#also hot take but heat waves is a good song why is it mine or glass animals fault it got over played on tiktok

[fabdante]

1, 13, and 21 for the music ask!

Thank you so much for the ask!! (Ask meme here!)

1.) A Song you Like with a Color in the Title

Blue Lips by Regina Spektor

This was the first song I could remember with a color in the title dfghjkl

13.) One of your Favorite 80s Songs

Touch Me I'm Sick by Mudhoney

We gotta go with one of the early defining grunge songs that became such a thing to the local scene that it got parodied in Singles (also possibly one of the first grunge songs I heard)

21.) A Favorite Song with a Persons Name in the Title

AGNES BY GLASS ANIMALS

Pls excuse my excitement asdfghj Agnes is like one of my absolutely all time favorite songs and I am a Glass Animals girlie so I get excited when I get to mention Agnes asdfghj It's just so...everything about it. Just everything about it. It's so beautiful and haunting and the lyrics are so good and it's just so...literally i want to shake everyone who's mean about Glass Animals because they hate Heat Waves and be like have you HEARD Agnes??????? like literally I'm sorry I'm rambling I'm a spited Glass Animals girlie sdfghjkl but like Look. Look. How to be a Human Being is one of my all time favorite albums and Agnes is just such a beautiful song everyone listen to Agnes dfghjkl

None of that was coherent I just like I really love Agnes. It's such a touching, bittersweet, melancholy song

[sukirichi]

wine: ingredient 44 + sugar 7 + spice 12 for gojo satoru *slams table* thank you for feeding us kind maam

for sukirichi’s milestone event: 

the meal order : 🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) your dinner has been served! also bruh LOL you’re a choso simp this is hilarious spspsps

— who are you to deny him when he only wants to worship you?

gojo satoru x fem! reader

contents/warnings: nsfw, slight angst, reader is hot girl shit, gojo long schlong, hate sex, car sex, spanking, riding gojo, slight angst, praising kink taken to a DIFFERENT LEVEL (i want to make people question the extent of their praising kink), body marking, rough sex lol it’s always rough in my stories, unedited

Your friends pushed you out of the club, all of you laughing, hands clutched around your waists as loud, drunken giggles fill in the night air. It was a wild night; your friends invited you to the club to take your mind off your stupid boyfriend. You thought you’d end up moping around, too much of a buzzkill to ever let loose because it wasn’t that easy to stop thinking about him, but even you were surprised when you started grinding with people on the dance floor just three drinks later.

The gals were more than delighted to see you enjoying your night, only dragging you out the club when you nearly shoved your tongue down another man’s throat.

Scratch that – your friends called you to hang out because you lied about having a shitty day at work. You’ve had your fair share of shitty days, but you were one of the most prominent lawyers in your firm, no one dared gave you a bad day. Your subordinates knew that if they even looked your way without your permission, you wouldn’t hesitate to dump paperwork on them, or assign them to the nastiest cases just to piss them off.

Yeah, you were sort of a bitch, but you didn’t care.

It took a lot to get where you were now. It wasn’t easy to be a woman in a male-dominated workplace and you were forced to strip your softness off, replacing it with hard armor and sharp tongue concealed under bold red lips, a tight pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a pair of black suede pumps.

You deserved all your success. You were smart, stunning, confident, powerful – so then why did you feel like shit around your shitty boyfriend?

The answer was loud and clear. It bothered you to no end that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret because his family was too different from yours, coming up with a shitty excuse that you were just “too different.” He never bothered explaining, and every time you confronted him about, he’d only wave his hand, distract you with those delicious and soft lips of his until you forget it over and over again.

You were okay with it at first. It wasn’t a really serious relationship; you only started dating him because you saw yourself a lot in him – confident, self-assured, maybe even a little cocky – plus, he was extremely attractive.

But the longer you spent time with him, you were beginning to fall in love.

Yes, you, the ice princess of one of the most respected law firms all over the city was beginning to soften up at a certain blue-eyed man who had magical hands.

But tonight – tonight you’d forget about him.

Your stomach was heavy with expensive liquor and you were nearly staggering on your knees, the only thing preventing you from falling were your more sober friends. The others were holding you close to keep you upright, while one of your friends moved to a quieter part of the block to call an Uber for you. Your friends were all happily married, some with children, so they couldn’t really stay out too late at night and chaperone you all the way back home.

You were well-aware you were being a bother, but fuck, couldn’t you lean on someone for just once? Sighing, you leaned closer to your warm friend, mumbling something about wanting to forget about everything you’ve been through.

“There, there,” she patted your head comfortingly, “You’ll be fine, babe, you’re a strong woman. I know you’ll get through this.”

“But I hate it,” you drunkenly admitted, lips trembling the more you thought about him, every stupid little thing about him – his soft white hair, those pretty blue eyes he always hid under shades even at night, his large, calloused hands that always felt so rough when keeping your legs open for him and you couldn’t even start talking about his cock, he was just so blessed and perfect in every little thing that you hated it. You hated him. “I don’t like this feeling,” you sniffled, “I feel like I’m being looked down on, that I’m being pushed to the side. I feel unimportant, like I’m not good enough.”

“Who said you aren’t?”

You froze in your friend’s arms, eyes meeting with those blue ones you could never get enough of. As if noticing your silence, your friend immediately covers you with her arm, glaring at your boyfriend. “Do we know you or something?”

“No,” Satoru replies coolly, brows furrowed in the state you were in. You turned away from him with a scoff, arms crossed on your chest. Why did he have to be here out of all places? Wasn’t he busy with work or whatever family shit he apparently couldn’t tell you about even though you’ve both been dating for a year and a half now? He just wasn’t giving you a break, and the hairs on your arm stood up when he said, “Not that you have to, but may I please drive Y/N home?”

“She’s not going anywhere—”

“She’s a friend of mine,” he insisted, turning to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You almost melted. Almost. “I need to talk to her about something.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, your friend’s arm latching onto yours. You could tell she was worried from the way her gaze darted back and forth between you two. Satoru was, after all, clearly uninvited, and he didn’t seem like your type either. You always insisted you preferred refined man, men like his friend Nanami Kento, but alas, you were stuck dating this one instead.

“It’s fine,” you told her with a fake smile, “I’ll call you later when I get home.”

You never got to call her – simply because you didn’t make it home. The moment Satoru closed the car doors behind you, you both got into a heated argument. Satoru hated silences and always made sure the car was filled with music, but this time, he didn’t notice there weren’t any songs when you opened your mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger and pent-up tension of not being able to hold him and kiss him in public like normal couples did, in addition to the fact Satoru never explained why he insisted on keeping you a secret – whatever it was, you just snapped.

“I don’t even understand why I’m still dating you!” you huffed, legs crossed on top of the other as you gazed out the window. Lips trembling, you tried so hard to not cry, especially not in front of the man who was breaking your heart. “This is hardly a relationship when I’m not free to call or text you as you please, when I can’t go out with you on dates and we’re always hanging in my apartment. I’m your girlfriend, Satoru, we’ve been together for a long time but I honestly don’t even feel like it. What the hell are we dating for then?”

Satoru clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you,” he said coolly, acting unbothered and unaffected as ever, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. “If that’s not enough—”

“Of course it’s not enough!”

“I’m trying here too, okay?” Satoru slammed on the brakes and parked on a desolated spot, hands running through his hair while he breathed heavily. Once he’d calmed down, he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eye like a man. “I’m trying my best. It’s just hard. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“What isn’t easy as it looks? Dating me? Letting the whole world know I’m yours?” when Satoru didn’t respond, you scoffed, patience running low and thin. “You’re pathetic, Satoru. Dating you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I thought I was a smart woman.”

With a shake of your head, you slung your purse over your shoulder and reached for the car door. You were about to leave when Satoru suddenly pulled you towards him, his lips slamming into yours.  Like always, you fell into his trap, into the blissful pleasure that was his lips and his hands, and you hated it, hated him, hated him so fucking much because you were so tired of his entire existence.

You wanted to let him know he was insufferable.

You wanted him to feel the pain and misery he put you through.

“I fucking hate you,” you snarled as Satoru kept fucking into you, the entire car windows fogged and the vehicle shaking. “I wish I never met you, you asshole,” Satoru, displeased, only buries himself deeper into you, as if they would erase his mistakes and shortcomings.

Satoru’s large hands snake to your waist and onto your breasts, expertly tweaking them between his fingers. Your head fell back to the crook of his shoulder, your back pressed against his hard chest as Satoru trapped you in his strong arms, impaling you on his cock over and over again. “You’re lying,” he whispered into your neck, tongue and teeth playfully sucking at the tender flesh. His grip on your hip was bruising and possessive, and your breasts bounced fervently at how he snapped his hips upwards to feel your walls coat him and hug him tightly and warmly. “Why would you hate me, sweet girl? Don’t I always make you feel good? Don’t I remind you enough that you’re the best fucking thing ever?”

You didn’t respond right away, your breath taken away with how you could never get enough of this, of him. He was right no matter how much you denied it. Despite being terrible in everything else, Satoru knew and respected you, even admired your dominance and intelligence when other men were intimidated by it.

No, he worshipped you. He made you feel like you were a divine goddess when he tugged at your hair to tilt your cheek to him, his tongue slithering to your lips to taste himself on his tongue from when you previously busted his nut with just your mouth.

Lipsticks smeared on his cheeks and crescent moons on his pale thigh from your nails, Satoru looked wonderful beneath you like this.

He was beautiful, so damn beautiful, but it didn’t change the fact he’d put you through hell these past few weeks. 

No, it wasn’t just the past few weeks. Things were always complicated with him. He was perfect in everything else but when it came to you, he made it a mission to hide you and your relationship, changing your contact name to a totally random one “just in case.”

Your mind was confuzzled and you felt like you were on the urge of breaking apart from both his ministrations and his confusing treatment over you. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back fervently with the intensity of your hatred over this man.

Your hand reached his to guide it to rub at your clit, and Satoru, eager to make you feel good as always, happily obliged. Satoru kept bouncing you on his cock until you were too overwhelmed to speak, crying and mumbling incomprehensible words. 

Him, only him, would ever have the ability to let the sharp-tongued and intelligent woman who never bat an eye in court lose her wide vocabulary, falling apart in his arms while his long length abused your puffy lips.

“You made me feel like shit,” you finally admitted, tugging at his hair until Satoru is lowly groaning at the slight sting. But did you care? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to hurt him too.

“How so, sweet girl?”

“I can never have you the way I want,” you answered through gritted teeth, moaning out when Satoru suddenly thrusted too deep, hitting your most sensitive spot that had you quivering in his hold. “You don’t—” you gasped, “You don’t understand what I feel, how you make me feel like I’m never good enough for you. That’s the reason why you don’t want anyone else knowing, right? ‘Cause I’m not good enough for you, never gonna be good—”

Satoru didn’t let you finish your words, shutting you up with his cock instead. The vehicle shook uncontrollably with your mating sessions, and Satoru silences you by pulling at your leg to press it on his chest instead.

The sudden switch in positions had your muscles tensing and stretching, adding only to both your pleasures with the new thrown in factor of slight pain. You felt Satoru kiss your neck down to your shoulders, scraping his canines until you were absolutely lost. You gave in, you gave up, head lolling back next to his loving lips that murmured sweet nothings.

“Not true, sweet girl,” he reminded you, flattening you on his cock and making you roll your hips while you slid up and down his pole sensually. Unlike the previous pace, the slow sensation of your pussy hugging his cock with your arousal letting him slide in easily allowed you to feel every part of him, almost mind-wrecking at how good he’s able to make you feel even after such a long time of having him already.

“You’re the sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, the best, the absolute blessing of my life, and I just want to protect you, sweet girl. You’re too precious for me to lose,” Satoru kept mumbling over and over again.

You could no longer process his words functionally, not when he’s slamming you down his length like that and burying himself in you as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Satoru’s hands were still curious, appreciative and gentle as he runs his hands, dipping into all your curves and pressing into your most sensitive spots the way you liked it.

“You’re always so good for me so no, sweet girl, never gonna let you go, not when you’re so perfect for me,” Satoru eased your worries – temporarily – with his words, and you’d believe his lie, you’d fall into the same mistakes over and over again because you were just that weak and powerless when it came to him. “You’re made just for me, sweet girl, you’re the prettiest and your pussy is the prettiest – I worship you, I adore you. You’re so divine.”

You blamed it all on your ego.

He praised you so well, made you feel so good and always placed you on top of the world when he’s inside you like this. Even if you knew he’d knock you down the pedestal just hours later, you opened your doors for him all over again.

Satoru knew this too, because he rammed inside your walls and ruined everything that you held firm beliefs in, his large hands smacking your ass to urge you to bounce on him like you weren’t made for any other purpose than to be the woman he adored.

You lied to yourself – you always did – but did you care? So what if you couldn’t be the one he really loved? What did it all matter when you were the one he worshipped?

For the sake of the praise and the compliments, you’d let him fuck you and play with your heart over and over again. It was a toxic routine you’d never get tired of, and you no longer complained, forgetting about everything he’d done and every heartbreak he caused you because he was there, whispering into your ears how good you made him feel and how you were the only one made to take him, and you didn’t care. Not anymore – not when you were worshipped.

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

[yoonpobs]

hello 😊

may I request a drabble with jungkook and seokjin and reader with some angst and a bit of smut.. seokjin is her boyfriend and jungkook is jin's best friend and also a close friend of hers his also in love with her and he doesn't hid the fact that he has feelings for her so when y/n and seokjin get into a fight he seeing it as an opportunity to finally see if she wants to be with him

I hope that makes sense

thank you ❤️

pairing: fwb!seokjin x oc, roommate!jungkook x oc

genre: smut, angst

warnings: toxic/unhealthy fwb relationships, jin is a douche, jk is mean, oc needs a break

words: 2, 775

note: WHY DO I ALWAYS GIVE MY OCS A HARD TIME IM SORRY & i took a bit of a turn w this request so i apologise for any inaccuracies 😢

There is a way that Seokjin treats you in bed that makes you feel whole yet like you’re losing bits and pieces of yourself to him every time. He’s never selfish—God no. He was generous to you, much more generous than real lovers you had in the past that you shared kisses that were full of passion between the sheets. The passion you felt with Seokjin was undeniable and almost painful. You hated the word almost, it was like wasted potential on a possibility that could’ve come true but fell too short to be real. And every time you thought of that word you thought of Seokjin.

He was there. He always was. That was the conflicting part. Between always and almost, he was always with you but never almost in love with you the way you were with him. It was pathetic, really. How a woman held such high regard for turned into someone unrecognisable between the sheets and a few kisses from a man who didn’t even love her back. You swore to yourself you’d never let this happen. But here it was—happening.

He fucks into you at a brutal pace that could almost cloud your stressful thoughts. He never misses, his hips angled upwards to hit you in places that only lovers should feel. You moan, scream and cry—for reasons more than how good he makes you feel.

“Ffffffuck, J-Jin!” Your head is pressed against the mattress but you can still see your delirious expression through the mirror in front of your bed. He looks angelic with the way his forehead scrunches in utmost concentration in making you feel good, but the way he snaps his hips harder into your own was demonic. He usually left bruises and it felt nice to have the remainder of what he did to you—but stung at the same time with the way that he marked you as if you were his.

You weren’t.

“Like that, angel?” He leans down to whisper against your cheek and all you can muster is the blubber of a response.

The grip on your hips is rough, but you like it that way. He slips a hand in between your spread legs and rubs your clit in figure-eights that has you whining at a decibel louder than the ones before. Jin notices this and starts fucking into you faster if that was even humanely possible.

“Look at you—so fucked out. You’re mine to ruin, right?”  He taunts you, dragging a hand up your body with the wetness as the answer to his question. He tugs on your chin to direct your face to look at your reflection clearly, and you see your lips swollen, eyes blown out and hair tousled.

“Y-Yes—fuck—yours, J-Jin!” You’re panting, and you feel your coil unravel at a rapid pace, and Jin groans from behind you when he feels your cunt spasm around his cock ferociously.

“If you’re mine then don’t cum just yet,” He sounds too collected for a man who’s been fucking his cock deep into you for the past hour, but you could never read Seokjin. Even when you had his dick all the way down your throat, the most you’d get is a groan—and that was more than you could ever muster up from him.

“Jin—Jin—p-ple-please! I need to—ah—cum—!” Your words were cut short when he reached his hand around your throat to squeeze it softly. But you moan louder, and your pussy responds by getting tighter around his cock.

He chuckles in a low timbre from behind you, hips slightly stuttering—and you know this is a sign of his release coming soon—and you push your hips back to meet his pace, causing him to hiss at the sudden action.

Jin stares at you from the mirror for the night, and you release he always has a similar expression when he’s approaching his high. Something cold, detached yet melancholic. You could never read him enough, because by the time you think you’ve got an answer—he demands.

“Cum.”

And you do. Hard. Spots of white taint your vision like an angel trying to cleanse you from your sins. But the way you blackout for a second shows you no mercy and reminds you that Jin was the devil and you were his plaything.

“Ffffffff—” You can barely breathe. But it’s a pleasurable feeling—the only thing suffocating is the aftermath. When he leaves, barely sparing you another glance.

And you feel him cum with you, deep spurts of white painting your pussy as you feel full of him. Like he’s here to stay. He pushes you back onto him and revels in your limp body. You allow him.

When he pulls out, you’re exhausted. And you can tell he is, too. He’s heaving, and he helps you onto your back by placing a pillow under your back and head. He’s caring, but only out of decency, not commitment. You’re tired too, but it’s the type of tired that settles into your bones. The tired you only feel after sex with Seokjin because you know you’re sleeping alone.

He’s meticulous and quick, just like he always is. It’s the same routine that you’re unfortunately intimate with. He searches for his pants, slips on his shirt and grabs his keys and wallet. They’re always on your desk; never anywhere else because that implies that the routine was breaking. Jin would never break that—not with you, at least.

“Won’t you stay?”

Your voice is soft as it breaks through the atmosphere. You seem to catch him off guard for a moment but he’s tedious at not showing anything more than he needs to. He casts you a glance over his shoulders and you feel oddly vulnerable with your naked body, a blanket draped over your curves in a way that should be enticing. But you knew it wasn’t—because he only wanted you in the heat of the moment and every second after that is a reminder of who you were.

“Since when did we do that?” He snorts, quickly carding a hand through his hair while he checks his appearance.

And as always, he looks kept together while you were left ruined at the expense of his hands.

“We don’t,” you say softly, “I just thought …” your voice wavers when he raises a brow at you, causing you to hesitate in your words but you’re oddly determined today. Maybe you’re tired of the heartache, “It’s late.”

He looks at you for a long second before rolling his eyes and stalking you. Your heart clenches in expectation, but all Jin does is reach a hand around your chin when he leans down to bring your face inches away from his. Your eyes are hopeful when you look into his. The gentle orbs that peer back could fool anyone into thinking that he was tender and loving—but you’ve never seen that side of him. You only saw him when he was overtaken by desire, hard and tall when he fucks into you like a rag doll while he smirks at your slacked body.

“That’s cute,” he grins widely as your breath hitches, “But that’s not what we do, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment is anything but endearing. It’s mocking and it hurts.

“I …” You croak.

Then he releases you, finger lightly pushing your chin so that you’d fall back onto your palms. He checks his phone with a casual grin, likely being called over to another party—or anywhere else that wasn’t your home. Your heart shatters all over again, but you’re used to it. The glass that scrapes your skin is stained with blood but you’re a sucker for the pain.

“I’ll call you,” is all that he leaves you with before he’s helping himself out of your room, leaving the door open in his way. He doesn’t care for formalities, not even when you see him bump into your roommate on the way out. He gives a wave of acknowledgement, but nothing else—because who would introduce their fuck-buddy to their roommate?

But Jungkook knew. Of course, he did. You weren’t subtly because you hoped if someone knew then it’d be a little more real for you to hold onto. That ugly seedling of hope that blooms in your chest every time Jungkook would catch a glimpse of Jin leaving your room makes you wonder what it’d feel like if you could have him over for dinners, for movie nights—for it all.

But you can only do that; wonder.

The door creaks ever so slightly and only do you realise that the tears return. You automatically know who it is, because it’s the same routine. It’s the same song that you hear each time he comes over and it’s on an unhealthy loop of replays when you feel your bed dip.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Jungkook whispers.

You don’t care that you’re bare. Jungkook’s seen you in worse states. Drunk off your mind, on the verge of collapse when you’d hope the alcohol would take the pain away. He’s a good roommate—but he really needs to mind his own business.

“Stop.”

“He’s a fucking asshole,” he sneers, grabbing your arm so that you’d look at him.

He hates that your eyes are red, and he hates that the bruises on your neck and chest match. The room smells heady of sex, and Jungkook has to endure the same pain you feel but tenfold when he watches your lips wobble the longer he stares.

“I love him, Jungkook.” You sob, leaning into his chest when he sighs for the umpteenth time, hearing the same thing leave your lips. It never got easier.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jungkook spits, the thought of Jin returning only making his fists ball tighter when they rest around your bare shoulders, “Stop this. Stop going back to him.”

“Why doesn’t he want me?” You cry, hot tears wetting the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt.

“Why do you want him?” Jungkook returns, voice raising when he pulls back.

His eyes are blazing, the anger in his chest is only exponentially increasing the more he sees you heave. The tears that leave your eyes makes his heart clench and makes him want to chase that son of a bitch down and make sure he’d never see you again. But Jungkook finds himself staying still because you were here. In his arms—even if it you weren’t his.

But he’s still angry, and his mouth runs hotter than ever.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself, huh?” Jungkook grabs your shoulders, forcing you to stare at him with swollen eyes, “You know he’s just using you! All he does is fuck you and leave. He doesn’t love you—and he will never love you so stop doing this to yourself and leave him before you continue hurting yourself like this!”

“Fuck you,” you spit through the tears.

“Because I’m telling you the truth?” He sneers, “Because I’m telling you things that you already know but are too damn scared to do?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook!” You scream, pushing at his chest. But he grabs your wrist and levels you with a menacing stare while his own chest rises and falls with every breath of air he takes.

Your anger is muffled by your tears, and it’s a mixture of pain and rage when you peer at him. Jungkook’s so tired. He’s tired of feeling this way—of seeing you destroy yourself when you deserved more than anything anyone could ever offer.

“No,” Jungkook deadpans, “You’re going to listen to me and you’re doing this now.”

“I’m not doing anything! So let—me—go—!” You thrash in his hold, but Jungkook only tightens his grip around your wrists in a warning.

“Delete his number.”

“I can’t do that,” you say weakly.

“You can and you fucking will,” Jungkook says vehemently.

And as a point, he reaches for your phone that rests on your nightstand; and before you can process what he’s doing—he’s thumbing through your contacts and hovering over the one person you always seem to go back to.

“Jungkook, no—!”

But the damage is done, and Jungkook presses delete. For some reason, you feel absolutely nothing. But you’re angry, you’re angry because Jungkook’s always the person you see when it hurts the most and even through his words—all you want to do is scream.

“I hate you so much!” You scream.

Jungkook chuckles, dark and humourless as he runs his fingers through his hair. He stares to the side, jaw clenching in annoyance when you continue to cry and sob. He wanted to tell you to shut up—to stop crying over someone who’s probably already fucking the next breathing thing in his direction. But he doesn’t, because Jungkook’s impulsive. More so than he’d like.

“Yeah?” Jungkook scoffs, “You hate me? The person who’s trying his best to protect you?”

“You’re not protecting me!” You snap.

He ignores your indignant tone before levelling you with a blank stare that intimidates you more than you’ve ever been of Jungkook. He’s fuming, but it’s a calm before the storm that rattles your heartbeat against your chest. He looks livid.

“You hate me and love that fucking idiot?” He snarls, inching closer as you back away.

The growl in Jungkook’s chest is unheard of because more often than not he was level-headed. An annoying prick but calm and collected at most. This is the first time you’ve seen Jungkook look anything less than composed—and it was because of you.

“I can’t—I can’t control my feelings,” you say sourly.

He snorts, fully sarcastic and intentionally mocking when he looks at you with a hooded gaze.

“Isn’t that the fucking truth.”

“What the hell are you saying,” you narrow your eyes at him.

Oddly, you’re having this conversation when your tits are out—and only then do you consciously wrap your arms around your chest. His eyes immediately dart down to your subtle action and he rolls his eyes. You want to cuss him out, but Jungkook laughs. He laughs as if there was something funny—and you’re left even more confused.

“I’m saying that I fucking hate you,” he spits, face inching immensely closer as your eyes widen at his venomous tone.

“What—?”

“I hate you so much because you’re acting like an idiot chasing after someone who doesn’t give two shits about you.”

Your eyes well up with more tears as his words of bullets ricochet off your ears and settling deep in your heart. The harsh reminder makes your lips wobble and shoulders shake, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

“I hate you because you do this to yourself when you deserve so much more than what that prick can offer,” Jungkook says vehemently, hand wrapping around your chin to force your face to look at him.

Even now, when your eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, you look devastatingly beautiful.

“I hate you because I’ve been here this entire time and all you do is look for him,” Jungkook says softly, but his tone is still harsh, a sharp breath that erupts in his chest as well as yours as your eyes widen.

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve been here,” he croaks, and when you look into his eyes only do you see the pain, “I hate you so much because all I can do is love you.”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him, and you’re taking seconds too long to respond but your brain is processing the turn in events. But when you realise what he says, Jungkook’s pulling away. His hands retract themselves as if he’s been burnt and you were the flame responsible for it.

“Jungkook, wait—” you reach out. You were so confused, but you didn’t like the fact that he was leaving too.

“Don’t,” his eyes flutter shut in defeat, lips pursed, “Don’t touch me right now.”

Your face crumbles as you tug the blanket around your body until you’re resting on your knees and searching for his face.

“Can we talk—?”

“No,” he glares at you, and somehow—the look he gives you is far more painful than every moment Jin has ever walked out on you. Jungkook delivers the final blow when he snatches his hand away from yours completely.

“Figure your shit out because I’m done.”

And like always, you were left alone in your room—with more to think about than ever.

[qianinterprises]

WayV Reaction: to you flirting with their younger sibling

Pairing(s): WayV x Reader

Genre: crack, fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Notes: Hello anon! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request! I really hope I interpreted your request accurately! And thank you! I'm so glad you like my content! (I also want to mention that I used younger brother for all of them because I thought the request said brother until I went back and looked. Then I didn't want to change everything I'd just written so I just went with it. I'm sorry).

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon

Kun:

Shortly after Kun was announced to be joining NCT in 2018, he also found out that his mother was expecting a second child, which, naturally, came as quite a shock. He was already an adult. Had his mother decided on more children when he was younger, a teenager even, he wouldn't have even batted an eye! But his little brother or sister would be 22 years younger. That was just weird.

However, that didn't stop Kun from nervously sitting in the waiting room holding your hand the day his little brother was born, vowing to always protect the sweet little bundle of joy.

It was that promise that led to where you both were now, Kun holding his babbling three year old brother in his arms as the boy waved to his retreating mother.

"I'll pick him up tomorrow morning," she called over her shoulder as the door closed behind her.

"So what do you want to do now?" Kun asked, looking between you and the little boy squirming in his arms.

"I wanna dance with (y/n)!" the little boy declared, wiggling out of Kun's hold and reaching for you.

Laughing, you took hold of the boys hands and led him into the center of the room, sending Kun a wide grin as he played music on his phone.

"It would be an honor to dance with you kind sir," you responded in an overly posh voice, taking his smaller hands in yours and spinning around the living room.

He let out a giggle as you spun him around before picking him up in your arms and swaying to the new, now reasonably slow song.

"You're an even better dancer than your brother!" you cooed.

The boy beamed at you.

"Hey!" Kun argued, biting back a laugh as you turned to look at him.

"You can't go stealing my significant other away from me!" Kun said, playfully glaring at the young boy in his arms.

Said boy, seeming to take his confidence from to much time spent with Ten, leaned up and pressed a kiss to your cheek, smirking at his brother.

"Wait for me to get older!" he said before squirming out of your hold.

"I'll wait forever, my prince," you laughed, placing him on the floor, watching him run over to YangYang, who had just entered the room. The maknae leaning down to scoop the boy up, disappearing back into his own room.

Kun stood up from his place on the couch and placed a kiss to your cheek.

"He really likes you," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You just smiled, resting your head on his shoulder as his hips suddenly began to sway to the music still playing, coaxing you to follow his lead as he danced you around the living room.

"I'm a much better dancer," he whispered.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in response.

Ten

The whole world knew that Ten had a younger sister. She was never hidden away, taking her camera confidence from her older brother as she took the newfound attention that came with her celebrity brother in stride. What the world didn't know, however, was that Ten also had a younger brother, one year younger than his sister. A brother that was extremely shy, choosing to hide behind his older sister rather than face the limelight.

Both had been over to visit the dorm countless times, though Ten's sister could only visit when Yukhei wasn't in the dorm after the large man had gotten slightly drunk and stupidly confessed to finding his ge's sister incredibly hot. His brother, on the other hand, was always welcomed and often found himself visiting once every few months for a week when WayV had a little less packed schedules.

You and Ten had picked the younger boy up from the airport two days prior and he'd been laughing and goofing off with the other members (especially Sicheng, to Ten's surprise). Today, however, the younger boy had been surprising glued to your side, always offering to get you a drink or a snack or share a blanket with you, which only made the older boys grow smirks as they not so subtly teased the boy.

"I think he likes you," Ten muttered, eying the boy retreating to the kitchen to grab a water.

You nodded, leaning against your boyfriend and desperately trying to surpress your giggle, not wanting the boy to feel awkward or bullied.

"I don't like it."

You slapped Ten's chest softly.

"Let him be, it's puppy love!" you cooed.

"Puppy love or whatever. You're mine."

You rolled your eyes at the older boys antics and gave his brother a soft smile upon his return, taking the water he offered you.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You're so nice!" you grinned, reaching up to lightly ruffle the boys hair.

Pink dusted his cheeks and he looked down, but he couldn't had his growing smile.

Ten gently elbowed you in the side and pulled you closer to hiss in your ear.

"Flirt with him again and I'll make sure he hears you screaming my name later," he hissed in your ear.

"Come on Ten! He's your brother for goodness sake! It's not like he's going to ask me out. It's harmless!" you argued back.

Ten let out a grumble and turned back to the television, tugging you closer slightly.

"You're going to be the death of me," he grumbled.

WinWin

The day Sicheng found out that he had a half brother on his father's side, he didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he ecstatic. He'd always wanted a younger brother. On the other, what was he supposed to do with this information. His estranged father had never had any intention on telling him that he had a brother, so why now.

It seemed the answer was easy enough to figure out as the eight year old boy was suddenly dropped off at the dorm after Sicheng had been blindsided to watch the male while his father and his step-mother went on a seven day cruise.

While Kun had promised that it was fine, Sicheng knew the leader would rather do other things than help Sicheng take care of an eight year old on their only week off, so Sicheng had called you to come help, promising that he'd take you out for a fancy dinner if you helped him babysit for the week.

You didn't need promises to spend time with your boyfriend, even if it was babysitting.

When you entered the dorm, the first thing you noticed was Sicheng's younger brother playing game with Kunhang on the living room television, and from the looks of it, the eight year old was killing it.

"I win again!" the little boy declared as Kunhang gaped at the television.

"I- how-" he muttered.

"You must be really good to beat Kunhang!" you piped up, sending the younger male a teasing smile.

To the new voice, the eight year old looked up and the controller dropped from his hands.

"Your hot," he declared matter-of-factly.

Your eyes widened. You certainly hadn't been expected that, but a small laugh bubbled from your lips.

"Your not so bad yourself," you retorted with a wink.

"Are you flirting with my brother?!" Sicheng asked, voice sounding scandalized as he approached the two of you, holding a small cup filled with fruit punch for the young boy.

"How can I not when his looks rival his brothers." you responded, sending a wink to the young boy before pressing a kiss to Sicheng's cheek.

The boy had red rising to his cheeks and he took a sip on punch to distract himself as he awkwardly toed at the floor. Kunhang let out a boisterous laugh from his place on the couch.

"This is so weird and so comically!"

"Bet I can beat you again even with this hot person sitting beside me! They'll give me good luck!" the boy decreed, hoping up onto the couch beside the other member.

"Don't call my signifiant other hot!" Sicheng whined.

You gave Sicheng another peck to the cheek and leaned against him.

"Let him have his fun," you muttered, reaching down to grab Sicheng's hand in yours.

Lucas

Yukhei and his younger brother had always been somewhat close. They spoke on a regular basis and his brother had certainly spent time at the dorms, but he was also a busy person.

Unlike Yukhei, who had given up taking over his fathers company to be an idol, his brother was being groomed by their father to be the next CEO of said company, which meant that the boy didn't come around a whole hell of a lot. Which also played into the reason why he'd never meant his brothers significant other. That is, until you opened the door to the dorm while Yukhei was being scolded by Kun for letting Bella pee in the house again.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eying the tall man.

Right away, you knew this person had to be related to Yukhei in some way. They two were practically identical. This man might just be a little shorter and not quite as stocky.

"I believe it is I who can help YOU, beautiful," he said.

Immediately, your cheeks heated up from the awkwardness. Clearly this man had no clue that you were sleeping with his brother. Or maybe he did and he just didn't care.

"I uh... come in... handsome..." you mumbled back awkwardly, having no clue how one should respond to such a greeting.

"So are you their maid or something? Because if you come work for me, I guarantee I can treat you better."

This guy was shameless!

"Uh... the others are this way... But I'm not a maid so..."

He followed behind you into the dorm and you could practically feel his eyes on your ass. You didn't think you liked Yukhei's brother very much.

"Come on babe, I know you're a shy little mouse, but give me something to work with here! Aren't you at all interested!"

"Well... you are handsome. As handsome as your brother but-"

"My brothers got a girlfriend! If you like him, surely you'll like me! Come on, one date!"

"I-I"

"Yeah her boyfriend doesn't really want her going on a date with her boyfriends little brother," Yukhei said, swooping in and draping an arm around your shoulders.

You felt yourself relax into his side, especially as the male in front of you realized the error of his ways.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry! I don't know why I just assumed you were single! Can we start over!" the male requested, getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness.

Ok, maybe this guy wasn't so bad.

"Get up you idiot. You're acting like you've never met a girl before!"

At that, a loud laugh erupted from your lips, making them both look at you.

"It's really ok! You didn't know! Just don't do it again," you laughed.

Xiaojun

The thought of Dejun having a younger sibling was something that had never crossed his mind, especially when he'd turned 16. He just never considered his parents would want to have more children until his mother informed him that she was, in fact, pregnant once again. Six years later, he didn't get to spend much time with his baby brother, but when he did, he tended to make the most of it. So when his mother offered to let Dejun babysit for the afternoon while she did some shopping, he couldn't have been happier. Especially because you'd finally get to meet the little boy.

When he was dropped off, you were blown away by the cute little boy that you immediately pulled him from Dejun's arms, cuddling him to your side.

"You are the most precious thing I've ever seen!" you cooed.

The boy cuddled against your side and placed a kiss on your cheek, one that had you beaming.

"You're so handsome! When you get older, you're going to have all the heads turning, just like your big brother!"

The boy giggled at that and wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you tightly.

"Can I date you too when I get older?" he asked.

Dejun scoffed in the back of his throat, but you could see the fond smile on his face.

"Why of course you can! Unless you already have a partner!" you beamed, ruffling the boys hair.

At that, Dejun crossed his arms over his chest and stared at you with a pout.

"I don't wanna share," he whined.

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a small little laugh as you pressed a kiss to his little brother's forehead and patted his back, sending him off to Kun, who promised to make the younger boy ramen for lunch.

"Are you seriously jealous of your little brother?"

"You shouldn't flirt with other guys," he whined.

You cooed at the male and leaned in close to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"You're the only one for me baby," you promised, laughing as you overheard the younger boy requesting that Kun make you a bowl as well.

"He's getting too attached," Dejun mumbled.

You kissed his lips again and took hold of his hand.

"I'm yours babe, and nothing is going to change that," you promised.

Hendery

Kunhang thought his parents must really like having children. And, to be fair, his childhood had been a pretty happy one. However, he was the youngest of four and the only boy. He was the baby and it showed. He was constantly being doted on by his parents and even his sisters who, at one point, would dress him up in make-up and make him pretend to be their fourth sister.

However, all of that changed when Hendery was 10 and news of his mothers pregnancy reached his unwitting ears. He had been angry. Angry because his youngest sister had told him "horror stories" of what it was like for her when he was born. He wasn't exactly ready. However, when his brother was born, he had a friend. Even if said friend was 10 years younger.

Now, a twelve year old boy sat perched on the couch between Kunhang and Ten, eyes glued to the television as they watched Harry Potter for the thousandth time.

"Does anyone want anything to eat? I'm going to make a sandwich," you called.

When no one responded, you set to the kitchen to put your own sandwich together when a figure suddenly appeared behind you.

"I bet your sandwiches are delicious! Could you make me one?" he asked.

You glanced back to give him a wide grin.

"Sure thing honey bunches! What would you like on it?"

He listed off everything he wanted on the sandwich and you set to work assembling it for him. You sliced the sandwich in half triangle style the way you usually ate your sandwiches and gave him a wide smile.

He sat down at the island and took a large bite, humming a little over-exaggeratedly at the flavor.

"It's so good!" he said.

You laughed and ruffled his hair before opening the fridge and handing him a 12 ounce bottle of coke.

"Only the best for you! Gotta keep those muscles growing if your gonna play spots when you get older!"

"Mom says I'm made for the soccer field! She wants me to try out to be a professional player! But I want to be an idol like Kunhang!"

What he said surprised you. Kunhang hadn't told you his little brother had interest in joining the entertainment industry.

"I'm sure you'd be great at it!" you encouraged.

"Do you think I'd fit in with NCT?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? You'd put them all to shame with your looks and talent! No one could beat you!"

"What are we talking about?" Kunhang asked, moving up behind you and wrapping an around around your waist.

You picked up half of your sandwich off your plate and offered it to him, to which he took a bite straight from your hand.

"He's interested in joining the entertainment industry!" you beamed.

Kunhang looked over at him, eyebrow raised.

"Ok, but stay away from my partner with those good looks and talent that could put us all to shame," he mocked, kissing your temple before plopping down beside you.

YangYang

YangYang was born five minutes earlier than his identical twin brother, which he had kept a secret from the prying eyes of the fans. His brother, while sharing his same facial features and eyes, was very different from YangYang.

His twin was more introverted and, unlike YangYang, had 0 interest becoming an idol. Rather, he wanted to become a veterinarian to go along with his love of animals. So, when YangYang went away to train, his brother was taking medical classes and it just never made sense for either of them to mention each other, specifically because YangYang's twin didn't care much for access media attention.

The members, however, were very aware of YangYang's twin, although they'd found out the hard way when his brother had come to visit and Sicheng had accidentally yelled at him to get his "damn shoes out of the hallway."

It had been hysterical when it was all said and done and his twin had quickly bonded with the older boys, letting them pull him out of his shell to find the energetic boy that liked to compete with YangYang on everything.

While you knew that YangYang had a twin brother, and that they were identical, the thoughts didn't cross your mind as you showed up at the dorm to spend time with YangYang. When Dejun opened the door, he informed you that YangYang was finishing up a shower and would be out soon, directing you to his bedroom.

When you walked in, however, you found "YangYang" sitting on his bed playing a game on his phone. Assuming he'd gotten out of the shower before Dejun had realized, you thought nothing of it and sauntered over to the boy, taking his phone out of his hands and plopping down on his lap.

"I missed you," you said, leaning back against him, letting your head rest against his collar bone.

"I um..." the boy stammered.

You'd never known YangYang to get flustered, but chopped it up to the members being in the dorm.

"What's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue?" you cooed, sending him a mischievous wink as you purposefully wiggled your bum on his lap.

"I-I"

"What the hell is going on?!" a very familiar voice tore through your reverie and your eyes shot up to the door where... YangYang stood, towel wrapped around his waist, another drying his hair.

"YangYang?!" you gaped, jumping off the lap you were sitting on. "But who?!" you turned back to the man on the bed and then it dawned on you.

YangYang had mentioned earlier in the week that you should come by to meet his twin brother. Somehow, that had slipped your mind and now...

"Oh my God!! I am so sorry!" you screeched, voice going up an octave as your cheek flushed a bright red.

The boys shared a look before both burst out laughing, doubling over with hilarity as your cheeks burned.

"This has got to be the best mix up I've ever seen!" the real YangYang cackled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

[drakenology]

Yeah, My Boyfriend’s In A Band

guitarist!todoroki x fem!reader

summary: something straight outta wattpad! you go to a rock band’s concert and stand front row of the stage. The band’s vocalist /guitarist catches your eye and.. well, the rest is history! this is the story of how you first met.

author’s note: soooo.. how yall been? i kinda said fuck it to the schedule i made. why force myself to make content when I just can’t ya know? I’d much rather upload content when it’s at it’s best. so enjoy! I used some lyrics from some of my favorite rock songs for this, can you guess em? Also the art work above isn’t mine!

warnings: smut (duh.), drug use (weed), size kink, pinch of daddy kink, spitting, degradation

It was a hot Saturday night. You were all dressed up and excited to see your favorite heavy metal band the Diaspora play in your city. You were a huge fan, their posters adorned your bedroom walls. You’ve been a fan since they first came out as a cover band.

The members were all pretty fuckin cute, especially the band’s front man. Todoroki Shoto.

He was so handsome; black and red half and half hair, grey sullen eyes, the sexy scar on the left side of his face only adding to the edginess of his visage. His tattoos coated his left arm in a sleeve, his eyebrow pierced as well as his lower lip. He was fucking hot. Obviously not the kind of guy who would pay any attention to you right?

You threw on the Diaspora t-shirt you bought just weeks before the show and tied it in the back so it could be a little cropped and called your uber, frantically spraying perfume in a panic that you were going to be late to the concert. You ran outside, saying goodnight to your roommate as you rush out the door and jump into the car.

“Hey. I’m Shoto Todoroki and I’m the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Diaspora. Hope to see you guys at the show tonight at 8.” You hear as smoothe and sultry voice play over the radio.

You swoon and text some buddies who were also going to the show in excitement, the rush going straight to your brain in a haze as you blast some of their music in your headphones.

When you arrive to the stadium, you spot your best friend from highschool Nejire Hado. You two actually grew up together and even graduated together. It was like you two were sisters, inseparable since birth. Nejire saw you and waved excitedly, squealing with glee and motioned you to come to her spot in line.

“Y/N!!!! Over here!!” She yelled, causing you to run over and jump up and down with her.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” You say.

“Me either! Hey, did you hear? There’s rumor’s going around that their having an after party after the show! We have to go, Y/N please say yes.” Nejire rambled, clapping her hands with an inability to contain her excitement.

You look down at your shoes, unsure at first. What if you aren’t even allowed inside? It could be VIP only.

“Fuck it. Let’s go!” You say, causing Nejire to scream and laugh with joy.

Suddenly, the band’s security comes outside to greet the fans waiting to come inside for the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enter in a single fil-“ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence before hundreds of eager fans rush past him and squeeze into the stadium doors, running as fast as the could to get to their seats.

Luckily for you and Nejire, you had front row tickets. Those days of refreshing the page for them as they sold out every second really paid off. You grab Nejire’s hand and run inside, elbowing and clawing your way through to your spot with your best friend by your side. The lights suddenly go dim and the crowd goes insane.

The show’s about to start. You heart seemed to float up into your throat as you stood sweating and nervous, Nejire screaming her head off and jumping up and down when the band came rising up from the bottom of the stage. Smoke covers them for a while until it clears and all you see is Todoroki standing above you, the real him finally being exposed to you as you gaze from the crowd.

He was even more handsome in person. Tonight he wore black jeans and a white band tank top ,showing off his muscular and tattooed arms. Chains hung on his hip and his boots as he propped his foot up on the amplifier in front of him.

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He screamed into the mic, causing the crowd to scream impossibly louder. He smirked, causing you to feel woozy just seeing him look so smug, as if he knew the effects he had on his fans.

You could’ve died right there a happy woman as the band started to play their hit single, the gritty sound of the electric guitar sending chills up your spine as you and Nejire headbang and dance to the music. You sing along to the top of your lungs, watching as Todoroki owned the stage. You gaze up at him again to see something completely and utterly unbelievable.

He was looking right at you.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you lock eyes with him. Shoto kneeled down towards you and reached his hand out to you. You almost scream and grab his tattooed hand with both of your own and smile at him, keeping your eyes focused on his. Shoto took your hand and kissed it as he sang a pretty racy part of his song to you,

“I wanna take you home.” (sleeping with sirens fans?? your nickle aint worth my dime???? NO?)

Oh. My. God

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y/N, HE-“ Nejire screamed, just as excited as you. You stood there shocked and flustered, staring into space. Todoroki fucking Shoto just kissed your hand. Shoto smirked and let your hand go, continuing the rest of his show in hopes you got the message. He wanted you. It was common sense that you go to the afterparty now.

The show continued for another 2 hours, Todoroki now dripping in sweat from the hot lights shining upon him and his band.

“Thank you all so much for coming out. For those invited, I’ll see you all at the afterparty! Goodnight everyone!” Todoroki bellowed to the crowd, causing them to cheer him and the band off the stage.

You stand there, high off of every guitar riff and belt from the performance feeling sad that the concert was over. But a rush of hope filled your heart in knowing that you were going to see Shoto again soon. You and Nejire walk out of the stadium hand in hand as you discussed the plan to get to the party.

“So the party is not too far from here, exactly 15 minutes away. We could totally call an uber.” Nejire explains, saying that it’s going to be held in Todoroki’s mansion.

When you both arrive at Todoroki’s Mansion your jaws drop. A huge fountain greeted your uber driver’s car, cobblestone driveways leading you towards his front door. There were hedge sculptures all over the front yard and expensive cars adorned the driveway as you and Nejire step out of the car to see the line to get into the party. Damn. More lines.

You approach the security guard; the same one from earlier that night with a nervous wave.

“U-Um excuse me sir, we’re on the list..” You said unconfidently. Nejire nervous laughed and nudged you for sounding so unsure after giving you a long confidence pep-talk in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m not seein’ an ‘Y/N’ or a ‘Nejire’. Back o’ the line, ladies.” The security guard huffed, hardly even looking at his list.

“Nah it’s cool, Ben. Let them in.” You hear a familiar voice utter before you get the chance to turn around and walk to the back of the line. Sure enough it was Todoroki standing there, joint lit and eyes hazy. Clearly stoned.

It was like he got more gorgeous as you got closer to him, your cheeks heating up as you realize you’re literally standing in front of your fucking celebrity crush. Nejire squeals and runs inside to go find the drummer and get his number, she says drummers do it harder.

Shoto took you by the hand and led you inside the rager in his foyer. The smell of beer and weed absorbs your nostrils as you walk inside with Shoto in hand, watching as Nejire talks up the drummer with ease as if she already knew him from way back when.

Todoroki sat down on the most comfortable couch you have ever sat in with you next to him, taking a big drag of his joint and motioning it towards you.

“Wanna hit? It’s not laced. Promise.” He said cooly, slowly blowing out the smoke. You take it and take a hit, coughing a little as you puff out the smoke.

Damn this must be what rich people smoke.

“Good huh? Grew it myself. Heh.” Todoroki laughed a little as he watched you take another hit.

“Shit. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, finally.” You say, nervousness coating your tongue. Shoto gave you a warm smile, his hazy eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the room.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Shoto said, kissing the same hand he did at the concert.

You heat up, your panties becoming slightly wet at him touching and kissing you. He smirked and grabbed you by your chin to make sure you look him directly into his grey orbs.

“When I saw you in the crowd, I almost couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He said into your ear, causing your mind to block out any outside sound that wasn’t his voice. You gulp, blinking dumbly as you try to find the words to say something.

“I-I, um. Th-thank you.” You say, looking down into his lap. Shoto pulled away to smoke his joint a little more. You two talked all night, everyone around you both becoming irrelevant as you seemingly grow closer together.

Strangely, none of the rumors about Todoroki were true. He wasn’t this stuck up asshole the media made him out to be. He was calm and gentle, the sweetest guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with. You learned so much about him that night. He was so misunderstood.

You’re high now and completely hazy as you and Todoroki make out on the couch. You’re not sure how you two even got to this point but you loved it. One thing led to another and now you were straddling him on the couch, his hands in your back pockets as he groped and squeezed your ass.

Your lips mingled as you moan into the kiss, Todoroki’s tongue slipping into your mouth to make home of it. The kiss got so hot your pussy was sopping wet underneath your jeans as you mindlessly grind against him for some kind friction.

Todoroki pulled away and started kissing your neck, damn near ripping your clothes off in front of the entire party. You’re gasping and grabbing at his clothes, forgetting where you are as you become desperate for him. You wanted him so bad and you knew he wanted you too.

“Wanna get out of here? Go upstairs I mean.” Shoto asked, huffing into the skin of your neck as his hard dick poked at your thigh.

“God yes.” You say breathily. As soon as he got your consent he carried you upstairs, the party raising their glasses and their blunts in celebration for Todoroki getting some.

“YES! Y/N tell me everything okay!?” Nejire yelled drunkenly, pulling away from her makeout session with the band’s drummer. You giggle and wave down at her, Todoroki laughing softly as he watched the interaction between you and your best friend.

“Just so you know, princess. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Shoto said, pinning you against the hallway wall.

“I don’t want you to.” You mewl, leaning into his neck to nip at it. Shoto let out a low chuckle and nearly kicked down his bedroom door, tossing you onto his luxurious california king bed.

You take a quick look around his darkly colored room, black walls with coordinating grey funiture. Posters of his inspiration adorned his walls, almost similar to your room just $100,000 richer. He had a mirror above his bed as you look up at your reflection you see Todoroki crawl on top of you, unbuttoning and pulling your jeans off in one fell swoop.

You’re immediately embarrassed, forgetting it was laundry day at home so you threw a thong on because you didn’t have anything else to wear. It was black and lacy and oh so skimpy you quickly move your hands to cover up in shame, Shoto grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands above your head.

“Heh. How’d you know I love lace?” Shoto teased, practically salivating at the sight of your smooth legs beneath him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shoto said, running his hands along your sides as if he was a lion playing with his prey before he ate it.

You bit your lip, dripping and hungry for some kind of touch in the places you needed him most, your nipples prodding at the thin fabric of your band tee. Yeah, you forgot to wear a bra. Shoto pulled your shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere and hissing at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra either? Man.. it must be my birthday. I’m gonna have fun with you, princess.” Todoroki says taking a nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he suckled gently following with short lick causing your entire body to catch flame.

You start moaning miserably, your whole body begging him to take you. Shoto pulls away from your nipple with a light pull of his lips and slips his hand down to your slit, caressing it agonizingly slow to tease you. He takes his other hand and presses his thumb to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” He rasped. And you did, sucking on his thumb as he rested it on your tongue making Shoto moan at the sight, humming a ‘good girl’ under his breath. Shoto held your mouth open and spit, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he plunged his thick digits into your needy hole.

You arch your back off the bed, biting down onto Shoto’s lip as he finger fucked you without mercy. Your moans filled the air, Shoto watching you intently as he took your breast into his mouth once more.

“Sho- ah! I-I’m gonna-“ You bellow, trying to hold onto something for dear life as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“That’s daddy to you, princess. Try again and maybe I’ll let you cum around my fingers.” Shoto hissed, slowing his pumping fingers a bit to ensure you got the point.

He was in control. You pant, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath only for it to get caught in your throat again. Desperate moans fall out of your mouth as you beg him to let you cum.

“D-Daddy!~” You gasp, Shoto leaning into your neck, his ear right next your mouth as you scream for him. You collapse into his arms, fucked out and stupid off Todoroki’s strong fingers. All those years of guitar weren’t for nothing.

“That’s it baby.. fuck, you made a mess.” Shoto cooed, slowly dragging his fingers out of you as he watched your slick stick to him sloppily. At this point, he’s so hard you can clearly see the veins in his dick jumping out of his pants, his size making you wince in pain before he even entered you.

“Think you can take all of me, princess?” Shoto asked, throwing his contricting pants and boxers somewhere across the room, releasing his impressive size for you to see. You gulp but nod, licking your lips at the sight of him.

Shoto smirked at your reaction and pumped himself a few times before teasingly tapping the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to yelp from the sensitivity of your abused core.

“Pleaseee.” You whine, Shoto grabbing you by the neck and choking you almost to tell you to shut up and be patient. He wastes no time in plunging into you, the thickness of his dick stretching your walls with a delicious sting.

You claw at his back as he bottomed out, gasping sharply as he filled you completely.

“Am I hurting you?” Todoroki asked with what little sympathy he had left in his body. You shook your head no, moaning as he stayed still inside you.

“P-P-Please move..” you mewl, chewing your bottom lip. Shoto smirked and began rutting his hips into yours at a rough pace, not really caring if you adjusted to him or not. Hard slaps and the sound of your whiny moans filled the room as the headboard of his bed slammed against the wall, probably alerting the entire party downstairs.

You’re screaming now, a moaning mess beneath him as he split you wide open. As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Shoto throws your legs over his shoulder and starts pounding into you.

He’s going to make sure you’re unable to walk straight for the rest of the week, marking you as his.

“Fuckkk, daddy. S-Slow down.” You pleaded only for Shoto to ignore you and continue his pace, laughing at the shocked and fucked out face you were pulling.

“Told you I wasn’t taking it easy on you. Did you forget already, princess?” Shoto breathed, moving his hands to rub shallow circles into your clit.

Your toes curled up tightly as your orgasm ripped through your body, your moans reaching a cresendo as your scream Shoto’s name.

He hissed as your walls fluttered around him, your pussy gripping him tightly as he fucked into you continuosly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was through with you just because I made you cum. I’m not done yet, doll.” Shoto muttered through your pathetic whines for him to slow down.

He cooed praises at you, a “good girl” here and a “you take my dick so well” there until his thrusts got rusty and sloppy; a sign he was close to cumming.

“Shittt, where do you want me to-“

“I-Inside m-mee! Fuck, cum inside me!” You shriek. And so he did, fucking his hot stickiness into you for a while as you both moan and pant. Shoto rode out your climaxes for a while before slowly pulling himself out as he watched his cum ooze out of your abused pussy.

As Shoto flopped on the bed next to you, you both stare up at the mirror on his ceiling. You’re both sweaty and your hair was a fucking mess from being tossed around the bed for what seemed like hours.

“Shit. Probably late as fuck by now. You wanna stay the night?” Shoto asked, taking your hand and famously kissing it once more. You smile and nod, unable to form coherent sentences as you feel yourself doze off.

Todoroki jumps from his bed and opened the door, screaming from the top of the stairs, “Oi! All you motherfuckers can fuck off home!Party’s over!” You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

“Don’t be so mean, Sho. Uh.. C-Can I call you Sho?” You ask embarrassed.

“You keep fucking me like that you can call me whatever you want, angel.” Shoto groans, grabbing you by your face and kissing you sweetly.

“Honestly, I wanna go again. You down?”

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[emperor-palpaminty]

The Singer

@chaoticvampirejedi CAME UP WITH LIKE A 1920S AU AND I WANT TO BE A SINGER IN A SWANKY BAR AND HUNTER TO BE MY HOT MAFIA BOSS BABE OKAY, THANK YOU

Feminine reader, mentions of drinking and catcalling because you're a sexy singer on a stage, also Hunter is possessive and I am sorry but I am a simple girl with simple brain 😔 Cool, the gif just matches the aesthetic, but reader is not described in any particular way, I apologize, we need more inclusive vintage gifs

Also yes Crosshair's name is Harry Cross, why do you ask

The bar was thick with whiskey and cigar smoke, puffing around each of the tables like snakes, trying to sneak its way out of the door. Hunter personally didn't smoke- his kid, his 'omega' as the guys dubbed her, didn't like it, the smoke. It made her cough.

Hunter sat back, taking a sip of the whiskey that smoothed down his throat like fire, a slow dredge of pleasant heat.

"Good selection," Harry Cross sat down, lighting a cigarette. Hunter have a brief scowl at the sharpshooter, but Cross either didn't see it or ignored it. "Quite the crowd tonight, Boss."

Hunter chuckled, shrugging, swatting at the stench of nicotine. "Yeah, so I hear. Tech did some recon on the place. He's doing a once over, too- the crowd's pretty big."

"Can you blame them?" Cross leaned back in his chair, tapping the ash of the cigarette onto the tray. "The drinks are overflowing, the service is absolutely top-tier, and not to mention." Cross took an especially long drag of the cigarette. He puffed out the smoke, slow and long, and his eyes moved over the crowd from their table in the back. "Tonight's Friday night."

Hunter grunted. "What's special about Friday?"

"Drinks are on sale. And the singer's on tonight." Cross only chuckled, waving his fingers lazily at a waiter. "Gin and tonic."

Hunter's brow furrowed slightly but he said nothing, nodding politely at the waiter, who returned the gesture and kept walking, the tapping of his shoes drowned out in the chatter of the tables and the smooth jazz of the band. “The singer?”

‘So many questions.”

“Yeah. I have questions.”

“You should have asked them before you purchased the bar.”

Hunter glared again, eyes slipping back towards the crowd, skimming the audience. Conversation hung over them like the heavy cigar smoke. "The profit of this place is too good. Doesn't matter why." He shook the glass, the remaining liquid sloshing. 

Cross laughed again, thin shoulders heaving under his coat. "Whatever you say, boss."

Hunter only hummed and leaned on the table as the lights dimmed, a light blinking awake on the stage. The band halted, and Hunter's eyes drifted as the curtains, in their theatrical manner, parted.

A woman moved forward, dress swaying in ethereal manner, and her hands parted.

Hunter's eyes landed on her and stayed- he didn't dare move them unless she disappear, even as the band played. Hunter never cared much for music until she opened her mouth and words rang out, loud and broad and massive and airy. And it was everything music never had been for him, and suddenly Hunter was undone, unraveled, by the exsistance of this voice.

"Cross," He rasped, leaning forward on the table. "Who is that?"

"The singer." Cross stubbed the cigarette on the ashtray, sniffing it with a soft hiss. He shrugged. "Not bad, is she?"

Hunter felt his jaw rotate as she sung her heart out, voice pulling from her throat like a bird that had been released from its cage for the first time. "Find her name," He mumbled. "Give me any information you can find on her- if she has debts, they're mine. Anyone that wants any harm on her, send 'em to me."

"Already?" Cross chuckled. "She didn't even have to do nothing."

"Don't care." Hunter huffed as he drew the glass to his lips. It fogged the crystal surface as he downed the rest of the drink. "Don't want her, just the debts and problems."

Cross leaned back on the chair and watched his boss, then laughed and shook his head. "I can have her come talk to ya." He watched, sharp gaze observing every single one of Hunter's little movements. "She still has an hour til she's done singing."

Hunter watched her sing, her arms and hips sway as her face was written with joy. "I wouldn't mind." He said, tilting his glass and pouring another shot of whiskey. "Don't mention anything about-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get ya." Cross stood, tugging a small pouch out if his pocket and opening it, plucking a toothpick between his teeth. "Want her to get the hots for you being your genuine self. All that."

A smile pressed to his lips as Hunter gently waved at Crosshair. "Go on, I'll enjoy the show." He smiled and leaned on the table, watching the singer on the stage, heart almost stilling as she continued, smiling at her own song.

[jayvoir]

jealousy — choi yeonjun

word count: 2k words

warnings: smut, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, drinking, unprotected sex, jealous!yeonjun, fingering, degradation, slight exhibitionism, choking, dirty talk, hair pulling

summary: you had been thinking of your best friend in more than friendly ways recently. what happens when he gets jealous on a night out?

authors note: this is my first smut so please be nice lol, i’m trying here 😭 @hoe2z this is for you ;)

“y/n, go out with us, please!! you promised,” beomgyu begged with a pout. you shook your head playfully, debating in your mind whether you wanted to go or not.

“y/n come on! we’re literally begging here,” soobin said, a pout also present on his lips. they had been trying to get you to go out with them for a while, but you always put it off. clubbing wasn’t your scene, so you avoided it at all costs. but, that’s kind of hard when you’re friends with the choi line.

just as you were about to decline yet again, yeonjun walked in wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and a maroon button down shirt that fit his form nicely. the first few buttons were undone, exposing a small part of his chest. your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, a rush of electricity flowing through you.

he smirked at the look on your face, knowing the effect he had on you. he knew he could use this to his advantage to get you to go. “y/n? please? come with us,” he said, voice laced with fake arrogance. you couldn’t say no to yeonjun so you sighed and agreed to go.

you trudged up to your room, digging through your closet, trying to find the right outfit. you knew what you were going for, and that was knock yeonjun off his feet. you settled for a cropped tight fitted long sleeve paired with a short leather skirt. you slipped on a pair of black heels, and lightly dusted your face with makeup. you were ready in no less than 30 minutes and you smirked at yourself as you looked in the mirror. suddenly, you were excited to go out.

you made your way down the stairs, meeting up with the boys at the bottom. soobin and beomgyu started cheering, telling you how hot they thought you looked. you smiled and thanked them, your eyes drifting to yeonjun. his eyes were dark, looking you up and down. it suddenly felt incredibly hot in the room as he stared you down. all you could do was smirk slightly, making yeonjun tense up.

“shall we go,” beomgyu suggested, not even noticing the tension in the room. everyone agreed, and piled into the car. yeonjun was in the drivers seat, you in the passengers seat beside him, beomgyu and soobin in the back. yeonjun started the car and started driving, one hand on the wheel, the other arm resting on the center console.

something about the way he was driving was really getting to you. you kept glancing at him, doing your very best not to make it obvious. however, the universe seemed to have different plans. he glanced at you and chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “what,” you asked, confusion laced into your voice.

he smirked once more, glancing back at the boys to see if they were listening. they weren’t, they were caught up in some game they were playing together. “you act like i can’t see you practically drooling over me,” he said, cockily. you tensed up in your seat, not knowing what to say. what do you say to that?

“oh um-”

“i’m not complaining. you look hot,” he complimented, the same shit eating grin on his lips. you playfully shook your head, not thinking he was being serious. you turned the radio up and just sat there the rest of the ride, not noticing the looks yeonjun kept throwing at you.

a short time later, he pulled up to the side of the street, parallel parking in front of a few clubs. you all piled out of the car, deciding which club to go into. they ultimately decided on the club with the shortest line, and dragged you over to the entrance, almost making you trip since you were wearing heels.

the line moved pretty fast, you guys getting up to the front in about ten minutes. you showed your id’s and headed inside, going straight to the bar. “i’m gonna go dance,” soobin yelled over the music after getting a drink. you all nodded, beomgyu following him, you taking a seat at the bar. yeonjun took a seat next to you, also getting a drink.

a few drinks later, beomgyu hurried up to you, basically ripping you out of your seat at the bar. “come dance with us,” he exclaimed as he dragged you out to the dance floor, yeonjun following close behind. you were surrounded by sweaty bodies, some of them making out or groping each other, everyone else just dancing and having a good time. you started dancing with beomgyu, and when the song switched to a more sensual song, it was more like grinding on him.

beomgyu didn’t mind, the both of you knew it didn’t meant anything. however, yeonjun seemed to think different. he stood to the side, staring you down as you danced on beomgyu, him clenching his hands into a fist. a moment later, he decided he couldn’t watch anymore. he stormed over to the both of you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to a bathroom in the back. “yeonjun, what the hell are you doing,” you yelled, trying to pry his hand off of your wrist.

he pulled you into the bathroom, slamming the door closed, locking it. he turned to look at you, his eyes dark. he stalked over to you, making you back up, eventually hitting your back against the wall. you gulped and looked up at him, feeling small underneath his gaze. “what the fuck was that all about?”

you racked your brain trying to come up with what he was talking about. and then you remembered what you were doing when he walked up. “the dancing on beomgyu? what about it,” you asked, confused beyond belief. “oh my god. you’re jealous aren’t you?”

he pushed you up against the wall further, leaning down to your ear. “so what if i was? what if i wanted you all to myself,” he said, his voice husky, sending shivers down your spine. he smirked when you didn’t respond, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“i guess i’m just gonna have to prove to them that you’re mine.” you were slightly confused as to why yeonjun was randomly acting like this, but you definitely were not complaining. you were willing to fully give yourself to him, whatever that meant.

he leaned in and roughly pressed his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you closer to him. he began to kiss from the corner of your mouth, down to your neck, beginning to leave a few hickeys. he smirked to himself once he heard you whimper, his hands making his way up your shirt. he trailed his kisses down to your collarbone, leaving a few more love bites along the way.

you whimpered once more, making him pull away and look at you, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. “what are you whimpering for,” he asked tauntingly. he chuckled deeply, when you didn’t respond, making you slightly nervous for what was going to happen next.

“if you don’t tell me what you want, i can’t help you, babygirl,” he teased. his words sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, making you look up at him, a needy look in your eyes. “so tell me princess. what can i do for you?”

you shyly reached for his hand, and placed it over your core, his hand ghosting over the fabric that covered it, making you whimper once more. he stuck his bottom lip out, finding your neediness incredibly attractive. “aw look at you being all shy now. does princess want me to touch her?”

you nodded quickly, still holding his hand where it you placed it. “y-yes please...” you said quietly. he smirked as he pulled your skirt down, pulling your panties down achingly slow. “yeonjun, p-please,” you whined, gripping onto his shirt.

“patience, baby. you’ll get what you want i promise,” he whispered, running his hands up and down your sides. he brought one hand up to your mouth, you immediately opening as he put his index finger in your mouth. once it was wet, he took his finger out, smirked and brought his hand back to your core. he ran the one finger through your folds, making you moan quietly.

“you’re so wet baby, and i haven’t even done anything yet,” he mocked. he began rubbing slow circles on your clit, making you grip onto his shirt tighter, wanting more. after doing this, he slowly inserted two fingers into your sex, making you gasp and grip onto his shoulder.

“feel good princess?” all you could muster up was a nod as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of your heat, making you moan louder. he kept going as he started kissing your neck again, only adding to the stimulation. before you knew it, you felt the familiar knot form in your stomach and you began to shake.

“j-jun i’m close,” you spoke, your voice shaking. as the words rolled off of your tongue, he pulled his fingers out and pulled away from your neck, making you whine loudly.

“no whining,” he demanded, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. he was left in his boxers, a prominent bulge poking out. you took a deep breath at the size, looking back up at him. he came back up to you, wrapped his arms around your thighs, picked you up and set you on the sink.

he hastily kicked his boxers off, spreading your legs with his knees. he ran his length up and down your folds, simply teasing you to get you riled up. “how bad do you want it, babygirl?”

you reached up and gripped onto his shoulder, desperately wanting to be relieved of the ache between your legs. “please yeonjun, i-i need you,” you begged. he leaned back down to your neck, pressing kisses to the fresh hickeys as he pushed into you easily, due to how wet you had become. the stretch felt magnificent, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he began rolling his hips into yours, the pain disappearing, being replaced by a sense of bliss. he reached up and wrapped his hand in the base of your hair, pulling your head back, making you moan loudly. “look at you. such a dirty little slut, taking my cock like that. you like that don’t you,” he said, his thrusts becoming quicker.

“you’re taking me so well princess, doing so good for me,” he spoke, words becoming slurred. he gradually became rougher with his movements, tugging on your hair again, making you let out a loud moan.

“that’s a good girl, let everyone hear how good you’re being for me.” you began to feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach once again, making you begin to shake. you gripped onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin, sure to leave marks. he took his hand out of your hair and moved it to your neck, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides slightly. not enough to hurt you, but enough to have you seeing stars.

“i-i’m so close-” he cut you off, pressing his lips to yours, his movements never stopping. the kiss was full of need, you wrapping your hand in his hair, tugging as the pleasure became more intense.

“you gonna cum? come on princess, cum for me, let everyone know who you belong to,” he said, his thrusts becoming sloppier, signaling he was getting close as well. before you knew it you were cumming, yeonjun beginning to rub at your clit only making the pleasure more intense, a loud, animal like moan coming out of your mouth.

yeonjun pulled out, stroking himself a few times, before cumming on your thigh, letting out a breath he was holding. you both had to catch your breath for a moment, looking at each other and smiling. he helped you get dressed, tugging his pants back on, buttoning his shirt back up. you turned around to look in the mirror, wanting to fix your hair, but froze at the sight. your neck was covered in love bites, some darker than others.

yeonjun noticed as well, and all he did was chuckle. “now they’ll know who you belong to.”

[bohemianrhvps]

She. -G.W.

Summary: after the quidditch match, and victory, against the Slytherins, the Gryffindors hosted a party in their common room and when George’s crush came in, the alcohol running through his veins makes him act without thinking.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol.

“Mate you’re fucking wasted.” Fred’s voice was loud but the music was louder and George was so drunk that he didn’t even care what his brother was saying to him.

“Just leave me alone and go shag one of your ladies, would you?” he was standing on the table, wobbling with a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, his shirt completely unbuttoned and his freckled toned chest exposed.

“ Don’t stop believin’ “ by Journey began to play and George was thrilled. He began to sing, pretending that the bottle was his microphone. Being half of the infamous Weasley twins led him to have a high reputation also due to his pranks so everyone had their eyes on him, smiling and laughing at his drunken state.

“DON’T STOP BELIEVIIIIN’ GO BROTHER GO “ Fred got on the table, hugging his brother and singing with him.

As the song ended George and Fred went straight to their friend Lee, who was chatting with Angelina, Alicia and Katie.

“Ew Georgie you’re all sweaty” Katie giggled as soon as George was near her.

“Then stay away from me” laughed him, earning a cold glare from her.

“So is your future wife already here, Georgie?” asked Lee, sharing a knowing look with Fred who was already smirking.

“I’m here, hello?? Can’t you see me?” Katie waved her hand in front of Lee, making George groan in annoyance. Angelina and Alicia shared a silent laugh, they knew about Katie’s crush on George and they also knew that the tall ginger twin had his eyes on another girl which was pretty clear.

He always made sure that everyone knew he had his eyes on (y/n), only her. He made sure with the long gaze in the Great Hall, sitting next to her when they had classes together, which were a few. She also knew he had eyes only for her and his attention only made her like him more. Fred said it was like a mating dance between the two of them, he didn’t know why they weren’t already dating.

“HELLO FUCKERS!!” (y/n)’s her best friend (y/bf/n) shouted as they entered the Gryffindor common room with their group of friends.

“Woooo someone’s already drunk, isn’t she?” Fred greeted you and your friends, placing an arm around (y/bf/n)

“Freddie leg’s go have some fun, yeah?” (y/bf/n) said giggled, hugging Fred’s waist.

“Hell yeah, woman!” Fred winked in George’s direction and disappeared.

George hadn’t notice (y/n) until he heard her laugh, he snapped his head in her direction and looked into Lee’s eyes.

“Am I presentable?” he asked his friend while fixing his hair, the bottle of fire whiskey still in his hand.

“Well sort of” Lee snorted.

“Georgie where are you going?” Katie asked him, putting her hand on his bicep.

“You see that gorgeous girl right there?” he pointed (y/n), who was still laughing with her friends. “She’s the love of my life and now I’m gonna make her mine.” he began to walk towards her, missing the “Sure you do” Lee said to him.

“Hello, love, are you having fun?” he greeted you, putting an arm around your waist and kiss your temple.

“You hot, George?” (y/n) asked him laughing while looking at his state, she couldn’t help but but her lip slightly looking at his tone bare chest.

“Thanks, (y/n). You’re hot too, especially with this top.” he felt her arm sneaking around his waist and he pulled her closer.

“It was a question since your shirt is open but thank you.” she placed her hand on his chest, patting it.

“At least I hope you enjoy the view.” his hand sneaked in the back of her neck, playing with her hair.

“I’m always enjoying the view when I look at you, Georgie.” she giggled and he felt his cheeks growing red.

“Come with me, I have to tell you something.” he took her hand and began to walk towards a small corner of the room. He slightly pushed her against the wall and positioned himself in front of her, his palms on the wall to the sides of her head.

“Okay George what do you want to tel-“ her words were cut off from his lips on hers. He just couldn’t help it, he couldn’t find the words to tell her that he was infatuated, he was in love with her so he just acted. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her when she was looking at him with her beautiful doe eyes.

“George no.” she slightly pushed him away.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked me, I’m so sorry I thou-“ he felt her finger on his lips, shutting him up.

“I do, I do like you Georgie and I wanted to kiss you for so long but you’re drunk and I do not want to take advantage of it.” her voice was soft but loud to make sure he heard her through the loud music. Her hand was of his cheek and her soft gaze never left his eyes.

“I’m drunk you’re right but this was a sober decision.” he lowered his body so he was at her same high.

“Stand up you prat, you make me feel smaller than I am if you go down.” she playfully slapped him, making him stood up.

“I’d prefer go down on my knees and bury my head between those pretty thighs, anyway.” he whispered in her ear making her blushing furiously.

“George Weasley, you perv!” her cheeks were red and he couldn’t help but laugh at her flustered state.

“Ugh come here” she sighed reaching her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down and kissed him again.

And that’s how their heated make out session began. They spent the entire party making out in the corner of the common room, her hands around his waist and her back pressed firmly on the wall, his hands still on the wall at the side of her head.

**

“(Y/n) and George made out the entire party and I missed it?” (y/bf/n) said shocked.

“Please remind me where you were” you said placing your hand behind your ear.

“Fred’s dorm, doing some activities ” (y/bf/n) whispered looking down.

“Anyway (y/b/n) you should have seen them! He was eating her face we were all shocked.” (y/f/n) laughed then went silent. “Weasley boys, twelve o’ clock.” she moved her head towards the twins direction, who were walking towards (y/n)’s table.

“Well goodmorning gorgeous.” George said sitting down near (y/n), placing his hand on her cheek and peck her lips. She remained silent, looking at George almost shocked.

“What is it?” he said biting his toast. “I can’t kiss my girl now?”

“So I’m your girl now?” she asked him, smirking and raising her brows.

“Thought I made it clear last night, after kissing you for hours. Don’t you remember putting your tongue down my throat? Merlin I thought I was going to suffocate at some point.” he teased her smiling cockily and biting his toast again.

“Oh yeah I clearly remember your hand on my butt and you moaning in my mouth.” she answered nonchalantly.

“Can you two stop flirting in front of us and go shag already?” Fred said pretending to throw up.

“Thanks for the idea mate!” George utterly stand up, taking (y/n)’s hand and drag her outside the Great Hall.

“Please be careful!” (y/bf/n) shouted, making your friends laugh.

little note: I’m sorry this is not as good as I thought, anyway I hope you like it

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [3/?]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1565

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I’m feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston’s eligible bachelors. What she didn’t expect was finding herself falling in love with him and him finding out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, or asked to be tagged. I’m really liking writing this story. I’m kind of just writing as I go. As always, tags are open! 

The music vibrated off the walls as my hips swayed to the beat, vacuuming perfect lines into the carpet. Dodger watched happily on his perch of the couch, tall waging. 

The last few weeks with just Dodger and I had been perfect. Every morning I would show up for his walk, feed him, doing a few loads of Chris’ laundry; how he had laundry when he wasn’t even home made no sense to me. Once I finished up at Chris’ house, I would head over to my night job. I had done the same routine every day for the last two weeks. 

I knew my body was exhausted, ready to crash at any given moment which is why I tried to keep myself moving, having the music keep me awake. 

I had also made sure to send Chris his daily Dodger pictures, letting him know that we both were doing good and that he was happy even though his owner was gone. Even though he was busy, Chris found time to text me back, letting me know that he was very thankful I was there with Dodger. 

Multiple times a day. 

We also talked here in there about things other than Dodger; I asked how his filming was going and he asked some things about me. We even texted a game of twenty questions when he had a long break between filming. 

He learned a lot about me, me making sure that the dark parts of my past still stayed hidden, and I learned a lot about him that the media didn’t even know. I was starting to know who Chris Evans was and not what the media portrayed him as. 

He loved playing the piano, even though he wasn’t that great; his words. 

He would rather lounge on the couch with Dodger on a Friday night than go out with friends. 

And of course, his biggest dream was to start a family. Everyone knew that and volunteered to be the one to help him. He said that hadn’t found the one that he wanted that with and he was starting to doubt that he ever would. 

I wouldn’t call us friends but we weren’t acquaintances either. We were somewhere in between. 

“AND THERE’S HOPE FOR THE UNDERRATED YOUTH!” I sang along, using my duster as a microphone. 

Not even the loud music could mute out the laughter I heard behind me. 

Spinning on my heels, I turned off the music and was face to face with Chris. He was leaning against the wall, biting his finger to stifle another laugh. His eyes shone bright with amusement and something that was very unreadable. 

“Heh, how long have you been standing there?” I questioned, heat creeping to my cheeks. 

He scratched his chin in fake thought. “Since the beginning of the song.” 

“Oh God,” I muttered embarrassed. “I didn't know you were coming back today.” 

“We finished shooting yesterday,” he mentioned while bending down to greet Dodger. 

I found myself suddenly wishing I had chosen to wear something other than my bleached covered sweats and shirt that was two sizes too big. My hair was falling in strands out of the bun and I knew that I looked like a hot mess in front of him. 

“Well, I’m actually finished so I’ll get out of your hair soon,” I spoke. 

Chris shook his head. “You’re fine.” 

“I really should get home and shower before work,” I stated. 

“You know, you never told me what your other job is.” He mentioned. 

He was still in his place on the other side of the couch meaning there was a good amount of space between us so he couldn’t see the hesitation from me. 

“I work at a club.” 

“Bartender?” Chris asked. 

“Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. “I really should go, though.” 

Chris reluctantly nodded. “Um, I know you worked a lot the past two weeks so feel free to take tomorrow off.” 

My sore muscles screamed in joy. 

“You sure? I bet you’ve got loads of laundry to do,” I said 

“I can do it,” he assured me with a smile. “I’ll see you on Friday?” 

I nodded. “Thanks, Chris.” 

Friday morning had come way too fast and as I rolled out of bed, I felt my bones crack into place. I spent yesterday morning and afternoon catching up on sleep to get ready for work last night; which was busier than ever. Countless parties and not enough workers to keep everyone happy. 

As I stared myself in the mirror, I frowned at the dark bruise that had started to form on my arm and made a note to cover it up before seeing Chris. He texted me last night saying that all he needed was his laundry done today so I was thankful for an easy day. 

I was about to walk out the door when my phone dinged, letting me know someone had texted me. Expecting it to be Chris, I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach when an all too familiar name popped up. 

Please talk to me. I miss you.

Without a second thought, I deleted it, not wanting it to ruin the rest of my day. 

Music played in my ears, drowning out any thoughts I had, as I walked up the stairs towards Chris’ bedroom to put away a basket of his clothes. I was here for a few hours, him being held up in meetings and video calls for his ASP company so we really didn’t have a chance to talk; only a small wave and smile when I arrived. 

I hummed along to the music, not realizing that someone had stepped out of the steam filled bathroom. Towel was loosely tied around his waist as water slowly dripped down his broad chest, over his tattoos. 

My feet felt frozen in place as we stared at each other, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply, eyes trained very hard at me. I couldn’t stop my eyes from following every inch of his bare chest; his v-line so defined and his happy trail that lead from his belly button to the top of the towel. His hair was slicked back and I was able to see his hazel eyes shining bright. 

Chris slowly licked his lips and I rubbed my things together to stop the heat I felt. 

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” I stumbled over my words while pointing to his door. 

He shook his head. “It’s alright. Can I have that?” 

The richness of his voice did absolutely nothing for the heat in between my legs when he motioned towards the pair of boxers I had in my hand. 

All I could do was nod and extend it towards him. We were standing on each side of the bed so I knew that if he extended his own arm, he could easily reach it however he made no motion to move. He simply lifted a finger and beckoned me over towards him. My feet started moving before I could register and within seconds I found myself standing in front of him. There was an invisible wall between us, us not wanting to take that step to break it down. His tattoos were clearer this close and I wanted to kiss all the lines of the eagle that was on his chest. 

Licking my dry lips, I handed the boxers to him. “Here you go.” 

My voice came out quiet and broken, Chris’ presence overtaking me. I was a puddle of desire and mush when it came to him and I could tell by the smirk playing on his lips that he was loving every single second of it. 

Chris’ fingers glided over mine as he took the underwear. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

The desire engulfed us in a cloud, trapping us in our spot. None of us took the first step to break it, liking this new feeling between us. Chris slowly raised his hand and with an instinctive fear, that cloud evaporated when I flinched away.  

Chris dropped his hand as I stepped away from him, covering my face with my hand. 

“Y/N,” His soft voice brought me back. 

Slowly dropping my arm, I realized that I wasn’t back in my old life, I was here in Chris’ bedroom; very far away from who I thought was standing in front of me. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

“Um, I forget. I have to leave early today. I’m sorry,” I lied, trying to leave this situation. 

As my feet started taking me out of his room, his bare chest was in front of me again stopping me in my tracks. I kept my eyes trained hard on the carpet, not daring to meet his gaze. His presence towered over me, feeling very small under it, and when his thumb lifted my chin to look in his eyes I could feel the worry ooze out of them. 

“I wasn’t going to hit you,” he spoke quietly. 

I nodded. “I really need to go, Chris.” 

He knew that this conversation was making me uncomfortable so without another word, he let me walk out of his room. 

That was the last time I saw Chris for a few days, lying that I had a stomach flu and needed a few days to rest up.

TAGS:

@kelbabyblue​ @patzammit​ @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13

@divadinag​ @cosmicbreathe​

[kpop---scenarios]

Turn - pcy

Byun Baekhyun | Park Chanyeol | Kim Junmyeon | Kim Jongin 

Warning: Smut 

Word Count: 1.7k 

Summary: Chanyeol is the first one to recieve Baekhyun's one time favor of pussy.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Chanyeol exclaims, dropped his grilled ribs back onto his plate. "You fucking did what?" 

"I asked Ayn if she'd sleep with you." Baekhyun says, bobbing his head with a smile. 

Chanyeol couldn't..  he couldn't understand just how Baekhyun could have thought this was a good idea, let alone a sensible thing to do. But then again when did Baekhyun ever truly have any good ideas. 

"How hard did she hit you?" Chanyeol laughs, picking up his meat and placing it in his mouth as he anticipated Baekhyun's response. He couldn't see any fresh bruises, or scratches. Maybe she was smart and hit him where no one would notice. 

"She didn't actually." Baekhyun says in a snarky tone. "She agreed." 

Chanyeol chokes on his meat for a second before he swallows it, his eyes widely staring at Baekhyun. "She doesn't even know me." He says. 

"True. But as she put it a friend of mine, is a friend of hers." He smiles. "She also said it was really sad that you hadn't cum from some good pussy in a while and she would be happy to be that good pussy for you." Baekhyun finishes, smiling at a now pissed off Chanyeol. 

"I can't.. I cannot believe you did this." Chanyeol scoffs. This entire thing was insane. 

"Do you not want to do it?" Baekhyun asks. "She wants you to meet her at the club tonight." He finishes, holding up a folded piece of paper in between his fingers. "The address." 

"You're too much sometimes, Byun Baekhyun." Chanyeol laughs. "Like actually what the fuck." 

"Okay.. Well I'll just put this away then.." Baekhyun says, slowly moving the paper back to his pocket. 

"Give me the goddamn paper man." Chanyeol grunts. "And get out." He says, snatching the paper before walking away from a grinning Baekhyun.

** 

A few nights later, Chanyeol is standing in front of a loud and busy night club, taking a few deep breaths before he heads in. He didn't expect anything to happen, if anything, he was just going there to make sure you weren't stranded there, alone. He was doing this for you, to make sure you were okay and you weren't like.. lonely or anything. This wasn't for him. 

He nodded to the bouncer who just waved him in, his heart was thumping so quickly, the lump in his throat made it hard to swallow. Fuck his mouth was dry. 

He walked past the bar, seeing an area with a few scattered tables, and they all had multiple people at them, except for one. It must be you. He watched as a man walked over to you, his smile bright, head held high, two drinks in his hand and a confident strut. 

30 seconds was all it took for you to have both of his drinks in front of you while he walked away with his head hanging down. Chanyeol chuckled as he shook his head, walking over to the table, now knowing you didn't need anyone's help. 

"Listen, my dude.." you begin before squinting your eyes. "Wait!." You smile. "You're Chanyeol." 

"That I am." He smiles, moving his hair from in front of his eyes. 

"You're hot." You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. 

"Thank you." He chuckles. "You're so hot." He mumbles, hoping you didn't hear him. But the smile on your face told you he did.

"Drink?" You ask, motioning to the spare one in front of you. 

"Sure, why not. One can't hurt." He says, grabbing the drink and taking a swig. 

"Yeah.." you smile. "One." 

**

Two hours, a few shots and a few more drinks later, your hand rested on Chanyeol's thigh while his warm was around your shoulders, playing with the little hairs on the back of your neck. 

"Fucking Baekhyun." Chanyeol groans. "He's so embarrassing." 

"Hey, no reason to be embarrassed. Fucking is nothing to be embarrassed about. We all go through times that we need help." You wink, making him groan. 

"I bet I could make you groan louder." You whisper in his ear. 

Chanyeol perks up and you grab his hand, pulling him up. "Lets dance." You exclaim, dragging him to the dance floor. 

You face away from Chanyeol, feeling his body stiffen as you close in the space between the two of you. You roll your eyes as you grab his hands, placing them on your hips as you start moving them to the beat of the song. 

It only took a few minutes for him to finally loosen up, his hips swaying with yours, his hand slowly creeping around your waist, pulling you in closer.  Once you knew he was comfortable, you turned yourself around, eyes locking as he moved his hands from your hips and down, stopping on the curve of your ass. He smirks as he gives it a little squeeze, winking as you look up at him again. You reach your arms up, wrapping them around his neck, pulling his head down closer to yours, your lips just inches away from touching. Chanyeol takes a deep breath before he moves in a little closer, latching his lips to yours. 

The kiss heats up instantly. His tongue slides into your mouth, his hands pulling you closer. 

You move your hand to his chest, feeling his hard muscles beneath his shirt. You move your hand down, feeling the rigidness of his abs. You move your hand lower, grazing your palm over the bulge in his crotch, making him moan. 

"Fuck." He whispers, panting. You feel the outline of his huge cock, you hand putting more pressure on it as you rub, making him squeeze his eyes shut tightly. He bites his bottom lip as his breathing becomes heavier. 

"Shit." He growls. "Come on." He says, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the dance floor. 

He pulls you through the crowd, heading towards the staircase that's glowing with lights, leading up to the empty VIP floor. 

You stand with your back against the balcony, Chanyeol's hands holding onto the railing tightly. 

You slowly get onto your knees, bringing your hands up to undo his button before pulling down his zipper. You can hear him gasp as you pull down his pants just enough that his cock springs free. You lick your lips at the sight of his cock. It's thick, his precum drips from his red and swollen tip. 

Wrapping your hand around his shaft, his body jolts slightly. You look up at him as you slowly pump his cock. He looks away from the crowd that's paying no attention and looks down at you. You maintain eye contact as you open your mouth, closing it around his tip and use your tongue to lick off his cum. His hands grip the railing tighter as his knees weaken just a little. 

"Fuck." He groans, closing his eyes. You remain teasing his tip, wondering how long it will take for him to finally take action and take what he wanted. 

Chanyeol moves one hand off the railing and down onto the back of your head. He pushes your head forward, making his cock slide further into your mouth. 

"That's it. Take my cock." He spits, thrusting his cock into your mouth and down your throat. "Good slut." 

Chanyeol thrusts a few more times before he takes his cock out of your mouth, and makes you stand up, precum and spit dripping from your mouth. He smirks at the sight of you, your eyes slightly watery with mascara trickling down your cheeks. 

"Open." He demands. You open your mouth, watching him as he sticks two fingers in your mouth. 

You close your mouth around his fingers, sucking them hard. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, turns you around,lifts your skirt up and moves your panties to the side. He takes his two fingers pushing them inside of you, making you moan. 

"Shit." You cry, your body shuddering. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before taking them out and jerking his cock with your juices. You remain bent over, your hands holding the railing as people below you continue to drink and party. 

He lines his cock up with your pussy, pushing himself into you. You clench your mouth together as your pussy stretches out to fit his huge cock. 

"Fuck." He grits, his hands holding onto your shoulders and he starts slowly thrusting. You can feel your pussy juices seeping from inside you every time he pulls himself out just enough, before slamming back into you. 

"Harder." You moan, needing him to destroy your pussy. 

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He asks, leaning over to whisper in your ear. 

"Fuck yes." You cry. 

Chanyeol moves his hand from your shoulder wrapping his arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. 

"You'll get what you ask for." He grunts, squeezing his arm around your neck tightly as he slams his cock into you. His thrusts are fast and hard, your eyes roll back further into your head with each one. 

"Oh.. my.. god." You stutter, his arm squeezing tighter. His other hand reaches down between your legs, using two fingers to rub your clit harshly. 

"Shit. Fuck I'm going to cum." You cry out. His fingers rubbed quicker, making your orgasm hit within seconds, your body shook as you worked through your high, Chanyeol still pounding your pussy. 

He moves his hands to your hips, thrusting hard. 

"That's right. Good girl." He breathes into your ear. "I'm gonna cum in your pussy." He whispers. 

"Yes, please, please cum in my pussy." You cry. "Fill me up." 

Chanyeol grunts as his own orgasm hits, his legs shake as he shoots his load inside you. "Fuck." He groans, his cock throbbing. 

"That was..  holy shit." He breathes, pulling up his pants. "Thank you." He smiles. 

You smile back, moving your panties back to the right spot, keeping his cum inside you. 

"Another balcony." You laugh. "Did you guys plan this?" Chanyeol laughs along with you, as the two of you make your way to the exit of the club.

Once outside, he gets you a cab, giving you a small kiss goodnight before thanking you again. 

"My pleasure." You wink. Chanyeol shuts the door, walking off as you pull out your phone and dial Baekhyun's number. 

"How was it?" He answers. 

"None of your business." You laugh. "Mission accomplished. I'm free next Wednesday, who's next?" You ask. 

"Mhmm." Baekhyun pauses. You can hear the laugh through the phone. 

"Definitely Junmyeon." 

[tonystarkhasaheart]

You Know Who I am

Tony Stark X Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Summary: Y/N a stripper who has a day job at Stark Industries and her boss pays her a pretty generous visit

Author's Note: Even though this is my first fanfic it will have 4 parts, hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Part 2 is on it's way soon.

I look up at myself in the mirror, eyes heavy from the weight of my lashes, dark, smokey.. yet sensual. Lips plump and red, a deep red nothing too bright.

I take a moment to glance at the room around me, girls in and out the velvet curtain, changing clothes, spraying perfume and adding last-minute glitter. I look at my phone to check the time 12:46am.

“Hot date tonight?” I hear from my left, I don’t need to turn to see who it is, most of the girls here don’t talk to me, except for Siren. Not her real name of course, but I guess when you have a real-life outside of this you don’t want anyone to know it. I don’t blame her.

I set my phone down and look at her with a gentle smile and turn to the bag I keep under my station between rounds, pulling out my book to read. I can feel Siren’s breathe over my shoulder. “Just some light reading?” She asks.

I laugh lightly “The lightest I’ve read in a while actually.” I smile to myself as I run my fingers over the title on the cover of Quantum Physics and Theories of the Mind.

“Don’t want to spoil it for you” she said scooting back a bit with her hands up feigning surrender.

I smile again, I forgot I actually like her sense of humor “It’s okay,” I look up from the cover, “I already know the ending.”

Before any more words can be exchanged, I hear my stage name being called by the house mom. “Bambi, you’re up sweets!”

“Thank you, Cassandra!” I place my book back in its place and grab my money bag turning to Siren one last time, “Why don’t we ever hang out, outside of here?”

“Because you’re too busy being a smart ass in the real world,” Siren says with a smile.

I wink at her before walking through the velvet curtains where it is almost pitch black, except for the neon lights circulating the room and spotlights on the main stage. I scan the crowd as I listen to my heels click on my way up to the DJ booth. A number of regulars and just as many new faces but the back of one man’s head stood out. I couldn’t quite place it at the quick glance that I got, but he was sitting front and center so it wouldn’t be long before I figured it out.

A dancer by the name of Scarlett was finishing up and I gave the DJ my song. He looked and me and shook his head laughing “You never fail to surprise me” I smile and look back at the stage to see Scarlett doing her best and receiving money from plenty of customers, but she was focused on one, and he looked like he couldn’t care less. Front and center with a profile that could kill, elbow on the arm of his seat with his head in his hand and his sunglasses pointlessly resting on the bridge of his nose. And then it hit me, not only was he like the richest man alive; he was also, indirectly speaking, my boss. Tony Stark.

I had only briefly met him once after my orientation at Stark Industries, so I wasn’t worried about being recognized. It was the fact that he was the man I wanted to wake up to every morning to study his brilliant brain. Now that, that did the trick. I felt heat spread through my body starting at my core and working its way to my neck. I rubbed the back of my neck as I shook off the nerves. I got this, just another customer, just one with a lot more money than most.

As the music faded from Scarlett’s song, I watched her pick up her money and try and shove it in her bag. The DJ started talking to the crowd and hyping up Scarlett as she walked around collecting some final tips. She got on her knees in front of Mr. Stark and leaned in real close. Without a single change in his demeanor, he pulled a single bill from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her between his middle and index finger, as if he was trying to shoo her away. But even I could see it was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. She looked at the bill offended and snatched it from his fingers before finishing her way around the stage. Once she was done, she passed me with a huff, practically cussing the billionaire out as she exited the stage to the back with her bag overflowing with money from the other customers. Something about being a ‘cheap micropenis douche who wouldn’t be able to appreciate a good dance if it hit him in the face. I shook my head pushing the waves of my hair over my shoulder as the DJ started to introduce me.

“If you thought Scarlett was good let the bar know and you might be able to get a private dance before she leaves tonight. But you might not want to leave just yet because next, we have our very best. A woman who can turn any type of music into your new favorite song. Here to prove it once again, the seductress herself, Bambi!”

I laugh to myself at the length of his introduction, but it’s true I like a challenge and today I picked a song that I normally wouldn’t have. “Back in Black” by AC/DC started playing and I couldn’t help but notice a certain man in the front’s ears begin to perk up at the first couple of notes. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me but I swear I even saw him sit up a little straighter.

I took confident, sexy strides towards the front of the stage and swayed my hips in a circle once I got in front of the pole. I held it as I circled it scanning the crowd. I dropped my hips and rose sensual making my ass bounce to the beat before turning my back to the pole and rolling my hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Stark lean forward in his chair hands clasped, elbows on his knees. He was invested and I wanted to give him a show.

I started to climb the pole and as I did, he slid his sunglasses off his face, looking directly into my eyes, staring deep into my soul with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. But I knew tonight I wouldn’t get to see the pain or trauma he’s overcome through his eyes because tonight, they were filled with lust.

Lust, passion..Possession.

As I slid down the pole his eyes never left my body. I gracefully landed on the floor and crawled to the edge of the stage. I turned to lay on my back letting the waves of my hair cascade off the edge, I arched my back looking straight at him. In a swift motion, almost a blur, my view was clouded by the storm of papers falling from the sky. Now standing directly over me with his hands firmly pressed against the stage on either side of my face. As lay there on my back I realized what just happened. I just made a billionaire rain hundreds upon my body and his face hovering over mine, was him making his claim on me for the night.

I sensually brought myself back to my knees slightly rolling in the thick layer of money that covered the stage. I twirled my ass in a way I know would make anyone weak and I didn’t have to look back to know he was all in. Crawling my way back to the pole using it to stabilize myself as I try to stand, simultaneously trying not to trip on the stage that I couldn’t see anymore. Now this wasn’t my first time getting rained on at the club, however when I looked down, the most notable difference between now and any other time it’s happened was that it was normally a slew of ones, maybe some fives, occasionally a couple stray twenties. But this... was all hundreds. Strictly Benjamin’s scattered across the whole stage to the point you couldn’t see anyone else’s money that was thrown during my set. I’m definitely going to need a bigger money bag.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Three trash bags, four security guards and five songs later, I just about collected all the money Mr. Stark threw for me. Now usually, we don’t get help picking up our money, unless it’s a VIP room shared by three or more dancers. However, because of the sheer amount of money and the fact that I was the club’s best dancer, they played favorites tonight. Not to mention girls from the back started to pick up bills that had overflowed from the stage onto the floor. Even some of the customers started pocketing some of the cash and honestly, could you blame them?

I immediately gave the bags of money to our house mom so she could cash me out for the night, but as I handed her my bags she told me I had a VIP room and she would put the bags in her safe until I was done. My heart sped up a bit as I hoped it was the very generous billionaire, but what are the odds that he would get a VIP room with me right after throwing a million dollars at me, literally. Technically I could’ve turned it down, I mean I definitely made more than enough money tonight, but part of me wanted to see who it was.

I touched up my makeup, ran a brush through my hair and freshened up a bit before changing my heels to a more comfortable black pair. As I walked through the curtains to the main floor, I could see Siren on stage dancing to “Body Party” by Ciara. I took note that the front row seat was occupied by another man. My heartbeat quickened as I turned towards the VIP rooms down the hall.

The closer I got I could hear the voice I dreamed of waking up next to. I took a deep breath primped my hair and opened the door to the room. His back was turned to me as he talked into his phone. He seemed unamused and inconvenienced. I took the moment to admire his figure as he hung up, not noticing my presence yet. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, oh how I’d love to lace my fingers through those tresses, before throwing his phone at the coach.

“I heard you were looking for a private dance,” I say as I entering the room further making my presence known.

Unfazed by this discovery, he turned around with that signature smirk. All doubt and suspicions placed aside I was standing in front of the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist himself, Tony Stark.

“And I heard you were the best,” taking a step closer to me.

“Depends on who you ask,” mimicking his actions.

“I trust my sources,” he said looking me up and down “, they’ve never failed me before.”

“Once or twice is not never,” I scoffed remembering the time my team had to cover a minuscule mistake in one of the details for a new clean air prototype we were working on that could have cost the company millions because one of his “sources” said it looked good enough.

“What are you-” I cut him off, closing the distance between us and reach for his tie to play with between my fingers. The way the fabric felt between my fingers let me know it was no clip-on, job interview tie. It was probably custom-made and imported from France or something ridiculous like that.

“So are we going stand here and banter or did you want that dance. Or was that an excuse to get me alone?”

“You better watch yourself, princess”

“Oh,” I tilted my head to the side challenging his very existence “, or what?”

“You know who I am.”

“Hmm, so maybe I do, but we have rules here,” I push him back on the couch “, Sir.” I smirk before climbing on him and straddling his lap placing my hands on his chest on either side of his arc reactor. I feel him tense slightly as I touched his chest, maybe an insecurity. I scanned his eyes, easily reading everything that fed into my suspicions. He looked as if I would turn and run in fear that he was some sort of monster, at any second just because it was there. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and stroked it in reassurance, silently letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere and not just because he was paying me to be here. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and regained his cockiness. All traces of the vulnerable moment we shared gone as I slid my hand down his neck to rest on his shoulder.

“So, it looks like I’m getting my dance after all,” he said running his hands up my thighs and resting them on my hips.

I started to roll my hips in circles, biting my lip so I wouldn’t enjoy the touch of his hands on my bare skin too much, “It would appear so.”

“What does a girl like you know about AC/DC?”

“I’m offended Mr. Stark, a girl like me?” I grabbed the hair at the base of his neck pulling lightly, tilting his head back. He groaned as I rolled my hips harder for emphasis.

“That’s not what I—fuck.”

I smiled as he squeezed his eyes shut, admiring the twisted expression his face held. I took the hand that was resting on his chest up his neck to his face running my fingers over his lips, they parted instinctively, before cupping his cheek and leaning in close to his ear whispering, “Mr. Stark I’m afraid you know nothing about me and the type of girl I am.”

His hands slid further up my waist gripping me tightly. At least I’d have a couple bruises to remember him by. He opened his eyes and for the split second I saw them, they were pitch black. He growled slightly pulling me into the most animalistic, passionate kiss I have ever shared with anyone. Quick to reciprocate, I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers in his hair, desperately trying to grasp on to any bit of sanity I had left. He bit my lip asking me for the permission that I granted him oh so quickly and without hesitation. He moved swiftly and his presence was so strong I was intoxicated by his scent, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, flooding my senses with everything that was him. I pulled away reluctantly needing to catch my breath. It came out in gasps, but he didn’t miss a beat sliding down to my neck feverishly, desperate to have my flesh between his lips.

“Mr. Stark,” I moaned.

“Call me Tony,” he said.

“I-I can’t,” I gasped, fighting another moan.

“Why not, princess?” barely letting his lips leave my neck even for a second, not seeming fazed by my answer. I could feel the smile on his lips, I couldn’t give in.

“I just, I can’t tell you.” Whatever spell he had me under was about to have me sleep with my boss without him even knowing he was my boss. Not that it wouldn’t be consensual but I still wouldn’t want to raise any problems at work.

He hummed against my neck and licked from the base of my throat to my ear then peppered kisses back to my lips before saying, “You’re trying to hide something from me, but I’ll figure it out.” He started to stand and I slid off of his lap still in his tight embrace. He leaned down kissing the corner of my mouth and whispered in my ear, “You know who I am,” and with that, he straightened his jacket grabbed his phone and left the room.

There I stood lipstick smudged, high off the intoxicating drug that was Anthony Edward Stark.

[voiceless-terror]

If it’s okay, how about “You always do that. You always warm me up.” and/or “You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere.” with jontim for the soft sentence prompts? your writing is some of my favourite of all time and your jontim especially is just *chefs kiss* mwah. Incredible.

Some soft JonTim for one of my favorite artists! Always happy to have another friend to spread the good word of this pairing, a particular favorite of mine. Hope you enjoy!

“Jon, you look wrecked.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied said wreck. “I’ve just got a cold, that’s all.”

Tim fixed him with an incredulous look. Jon stumbled through the doors of the library this morning looking for all the world like the equivalent of ‘hammered shit’ (Sasha’s words). Jon’s usual vibe was tired and harried on a good day, but this was pushing it. He only managed to get about half of his hair into a bun, the rest hanging limply around his face. He’d thrown a chunky cardigan over his clothes to hide that they were the same ones from yesterday. It did not work. Complete with red cheeks and bleary eyes, the man was not fit to be in a workplace.

Jon begged to differ. “I’m fine,” he said, burying a cough in his elbow. “I took medicine. Look.” With that, he dug a crushed box of liquid capsules out of his bag and threw it haphazardly in the direction of Tim, who caught it in startled hands.

“This is expired,” he replied after one look at the box. “It’s also not meant for daytime. When did you take this again?” Jon frowned uncomprehendingly as he attempted to parse out the words and Tim would’ve gathered him up in his arms right then if it wouldn’t embarrass him.

“Hmm.” The question should not be difficult. “‘Bout an hour ago, maybe?” Jon listed dangerously to the side, grabbing at his desk to keep steady and in the process knocking an overflowing cup of pencils to the ground. “Oops.” Jon was occasionally a man of few words, but ‘oops’ was not one of them. Tim immediately got to his feet, rushing over to steady him.

“‘Oops’ is right.” He gently managed to get Jon to his feet, leaning most of his body weight against Tim’s side. “You’re going home.” Jon just slumped further into his arms, barely managing a nod. His sudden compliance worried Tim; usually, Jon would put up way more of a fuss, getting snippy and slapping his hands away. This easy submission, while appreciated, made him more nervous than reassured.

“G’bye, Sasha,” Jon attempted a wave on the way out that looked more like a vague swatting of the air. “Tim’s takin’ me home.” She smiled indulgently, giving the two of them a wave in return.

“Take care of your man, Tim! And that’s an order.”

Tim would’ve saluted if he didn’t have an armful of Jon. “Aye aye, Captain.”

“Your man?” Jon mumbled as they made their way down the hallway, sinking further into his side. He said it as if the words were foreign, confusing. Tim couldn’t help his laughter. 

“Well, yeah.” He nodded in thanks to Rosie, who held the door open on the way out with a pitying look at Jon. The air outside was cold, bracing- Jon’s ridiculously chunky cardigan still wasn’t enough against the wind. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help you in your hour of need?” In a stroke of luck, he managed to snag a cab as soon as someone exited at the building next door. The less time outside, the better. “In you go!” He managed to gently extract Jon from his side and maneuver him into the back of the car. He rattled off his own address to the cabbie- if all Jon had at home was an expired packet of night-time medicine, he didn’t have much faith in the rest of his medical supplies.

He shut the car door and turned to find Jon staring at him in a sort of wide-eyed, loopy wonder. It would have been amusing if it wasn’t so concerning. “What is it?” he asked, running a comforting hand over his arm. “Are you okay?”

“We’re...boyfriends?” Shit. Tim realized they hadn’t used the term before and here he was, just casually slipping it out. It was not unlike him; Sasha always teased him at how easily he fell in love. But he was trying to take it slowly with Jon, do things right. Jon deserved that.

“I mean...yes?” It came out more nervously than he’d like, Jon was really doing him in with those giant, hopeful eyes. Damn him. He tried for familiar, easy ground. “I’ve been wining and dining you all around town. Do my forehead kisses mean nothing to you?” He put a hand to his chest, dramatic and exaggerated. “I’m wounded.”

“No!” Jon exclaimed, grabbing at the hand on Tim’s chest with an unexpected strength. “I like those. Please don’t stop.” His face was a blazing fever-red and filled with concern, not unlike when he was drunk and oblivious to teasing. “You won’t stop, w-will you?”

Tim’s heart melted without his permission. “Course not.” He took the small hand and squeezed it with his own. Jon sunk into a similarly sappy expression; he had no right being this adorable on expired cold medication. God, he loved him.

Shit.

Jon continued to talk, his brow furrowing in contemplation. “Iz’zat why you got me those Valentine’s chocolates?”

Shit.

“And the bear?”

Love? The big ol’ ‘L’ word? What if he’d sprung that on Jon like this, in the back of a cab when he wouldn’t remember it?

“And the balloon?”

How embarrassing for him. Truly.

“And the card?” Tim had forgotten Jon was still talking.

“Yes!” He choked out against Jon’s interrogation. “God, I didn’t realize how much of a sap I was.” Jon giggled in response, a high, happy sound incongruous with his usual sarcastic snorts.

“Yeah, you are.” He snuggled into Tim’s side; he could feel the heat radiating from the man, even through his jacket. “You gotta tell me these things. Else I won’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.” Jon was a literal man, Tim knew this. But he hadn’t exactly been subtle in his overtures.

“Boyfriends,” Jon sighed dreamily. “I like that.”

Hopefully he would remember this conversation.

__________

“This is not my flat.”

“Got it in one, Sherlock.”

He shuffled Jon through the door, depositing him as gently as possible on the couch and wrapping a fluffy blanket around his shoulders. He looked ridiculous, eyes at half-mast and a confused look on his face. “Gonna wait on the paracetamol, at least until the shit you’re on wears off.”

“Hnnh.” Jon leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes in contentment like a particularly lazy cat. “Kay.” Tim puttered about in the kitchen, getting a glass of water and wetting a rag; he should at least attempt to get the fever under control, Jon’s insistence on layers wasn’t helping. But he couldn’t say no to him, shaking and shivering as he was. Jon deserved a blanket burrito if he wanted one.

Tim pushed the glass of water into Jon’s hands, urging him to take a couple of sips before he set it back down. He plopped himself down on the couch, maneuvering Jon so that he was laying against his chest and placing the damp rag on his forehead, despite his protests. “We’re going to watch some crap telly and you’re going to take a nap. Sound good?” He should’ve probably gotten the remote before he laid down, but now that Jon was snuggled against his chest he was pretty much immovable.

“You’re not going back to work?” Jon asked the question as if Tim staying home was uncalled for and strange. He snorted in response. Typical Jon.

“You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere.”

Jon managed to lift his head a few precious centimeters, though he was straining with the effort. He looked as if he were going to say something very important, but he instead just collapsed back against his chest and buried his face in Tim’s jumper with a lazy purr of contentment. I can’t believe I’m dating a literal cat.

“God, you’re really burning up,” Tim rearranged the towel so it was back on his forehead, having fallen off during Jon’s attempt at conversation.

His next words were muffled against Tim’s chest. “You always do that. You always warm me up.” 

Tim almost audibly cooed at the sentiment before seeing an opportunity for a joke and taking it. Let it never be said that Tim Stoker missed an opening.

“Why Jon,” his voice took on an unbearable, teasing tone as his smile grew. “Are you saying I’m so hot I made you sick?” Jon groaned at the words, as expected.

“No.”

“How does that song go, again? You’re givin’ me fev-aah-”

“Shut up, Tim!” He let out a quiet chuckle, giving Jon a light squeeze in apology.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you rest.” Jon sighed, curling up in his arms. They stayed like that for some time; Tim rubbing a gentle hand up and down his back. Just when he thought Jon had been lulled to sleep, he spoke up in a quiet tone.

“You...you actually have a nice voice.” The words were slurred and Tim tried not to take offense at the ‘actually’ addendum. “But maybe just a bit quieter. And just a hum. Thanks.”

He snickered. “Will do.”

“Love you.” Tim froze, his hand stilling in its movements. He doesn’t mean it, he told himself firmly. He’s just tired and loopy. He won’t remember this when he wakes up. Still, he responded and the intensity behind the words was surprising even to him.

“Love you, too.”

Jon slept and Tim ran his fingers through his hair, listening to his soft snores. In an hour or two, he’d make him soup and insist on a dose of real meds. And that night, when Jon was curled around him in bed, with clear eyes and a lucid voice he’d repeat the words he mumbled earlier. And he would mean them.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977733

[nct-lian]

relationships outside of sm

JENNIE + LIAN: JENLI

so iconic omg like how they do it, i have no idea

they hang out all the time and lian is literally ALWAYS on jennie’s instagram

the two of them once had an instagram story conversation over pigtails

like,, jennie posted a picture of lian’s pigtails for that one bicycle performance on her story and captioned it “pigtail baby” and then lian reposted it on her own story with a picture of jennie’s pigtails, captioning it “pigtail eomma”

speaking of eomma, jennie is genuinely her mother

jennie takes her shopping all the time

and in return, lian buys her food

the interactions these two used to have at award shows were SO CUTE

everyone remembers when jennie pretty much yelled out lian’s name and she just came running over to the members of blackpink after taeyong let her leave :(

i’m crying just thinking about it help

jennie also posted a full on instagram post for lian on her birthday and had such a sweet caption with it

it was something like “my daughter is finally 21 today! i hope she has an amazing day and i can’t wait to see her later tonight to give her a gift :) haneullie, lots of love from jennie eomma”

SPEAKING OF THE GIFT,, jennie bought her a whole ass $9000 necklace from chanel because she knew that lian was looking for more

IM IN TEARS AND SO ARE YOU ADMIT IT RN

jenli kpop bestest duo

dispatch once thought jennie was on a date with a girl but it turned out to just be her walking lian home after going shopping with her so they never posted anything about it

they were embarrassed they got something wrong so i get it

omfg when news came out that lian and jinwoo broke up mama jennie was threatening to punch the shit out of him

KEVIN + LIAN: LIMOON

what i’ve been waiting to write for so long okay here we go

so mf chaotic like there are compilations made of these two that scream “go crazy go stupid”

their time as guest mc’s for inkigayo was probably some of the best kpop content we’d gotten in a long ass time

KEVIN IS CAUTIOUS WHEN LETTING HER MEET HIS MEMBERS

cause she’s such a good friend to him and wtf why would he wanna share

“mine mine mine mine” constant dory vibes 24/7

lian thrives off of calling him by his korean name because she knows it annoys him

he’s constantly teasing her for having bagged milk in toronto so he deserves it

the one time lian and jacob talked to each other they seemed to be getting along too much for kevin’s liking so he really went:

“okay lian isn’t it time for you to go” because he WAS GETTING JEALOUSJCLSJX

their styles are pretty much complete opposites and everytime they take pictures together kevin never forgets to mention how off it all looks

“tf is that why are your clothes so boring”

“okay sNaKe pAnTs” because of that one eric moment on kpop daebak show where he said kevin had pants with snakes on them

ALSO BTW LIANS CLOTHES ARENT FUCKING BORING SHES JUST FANCY LIKE THAT

i’m getting heated let me calm down.

they normally speak in english to each other but since lian seems to be stuttering over her words when she isn’t speaking korean, he mixes in a few korean phrases every now and then to help her out

kevin is arguably the most hype every single time lian performs, like he really thinks there isn’t anything better

LIAN MAKES SURE TO UPDATE HER INSTAGRAM STORY WHENEVER TBZ HAVE A COMEBACK SO NCTZENS GO SUPPORT THEM

LIA + LIAN: LILIA

more lian x the canadian line WOOHOO

lia spent her trainee days really looking up to lian and she’s even mentioned before that she’d love for itzy to get the chance to collab with her for a song

she really has her fingers crossed for that btw

they actually met during an award show when ryujin, chaeryeong and yuna all had to leave because it was past curfew

lian decided to sit next to them and during all the intermissions between performances she, lia and yeji conversed to pass time

they ended up growing a friendship together but lian has a stronger bond with lia

she loves all the girls either way but yk

lia and lian love going to cafes together and taking adorable pictures :(

like whenever lia posts on itzy’s instagram midzeys don’t exactly know whether or not lian would be on it too :0

like lian normally posts all the scenery pictures she gets to keep her instagram pleasing whereas lia posts the pictures the two of them take together

my heart </3

lian treats lia like a whole daughter because it isn’t often she finds girls that are younger than her

*screams in the fact that majority of sm’s female artists are all from 2015 and under*

like when i say lian SPOILS her i’m not joking

she will randomly call lia up like:

“hey i’m gonna get you out of that dungeon, come get some chicken with me”

and then they’ll just hang out together

but only if lian is out of the dungeon herself because wbk she ain’t treated very well </3

EUNWOO + LIAN: WOOLI

their chemistry is fucking insane holy shit

like their acting for past to present was seriously so praised, netizens found it hard to believe it was all just for the show

dating rumours follow these two everywhere,, like everywhere

it’s one of the most popular ships inside ncity when it comes to lian and other idols

i kid you not one tweet said “chanhyeok treated jihye so well in past to present, i’m only wondering how well eunwoo would treat lian 👀”

LIKE STOP PUTTING IDEAS INTO PEOPLES HEADS YOURE KILING ME HERE ISTG

but yeah they do look really good together

and they’re an amazing pair for acting

when eunwoo started working with inyeop for true beauty, he said:

“hyung’s dating my girlfriend” because of the fact that both of them have acted with lian and BOTH of them dated her in the dramas

what a coincidence though

we all cried when we saw chanhyeok and jihye kiss for the first time DONT LIE

EUNWOO FOLLOWS HER ON INSTAGRAM

and they wished each other happy birthday on their instagram stories

there’s actually people who like to think that they dated while filming for past to present andddd they radiate big delulu vibes

like you know liskook shippers? wooli shipped are kinda the same, but not as intense (thank god)

BUT CAN WE BLAME THEM LIKE THEIR CHEMISTRY? THE WAY THEY TALKED TO EACH OTHER? PLEASE

they took a lot of cute pictures together behind the scenes (ノ﹏ヽ)

MOMO + LIAN: LIMO

DANCER DUO DANCER DUO

this ship isn’t actually as popular as we would like it to be, but nonetheless people love limo

a lot of interactions during award shows !!

like for example momo’s fancams always captured her dancing perfectly to lian’s choreo

and lian smiling in momo’s direction

i love them

when lian found out about heechul and momo’s relationship, she asked momo if she was her mom now because of how much of a father figure she considers heechul to be JDFJK

“i mean sure”

they’ve actually done a vlive together before (ᗒᗨᗕ)

it was when lian visited her at the twice dorms and they ended up getting bored so they decided to do a vlive in the living room

THEY PLAYED DARE OR DARE AND LIAN HAD TO DO THE TEARS CHALLENGE (so chan whee) ON MOMOS KARAOKE MACHINE

her throat was dry for the rest of the night

after seeing momo’s hair for the i can’t stop me era, lian actually wanted to cut it like that

but she decided against it because she loves her long hair too much

the two of them met on hit the stage where they competed against each other in a freestyle dance battle

after that they just started casually talking over the phone and became great friends

with the way momo talks about lian, you’d think they’re dating-

“oh, lian- she’s so pretty! i love her a lot!”

and the same goes for lian, she loves talking about momo’s dancing skills

JACKSON + LIAN: JACKLIAN

her dad :/

adopted her with amber liu like a year ago so now she’s just his daughter

supports each other like crazy not even joking

jackson promotes her on instagram and twitter 24/7

THEY HAVE SO MANY INTERACTIONS THANK GOD

lian was once given a ridiculously short dress while attending an award show and jackson gave her his jacket to wear over her legs because she wasn’t provided a blanket :(

(keep in mind, she went there without the members!)

lian added all his music to her playlist :)

once got drunk together and spent like three hours doing karaoke but it’s okay cause it was fun

speaking of getting drunk, jackson’s the cool dad that lets her do whatever she wants

he has his protective moments where he’s like “ma’am where are you going on that short of a dress” but he’s also like “hey wanna go get chicken and soju”

they both appeared on a radio show together as guests and they ruined the whole broadcast because they were too loud

like they kept getting out of their seats to go wave at all the fans outside the window and they were just fighting back and forth about whether or not lian’s extensions look real

according to jackson, they’re “NOT AUTHENTIC ENOUGH- LOVE YOUR HAIR FOR WHAT IT IS, LIANNA HANEUL BAE.” lian’s hair lives matter :/

PLSSS WHEN HYOSEOP AND LIAN STARTED DATING- no

jackson was so proud that his good friend was smooching his other good friend but the protective dad instincts really kicked in

“break her heart and you die no cap”

was surprisingly chill when they broke up though, he was just glad lian didn’t cry

SUNMI + LIAN: SUNLI

SUNMI IS HER MOM OHMYGOD

so many interactions

honestly took lian under wing once she debuted as a soloist

female kpop soloists gotta have each other’s backs in this industry man :(

sunmi calls lian her princess SOBS

lian always hugs sunmi at award shows, like if they’re sitting close together

or if they’re standing next to each other on stage

you bet your ass lian is gripping onto sunmi for dear life

did a photoshoot together for marie claire korea

they’re so hot bro

BUT THEY FIRST MET ON WEEKLY IDOL NOT LONG AFTER LIAN DEBUTED AS A SOLOIST

they were kinda awkward ngl uh

but by the end of it they were besties :DD

and they’ve been besties ever since

lian is the ceo of doing dance covers for sunmi’s songs

cmon lian we’re waiting for tail 👀

sunmi has actually met lian’s grandma </3

like her and lian were hanging out at the dorms while the boys were out on a schedule and her grandma just randomly showed up with homemade food so that was definitely a win

BANG CHAN + LIAN: LICHAN

they’ve been friends for a LOOONGGG time

and chain’s known her since dating back to like, smrookies era when lian was still a red velvet member

like at that time she had no idea he existed, but he was keeping up with her daily :(

chan plays her music on vlives all the time and he always knows the dance moves

like he just dances along in his chair and mumbles the lyrics

we love to see it

a lot of fans ship them together

SURPRISE SURPRSIE AH

only because chan gives off big pining energy

lian only looks at him like “:D” whereas he looks at her like “♡•♡”

kinda sad but

lian promotes him on live so often HVKSVU

“my friend chan is coming back with his group soon, you should check it out! :)”

and the way she just says “my friend chan” LIKE ITS SO OBVIOUSLY A FRIENDZONE BUT HE THINKS ITS ADORABLE

he once got a comment on a vlive to react to lian moments, obviously complying because who wouldn’t

there was this one clip of her saying “my friend chan from stay kids!” and whoever edited the compilation added in squishy noises right after while zooming in on her face

AND CHAN BLUSHED SO HARD NOO

“oh- hahaha, uhh, she’s so cute aw hahahah”

ASHLEY + LIAN: ASHLI

oh god not another lian x mom ship

ASHLEY LOVES LIAN WOAH

like she’s submitted lian’s resume to bm so many times so they could be part of the big tiddie committee together

ashley is constantly, and i mean constantly, reposting all of lian’s posts on her story with captions like “LOOK AT HER GO”

and lian has even discovered all the cool instagram filters because of ashley, and now we get the quality content from her that WE DESERVEEEEE

back when lian’s album came out, all ashley’s story really was was just screenshots of her streaming all the songs and calling them bops

when they first met in person after texting back in forth, ashley spammed her instagram story with pictures of lian that she took without her looking

these two radiate a lot of “YES GIRL WORKKK ITTT TURN THIS WAY OKAYYY POSE POSE POSE” energy

lian’s been featured in one of ashley’s youtube videos and it was when they met for the first time :)

they exchange a lot of gifts through the mail

like lian once found a mug when shopping with doyoung and she thought that it would fit ashley’s taste so she sent it to her apartment

and ever since then they just send random little gifts to each other’s houses

it’s so cute

MATCHING BUCKET HATS THEY HAVE MATCHING BUCKET HATS !!!!!!

ashley talks about lian all the time

she always says that for someone so young, she’s accomplished a lot and she’s really proud of her

they wanna do tiktoks with each other but they never have the time </3

lian spam comments on ashley’s instagram like “WOAH” “OKAYYYY” “YESYESYES”

[philliamwrites]

sunkissed

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Albedo / Aether

Tags: #kissing, #morning softness, #fluff

Words: 1.6k

Summary: “Don’t,” Aether laughed, rising his shoulders to hide his skin from Albedo’s hungry mouth. “I’m stinky after yesterday’s battle.”

“No.” The tip of Albedo’s nose grazed his sensitive skin. “You smell like the sun. Always warm. As if the sun loves you. As if it wants to cling to you as long as possible.”

Notes: A birthday present for my lovely friend. This pairing just butters my biscuits, fam.

Also I'm still taking commissions for anyone interested! Just write me a dm!

Masterlist

sunkissed

»’cause you’re so lovely, you’re so lovely, i can’t help but fall for you, love when you love me, it’s so lovely loving you

    When Aether awoke, he was all alone.

    He opened his eyes in a sleepy daze, and as his hand reached out to his left, he found the crumbled sleeping roll empty and cold. Immediately, he startled fully awake as if struck by lightning, his mind clearing from sleep and dreams that tasted like ashes on his tongue.

    “Lumine?” he said out loud—the first name he remembered ever speaking, and the last he wanted to be his dying breath. But when usually his sister would come to his aid, trained to respond to the sound of his voice from childhood, to rise from bed when Aether cried, to run to help him when he fell down, now he was all alone inside the tiny tent.

    No. Not quite alone.

    It’s his first day in Teyvat all over again after he’d regained consciousness and called out for her, and had found Paimon in her stead, drifting in the ocean stretching before Starsnatch Cliff. Now, her little snores filled the suffocating quiet and coated his throbbing heart in a soothing balm labelled companionship.

    Aether thought that with time, missing Lumine would become easier to bear. That he’d simply grow dull and time numbed his feelings. Clearly, he was wrong, and Father Time was not that kind.

    He crawled outside the tent, quietly so he wouldn’t disturb Paimon, and emerged into the early sunlight winking through the tree crowns. Their little campfire from yesterday night had lost its battle and died hours ago, and Aether shuddered when a light breeze stirred its ashes into the air.

    That was when he spotted Albedo sitting at the top of a slope. He hadn’t noticed Aether waking up, his eyes fixed on the horizon where clouds had gathered in the east, and the rising sun lit them in brilliant shades of reds and corals and violets. His hand, holding a fine brush, danced across a canvas, trying to capture that ephemeral beauty with lithe fingers Aether knew were capable of much more than painting. His chest tightened when he thought of yesterday night. Their quiet voices and hushed whispers as they tried not to wake up Paimon even though all Aether had wanted to do was scream Albedo’s name when he finally came as Albedo’s rough thumb had grazed the tip of his member. Thankfully, Albedo was kind enough to swallow all of Aether’s moans and gasps, leaving his mind completely fogged and drunk on his kisses.

    Aether tried not to think too much of it as he went up the slope where Albedo sat, overlooking the vast valley stretching out under them.

    “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Aether asked. He stretched in the morning’s light, delighted by the early warmth and slight breeze on his skin. “I wanted to see the sunrise with you.”

    Albedo’s eyes drew lazily from his canvas to Aether’s waist, watching how his shirt rode up and revealed more of his skin without allowing his hand to stop once as the brush mixed reds and blues. “I tried. But you just drooled.”

    “That’s a lie.”

    A smile crept up Albedo’s face. “True. But you looked too lovely to wake up. Like you had a good dream,” he said so seriously, Aether felt heat rise to his cheeks. His arms dropped back to his side. He couldn’t handle Albedo’s honesty first thing in the morning.

    Albedo rose an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

    Aether did have a dream. A dream about Mondstadt’s Windblume Festival where all his friends had gathered around a table in Angel’s Share, and in the centre, like the sun holding its own universe, sat Lumine, beaming at him.

    “Happy birthday, brother,” she’d said, intertwining their fingers just like on the day they were born.

    “Happy birthday, sister,” he’d said, touching his forehead to hers just like during their days spent inside their mother’s womb.

    How much he longed to be with her again.

    Aether exhaled. He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until that moment. Albedo must have heard him, for he raised his head and his gaze met Aether’s, and he wondered how much of the endless black hole that his grief cut into his heart Albedo could see.

    The corner of his mouth pulled up into a rueful smile. “No, you’re right,” Aether said. “I had a dream. A good dream, indeed.”

    Albedo stopped painting. His eyes were the colour of the ocean after a storm, clear and bright and deep enough for Aether to drown in them. He wanted it. Aether wanted to be swallowed whole. Become tiny, pocket-sized, perfectly fitting in Albedos’ palm and be devoured. Be completely consumed until nothing was left, and all of him belonged to Albedo only. What a wonderful mess that would be.

    Quickly turning his eyes away before he dropped to his knees and begged Albedo to take him right here and now in the open, Aether tried to douse his desire by gazing out at the sublime scenery. A flock of birds took flight from a nearby tree, their song echoing through the valley. Clouds drifted over their heads on their lazy journey over fields and rivers, taking unrecognisable shapes as they told stories about every place they’d seen. Aether envied them.

    “You know, in the world where I’m from, it’s always night,” he said. “Sure, it’s beautiful, we have so many more stars than you guys. And moons. But it’s the same. Wherever I looked, it was always the same. But this—” He waved his hand at the sky above them. “Your sky changes every day. It’s always different, the colours, the clouds. Dawn, dusk. I didn’t know words like that existed when I first came here. It’s beautiful.”

    Albedo followed Aether’s gaze, considering the landscape in front of them. But his eyes—suddenly ablaze, a roaring fire—drew back on Aether as he said, “It truly is beautiful.”

    Aether didn’t feel beautiful. He’s pretty sure his bed-hair was still sticking to all sides and his clothes were rumpled. But Albedo never failed in making him feel wanted, desired. Be that in the early morning hours without having his face washed or teeth brushed, or on the battle field with blood and grime spattered all over him.

    Just like now, Albedo was able to make Aether come undone with a single gaze of those piercing, ocean eyes.

    “Let’s go back before Paimon wakes up and throws a fit because she thinks we’ve left her,” he said and turned around before this would turn into an unholy, filthy ceremony out in the open not even the Archons should witness.

    Aether didn’t come very far. Halfway down, Albedo caught up to him and in a flash, seized Aether’s wrist. He pulled him to a nearby tree, and a second later, Aether felt rough bark against his back. Albedo closed the distance between them in one step. His hands cupped the back of Aether’s head, his mouth slanting down over his, hot and sweet as tea with honey. Aether ran his teeth lightly across Albedo’s bottom lip, and he made a guttural sound that raised the hairs along Aether’s arms. He pressed his body hard against Aether’s, lowering his head to kiss his throat, to lick and suck at the pulse point where he could feel the beating of his heart.

    “Don’t,” Aether laughed, rising his shoulders to hide his skin from Albedo’s hungry mouth. “I’m stinky after yesterday’s battle.”

    “No.” The tip of Albedo’s nose grazed his sensitive skin. “You smell like the sun. Always warm. As if the sun loves you. As if it wants to cling to you as long as possible.”

    Aether’s knees buckled. How could simple words like that make him forget his own name. In Albedo’s hands, he turned to clay, left at Albedo’s mercy for he was the potter and Aether would become anything to please him. Albedo’s fingers traced his curves, the dips and hollows of his body as if he were describing a painting in gilt and ivory with each rush of his hands. Aether raked his hands over Albedo’s body, trying to find purchase before he completely turned into a puddle and dissolved between Albedo’s fingers. His hands caught on the belt strung across Albedo’s chest, and they both halted for a second as they waited for a heartbeat that didn’t come.

    Albedo exhaled softly as he lowered his forehead to Aether’s. “If I had a heart, it would hurt for your burden.”

    “It’s fine,” Aether said. He took Albedo’s hand and put it over his own heart. “Mine is enough for both of us.”

    Albedo smiled. He pressed Aether’s knuckles to his lips, and murmured against his skin, “And what a magnificent heart it is.”

    Aether held onto Albedo so much, just a little more and they’d become one. It felt like they were the only two people on this earth, just the two of them off to see the world and all its wonders. Aether wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t mind if tomorrow came and all of Teyvat’s people fell into an endless slumber, and eventually completely disappear. Until recently, Aether hadn’t know it was possible to love someone this much. That if the world were to end tomorrow—if Aether were to have just one wish before it would all end in darkness, it’d be to wake up to Albedo’s sunkissed face in a quiet place they called home, built with their own hands. If that wasn’t love in its truest form, then every fairy tale Lumine used to tell him was a lie, and it was up to Aether to write his own story in which he’d make sure to burn so bright by Albedo’s side that even stars envied them whenever they come together to create a whole new universe.

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