you smiled softly. “A guy with a good heart.”

“Yeah, th-that was Haru alright..” He sniffled, sighing as he felt himself calming down. “Okay..I think I’m alright now. Th-Thank you for listening.”

"Of course, but hmm..I know what’ll cheer you up, Ruya.”

As he raised his head to look at you, what he didn’t expect was to feel you lips against his. But for a first kiss...it was so soft and sweet, just like you’ve always been to him.

You could see a blush on his face as you broke the kiss. He tried to speak, but could only babble random nonsense, to which you just chuckled. “You feel a little better?”

“Y-Yeah..I’m f-feelin’ tons better...”

.........

Yuki

“Are you..serious?” Yuki gawked, expecting you to laugh at his confession. “Y-You really like me that way, too?”

“Of course! And I’ll say it again if I need to.” Grinning, you took his hands and swung them side-to-side a bit. “I truly do like you, Yuki Maeda. So what if you’re “average”? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Despite how much he wanted to believe your words, he was convinced that he wasn’t anyone special. His talent didn’t make him famous or rich or smart--who would wanna be with someone who was lacking in all three departments?

You could see his eyes starting to cloud over with doubt, but you weren’t gonna have any of that. Fortunately you had an idea that was either smart...or stupid.

You didn’t care and just decided to kiss him right on the lips. He squeaked in surprise, immediately stiffening up, though it was just a peck and you quickly backed off.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but it got your message across..or so you hoped. “Now do you believe me?”

“I-I....I do..” Yuki stammered, his gaze travelling to your entwined hands. Though he shyly glanced back up at you. “C-Could you..uh..maybe do that again?”

........

Nikei

As you typed away on the computer, you could feel a lingering presence over your shoulder. But you didn’t mind it, knowing there was only one person who was allowed to barge into your office.

“Hey Nik-Nak.”

“Y-You’re seriously giving me a nickname now?” The journalist stammered, though he just sighed and looked at your computer screen. “Anyways..how’s the editing going?”

“So far so good. your dear Ultimate Editor is hard at work.” You kept tapping the keys. “But I noticed a lot more run-on sentences in this one. Looks like somebody’s had a little too much coffee today.”

“Oh please,” he huffed. “We both have very different definitions of “too much coffee”. And I think I know who stole the rest..”

“Sue me.” You joked, reaching up to pat his cheek, before you brought his head down slightly to kiss his other one. “Make some more if your heart desires.”

“..........”

“...Nikei?”

“...s-sure...imma go..uh....yeah. Bye.”

By the time you turned away from the computer, Nikei was already rushing out the door, clutching his hat to hide his face from view. But even in the dark you could tell he was blushing like mad.

How adorable.

........

Shinji

“COME ON, YUKI!! YOU GOTTA HAVE MORE FIYAAAAH THAN THAT!!!”

“He seems tired, Shinji. Cut him some slack.” You chuckled as you watched the two men train together. Poor Yuki was practically wheezing after the run, while Shinji just huffed and kept jogging around the park.

But eventually he made his way over to you and stopped short. “You should join us! Get your blood pumping!!”

“Do I have to?”

“Why not?” He grinned.

You really didn’t wanna run in hot weather like this, and the two seemed like they needed a break.

So you came up with an idea--a sure-fire way to get him to listen to you. “Hey, Shin? I..gotta tell you something important.” You motioned for him to lean in closer, and he did so in worry, wondering what you had to say.

Though all he got was peck on the lips. It was the first kiss you’ve given him since you two starting going out, so it was quick but sweet. When you moved back you could see him staring at you, face growing beet-red.

“Now will you take a break...please?” You held his hands.

For a while he seemed speechless--as though his brain short-circuited--before he finally found his voice. “W-W-Well jeez..why d-didn’t ya say so before?”

......

Yuri

“Oh, [y/n]~! I’ve figured out the perfect way to commemorate our first kiss!”

“You have? And what would that be?” You turned around to face the spaceman, noticing he had a box of Pocky. “O-Oh...the Pocky game?”

“What else could it be?” He laughed as he held out a stick between you two. “Since we’re both already familiar with it, why not get started right away~”

Seeing that there was no way out of this, you sighed and decided to agree to the game. You bit down one end of the stick while Yuri bit the other.

Then you started munching away. Though at the last second, right before your noses could touch, you suddenly moved back, letting him have victory.

“Awh..there’s no need to be shy, my dearest.” He pouted, clearly disappointed. “I understand if you’re not ready yet but-”

However he was cut short when you pulled him by the tie, bringing his lips to yours. His eyes widened to the size of UFOS, though before he could properly react you broke the kiss, smiling as you munched the remaining Pocky you stole from him.

“I win~”

.......

Shobai

“You’re kidding right?”

“It’s like I said--nothing in life comes for free, sweetheart. If ya don’t already know that then..why are we even going out?"

“...we’ve been dating for-”

“You want a kiss? Better pay up.” As ridiculous as it seemed, Shobai looked dead serious about this “deal” you wanted to make with him.

You didn’t think you’d have to actually pay to get a first kiss. But then again..this man made a living making bizarre deals, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“Alright, if that’s what it takes.” You begrudgingly took out your wallet and opened it. “What do you want for-?”

However, you fell silent when you heard a snicker, and you looked to see his smug grin. But before you could question him, he suddenly leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, stunning you, though you tried to seize the moment and kiss him back.

He tasted like smoke, of course. It wasn’t the most pleasant, though your heart still fluttered even after you two broke the kiss. Only then did he notice your dumbfounded expression, and chuckled.

“You know, you can be real gullible sometimes...but that makes you kinda cute.”

.......

Mikado

“Hey um..Mik? Can I ask you something?”

“Oh anything, my dear moon~ Well...erm...there are some things I cannot disclose if you’re curious about Void-”

“A-Ah, nothing like that. I’m just wondering if...I were to kiss you....which side would you prefer?” You gestured to both sides of your face, looking at the wizard with an inquiring expression.

He hummed in thought. “You know..I’ve never had my first kiss before, so I’m not so sure myself. How about I let you surprise me?” The red eye on his mask winked, before he closed his real eye and sat still.

With a sigh, you decided to entertain him, approaching him. But when he opened his eye, you stopped short and huffed. “Hey, what happened to me “surprising” you?”

“Sorry, I was getting..impatient. Carry on.” Once more he closed it, soon feeling you cup the cheek of his maskless side. And he tensed up upon feeling you kiss the corner of his mouth.

Redness dusted his entire face as he opened his eyes, seeing your smile.

“O-Oh...so that’s how it feels..”

.......

Hajime

“Hajime, it’ll only be for a second. I’ll be right back with medicine-”

“N-No..at least let me go with you..please..”

“You collapsed during training and you’ve been running a high fever ever since. You’re in no condition to walk right now.”

Despite your best efforts, Hajime continued to resist staying in bed. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to get him to stay put, but you knew why he was so upset.

He wasn’t scared of getting sick--he was scared of being abandoned while he was sick. It was a fear instilled into him thanks to his parents and doctors who just..gave up and left him to die, all alone.

That fear showed itself in full-force as he gripped your hand. “D-Don’t abandon me..” He sobbed weakly. “I can’t go through that again..I-I just can’t...”

Your heart ached when you heard those pleas. But as you wondered how you could calm him down...the first brilliant idea to pop in your mind was:

Kiss him.

And so you did, right on the lips, which you knew you’ll regret later. Though Hajime fell silent and looked at you with surprise. “...did you...?”

“Th-That’s..not how I meant our first kiss to go. But I promise you, Hajime..I’m not gonna abandon you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Not now, not ever, okay? I will always come back for you.”

His cheeks were more flushed, but he nodded meekly and relaxed back on the bed as you quickly left to retrieve the medicine.

And you kept your promise.

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

Text

Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 7

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 4.2K

Genre: Angst.

Idol Cameos: Ateez Wooyoung, BTS Namjoon, MAMAMOO Hwasa (Hye-Jin)

Warnings: verbal abuse, physical abuse, confrontation, toxicity, asshole Yeonjun.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;)

You stiffened, not able to react to what was happening out of pure panic but the moment was soon interrupted as Wooyoung got yanked away from you aggressively.

“Since when don’t we ask for consent!?” Soobin practically yells as he holds on to Wooyoung's upper arm.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, looking back at Soobin with an unfazed expression as his eyes land on the hold Soobin had on him. He yanked his arm out of Soobin's grasp. Fixing his clothes as he clears his throat.

“She literally just said she liked me,” Wooyoung states lightly.

“That doesn’t mean you should launch yourself at her, she’s clearly uncomfortable with it,” Soobin says through his teeth, his eyes angrily peering into Wooyoung’s playful ones.

You’re unable to tear your eyes off of them and you really didn’t want to look at Yeonjun right now, knowing his temper; he’d be fuming. But he’s helpless, because to your friends’ knowledge he had no reason to be bothered.

Wooyoung sighs “Loosen up man,” he chuckles in amusement, averting his gaze back to you.” I’m sorry sweetheart. I thought you were cool with it.”

“Eh, I-it’s okay,” you stammer not making any eye contact.

Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder as an apology and assurance that he didn’t care before walking off to the balcony to smoke. You see that one of their friends followed him to keep him company as they disappeared.

“Don’t be embarrassed y/n, it’s just a dumb kiss. No biggie,” Taehyun says giving you a weak smile.

“Jiae, could you get up.”

Your ears perk up at Yeonjun’s voice and you see the annoying blonde get up from his lap in confusion.

If looks could kill you’d be buried 6 feet under because Yeonjun was NOT happy.

All eyes were on him as he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him loudly, making everyone jolt at his aggression.

“What’s wrong with him?” Beomgyu says with wide eyes.

And suddenly all eyes were on you.

You decide to ignore them and run after Yeonjun, feeling like it’s the only right thing you could do in the situation. You didn’t care about your friends’ opinions or the fact that they would probably put two and two together by now. But you needed to know if you could salvage the damage that you had just done to your potential relationship.

You run after him, but you’re too late to catch up with him as the elevator doors close on you.

You decide to take the emergency exit and run down the flights of stairs as fast as you could in an attempt to still catch him before he was completely out of sight.

As you rush through the doors and see his figure leave the entrance of the apartment building you yell after him.

“YEONJUN, WAIT!”

You’re completely stressed and out of breath. You needed him to turn around to look you in the eyes but he ignored you completely. Fists balled, taking big strides towards his car.

“Yeonjun.” Your voice cracked, it sounded like a desperate plea. All you wanted was for him to look at you and talk to you.

The crack in your voice made him stop in his tracks and he turns around on his heels in response, seeing your saddened and distressed facial expression.

“I-I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know why I said what I said, it seemed like the best option, and I-” you stop mid-sentence as you lock eyes with him.

Yeonjun’s gaze on you went dark, he took a step closer to you, and somehow you felt really small. His eyes were scary and his height was intimidating as he looked down on you.

You wanted to take a step back but you didn’t budge. Too dazed and out of it to react logically.

“It seemed like the best option?” Yeonjun says lowly, his eyes looking for more answers in yours. “You could have just lied a different lie y/n. Aren't we supposed to be used to it by now?”

“I’m sorry,” you say in almost a whisper, looking down at your feet. “I couldn’t have anticipated that kiss.”

He scoffs, the look in his eyes shifting to one you hadn’t seen before. They almost looked venomous, scary even. Any affection for you was nowhere to be found.

“All this time you worry about me. My reputation. My past. And you’re the one literally kissing another guy in front of me. And my best friend at that.”

“Yeonjun, don’t pull that card on me. It wasn’t intentional, I would never hurt you on purpose. Ever.” You assure him, holding onto his arm. He needs to understand. You NEED him to understand that you would never initiate any of that shit with Wooyoung.

You knew he was just reflecting his insecurity on you in a form of anger. He didn’t know what to do with the jealousy in his gut because he never had to deal with this type of emotion. He cared about you. No, he loved you. And it was clear as day to any outsider looking in. But did he realize that this is what love is supposed to feel like? Passionate and painful. But also, frustrating and confusing.

“First Johnny and now Wooyoung? Who’s next. Soobin?” you’re taken aback and disgusted at his jab. Your eyes turning big and confused at the low blow, shaking as you let his words register.

He let out a deep sigh, taking your hand off of his arm. “Fuck around all you want,” he says in all seriousness.

“I mean it. Go after Wooyoung. You were so eager to jump in bed with me last night, I’m sure he’d like to finish what I started.” He was mocking you. Making sure he pressed every wrong button just like his father does to him. He made sure to push you away from him as far as possible with his words, afraid that if he forgave you, you’d only hurt him even more in the end, or the other way around.

He couldn’t take losing you, so what better way to prevent that by never having you in the first place.

His words made the deepest cut in your heart and you couldn’t fully wrap your mind around why he would say something this hurtful and childish. If this is how Yeonjun dealt with his feelings, then you didn’t want anything to do with him.

Your pupils start to tremble, your vision getting blurry as you feel the brims of your eyes fill up with water. You hate how confrontation makes you tear up. But there was nothing you could do with your anger then to let it flow in the form of pure sadness.

You had hoped he’d take it back, that his gaze would soften upon seeing your distressed state but he held his ground. All of the good times you had together in the past weeks flashed before your eyes but when you see the unchanged cold and stoic expression on Yeonjun’s face, you snap.

Before you knew it, your palm connected to his cheek with a loud smack, the air becoming thick as you see the shock in his eyes at your action.

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” you yell at him at the top of your lungs, ready to give him a piece of your mind. You were never going to let him live this down.

“I KNEW I SHOULD NEVER HAVE TRUSTED YOU!” you screamed at him once again, but Yeonjun seemed unfazed by your words. If anything, he was used to verbal abuse. His mind went in protection mode, shutting off completely like it always does when his dad started yelling at him.

You wanted to launch forward but a pair of strong arms kept you from doing so. Your head snaps back bewildered and aggressively. You see Soobin with wide eyes holding on to your waist as tightly as he could. He didn’t understand one thing about what was going on, but he has never seen you this angry in his life.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Yeonjun says maintaining eye contact with you, not minding the crowd that had formed outside, nor the look of pure hatred in your eyes towards him.

He gave Soobin a last look before he turned around, making his way to his car calmly.

“Let go of me,” you hiss taking Soobin's arms and pushing them off of you. You watch Yeonjun drive off and scoff in disbelief.

You couldn't believe him. You couldn't believe any of this. Why would he react this way? Why would he say all of these poisonous things and leave you alone like that? You decided you had enough and didn’t feel like explaining any of this to your friends, because honestly; where would you even begin? And what would you even say? You huff, walking away from them with no particular destination in mind. Anger completely filling your senses.

“Do NOT come after me,” you warn before anyone could say anything to you as you disappear.

Yeonjun stood outside of the massive villa, biting his cheek nervously as he waited for the front door to open after he rang the doorbell to his uncle’s house multiple times.

He knew he was wrong for bothering him at this hour. But he didn’t know where else to go.

The door opened with a dramatic swing. Namjoon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, shocked to see his nephew in front of him at this hour.

“Yeonjun?”

“What are you doing here. A heads up would have been nice.”

Yeonjun ignored his statement and walked inside. He didn’t even know why he was here but his mind automatically drove his car to this destination. The only family member he had a true bond with was Namjoon, his mother's younger brother. They didn’t differ that much in age, but he was almost like a father figure to him, more than his own dad at that. And well, he lived close and he didn’t know where else to go tonight. He sure as hell wasn’t going back home to the guys.

“I had nowhere to go," he says biting the inside of his cheek.

Yeonjun sat down on the large staircase, burying his face in his hands.

Namjoon frowned, closing the door while turning the hall lights on. He made his way over to Yeonjun and sat down beside him

Yeonjun couldn’t believe himself.

He couldn’t believe what he said and what just happened and he needed advice without asking for it.

Namjoon’s wife, Hye-Jin, emerged from their bedroom, and when she saw Yeonjun on the staircase with her husband; she knew enough.

“I’ll go make tea,” she said softly, tying the ties to her bathrobe around her as she makes her way down the stairs.

Namjoon gave her a sweet smile, brushing their hands against each other affectionately as she passed.

Her words completely went over Yeonjun’s head as his mind started to replay the events from earlier.

“Do I deserve to be happy with someone who is too good for me. Someone who makes life seem too good to be true? A girl who looks at me with so much adoration even though I’m not worthy of her love.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened at Yeonjun’s sudden outburst, he put his hand on Yeonjun’s back, patting him in comfort.

“Of course you do.”

“Then why can’t I let myself feel.”

“Because that’s how you were raised.” Namjoon sighs. “You were ruined by that dickhead of a father of yours.” He cleared his throat. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Yeonjun says as he sighs loudly, his shoulders falling in defeat.

“I met a girl.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

A small smile crept onto Yeonjun's lips.

“She’s amazing,” Yeonjun says lost it thought, thinking of your smile, and the sound of your laughter. His mind flashing back to your peacefully sleeping form on his bed last night while he adored you as he moved a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Tell me about her…” Namjoon tries carefully.

Yeonjun wasn’t one to open up, and even though this situation was completely random. He was glad his nephew wanted to confide in him. Namjoon was way too busy to his liking in his day to day life. And had to admit that the relationship with Yeonjun felt a little estranged over the years.

Especially since Yeonjun left for college, he hadn’t seen much of him at family gatherings; making it hard to stay in contact with him.

The corner of Yeonjun’s mouth curl up in a faint smile as he thinks of you again, and before he knew it, the thought of you has him rambling.

“She’s beautiful. Inside and out. She’s smart, top of her class. She’s funny, sassy. Keeps me on my toes around her. She’s caring and outgoing but then her eyes hold this innocence…” he explains lost in thought.

Namjoon sighs. “Sounds an awful lot like you’re in love Jun.”

Yeonjuns eyes widen at the 4 letter word and he looks at Namjoon in shock. “What?”

“You love her.”

“H-well. I” he stutters incoherently. Not sure what to make think about his uncle’s point of view.

“Let me ask you this, who do you think of first thing in the morning and last thing before you close your eyes at night?”

Yeonjun didn’t even have to give it a good thought. “Her.”

“That’s love, that’s Hye-Jin to me, and that’s….”

“Y/n”

“That’s y/n to you," Namjoon says smiling softly.

Mia ran up to Soobin, her eyes big and shocked. “We should go after her,” she says in a panic.

“I don’t know what that was but If it is what I think it is then we can’t let her be alone right now.”

Soobin stood frozen on his feet. His mind trying to make connections to every single event in the past couple of weeks.

Your vagueness, the lies, the mystery behind Yeonjun never being home. It all clicked.

You were with him.

And given the shit show that he had just witnessed, he realized that you two were serious about each other.

Mia tugs at Soobin's hand. “Baby, snap out of it,” she says softly.

Her voice made Soobin come back to his senses and he rubbed his forehead as all of the revelations in his mind form the perfect foundation for a pounding headache.

“Mia please tell me you didn’t know that they were sneaking around behind our backs.” He looks at her pleadingly, begging for the confirmation he needed.

“I swear to you. I didn’t know, she didn’t tell me…” she comforts him, holding his hand.

Soobin nodded in relief, knowing that Mia would be on his side no matter what was reassuring.

Taehyun walked up to Soobin with your handbag and jacket in his hands. “She forgot these…” he says carefully approaching.

Soobin didn’t know what to do but everyone was looking at him for guidance. They were expecting him to take the next step but he really didn’t know what that next step should be.

“Let’s go inside and talk about this,” he says still too dazed and confused to function.

“I’ll make sure our guests go home.” Taehyun says determined as he runs back inside.

The silence was painful. The boys sat at the dinner table with the remnants of their ruined game night still sprawled out on the table in forms of alcoholic beverages and Uno cards.

Beomgyu sighed loudly, slouching in his seat.

“Why can’t we ever have a normal night,” he breathes playing with the cords of his sweater.

Mia looked at Soobin worriedly, she saw how stressed he was, how his eyes were fixated on nothingness while his mind ran wild, trying to figure out where to pick up the pieces.

“So, let’s just…summarize this,” Taehyun says sitting up straight.

“Yeonjun hyung is mad…because y/n was kissed by Wooyoung hyung, and when we got downstairs to see what the yelling was about, y/n basically slapped him in the face with the force of god.”

“That’s about right, yeah,” Hueningkai says hugging one of his massive plushies, using it as a pillow to support his head on at the dinner table.

“She would never hit him if she didn’t have a reason to,” Mia says defending you in some way.

“Since when is violence ever justified. That is my brother, and from the looks of it SHE is the one that fucked up.” Beomgyu says defending Yeonjun this time.

“Stop,” Soobin says before an argument could erupt.

“This isn’t a blame game.”

“I think they’ve been seeing each other romantically behind our backs since the festival,” Soobin says sharing his assumption and it made the eyes of everyone widen in unison.

“What?” Taehyun says in shock.

“Why would they keep that a secret.” Hueningkai asks in bewilderment.

“Because they were probably figuring out their feelings first,” Mia retorts, trying to make sense of it all. She knew that it was basically 3 against 1 in Yeonjun’s defense, with Soobin being Switzerland and not taking sides. She’d never betray you, and she was determined to make the boys realize that it wasn’t just you at fault, even though she knew nothing of the situation in detail.

“Well I felt something between them and it wasn’t cute.” Beomgyu remarks rolling his eyes.

Mia sighed intertwining her fingers with Soobin’s as she played with his fingers absentmindedly.

She needed to talk to you asap, but she wasn’t sure if you were up for that. She needed to know if you were okay and her mind started to list the few places that you could have gone to.

“I feel bad for daring Wooyoung to kiss her.” Hueningkai mopes burying his face in his plushie, but Taehyun was quick to ease his mind. “None of this is any of our faults. If they were honest with us, we would have known not to go that far.”

“I don’t think Wooyoung knew either.” Beomgyu says leaning his elbows on the table as he intertwined his fingers as if he was in a business meeting.

“Of course not, he’d never do that to Yeonjun.” Taehyun replies, leaning back into his chair.

“I heard what Yeonjun said to her.” Soobin starts, all eyes diverting to him.

"He didn't even want to hear her side of the story. He just burned her to the ground with his words instead. He basically slut-shamed her on the spot.”

“Woahhh…” Taehyun says as his eyes dart to Soobin’s. “That’s….just wow,” he says at a loss for words.

Mia scoffed letting go of Soobin’s hand as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We all know who the real slut is.”

“Mia,” Soobin warns her but she doesn’t care.

“No. Did you guys see the panic in y/n’s eyes when Wooyoung got close to her. She stiffened. I don’t know why she named Wooyoung but she was probably just panicked and not thinking straight. Yeonjun is an asshole with a way too big of an attitude problem who thinks the world revolves around him and him alone.”

The boys looked at Mia in shock of her outburst and Soobin did the same. He didn’t like what she said, especially since he told her about the talk he and Yeonjun had the other night.

“Mia..” Soobin starts, his tone was soft but also laced with disappointment and Mia knew that she needed to escape before she’d start a fight with him.

“I’m going to go after my best friend, and figure out what happened. Because we can all sit here and talk shit or assume shit. But it won’t get us the answers we need to help bring our group back together.”

Mia got up, grabbing your and her own things before leaving the guys at the dinner table. She didn’t give Soobin her usual kiss goodbye and walked out of the apartment, hoping she could find you as soon as possible.

“Thanks for the tea, it was really nice” Yeonjun says relaxing in his seat.

Hye-Jin smiled at him sweetly, retrieving the empty cup from him. “You seemed very upset,” she said. “So, I figured you needed some chamomile.”

Yeonjun chuckled indifferently biting his lip.

“Since you’re…well, a woman. Can I ask you something?”

Hye-Jin grinned at Yeonjun, finding his choice of words questionable yet adorable.

“Sure.”

“When did you know you were in love with my uncle?”

Hye-Jin was amused by the question. She bit her lip giving it a good thought and when she laid her eyes on her husband, she sighed. “When his pain became my pain.”

Yeonjun cocked his eyebrow at her answer, not expecting that at all. Suddenly his mind flashed back to your tearful face when he told you about his parents, and your fallen face from before when he basically ripped your heart out of your chest.

Guilt filled his senses. He wanted to make things right but he also knew that you would never talk to him again, or at least not anytime soon.

Maybe it was for the best. Again, you deserved someone better than him. Someone who could love you without the extra baggage. Yes, he was pissed. Jealousy consumed him almost entirely with the whole Wooyoung ordeal. He turned into his dad and that’s what disgusted Yeonjun the most.

He treated you like his dad treated him and at the moment, he swore to himself that that would never happen again. Ever.

Pushing people away was what Yeonjun was good at, but what he didn’t realize is that you could be the medicine to his broken soul. He failed to realize that this love thing was a two-way street. He felt best when he was with you, but he didn’t stop to consider that he was a source for your happiness as well.

Namjoon noticed Yeonjun’s fallen facial expression as Yeonjun sank deep in thought and he frowned, clearing his throat.

“How about you stay here for the night.”

Yeonjun’s eyes find Namjoon’s and all he could do was nod at the offer. "Thank you..."

Hye-Jin got up from the dining table with a loud sigh. “I’ll go prepare the guest room.”

You were seated at a picnic table at the park near your school, looking out over the lake as you try to organize your thoughts.

Yeonjun’s hurtful words kept ringing in your mind like a mantra and you almost believed that he meant every word he said.

It wasn’t even what he said to you, it was why he said it. He said it to push your buttons. To make you angry at him so he could run from you.

Yeonjun was dead wrong for the things he said to you.

And you were dead wrong for putting your hands on him like that.

The moment keeps replaying in your mind a thousand times over and you wince at the vivid memory.

You sit there lost in your thoughts for what seems like forever. Since you didn’t have your phone with you, you weren’t able to keep track of time.

You wanted to hate Yeonjun, you really did. But you didn’t.

The way he snapped at you was scary, toxic and unjustifiable, but you couldn’t help but think that he pushed you away on purpose.

After all, you were oblivious to the true trauma of his childhood. The childhood filled with abandonment, mental and physical abuse was still a mystery to you.

For all you know, all he had to endure was a lack of love with occasional arguments but it was so much more than that. He was extremely damaged, but the way he kept himself together in his day to day life would never give that away.

“Y/n?”

Your head snaps into the direction of the voice and you relax in an instance when you see her.

“Mia? How did you know where I was?” You were shocked but relieved at the same time. If anyone came after you, you were glad it was her.

She sat down next to you and enveloped you in a hug. You close your eyes, squeezing her tightly and she let you.

She sighs, untangling herself while grabbing your shoulders to make you look at her.

“Tell me everything,” she says. “From the start.”

Yeonjun barely slept that night. He kept staring at the ceiling, twisting and turning under the sheets. His mind was consumed with you. He wanted to know if you were okay. If you got home safe.

He wanted you to be okay but he also knew that the reality was most likely far from it.

You didn’t deserve the heartbreak, but you’d get over him soon enough; he thought to himself.

Especially with all these men on campus doting after you, you’d soon forget all about Yeonjun and move on with your life.

It’s not like he hoped you would. But he figured it’d be for the better and suddenly he was glad you weren’t too deep in to your relationship.

He was glad you didn’t have sex, because he could never forgive himself if it seemed like he just used you for your body.

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re in love Jun.”

Namjoon’s voice rings in his head loudly. Over and over again.

Does he love you?

Is that why this hurts so much?

The movies he watched oh so religiously always made love seem to be nothing less than sunshine and rainbows. It was never about letting the person you love the most go for their own good because that’s just how much they mean to you.

Letting you go was the most selfless thing he had done, but he wished it happened in a less messy way. if he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was going to let you go sooner or later for your own good, and the whole situation last night was the perfect excuse for him to snap at you. He wanted to live the fairy tale with you. To sneak around with you a little longer and have you moaning his name under him as he pleasured you again and again. He wanted to have you, love you, kiss you and hold you. But it wasn't about what he wanted, it was about what you deserved and needed.

You were strong, you had clear goals and a true purpose in life and he was sure you wouldn’t let this short-lived romance come between that.

He had to believe it himself to accept the reality of things.

He lost you, and it was for the best.

Yeonjun rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He got up and dressed himself, ready to leave his uncle’s house after thanking them for their hospitality.

He knew he had to face the music with Soobin and the other guys sooner or later, and he’d rather just have it over and dealt with.

As he made his way down the staircase, he quickly retrieved his keys from the side table in the hallway, and made his way to the voices that came from the kitchen at this early hour.

While he got closer to the voices his ears perked up at one voice in particular.

He froze as they made eye contact; not knowing why or what she was doing here.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him. He changed a lot in the year she hadn’t seen him.

He was broader, manlier. The baby fat in his cheeks was completely gone by now. He looked strong and handsome, she expected nothing less from him though; given his genetics.

“Mom?” Yeonjun says in disbelief, looking at her picture-perfect attire.

She always looked put together. No matter the circumstance.

“Hello, Yeonjun.” she says giving him a half-hearted smile.

“How have you been, son?”

Chapter 8

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twinklysmiles · 4 years ago

Text

Not a Word of This to Anyone! (Or: A Ticklish Spa Day) Part 1: Pedicure

A Star Trek Tickle Fic

Fandom: Star Trek TOS / AOS Characters: Leonard Bones McCoy, James T. Kirk (McKirk at a stretch), Nyota Uhura, Christine Chapel Warnings: Tickling Word Count: 2,488

Summary: Kirk and McCoy get roped into joining Chapel and Uhura on a spa day, which turns out to be a rather ticklish experience. They seriously regret their decision as they helplessly suffer through a pedicure and a full body massage.

Inspired by this gif: (although I can actually picture AOS Kirk and McCoy even better in this one)

“So, what are you up to today, girls?” Kirk asked Uhura and Chapel over breakfast in the luxurious hotel most of his crew had booked into for shore leave on this amazing recreation planet’s gorgeous “Earth Island”, a resort specifically designed to cater to human tastes and needs. They had certainly earned some real R&R after what they’d been through recently.

“Oh, we’re treating ourselves to a long overdue spa day, aren’t we?” Uhura beamed, glancing at Chapel and sighing contentedly. “Want to join us?”

“Where’s Spock?” McCoy cut in quickly, hoping to distract Kirk before he started to seriously consider Uhura’s suggestion. “Is he skipping breakfast today? I haven’t seen him yet.”

Knowing Jim, the doctor was afraid that the captain might actually take Uhura up on her offer, and he really didn’t want to have a spa day. The thought of having his body touched and prodded for a whole day made him uneasy. He was … sensitive.

“Spock, Scotty and Pavel already left for a conference on warp engineering or whatever,” Uhura replied, rolling her eyes at the idea of wasting precious shore leave time on something like that.

To McCoy’s regret, however, Chapel took up the spa day subject again.

“So, what’s your answer, Captain? Doctor? Are you coming with us? Treat yourselves to some pampering, too?”

“I don’t think that’s for us,” McCoy muttered, casting Kirk a glance that clearly said, ‘Don’t even think about it!’ Which, of course, only served to pique the captain’s interest even more.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Bones!” he exclaimed, giving McCoy his broadest grin. “I think that’s a splendid idea! We should definitely try it!”

“Oh, come on, Doctor,” Chapel chimed in. “You, of all people, seriously need to relax!”

“And I will,” McCoy insisted, “just not at a spa!”

“You’re not turning into a macho man, are you, Leonard?” Uhura teased, and the doctor knew that she had him. He just couldn't let her get away with an accusation like this.

“All right,” he grudgingly agreed, “maybe for a couple of hours. What are you starting with?”

“A pedicure,” Chapel smiled. “They’re so relaxing!”

“A pedicure?” McCoy gulped, sounding almost as horror-stricken as he felt. “How on earth can that be relaxing? I couldn't handle a pedicure, I’m far too…”

He broke off midsentence, catching himself just in time before giving away too much.

‘Ticklish!’ Chapel thought gleefully, silently completing the sentence.

That was why she’d suggested the pedicure in the first place. As a nurse, she knew a lot of intimate details about the crew members of the Enterprise, like people’s various tickle spots, for example, most of which were inevitably brought to light during physical exams. If a crew member was ticklish, Chapel probably knew it. And where, too. And she absolutely loved to exploit that knowledge a little, although no one would suspect.

McCoy, for example, was more than a little ticklish on the soles of his feet, as she’d found out when he’d sprained his ankle a while ago. Especially on his heels and the balls of his feet, which practically screamed for a little pedicure fun.

Chapel also knew that Kirk was seriously ticklish. He was incredibly sensitive on his belly. To the extent that she had to pin him down, his fingers desperately digging into her arms, whenever Dr. McCoy had to check his abdomen. She had no idea about the sensitivity of his feet, though. But she’d certainly like to find out.

“Well, let’s go!” Kirk threw his napkin on the table and got up. “Time’s a wastin’! There’s only so much shore leave left!”

McCoy shook his head at his friend’s enthusiasm, debating whether it was still possible for him to chicken out. But when he looked at the women’s challenging faces, he knew there was no way they’d ever let him live it down if he did. How he was supposed to live through a pedicure, however, he wasn’t so sure, either.

‘Dammit, I’ll somehow survive it,’ he thought, trying to convince himself. After all, a lot of people got pedicures, and a lot of people were ticklish. Especially on their feet. Although maybe not as acutely as he was. He suppressed a shudder.

Besides, just like physicians, pedicurists were bound to be trained in how not to tickle, weren’t they? As a doctor, and being excruciatingly ticklish himself, he was always careful to make his touch as little ticklish as possible, always very attentive to any tell-tale reactions, and trying not to tickle his patients more than necessary.

‘Not so, Christine’, he thought wryly. Over the years, working with her, he’d almost got the impression that she actually enjoyed tickling patients, and rather liked to exploit tickle spots when she found them. He’d even wanted to talk to her about it several times, but found the issue too embarrassing. Too close to home. So, he’d contented himself with trying to keep her away from the more ticklish patients, at least the ones he knew of. Like Jim or Chekov.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Uhura and Chapel enjoyed themselves immensely, watching their friends having their pedicures. Like a lot of men, Jim and Leonard were clearly not used to having their feet touched, both of them quite obviously finding the procedure terribly ticklish, although dealing with it very differently.

While Kirk was just giggling away unashamedly, enjoying a good laugh and warning his pedicurist that he couldn't be held responsible for his reflexes and possible resulting injuries, if it tickled too much, as well as telling her that he didn’t think he could last all the way to the end, McCoy desperately tried to hide his growing distress, clearly deeply embarrassed about his ticklishness.

But Chapel guessed that his feet were way more ticklish than Kirk’s, and was pretty sure that he’d soon lose the fight. His lips pressed tightly together, his expression almost comically rigid, tears starting to spill from his eyes, he was a picture of ticklish agony.

No matter how hard he tried, the doctor couldn't hide what a harrowing ordeal this was for him. His spasming body treacherously betraying how the pedicurist’s ticklish touches were killing him. And she hadn’t even started on the serious scraping and scratching part, or used her super-weapon, the rotating pumice stone, yet.

Gripping the armrests of his chair so hard, his knuckles went completely white, McCoy did his best to keep a straight face and not show how unbearably it tickled. But the pedicurist, of course, immediately noticed his predicament and, exchanging a mischievous glance with her colleague working on Kirk’s feet, made her touches extra ticklish until the doctor finally burst out laughing and just couldn't stop again.

By the time the two pedicurists were done with their respective ‘victims’ first foot, the two Starfleet officers were a ticklish mess. Even Kirk’s laughter seemed forced now, and poor McCoy had nearly fallen off his chair several times, what with all his writhing and bucking.

And while the captain had issued a continuous, if incoherent stream of half-hearted pleas for mercy, which he’d seemed to get more serious about when his pedicurist had started to work his soles over with her spinning pumice stone, the doctor had been helpless to get a single word out from the moment he’d first erupted with laughter.

McCoy had been bouncing up and down in his seat like mad, shaking his head from side to side, holding on to the armrests for dear life, and visibly just hanging on by a thread, trying to somehow get through this excruciatingly ticklish ordeal.

Chapel couldn't tear her eyes away, mesmerised by how incredibly ticklish the doctor’s feet really were, and even Uhura was clearly enjoying the show.

Kirk regained his breath shortly after his pedicurist had finished his first foot, but it took McCoy almost a minute to calm down and stop giggling.

oOoOoOoOoOo

“Enough,” the doctor finally gasped, “one foot is enough for life.”

“Oh, don’t be an infant!” Chapel and Uhura said almost at the same time, then looked at each other and burst out laughing while McCoy gave them his best scowl.

“I’ve had more ticklish patients, believe me,” his pedicurist said, grinning widely, and McCoy blushed furiously, hating to have his embarrassing ticklishness so bluntly addressed. Then she cheekily added, “At least I didn’t have to strap you down!”, the mere idea almost giving the doctor a heart attack. “But usually,” she continued with a reassuring smile that could or could not have been sincere, “once you’ve made it through your first foot, the second one isn’t so bad anymore. Your feet just need some time to get used to the sensation.”

McCoy was just about to politely decline, much rather enduring Uhura’s and Chapel’s eternal teasing than going through such atrocious tickling again, when Kirk challenged him, “Come on, Bones, you’re tougher than that! If I can take it, so can you. Besides, we haven’t laughed nearly enough lately. And you always say “laughter is the best medicine”, don’t you?”

“I never say that,” the doctor grumbled, but when he saw three pairs of eyes wickedly smirking at him, he put his second foot back up on the footrest with a sigh. So, his friends had discovered his greatest, most shameful weakness. He’d show them that he could take this like a man.

Only he couldn't. Not even for a second. He regretted his foolish decision the moment the pedicurist put her first tickle tool to use on his sensitive sole, causing him to instantly double over and dissolve into uncontrollable laughter once more.

The sensation was so unbearably ticklish, he couldn't even beg her to stop again, the air being forced out of his lungs as he helplessly fell into silent laughter. It most certainly didn’t tickle any less than it had on the other foot. In fact, it seemed to tickle even worse. Pure, unadulterated tickle hell.

Just the pedicurist’s grip on his toes, as she trimmed and filed his nails, was insanely ticklish, but the torture multiplied, when she started scraping his calloused heels, and again, when she set to work on the horrendously sensitive balls of his feet. He wriggled around in his chair, covering his face with his hands and laughing harder than he could ever remember.

McCoy vaguely noticed Kirk howling with laughter next to him, too, but his considerations whether or not Jim’s other foot also seemed to be more ticklish, were cruelly cut short when his pedicurist turned on this diabolical pumice device, clearly invented by the devil himself with the sole purpose to tickle him to death.

Suffering through the longest, and certainly most humiliating minutes of his life, he didn’t even care what a ridiculous and sorry sight he must be anymore. All he cared about was for this horrendously ticklish nightmare to finally be over.

One might almost think the pedicurist was prolonging his ordeal on purpose, but then again, she might just be doing her job, without any intention to torture him. After all, his feet had always been unspeakably ticklish. Definitely his second most ticklish spot.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Watching the men writhe and wriggle, doubled up with laughter over a simple pedicure, was greatly entertaining for Uhura and Chapel. And when Uhura asked her friend in a whisper, “Do you think they’re tickling them deliberately?” the nurse just nodded with a huge grin on her face.

They certainly were. Not only were they still going strong, while the women’s feet were long finished, but even though Chapel knew that McCoy’s feet were horribly ticklish, and had anticipated the spinning pumice stones to seriously torment him, this was way more intense than your average pedicure.

She almost pitied Kirk and the doctor. Almost. It was just too much fun to see the strong and proud men being tickled out of their minds. For a tickle fiend like Chapel, this was almost too good to be true. But Uhura didn’t seem to mind too much, either, Christine thought wryly. But then, of course, it was “only tickling”, right?

When the men’s ordeal was finally over, and they slowly recovered, wiping the tears off their faces, McCoy taking considerably longer to regain his breath and his composure than Kirk, Chapel couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that the fun was over again already. Therefore, the pedicurists’ unexpected next words totally made her day.

“You poor guys!” McCoy’s pedicurist sweetly smiled at both men, the sympathy on her face appearing almost genuine. “You really have it bad, don’t you? To make up for all the suffering you’ve just gone through, we’d like to offer you a full body massage at half-price, if you’re interested.”

Kirk and McCoy immediately declined, clearly just wanting to get the hell out of this torture chamber, hopping off their chairs as soon as their tormentors released their feet, and hastily putting on their socks and shoes. But when one of the pedicurists grinned and gave Chapel and Uhura a mischievous wink, the two women instantly got the message and started talking their friends into accepting the offer.

“This is one of the most famous spas in the whole galaxy!” Uhura gushed. “You’re so lucky!”

“She’s right, Doctor! Captain?” Chapel agreed. “They’re always fully booked. People pay good money to even get a spot, and you’re being offered one right away. And at a 50% discount, too! You’d be crazy not to take it!”

oOoOoOoOoOo

“Thanks, but no, thanks,” McCoy croaked, his voice still hoarse from shrieking with laughter, a panicked look creeping onto his face, as he recognised all the signs of Kirk actually contemplating the offer.

“Well, I could certainly use a good, relaxing massage now,” the captain smiled at his pretty pedicurist. “Come on, Bones! You’ve been pretty tense, too, lately!”

Of course, Jim would fall for a lovely face and a suggestive smile, the doctor thought angrily. And maybe he should. Just because McCoy was too damn ticklish, why shouldn’t his friend enjoy a good massage?

“I’ll pass,” he said, trying to sound amiably despite his feet still tingling and twitching irritatingly. “You just go ahead, and I’ll find something else to do today.”

“Oh, come on, Bones, give it a chance!” the captain all but whined, “Just one little massage, and then we’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”

McCoy heaved a sigh. Who could resist Jim’s puppy dog eyes? And when Chapel smirked at him and suggested, “You could always ask for your feet to be excluded!” it became a matter of pride. This was ridiculous. Surely, he could get a massage without being tickled half to death!

And practically already feeling the soothing effects of strong hands kneading the muscles in his tight neck and back, he grudgingly nodded and followed Kirk and the two pedicurists across the beautifully kept lawn of the resort to the massage parlour.

Part 2: Full Body Massage

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing of Star Trek

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avian-writes · 3 years ago

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The day we kept moving forward

The Days Pt. 3

Word count: 2166

content warning: depression

The carpet was my new home. I had no desire to be anywhere else; not the bathtub where I could just lay in the cheap acrylic, not the closet where I could curl up in the familiar atmosphere I grew up with, not even my bed where I could spread my limbs out like a starfish.

The floor was my current sanctuary and I didn’t want to get up anytime soon. Not even when the doorbell continuously rang. I heard one of my roommates begrudgingly leave his room to answer. There was murmuring before my bedroom door crept open.

“Jake? You awake, buddy?”

I groaned into the dirty carpet and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. A bag was dropped to the ground and crossed legs appeared in my line of sight. I tilted my head just enough to look Darian in the eye. “What is it?”

“I’m supposed to be helping you with your math, remember?”

“Can’t that wait until tomorrow? Or the day after? Or before finals?”

“Definitely not. Come on, what’s up?”

I rolled over onto my back, nearly smacking my head right into a metal bed leg. “I’m tired. So. Freaking. Tired. No, scratch that, I’m exhausted.” My body decided to send my sentence to irony by making me yawn.

“Exhausted?” Darian pulled out his phone and checked the time. “What have you done today?”

“Woke up, got up, then immediately went back to sleep here.”

“Jake, you’ve gotta get up.”

“No I don’t. Math can wait.”

Darian groaned and leaned back against my desk, staring off out the window. I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling while contemplating my whole existence. It was getting easier and easier to just, do nothing these days.

He scooted across the floor so he could lay on his back, head to head. “How about we go on another expedition? Will you get up off the floor for that?”

“Are you seriously asking me that after the last two times?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We made it out alive didn’t we?”

“My ear drums didn’t. We nearly didn’t the first time either,” I countered. Our first little excursion still haunted me and probably still would until the day I died. Which would be soon if I had my way or the app did.

“Maybe this time will be different.” But I could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn’t believe what he was saying either. “To be honest, it feels like we should do one again. At least one more.”

I stayed quiet for a moment. I knew he was right; it was like we didn’t have any other choice. Something kept pulling us back to that damn app. Some might say it was a correlation of how kids these days were always on their phones and couldn’t go one day without them.

Good thing that, at the ripe old ages of 21 and 22, we weren’t kids.

I took the phone from him and slid open the app. The same three choices appeared and I took a deep breath before tapping anomaly.

Manifest what you want

“What do we want this time?”

“A reason to do this stupid game again.” I closed my eyes and waited. I wasn’t being sarcastic with my request. I really wanted a purpose for doing this and possibly subjecting us to more horror.

There was a tap on my shoulder and I opened my eyes to the GPS on his phone screen. I didn’t recognize the area but I could tell it was on the outskirts of Statesboro, surrounded by greenery. Great, another void location.

I quickly packed my normal bag: portable charger, water, pocket knife, flashlight, and granola bars. We got into Darian’s car and we followed the GPS in reserved silence. The only sound was the gentle hum of the engine and I prayed it wasn’t a sign of what was to come.

My eyes pleaded for sleep despite the tens of hours I had gotten the past couple days. It seemed all I did lately was work and sleep. No time was spent awake in the daylight; I was simply too tired to deal with anything not demanded of me. Food wasn’t even a priority anymore.

The coords took us as far as a gravel lot in the more rural area of the city. We parked and piled out, looking at each other in what I could feel was apprehensive fear. Why were we doing this again?

But before I could openly ask my concerns, Darian shrugged and started towards the woods. I got a sudden flashback to our first trip and swallowed hard. Quickly catching up to him, I kept close and within hitting distance of my best friend.

As we trampled through the brush, tall dark figures with no definite shape loomed in my peripheral vision. I snapped my head towards them but they disappeared into the trees. A shiver ran down my spine despite the burning sun in the afternoon sky.

“Still tired?”

“Extremely. I feel like I’m about to keel over.” I flexed my hands and my knuckles popped, a relieved feeling I wish the rest of me would follow.

“Have you had your medicine today?” Darian asked knowingly.

I simply nodded and reached for his phone. He handed it over and I zoomed in on the GPS. We weren’t that far away. Luckily, Randonautica wasn’t leading us to our deaths this time.

At least I hoped so.

I nudged him. “How’s your medicine going?”

“Ehhhh...”

“Dude. You’re supposed to be taking it every day.”

He shrugged and stared down at his phone. “I forget some days is all. Or I wake up too late.”

“Do you set your alarm?”

“Alarms don’t wake me up, remember?”

“I will drive over to your apartment and force you to take your meds, so help me.”

“You couldn’t even get up off the floor today.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and leaned over to check the GPS. The red dot was in the midst of fog on the screen. It didn’t even look like we were supposed to be in a forest, but we were for sure walking right towards it.

“What do we do if something happens again?”

“Run? What else?”

“We got knives.”

“If you want to try stabbing a supernatural entity, be my guest.”

“Listen you-”

Beep!

Darian caught my arm and pulled me back from stepping right off into a stream. I stumbled back from the riverbank and glanced at the GPS.

We had hit the coordinates. All they led to was a rushing river in the middle of the woods. Not the worst thing, definitely the most interesting find we’d gotten so far. I knelt next to the water and gently touched the top, the stream changing course to flow right over my fingers.

It wasn’t until then that I noticed the ever growing silence since we had entered the woods; no birds singing, no insects chirping, no crunching of leaves underneath our feet. Nothing.

SNAP

I spun around on my heel. Right behind us was a neat pile of river rocks that definitely hadn’t been there before. I shared a shaky look with Darian and a silent notion was agreed between us. We weren’t going back the way we came.

Shadowy figures returned to the corner of my eye and I glanced towards them. Rather than disappear, I could’ve sworn one darted into the underbrush. Leaves rustled with no sound and I took a step back, blindly reaching behind me for Darian.

“I’m right here,” he said as he obediently grabbed my hand. He gazed at the river for a moment with a strained expression. “We need to go upstream to get back to the road.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Darian looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes in the afternoon bright. “We came from the North, the river’s coming from that way.”

“Why don’t we get across and climb up the hill.”

“It’s 90 degrees, we can’t climb it.”

“So you propose we swim?”

“No, I propose we walk.”

“Through the river.”

Darian nodded, already looking like he regretted this entire expedition. “Through the river.”

Multiple viewed thoughts battled in my mind, all debating the pros and cons of being idiotic enough to either walk through the storming river or traverse back into the haunted forest. Neither was particularly pleasing and listening to Darian’s ideas had already gotten us into one tight spot today already.

But a small pile of rocks scared me enough to agree.

Luckily we were both wearing shorts. We took off our shoes and placed them in our bags. Then he carefully stepped into the river and held my elbow as I followed. The water was gliding fast past and I wobbled on my feet. I treaded the tiny waves for a bit before letting go of Darian and stood on my own.

Which proved to be a horrendous idea. As soon as I moved, the river kicked up and beat against my legs. I pushed them to cut through the force and instantly all the willpower was sucked out of me.

I trudged against the ever flowing current as it pushed back ten times as hard. I felt like a football player throwing all their weight against those training dummies on the field. My shoulders hurt and my legs grew tired with every feeble step I took.

I looked to my right and my eyes widened. Darian was walking through the water as if he was on dry land, just strolling along with no hint of the frustration or torment I felt. He went at a slow pace to keep up with me but besides that, he was completely fine.

I opened my mouth to voice my frustration, but no sound came out. I gingerly touched my neck and tried to speak. My throat strained and closed in on itself, tightening with my feeble attempts to say anything.

I shut up and waved my hands towards Darian frantically, but he didn’t seem to notice my plight. He simply continued his casual journey up the river. I tried walking over to him but as soon as I turned my feet sideways, the water cranked up a notch at my ankles and nearly knocked me to my knees.

Breathing uneven and panicked, my body heated up in a cool contrast to the cold water overtaking my legs. Even though the stream was only knee-high, my entire body cooled down to the same temperature and I shivered in the 85 degree heat.

The dark figures returned and overstayed their welcome as I suffered in the river. Growing darkness in my vision as every bit of strength I had mustered quickly depleted from my body. Time was irrelevant as fear gripped my heart the more I spoke silent pleas for help.

My feet started to sink and my heart pounded against my ribcage. I floundered forward and reached for Darian, but he didn’t notice. Or couldn’t.

We had hit the end of the stream and the edge of the woods. The car and consequently freedom wasn’t far away. If only I could break free.

Darian started to step onto the bank, turning to me when I didn’t follow. “Jake? You coming?”

I shook my head and tried lifting my foot, only for it to be dragged back down. My ankles were now sunk into the rocks at the bottom of the stream, piling around my scarred skin like a bonfire.

Suddenly aware of the danger surrounding us, he grabbed both of my wrists and pulled on them. Pain shot through my arms but I couldn’t yell it out. The stream pulled just as hard and I was in a tug of war for my life.

Darian gripped my hands so tight his knuckles creeped white around the edges. He yanked one more time and it was like the river finally deemed us worthy to be let go of its clutches. I lurched forward and into his shaking arms, my elbows dipping into the water.

He immediately grappled for the rest of me and, together, we scrambled onto the shore. Our shoes kicked up dirt behind us as he pulled me onto dry land. I dug my gnarled fingers into the soil, breathing heavily.

Coughing, I looked up at Darian and choked out, “Thanks.” The word felt like molasses on my tongue.

“No problem,” was his only response. He then took my hand and started rushing further up the river and away from the figures leering out of the trees towards us.

We held hands all the way back through the dense woods and back to the car. Darian reluctantly let go to fish his keys out of his pocket and we slid into the front seats. As we drove home barefooted, I took out my knife and held it open on my lap.

#writeblr #wip #the days #horror #depression #part three #wtwcommunity #wip update #the day we kept moving forward

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magical-bigbang-noona · 3 years ago

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I'm still completely stunned over the verdict. I honestly did not expect that.

I don't feel like I thought I would? I wanted him to see accountability for his part and it happened.

I still feel betrayed and used. I'm mad at myself for giving him the benefit of the doubt all those years even though red flags kept going up. For supporting him enthusiastically during his solo year and thinking he'd turned himself around. I admit, I turned a blind eye, even when I saw video and read actual testimony of how he treated fans who'd won a contest and got to meet him at his m/v shoot.

"Oh, he was tired. Oh, that's just narcissist Seungri flaring up under pressure. Don't worry about it. He'll do better tomorrow."

I still find it chilling now how the members ramped up their warnings and pleas to him, couched in jokes in public, during the run up to him being alone and responsible for carrying the BigBang banner.

I honestly think "Papa YG" had a really harmful influence on him. I mean, the whole kpop industry is a pressure cooker anyway, but he treated his non favorite artists terribly. Look what he did to 2ne1. He was misogynistic and cruel and threw them under the bus whenever they needed the company's support most.

That scene fans uwu over of him finally giving Seungri a birthday acknowledgement while Seungri is sobbing and apologizing always made me nauseous, personally. He treated him like dirt for years, took him under his wing for awhile while GD was gone and his album was getting noticed, then dumped him again because BlackPink was doing phenomenal.

We saw how he treated iKon, how the company abandoned B.I. even though they were the ones who let the kind of environment they shouldn't have flourish on the down low at their own company. Way to pass the buck and deflect your own wrongdoings, YG.

I personally think he's one who should be doing jail time.

That was a bad set of circumstances for someone with Seungri's personality to grow up and work in. It doesn't excuse him by any means but I think it explains a lot.

It's a shame someone was made to feel they had no talent because they weren't as shiny as the wunderkind that was Jiyong or as surprisingly successful as T.O.P. became and spent their whole career trying to get the boss's recognition.

He has talent. The Great Seungri is a good album. He definitely did not deserve to be abandoned on his tour and promotions, business wise.

I think he acted out and tried to prove himself in some obviously harmful ways. Coupled with the rampant misogyny in the culture and the industry where women are either dismissed or objectified, it had all the ingredients for disaster. (Not that he didn't already have those behaviors but having it condoned and excused by his peers and having the clout and wealth to get it covered up by a corrupt justice system as he saw the people he wanted to emulate do...well...that's a dumpster fire of Bad just waiting to happen. He got involved in dealings he should never have gone near and it got worse. He just got better at hiding it.)

I honestly liked his voice. Strong Baby was honestly my favorite solo BB song. He performed it beautifully and knocked it out of the park during the MADE tour. I loved VVIP and it's m/v. He never got enough credit for what he DID do right.

And it's not just Korea, take a look at the Weinstein sexual abuse culture in Hollywood that flourished for years. Look at uber rich billionaire Jeffrey Epstein and his pedophile ring with other rich and famous men. Seriously, if you want to be thoroughly horrified watch the documentary about him on NetFlix. It will make you physically ill to see what he did and how long he got away with it because of money, power, and an army of lawyers, some who were also involved and also still lying about their involvement. Ex-Cheeto-Prez was one of his besties. It's a seething 💩-show.

The powerful, rich, and famous, mostly men, should not keep getting passes on their criminal behavior. Nor should corrupt government.

This was longer than I meant it to be but I needed to vent. There was never going to be any good outcome and happily ever after for everyone.

Mostly I am experiencing every bit of the confused feelings as I had when all this was first brought to light. And yeah, I'm shocked as hell he got a prison sentence and arrested as a flight risk. I was convinced he'd skate.

I never thought any of the ones still outside the initial net would be brought to account. My wish is that they prosecute some of the ones higher up the privileged, elitist, and monied ladder than Seungri and his circle of friends.

Lastly, a disclaimer to say I'm not setting my feelings on this matter down as the absolute gospel truth of everything. It's merely my take on what my view was/is.

I hope the remaining 4 get thru this with minimal shots and criticism aimed at them. l hope to see them come back and not have their legacy tarnished. They don't deserve that.

#if you made it this far #kudos to you #i had to vent #out with the poison #seungri #seungri sentencing #personal opinion

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jadelotusflower · 4 years ago

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November Roundup

Some writing success this month - I finished and posted a new chapter for Against the Dying of the Light, and made progress on The Lady of the Lake and Turn Your Face to the Sun. I didn’t work much on my novel, but I did do some editing on the first third so that’s progress.

Words written this month: 6647

Total this year: 67,514

November books

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo - joint winner of the 2019 Booker Prize (with The Testaments by Margaret Atwood) this was an engrossing and interesting read. Stylistically unusual formatting and scant use of punctuation that is a bit jarring at first, but you quickly adapt as you read. There’s no plot as such - instead the story is formed by vignettes of twelve black women and their disparate yet interconnected lives. We have mothers and daughters, close friends, teachers and students, although the connections aren’t always obvious at first - we can be exposed to a character briefly in the story of another with no idea that she will be a focus later on. It’s very skillfully done, to the point whereupon finishing I wanted immediately to re-read (but alas, it was already overdue back to the library). There is so much ground covered that we are really only given a glimpse into the characters lives, but there is a diversity of intergenerational perspectives of the African diaspora in the UK, and I highly recommend.

The Evening and the Morning by Ken Follett - after finishing The Pillars of the Earth I had intended to read the sequel, but this was available on the library shelf and I had to place a hold on World Without End, so the prequel came first. Set sixty years before the Conquest (150 before Pillars) it primarily addresses the growth of the hamlet of Dreng’s Ferry into the town of Kingsbridge, through the lives of a monk with a strong moral code, a clever and beautiful noblewoman, and a skilled builder, working against the machinations of an evil bishop. Sound familiar? This is Follet’s most recent work, and I do wonder if he’s running out of ideas as this covers very similar thematic ground.

Ragna is a compelling female character, but once again the romance-that-cannot-be with Edgar is tepid, Aldred is a very watered down version of Prior Philip, and there’s no grand framing device such as building the cathedral to really tie to all together (although things do Get Built, and it’s interesting but not on the level of Pillars). This is the tail end of the Dark Ages and it shows - Viking raids, slavery, infanticide - and while it seems Follett’s style is to put his characters through much tragedy and tribulation before their happy ending, I wish writers would stop going to the rape well so readily. But at least the sexual violence isn’t as...lasciviously written as in Pillars? Scant praise, I know. But Follett’s strength in drawing the reader into the world and time period is on display, made even more interesting in this era about which we know very little.

Women and Leadership by Julia Gillard and Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala - I have a great deal of respect for Julia Gillard, Australia’s first female Prime Minister who was treated utterly shamefully during her tenure and never got the credit she deserved, perhaps excepting the reaction to her iconic “misogny speech” whichyou can enjoy in full here:

youtube

Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala was the first woman to be Minister of Finance and Foreign Affairs in Nigeria, was also the former Managing Director of the World Bank, and currently a candidate for Director-General of the WTO.

This is an interesting examination of women in leadership roles, comparing and contrasting the lives and experiences of a select few including (those I found the most interesting) Ellen Sirleaf, the first female President of Liberia, Joyce Banda, the first female President of Malawi, New Zealand’s current Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, and of course, Gillard and Okonjo-Iweala themselves.

November shows/movies

The Vow and Seduced: Inside the NXIVM Cult - I’ve been following the NXIVM case for a while now, when the news broke in 2017 I was surprised and intrigued that it involved actresses from some of my fandom interests - Alison Mack (Smallville), Grace Park and Nikki Clyne (Battlestar Galactica), and Bonnie Piasse (Star Wars). Uncovered: Escaping NXIVM is an excellent podcast from that point in time that’s well worth a listen. There’s been a lot of discussion comparing these two documentaries and which one is better, but I feel they’re both worthwhile.

The Vow gives a primer of NXIVM as a predatory “self improvement” pyramid scheme/cult run by human garbage Keith Reniere, from the perspective of former members turned whistleblowers Bonnie Piasse, who first suspected things were wrong, her husband Mark Vicente who was high up in the organisation, and Sarah Edmondson who was a member of DOS, the secret group within NXIVM that involved branding and sex trafficking. Seduced gives more insight into the depravity and criminality of DOS from the pov of India Oxenburg, just 19 when she joined the group and who became Alison Mack’s “slave” in DOS - she was required to give monthly “collateral” in the form of explicit photographs or incriminating information about herself or her family, had to ask Mack’s permission before eating anything (only 500 calories allowed per day), was ordered to have sex with Reniere, and other horrific treatment - Mack herself was slave to Reniere (as was Nikki Clyne) and there were even more horrific crimes including rape and imprisonments of underage girls.

Of course each show has an interest in portraying its subjects as less culpable than perhaps they were (there were people above and below them all in the pyramid after all) - Vicente and Edmondson in The Vow and Oxenburg in Seduced, but what I did appreciate about Seduced was the multiple experts to explain how and why people were indoctrinated into this cult, and why it was so difficult to break free from it. This is a story of victims who were also victimisers and all the complications that come along with that, although I’m not sure any of these people are in the place yet to really reckon with what happened and all need a lot of therapy.

Focusing on individual journeys also narrows the scope - there are other NXIVM members interviewed I would have liked to have heard a lot more from. There is also a lot of jumping back and forth in time in both docos so the timeline is never quite clear unless you do further research. I would actually like to see another documentary one day a bit further removed from events dealing with the whole thing from start to finish from a neutral perspective. The good news is that Reniere was recently sentenced to 120 years in prison so he can rot.

I saw value in both, but you’re only going to watch one of these, I would say go for Seduced - if you’re interested in as much information as possible, watch The Vow first to get a primer on all the main players and then Seduced for the full(er) story.

The Crown (season 4) - While I love absolutely everything Olivia Coleman does, I thought it took a while for her to settle in as the Queen last season and it’s almost sad that she really nailed it this season, just in time for the next cast changeover (but I also love everything Imelda Staunton does so...) This may be an unpopular opinion, but I wasn’t completely sold on Gillian Anderson as Thatcher - yes I know she sounded somewhat Like That, but for me the performance was a little too...affected? (and someone get her a cough drop, please!)

It is also an almost sympathetic portrayal of Thatcher - even though it does demonstrate her classism and internalised misogyny, it doesn’t really explore the full impact of Thatcherism, why she was such a polarising figure to the extent that some would react like this to her death:

youtube

But I suppose it’s called The Crown, not The PM.

Emma Corrin is wonderful as Diana, and boy do they take no prisoners with Charles (or the other male spawn). I was actually surprised at how terrible they made Charles seem rather than both sidesing it as I had expected (but perhaps that’s being saved for season 5). It does hammer home just how young Diana was when they were married (19 to Charles’ 32), how incompatible they were and the toxicity of their marriage (standard disclaimer yes it’s all fictionalised blah blah). The performances are exceptional across the board - Tobias Menzies and Josh O’Conner were also standouts and it’s a shame to see them go.

I was however disappointed to see that the episode covering Charles and Di’s tour of Australia was not only called “Terra Nullius” but the term was used as a very tone deaf metephor that modern Australia was no longer “nobody’s land/country”. For those who aren’t aware, terra nullius was the disgraceful legal justification for British invasion/colonisation of Australia despite the fact that the Indigenous people had inhabited the continent for 50,000 years or more. While the tour was pre-Mabo (the decision that overturned the doctrine of terra nullius and acknowledged native title), there was no need to use this to make the point, especially when there was no mention at all of the true meaning/implication of the term.

The Spanish Princess (season 2, episodes 4-8)- Sigh. I guess I’m more annoyed at the squandered potential of this show, since the purpose ostensibly was to focus on the time before The Great Matter and give Katherine “her due” - and instead they went and made her the most unsympathetic, unlikeable character in the whole damn show. (Spoilers) She literally rips Bessie Blount’s baby from her body and, heedless to a mother’s pleas to hold her child, runs off to Henry so she can present him with “a son”. I mean, what the actual fuck?

I’m not a stickler for historical accuracy so long as it’s accurate to the spirit of history (The Tudors had its flaws, but it threaded this needle most of the time), but this Katherine isn’t even a shadow of her historical figure - she’s not a troubled heroine, she’s cruel and vindictive, Margaret Pole is a sanctimonious prig, and Margaret Tudor does little but sneer and shout - the only one who comes out unscathed is Mary Tudor (the elder), and it’s only because she’s barely in it at all. It’s a shame because I like all of these actresses (especially Georgie Henley and Laura Carmichael) but they are just given dreck to work with.

This is not an issue with flawed characters, it’s the bizarre presentation of these characters that seems to want to be girl power rah rah, and yet at the same time feels utterly misogynistic by pitting the women against each other or making them spiteful, stupid, or crazy for The Drama. I realise this is based on Gregory so par for the course, but it feels particularly egregious here. (Spoilers) At one point Margaret Pole is banished from court by Henry, and because Katherine won’t help her (because she cant!) she decides to spill the beans about Katherine’s non-virginity. Yes, her revenge against the hated Tudors is...to give Henry exactly what he wants? Even though it will result in young Mary, who she loves and cares for, being disinherited? Girlboss!

This season also missed the opportunity to build on its predecessors The White Queen/Princess and show why it was so important to Henry to have a male heir - the Tudor reign wasn’t built on the firmest foundations and so needed uncontested transfer of power, at the time there was historic precedent that passing the throne to a daughter led to Anarchy, and wars of succession were very recent in everyone’s memory. At least no one was bleating about The Curse this time, which is actually kind of surprising, because the point of the stupid curse is the Tudor dynasty drama.

But it’s not all terrible. Lina and Oviedo are the best part of the show, and (spoilers) thankfully make it out alive. Both are a delight to watch and I wish the show had been just about them.

Oh well. One day maybe we’ll get the Katherine of Aragon show we deserve - at least I can say that the costumes were pretty, small consolation though it is.

#november roundup #long post

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closetkpop · 5 years ago

Text

Win This Fight (GOT7 Jackson Wang x Dancer You) Part 2

Gif not mine Angst/Fluff/Smut This is purely fiction, nothing is real. A tad bit of smut in this chapter read at your own risk! Not proofread

Part 1 Part 2

Touring is not as glamorous as one thinks. There is so much packing, unpacking, and jet lag involved. Even though it may have its downsides, every city that was visited had its own aura and vibe, making every show memorable. Your favorite stop would have to be when you visited your hometown. At that show all your closest friends and family were also there to support. You were actually waiting for the day that the tour would end in Seoul so you could have one day that was free of schedules and a have a home cooked meal. After 2 months, you finally returned back into your small apartment. It was a mission to be unpacked as fast as possible so you took the clothes that were in the suitcase and dumped it into the washing machine, organized the shoes back to its rightful place, and sorted out all the gifts and souvenirs that was acquired through every trip. In record time the bag was unpacked and the washing machine had about 10 minutes left until it needed to be put into the dryer. You decided to call up Eric to see if he wanted to veg out on the couch.

“Hey Y/N! You’re back, how was the tour?” Eric answered animatedly “Hi Eric! Yes I am back, the tour was amazing.” “Are you tired or jet-lagged? The boys and I were going to go out to the club. Did you want to join?” “I don’t know Eric…” you look at the time and it was only 5pm yet you were already feeling tired. He sensed your hesitation, “Nia already told me she’s coming, so you won’t be alone.” He tried bargaining You started laughing, “If you two are together them I am definitely NOT going! As much as I love the both of you, once you two see each other it’s like no one else is there.” “Hey, don’t hate we still want you there.” You heard Nia over the phone “Really Eric, we literally just got back and you are already at her place?” you teased “Guess who picked her up.” “That’s why you couldn’t pick me up from the airport? We were literally at the SAME airport. I had to take an Uber home.” You feigned offended “I wanted some alone time with my girl.” You sighed; they were adorable together and couldn’t help but smile. “You could have called Jackson.” Eric responded Immediately the smile was wiped off your face. “Eric don’t-“ “Don’t Eric me…” he sassed, “He keeps on asking about you and I can see he’s not satisfied with my generic ‘okay’ answer.” “It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him, I just don’t know what to say.” “Have you met him? He talks a lot. I’m sure he just wants to see you, and I do too! So it’s settled you are coming tonight. I will pick you up to make up for the airport, how does that sound?” “Okay I’ll be ready.” You answer dejectedly “Try not to sound too excited. Be downstairs at 9. Bye see you later.” “Yeah ok bye!”

You quickly put your clothes in the dryer and head downstairs to get a small take-out meal. After eating quickly you figured out which dress you were going to wear and napped until it was time to shower and get ready. You slipped into your favorite black dress and black heels. Applied light make-up and was out the door. The venue was a laid back nightclub that was much fancier inside compared to its scruffy looking exterior. Upon entry glasses of champagne were handed to everyone and lots of people were already drunk dancing on the dance floor. “Hey Eric, what is this place?” “Oh JYP invested in this place and he’s letting his staffs and artists hangout and drink here so we don’t have to deal with paparazzi or other outsiders. But since today is special it’s by invitation only.” “Really so even when you are not working he can still watch you? Man what is this guys problem?” “It’s not like that, we choose to come here, and the liquor is free for us here so why wouldn’t we come here? As you can see no one cares so just shut up and drink up and lets have fun!” “Fine let’s do some shots!” you cheered along with everyone and down two shots of soju before joining everyone on the dance floor “You said today is special and by invite only right? What’s so special about today?” “I am not going to tell you!” he said dancing behind Nia using her as a shield “Nia, will you tell me?” “It’s not for me to say.” She said looking behind you You turn around and met face to face with Jackson. In your head suddenly he is the only one you can see and hear. “I am glad to see you are actually okay.” He said with his deep voice, oh how much you wish to hear his voice all day. Both of you took your time looking at each other and welcoming each presence. You were still in shock and did not expect to run into him this soon that no words were able to come out. “Today’s not that special really. JYP rented out the space for my birthday.” He said casually breaking the eye contact to look at the people around “I..I- Uh I didn’t get you a present.” You stuttered out a response to the best of your ability. “You just got back, I am glad you made it.” He said looking deeply into your eyes, “I really am happy to see you.” Once again no words were coming out so you just nodded. “I guess I should be mixing with the all the guests.” He stated but did not budge from your side “Yeah, sorry to hold you up.” He smirked and started slowly walking away. There was so much you wanted to talk about; his health, GOT7 activities, or his Chinese activities, and the kiss. “Jackson wait!” Immediately he stopped and turned around and once again your mouth could not function, “Happy Birthday.” “Thank you Y/N,” he said disappearing into the crowd. Apparently many celebrities were there, not that you noticed. You tried to keep your thoughts clear but your eyes would always seem to find Jackson. He was there mingling with everyone, talking and laughing freely. You promised the last time you were with him that you would not act like strangers, yet here you were unable to make more than a sentence. This put a damper on your mood so you sat at an empty table and watched the partygoers. You were playing with the confetti on the table when someone approached you. “Care to dance?” You looked up and did not recognize the face, “Not really. Nothing personal just not in the mood.” “Hmm…” He took a seat next to you, “A beautiful woman sitting alone at a table doesn’t seem right.” “A lot of things in this world are not right.” “Yeah like a dancer not wanting to dance at a party,” he deadpanned. “Right… Is there anything I can help you with?” “Just making conversation until my friend is done in the bathroom.” As if on queue his friend had emerged. “Who do we have here? Why is this pretty little thing all alone? If you want, you can hang out with us.” His friend clearly drunk sat next to you. “No it’s okay, I came here with my friends, I just needed a moment alone. So please leave me.” You asked nicely You were in between two strangers who did not budge when you asked them to leave you alone. “Fine if you won’t leave, I will.” You said getting up They grabbed your hands and forced you to sit back down. The drunk one slid his arm on the back of the chair and onto your shoulder, “There’s no rush sweetheart,” he tipped your chin closer to his face. Behind his head, you saw Jackson in the distance near the dance floor. He was staring straight at you, and he looked heartbroken. To him it looked like you were in the company of two handsome guys, so he disappeared before he did anything stupid at his own party. When in fact really all you wanted to do is be in Jackson’s arms. Before you could even plea for his help to get you out of this uncomfortable situation, you felt the drunk mans stubble and chapped lips on your neck. “Stop it!” you yelled, “Stop touching me I don’t want you touching me!” The music was loud but some bystanders started staring which caused the two men to let your hands go. You took the opportunity to get away. You ran into the bathroom to scrub off your neck where he kissed it. You took deep breaths and tried your hardest not to cry. Upon exiting you ran straight to Eric and Nia who immediately knew something was wrong. “Let’s go it’s getting really crowded here.” Nia said You nodded and started walking to the door. “I’m going to let Jackson know we’re going.” You both nodded and waited near the exit. “What happened?” Nia asked “Those two creeps over there were not leaving me alone, and the one with the longer hair, he drunk and kissed me.” You spoke quickly “THEY DID WHAT?!” Nia exclaimed “I am going to get them kicked out, no one just gets to do whatever they want in here.” Nia was fuming “Okay I’m back, what did I miss?” Eric came to your sad face and Nia’s livid face “Baby,” Nia started, “You see those two guys over there?” “Oh yeah, those are Jackson’s choreographers what about them?” “Well they were harassing Y/N, and one of them even kissed her without her permission.” “What?” His face dropped “It’s true. Can we just leave? Please?” You begged “Yes we are leaving but are you alright, is there anything else I can do? Should I tell Jackson?” “No! You are not going to tell Jackson anything Eric,” You warned. “And I am okay just a little shaken. My mind just thinks had we been in another situation what could have happened.” “Don’t worry, I will always be there for you. You are my best friend.” Eric said hugging you. “Me too.” Nia joined --- 3 AM Banging on your front door. You look through the peephole and see nothing. You turn on the lights outside your door and see someone standing but still not clear enough. “Who is it?” you try to keep your voice as even as possible “It’s me Jackson.” He said taking off his black hat and facemask. You open the door and let him in. He takes a seat on your couch while you prefer to sit on the tea table in front of him. “How did you find my house?” You asked, this seemed a good way to break the silence. “Eric.” He answered quickly, he looked angry. “So what are you doing here? Are you okay?” “No you answer me this,” he stood up “Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you at my party, not just someone my choreographer?” “Ah did Eric tell you that too? He really cannot keep his mouth shut.” “Nia told me.” Oh you were really in trouble then. “What do I say to you Jackson? It was your birthday celebration. And this guy is like a brother to you.” “Yeah he is like a brother to me, that’s why when I saw you two together I thought you deserve someone like him who will be able to spend time with you, and take you out, and have a normal life with. Not someone like me.” He vented. “I didn’t know he was making a pass at you. The fact that he touched you without your permission just disgusts me.” “Jackson,” you tried to calm him “You want to know what makes me even angrier? It’s the fact that you didn’t want to tell me. We said, no, we promised that we weren’t going to behave like strangers, so tell me why I have had longer conversations with Coco than I have had with you? Why didn’t you talk to me at all the entire trip?” He paused and there was silence. You never thought a man that was always so happy could be this angry. And all his anger was being directed to you. “I’m sorry.” You said with an even voice but then felt your voice growing. “I didn’t want to tell you because I know you look up to him and I did not want to ruin the years of friendship you had with him because he drunk kissed me. I felt uncomfortable so I left. For many girls it ends much worse for them, and not everyone has a best friend or a night in shining armor to help them. I didn’t know what to say to you because I’m trying to be the best so your company doesn’t feel ashamed to see you with me. And honestly I am not there yet. I didn’t talk to you the entire trip because I didn’t know what to say after you kissed me, and I didn’t know where we stood. And quite frankly it bothers me that you think I would be talking to another guy at your own party, when I thought I made it perfectly clear that the only lips I want on my neck are yours!” You panted suddenly aware of exactly how much you had to say. He hugged and your body molded perfectly into his, and you both felt the anger disappearing. “I’m sorry I yelled.” He whispered “I’m sorry I was quiet.” After some time, he let go of your body and pulled you onto the couch with him. “So tell me about the tour.” And you did, and spent the rest of the night talking whatever was on your mind. --- You woke up facing Jackson. His arms were around your body and your legs were intertwined. You started to shift out of his hold but he just grabbed onto you tighter. “5 more minutes” his voice somehow deeper in the morning. “You don’t have a schedule today?” you said running fingers through his hair “I expected to be hung-over so I requested today off.” You laid in his arms until he was satisfied. He had set up an alarm and casually turned around to turn it off and pulled on a shirt. “I am happy I came here instead of going back to the condo with the boys. If I were there I would be in the bathtub or something.” He said stretching and getting up You started to fix the covers, and headed into the bathroom to do your morning routine. Once you got out of the bathroom you handed Jackson a spare toothbrush and large clothes, though he opted into being shirtless. You started on eggs for breakfast and he came into the kitchen to start on dishes. “So what are your plans for today?” he asked as you both sat down “Nothing, you?” “Nothing too.” “Wow you really are a rapper Dr. Seuss.” You teased “I try.” He brushed his shoulders trying to hold in his bright laughter “So what would you like to do?” “If I can stay over? I really like talking with you,” He pleaded with his puppy eyes. “Sure.” You said sipping your coffee “Yay! Netflix and chill all day!” He beamed You choked a bit on your coffee and he immediately tried to correct himself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. My intentions are innocent. Get your mind out of the gutter freak.” He playfully nudged. After some time of eating in silence, Jackson started again, “Hey I actually need your help with something.” “What’s up?” “I am looking for a new choreographer. Do you know someone that can dance?” He suggested to you. “You’re really going to replace him?” “Hell yeah! I don’t want a pervert on my team. Why are you even defending him?” He said holding your hand. “Also I am giving you an opportunity to join Team Wang. It is separate from JYP, he has nothing to do with my Chinese activities.” “I am not defending him, I just don’t want him to lose his job because of something he did when he was drunk.” He looked straight into your eyes, “Wow, I really am looking at an angel right now.” “Oh stop it.” You shied away from his intensity “No really! You know what they say the only people who say the truth are children and drunken people. No matter how much I drink, I would never treat a woman like how he was treating you.” He said facing you “Okay, I’ll help you out, as a friend though.” You clarified, “I will always be your supporter and always on your team.” “I was hoping you would help me as more than a friend.” He suggested “What happened to innocent intentions?” “I will be. I just don’t want you to get all hot an bothered while dancing with me.” “Oh then I guess you need to find a new choreographer.” You said standing up and putting the dishes away “No wait!” He whined You giggled at his sad puppy face and he brought you into a big bear hug successfully lifting you in the air and spinning around. He put you down but didn’t release the hug, “I like this.” “Like what?” “This, us. We’re talking so casually. I really like it.” He said hugging you one more time “I like this too.” You said hugging him a bit tighter, not only referring to the talking but also they warm feeling that was inside your heart. One thing about Jackson, once he gets serious all playfulness is out the door. We were trying to get the choreography just right in time for his new song released, “100 Ways.” The song had a playful vibe with a great beat drop, but behind the happiness, there was a much darker backstory. The dancing was very fast. Every moment had to be strong but also precise. A halfway mark finally had been reached and you were drenched in sweat despite the air con fully blasting cool air. You collapsed on the couch while Jackson went to get water for the both of you. He came back and laughed at your exhausted state. “Come on, you’re telling me one of the best dancers in Korea is tired after only 3 hours of dancing? Come on Y/N you are slacking on me here.” He said handing you the water “What happened to Netflix and chill and being lazy?” you said out of breath “That’s after we finish perfecting the dance.” He said getting up and stretching, “Come on break is over.” “Noooo, it hasn’t even been 2 minutes.” You complained He pulled you up to your feet and hugged you. He was sweaty (so were you) but no complains were made. Something about being in his arms always made you feel good. He seriously was your energy. You hummed in content. “Feeling better?” “Yeah.” Both were in comfortable silence but you couldn’t shake off this feeling in the back of your head. You both were acting like a couple even though neither one had the right to do so. You quickly let go before your mind could overthink “Not that I am not enjoying this, but lets wrap this up okay?” you said starting the music again Jackson noticed your sudden change in demeanor, “Hey if you don’t want to do this we can stop. I just want to spend time with you but, if you’d rather do something else… or if you have other plans. I mean you already helped a lot I’m sure I can figure out the rest from here,” he began rambling. “No I didn’t mean it like that. I do want you to be here, and I do want to help you! I was just thinking too much into this.” you motioned between each other “What are you thinking into?” “Jackson don’t you think we are being too couple-y?” you asked softly He took a moment to see if you were going to add to your question. He took your silence as a chance to respond. “Yeah we do act like a couple. So what?” “But we’re not.” “We are not.” He said slowly, “But I very much would like to be. I am trying my hardest not to just stop everything and just kiss you into oblivion.” That managed to crack a smile on your face. “I would like to as well, but dating me would ruin your idol image.” “No, it won’t. And so what, we keep it a secret only between us. Just until we figure out how to break the news to everyone.” “Jackson a relationship is the last thing you need right now on top of that a secret one. I am not saying I am high maintenance but you are going to be exhausted, and that’s not fair for you.” “Y/N can I kiss you?” He asked out of the blue “I am being serious!” “So am I. I really want to kiss you.” He stood in front of you and crouched down to your eye level. “You didn’t ask me for permission the last time you kissed me.” You joked, “You’re not as innocent as you think you are.” “It’s a simple yes or no.” He puckered his lips in front of you “Buy me dinner first.” He giggled. “You’re really going to leave these lips hanging?” “I really am.” You shimmied away from him, “Come on let’s dance!” “Noooo!” he was the one complaining now. --- Dinner was more of take-out and yes Jackson did buy. Everything was sprawled across the dinner table and wine was being poured. “Did you have fun today? I know it’s not ideal to be working on your birthday.” You started “I haven’t had this much fun on my birthday in years.” He said shoving food into his mouth “Slow down you’re going to choke!” you said pouring him a glass of wine, “So what can I get you for your birthday?” “You already gave me a gift. Now every time I dance or hear this song I’ll only think of you.” Ever since the conversation prior there has been a tension in the air and the both of you are doing your best to ignore it and keeping the atmosphere as light and playful as possible. “That doesn’t count, this was a freebie. I help you with your dance, you bought me takeout, we’re even.” He just smirked and continued eating silently, which was completely out of character. “What’s with the smirk?” “Nothing.” “What tell me!” you lightly shoved him and he grabs hold of you and keeps his arm around your shoulder. “So this, would you consider this me buying you dinner?” he asks holding you close “I mean it kind of is dinner. But we didn’t really go out.” You said teasing and sipping your wine He caught on to your tone, and leaned in closer to you. He took the wine glass out of your hand and placed it gently on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. He used the same hand and placed it on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You deserve better than me.” He said softly “What? Jackson no! I should be the one saying that.” You responded confused “You deserve someone to take you out on dates, and enjoy a normal life with. If you’re with me this is the best I can do, quick takeout dinners at home. Y/N you deserve more than that.” “I don’t care about that, I am just more than happy to spend time with you.” “You say that now, but how about later on? Work will always get in the way. Work will always be my first priority. That’s not fair.” “Where is this coming from? I just thought you were going to kiss me just now.” You said getting up and creating some space. You lacked his body heat and instantly felt the difference. “Y/N. I want to kiss you, been wanting to since I saw you yesterday. But then I saw your face, your beautiful innocent face and instant thought what if they find out and take you away from me for good?” “What are you talking about? How much wine did you have?” “Y/N-“ He said getting up as well “Jackson, please let’s just worry about the future when we get there.” You said snaking your arms around his waist and looking up at him. He took your face in his hands again, “I worry about you, a lot. It’s probably unhealthy how much I worry about you. And JYP has a lot of friends in high places. He can make sure you never make it in Korea.” “I worry about you too. But know this, I don’t care if he wants to play that way, let him, you can’t stop him. You said it yourself make it big, so I will. And so what if he knows some big people in Korea, I now know some people of my own. Just wait and enjoy the show, I’ve got plans.” “Am I in any of those plans.” He said rubbing circles on your waist “Publicly, no you are not.” He pouted. “Privately, I really do hope so.” He leaned down and finally captured you lips in a long awaited kiss. He did not hesitate to deepen this kiss and pull your body closer to him. You hands also freely roamed his body feeling his toned back, biceps, and pecks. You felt his heart beating fast and paused to make sure he was okay. “Jackson?” As if he knew what you were going to ask, he already answered he’s okay and resumed kissing you this time pushing you to the nearest solid surface, which just so happened to be your fridge. Magnets and other small bottles in the fridge definitely had fallen but the both of you didn’t seem to care. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs and told you to jump. You latched onto his body and he carried you to the bed. His body caged you under him and he was once again staring into your eyes making sure you had no hesitation. You pulled him closer and started kissing him again the other hand lifting up his shirt. He pulled off his shirt not breaking the kiss and helped you take yours off too. His newfound access to your body had him reeling with excitement. His large hands were on your hips and his lips were on your neck. “Be mine?” he said kissing down the valley between your breasts “Yes Jackson.” “Forever.” He said looking up to you “No one is going to get in between us.” He kept going lower, pulling the band of your pants down. You starting grinding your hips up and he tossed the piece of fabric across the room. He kissed his way down to your inner thigh and returned to kissing your lips. His hands roamed freely grabbing your breasts and slowly making his way lower, until he reached the thin band of your panties. He lifted it slightly and his fingers made contact with your core. Your moans were being muffled by Jackson’s mouth on yours. While his hands were busy, you also were rubbing his hard shaft through his pants. When you reached in and touched it with your hand he let out a hiss mixed with a groan. “Fuck baby.” He tenderly whispered in your ear. He helped you get full access to his cock, and returned back to fingering you. When he felt you were stretched and wet enough he guided you under him and lined himself up. He slowly filled you up and the slight burn was there, but he felt so good. He slowly took out his cock and buried you deep several times until you were adjusted. After a few minutes he propped you legs up and set a much faster rhythm and that had you seeing stars. “Oh Jackson! That’s so good!” you screamed out “Y/N you’re so tight.” He continued varying his pace. He would have quick shallow strokes and the next thing you know he will be buried deep inside. No matter what, he held your hand through it all placing soft kisses on your cheek or forehead. “I’m close.” He slowed his hips and removed himself. You were about to whine because you were chasing your high, but then he attacked your core with his tongue. “Jackson..!” you couldn’t speak properly the way his tongue was entering and leaving your hole and lapping up all the arousal. His fingers were rubbing your clit and in no time you were cumming on Jackson’s tongue. Your body stiffened, breathing became irregular, and you could swear your have never came faster or harder in your life. Jackson slowed his hand down as your high passed and just watched you with adoration. “You’re so hot cumming on me you know that right?” he said running fingers in your hair and pecking your lips. “Baby, do you mind turning around for me?” You sluggishly did so, sticking your ass in the air. He slipped his cock back in and the stretch was still there, and you heard him moan, “Baby you’re going to be the death of me,” he said picking up the pace. This time Jackson wasn’t taking his time, he was seeking release and you were more than happy to help him get there. Each thrust was deep and hard and he started mumbling a string of curse words along with your name. He moved your hair aside, “You’re taking me so well, and I’m so close.” His hips snapping up and this deathly grip on your hips signaled he was already on the edge. “Jackson let go, cum inside me. Pretty up my walls.” With that he released with a moan and his cock pulsing inside. He toppled onto you and encased your into a hug. You nuzzled into his sweaty chest and he placed soft kisses onto your head. “Y/N, wow.” You giggled, “Happy Birthday.” You said getting up to clean yourself. You winced when you got onto your feet but the way Jackson was admiring his toll on you made it somewhat okay. “What are you smiling at?” “I have the best and hottest girlfriend in the world.” “I can say the same about you!” you said slipping into the shower to rinse off. You came back to the room and Jackson was half dressed and mindlessly scrolling and texting someone on his phone. He sensed your presence and instantly smiled. You sat on his lap and he wrapped his arms around you as he continued to text. You began placing light kisses on his jaw and cheek. “Will you stay the night?” you asked hopeful “I want to,” He said placing his phone down and rubbing circles on your hips. “But I have an early schedule tomorrow, catching up on the past 2 days of work plus I have a fashion shoot.” He went into work mode. You didn’t respond, you knew he had a busy schedule always, so it is understandable. You didn’t want to sound upset so you said nothing. He also seemed to understand your silence. And started to lay back down with you on top of him. “You know, you can always text me.” “Yeah I know.” You said “I prefer you here though.” He giggled. “I’m sorry was that too clingy? I will stop now.” You said burying your head in his chest “No baby, I like it.” He said pulling you to face him, “Never feel embarrassed when it comes to me.” His phone rang again. He sighed, you got off him and he answered the phone call. You started to get into the covers fluffing up the pillow and sinking under the bed covers. You watched Jackson mindlessly walk around as he was talking on the phone. His conversation ended and he turned back to you. Seeing you under the covers all alone on the queen sized bed made him instantly want to jump in beside you and be your best source of heat and comfort. But his schedule stopped him from doing such. He kneeled next to you on the ground, “Babe, I will have to go now.” “Okay, Stay safe Jackson.” You said holding his hand “Get some rest and again Happy Birthday.” “Thank you Y/N.” He said placing a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight.” “Text me when you get home okay?” you said running a hand through his hair “Will do.” He kissed your lips one last time before leaving your apartment. That night you made many phone calls to your new contacts, literally everyone and anyone; producers, artists, choreographers, anyone that needed help with any project you wanted in. You received many call backs saying they need an extra here and a background dancer there. You even landed a small acting role in an episode of a drama. You scheduled your week so that you can be exposed to as many possibilities you can. Through all this you made sure all your contacts were not in partnerships with JYP. Your vendetta was, if he wanted you, he would have to call himself. 3 months later You were to go to Jackson’s house for date night. Things have been busy between the both of you but little messages between the days made the distance bearable. Your name was starting to become a regular in the business and soon your schedule became just as packed as Jackson’s. The only difference you were more behind the scenes and gaining popularity in production, while Jackson was gaining more popularity in front of the camera. Anyone that needed choreography for a dance, most directors would call you immediately. Yes it was hard the first month doing so many gigs for little to no money, but you showed them your punctuality and expertise to which many were impressed. You typed in the key code and noticed he wasn’t there. You went into the kitchen where you know he keeps your favorite kind of wine and poured yourself a glass waiting for him. You heard his key code being typed in and excitedly waited by the door. When it opened your were greeted by an unfamiliar woman. “Um hi, who are you?” “I’m Jackson’s,” You hadn’t exposed your relationship with Jackson, “I’m his choreographer.” She took a long look at you and did not seem convinced, “Then why are you drinking his wine?” “He always let’s me have full access to his house, this also means his alcohol. Speaking of, where is he?” “Listen honey, I am not dumb, you are obviously not his choreographer, maybe you’re his side piece. All I know is that your services with him are no longer needed. He has a new girl in his life so you can leave now.” “You’re his girlfriend?” you choked out At that moment Jackson walked in completely unaware that you would be there early. “Jackson, I’ll be in our room once you take care of the extra uninvited guest.” She said fluttering away You crossed your arms and waited for an explanation. “Baby,” he stepped closer to you, and you took a step back, “I know it looks bad but you have to believe me when I say she is not my girlfriend you are. I would never betray you like that. She’s just a co-worker who cannot get the hint that I am not into her. And I can’t tell her about us because I know you want to keep it a secret.” You remained quiet trying to process what he just said. You were mad at him, but mostly yourself. “She’s kind of a big deal so I have to be nice to her, but I can tell her to leave, that we had plans first.” He said grabbing your hand You scoffed and went to grab your bag. “Are you asking me for permission? You want me to tell you what to do?” You said in a low tone “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t want to upset you especially because this was supposed to be our night.” “I am upset, you should have thought about that before you invited her over. You should have said tonight is off limits.” You said walking to the door “Come on Y/N you know my schedule can change any minute.” “I do know that! I completely understand if your plans change last minute, just text me let me know ahead of time, and save me the embarrassment.” “Y/N baby-“ “I’ve got to go. My boyfriend’s date is waiting for him in his bedroom.” You walked out and closed the door. You were hoping he would follow you outside and try to convince you to stay but it was no use. As you made your way back to your apartment he hadn’t called or texted once. You skipped dinner and went straight to bed. In the morning you had woken up before your alarm had sounded so you lay in bed scrolling through your Instagram feed. You notice Jackson post a story of him and the girl he was with yesterday with the caption WORK FLOW, New things cooking with fire emojis. His captions and stories always made you smile. Even though you were supposed to be mad at him, it really was hard to hold a grudge. He still had not messaged anything, and being stubborn, you weren’t going to either. You prepared yourself for a long day. Since the weather was getting warmer, more activities were happening outdoors. Today you had to attend 3 photo-shoots and be on set for an advertisement. Most of the apparel was city/street wear and the same clothes were being used to advertise the music video. You were in charge of a simple dance that showed the fashion and durability of the clothes. You got to the shoot early and were showing some basic poses to the models. The photographer was the same one you used for your portfolio pictures, so needless to say he was a friend, so you were not shy about your opinions on what looks good and what does not. As this shoot started to wrap up, your friend asked you to also pose with some apparel and he shot some pictures. You tried some basic poses and some unconventional ones. He kept the ones he liked and the remaining was added to your portfolio. On the way to the next shoot, you got a text from Eric about getting drinks at this new bar. You responded yes seeing that you didn’t have any other plans and continued along with your busy day. Getting home about 830p you were relieved that the day went so well. You hopped into the shower and relaxed your sore muscles, shampooing all the built up sweat and dirt on your face and body. Getting ready for the night, you wore denim shorts that showed off your toned legs and soft thighs with white racer back crop top from the street wear ad and tied a printed long sleeve shirt around your waist. You topped the grungy chic look with a beanie and was on your way. There were a lot of people at the new bar and you were waiting for Eric and everyone else he invited before he went in. While standing admiring the view the waiting area had, someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around and realized it was the girl that Jackson was working with. “What brings you here?” she started “A car.” You responded dryly “You mean you’re here alone?” She feigned concerned “What do you want?” you asked “I just want to know who you are exactly. The other day when you left he wasn’t the same and I need to know who you are to derail someone who is so driven and focused.” “I’m his choreographer.” You responded giving your back to her again. “I don’t believe it.” She said popping up on your side “See we are hanging out tonight but he must be running a little late. I thought maybe he invited you too, since you guys are friends.” “He didn’t invite me, I am meeting up with my other friends.” You responded hurt “Oh whoops, maybe it was just us two that he made the plans for.” She winked, “Oh I see him!” she said waving him down You kept your back to them, not wanting to show Jackson how hurt you were. “Hey look who I ran into waiting for you, it’s that girl from your place.” “Hey Jackson.” You said still not facing him “Hey Y/N.” he said as he was welcomed by your backside. “Do you want us to wait for you while your friends come?” “No have fun with your date.” You responded a little too quickly “Y/N-“ Jackson started with a hand on your shoulder “A date! Wow Jackson I didn’t know this was a date, how romantic!” she started squealing “Hey why don’t you find a table, I’ll be right there.” He said shoving her away He stood beside you admiring your profile. “You look amazing Y/N. I am still very sorry about yesterday.” “I am sorry too Jackson. I miss you there’s so much I want to tell you but I can’t.” You said finally looking at him. His eyes, they were tired and you wanted to abandon all your plans and just take him back to your apartment and cuddle him to sleep. “Tomorrow meet me at my studio, it’s just going to be me and boys.” “I have things to do tomorrow.” “Just reschedule them!” “What? No you reschedule yours!” you paused not wanting to argue, “I understand my plans may not be as important as yours but to me they are.” “No baby they are important to me too.” He said cupping your face in his hands. You took a step back and he cleared his throat and awkwardly put his hands back into his pocket. “Sorry, I miss holding you.” “Eric just texted, he’s inside.” You said smiling up at him, “Want to say hi?” “Yeah let’s go in.” he said wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

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