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#every other piece was like. thousands of dollars
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THE WOODCUT I WAS GONNA BUY JUST GOT TAKEN OFF THE WALL OF THE STUDIO IM so sad
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bluebellhairpin · 4 months
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Yeah, hi. Not gonna lie taylor, I do kind of agree. You're definitely a part of the problem.
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shotmrmiller · 4 months
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living in some dingy apartment building because it is all you can afford on your income unless you want to eat danimals yogurt and saltine crackers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. the stern landlady lives on the first floor, and some neighbors blast music on weekday nights (even if they didn't, the walls are paper-thin. you know more about the cambrian period than you'd like to, thanks to room 105) but it's a modest roof over your head and while the darkened grout lines in the bathroom are permanent, at least there's hot water.
until there isn't. and the landlady has mysteriously gone on vacation for the next two months.
what used to be a cathartic cleansing has now become your torment. every other day is hair wash day which means you're bent over the cold, porcelain edge of your tub, back screaming in protest and pain shooting up your bruised knees even though you've sacrificed one of your very nice pillows to avoid exactly that.
and showering is torture. the icy cold water feels like a thousand tiny claws scraping over your tender scalp, sinking into your trembling shoulders. you don't wait for your body to acclimate, just hastily scrub yourself as clean as you can and hop out, your chattering teeth and shaky breaths echoing through the tiny bathroom.
it's like this for a week and a half, a whole 10 days of suffering with showers so cold it feels like shards of ice biting into your goosepimpled skin when it stops. warmth bleeds into the stream of frostbitten water. finally, it soothes instead of stings. your coiled, tense muscles gradually slacken with relief, with unadulterated bliss. steam rises, the tips of your fingers and toes tingle as if thawing. gratitude wells in the corner of your eyes.
if you had any money you could afford to give, you would to your savior, but every dollar you own is earmarked for the bare essentials. so, with your thick, warm bathrobe cinched around your waist, you pen down a little heartfelt note to stick to the bulletin board downstairs before heading out for work.
thank you, whoever you are, for fixing the boiler. i could kiss you <3
when morning comes, you use one of the dull, golden tacks that previously held a lost pet flyer (sorry, bilbo the hamster, but it's been a year) and pin your note up.
only to come home and find it gone, a torn corner all that remains. maybe it's karma for your callousness towards someone's pet. (justice for bilbo.) you shrug it off, giddily skipping up the steps to wash off the day's stress with hot water.
but before you even hang your keys on the wall, there's a pounding on your door, hard enough to rattle it in its frame. and the masked man you see through the peephole isn't familiar. against your better judgment, you clear your throat before cracking open the door. "yes?"
the piece of paper he's holding in his dinner plate-sized hands seems incredibly small— and it's your note.
"i fixed the water." oh. "'m 'ere for wha' 'm owed." owed?
"i'm not— um. the kiss. it's just a figure of speech." the thick muscle of his bicep coils as he crosses his arms over his barrel chest. he's a very large man, as broad as your door.
if you slammed it closed on him, he'd probably leave it hanging by its hinges. that's not worth a measly kiss.
"okay. but on the cheek since i never specified where so it's dealer's choice."
he huffs out an amused breath but complies, hooking his thumb under the edge to pull up his balaclava just enough to expose his stubbled cheek. he's got a couple of scars; thin, slightly raised. run along the sharp edge of his jaw and disappear beneath the fabric.
he leans close, enough to hear his steady, slow exhales. he smells of dirt. salt. something smoky, tangy-- like on new years, minutes after the clock strikes 12.
your hands cradle his face as you rise to your tippy-toes, wetting your lips and crane your neck-- but he snaps his head to the side,
and takes the kiss he was owed.
(he takes a screwdriver to the ac unit next. wire cutters to the fuse box. nails to your tires. anything that'll inevitably lead you back to him. you tried paying him with dinner but the only thing he was interested in eating was your cunt.)
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months
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welcome to the bunny's bakery!
how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!
the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)
i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!
all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunnys-kisses and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !
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mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”
butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."
sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”
zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"
carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."
millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."
pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."
oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."
persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."
spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."
mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."
lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."
swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."
pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."
pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."
sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."
pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."
tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”
sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"
pull-apart bread: "i love you"
powered sugar donuts: "marry me."
blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”
pudding chomeur: "i don't share."
ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."
chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."
soufflé: "i'll be gentle."
fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."
apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."
vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"
berry trifle: "wrong. try again."
maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."
s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"
belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."
pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."
loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."
jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"
maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."
snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."
shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"
flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."
peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."
angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."
red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."
mince pie: "i'm not jealous."
banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."
crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."
chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"
nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."
coffee cake: "knees. now."
sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."
blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."
pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."
croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
crepe: "pretty girl."
french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"
churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"
shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."
savory pastry: "let your brother find out."
sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."
eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."
boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."
bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”
crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”
tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."
peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”
eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."
scones: "but what if they see us!"
english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"
honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."
banana split: "don't look at me like that."
beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."
fudge: "your father is pissing me off."
sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."
hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."
brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."
chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"
tim bits: "stupid little thing."
fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."
cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."
devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."
crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"
banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."
custard tart: "i've never done this before."
cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."
mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"
date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."
figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"
spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."
cream puffs: "let me finish inside."
profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."
with a side of:
coffee: rivals
tea: semi-public/public sex
juice: cockwarming
mocha coffee: breeding kink
bubble tea: daddy kink
a vodka shot: rough sex
sparkling water: gentle sex
coconut water: alternate universe
energy drink: doggy style
champagne: sugar daddy situation
hard lemonade: possessive behaviour
espresso shot: dirty talking
a glass of wine: cowgirl position
ice capp coffee: werewolf au
bloody mary: vampire au
martini: mafia au
frozen latte: dumbification
frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent
cranberry juice: mean!character
glass of water: aftercare
chocolate milk: tenderness
milkshake: size kink
pina colada: pregnancy
cider: body worship
mai tai: loss of virginity
margarita: unprotected sex
mint julep: punishments
chai: biting/hickies
earl grey: big cock
fishbowl cocktail: protected sex
tonic water: age gap
matcha latte: collars/bondage
root beer: filming/recording
soda: jealousy
americano: oral sex
whisky: degrading language
vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic
irish coffee: high sex
sangria: drunk sex
dark roast coffee: sub!character
dark hot chocolate: sub!reader
iced tea: accidentally launching relationship
lemon water: university/college au
naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader
on the house: author's choice!
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ORDER UP!
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namikawa · 3 months
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simon riley, reiji namikawa, toji fushiguro, chrollo lucilfer, GOJO SATORU, john price
“so what do you think, do you like the pink one more or red?” you ask sweetly. he stares you down, not saying a single word but making a soft head tilt, accompanied with a grunt at the frilly pink skirt you held in your hand. “think the pink suits you better, real pretty on you.” you immediately perk up, rambling on about how you agreed and really loved the pink one as well.
he can’t focus though, why in the living hell would he be able to focus as you stood, half naked in front of him, bouncing around and giddy about the new outfits you bought. you’d somehow convinced your boyfriend to let you have a mini fashion show as he flipped through the channels trying to find something decent to turn on.
he didn’t think you were serious even though this happened to be a common routine between the two of you. every single time you’d come home after spending thousands of dollars on new skirts, shoes, and bags begging him to let you show off your new additions to your wardrobe. and every single time you’d end up pressed against the couch, bed, counter, anything you were next to quite frankly, with your new piece scattered somewhere across the room as he fucked you to tears.
“goin around spending my hard earned money, just to look like some whore for other men, huh dove?” he knew that wasn’t true of course, always encouraging you to spend whatever you wanted on yourself. he loved to see you happy, this was just his excuse to have a little fun.
but every time you seemed to fall for it, whining in between thrusts about how, “no, only for you! promise it’s just for you daddy, only wanted to show yo-”. before you could get anything else out a hand snakes around, clamping over your mouth. “shh i know dove, just teasing you is all, skirt made you look so good just had to find a way to get you out of it, you know how i feel about ‘em.”
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youunravelme · 4 months
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nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1
author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.
summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!
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after
despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.
but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.
the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.
“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.
“how was work?” your mom asked.
you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.
when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.
but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.
but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.
it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.
“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”
both of your parents hummed.
“did you have dinner already?” you asked.
“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.
your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”
you wanted to throw up.
you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.
“oh,” was all you could say.
“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”
you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 
“i’ll figure something out,” you said.
your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.
before
you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.
it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 
but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.
you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.
not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.
a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.
“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.
you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”
the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”
“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.
“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.
“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 
“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.
you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.
“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.
you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.
the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”
matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.
matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.
the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”
you nodded.
mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.
matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.
you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.
if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.
after
you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.
“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”
“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.
“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”
your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.
you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”
but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.
you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.
and that’s what life had felt like lately:
unfortunate.
unfortunate shit just happening to you.
it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.
you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.
emma:
hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!
you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.
years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.
but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.
you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.
now it just filled you with dread.
no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.
but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.
you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.
you:
i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!
and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.
before
the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.
missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.
it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.
school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.
now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.
and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.
the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.
especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 
all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.
which is how you ended up playing the game of life.
even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.
you found yourself smiling and laughing along.
you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.
“are you having fun?” he asked.
your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”
“really?” he smiled.
you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”
matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”
you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.
but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.
you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.
“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”
matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”
to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?
evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”
you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”
he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”
you locked your fingers together. “promise.”
after
it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.
which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 
before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.
“hey! what’s up?”
you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”
emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”
you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”
“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”
and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.
“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”
“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”
“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”
“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.
“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”
you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”
“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”
you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.
there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”
before
matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.
both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.
morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.
hence the party in the basement.
morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.
“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”
no one said a word.
you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.
“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”
the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”
thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.
you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.
but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”
“truth,” simone replied.
morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.
the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.
“truth or dare?” she asked.
you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.
“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”
your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.
a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.
“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.
morgan blinked. “what?”
it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”
she guffawed. “but you have to!”
matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”
“but you lose if you don’t!”
he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”
your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.
“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.
a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.
“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.
matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”
you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”
matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”
“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”
he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”
you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”
he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.
“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.
oh god. did he like simone?
your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.
you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”
he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”
now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”
matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.
“what do you mean?”
“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”
“matt, what are you talking about?”
he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”
“know what?”
matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?
“matt what—”
“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.
you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.
matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”
“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”
“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”
you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”
“would you let me?”
words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.
but it was perfect.
after
you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.
most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.
it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.
unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.
but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?
you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.
it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.
“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”
and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.
the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.
“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”
you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”
taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.
you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”
taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”
your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”
taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”
“taryn...”
“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”
you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.
“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”
you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.
“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”
you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”
the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.
you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.
emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.
the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.
it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.
emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.
you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.
you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.
emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.
but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.
“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”
if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.
if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.
if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.
if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.
but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.
brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.
if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.
but it was too late now.
matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.
you felt like an idiot.
you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.
your hands were shaking again.
you shoved them in your pockets again.
matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.
“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.
you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”
matt scoffed. “not happening.”
out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”
matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”
“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.
brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”
you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.
and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.
you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.
but it wasn’t like that this time around.
you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.
the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.
you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.
you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.
except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.
you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.
you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.
brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.
a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.
you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.
in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.
his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.
you just—
couldn't.
matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.
you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.
before
you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.
matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.
the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.
“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 
“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”
“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.
moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.
you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.
a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.
“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.
you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.
matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.
“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.
matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”
you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.
all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.
“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.
you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.
“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.
you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”
matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”
you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.
matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.
you blinked, still smiling. “what?”
“you're not gonna say you love me back?”
you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”
matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”
and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”
and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.
matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.
“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.
“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”
matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”
“i love you so much.”
after
the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.
you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.
last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 
the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.
“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.
“rough weekend,” you grumbled.
frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”
you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.
“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”
you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”
“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”
there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.
“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”
you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.
“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”
“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”
you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.
“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”
frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.
you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.
but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.
not two minutes later.
not thirty minutes later.
not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.
not even on the drive home.
frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.
it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.
and now it was no one.
now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.
you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?
you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.
“hey.”
it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.
“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.
“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”
“good.”
matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”
“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”
“if you—”
“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?
matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”
the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 
“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”
“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”
“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”
“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”
you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.
one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.
and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.
there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.
you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.
so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.
you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.
“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.
your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”
“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”
a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”
before
“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.
you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”
“do you have any back up schools?”
you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”
ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”
“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.
ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”
“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”
your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”
“i want to be with matthew.”
ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”
“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”
ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”
after
you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.
it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.
and now it was saturday.
you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 
if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.
you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.
it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.
despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.
the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.
“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”
“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.
she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.
“how’s work going?”
you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”
simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”
“but are you passionate about what you do?”
she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”
you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.
“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”
it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.
simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”
you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”
simone whispered your name.
“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”
simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”
you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”
simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”
you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”
your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”
“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”
“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”
your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.
so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”
simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”
you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 
the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.
maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.
before
the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.
you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.
the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.
but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.
but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.
it was fine.
just high school.
you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.
but it wasn’t like that.
because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.
matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.
so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.
you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.
“please hold your applause until the end.”
you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.
your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.
as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.
“outside!” brady pointed.
you nodded.
as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.
a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.
when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”
matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”
“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 
“me too, baby.”
unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.
but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—
everything was perfect.
you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 
and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.
but you had no idea how the future would turn out.
you thought matt was forever.
after
you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.
you could do that, right?
just casual sex?
the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—
you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.
your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.
the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 
her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.
his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.
he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.
but maybe it was for the best.
you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.
“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”
“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”
you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.
which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.
you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.
“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”
oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?
but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.
you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.
“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”
“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.
simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”
“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.
“mostly acrylic.”
andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”
you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”
“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.
you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.
“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”
your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”
and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.
“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”
you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”
andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.
the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.
he, quite literally, left you in the cold.
andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.
“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”
you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”
andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”
your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.
you refused to be pathetic any longer.
which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.
before
you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.
and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.
because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.
tonight was different.
safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.
you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.
until tonight.
you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.
“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.
matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.
“you okay?” you asked.
he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”
the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.
but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.
normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.
“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.
“nothing,” he grunted.
“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”
“there’s nothing to help.”
“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”
“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.
your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.
matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”
“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.
matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.
a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.
a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.
his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.
“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”
“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.
you kept walking.
“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”
you kept walking.
a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.
gently, he turned you around.
“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.
you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?
he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”
you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”
with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”
“matthew, you know that’s not true—”
“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”
a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.
“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.
“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”
your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.
“i love you, matty.”
he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”
after
“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.
your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.
you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”
“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.
you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”
your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”
your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”
“alan, this will be good for her!”
but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”
“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.
but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.
so was matthew.
you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”
the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 
but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.
andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.
and you hated yourself for it.
the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.
andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.
“hey,” he greeted.
you gave him a small smile. “hi.”
“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”
you shook your head. “not too bad.” 
c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.
“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—
“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”
you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”
andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”
you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.
you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.
your phone buzzed.
simone: 
how’s it going?
you smiled despite yourself. 
you:
he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.
you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.
you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.
“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.
you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”
“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”
your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.
you wanted to throw up.
instead, you chugged the drink.
“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.
you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”
he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.
and another.
and another.
your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.
matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.
but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.
your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.
“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”
but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.
then the panic set in.
it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.
“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 
“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.
“matt hey—”
brady. you were right, brady was here.
god you loved brady.
“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”
with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.
oh. your date.
there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.
you were gonna throw up.
or pass out.
you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—
“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”
the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.
your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.
were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—
oh god.
oh god.
“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”
did you?
but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.
maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.
“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.
“he—he was gonna—”
matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.
matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.
your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.
what a year tonight has been.
your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.
“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”
your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.
rock bottom.
you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.
“you okay?” he asked.
“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”
matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.
“baby i—”
“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”
“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”
maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”
“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”
“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”
matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.
and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?
you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.
“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”
brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.
“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”
you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”
matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”
your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”
he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”
you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”
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nadvs · 6 months
Text
both sinners (part two)
pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug use
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summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.
{ masterlist }
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
When Rafe wakes up in his bed, bits and pieces of last night drift into his mind.
He remembers watching you on stage. And touching you while you danced on his lap. And going upstairs with you.
And at the end of it all, asking for your number. But he can’t place if you actually gave it to him.
When he finds your contact info in your phone, he’s relieved. He wants to replay last night. It felt like a dream. He texts you: when are u working next?
You eventually reply: lol you asked me this like ten times last night
Rafe: and whats the answer
You: friday
His lips twist in frustration. He can’t wait that long.
Rafe: are u coming to my party tonight
You: wasn’t planning on it
Rafe: well plan on it
You look down at your phone in amusement. You’d overheard the girls at work talking about this in the dressing room before. Some customers do this - they get infatuated by a stripper, by the fantasy of you being their plaything.
Unless the customer is a creep, going along with it is basically a guarantee of a steady flow of cash from them. The thing is, you don’t really have to play it up. You genuinely had fun with Rafe.
You tease him in your reply, texting: hmm fine i guess.
You’d been at Rafe’s house for parties a few times before, but every time, the vastness and luxury of his home nearly jolts you.
The place is swarming with partygoers, music loud and conversations louder. You’re with your group of close friends, some fellow dancers and some not, as you make your way through the crowded foyer.
When you spot Rafe sitting on a couch, counting and fanning out $20 dollar bills of what you’re sure is his drug money, you let your friends know you’ll find your way back to them.
When you approach him, you put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks up, a smile spreading on his face as soon as he realizes it’s you.
“Do I owe you for the bump last night?” you ask him. He stops to think about it.
“Yeah, actually, you do.”
“No problem. I made a lot of cash last night,” you tease. Nearly half a thousand dollars solely from him, to be exact.
He takes your wrist and pulls you down onto his lap. You giggle, placing an arm around his shoulders as he encircles you in his arms, the cash now a bundle in his fist.
He’s so damn possessive. And grabby.
“You’re not paying me back that way,” he murmurs to you. You smirk, looking down at his mouth.
Rafe is already getting hard. The feeling of you on his lap, your ass pressed against his thigh, your short dress, that smile… Fuck.
“Didn’t see that coming,” you say sarcastically.
He cradles your jaw to kiss you. He loves the feeling of claiming you in public like this. There’s something so fucking hot about being the one you’re choosing to be with when so many other men thirst over you.
“What the fuck took you so long to get here?” he rasps.
“Did we make an appointment?” you flirt. He grips your thigh hard, biting his bottom lip.
“Get up,” he says, shuffling beneath you. Excitement tingles through you as he stands and takes your hand to lead you through the groups of rowdy people.
On the way upstairs, a guy stops Rafe asking to buy a gram, but he only pats his shoulder and tells him he’ll find him later. You’re his priority right now.
His bedroom is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the beach. You can only hear the waves and faint music and your own heartbeat as Rafe shuts the door, making sure to turn the light on.
He’s going to see all of you this time, with no dim club lighting shadowing any part of your body.
He immediately pushes up against you, his groin at your ass.
“Take it off,” he mutters. You’re used to undressing for men, but doing it for Rafe is ecstasy. You can’t wait to feel him inside of you.
You hike up your dress and pull it off to feel his hands on your bare skin immediately. He’s rough as he squeezes your tits and trails a hand down between your legs, pressing his fingers up against you.
“No stupid fucking rules here,” Rafe says.
“Not like you’d follow them.”
He smiles. You’re right. He’s been looking forward to fucking you how he wants you to. The handjob last night was mind-blowing, but he wants you entirely, to absolutely ravage you.
Arousal twists inside you as he rubs the tips of his fingers up and down over your panties.
“Bend over,” he orders. You obey, feeling his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you down. You put your hands on the plush rug.
Your legs are spread and your ass is in the air as he pulls your underwear down to your knees. His hands run over your bare cheeks, then spread you open.
Rafe exhales sharply. You’re fucking perfect. He lowers onto his knees and when you feel his tongue against your cunt, you tremor, almost losing strength in your legs.
“Don’t move,” he says against you. With your hands and feet on the floor, he starts to languidly lap at you. His tongue dips and glides, his breath hot against you with his fingers still digging into your flesh.
You’re dizzy. From the pleasure. From the way your body is bent over. From the ache you feel for him.
One of his hands slides off your ass, and within moments, you feel two of his fingers push into you.
“Shit,” he groans in a whisper. He starts to scissor his fingers, earning moans from you. “You’re so fucking tight. I don’t know if I’ll fit.”
From the way his cock felt in your hands last night, you’re not so sure, either.
“We’ll make you fit,” you say through shallow breaths. Rafe grins to himself. That was the best thing you could’ve said.
You feel him withdraw his fingers. The sound of him unzipping his pants makes you arch your back in anticipation. Big hands push your hips down to guide you onto your knees.
You bite your bottom lip, drunk on the feeling of his fascination with you. He’s going to take you right here on the floor; he couldn’t even wait another few extra seconds to get you on his bed.
Rafe strokes himself, hungrily looking down at your slick core. He pulls out the condom he was keeping in his back pocket specifically for this, opening the package and rolling it on.
You look back once you hear the crinkling of the wrapper.
“They make those in your size?” you purr, stroking his ego. At this point, you’re professionally trained in making men feel good about themselves, but right now, you’re genuinely complimenting him because you want to.
Rafe breathes a chuckle, his hand running up and down your back. He’s never had a girl flatter him like this. He’s not usually rendered speechless, but you have the power to do it to him.
He lines his tip up against you, his groin stiff, avidity consuming him. When he starts to push into you, he feels you tighten around him. He throws his head back with his mouth agape at the feeling of you squeezing him.
“Tell me to stop if I need to,” he says gruffly, slowly sinking in.
“Okay,” you breathe, his hands cupping your hips. The pressure is unreal as he gets deeper, and you feel your body tense.
“Wait,” you say, head hanging. You breathe in and out slowly, feeling his thumbs rubbing over your skin as he waits for you. After a few breaths, you’re ready.
“Okay,” you say. “Keep going.”
He continues to slowly dig into you and once he reaches in to the hilt, his hips against your ass, you wriggle to get used to him.
“Good?” he huffs.
“Yeah,” you say, rocking back. He smirks at the way you’re pushing against him. He pulls back, then drives back into you, pleasure filling him.
His pace quickens and soon he’s slamming into you, the sounds of your wet skin slapping together and your heavy breathing taking over the room.
Rafe feels nothing but pure euphoria as he fucks you, looking down at his cock disappearing into your perfect cunt. Your ass shakes with every thrust, reminding him of how you danced last night, of how he wants to keep coming to the club to watch the way you own the stage and writhe on that damn pole.
He cums in hard, long pulses, his fingers digging into your hips so hard that it hurts. Once he’s done, he watches the way your dripping cunt slowly wanes after being stretched out by him.
You turn to look at Rafe as he stands and pulls off the condom, his load pooled at the end of it. He is absolutely disheveled. His hair is a mess and sweat sheens his forehead.
“Get on the bed,” he says through heavy breaths.
You go to lie down on his plush sheets while he gets rid of the condom, and when he comes back, he lies on his front and immediately dips his head between your legs.
You arch your back and breathe out a sigh of surprise. He actually wants to make you cum, instead of only chasing his pleasure. You’re glad he’s not as selfish as his ego makes him out to be.
You dig your fingers into his soft hair as he runs his tongue up your middle. When he starts to flick it over your clit, he looks up to make eye contact with you.
The way your lips part and your brows furrow in pleasure is so fucking pretty to him.
You’re on fire as he licks and sucks, his hands resting on your inner thighs to keep your legs spread wide.
“You taste so fucking good,” he rasps.
“Yeah?” you moan, feeling like you’re withering beneath him.
“I’m the only guy you’re seeing, right?” he says, hopeful, already angry at the mere idea of you fucking around with other men.
“Right,” you say. He nods and continues to work his mouth on you, his jaw getting sore, until an orgasm rolls through you.
When Rafe watches the way you tremble and hears the way you whimper, he decides he wants to make you cum whenever he gets a chance to simply so he can watch you do this.
As you come down from your peak, Rafe takes out his wallet and drops a few $100 bills on the bed beside you.
“You don’t have to pay me,” you impulsively say. Damn. It might be stupid to turn down any money he’s willing to give you.
“I want to,” Rafe says to your relief. Maybe you’ll get used to his money, he hopes. It’ll keep you around.
He looks down at your naked body with a satisfied grin. He always thought you were hot when he saw you at parties, but had he known fucking you would be like this, he would have made a move a long time ago.
Or he’d have gone into that strip club much sooner.
He waits for you to get dressed before you head downstairs together. He continues to party and sell coke, not letting you leave his sight.
The following Friday night, you sit in the club dressing room, putting the finishing touches on your makeup before your shift.
When you step out onto the stage, you can’t see the audience clearly, but you know Rafe is watching. He told you he would be.
Rafe sits near the back, sipping a drink, watching you in amazement. You’re in a flimsy, sheer pink dress. It’s hiding absolutely nothing. He can’t believe he gets to fuck you.
This is a new, conflicting sensation. He likes that so many men want you and only he gets the satisfaction of being inside you, but so many eyes on you makes him jealous at the same time, like these strangers even imaging fucking you is too much.
Maybe he can’t take this like he thought he could.
He watches you writhe and grind and twist on the pole, his dick hardening. He’s definitely fucking you after you clock out.
When you saunter off the stage towards a booth of older men, something ugly twists in his stomach.
This was inevitable. This is your job. You’re going to dance on other guys. Of course you are. But nothing he tells himself makes it better.
Rafe can’t look away, even though he should.
You smile at the stranger, your hands on his shoulders as you say something to him. He watches the man dip a bill into your bra strap.
Rafe takes another swig from his glass, the alcohol cold in his mouth.
When he sees the man reach to squeeze your chest and you swat him away, rage consumes him. He stands up quickly, still trying to somehow restrain himself, knowing you probably deal with this shit all the time.
But the man tries to grab you again.
And that’s fucking it.
Rafe rushes to the booth and grabs the motherfucker by the collar, his fist meeting his jaw hard.
(part three)
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
And I Wouldn’t Marry Me Either
Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader
Synopsis: you release some songs about Tom after a disagreement ends in a breakup
Masterlist
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“Marry me.”
“Right now? But I just got comfortable.” Tom mumbled into his pillow with a sleepy smile.
“I’m serious.” You whispered through a laugh and shook his shoulder. Tom’s eyes slowly opened and he could see the blurry outline of you lying next to him in your bed.
“What?”
“I’m just thinking.” You began. “We’ve been together five years.”
“I’m aware.” Tom laughed and snuggled back into his pillow.
“So we should do it. We should get married.” You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him.
“We are married. Everyone knows you’re my girl.” Tom said without opening his eyes and pulled you into his arms. He tried to go back to sleep but you still wanted to talk.
“I know.” You laughed. “But I want to make it official.”
“What, in Gods eyes and all that? I didn’t think you cared about that.” He laughed dismissively and rolled over. You sat up fully in the bed and looked down at him.
“It’s not about that. I want the flowers and the dress and the rings. Don’t you want that?” You asked and shook him a little to clue him in that you were trying to have a serious conversation. You watched Tom shrug and roll onto his back to look up at you.
“I don’t know. I always found weddings kinda dumb.”
“What? What do you mean dumb?” You forced a laugh and tried to hide the disappointment in your tone.
“I mean, like, they’re not even legally binding. It’s this whole big celebration that people spend their life savings on just to get drunk and slid rings on each other fingers. You still have to go to the courthouse to get married and even that’s just a piece of paper.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” You laughed shortly and picked at your nail polish to look busy.
“I didn’t realize you felt a different way.” He said and rolled back onto his stomach. Tom closed his eyes to go back to sleep and you felt your heart sink in your chest. You got out of the bed and opened the curtains a little to distract yourself with the view. You touched the silky white curtains and smiled to yourself as you thought of all the pictures of white dresses you had saved on your Pinterest throughout the years.
“I’ve always dreamed of my wedding.” You said over your shoulder. “I think every little girl does at some point. Every rom com I grew up on ends with the perfect fairy tale wedding. I always wanted that. I wanted my happy ending.”
“But those are just movies. I bet half those couples wouldn’t last in real life.”
“But it’s sweet that they plan that special day together and then get to celebrate their love in front of all their family and friends.”
“Yeah, all that planning just so they can get divorced before the first year is up.” Tom snorted. “I think the whole idea of weddings are stupid. I mean, you spend all that time and money planning for a one day event that people will just attend for the free booze. Plus, women starve themselves for months and spend thousands of dollars on a dress they’ll wear once? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Tom.” You laughed shortly and folded your arms to glare at him. Tom sensed your tone and sat up in bed to pay better attention.
“I just think it’s all so ancient.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you don’t agree. Weddings cannot exist without all the bullshit sexist traditions. I mean, the white dress to symbolize the brides supposed purity, the father of the bride literally “giving her away” to another man after being asked permission to get engaged in the first place, and then to top it off with her taking his last name because she’s now his property or something. It’s all so trivial and perverse.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that. Those traditions may be rooted in old fashioned thinking but I think it’s sweet to ask for my fathers permission. And yeah, I do want my dad holding my hand and walking me down the aisle. He’s not giving me away to be another man’s property, he’s standing by my side as I enter a new chapter of my life. Which is why I want my mama right there on my other side. Plus, lots of people hyphenate their last names nowadays. It doesn’t have to be this monstrous sexism fest you’re making it out to be.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Tom frowned when you shut the door. You usually left it open a crack when you did your morning skincare routine, but today, you were shutting him out. Tom got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to see you. You didn’t look up at him as you washed your face.
“Come on. Are you seriously mad because I dissed your rom coms?” Tom said as he put his hands on your hips and kissed your shoulder.
“I’m not mad about that.” You mumbled and brushed him off.
“Then what are you mad about, sour patch?” He teased and kissed your shoulder again.
“I’m mad because I’ve been getting my nails done weekly leading up to our five year anniversary just in case you proposed and you just told me that’s never even crossed your mind!” You exclaimed as hot tears of embarrassment brimmed your eyes. You stormed out of the bathroom and when Tom processed what you had said, he followed after you.
“I don’t believe in marriage, okay? I think it’s unnecessary. Why can’t we just live like this forever? What’s the difference?”
“The difference is pretty big. But I guess you don’t see it like that.” You shrugged and kept walking away from him.
“Can you honestly tell me what would be different between us if we signed a stupid piece of paper at the courthouse or didn’t?” Tom said as he put his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place for a second.
“The difference is I’d be your wife and not just the pathetic girlfriend who stayed even though you didn’t lock it down.” You raised your voice at him and pushed his hands off of you.
“So you only want to get married because you care what people think? How romantic.” Tom rolled his eyes at you.
“That’s not the only reason. I want to get married because it’s important to me. It’s a public commitment where we promise to love and protect each other forever. I want that.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t need a ceremony to do that. I can promise you that right here.” Tom calmed down and took your hands.
“But that’s not special.” You sighed and withdrew your hands.
“If you don’t find that special then maybe you don’t love me as much as you think you do.” Tom said, immediately regretting it.
“What?” You whispered and looked into his eyes to see if he was serious.
“Look, darling, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I just don’t see the point in marriage. I don’t need to prove I love you with a ring and wedding. I chose to love you every day. That’s enough for me.”
“What if it’s not enough for me?” You genuinely asked him as you wondered it for yourself.
“Then maybe you need to stop being so shallow and materialistic and ask yourself if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to play out some childhood fantasy that you saw in a stupid movie.” He shouted.
You both instantly got quiet. You were quiet for a very long time.
“I didn’t even mean that.”
“I don’t even care.” Your voice cracked as you grabbed your purse and slammed the front door behind you when you left.
“Is this one okay?” Harrison asked, pulling Tom out of his daydream. He replayed that fight over in his head about a dozen times a day. If his mind wasn’t occupied by something at all times, he’d perform an autopsy on that last conversation with you to try and understand what he should’ve done differently.
“What?” Tom asked without looking at his friend. He was too busy staring at the seat you always used to sit in at the kitchen counter.
“Can I use this one?” Harrison repeated and held up a muted purple mug as the tea kettle went off in the background. Tom tore his eyes away from your chair and when he saw the mug, all he could picture was your lipstick stain that used to stain it.
“That’s Y/n’s mug.” Tom said, descending a chill over the room. Harry and Sam’s attention was caught and they looked at Tom to see where this conversation was going.
“Oh. Sorry. I’ll put it back.” Harry said and quickly went to put it back in the cabinet.
“It’s fine. She’s not using it.” Tom shrugged. Everyone looked at each other as the awkwardness became palpable.
“How’s she’s doing?” Sam asked and sipped his tea to seem less interested than he really was.
“She’s good. Shes been recording some stuff at her New York studio. New music and whatnot.” Tom replied. He didn’t know this because you told him. He knew this because he’d been stalking your fanpages for every possible sighting of you.
“Have you guys talked lately?” Harry asked.
“Not really. Not since she left.” Tom admitted without looking up at his friends.
“You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Harrison asked, worsening the icy tension. Tom froze at the question for a minute and then shrugged. He didn’t really know what the answer was. In the weeks you’d been gone, you’d make small talk sometimes about work and the weather, but it never went beyond that. It was more to be polite. You kept in touch enough to know what the other was up to on a weekly basis, but you both knew you were dragging out something that had died. You wanted Tom to just say it was over already instead of pretending everything was normal, but he was never going to do that.
“I don’t know. We left things kinda up in the air.” Tom replied. The boys exchanged glances and Harrison nodded to let them know he was gonna take charge.
“Up in the air?” He questioned.
“Yep. Up in the air. Ambiguous. Vague. Open to interpretation. Call it what you want.” Tom shrugged again like it didn’t matter, but it did.
“Well what was the last thing you said to each other?” Harry wondered.
“She said she needed some space and was going to New York. And I said okay.” Tom recalled.
“What about before that?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the days leading up to her leaving.” Tom replied and took a long sip of his tea.
“She didn’t speak to you?” Sam asked.
“She did.” Tom nodded. “Sometimes.”
“You didn’t speak to her?” Harrison asked, already knowing the answer.
“I didn’t have anything to say.” Tom shrugged. Nobody spoke a word, but all the boys were thinking the same thing. They knew how bad this was, and that it signaled the end of your relationship.
“What?” Tom asked when he noticed the shift in vibe.
“I’m just surprised.” Harrison shrugged. “You guys were never like this. I can’t even remember your last fight.”
“We didn’t fight. You can’t fight when you don’t speak.” Tom said with a sarcastic smile.
“You should call her.” Harry suggested. “It’s gonna be at least a week since she’s been there, right?”
“Four weeks.” Tom corrected without meeting anyone’s else.
“Mate, you gotta call her.” Harry said quietly and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.
“I can’t.” Tom shook his head.
“Why not?”
“She can’t break up with me if I don’t talk to her. As long as we don’t have that conversation, we’ll still be together.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Buddy.” Harrison said apologetically. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and looked at his friend with tears brimming his bloodshot eyes.
“I don’t know what else to do.” He said with a crack in his voice.
“Oh shit.” Sam said suddenly, getting everyone’s attention.
“What?” Tom asked.
“She’s dropping a song tonight. She just announced it.” Sam said and showed Tom your Twitter. Tom took Sam’s phone to read your announcement better. Sure enough, you had posted a picture of you dramatically lying across a piano bench with your left hand covering half of your face. You had a ring on every finger except for your ring finger, a detail that wasn’t lost on Tom. He handed Sam’s phone back and look at the floor.
“You didn’t know about this?” Sam asked, and Tom shook his head. He’d gone from being the first person you played every song for to finding out on Twitter that you had a song coming out.
“What’s it called?” Harrison wondered. Sam looked down at his phone to read the title and gulped.
“Who cares?” Sam forced a laugh and put his phone away.
“What’s it called?” Tom asked again.
“You Don’t Know Me Anymore.” Sam mumbled. Tom shut his eyes and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t even heard the song yet but knew it was going to be bad news.
“When does that come out?” He asked Sam.
“Midnight. Tonight.”
Tom’s friends stayed with him all day until midnight rolled around. At 11:58, Tom placed his laptop on the kitchen table and opened YouTube. He knew you always released lyric videos when you dropped a new song and he needed to reach every single world you said. When midnight came, he refreshed his screen and clicked on your video. The background image was a picture of you looking in a mirror with messy hair. You had digitally added sparkly, purple tears to run down the still image of your face. You played a couple notes on the piano before the lyrics appeared beside your face in your handwriting.
“I wish you’d just put me out of my misery
You already know I’m at your mercy
I don’t know why you’re dragging this out
You have all the power, if that’s what this is about
I’m not gonna be the one who walks away
So I need you to say what you want to say
I already know it’s over so just let it end
Please don’t give me the pity of asking to stay friends.”
“I don’t think we should be listening to this.” Sam said as he paused the video.
“Play it.” Tom demanded. Sam sighed and pressed play while the other exchanged looks.
“I’ve been feeling you leaving
I hate this part more than the ending
The moments leading up when I know your heart has changed
I don’t know why we keep pretending
If it’s done just say it’s done
Don’t just change your mind and not tell me
I already know so just let me go
Don’t just watch as I sit and bleed.”
“I don’t think-“ Sam began as he paused it again.
“Stop pausing it.” Tom cut him off. “Play it. I need to hear it.”
Sam pressed play again and Tom pulled the laptop over to himself so he could control it.
“Cause I cut my hand on that first crack in the glass
I feel the icy air between us when you pass me
So I took your chain off from around my neck
I’ll think of something else your initial can stand for
You don’t deserve to see me wearing it anyway
You don’t know me anymore.”
Tom didn’t realize he had started to cry until his tears his his keyboard. He couldn’t see the video anymore from his blurry his eyes had gotten. He wiped his face and leaned on his hands to give the song better attention.
“You know I would die for you in secret
Like that song I showed you in my car
I don’t think you even listened to it
You didn’t draw stars around my scars
You drew your arrow and let it fly
Right into my heart and let me die
Actually, I wish that was the curtesy you provided
Instead, you let this love become one sided
And now we’re shattered like a glass that was dropped
You broke my heart until the day that it stopped
You never got down on knee
Even when I crumbled onto both of mine
I wonder if you ever really wanted me
How did you think we were fine?
And at what part did you realize you liked the idea of me?
But who I actually am isn’t someone you wanted
I miss who I was before we met
Now I can’t go back, I’m haunted
And you were right not to marry me
If I could walk away from me too, I would
You were right to leave when you did
I know I would too if I could
But I’m stuck here with myself
Forever scratching and clawing at your door
Keep it all, even my memories
You’re lucky you don’t know me anymore.”
Everyone sat in silence once the song ended. Tom wiped his eyes again but tears just kept falling down his face.
“That probably wasn’t even about you.” Harrison said after a long beat of silence. Tom gave him a look before turning to his brothers.
“What do you think?” He asked Harry.
“It sounds like she’s hurting too.” Harry shrugged. “I think you’re both waiting for the other to say you’re broken up.”
“Well I’m not saying it.” Tom stated. “She has to.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Sam asked kindly.
“Then we don’t break up.”
“Again, I’m not really sure that’s how it works.”
“Well it’s what I’m going with. Because I can’t break up with her.” Tom sniffled and shut the laptop.
“But you can’t go on like this either.” Sam pointed out.
“She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Tom said, but no one in the room believed him.
And didn’t come home for a while.
After another week of silence, Tom flew to New York to see you. He got to your apartment and knocked on your door without any particular plan in mind. You opened it with a smile but when you saw who it was, you tensed up.
“Hi.” He said with a sad smile.
“If you came to to propose to me as some kind of grand gesture-“
“Please, let me talk.” He cut you off. You sighed and nodded as you leaned against your doorway.
“We have different opinions. But I don’t love or respect anyone more than you. So I am willing to hear your side, which is not something I did last time we spoke about this. I was just listening for what I could rebuttal against. I wasn’t actually listening to understand your thoughts and feelings. But I’m ready now.” He said. You nodded again and seemed to drop the wall that you had put up.
“It matters to me that we get married.” You told him. “I know you think it’s pointless and doesn’t change anything, but it changes things for me. If you picked out a ring, asked my parents permission, and got down on one knee, that would all make me feel special and loved. Those things matter to me in a relationship.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“But now you do know so if you propose, I know you’re just gonna do it to appease me. I’ll always know that you think it’s stupid when I look at the ring.”
“I admit that it found it a little dumb in the past. But it matters to you. And nothing that matters to you can be stupid.”
“I can’t get married to you knowing you don’t really want it. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” You said and went to close the door.
“But I can’t lose you. My thoughts on marriage literally do not matter to me in the slightest. If it’s important to you and if it is what it takes to make you feel special and loved, then I want it too.” Tom pleaded as he pushed your door back open.
“But you don’t want it. You just don’t want to break up.”
“I can put on a tux for a night and suffer through if it means that much to you.” He said with a slight laugh to lighten the mood. Your face changed and he had somehow made the situation worse.
“Suffer?” You asked quietly with a told of your head.
“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But darling, I’m saying we can get married. I’ll do whatever it is you want. Why do you still look so upset?”
“Because you don’t get it.” You shook your head. “And I’m afraid you never will.”
“What don’t I get? I don’t understand. I’m telling you I’ll give you what you want.”
“But you don’t want it too. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s the principle, Tom. Remember how disappointed I was that one time when I said I wanted ice cream so we went to the shop but you didn’t get anything? I didn’t mean I wanted ice cream. I meant I wanted us to get ice cream together so we could eat it and spend time together. This is like that but times a million. You can’t compromise on marriage. You either believe in it or you don’t. So even if we did get married, it wouldn’t mean to you what it means to me. I would always think back to that conversation we had and remember how you really feel about marriage. I keep replaying all the things you said that day in my head. We both know how you feel about marriage and we both know it’s not something you want.”
“So that one conversation ruined it for you? Completely?” He asked.
“Yes, it did.” You answered truthfully. You stared at each other for a minute as both your eyes welled with tears. You both knew you’d reached a stalemate and there was nothing more to be done.
“So what do we do now?” Tom asked without looking at you.
“I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You told him, making him perk up.
“So do I.” He smiled as tears rolled down his face.
“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked him. Tom froze and felt the situation escaping from him fast.
“We’ve been together almost 5 years, darling. That’s five birthdays, Christmas’s, anniversaries. You make up so much of my life. We’re exactly right for each other. It’s supposed to be you and me in the end. I can’t do this with anyone else.”
“And I can’t do this with you.” You laughed sadly and gestured to him. Tom’s heart dropped in his chest when it became apparent that this was more than just a fight.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“I think I am.” You nodded. Neither of you could believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but it was too late to take them back.
“Does marriage really mean that much to you that you’d rather break up instead of just living a long, happy life together?” Tom asked you.
“I guess it does.” You realized. He stood there in shock as you put a hand on his shoulder and brought him closer to kiss his cheek.
“Goodbye, Tom.” You smiled sadly at him and shut your door.
Another month went by and you did not come home. You busied yourself with your music and dove into your next album, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him on midnights when you were left alone with your thoughts. Tom thought about you a lot more often, like every time he saw your face on his TV. He tuned in one night to watch you debut your latest music video of your newest song. His eyes were glued to the TV as the video opened with your back to some brown eyed actor.
“You say “I don’t understand” and “I say I know you don’t.” We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.” You sang with your eyes glued to the floor. The setting changed and you were walking through an apartment that Tom recognized.
“She filmed this on Cornelia Street?” Tom whispered to himself and sat back on his couch.
“Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light.” A smiling version of you sang as she walked though the apartment holding the hand of the actor playing Tom. The setting changed again and you were still in the room, but the lights were off and you were sitting alone in the floor.
“Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.” You sang while not looking in the camera. The rest of the video followed in suit. You flashed between happy, golden hued memories with the actor to grey toned solo shots of you sitting alone at your piano or on the floor. The difference in the moods made Tom reminisce on the old times and he wondered how long it has been since he had made you smile the way you were doing in the video.
“Stop, you’re losing me. Stop, stop, stop. You’re losing me.” You sang while looking directly into the camera as a purple heart monitor line ran through the background behind you and eventually flatlined. Tom felt like you were staring right into his soul and realized this was the closest he’d gotten to making eye contact with you in a while. He watched the sad, grey version of yourself split from the happy version and suddenly, there were two of you on the screen while the actor playing Tom ignored them both.
“How long can we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?” The both of you sang while Tom’s counterpart read the newspaper and didn’t look at either. He thought of the days leading up to you leaving for New York where he’d be doing exactly that, reading the newspaper to pretend to look busy when he felt you glaring at him. He wiped his face and watched as the scene changed to the three of you at a party. The sad version of you was clinging to Tom’s counterpart defensively while the other version of you yelled at him with a drink in your hand.
“Fighting in only your army. Front lines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing as this party.” You yelled and drunkenly stumbled around while the rest of the party watched.
“You’re losing me.” The grey version whispered into Tom’s ear. He assumed that version represented the part of you that missed him while the other version represented the you that knew it was over. The scene changed again and this time, you were back in the Cornelia Street apartment with an open ring box in the center of the table. There was no ring inside, just a burning flame.
“And I wouldn’t marry me either. A pathological people pleaser.Who only wanted you to see her.” You said into the camera while Tom’s character threw things into a bag behind you and went to leave.
“And I’m fading thinking do something babe! Say something! Lose something, babe. Risk something. You’re losing me! Chose something, babe. I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” The grey version of you desperately said to Tom’s counterpart as she pulled on his arm to beg him to stay. It was like he couldn’t see her at all and just kept walking towards the door. The golden version of yourself opened the door and pointed for him to get out while the other version of you jumped in front of him and dropped to her knees to get him to stay. Tom’s character walked right through her and she faded to dust, leaving just the one version of yourself to watch him go. The music stopped and you ended up running after him, but he was already gone. You turned and ran down Cornelia Street but didn’t go back into your apartment. You just kept running down the street and turned the block so that the camera couldn’t see you anymore. The camera panned out to show the Cornelia Street sign and a violin version of your song by the same name played in the background as the street sign turned grey and faded into dust. The screen turned black and Tom was left alone in the silence.
After another month, he found himself outside your door again. He knocked on it and felt his heart pound until you opened it up.
“Tom? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you. I came to fix this.” He said simply.
“Tom, I don’t know that we can fix this.” You said apologetically. It felt amazing to see him, but it didn’t change the fact that you ultimately wanted different things in life.
“You were right. You can’t compromise on marriage. And you either believe in it or you don’t.” He began before getting down on one knee.
“Tom?” You asked skeptically as your eyes went wide. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it up for you.
“It’s your moms ring. Your dad gave it to her for the third Valentine’s Day they celebrated together in college. She doesn’t wear it anymore because it’s one size too small, so she gave it to me when I asked them for permission to marry you.”
“You asked them?” You smiled in surprise that he had done one of the things you said mattered to you.
“I did. It was a little awkward to find out your mother already knew all about our previous conversations about marriage so you can probably guess how confused I was.” He said with an embarrassed laugh.
“What did my dad say?”
“He said as long as I make you happy, he’s proud to have me join the family.”
“See? No one’s giving me away to anyone. We’re just creating a bigger family for the two of us.”
“I see that now. I see a lot of the points you made. And what your dad said got me thinking.”
“About?”
“All I want is to make you happy. Which is different from agreeing to things I don’t want to do to appease you. I do want to watch you walk down the aisle in a dress that’s been in your Pinterest board since you were 13. I do want to plan the seating arrangement and introduce my weird friends from college to your weird friends from college. I want to plan the entire thing because that’s something we can do together, and those are my favorite things to do.”
“What about the ceremony? And the marriage license? You don’t want those things.”
“I didn’t at first.” He admitted. “But after actually thinking about it and reevaluating the opinion I formed before I ever even had a serious relationship, I realized I feel differently. You make me feel differently. I would proudly sign my name next to yours on a marriage license. Because I happen to think our names look pretty good together. And as for the ceremony, I know we can’t compromise, but we can collaborate. It doesn’t have to be a huge blowout party. It can be the best elements of the both of us. And we can plan it together.”
“That all sounds very lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe in marriage just a few months ago. Am I really supposed to believe you’ve truly changed your mind? What if this is just some grand gesture to win me back that you end up regretting?” You asked him.
“I will never end up regretting promising my love for you in front of our family and friends. I’ll never regret hyphenating our names so that everyone knows I’m a part of a duo. I’ll never regret choosing to legally attach myself to my vets friend and spend the rest of my life with her. But I can tell you with the utmost assurance that I would regret letting you walk away and become a name I wince at for the rest of my life.”
“You felt differently not too long ago.” You quietly reminded him. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you couldn’t fully trust it.
“I changed my mind. I realized somethings are more important than other things. And that you’re more important than anything.”
Your skeptical expression turned into a coy smile as you slid your hand into the one that wasn’t holding the open ring box.
“You never actually said the words.” You told him, making Tom break into a relieved smile.
“Darling, would you make me the happiest man-“
“Eh. Try again. Too cliche.” You cut him off. Tom smiled and shook his head, knowing you weren’t gonna make it easy.
“My love, I don’t want to spend another minute as just your boyfriend.” He tried again.
“Lame. Thumbs down.” You shook your head and pointed your thumb down.
“Would you do me the honor-“
“Yawn.” You interrupted.
“Will you just marry me, you annoying brat?” Tom groaned.
“Tom! I thought you’d never ask!” You gushed over dramatically and put your hand over your heart.
“Is that a yes?” Tom asked as he stood up.
“I have to think about it. I don’t know if marriage is for me.” You shrugged as he slid the ring onto your finger. You looked down at the ring and remembered the time you tried it on as a little girl and how it didn’t fit your finger until now.
“Yes. I will marry you.” You smiled as you looked back up at Tom. Tom broke into a grin and scooped you up to spin you around.
“Sorry I wrote all those emo songs about you.” You said into his ear, making him laugh.
“It’s okay. It’s what you do.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he set you down. He then pulled you in for a long kiss to make up for all the time you were apart. When you pulled away, he pulled your face back towards him with his hands to kiss your left cheek.
“I see you.” He said, then kissed you right cheek.
“I choose you.” He continued, then kissed your forehead.
“I love you.” He said, the kissed your nose before looking into your eyes.
“And I know you.” He told you. You smiled softly and nodded your head.
“You do?” You asked him. “You really know me?”
“I do.”
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2K notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 26 days
Note
Heard you were in the mood for some yapping, so here I am lol! That Luke hugging blurb was everything! My supervisor decided that they weren't ruining my life enough, and now ask me to do something and have me completely redo it when I'm finished because they cannot decide on an aesthetic they want. So my daydreams are currently in a "stay at home girlfriend" era lol (please don't judge). Should you decide to quit and give yourself a few months Luke would be the happiest person ever. He gets all day every day with his sweet girl, his favorite person, his bestest friend. He gets pumped at every home game knowing you're there supporting, gets lunches with you to dissect practice or what you've been reading. You try to argue that since he's taken over all the bills, he won't buy you any gifts. He lasts two weeks before caving and buying you something "just 'cause."
“luke!” you screech from the kitchen, causing your boyfriend to come running, socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor.
“what? is everything okay? what’s wrong?” he rushes out, frantic eyes scanning you for any sign of a crisis.
when they fall on the large, open box on the island you’re standing behind, he knows he’s been busted.
“care to explain?” you cock an eyebrow at him, gesturing to the cardboard box.
luke rubs the back of his neck with his hand, thinking about how to drop the news without you blowing up.
“well…it’s a bag,” he starts slowly, walking towards you.
scoffing, you roll your eyes. “yeah, i can see that it’s a bag. care to explain why there’s a two thousand dollar designer purse in our apartment right now??”
when luke saw the handbag online the other day, he knew it was something you’d love.
you always talk about how much you’d love to have a good, quality purse, and he couldn’t think of anything better quality than designer.
with you having finally agreed to his offer of taking some time away from work, he was on cloud nine always having you around. he loved seeing you in his jersey at every home game (and several road games, too), and he loves how you meet him at the rink most days so the two of you can catch up over lunch or brunch, after morning skates.
one of the things he didn’t love about you not working, however, is the fact you told him no gifts for the time being.
luke has never been someone to spend his money on himself. he allowed himself a few frivolous purchases when he signed his rookie contract, but he really only spends his money on things he needs.
for the first few months of your relationship, luke refrained from buying you anything too crazy. a twenty for coffee here, a fancy dinner there, but nothing like what he started buying you once you knew he wasn’t just throwing his wealth at you.
he started showering you with random pieces of jewelry and trips and shoes and literally anything else he saw that he wanted to buy for you.
you told him to stop, once, loving how thoughtful he was and how well he knew how to pick out a gift for you, but you didn’t want him blowing through all of his contract money on you.
at first, he listened. the gifts stopped and you basked in your victory. but then, the gifts changed from physical gifts to trips, concert tickets, experiences.
as long as luke was able to experience the ‘gifts’ with you, you didn’t care to reap the benefits, because you could convince yourself he wasn’t spending his money on you. you were just a tag along on plans he wanted to do himself.
“you did say you wanted a good bag to use, so i thought i’d surprise you,” luke shrugged, hoping if he doesn’t make it a big deal, you won’t think it is one.
“yeah, i was thinking something along the lines of a tote bag, maybe a leather backpack, not this,” you hold the bag up, refusing to take it out of its protective packaging.
“well, this is good quality. and it’ll last you a long time, so really it’s something you specifically talked about needing,” luke defends himself.
groaning, you start pacing in frustration. “luke, we agreed when i took time off that the money you were spending on me had to stop. you’re already funding my existence right now, so there’s no reason for you to spend any more money on me than is absolutely necessary.”
luke walks over towards you, stopping your pacing. “honeybee, calm down. i was just trying to be nice. you seemed a little down lately so i wanted to surprise you with a little pick me up.”
you take a deep breath, calming yourself down. you’re not trying to be a bitch, because you do like the bag, you just don’t want luke wasting money on you now that you’re not contributing to any of the bills.
“luke, a ‘little pick me up’ is a coffee, or some ice cream. not a handbag that costs more than what i used to make in a month,” you place your hands on luke’s forearms, his hands resting on your shoulders while he’s crouched down to be eye-level with you.
“well, in all fairness they were grossly underpaying you at your old job,” luke ignores the point of your statement, earning another roll of your eyes.
“luke,” you warn.
luke stands tall again, letting out a sigh of defeat.
“you’re right. i should have asked you first. i’m sorry,” he starts, looking up at the ceiling. “but i’m not sorry that i bought you something nice that you genuinely need, even if you think it was too expensive,” he finishes, looking back down into your eyes.
you let out your own defeated sigh. the bag is really nice. and you couldn’t have picked out a more gorgeous one if you tried.
“just…don’t go so swipe happy next time. if you want to do something nice for no reason again, candy will work just fine,” you step back from luke, grabbing the bag again, allowing yourself to actually unbox it this time.
“no promises,” luke winks at you, walking around the island so he can see the awe on your face as you inspect the bag, knowing the matching wallet is already set to be delivered later this week.
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buckets-and-trees · 1 year
Note
"You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself."
👀👀👀
Well... as you know, this escalated quickly.
Title: Sacrificial Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: If it seems too good to be true, it always is. Always. Too bad you had to go to the remote jungles of South America to learn that lesson.
Content/Concept Warnings: DARK, lulled into a trap, human sacrifice, dubious consent/fuck or die, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, monster fucking, face fucking/oral male receiving, vaginal fingering/fisting, breast worship, rough fucking, possessive/pet, praise kink, dirty talk, cum play, marking, cream pie, choking
Additional Notes: Thoty time with @rookthorne... she's only responsible for enabling me when my monster thirst reared its head. Wicked entry for @buckybarnesevents WEEK ONE of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Wear?" and my third square of @buckybarnesbingo K1 "Fuck or Die."
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When you told your friends, family, and former colleagues about the research grant and fellowship you had been awarded in the weeks leading up to your departure that it was too perfect, clearly somewhere deep in your bones you had known.
Eighty thousand dollars a year for three years, travel covered, visa approved, fully furnished accommodations provided, and a book deal for the discoveries and research studying flora in a largely undocumented and remote part of the jungle on another continent.
No scientist got a deal like that.
The only downside was the isolation of the location. They had electricity and running water, but you would only be able to go into town for internet every few weeks.
But the part of you that had grown up watching Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, LOST, and the deep space missions of Star Trek who had far too many plants in your apartment and in your tiny office at the university had beat back that downside. It was only three years, and after living through the strange isolation of the pandemic, you knew you could manage this where you wouldn’t be isolated from people, just for short stints from your old life.
And though you had good pieces and good people in your life, you were desperate to get away from the suffocating societal expectations you felt like you weren’t living up to while so many others around you were – marriage, kids, white picket fences, career accomplishments, tenured professorships, promotions, raises, overnight influencers, travel vloggers.
This was something no one you knew had ever done.
Everyone raved about the adventure ahead of you.
Everyone had been impressed.
You had conquered in the accomplishments department with this for the year, no question. Your older sister with her third child on the way and your younger brother and his Premiere League football contract could wallow in your shadow.
This was a golden opportunity for a research botanist still in the early years of their career.
Kneeling on the ground in the middle of the jungle with your hands folded in your lap, head bowed, surrounded by a village of people who all should have known better than to follow ancient superstitions, with a dozen or more guns trained on you in nothing more than lingerie, you were living a nightmare.
All of it had been a baited trap.
No one would even question you falling off the grid before it was too late, and even if they did, these villagers could say one day you never came back from the jungle.
And it would be true.
One afternoon and evening, a good dinner, a sleep you’d yearned for thinking it was the jet lag, and then you’d awoken screaming as the first strip of wax had been ripped from your skin to discover you were naked with a half dozen people attending to all aspects of your grooming, preparing you to be their human sacrifice for the beast that lived in the jungle.
You were past the crying and pleading.
The no WIFI had been a lie, too.
Everyone in this small village looked and acted like they lived in the present day except for this one thing.
The belief that if they did not provide the beast his human sacrifice that they would not survive his terror.
“Then why don’t you just leave?” you had implored.
“This is our home, our loved ones are here, our ancestors are part of this place, and,” their leader and the head of the research foundation paused – almost faltered before continuing to explain, “the sacrifice of one stranger will guarantee us safety for many, many years.”
Everyone else had been instructed not to speak or listen to you from that point on in the preparations.
Nails trimmed, buffed, shined. Luxurious oil that smelled delicate and heavenly rubbed over every inch of your skin from the neck down. Hair partially braided to stay out of your face with the rest left natural. Color applied to your lips. They didn’t bother with eye makeup. No jewelry.
You had been wrapped up in a linen garment that was not quite a robe but not quite a coat to be transported to the ruins of an old stone dais in the thick of the jungle but deprived of it and then pushed onto the sacrificial area, left only in the sapphire silk of a bra and panties delicately lined with lace.
After hours being poked, prodded, and prepared by strangers in a strange land in a state of dread and disbelief, you thought you were numb.
You had endured too much to think you were hallucinating, but that you now all waited illuminated by literal torches with fire made this seem almost like a season of Survivor gone horribly wrong.
But then you heard the hushed wave of whispers at the rustle and rumble of something approaching through the thick vegetation of the jungle and adrenaline shot through your veins. It didn’t inspire fight or flight. You were frozen, fixated on the beast that would finally appear and seal your fate any moment now.
It made no attempt at arriving quietly, and when it finally appeared, there were collective gasps and cries from the people gathered to watch the sacrifice, though no sound fell from your lips.
The reaction was more than warranted, and a whisper of a thought flashed through your head that you were surprised no one had screamed. Maybe they were too terrified to scream, worried they would draw the beast’s attention. You wanted to scream, but your chest was gripped in fear.
The thick, furry legs of a bull, down to the cloven hooves, and a girthy tail with a tuft of dark hair at the end, swishing slightly as he walked. There was a loincloth tied at his waist that – rather than providing modesty – inspired anyone whose gaze lingered there to imagine the bulge nudging conspicuously beneath. Not that anyone’s gaze would linger there for long, for the rest of him was altogether imposing. Only the tallest of the villagers might hope to measure up to the base of his sternum – the sternum that anchored the torso of a man with shoulders more than twice the width of a human. Skin golden from the sun stretched over muscles that burst and rippled over his chest and shoulders, extending down his arms. You could see a litany of angry scars littered up and down his left arm.
Great bull’s horns rose and curled out of his head, possibly longer than your own arms. He had a mane of long, glossy but mostly unruly brown hair, with a couple of braids, that fell past his shoulders. Though the rest of his physique inspired fear, the true terror was perhaps the face of this man beast – it was terrifyingly handsome. Strong jaw, stubbled beard, a crease between his brows, and piercing blue eyes. His expression was drawn into an ominous grin.
He was in no rush as he walked into the ring of the villagers.
“Weapons down,” he growled.
There was almost no hesitation – their purpose had been to keep you in place anyway. Though the fear in the air was palpable, the tone of it seemed to be turning to some sort of reverent fear now for everyone else.
What inspired this unquestioned obedience from an entire people? People you’d seen with smart phones as abundantly among them as any other place on earth, though you’d been advised to shut yours down and leave it behind since it would be of next to no use to you in the jungle. They were right – but had left out the true reason and made it even more believable for you to seem only cut off to those back home, not lost and gone forever.
His enormous legs took the step easily up onto the dais, and his eyes were now fixed only on you. He stopped at the foot of the altar where you were presented for him.
“Well done,” this was meant for the people and their leader.
Then he reached out and the fingers of his large hands traced the strap over your left shoulder, then along your jaw, tilting your chin to look straight up at him. “And your choice is set?”
“My – my choice?” your voice cracked, but you felt it was a miracle you even found it.
Your confusion must have been evident, as his eyes flashed with anger and her rounded on the man who had facilitated all of this. “You did not tell her anything, did you?”
“I thought it best if –“
“It is not your job to think. The thoughtlessness of your people is why we’re here at all,” he snarled. Then he turned back to you.
“No time for stories now. I’m a minotaur called Bucky; a lost soldier cursed long ago to this state. Suffice it to say II must be satiated or the village will be subjected to bloodshed and desolation in the face of my wrath. They’ve chosen you, but you can choose your fate: fuck or die. I’ll take your throat, or I’ll cut it and drink your blood in front of everyone.”
Your chest heaved in trepidation. “How is that a choice?”
“Is it not clear to you?”
“Have others chosen death?”
He nodded. “Or they refused to choose.”
You opened your mouth then closed it again.
“Do you wish to die?”
You thought your tears were spent, but you could feel them welling in your eyes. “No.”
“Then claim your choice.”
You took a shaky breath.
“Say it!” he barked.
You flinched, but managed to spit out, “Fuck.”
“Perfect. Open up.”
“In front of everyone?” your voice was barely above a whisper.
He nodded. “They will remember and mark this sacrifice. It will be the reason they continue to breathe.”
You spread your knees a part so you were still kneeling and sitting back on your heels but his to take like this.
“That’s nice but not what I meant.” He tugged his loincloth and dropped it to the ground. You whimpered, afraid of the enormous size of his cock and ashamed at the lick of heat that flared in your core at the sight of him. He leaned down closer, put a hand at the back of your neck, and slapped the side of your face with his rigid length. “You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself.”
This drew a handful of muted gasps from the onlookers. You saw a spark of something new in his eyes at this reaction.
He was pleased at their reaction.
You dropped your mouth open for him, nervous knowing you could not take all of him, embarrassed to be on such display in front of these strangers, but wanting to please him.
Wait, you thought, wanting to please him?
He shoved his cock into your wet mouth, shoving any other thoughts immediately out.
“Suck.”
You did.
“Just like that,” he said. The hand on your neck moved up to cradle and command the back of your head. He slowly began to fuck your mouth but with only a small motion, encouraging you to continue sucking just that first bit of cock as it was in your mouth. He still was in no rush. It felt like a power play – not wanting to show impatience or lack of restraint in the onset of this sacrificial claiming.
As he continued to speak now, his voice was low, intended for you. “Get ready for more.”
You looked up at him and tried to nod your head ever so slightly. He smirked, then he brought his other hand up under your jaw and to your throat, wanting to feel himself using you. He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. His tip hit the back of your mouth, and you spluttered. He pulled out slightly, giving you half a moment to recover, then forced the point again, holding himself there while you adjusted. He opened his eyes again, locking back onto yours, and a thrill of terror shot through you again. That was only the preliminary.
Now he would truly begin.
That look was all you got. Keeping the one hand at your throat, the provided the anchor to begin truly fucking your throat, not in a rush, but he picked up the pace. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself. Your muscles initially gagged in protest, but he persisted, stroking your throat with his fingers as well, coaxing you to relax. Tears spilled down your cheeks. You concentrated on breathing through your nose and the steady gaze he kept trained on you. Soon you were taking more of him than you thought you could. He quickened his thrusts into your mouth. Your fingers stretched into the fur on his hips, mewling as he continued to use your mouth.
A few short grunts with the last thrusts were the only hint before he came, shooting his hot spend in your mouth with an unrestrained howl that shook the crowd to their core. There was no way for you to swallow everything, but, if anything, seeing his cum spilling down your chin made him grin.
Then he raised his head to address the villagers. “Remember that you gave this human to me. I will do with her as I please, and you will never see her again. Hope that you never see me again in your lifetime,” his voice carried, his power unquestioned in the clearing. “If you are lucky, the children you left home today will not see me in their lifetimes either. All of you go now. What happens next is not for your eyes.”
They followed his instructions without hesitation, all of them eager to be gone from this cursed place and their collective and ignored shame.
They left the torches – no desire for a souvenir.
And now you were alone with him, the light of the flames flickering over every inch of your exposed skin – which was almost all your skin, the lingerie only for show.
With the hand that was still anchored at the back of your head, he roughly angled you up sharply to look directly up at him, and tipping his own head forward he loomed in all his height above you, a truly searing heat in this look. “I meant what I said: you are mine, and I will never allow those vile villagers to see you again. You’re mine to do with as I please.”
He stooped down to claim your mouth in a kiss. His large thumb brushed the remaining spend from your chin and then moved down your throat to brush it over your collar bone, rubbing it in. He pushed his tongue between your lips, and you opened your mouth for him again. His tongue was too big for your mouth, too, but the more he subjected your body to the largeness of his being, the more you seemed to seep into him. He used his tongue to wrap around and tangle with yours, stroking it with his, now and then slipping it further down your throat, teasing, choking, mimicking the actions of his cock not long before.
When you were truly gasping, he chuckled darkly and pulled away, you leaned forward, lips chasing his, and then you shook your head, trying to restore some logic.
Failing.
Bucky easily tore away your bra with his brute strength. “Lay back for me, lamb.”
You shifted, legs aching from resting on them in that kneeling position for far too long. He noted the care you took in moving your limbs and rubbed the muscles up and down a few times. Then he pulled your hips to the end of the alter, flush against his cock, which was already semi-hard again. You hummed as he pushed against your still-clothed core.
His hands moved from your thighs up your sides, stoking the desire surging through your body, moving up your waist, thumbs brushing up against the underswell of your breasts, then flicking over the nipples, bringing them to little peaks before diving down to lave one of them with his tongue and suck, rolling, twisting, and pinching the other with his hand. Then he moved his mouth, and as he latched on to the other nipple, his hands worked the lace and silk panties off your hips and down your legs before tossing them away. He rutted up against you again, slow but persistent pressure against your core again, but now with no barrier he felt your arousal slicking up your entrance. When you began working your hips against him, seeking more friction, fisting your hands into his hair, he moved a hand between your legs, stroking over your labia and pushing one of his fingers right into your cunt, making you keen immediately from the force and fullness.
“Going to ruin you, lamb, but don’t want to hurt you.” He was brutal, but only because he was a monster by nature, not because he was heartless. “Gotta work your tiny pussy open so you can take me like you were meant to.”
As before, he was patient, making up for the impatience mounting inside you as he worked his fingers into you, circling, questing, stretching, twisting. When he pushed three fingers in he could tell it was a lot, but he knew he needed you to easily receive four if he was going to get to fuck you on his cock the way he wanted. All through it, he was relentless in overwhelming you in other ways, continuing to worship your breasts, but also murmuring praises against your skin, and threatening and promising filthy things that you couldn’t even respond to.
When you were thoroughly primed, aching for him, a mess with tears and begging for him, he finally realigned his hips between your legs, forcing your thighs wide to accommodate him. He bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing clit a couple of times, making your whimper repeatedly. You were lost as you lay splayed out above him, eyes tightly shut, hands reaching for him, desperately pleading his name over and over. He bent down to you again, relishing the feel of your breasts brushing against his chest for one more moment before sinking his cock into your cunt with a brutal thrust, pushing clear to the hilt, making you scream. It was wicked, and he knew it, but also knew how much he had worked up your body and your mind, and he was rewarded as you arched beneath him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, adjusted your hips, and then rocked against him, clearly seeking more.
Holding you at the precipice of pleasure for so long meant you crashed into your first orgasm very quickly as he pushed his cock in and out of your, “tight heat, little lamb, taking me so well,” he cooed. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering as he fucked your through it, groaning at the feel of your walls around him. “No one else will ever have this cunt now,” he vowed. “You’re mine.”
“Mine,” you echoed without thinking, not knowing it was exactly how he wanted his pet to feel about him. He pushed you over the edge into another orgasm and then spilled his hot seed inside you not long after. You were beyond spent, at that point, and less than a minute after he scooped you up, tucking your legs around his waist, you dropped out of consciousness, and went totally limp. He kissed the top of your head, then shifted you to sling you over his shoulder for the trek to his lair – your home. He’d secure you there, then go back to the get the wooden crate of the belongings you had shipped ahead of you and the bag you had traveled with – both were supposed to be deposited and waiting in a cave, the final part of his negotiations for acquiring his new human from that village and their foolish leader. Humans were delicate creatures with peculiar needs, after all, and he was determined to keep you content and fucked out until you were devoted to staying with him until the end of your days.
But the last hour had exceeded even his own expectations. He suspected he wouldn’t have to try very hard to keep his little lamb.
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NEXT PART: Do You Remember
"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest
brief insight into what reader's life is like now
physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky
easy and challenging parts of writing the fic
the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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hotwaterandmilk · 18 days
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I was recently fortunate enough to win an auction for a piece of Wedding Peach merchandise I've been unsuccessfully trying to win online for years (at this point, literally decades) and it got me thinking about how lucky I am to not be starting my collection today.
Prices for all older, more obscure magical girl items have ballooned over the past ten years but Wedding Peach merchandise is definitely one of the worst offenders. It's not uncommon to see single manga volumes going for 10k yen, 20k yen or more for the picture books, and let's not even touch on the amount the toys go for (literally several thousand dollars a pop).
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In an ideal world we'd have better access to the series itself at least (the Japanese release of the DVDs and manga, for example, are in high demand due to the manga being out of print for something like 28 years and the DVDs being a relatively limited run from 25 years ago). I understand it's unlikely that we'll be getting more fun toys or merchandise for the series, but it is truly bleak when people can't even access the series itself.
This isn't some lost media type thing, this is just capitalism and it solidifies why I feel a sense of duty to ruin my own collection in order to archive what I have. If my house burns down or washes away in a flood, I truly don't think I can restart my collection and have a fraction of what I have now ever again. It's too expensive and too time-consuming, I simply don't have another 25 years up my sleeve to dig through every possible website to try and find scraps of 90s Ciao magazine issues.
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In that sense I feel like I should share what I have with others while I have the opportunity. Even if a teenager today falls for Wedding Peach like I did as a kid, they would need to be extremely wealthy to get these pieces together and I just don't think your ability to own the core of a series should come down to wealth alone.
Goodness knows I'm not wealthy and I had very little growing up, hence my collection took decades to get where it is now. I don't want people to have to endure all that just to see a picture book from 30 years ago or to see an obscure illustration from a Ciao paper bag given away for free in 1994.
The efforts of fans keep series like this alive long after most companies have dismissed their long term profitability (although I do see you Germany with your beautiful hardback manga editions and I thank you).
Not everyone wants to break down their collection for the benefit of others and I respect that (there are some things in my collection I don't want to pull apart either), but I appreciate the efforts of those who do and aspire to do better with my own archiving as I work to get Weddingpeach.net updated to celebrate 30 years of the manga series.
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sleepysnk · 1 year
Text
a/n: hey everyone! i’m so excited to bring this piece to you all. this goes along with my sugar daddy collab! <3 i hope you all enjoy this! 🫶🏻
pairings: kokonoi hajime x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, smut, sugar daddy!koko, age gap (reader is 21 and koko is 25), oral sex f!receiving, mentions of oral sex m!receiving, unprotected sex, use of pet names (baby, pretty thing, baby girl, good girl, princess), some degradation, light choking, car sex, edging, creampie, possessive behavior, kinda angst (?), very fluffy koko.
synopsis: you’re a college student looking to buy the things you want. koko comes to your aid and is able to grant you every wish you desired. from handbags to makeup that was worth more than anything you owned, he gave you it all. you have a long list of items, but what happens when you ask koko for his debit card and not just one item?
head over heels ft. kokonoi hajime
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Your eyes shifted over the many items in your shopping cart. The time displayed on your laptop screen showed that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. You were fully aware that you should have been peacefully sleeping in your bed by now, but you were far too deep in your shopping to even think about any shut eye. 
Summer break was fast approaching and your university classes were soon coming to a close since the end of the semester was nearing its end. With that idea in mind, you grew sort of lazy and only did so much homework before feeling completely burned out. It was a common occurrence with many students your age. Your brain knew that the end was coming, so it set you into a certain mode where all you wanted to do was shut down and not do anything else. It was difficult, especially for the professors. However, you were passing all of your classes with high A’s and you had no reason to panic. You always kept up with your schoolwork like any proper student would, and now you were celebrating with a little retail therapy.
With break on the horizon, you had the desire to buy new things. Whether it was new clothes, a fresh new set of shoes, or just some makeup, you wanted to splurge a little. It wouldn’t hurt to have some new additions to your closet, right? 
Unfortunately, like many students you attended college with, you were quite broke. You had a part time job, but none of that money was able to go to things you wanted. You often had to save your checks for proper necessities like groceries and gas for your car. Sure, your roommate assisted with food and other things along those lines, but you didn’t want her to bear the brunt of it all. In the end, you were only left with a good one hundred fifty dollars. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would have close to two hundred, but those weeks were rare. It was difficult to save, but the circumstances were never in your favor. You honestly couldn’t wait to graduate, but that left you with debt that would take you years to pay off. 
Now while that did stop you a majority of the time, you had an alternative option for buying the things you wanted. 
A little over three months ago, you and your friends were all hanging around inside your dorm. Your conversations were casual until your friend, Emma, had suggested downloading this app that involved meeting sugar daddies. At first, you were completely blown away by your friend's statement. You and your friends tried to protest that the app was probably a scam, because you had seen those types of things happen before. You’d offer them your banking information and then all of your funds would be taken from you in the matter of minutes. Plus, there were tons of weird men on those kinds of apps. Sometimes they would completely lie about their status just to receive whatever they wanted. Emma completely shut you and your friends down, and offered proof to help her case. When she brought it to the table, you were astounded. There had been multiple men that had sent her almost a thousand dollars each. She even claimed some didn’t ask for naked photographs, and they just sent it with zero hesitation behind it.
At first, you were stunned. 
Of course, that kind of offer seemed almost unnatural from how Emma made it look. A majority of the time those people were scammers or they wanted some kind of sexual advance for payment. Nowadays you couldn’t trust such a thing, but Emma had the proof. There were men sending her all kinds of money, and to be honest, you wanted in on that. You would have to do some digging is all. 
Once your friends had gone back to their own dorms, you decided to download the app. You chose some nice photos of yourself for your profile and began swiping on the plethora of men on your screen. It was almost like a sugar daddy tinder. For the first few minutes, you were met with lots of older guys. Some of them could have been your fathers age, so that’s why you decided to change your age range. Though, you had lots of discouragement for a while. A majority of the guys were genuine catfishes and you could tell by their profiles. The obvious cropping and misinformation was a clear sign of that. Some of them seemed like genuine creeps too. The one that looked promising almost always had a flaw along with them, and it was becoming quite annoying. How did Emma manage to discover the right men? This had to be pinned against you because all of the sugar daddies on that app were fucking weird. 
To be frank, you had started to believe that it was unlikely you’d find anything promising. The men you did have conversations with were disgusting or it was obvious they were trying to steal your debit card information. 
That ultimately changed when you came across a certain profile that seemed almost too good to be true.
Koko, 25
You were just about to delete the app when you came across the man’s profile. It was already almost two in the morning, but you were enthralled by the man on your screen. He was quite handsome and he seemed to live a very luxurious lifestyle. Your eyes widened when you saw that he was sitting on a Mercedes with many other cars beside it. He was so dreamy with his black and white hair that was dyed in different sections. There was a single earring that hung from his right ear, and there was even a photo of him sticking his tongue out. He owned more than your college tuition and car payment combined. It was hard for you to believe that a man like him was on such an app, but the most shocking thing was that he was only five miles away. Meaning, he was very close to you. It almost seemed like a fucking trap with how perfect it looked on the outside. There was no way this man was real. Behind the screen, there must have been a fifty year old man sitting in his crusty boxers. 
Despite that, you took a risk and swiped right on the man. 
You went to bed and didn’t ponder the app any longer. You assumed that if he was real, he probably wouldn’t bat an eye at you. He’d just keep swiping and leave it as that, right?
Wrong, so very wrong.
The next morning, you awoke and checked your phone as usual. You had notifications from your friends or random emails from your professors, but what you didn’t expect was a message from that app. 
Koko sent you a new message!
Your heart dropped inside your chest when you saw the message for the first time. You thought you were just having a dream, but Koko had actually messaged you. You immediately went to open it and see what he had said. You were honestly expecting one of those usual scam messages that are insanely filled with random emojis, but it was the exact opposite of that.
Koko: hey pretty thing <3 
For a little while, you contemplated replying to him. He could be a catfish for all you knew. He could also be trying to sweet talk you into taking your money, so you had to play it cool. It took you a while to actually trust the man behind the screen, but he eventually shared his phone number and the two of you began to frequently chat throughout the day. Koko had revealed he was a businessman. He never specified what it was, but he informed you that he made lots of money and he wasn’t married so there was nothing to spend it on except for himself. He was about four years older than you. The only reason he joined the app was to find someone to share that cash with, and that’s exactly what the man wanted to do with you. Koko also proved he wasn’t a scammer by any means and he would be willing to buy you whatever you wanted. 
But, at a price.
Koko had proposed a deal for you both. He had no problem being your sugar daddy by any means. He told you that if there was anything you needed from him, he would buy it with no hesitation. However, he wanted something in return. There was a reason you were his sugar baby. 
Koko offered to give you what you wanted after you had sex with him, or gave him something in exchange for your item. He told you that the higher the price of your gift, the higher you would have to work to receive it. It was quite a shock to you to hear such a thing, but you did want a sugar daddy. Koko had even mentioned he would never force you into a situation that you didn’t want, but he wanted you to keep your end of the deal no matter what. At first, you were unsure of it all. He was a handsome guy, he made lots of money, and all you would have to do was fuck him to have anything you so pleased. It was nerve wracking, though. You were going to be intimate with a man who was older than you, and he was going to give you anything you wanted after? There was a lot to ask, but you weren’t sure how to bring it up.
After a long phone call with the man, you had fully agreed to the terms he set for you. Koko had also explained to you that if at any point you would like to terminate it, he had no issue with that. You were relieved to hear such a thing. At least he wasn’t some deeply obsessed man who wouldn’t let you go if you asked.
The very first time you wanted to buy something, you were nervous. You were on Sephora, browsing the different eyeshadow palette’s or lipsticks you thought would fit nice on your skin. You had placed a few items into your cart. Your eyes drifted to the total and your chest practically started hurting the moment you saw it. It came out to $157.67. Part of you wasn’t so sure if you should ask Koko. It was his money, and you would always feel bad whenever any friend or family member spent money on you. You knew you wouldn’t have to give Koko a single cent back, but what would he say? There was a chance he would laugh at you and say no to the offer. It would piss you off, yes, but that thought was lingering in the back of your mind. You hesitated to send him the message with the total, but you eventually pressed send and left your phone to sit and wait. Your heart was racing so fast that you thought you would have had a heart attack back then. 
Within minutes, you received a reply, and his response made shivers ghost down your spine.
Koko: send me a video of you fingering yourself <3 and send me the link afterwards
After a long while of internal panic, you eventually sent Koko the video. There was silence for a little while on his end. You hoped that he didn’t somehow block you or he just lied to get what he wanted. There was a chance Koko had completely set you up, and he was going to steal the video for his own personal benefit. God, you prayed that wasn’t the case. 
Though, after ten minutes, Koko replied with a screenshot of your order. He also praised you for what you had sent him. He claimed you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid his eyes upon, and those comments made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. For a man who was only supposed to be your sugar daddy, he seemingly had a lot to say about your appearance. You weren’t complaining about that factor, though. You would have much rather had him commenting on that than being a weird creep asking for more. He was gladly proving himself as a respectable man, and you had gotten a new present out of it. You were very satisfied with that, and all of those worries that had you anxious disappeared once he shared that he had purchased your makeup. 
You frequently sent nudes to Koko for whatever you wanted. You began receiving many gifts and random packages that filled your room quicker than you had expected. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that Koko was spoiling you rotten with his money. He didn’t seem to have much of a problem with that either. Any time you would protest, he would shut you up by sending you random payments. You could never argue with him either. He was quite stubborn at times. 
Eventually, there came a point where you both desired to meet one another.
He planned a nice date for you two. He offered to pick you up and he even proposed the idea of taking you shopping afterwards. If you didn’t have extra studying to do, you would have taken the opportunity to go and buy some things with him. However, you declined due to your own personal things. You were very nervous to meet him. This would be the first time you saw him in person, but you had this urge to finally see the man who had been giving you money. You were all over the place when the evening arrived. When he messaged you that he was outside, you almost completely chickened out and told him you didn’t want to anymore. However, with the help of your friends and your roommate, you were able to face Kokonoi Hajime in all of his glory. 
You didn’t expect to see such a fine man, but what you weren’t expecting the most was sleeping with him that night.
The dinner had gone quite well between you both. Koko was polite, handsome, and overall a gentleman with you. The place you went to was divine and you would have never expected you would have eaten at such a great restaurant. 
Things quickly changed once the two of you had gotten into Koko’s expensive BMW. The atmosphere had shifted and there was this ache that formed between your legs. It could have been the aroma of his luxurious cologne, or the way he gripped the steering wheel as he drove. It honestly felt like this man had casted a spell on you. You just couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him at the red light. One thing led to another, and you ended up in Koko’s high rise apartment with your legs thrown over his shoulders. The sex you both indulged in was like no other. Koko wasn’t anything like those lame college guys you hooked up with. He showed you what it was like to actually fuck someone, and it only left you craving more of your sugar daddy. He worked wonders on your body, and he knew exactly where to touch you to have you melting within his grasp. You only craved more of him as the days went on, and eventually, you two started seeing one another more often. 
Whether it was giving him a blowjob for a new pair of heels, or letting him eat your pussy until you made a mess on his face, Koko was intoxicating and you only wanted him at the end of the night. 
You chewed on your bottom lip at Koko’s contact. You had no idea if the man was still awake at this dead hour. However, you decided to snap a photo of your total and message your sugar daddy. If he didn’t see it at that hour, he would probably see it the next morning and decide what to do. 
You: koko, i want these
You: [image]
You clicked your phone off and sat there for a few minutes. There was silence from your phone, so it was just a waiting game. You hoped he was awake but you weren’t forcing a response right away. You were very patient with him. Koko had a busy lifestyle, so it was understandable if he was exhausted after a long day. 
Those thoughts you had were interrupted by the vibration of your cell phone. You reached for it and was surprised to see that Koko had texted you back. 
Koko: for sure baby
Koko: you better let me pick you up 🤍 that price is high 
Your eyes grew wide at his request. It was late, very late. Your roommate was asleep in her bed already and you technically weren’t supposed to be wandering campus at that hour. Sneaking out wouldn’t be that difficult, but knowing how Koko was in bed, you knew you wouldn’t be home the next morning. Usually, you would decline and say no, but you hadn’t seen Koko at all much recently. Not gonna lie, you needed your fix of him and you wanted to see his handsome face. It wasn’t like you could message him randomly to fuck. He probably wasn’t into something like that. 
You: okay
You: atp i deserve your debit card 🙄
You were joking when you sent that reply, but you brushed that aside to go and prepare yourself for what was to come. Koko didn’t live very far from your university. He worked in the city which was not a far drive from campus, but you hardly drove there unless you absolutely had to. Koko also would pick you up. He honestly considered you his little passenger princess because of how often he would come and get you. He always picked you up in a different vehicle, though. Sometimes, he would let you pick the car he would drive you around in. It was such a luxury being Koko’s sugar baby. You couldn’t ask for anyone better.
You paused in your motions when your phone vibrated again. You grabbed it off of your bed and stared at the new text messages Koko had sent to you. 
Koko: my debit card? you really want that baby?
Your eyes widened at his reply. As much as you wanted to say no, having his card on you would give you easier access to getting the things you wanted without having to wait. 
You: i was kidding haha
Koko: i’m serious
Koko: do you want it? i don’t mind handing it over
Shock coursed through your veins at his reply. You said that as a joke, yet he sounded incredibly serious about it. You could never take Koko’s debit card like that. He often told you he had many due to having such an incredible amount of funds, but having one sounded dangerous. Though, it sounded like such a great idea. 
You: really??
Koko: yes princess
Koko: but that’s a serious trade.. if you want it you know you’ll have to pay up.
You knew full well that’s how the deal worked. He wouldn’t give away something unless there was a price at hand, which was understandable. You wondered what that might be. Koko could make sex more intense depending on the price of the item you desired. Usually, anything above two hundred was always going to involve a meet up. Whether it was just oral sex, or actual fucking. You fully assumed now that Koko was going to ask to meet up. You had no issue with that, of course, but the thrill of the situation made your thighs clench together. He was a man full of surprises. He showed you things in sex that no other man was capable of, so this could be a situation you would never forget. 
You began typing a response to the man. It was already nearly two o’clock in the morning, so you had to make a decision quickly. 
You: okay, i want your debit card koko
Sending that message was the reason you were in the situation you found yourself in now. You should have expected Koko to be the person he was, but you hadn’t expected him to pull over into a parking lot after he picked you up. You were in the backseat of his Mercedes with your thighs spread apart and his face deep between them. His tongue was buried into your pretty cunt that he had been wanting to taste for the last two weeks. Fuck, he missed you so much. He never could properly admit it out loud, but Koko wanted to see you more often than he should. You were always engraved in his mind at work. He would often fight with himself on sending you a message about your day, or simply asking what you were up to. He shouldn’t be thinking that way, but you were too difficult to resist.
Your head was lying against the cushion of his seats. Your fingernails tugged and pulled at the strands of Koko’s dual colored hair. One thing about Koko was that his head game was one of the best. He slurped and sucked on your clit with such ease, and it drove you up the wall. There was nobody else that could make you feel the way Koko made you feel. “K-Koko..! Ah.. yes! Right there!” you wiggled your hips upwards to gain more traction against his tongue. You were getting lost within him. All you could think about was him and only him.
The man shifted his eyes up at you. His pupils were slightly dilated from lust, and the pure sight of you made him only more turned on. Koko honestly couldn’t believe that such a fine woman like you ever gave him the time of day. You were perfect in every aspect. He couldn’t ever imagine himself involving another woman, but you. He honestly wondered if you felt the same way about him. In some ways, he hoped that deep down you did. Koko liked to believe that he gave you it all. He spoiled you rotten with his money and gave you all the sex you desired. He didn’t care what it might be. He would do anything for his precious sugar baby. “Yeah..? That feel good, baby girl? Heh.. you always taste as good as you look.” he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit that was swollen. You were a dripping mess when he took your panties off. It was amazing what he could do to you in just a matter of minutes. His presence alone winded you up.
He then attacked your cunt once again. His tongue swiped over your sensitive bud, earning several sharp gasps from your lips. He lapped up any slick that appeared on your pussy. He was practically eating you like you were his last meal. Koko was making you feel like you were on fire. His actions were the very thing igniting that spark within you. He could only smirk at the delightful noises that were slipping from your throat. He could listen to you like a song on repeat. 
Koko’s cock was aching inside his sweatpants. It was taking all of his strength to not completely ravage you, but that need was there. He was begging to be freed from his boxers that felt like they were closing in on him. Koko’s hold on your thighs tightened and his tongue began to move quicker, sending bolts of electricity along your abdomen from the pleasure. Your breathing had become quite heavy and your hold on his hair had tightened. He could tell that you were absolutely enjoying yourself right now. It only stroked that ego he had deep within him. He averted his gaze for a brief moment to stare at your stunning features that were twisted with pleasure. The expressions on your face made him smirk while he ate you out. He couldn’t wait to be inside of that pussy he loved so much. He craved you more than he would like to admit. Sometimes, he would find himself jerking off to your videos or photos you had sent him. His fist never compared to the way your pretty cunt would suck him in.
You were close, so fucking close. Koko could make you cum by just eating you out, which was honestly a talent. The knot inside your belly was tightening with every motion of his tongue. All you sought was that burning desire within yourself. Koko could tell by your body language and your voice that you were about to reach your peak. He wasn’t ready for you to cum yet. He wanted you to be wound up just a bit more before he’d allow that to occur. Plus, you were only ever allowed to cum on his cock.
Koko then retracted himself away from your cunt. A mix of his spit and your slick covered his chin, to which he wiped off with his hand. You whined at the loss of contact, and the denial of your orgasm. He could be so unfair sometimes with you. “Koko.. I need you..” you took his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together. 
He could see the desperation in your eyes, and in your voice. Koko then kissed your palm and smiled at you with those nice teeth of his. He thought you were so cute like that. All whiny and needy for him to be inside of you. He wasn’t going to let you wait any longer, because as much as it sounded selfish, he wanted to fuck you too. It had been far too long since the man had played with his favorite girl. He missed you more than anything else, and all he wanted was your presence near him. “I’m here, baby.. don’t you worry.” he then leaned down towards your lips, pressing a small kiss onto you. It was sweet, and tender.
Koko pulled away after a few seconds. He then began to untie the loops of his sweatpants, pulling them downward so he could free his cock that had been aching to be freed since he took you into the backseat. Some pre-cum leaked from the tip, which he wiped off with his thumb. He tossed them somewhere in the front seat and plopped down in one of the seats. He motioned for you to come towards him. “Come here..” he patted his lap, eyeing you like you were his prized possession. 
You sat up, maneuvering yourself onto his lap so both of your thighs were on either side of him. Koko’s hands settled on your waist, taking in the touch of your soft skin. He could never get enough of how delicate you felt underneath his fingertips. It was like he was touching flower petals, silky and smooth. You were the prettiest one in the garden though. Koko positioned himself at your soaked entrance. He glided his tip against your folds, causing you to softly moan from the friction. You were so fucking wet. He loved seeing what he was able to do to your body. Seeing you up above him made his heart swell with warmth. You were like a goddess in his hands. He couldn’t believe that someone like you wasn’t in a relationship, or at least talking with someone. You deserved love. 
Could he be the one to grant that?
After some small teasing of your slit, he pushed himself inside your pussy. The two of you let out noises at the contact. Your hands squeezed at Koko’s shoulders, holding onto him as he guided your hips onto his cock. You were so tight. You hugged his dick so well that he could almost moan from how great it was. He never got tired of how your cunt felt. “Koko..! So big.. fuck..” you looked down at his shaft that was filling you up and stretching you to almost your limit. He was big, probably the biggest you’ve ever taken.
Once he was fully bottomed out, he began to thrust into your cunt. The angle was just perfect for him. Your tits were practically in his face, and every little movement caused them to bounce. If he could, he would tape every single moment of your sexual encounters. He could watch them like movies and be able to recall every little detail. Koko groaned at how nicely you sucked his cock in. He held your hips firmly and would occasionally squeeze the plush of your ass. You were just too fucking good. He never was exhausted of fucking your brains out. You were completely in utter bliss. This felt much different than before. You weren’t sure why. You assumed that maybe it was because you were both fucking in his car or maybe because you hadn’t seen Koko in weeks, but that didn’t matter. All you could focus on was the gorgeous man who was buried into your guts right now.
Koko’s pace began to increase. He found it much harder to hold back now. He had these urges that needed to be released, and after all, you were going to earn his debit card once this was all set and done. He wanted to fuck you so good that any time you stared at it you would remember what he made you feel that night. “Fuck.. so good, baby.. takin’ my cock so well. You’re such a good girl..” he gritted his teeth. “You’re my good girl, yeah? Tell me baby..” 
You stared into his lustful eyes. The pleasure in your gut was so good that you were beginning to lose focus on the situation. He was grabbing and touching you in all the right spots that made you like putty in his hands. “Mmph! Yes.. ah! Yes, Koko..” you whined, pressing your forehead against his. 
The heat inside of the car began to gradually increase from your actions. Sweat was clinging to your skin, and some of Koko’s hair was sticking to his forehead. Neither of you gave much care to that fact, because you were too lost in the moment to even think about that. Koko couldn’t help but stare at you. Your pretty face was all contorted with euphoria and your gorgeous body was so smooth within his hands. He couldn’t think of a greater image. He knew the night he fucked you for the first time that he wanted to see you again. He didn’t want someone like you to slip through his fingers, so that’s why he continued to pursue you. There was so much to like about you beyond the sex. Your personality, your smile, that beautiful laugh. He could name so much more, but it’d take him years to finish. He knew it wasn’t right. Thinking of his sugar baby as something more, but he couldn’t help himself. You were a drug he couldn’t stop coming back to.
Koko’s hand went to wrap around your throat, keeping your head in place so you made eye contact with him. He squeezed slightly, blocking some of the air from entering your lungs. Your nails scratched into his skin from the lack of oxygen. “Shit.. so fucking good f’me..” he looked into your cloudy eyes. “Fuck.. you like being my slut..? Whoring yourself out for my money.. fuck, I love spoilin’ you, princess..”
All you could do was nod and let out a small whine. He then released your throat and smiled to himself at your reaction. He knew no matter what you would always love spending his money on shit you wanted. He didn’t care how much it was either. He loved what was to come before the purchases. Though, the after made him even happier. Seeing your smiling face when he buys you gifts makes all the darkness in his day disappear. “K-Koko..” you leaned your head downwards so it was now buried into his shoulder. “Fuck.. love being y-your slut!”
Koko couldn’t hide the smirk that had written itself on his features. Of course you loved it. You always slithered back to him and that’s exactly how he knew. He decided to speed things up and begin fucking you at such a rough pace. His tip rapidly pressed against your g-spot, making white stars appear in your vision from how intense it was. 
It was moment’s like this where Koko didn’t want the night to end. He wished he could fuck you like this all of the time, but that only happened whenever you needed something. That was the deal, after all. He didn’t want to overstep your boundaries and possibly cause problems in your agreement. Koko had his urges, though. He wanted to randomly arrive at your place and just have you all to himself with no sort of item being the sole reason why. It sounded selfish, he was well aware of that, but you were the first girl to ever want to see him for a date rather than just a hookup. Sure, sugar daddies often treated their sugar babies to dates at divine restaurants, but to Koko that was something special. He knew that you probably thought of it as something common, but he never did that with just anyone he came across. Dates, sex, money, all of those things could make Koko easily attached to somebody else. Despite his brain telling him not to, he wanted you. 
He wanted you all to himself. 
He knew thinking such a thing was wrong, but the thought of someone else spoiling you with their money angered him. Seeing your body in all its glory and only toying with you made him want to go after whoever that might be. He was the only one who should be giving you the things you wanted. He should be the only one pounding your pussy until you’re almost squirting onto his cock from how great it is. You were his sugar baby. You shouldn’t rely on any other man but him to give you what you need. 
Koko reached forward to hold your face with his one hand, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were half-lidded and you had this gorgeous fucked out expression on your features. His eyes flickered from your face then towards those glossy lips. “You’re mine.. right, princess?” No one is better than me..” his voice was deep and sort of hoarse from how much he had been groaning and grunting. 
Your walls quivered around his cock, earning a breathy chuckle from Koko. He didn’t think you would have such a reaction, but it turned him on so much. You liked when Koko was possessive over you. He had no idea, but he was for sure going to use that to his advantage. You were making such a mess on his dick too. “Y-Yes, Koko! All yours.. ah!” you nodded your head vigorously at his question. You only desired more from the man. He was making you feel things that nobody else has ever made you feel. 
Your orgasm was creeping up on you. The pool of heat inside your gut was reaching its boiling point, making you all the more needy for Koko. He could feel your walls clenching and closing around his cock, making his own pleasure increase from how tight you felt. His favorite part was watching you reach your high, because your reactions were just so sexy. He loved making you cum like the little slut you were for him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, allowing him to fuck himself upwards into you at that same pace that would send your mind into a frenzy. He was abusing your g-spot only allowing his name to slip from your plump lips. His balls were smacking against your puffy clit, making all kinds of lewd noises inside of the car.
Koko leaned in and captured your lips onto his. A sloppy kiss erupted between the two of you. He swallowed down any moans that came from your throat. He almost chuckled again when he felt you struggling to kiss him back. You were both chasing your releases, becoming so desperate for one another. Koko almost bit down on your lip from how close he was, but he refrained and pulled away. “Gonna cum..? C’mon, baby, cum on my fucking cock..” he leaned towards your ear, nibbling on your skin. “Shiittt, ‘m gonna cum inside this p-pretty cunt, pretty thing.”
You let out a cry of pleasure as soon as that knot snapped. Your orgasm hit you hard. Your whole body trembled and shook, sending shivers down your spine. Koko squeezed your hips hard enough to leave bruises when he reached his own climax. The way your pussy spasmed and clamped down on him made his high come faster than he had expected. His cum filled your walls, creating a mess that consisted of your arousal and his around his cock to make it seem white. 
You let yourself slump onto his body. The two of you panted, trying to recover from your orgasms. A layer of fog had blanketed the window and both of you were quite messy. Koko rested his arm around your waist, placing his chin atop of your head. In all honesty, he didn’t want to let you go home yet. He wanted to sit there for a few minutes just bathing in your embrace, because he knew the moment you went home he would go back into his empty bed and imagine you lying beside him in his sheets. He also feared possibly staining the seats of his car by pulling out, so he decided to just keep himself inside you for a little while. Neither of you had anywhere to be at that moment. 
There was a comfortable silence that surrounded you. It was broken when Koko cleared his throat and reached for his wallet that was in the pocket of his sweatpants he had discarded earlier. He opened it and removed his debit card from the many spots he had in his wallet. He also reached into it and pulled out several one hundred dollar bills. “This is for you, baby.” he then reached under your shirt and shoved the bills into your bra. He also slid his debit card along with the cash. You were surprised to see him put them there, but it was Koko of all people. He always had the ability to catch you off guard.
You looked down at Koko. You seemed quite tired and he could sense it from your lazy body language. You were so cute when you were sleepy. “Thank you, Koko..” you touched his cheeks with your hands, rubbing your thumbs against his skin. A smile made its way onto your features from his gesture.
He pecked your lips, bringing your body closer to his. Your touch made him melt from how warm it was. “Anything for you..” he buried his face into your neck, inhaling your natural scent. His mind only thought of you for the rest of the evening. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would see him as someone more than just your sugar daddy.
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The classism in the "music gear" scene is fucking atrocious. So many people will shit on other people for using affordable gear as a way to justify within themselves that dropping $3,000 on a guitar was a smart financial move.
About 3-4 years ago I joined a band and a month after I joined we went on some video podcast. Play a few songs, do an interview, something I've never done before but it seemed like it'd be fun.
I wasn't able to really get a word in during the interviews (stuttering/speech impediment/anxiety issues ran wild) but I was able to speak up whenever the host went around and asked us what our favorite instrument/gear brands were. Weird question, but alright buddy.
I've always been a fan of cheaper gear. You don't need all sorts of expensive shit to get the sound you want. So when he asked my answer was "Squier" and the dude just started laughing. Because who possibly would prefer one of the cheaper brands??? (Keep in mind this douche had a whole wall of the absolute worst looking collection of custom shop BC Rich guitars you've ever seen.)
Eventually he backed down once I started arguing with him about it, but his immediate elitist attitude really struck a cord in me because I see that shit all over the internet in music communities. "Oh you only like Squiers/Epiphones/Harley Bentons because you can't afford BIG BOY guitars like a $5,000 Gibson".
Fuck right off with that shit. Why would I pay thousands of dollars for a guitar when I can get something that works amazingly for me for just a few hundred dollars? The extra money I save by not dropping 4 figures on a guitar or amp goes towards paying my bills, feeding my kids, just trying to fucking live and exist.
At this point I've had to sell 99% of my music gear after over a decade of following the gear chase. I only have a "cheap" acoustic I bought several years ago for $350 and it's the best guitar I've ever had. I love my little busted neck Hummingbird to death.
I'm much happier now than I was when I had a huge assortment of pedals and guitars to choose from. The Gear Chase is designed to make you want to spend more and more money in an endless pursuit of finding that "perfect" piece of gear. Guitar companies, partnered youtubers, influencers, and all sorts of advertisement campaigns are purposefully trying to misguide you into thinking you NEED their product. It's marketing and capitalism at work and so many musicians fall for it every time. I fell for it for years before I got completely fed up with it.
Go out and gig with your Squier Bullet Strat and a cheap amp you found at a pawn shop, fuck anyone that gives you shit for it. Go ahead and record with whatever you have at your disposal. Put out an album that's comprised of Voice Memos you recorded on your phone with just an acoustic and your voice.
Music, like any art, is about way more than what you used to get there. It's how you express yourself that really matters. Don't listen to the elitists and marketers telling you the only way you can authentically reach your creative vision is by buying their snake oil.
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slytherinshua · 12 days
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MY HEART RETURNS
summary. your love is pursuing his dreams as a violinmaker in italy, leaving you to wait for his return. genre. slight angst. fluff. based on whisper of the heart. warnings. some crying. reader feels lost and alone and like she's not good enough :( not proofread. pairing. zhanghao x fem!reader. wc. 1.3k. request. no. a/n. tiánxīn = sweetheart btw. ofc hao is already perfect for the role of seiji cause he plays violin (also he looks like seiji fight me). for all the other writers out there (even tho i don't ever plan to get properly published) we all relate to shizuku so much :') her struggles are so relatable and i just love whisper of the heart so much i think its such a beautiful and underrated ghibli movie. divider by @/aquazero.
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The night air nipped at your cheeks as thoughts swirled in your head. Hundreds of worries, feelings, and uncertainties followed you wherever you went, and all you could wish was to be back in high school when everything felt a bit easier. Back with Hao to occupy all your thoughts and in turn take your mind off of everything.
Sometimes you wondered if waiting was really worth it. You were doing your best to pursue your dreams, do well in your final year of university, and throw yourself and your work at different publishers, hoping that one liked you enough to give you a chance. But you felt like a constant failure in comparison to your boyfriend. You’d always thought opportunities were more beneficial than school. Hao only seemed to prove that to you.
He was working in Italy, getting valuable skills from the masters. You were still stuck in your hometown, going to the same university everyone else in your family had gone to, trapped in the same system. You wanted to get out, prove yourself, do something meaningful with your life. But did you even have the talent to? Were you even worth it?
On nights where your thoughts just wouldn’t leave you alone, you grabbed a handful of Hao’s letters and walked up the hill back to the spot where you used to watch the sunrise with him. You missed him more than anything. Without his presence, you felt lost. There was no one to ground you, no one to reassure you, no one to believe in your flimsy dreams.
You hadn’t received a new letter in a while, and you were starting to wonder if it was a post issue, or if Hao was too busy to write. You hoped you would get one soon. It was the start of Winter already, and a breeze blew past you, causing a chill to run up your spine. You hugged Hao’s old jacket closer on your body. It must be even colder in Italy…
You slid one of the old letters out from its envelope. You were always careful to keep everything intact. From the colourful wax seals to the elegantly written address, to the coarse texture of the fancy paper, everything about it was precious to you. Hao was always meticulous, and his presence could be felt from every detail of the card.
Tiánxīn, how are things back at home? Lonely. 
How is your writing? Did you finish the last 3 chapters you were struggling to write? I finished the final draft last Saturday. Are you proud of me?
I’m doing well here, although I never stop missing you. At least one feeling is mutual. 
It’s the beginning of Spring as I write this, and the flowers are starting to bloom. Every pink bud reminds me of you. How are you always so romantic, Zhang Hao?
I taught some kids how to hold a violin properly the other day— one of them almost dropped it. I swear my life flashed before my eyes. If they had broken it, I could’ve gotten kicked out. They don’t know that they’re handling a piece of wood worth thousands of dollars. As much as it scared me in the moment, spending time with the kids cheered me up. Childhood innocence is an endearing thing, don’t you think? It is. Is it bad that I wished you had gotten kicked out just so I could see you sooner? I want you to tell me everything about Italy with your own voice.
I’m starting to find beauty in things that used to annoy me. It’s a strange feeling, but I think I could get used to it. The flowers used to only make me sneeze, but now they’re a gentle reminder of who I’m living every day for. Children used to get on my nerves, but now I can only think of your baby pictures. I keep working hard every day hoping that I’ll get a break to come visit soon. I’ve been saving up for tickets. Hopefully before Winter, I’ll be back in your arms. It’s Winter now… I miss your arms around me.
Ever yours,
Hao
You could only sigh and blink back the tears that had formed on your waterline. Why did he make you miss him so much? You sniffed, from the emotions and from the cold. It was getting even later in the night, and while you didn’t want to leave your special spot, you also needed sleep.
When you got back to your cheap apartment, you sprayed some of Hao’s perfume on your pillow and changed into pyjamas. It was funny how much time went into hunting for the exact fragrance he wore; but you had been thankful for it every single day since you bought it. Any way you could to bring traces of him back to your home was worth it. You fell asleep hugging the pillow tightly and hoping that he would grace you in your dreams. 
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A soft puff of air hit your nose making you scrunch it up. It woke you out of your slumber, but not enough to open your eyes yet. You were in a confused bleary state trying to figure out where it came from. You definitely didn’t leave the fan on in the middle of Winter, so why…?
“Tiánxīn, wake up.” 
You blinked your eyes open slowly, furrowing your eyebrows as the view came into focus. Light from the morning sun shone through the window, cascading down until it hit the side of a face. Hao’s face.
“Am I still dreaming?” You whispered. A lump formed in your throat at the thought that you were— you must be. How could he be right in front of you? He was still far away in Italy.
He shook his head, a smile splayed on his lips. He moved closer, his weight dipping down on the bed. You could only stare, memorising everything about him. His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to your hand and he reached to hold it. His hands were warm and the skin of his palm was soft, although his fingertips were roughened by calluses after years of playing strings. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, brushing his thumb against your skin.
“I missed you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to come visit.” He frowned slightly as he saw tears start to build in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, as if still deciphering whether he was actually real. It had truly been years since he had first gone for his apprenticeship and then got accepted full time to make violins and teach. Although you had communicated through letters, it could never compare to being with him like this. 
“It’s okay.” You tried to steady your voice, force the lump in your throat down, blink back the tears. But you couldn’t with him right there.
“Don’t cry.” He wiped your tears carefully, his touch soft as always.
“Kiss me. Please?” 
And he obliged. He would always do anything within his power to see you happy. If you told him one day to fly to the moon and bring you back a piece of it, he was sure he would find a way, just to see you smile. The feeling of kissing him again was indescribable. You’d forgotten how it felt to be kissed by his soft lips, how they melded with yours like a dream. As if you two were meant to be.
You knew you always were. Your love story, although it sometimes felt tragic, was like something out of a fairytale. You would never forget the lengths Hao went just to get your attention. How ambitious, determined, and caring he was. He was your constant motivation to keep striving to be better. 
It was hard to live for your dream while being so far apart from him. Part of you knew that he would have to go back. Maybe in a month, maybe in only a week. Maybe sooner than that. Your heart would break once again saying goodbye to him.
But, for now, as he kissed you in the morning sunlight on your bed, you felt your heart healing from his touch. The long years away from him were a small price to pay for moments as precious as these. 
↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,
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adiproseprose · 1 year
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‘God, I can’t wait for you to explode’
‘Just imagine this helpless piggy too big to walk’
‘No doubt she’ll be immobile soon…’
The addicting tight rush of fullness settles in my bloated gut. My third straight pitcher of weight gain shake collapses to the floor, and I struggle to shake the numbness out of my toes. If I could see them I’d know they were swollen and startlingly red, but I can’t see shit past my massive tits, hanging low to the center of my belly. I sink back into the couch and rub myself off, sausage fingers snaking into my underwear. My chins serve as a resting place for my exhausted head. 
I’ve always been something of an extremist. There was a time where I would count the calories on a baggy of baby carrots. I was a whore in every sense of the word, skinny as a pencil and duller than an eraser. I didn’t need anybody, I had the attention of every boy I made eye contact with. Skipped college and became a model, traveled all over the world. If you want, you can get my before and after shots. 45 bucks a piece, 112 vrs. 675. 
Nobody pays attention to you when you’re fat. 
I kicked the ball down the hill when my agency fired me, parents claiming I was giving their kids bulimia or some bullshit. The ball began to collect years of sugar, fat, salt and grease, hardly able to get out of bed without a mouthful of fresh endorphins. My veins swelled with lard, stomach overstretched and doubled over onto my fat padded knees. 
It was all very discouraging at first. I heard the gossip as I toddled along to my convenience store for my nightly dinner of mars bars and oven fries, about how tiny I used to be, if I was really the same girl. ‘Nobody wants to rub out a fat girl’. 
I drank a lot. Partied a lot. Had a lot of shitty, desperate sex that ended after 4 minutes with a sigh and a cigarette. Then I met this guy. He grabbed my belly and afterwards told me I could make a killing if I kept gaining weight. I told him to fuck off but I looked into it. Feedism is a deep, dark, somewhat fucked up world. But money is green, so I did some analysis. What did they like about these women, big asses, big tits, double chins? These women are making thousands of dollars just to eat. 
I piled on fat like batter in a cake tin. I’m round up top, double belly and huge boobs. Thickness in my face that I don’t love, but my ass is rounder than the moon. 
“Ohhhh…fuck *HIC*...fuck me. I might’ve had too much, guys.” I whine to the camera. I rub and shake my belly. 
“BURRPPP!” 
I like to read the comments while I masturbate. I scroll, an endless stream of aroused fans. 
‘700 bucks if you do a fourth!!111’
‘7 HUNDO!!!!!’
Over and over again this bitch. I roll my eyes. “500 dollars for another one Mr…Pigfarmer?” 
‘YES!!!’
He donates. And I fix the shake on my coffee table, bringing it to my lips. I wince. I really do not wanna throw up. 
“Gonna do this for you, Pigfarmer. Whoooo boy..” 
I down the shake in maybe 2 minutes and let the empty pitcher land on the floor with the others. “So *huff* fucking…fat. Can barely get… off the couch anymore..ughhhh…” 
‘I will feed you until your fucking feet fall off’
‘I can help you off the couch!!!’
‘I’ll feed you and fuck you until you can’t move baby’
This isn’t enough. I need to be fat enough to where anything is monetizable. Walking out to the car. Going up stairs. I’ve made a few sets of my rolling out bed, when my joints are aching and my waddle is exaggerated the most. 
I don’t get much out of this besides the money. If anything, it makes me feel gross. But I blend in effortlessly, I’ve gone so deep. I’m not a feedee. I am a fat fucking whale who happens to be fat because it makes me ridiculous amounts of money. It makes it a lot easier to smile. 
“Alright, guys, I’m gonna hop off. See you guys next time!! Love you!” 
I click. 1700 dollars from an hour stream. Not too bad. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and drum my belly. I’m numb. I’m covered in grease, shake powder and cum. I can barely make it through my day without that tight fullness now. I wheeze deeply as I contemplate what to eat for dinner.
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xomakara · 1 year
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Inked By You
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SUMMARY |  You're best friends with Johnny and have had feelings for him for awhile. You think he's only attracted to you because of your tattoos but it's so much more. PAIRINGS | Johnny/Fem!Reader GENRE |  non-idol au, college au, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, fluff towards the end RATING |  Mature LENGTH |  10,114 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | This turned out longer than I expected LOL. So in this one, all the members I mentioned are the same age lolol. I hope it makes sense. Does it make sense?? I feel like my writing style has been wonky lately.
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“Those are real, aren’t they?” Johnny asked you as he leaned against your bedroom wall. Taeyong and Yuta were lounging on your bed before joining the party that was going on in your living room. Johnny was looking at the various tattoos that were on your left arm.
You and Johnny have been best friends since your freshman year of college. Although you both have very different personalities and interests, there was one thing that kept you close together: partying. It's your last year of college and despite all the stress from studying and taking exams, you still got together every now and again to do what you all did best.
Drink, dance, and make memories.
Johnny is wearing a silk button-down shirt and black slacks. And then there was you in a tight mini skirt and a one-shouldered top that accentuated your figure and showed off your tattoo sleeve.
You looked good.
Even though it wasn’t what most people would consider a typical Friday night out, you, Johnny and other mutual friends seemed happy enough as you stood in front of the mirror checking out each other.
That was until you caught Johnny staring at your body with an expression that suggested he wanted more than just a quick look. The silence between you both grew awkward and uncomfortable until you finally broke it by saying, “What? Are my tits distracting you or something?”
He snapped out of his trance with a surprised look on his face, causing you to smile. He quickly apologized for staring, but said that he was genuinely interested in your ink. You nodded in response, knowing exactly what he meant by that. There was no denying the amount of attention you always got when wearing a low-cut top or a revealing dress. Your tattoo sleeve was another story though. People either loved them or hated them.
Despite the interest from many men, you never really considered getting any more tattoos after you finished your sleeves because, frankly, your current ones turned heads even if you wore a burlap sack. It wasn't uncommon for you to get double takes from people you knew as well as complete strangers when walking around town. On top of that, you didn't want to mess up the awesome artwork that had already been drawn onto your skin. Your current sleeves represented some of your favorite memories, which you didn't ever want to lose. So while others spent thousands of dollars on inked bodies, you got yourself beautiful pieces of art that couldn't be taken away.
Still, you couldn't help but notice how excited Johnny appeared whenever he saw you in your sexy outfits. As far as you could tell, he never missed an opportunity to stare at your tattoos, or check you out whenever you walked by him. Sometimes you would catch him ogling you in such a way that you felt like he wanted to rip off your clothes right there in public. Of course, there was no way he'd actually do anything like that. He wasn't that kind of guy.
Besides, you knew for a fact that he had a girlfriend who also attended the same college as you. They had been dating for about a few months, so she was obviously important to him. Still, whenever he caught you wearing something tight or sexy, he couldn't help but show off those sinful eyes of his.
With everyone gathered in yours and Ten's living room, you tried to ignore the eye candy standing across from you as you and your friends continued to talk about meaningless things, like where you should go for dinner later tonight. You weren't even sure why you brought it up. Maybe you were bored, maybe you were drunk, or maybe you just needed something to keep your mind occupied. But whatever the reason, somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of sexual partners. When it comes to sexual encounters, your friends tend to live by the motto: if you haven't had sex with anyone, then you're not having fun.
You hadn't given much thought to that phrase until Jaehyun wiggled his eyebrows at you. "We all know that Y/N has fun doesn't she?"
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. "I've been told I have a knack for keeping people entertained."
"She can entertain me anytime!" Ten shouted. "Have you seen her ass in that red dress she wears?"
You couldn't help but laugh. That comment got everybody else laughing too.
"Anyways," You muttered before clearing your throat and turning towards Taeyong, "How many women have you slept with?"
Taeyong glanced over at Yuta and grinned, "Four, but it's probably more. Do you need me to give you a count?"
Ten let out a small laugh before replying, "Four isn't bad. Don't think I'll ever get that high, although the number would probably increase if Yuta would stop trying to fuck everything that moves. Especially anything that moves."
You burst out laughing, followed by Yuta who laughed even harder. Eventually Ten joined in, as did Jaehyun, and everyone else that was listening.
“But back to the question at hand,” Taeyong spoke up once he was able to calm down. He looked over at you, “how many men have you slept with?”
Johnny grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter and took a swig of it. He looked at you curiously.
"Well...if we include Jaehyun, Doyoung, Mark, Hendery and Renjun..." You counted, the men you called out looking at you for a brief moment before going back to whatever they were doing. "Five. But hey, who's counting? Sex is sex."
That answer seemed to satisfy Johnny, although he continued to watch you carefully. You noticed that he was taking an interest in your tattoos again. You shrugged it off as you and your friends continued talking, however your heart began to beat faster when you realized that he was no longer looking at your tattoos. His eyes were locked on yours.
"Hey guys,” Jungwoo called out to the rest of your group, waving a hand in front of their faces. “Who wants to get more beer and food with me?"
Thank you Jungwoo, for your timely interruption. You weren't sure how long you could last with Johnny staring at you. In fact, your knees started to feel a little weak when he cleared his throat to gain your attention. It was almost like he was daring you to say something. Something inappropriate, to be exact. But you had to be strong. After all, he was with his girlfriend.
"Uh, yeah," You replied, forcing a smile onto your face. “Let's go get some food and drinks."
You turned around, ready to follow Jungwoo into the kitchen. You paused for a second to take one last look at Johnny, and saw him watching you intently. You smiled sheepishly before stepping inside the kitchen to join your friends.
You turned around to see Johnny coming towards you. He didn't speak for a minute, so you waited patiently. "So, have you had fun yet?"
Your brows furrowed. You expected him to ask you if you were enjoying yourself. Instead he was asking you a completely different question. You wondered what this was all about, so you replied, "Of course I'm having fun! Why wouldn't I be?"
Before he could respond, Xiaojun called out. "Yo, Johnny! Jieun is here."
Fuck. Johnny's girlfriend.
You sighed inwardly as you watched him walk away with Xiaojun to greet her. If only he wasn't dating someone you actually knew. Then maybe he'd pay you the proper amount of attention. 
Oh well. No use thinking about it. 
You shook your head and focused on your friends. You hadn't seen them in awhile, so you welcomed the chance to hang out with them again. Plus, the alcohol helped to loosen your tongue, which allowed you to ask some of the questions you had been wondering about for quite some time.
"So, guys," you said, pouring some vodka into a glass. "Is it true that Renjun hooked up with someone last week?"
Renjun choked on his beer. You covered your mouth to hide your laughter. Kun let out a loud groan. Haechan let out a loud chuckle. Even Taeyong chuckled quietly.
You couldn't believe that they were being so open with you. It was like you were part of the group, and you liked it. You weren't sure if they realized that, but you were grateful nonetheless.
As soon as you saw Renjun regaining his composure, you spoke up again. "So, how many girls have you banged so far?"
Mark snorted. "Including you? Like eight or nine."
Kun guffawed. "More like twenty."
A shocked expression formed on your face. It was funny to hear their numbers compared to yours, but even funnier was hearing their reactions. Their reactions made you realize just how ridiculous their answers were. For example, Kun's claim that he had fucked more than twenty women in his lifetime was preposterous. However, you didn't dare bring it up.
Renjun shrugged. "I dunno. A lot."
Mark nodded. "At least ten."
Jungwoo scoffed. "No fucking way. Five tops."
"Bet none of those girls were as good as Y/N." Jaehyun reminded them, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes as he continued to talk. "And to everyone at this party that had sex with her, admit that she was good."
"I admit, I'm a good fuck." You shrugged, a small smirk on your lips. You nudged Jaehyun's shoulder. "Now shut up."
You all stared at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing. The alcohol was definitely starting to hit you hard, making you forget all about Johnny and his girlfriend. All that mattered was that you were surrounded by friends, having a good time, and drinking.
It wasn't long before Ten, Mark, Kun, Haechan, Taeyong and you were sitting on the floor, passing around beers and shots as you waited for Jungwoo and Yuta to return with the food. And even though you were tipsy, you managed to hold your liquor fairly well. Until you drank the tequila shot you took right before going to get more drinks.
“So, Y/N.” Haechan drawled out, looking at you intently. You glanced at the tequila in your hands, your vision getting hazy. How much have you actually drunk so far?
“What?” you asked, shrugging. “What are you talking about?”
Haechan frowned. "You okay? You look wasted."
"Yeah, you look wasted Y/N." Taeyong said, as he put his drink down.
Your vision was getting worse. You felt dizzy. Your body was hot, then cold, then hot again. Fuck, you were going to pass out if you kept this up. You reached for the bottle of water next to you, holding it tightly against your chest. You closed your eyes for a second, concentrating on slowing your breathing. You managed to slow it down a bit, but you still felt lightheaded. Before you knew it, your vision blurred again. When you opened your eyes, you found everyone staring at you. Except for Taeyong. He was standing in front of you, looking very concerned.
"Taeyong." You whispered, unable to form any words. He held out his arms, inviting you to step into them.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed." He said gently.
"Y/N." Johnny stepped forward, his face showing concern. His girlfriend laid a hand on his arm, suggesting that he stay put. "Are you okay?"
You nodded and stumbled, reaching for the couch, only to find it further away than you remembered. Without thinking, you leaned against Haechan instead. As you dozed off, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.
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"Johnny, what's wrong?" The pretty girl next to him muttered. "Is everything alright?"
Johnny watched from the corner of his eyes as his friends helped Y/N up from her drunken stupor. Was she okay? "It's nothing, Jieun."
"I hope she's alright." Jieun muttered, arms still clinging to him. "She seems so drunk."
"Don't worry about her, babe." Johnny assured her. "Just relax and enjoy yourself."
"Why are you always protecting her?" Jieun released a soft sigh.
"Because she's special to me." Johnny answered simply. 
He gave her a small smile before turning his attention back to his friends. He really missed the opportunity to spend time with his friends and Y/N.
He sighed. Of course he missed her. Even though he hadn't been able to spend much time with her lately, whenever they were together, they always had fun. She was kind and caring. Whenever they hung out, he felt a sense of comfort wash over him. It wasn't until tonight that he realized how lucky he was to have her in his life.
In the beginning, it was all easy. They met at a party thrown by their classmates. Since Johnny had recently moved to Seoul, most of his friends struggled to communicate with him. So when his friend Jaehyun told him about the event being held by another foreign exchange student, he figured that it would be a good chance to meet new people. Little did he know that meeting Y/N would change his life forever.
They hit it off instantly, flirting shamelessly. They had no problem joking around and teasing each other. At first, it had been innocent, simple conversations, whether it was about the weather or their favorite movies. They stayed as friends since Y/N was currently in a relationship, but every once in a while, they still got together to hang out. On those occasions, they spent their time watching movies, going to karaoke bars, eating out, and shopping. They had mutual friends who always seemed to drag them along to the hottest clubs and parties.
Those times together were always memorable. He remembered the time when he helped Ten and Y/N find an apartment together since they were going to be roommates. There were nights where Y/N had gotten sick from drinking too much, falling asleep on Johnny's chest. Or times when he found himself helplessly straddling Y/N as they snuck into his apartment. He never questioned the level of their intimacy; after all, Y/N was a beautiful, smart, and sweet girl. In return, Johnny was respectful of her relationships with other men.
But the thought of Y/N with anyone else made him physically ill.
For several months, things continued this way. Eventually, they both became more serious with their respective partners. When that happened, they had trouble finding time to see each other. The good news was that they'd grown closer, becoming each other's best friends. During those moments when they saw each other, they'd always make sure to give the other person plenty of affection. It was obvious that neither one of them wanted to lose their friendship. Still, it was difficult not to get hurt every now and again.
Johnny would often ask himself why he didn't act sooner.
What stopped him from telling Y/N how he truly felt? He knew that he was attracted to her, especially after seeing how they interacted together. She made him laugh, genuinely enjoying his humor. It was impossible not to notice how sexy she looked when she was laughing at his jokes. Plus, she smelled amazing. When he breathed in her scent, it reminded him of chocolate. Or strawberry ice cream. Something sweet and fruity that melted his heart every time he inhaled it. But still, he kept his feelings bottled up inside.
Today was no exception.
Seeing Y/N dress in that mini skirt and that top that accentuated her figure, he had to try hard to stop himself from kissing her senseless. Heck, he knew she had tattoos but at the time, there were only a few. Now she had a whole sleeve of them. All over her left arm. Most of them seemed quite intricate and detailed, depicting nature scenes, symbols, even people. She had an incredible eye for detail and, based on her art, Johnny guessed that she had a lot of patience. It was one of the many reasons why he loved hanging out with her. They could talk for hours, even if they had absolutely nothing in common. There was always an instant connection between them, almost as if they were two halves of a whole.
Johnny glanced over at Jieun, his current girlfriend.
No.
Just the girl that he’s currently just sleeping with.
Jieun was pretty, don't get him wrong. She had short hair and bright brown eyes, delicate features and a slender frame. But when compared to Y/N, she didn't stand a chance. Compared to her, Y/N seemed like a goddess. Y/N was tall, slender, toned in all the right places. She was tan, and had long, black hair that she often ran her fingers through. Not only did she possess all of the qualities that Johnny desired, but she also had a personality that stole his heart. For years, he had been silently pining for her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny the fact that she was perfect for him.
But no matter how much he liked Jieun, he could never forget Y/N. The truth was that Y/N was just so different from everyone else. She never hesitated to show her true self, whatever that meant. Whether she was crying over a sad movie or dancing ecstatically at a club, he knew that she wouldn't lie to him or hold anything back. Her honesty made her extremely endearing. She was funny and carefree, and unlike some girls, she had a positive outlook on life. If it wasn't for Y/N, Johnny doubted that he would've made it through all the crap he went through during college.
No doubt, Johnny had fallen for her. But he refused to act on those feelings. To do so would be unfair to Jieun, despite them not really dating. More importantly, Y/N deserved someone better than him. Someone who actually appreciated her beauty and unique traits. She deserved someone who loved her unconditionally and showed it in every aspect of their relationship.
Johnny watched as Jieun struck up a conversation with the other party-goers. His attention went back to Y/N and how drunk she looked earlier. He wished that he could've done something to prevent her from embarrassing herself. Y/N was the last person he wanted to hurt.
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The next thing you remember was waking up on the couch, your head resting on someone’s lap. Haechan was still sleeping soundly, and so were all of your friends except for Yuta. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Everyone looked so peaceful.
"Ugh, my head." You moaned as you sat up. "This hangover is going to kill me."
"Can I get you anything?" Ten asked, coming out of his bedroom. He looked around the living room, noticing that the people who didn't make it home last night, were all passed out on the floor or on the couch.
You rubbed your forehead, getting up and padding towards the kitchen. “Coffee, please.”
He handed you the mug and a pack of Advil. "Are you feeling better?"
"Just peachy." You replied sarcastically. "Not at all.”
Ten laughed. "Don't worry, you'll feel better tomorrow."
As soon as he walked back into the living room to wake everyone up, you finished your mug of coffee and padded into your bedroom to freshen up. You went through your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You needed to dress casual, since you planned on spending most of the day lounging around the house, drinking coffee and playing games. Unfortunately, you couldn't decide between wearing sweatpants or shorts. Finally, after much deliberation, you chose to pair leggings with a gray tank top. Once you were done, you wandered back into the living room to wait for everyone else to wake up.
You didn't need to wait too long. Before you knew it, Taeyong and Renjun joined you at the kitchen table with cups of coffee. Mark rubbed at his eyes, sitting up from the couch, Haechan stirred next to him.
“Where did you two sleep?” You asked Taeyong and Renjun, curious.
Taeyong gave you a pointed look. “Like on the floor. At least Yuta was against the wall.”
You grinned. "I'm surprised no one took over my bed."
"I'm surprised no one put you to bed," Yuta muttered as he joined the group.
"Haechan was hogging her on the couch." Mark sleepily muttered.
"I was going to help her to her room but then I got sleepy and she was sleepy," Haechan yawned. "So we both passed out on the couch."
"Who didn't go home last night?" You asked Ten .
"Mark, Haechan, Renjun, Taeyong, and Yuta." Taeil replied. "Oh. Kun passed out on my bedroom floor."
“Haha. Let's go get breakfast once they wake up. What should we do today?” You asked the group of hungover men.
“Eat breakfast. Drink more coffee. Play video games. Whatever you want.” Kun shrugged, coming from Ten's bedroom. He stretched and yawned loudly. “Today is a free day. We can do whatever you want."
“Okay, sounds good. Can I shower first?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.
“Of course. Don't take too long. We're waiting.” Taeyong smirked.
“Whatever.” You replied. You slowly trudged upstairs to your bedroom. Once you were inside, you stripped off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor. You slid under the warm spray of water and scrubbed your hair vigorously. Soon, you stepped out of the shower, toweling off your hair and wrapping the towel around your body. Then you pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and an old, faded red t-shirt. Once you were ready, you padded downstairs to grab your purse and keys.
Once you returned to the living room, you found everyone waiting for you. They all sat around the living room, sipping on their morning coffees.
"Alright, let's go get breakfast." You declared happily.
"Good idea." Yuta agreed, getting up from the couch. "Let's not waste another minute here."
"We don't need another minute." Mark commented, looking around the room.
When you arrived at your favorite restaurant, everyone piled out of the car, stretching and yawning. The restaurant was fairly empty, save for the employees. So, when the owner came up to greet you all, you smiled.
"Morning! Glad to see my favorite group of hungover college kids." She beamed, her arms wide opened.
You stepped into her arms. "Morning mom. Can you feed us now?"
"Anything for my favorite daughter." Your mom kissed your cheek, ignoring your comment that you were her only child. Your mom looked at the rest of the group. “Now what can I get for you hungover kids?”
“Your egg sandwiches, auntie.” Ten muttered.
“Coffee.” Mark yawned. “Lots and lots of coffee.”
“Can I get toast, bacon, and fries, auntie?” Renjun asked.
"Oh, god, come on." Taeyong groaned, sitting down at a nearby table. "Just give me some coffee and bacon, I'll be fine. Please auntie."
After you placed your order, you settled down at the table, joining your friends.
"Why are we meeting here every morning?" Yuta yawned, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Because it's close to campus, you get free food and you know my mom loves you all." You shook your head, helping the staff pour everyone coffee or orange juice into their mugs and cups. You made your thanks, the staff smiling.
"One of the perks of being Y/N's friends," Kun laughed. "Free food from her mom's restaurant. Lucky us."
"True that." Ten nodded, finishing off his egg sandwich. "Man, I love her mom's sandwiches."
"She makes the best ones." You agreed, stealing a fry from Renjun's plate.
A few minutes later, the rest of the food was delivered.
"Can I have your bacon and eggs?" Ten asked, pointing at your plate.
You raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think you deserve to eat someone else's bacon?"
"Doesn't hurt to ask." He grinned, grabbing your plate. "But you can always share."
Everyone chuckled as you shoved a fry into Ten's mouth.
"So where did Johnny end up going last night?" You asked suddenly. “I really didn’t see him last night. I mean I saw him before I passed out.”
"He didn't stay long." Mark answered. "Around midnight, he left with Jieun."
"Ah." You frowned. "Makes sense. They never stay long whenever I'm around."
"They probably just wanted to spend time together." Kun explained. "Jieun and Johnny were really cute together. She followed him everywhere he went."
"Did you ever tell him that you liked him?" Yuta asked you suddenly.
"What?" You blinked. How did Yuta know about that?
"You did flirt with him a little." Renjun reminded you. "At least, that's what I saw."
"Whatever." You rolled your eyes. "It was barely any flirting."
"Come on Y/N," Mark shook his head. "Johnny was staring at you the whole night before Jieun came."
"It's the tatts, Mark." You replied. "He was asking me about them earlier."
"Seriously though." Yuta continued. "If you like him, why didn't you ever say anything?"
"I thought he'd never notice me." You sighed, knowing that there was no way to escape the converstation. "I'm not the type of girl that guys usually like."
"Really?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with you."
"It's the tatts, huh?" Taeyong muttered, looking at your tattooed arm. "I mean, I love a girl that has tatts."
"Guys will always find something to complain about." You nodded your head. “But thanks for that Taeyong.”
"Well," Renjun interrupted, chuckling slightly. "There's nothing wrong with your tattoos."
"Yeah." Haechan agreed. "They're pretty cool."
"I agree." Ten smiled. "And sexy as hell."
You blushed, ignoring everyone's laughter. But it wasn't long before you were in a conversation about your tattoos again. About how pretty you thought they were and about how unique each tattoo was. It felt good, having such amazing friends that were willing to talk about your ink. You knew it would probably never happen with other groups of guys you hung out with. Not because they didn't care, but because they were afraid to offend you. Which is why you weren't surprised when the subject turned to sex.
It was always sex with these guys.
Why were you friends with these sex-crazed guys?
"So..." Taeyong started, shooting a pointed glance at you. "Are there any guys here you want to bang?"
"Hear me out. I know he has a girl and I know someone's going to beat me up for saying it or even thinking of it," You decided to just tell the truth. You looked around biting your lip, making sure your mom didn’t hear you. "Johnny. He seems like a good fuck."
"Damn," Haechan raised his eyebrows. "Y/N and Johnny would be hot, to be honest."
"No shit." Renjun nodded. "They'd be the hottest couple on campus."
You rolled your eyes and laughed with the others. You and Johnny? If only that was possible.
He still has a girlfriend after all.
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The days passed quickly. After hanging out with the group for breakfast, you usually went off on your own, doing homework or just spending time alone in your room. But one day, after lunch, you decided to join your friends again. This time you met up with Taeyong, Doyoung, Winwin, Xiaojun, and Jaemin.
You sat at the table, eating as everyone told you stories about who they hooked up with last night. You rolled your eyes when Taeyong started telling you about his drunken hookup with a girl named Minah.
"Drunk sex?" You scoffed, giving him a look. "Really?"
"Don't act like you haven't done that." Taeyong narrowed his eyes. "With as many times as you had drunken sex with Doyoung."
"Please don't bring that up. Every time you guys mention it, I feel bad." You groaned as Doyoung sputtered on his food. You reached out and patted his back. “But admit it Doyoung, the sex was good.”
"We don't mention it!" Taeyong responded to you, rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s reaction. "It's not our fault you're always horny!"
"Shut up. Just shut up." You threw your napkin at him, the others laughing.
You were surprised when the next person you noticed looking at you wasn't Xiaojun or Doyoung or Jaemin or even Winwin. Instead, it was your very handsome friend, Johnny. You didn't even know he would be here. He was out with others that were in his classes.
His dark brown eyes met yours across the room. There was something about the way he stared at you that made you blush. Your cheeks were hot. Even your ears felt hot. Why was this guy looking at you so intensely? And so much?
“Is there a reason why you’re staring at Johnny so much?” Xiaojun asked, leaning back in his chair.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Um…”
"She wants to fuck him." Jaemin muttered. "Renjun told me the other day."
"But then again, what girl doesn't want to fuck, Johnny?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders. "Jieun is one lucky bitch."
You tried not to look at him anymore. Because whenever you looked at him, your stomach would flip. He was just too beautiful. Too sexy. Too perfect. It didn't help that he was already famous for dating the popular girl. Not that you weren't popular.
No wonder every single girl kept trying to hit on him. You included. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him since you met him at that event you hosted with Mark for the foreign exchange students. But he still had a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend.
Yet, here you were, constantly looking at Johnny like he was a piece of candy that you desperately wanted. Or maybe like you were salivating at the sight of him. Yes, that sounded more appropriate.
Like you wanted to eat him alive.
You wanted to suck on his lips. Suck on his tongue. Slap his hard cock against your naked pussy.
God, you wish you could touch him. Touch his face. His arms. His chest. Hell, just touch his skin. To see if it was as soft as it looked.
Or if it was rough.
Maybe Johnny likes rougher sex than the girls he normally slept with. What do you know about him, huh? Nothing. And yet, you keep imagining yourself with him. Imagining how it would feel to lay beneath him, letting him fuck you from behind. Thinking about how incredible it would feel to take his load all over your face. Or maybe deep inside you. The possibilities were endless. You just couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.
Your friends didn't know about the way you fantasized about him.
At least, they hadn't said anything. Yet.
"Ah, fuck." You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Doyoung gave you a concerned look. “You okay, Y/N?”
You nodded in reply.
You were seriously losing control. That was a first. For as long as you could remember, you had been able to hold yourself back from acting on your urges. The fact that you had no self-control around him should've made you realize you shouldn't be with him. It should make you run away. But instead, your heart yearned to feel his body pressed against yours.
Why? You wondered. Why did you keep wanting him?
You took another bite of your salad, listening to your friends talking amongst themselves. And once again, Johnny’s name was brought up.
“Yeah, I heard he spent most of the weekend with Jieun.” Xiaojun said casually.
You sighed softly, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any questions about it.
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The next week was rather uneventful. Since it was your last year of college, you have stayed late almost every night studying or doing homework. Sometimes, if your apartment was occupied, you would go to Hendery’s, Jeno’s or Yangyang’s rooms and study there since they often partied, playing sports or going to the gym. So you were surprised when Wednesday afternoon found you walking back to your apartment alone.
As you approached your building, you noticed Johnny standing near the front doors. Of course he was there. No doubt he had been waiting for you.
His posture screamed 'alpha male'. All six feet one inch of him stood rigidly, like he was prepared to strike at any moment. And the muscles in his arms and chest were clearly defined under his tight black shirt. Damn. You wanted to get closer to him, to see if those bulging biceps were real.
You swallowed nervously. How does a girl like you even get a chance to meet the guy that every other girl wants? What makes you different from all the rest? You were one of his best friends that's for sure.
You watched as he began talking to someone. A girl. And she seemed to respond well to his attention. She smiled as he leaned down to speak to her. She giggled. She touched his arm lightly. She probably thinks she's special. Probably thinks that he's interested in her. As if.
But he looks happy. Smiling. Even talking to her. Ah, this must be Jieun, the girlfriend. She was actually really cute. Much prettier than you expected her to be. Short hair cut in a layered style. Brown eyes. And a small nose.
The way his gaze lingered on her for a few moments longer than necessary, she seemed to be flattered. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly. Her head resting on his shoulder as she gazed at him with longing. It was then that you realized that he was completely oblivious to your presence.
What was wrong with you? Why are you watching them like that? Why can't you turn away? God damn it! Stop acting like some sort of pervert.
You cleared your throat. Maybe he won't notice you if you ignore him. It worked the last time. Didn't it?
But to your dismay, he did.
"Hi Y/N!" He said cheerfully, looking up and meeting your gaze. "I've been waiting for you."
Oh god.
"Hey Johnny," You forced yourself to say. Your voice came out low and shaky. You struggled to find your words. Suddenly, you felt like an awkward teenager again. Like your face was on fire.
Johnny nodded towards Jieun, causing her to frown slightly. Then he shot you a mischievous smile. "Let's go up."
It took everything you had to push past him and enter your building. Thankfully, Jieun left before you reached your apartment door. You were grateful. You didn't need her prying questions right now.
Inside your home, you stood in the living room, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. Ten wasn’t home yet, so you felt a bit nervous that you were left alone with Johnny. This had never before. Why all of a sudden were you feeling nervous in front of your best friend?
"Do you want a drink?" You offered nervously. "A soda or water? Wine?"
"A glass of red wine sounds nice." He replied without hesitation.
Relief flooded you as you hurried to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Thankfully, you had stocked the fridge earlier that day.
When you returned to the living room, Johnny was sitting on the couch, sipping his wine and watching TV.
He's so gorgeous. Why does he have to be so goddamn beautiful?
"So..." You started awkwardly. "How have you been?"
"Same old, same old." He shrugged. "What about you?"
You frowned. "Nothing new. Apart from hanging with the guys.”
He glanced at you quickly. Something passed between the two of you. Something strange. Something exciting. You squirmed in your seat, trying to focus on anything else besides the way his eyes smoldered at you. You felt like your whole world was going crazy. Everything around you became fuzzy. The way his voice sounded. The way his muscles flexed underneath his clothes. The way he gazed at you. Oh god.
Fuck.
Stop it. You chided yourself. This isn’t happening. Don’t give in to him. This is bad. Really bad.
“I’m glad we finally got to hang out tonight.” He said after a few moments of silence.
“Me too.” You replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, I guess I haven’t seen you since you’ve been busy with Jieun.”
Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “True.”
"You never talked about her." You pointed out quietly.
He grimaced. "We don't really talk about her that often."
"Do you like her?"
"Who?"
You exhaled sharply. "Jieun. Do you like her?"
Johnny furrowed his brows. "Why do you ask?"
You hesitated, wishing you hadn't brought it up. "Well...you look pretty happy when you're with her."
He smiled briefly. "It's complicated."
"Are you two together?" You questioned. "Is that why you always sit with her during class?"
"Well, we're definitely close." He said simply.
And then, he was silent.
“Isn’t she your girlfriend?” You blurted out. “Shouldn’t you spend time with her instead of me?”
He cocked his head to the side. “No, we’re not together.”
“Really?” You felt relieved. Thank god.
Johnny laughed. “Of course. We aren’t dating. We’ve slept together a few times but we’re not dating.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. Good. At least he was being honest. You tried not to think about what kind of relationship they had. What kind of relationship they had had. But you couldn’t help but notice how they interacted with each other. The way they looked at each other. How they held hands.
“Was my best friend jealous?” Johnny peered at your face, a smile on his lips. “Because I could swear that you were staring at us.”
“I was not!” You denied. “There was nothing to stare at.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and deny it.”
“No, I’m telling the truth. There was nothing to stare at.” You insisted.
“Sure there was.” He grinned, taking another sip of his wine.
“Trust me. There was nothing.” You responded forcefully. “There was no reason for me to watch you and Jieun together. You weren’t kissing or anything.”
“Really?” His expression grew serious. “What if I asked you to kiss me right now? Would you?”
“Fuck, Suh.” You burst out. “That’s impossible. You know that, right?”
“But would you want to?” He persisted. “Would you kiss me right now if I asked you?”
“I…” You stopped.
How the hell was you supposed to answer that question?
This conversation was turning into something you never expected it to be. Was it really just a friendly request or something more?
And what would your friends say if they saw you two making out in the middle of the living room? If they saw you grinding against him on the couch?
“God dammit.” You groaned, slumping back onto the couch. “Johnny, what the fuck are you doing to me?”
“Hmmm?” He peered at you curiously.
“Why does this have to happen?” You groaned, trying hard not to panic. “What are you trying to do to me?”
He gave you a playful smile. “I'm not doing anything to you.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then why am I feeling this way?”
“Because you want me.” He replied simply. “Because you’re attracted to me. Because you can’t resist me. Because you feel something when I look at you.”
His confession sent shockwaves through your body. You sat motionless on the couch. Unable to comprehend what he just told you. Unable to believe him.
“Are you attracted to me too?” You whispered. “Is that why you keep looking at me?”
Johnny stared at you silently for several seconds. Then he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” He confirmed.
You gaped at him.
“Really?” You repeated hesitantly.
“I'm not lying to you.” He assured you. “I want you. I want you so badly that I can barely breathe sometimes. But if I tell you that, will you run away? Will you break our friendship because of this?”
“No.” You answered instantly. “No. I’d never do that. I wouldn’t even be able to think straight. Not to mention the fact that the guys would kill me.”
He chuckled. “Why’s that?”
“They know that I have a thing for you.” You admitted. “They see the way I look at you. They tease me about it all the time. I guess it’s easier for them to accept it if they knew that I’m attracted to someone who likes me back. Someone who I can be myself around. That’s why they won’t mind if we date. As long as I’m with someone who accepts me.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“So…what should we do?” You asked tentatively.
He raised his eyebrows. “About what?”
“Um…this.” You gestured towards yourself. “This attraction between us. It seems like we both want it. So…is it possible that maybe we could…I don’t know…do something about it? Maybe meet up somewhere private? Or at least have sex. In my bed? On your couch?”
Johnny’s eyes lit up. “You want to have sex with me?”
“Fuck, Johnny.” You ran your hand through your hair, noticing his eyes on your tatted arm. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” He murmured huskily. “Like I'm going to take you upstairs and rip your clothes off? Like I'm going to shove my cock inside you and fuck you until you scream?”
You moaned. Fuck yes. That's exactly what you want.
“Don’t you want to?” He pressed. “Don’t you want me to make love to you? To touch every inch of your skin? To lick your nipples and suck on your breasts?”
You bit your lip.
“Fuck. Please stop talking. Just fucking fuck me already.” You moaned, unable to contain your arousal any longer.
He smirked. “All right. All right. But just to warn you. I plan on treating you like the goddess that you are. Every part of your body is going to feel good to me. I’ll make sure you come over and over again.”
A fire ignited within you. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. The idea of getting fucked by him sent a thrill throughout your body. You loved hearing him say those words to you. Words that only a man like him could utter. And knowing that you wanted to have sex with him didn’t hurt either. It made you feel incredibly desirable.
“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.” Johnny said softly.
“Do whatever you want.” You replied breathlessly. “Just please. Make me cum.”
He chuckled. “If that’s what you want.”
You nodded eagerly. A devilish grin formed on his lips.
He stood up from the couch. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you up from the sofa. With one swift move, he tossed you over his shoulder.
He strode quickly towards the staircase. You shrieked, clutching at his shirt tightly. You kicked your legs wildly, desperately trying to escape from his grip.
Johnny was much stronger than you realized. Within seconds, he had thrown you down onto your bed. With one quick movement, he jumped on top of you. Your heart thundered against your chest.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely.
Your body responded instinctively. Your pussy throbbed, begging for attention. Your nipples hardened beneath your shirt, yearning for a hard squeeze.
As his tongue probed into your mouth, his hands slid underneath your shirt. Pushing it up and off your shoulders.
His warm fingers trailed over your skin. Sending chills throughout your entire body. His lips trailed down your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh. Every single movement was driving you wild.
Every stroke of his tongue and caress of his fingertips set you on fire. You were soaking wet, longing for him to take you. For him to fill you with his cock. To give you the pleasure you deserve.
The moment his fingers brushed against your nipple, you let out a moan.
You arched your back, thrusting your breast towards him.
He chuckled. “God, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?”
He grasped your bra, tearing it apart with ease. Your nipples sprang free. He rubbed his thumb over them, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Oooohhhh, Johnny.” You moaned.
He grinned wickedly. “Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I play with your tits? When I suck on your nipples?”
“Yessss.” You gasped. “More. More. Fuck.”
“Oh god.” He groaned, biting down gently on your nipple.
He continued to flick his tongue across your other nipple, flicking harder each time. Your cries became louder. You felt like you were going to explode. It took everything in you not to reach down and unzip his pants.
Instead, you threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Tugging at his hair as he teased your nipples. Moaning loudly whenever he touched your skin.
Johnny smiled. He licked his lips hungrily, giving your breasts one last slow suck before letting go.
Leaving you panting for air.
“I've got to be honest with you, baby.” He breathed, pushing himself up onto his knees. “You taste amazing. Better than anything I've ever tasted before. And there's nothing else I'd rather do right now than to spend hours tasting every inch of your gorgeous body. Touching you. Kissing you. Licking you. And slowly entering you. Until I fill you with my cum.”
“Mmmmm. Fuck yes.” You whimpered, your voice sounding like an echo in the empty bedroom.
“Now where were we?” He asked slyly. “Ahh yes, your tits. Did you want me to suck on them some more? Maybe eat you out while I played with your tits?”
“Yes.” You breathed. “Please. Oh god, yes. Please.”
He chuckled. “Anything for you, baby. Anything.”
Slowly standing up, he began to strip off his shirt. Each piece of clothing was removed with great care. His tattoos were displayed prominently. They looked beautiful as always. The sight of them caused you to sigh in appreciation.
Once his shirt was completely gone, he leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on your stomach.
“That's better.” He whispered. “Now you're ready for me.”
His hands sliding your pants off. His lips kissing the insides of your thighs. Caressing your inner thigh with every kiss. Leaving you quivering with desire.
“Fuck!” You cried out. “Stop teasing me. Please. Just fuck me. Now!”
“Shhh.” He whispered. “Not yet. Not yet. There's still so much left to do first. Don't worry. You'll get what you need soon enough.”
Your hands dug into his hair, pulling his face closer to your pussy. You moaned loudly. The sounds of your pleasuring filling the room. His hot breath tickling your inner thighs. Your panties drenched with your juices.
Johnny looked up at you, his dark eyes darkened with lust.
“Look at me. Look how beautiful you are.” He said huskily. “Watch me taste you. Watch as I rub my tongue over your clit. See how good it feels. Know that I'm doing it to you. That I want to eat you out so badly.”
He gripped your hips, tugging you upwards. Opening his mouth wide. Licking your entire pussy, slowly spreading your juices.
Lapping at you slowly, teasingly. Going lower and lower until his tongue found your swollen clit. Pressing hard against it, rubbing his tongue in circles.
“Fuuuck.” You cried out. “Johnny! Johnny!”
“Such dirty talk, baby.” He said with a laugh. “Let me hear it. Let me hear you beg for me to make you cum. I want to hear you screaming for me.”
You clawed at his back, trying to pull his face deeper into your pussy. Screaming obscenities. Making animalistic sounds. Biting down on your pillow as he gave you all the pleasure you deserved.
Finally, his tongue plunged deep inside your pussy. Flicking over your clit in rapid succession. Sucking on it and flicking it. Pulling away occasionally to tease you. Tasting your juices. Giving you an extra burst of pleasure every time.
His pace increased rapidly. Pulling away for brief moments only to return immediately. Giving you even more pleasure than you expected. Soon you were trembling, nearing the point of no return.
It took everything you had not to lose control. Your entire body was consumed by ecstasy. Your pussy contracting rhythmically around his mouth. Pumping his tongue inside you, trying to keep yourself from coming. From exploding with orgasmic bliss.
But you couldn't hold it anymore. You began to cry out. Your body shuddered.
Sensing your impending climax, Johnny stopped sucking on your clit. He withdrew his tongue, but kept his lips firmly pressed against it. Keeping your orgasm contained.
His hands remained firmly on your hips. Tugging at your hips, forcing your body further upwards. You cried out as you tried to pull his face back into your pussy. Trying to force yourself to cum.
You came with a loud scream, your entire body tensing. Johnny followed your lead, groaning loudly as you pushed your pussy back into his face. Your thighs squeezing tight around his head, pulling him tighter against your clit. Your entire body trembling violently. Spasms racking your body. Bringing forth the most intense sensation you had ever experienced.
Suddenly, he stopped. Letting go of your hips. Sliding off your sweaty body. Standing up from the bed. Looking down at you.
“Baby, I know you came, but I'm not done yet.” He said quietly.
Looking down at your spread thighs, he smirked. He began to undo his pants.
You panted, waiting impatiently for him to reveal his erection. You knew what was coming next. You knew this would be the moment of truth. Would he be able to satisfy you? Would he actually be able to give you the satisfaction you were craving?
With one swift motion, his erect cock sprung free. Your eyes widened, almost as if you were surprised to see it. You hadn't been expecting it to be that big.
And you weren't wrong. His cock was absolutely enormous. Longer than any penis you had ever seen. Bulging with potential. You wondered if he could possibly fit inside you.
If he would hurt you.
But you know he wouldn't.
You stared at his cock hungrily, staring at it in disbelief. In awe. You reached out tentatively, touching it lightly. Fingers shaking slightly. Shaking as they traced their way along its length.
You felt the weight of it in your hand. Thicker than any cock you had ever felt. Fuller than any dick you had ever seen.
Before you could fully appreciate his massive erection, he grabbed hold of your wrist. Moving your hand to the tip of his cock.
“Just think about it.” He said quietly. “Imagine how amazing it will feel. Just imagine the sensations running through your body. Imagine how incredible it will feel to have this inside of you. How much more powerful it will be than any dick you've ever had before.”
Thinking about how large his dick would feel stretching your pussy open. Knowing that once he penetrated you, he would never leave. He would be inside you forever. Bringing you so much pleasure.
Giving you such pleasure. Satisfying you so deeply. Giving you what you needed. Allowing you to finally release all your pent up sexual tension. Giving you the ultimate sexual experience.
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you placed your lips against the head of his cock. Your tongue darting out. Drawing the warm liquid from his shaft. Overwhelmingly delicious.
Moving down, your lips parted. Your tongue sliding out of your mouth. Stretching out towards his cock. Swirling around it like a tiny tornado. Slickly coating his member with saliva. Getting him nice and wet. Allowing you to slide it further inside your mouth. Gently sucking on it, making sure to take it all in.
“Fuck.” He growled. “Oh fuck. You are so fucking sexy. So beautiful.”
Smiling brightly, you returned his compliment. Leaning forward, your tongue moved further into his crotch. Taking him even deeper inside your mouth. Tongue twirling around his thick base. Up and down the full length of his shaft. Playing with his balls. Feeling the resistance of his perineum.
Slowly moving back up to his tip. Taking him deeper inside your mouth again. Working your way down, taking him all the way to the bottom. Running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. As you slid back up to the tip, you sucked on it gently.
He groaned loudly, reaching out to grab hold of your head. Pushing you downwards so he could sink even deeper into your throat. Your nose pressed against his pubes, inhaling the musky scent. Sucking on his cock like it was a popsicle. Gagging a little bit. His thick length hitting the back of your throat with each movement.
Panting heavily, he held your head firmly in place. Gasping for air as he let out another moan. His dick pulsating wildly inside your mouth. Fluid seeping out of the end of his cock. Massaging your throat. Causing it to tingle pleasantly.
As he released his grip, you released his cock from your mouth. Pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Smiling happily at him. Proud of yourself for being able to handle his huge cock.
He smiled back at you. Reaching down, his fingers wrapping around your chin. Pulling you close to him. He kissed you passionately. Wrapping his arms around you. Holding you tightly. He tasted wonderful. His scent intoxicating. His warmth reassuring.
Gripping your ass tightly, he pulled you onto his lap. Sitting you down onto his hard cock. Watching as it filled your pussy. Slowly slipping inside of you.
Stopping halfway inside you, he gently lifted you up. Removing his erection from your pussy. Grinning as he laid you down on the bed. Positioning himself between your legs. His hard cock positioned at your entrance.
Pulling back slightly, he looked down at you. Seeing the desire in your eyes. Waiting for him to thrust his thick cock inside of you.
Taking a deep breath, he gripped your waist tightly. Slowly pushing forward. Delving inside of you. Feeling you wrap your legs around him. Tightening them around his body. Moaning loudly as he filled you completely.
Releasing his grip on your waist, he grabbed hold of your wrists. Placing them above your head. Hanging limply as he slowly fucked you. Gently pumping his cock into you.
Grinding your hips against him. Panting as you struggled to breathe properly. Wanting desperately to touch his cock, to stroke it. To watch it twitch in your hand. But he didn't allow you to do anything. He continued to thrust into you. Stroking his dick as fast as he could.
“Please.” You begged. “I need you to come inside of me. Please.”
Chuckling, he responded. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not just yet.”
His words spurred you on. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to feel his load splatter inside of you. Needing to feel his seed filling your pussy. Pouring into your body. And you would love every minute of it. Every single second.
He suddenly pulled out of you. Rolling over onto his back. “Climb on top of me. Put your tits in my face. I want to suck on them while you ride me.”
Lifting your ass, you quickly straddled his naked body. Hooking your fingers behind his neck. Settling yourself down onto his hard cock. You moaned loudly as you impaled yourself on him. Your hips bucking back and forth.
Johnny gripped your breasts, tugging on your nipples as you rode him. Squeezing your nipples hard. Twisting them as you slammed your pussy down on his dick. Slowly increasing the speed. Riding him faster and harder until he felt the familiar pressure building up inside of him.
“Hang on baby. Hang on. I'm going to come. Oh god.”
Moaning loudly, you brought yourself closer to climax. Johnny's dick pounding your walls relentlessly. Your whole body shuddering uncontrollably.
Feeling his climax building, Johnny wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tightly. Ensuring that you remain steady. Bringing you closer to release. Kneading your breasts, milking them roughly. Pleasuring them until you were completely overcome by pleasure.
Your orgasm ripping through your body. Crashing down upon you with relentless force. Sweeping you away into an ocean of pure bliss.
He moaned loudly, holding you tight. Panting heavily as he came inside of you. Your pussy gripping him tightly. Keep his semen within you. Silencing his lustful thoughts. Pushing them away, allowing him to rest peacefully.
Holding you closely, he watched as your climax slowly faded away. You lay on his chest, your breathing still erratic.
“So good.” You breathed softly.
“So fucking good.” He agreed. “That was the best. The absolute best."
"The best sex I've had in a long time." You let out a small laugh. You heard the front door of your apartment opening and closing, hearing voices talking about Johnny's coat and shoes. Someone, sounded like Taeyong, laughing at how you and Johnny finally fucked.
"I can hear you guys!" You yelled.
Johnny chuckled. "So I guess the guys are right outside, and they know exactly what happened."
Groaning, you buried your face into Johnny's shoulder. "I can hear Renjun and Haechan asking me all sorts of questions."
Smirking, Johnny spoke. "We can just tell them that the hot tattooed people are finally a couple."
"A couple?" You asked, lifting your head up. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"Well, I originally came to see you tonight because I was on a mission." He laughed. "Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?"
Laughing loudly, you hugged him tightly. "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Johnny."
Letting out a sigh of relief, he relaxed against you. "Thank god."
He mumbled, resting his head against yours. Breathing in your lovely scent, he listened to the sound of your heart beating. "This is the first time I've been with someone I really care about. So I don't want to mess it up. It has to work."
Snuggling against him, you smiled. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out together."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yes." You answered, curious to hear what he was going to say.
"I love you." He told you. "And you need to know that."
"I love you too." You mumbled, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Forever."
He closed his eyes, biting his lower lip. A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips. He looked down at your tattooed sleeve, running his finger over a sunflower one. "I really love this design. What does it mean?"
You chuckled. "Sunflowers remind me of you."
Johnny froze, looking down at your tattoo.
You were shocked to see tears forming in his eyes. But you didn't have time to worry about it because he immediately placed a tender kiss on your lips.
Your heart fluttered wildly at his actions. Never had you felt so alive.
So happy.
So loved.
You hugged him tightly.
"Remember when you used to tease me about getting tattoos?" He asked you, giving you a sheepish smile. He caressed your cheek. "Remember when I told you I wouldn't get another one unless you joined me?"
"Yup." You nodded. "What happened to getting one with me?"
"I eventually got it with Taeyong and Yuta since I wasn't sure whether you wanted one with me or not." Johnny explained. "I'm still waiting to get one with you."
"What if I gave you the tattoo?" You offered, tracing his shoulder tattoo. "One of my designs so it's like you're taking me with you anywhere you go."
"I would love to be inked by you." Johnny whispered, turning his gaze towards you. "Anywhere you want."
Your breath hitched. This is exactly what you wanted.
You could only imagine the gorgeous tattoos you would create together. They would be so incredibly beautiful. A masterpiece. You would cherish them forever.
It would also make you feel special. Knowing that no matter where you went, Johnny would always carry part of you with him. Always be thinking of you. Remembering you. Cherishing your creations.
You didn't know how you could express how grateful you were for his words. Or for him choosing you. Loving you. Being with you.
All you knew was that you were going to treasure these feelings for as long as possible.
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