#i doubt anyone saw it back then but. repost ! because it still looks nice. and im still sad about the striders what else is new | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ringsofsaturnnnn · 2 years ago

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— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 | 𝐚. 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞��𝐭

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: it’s no secret that most people see armin as a sweet, innocent little thing. i mean, how couldn’t you? his sweeter than honey smile, bright blue eyes, and gentle voice pulls everyone in! however, what happens when you end up finding out that little mr. perfect isn’t as nice as everyone thinks he is?

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 :: fem bodied reader, porn with a plot (kinda), manipulative!armin, jealous!armin, pervy!armin, mean!armin, ooc!armin, swearing, dark content as armin is kinda manipulative, armin sorta shames you for what you wear at one point, nsfw themes - armin jacking off to you, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, slight choking, light dacryphilia (armin likes seeing you cry), fingering, virgin reader, overstim, pet names/endearing terms (honey, baby, sweet girl, etc.), slight dumbification. all characters are aged up & are in college. if i missed anything just let me know!

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: this is my first time ever writing something like this so if it sucks i’m so sorry 😭. i really hope it makes sense.. i feel like the plot just kinda fell apart but oh well. i’ve just been having extreme brainrot for armin. big thanks to my friend @oyusumi for beta reading like.. half of this and inspiring me to finally post.

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

your head moved back and forth to the music playing through your headphones as you looked through your notes in the notebook in front of you. you had been studying nonstop for the upcoming german test, however, it seemed like all your studying was futile. you still couldn’t understand how to pronounce, nor spell, certain words. it was just getting frustrating because it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, you still just couldn’t get it.

letting out a groan, you ripped your headphones out of your ears and started packing your notes up. you needed to get out of the library. this studying was starting to drive you nuts. as you were packing, you heard someone’s voice behind you. turning, you saw your friend eren. “oh, hey eren.” you smiled as you shoved the last notebook in your bag.

“hey. you looked frustrated. do you need help with anything?” many people pegged eren as the stupid type who didn’t do his homework and was passing school by the skin of his teeth, which was ironic, because he was a great student. he practically had straight a’s with the occasional b+. “oh no, don’t worry about it. i was just getting frustrated while studying for the german test.” you shrugged as you swung your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your phone.

“oh, here! let me help you,” eren sat down in the empty seat and looked at you. “well, come on.” giving him a hesitant glance, you sighed. “are you sure? i don’t want to be a bother..” he nodded and you couldn’t help but smile. “fine.” setting your bag down, you unzipped it and grabbed the notebook you were previously looking at.

unknowingly to the both of you, a certain blonde was watching you two out of the corner of his eye. he couldn’t stop the anger building inside of him. it should of been him helping you, not eren. armin was the brightest kid in school, no doubt. he was a straight a+ student who had a 4.0 gpa. sure, he spent most of his days studying, but it showed as almost every teacher favored him and wished every student was as bright as he was.

the sound of your laughter pulled armin from his thoughts. he looked up and saw your head resting against eren’s shoulder as you laughed at something he said. gripping his pencil tightly, he looked at the blank white paper, lined with blue stripes, in front of him. he just couldn’t think. couldn’t focus. not when you entered his mind.

armin was obsessed with you.

plain and simple. there was no other way to explain it. to others, and even you, his gestures were sweet. he was a true gentleman. he held doors open for you, walked you to your next class at the expense of being late to his own, gave you his notes if you missed something, and would even offered you his jacket if certain classrooms were too cold for you.

day after day, you never left armin’s thoughts. you were always on his mind, in more ways than one. what seems like a harmless crush continued to grow and grow until it turned into a deep infatuation with you. many would call this unhealthy, but to armin, it was perfectly fine. in his eyes, how couldn’t he be obsessed with you? everything you did was just perfect.

“armin? hey, armin!” shaking his head, armin looked up and saw eren. “you okay? i’ve been calling your name for a few minutes now.” eren chuckled and sat down next to his friend. “oh? yeah, i’m fine. just spaced out.” armin responded, adding a fake laugh at the end to sound more believable. he continued to speak with eren, growing tired of the small talk. he made up an excuse so he could leave and eren nodded. “mhm, see you later.”

getting up, armin headed towards the door of the library. something on the table that you had been sitting at caught his eye. stopping and looking, he saw your phone. he glanced around and made sure no one was looking before pocketing it and heading out.

once armin entered his room, he threw his bag to the side and immediately started examining your phone. hitting the power button, your lock screen lit up his face. it was a picture of you, armin, mikasa, and eren. he couldn’t stop the smile that toyed at the edge of his lips at the thought of you seeing his face every time you opened your phone.

he swiped up and the phone asked for a passcode. chuckling, he easily typed in the six-digit code to unlock your phone. he had seen you type the passcode in when you sat beside him at lunch one day. your face id hadn’t been working and you made a comment about nearly forgetting your passcode because you always used your face id.

the second he was in, he paused. this was wrong. he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. he needed to see what was on your phone. he needed to know that you were safe. clicking on your messages, he noticed that his conversation was pinned. his heart swelled at the thought. you had his conversation pinned. along with his, you had eren, mikasa, and the group chat all 4 of you shared pinned.

after he finished smiling about the fact that his conversation was pinned, he started reading your other messages. most of your conversations were, in his opinion, stupid. you mainly texted sasha about different recipes you had made or how she was doing on homework. your conversations with connie were basically him inappropriately flirting with you (which made armin quite upset) or telling stupid jokes back and forth. he occasionally asked you for answers to homework, which didn’t shock armin one bit. jean’s texts with you were dry and dull, nothing interesting there.

the conversations that caught his eye were your texts with mikasa and eren. since they were your good friends, you, of course, had more interesting messages with them. eren’s texts with you were mostly about hanging out and how you two were feeling. armin couldn’t help but feel a spike of jealousy. you never texted him about your feelings, so why did you go to eren? had he not proven that he was trustworthy enough? what made armin see red was the pictures eren had been sending you. shirtless pictures, him at the gym, pictures where his pants were hanging dangerously low on his hips. he was disgusted as he scrolled through the texts. you had told him more than once that you weren’t interested, so why wasn’t eren getting the fucking hint?

having enough of eren, he went to your conversation with mikasa. he felt himself calm down as he read your texts with her. you mainly talked about your struggles with certain classes (which armin made note of so he could help you later) and your feelings. he didn’t mind you talking to mikasa about your feelings because he knew that mikasa was very important to you and would offer you good advice.

just when he was about to be done snooping through your messages, he saw his name. scrolling up a little further, he couldn’t help but read what you said about him. his eyes quickly scanned the words, the smile on his face growing wider and wider with each passing second.

you had a crush on him?

he continued to stare at your messages with mikasa, not being able to pull his eyes away from that simple message. you, a beautiful, ethereal angel, had a crush on him? it was almost like a dream come true. armin even pinched himself a few times just to make sure he was seeing this correctly.

shaking his head, he finally swiped up and exited your messages. he scrolled through the pages on your phone, admiring your phone theme. he remembered you ranting about how long it took you to make it look as nice as it did. he looked through all your apps, less than impressed with some of them. why the heck did you need so many apps?

just as he was about to finish his snooping and call it a day, his mind wandered to your photos. should he? scrolling over to the photo icon on your homescreen, his finger hovered over it. he knew this was wrong but.. fuck it. he already had your phone, so why not? clicking the icon, he was immediately met with all your photos.

he gulped and regained his composure before starting to look through them. a lot of your photos were of your pets. of course they were though, you loved your pets. you had some pictures of different drinks or foods you got to have. different places you’ve visited. lots and lots of photos of you and your friends. swiping out of your camera roll, he looked at all your albums. you had.. a lot.

pets

yummy things

fun places

friends

the album that made him smile was called “armin.” he had his own album in your phone? clicking on it, it asked for face id, much to armin’s surprise. you could lock photo albums? it obviously denied him every time he tried to use his face. he was starting to grow frustrated before it asked to enter the passcode. smiling, he typed in the code. bingo.

the album opened up and revealed all the photos of you and armin and just armin, which gave him a satisfied smirk. eren didn’t have an album all to himself. he had finally managed to one-up eren.

he scrolled through the hundreds of photos, smiling and laughing at a few. he could recall almost every moment that had been frozen in time in these pictures. his favorite photo was the one where you were kissing his cheek. you two happened to be underneath some mistletoe that sasha had hung in a doorway. being teased by all your friends, you kissed his cheek while historia unknowingly took a picture.

his cheeks were flushed at the memory of your soft, warm lips against his skin. swiping out of that album, he saw one last one, hidden far behind the other albums. it was titled “n/a,” which he found odd. n/a meant not available or not applicable, which made no sense. those pictures were obviously available, so why put them in a folder entitled otherwise? clicking on it, he realized that this too was locked. sighing, he continued to be denied because of face id before being able to punch in the passcode.

when the album opened up, he jumped and turned red. this album was full of pictures of.. of you. however, not just any pictures, risky pictures. in some pictures you were in nothing but a bra and underwear. in other photos you used your hair to cover your (obviously) bare chest. he continued to scroll through these photos, his cheeks becoming embarrassingly warm. he couldn’t deny that he was extremely turned on.

it wasn’t long before his pants felt uncomfortably tight. unbuckling his belt, he slowly pulled his jeans down to his knees and slipped his hand into his underwear, feeling how hard he was. “oh shit..” he mumbled before slipping his underwear down as well, allowing his cock to spring free.

gently rubbing his thumb over the tip, he let out a small gasp. “mmm, fuck!” he whined. he continued to use his thumb to spread pre-cum all over his tip and down the rest of his length. he couldn’t help it, it just felt so good. as he did this, armin let his thoughts wander. he imagined it was you. you sitting on your knees in front of him, teasing him with your fingers. your mouth. your tongue.

with a quiet moan of your name, he started rubbing himself due to how uncomfortably hard he was. “oh.. oh please..” he squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to imagine you pleasuring him. bucking his hips into his fist, his moans continued to rise in volume. his cheeks were flushed as his mouth hung open ever so slightly. his pace became more and more erratic the more he pumped his length.

opening his eyes, he clicked on a random picture in the photo album. it just happened to be a picture of you squeezing your boobs together, revealing your cleavage. it wasn’t long before he felt his stomach tighten. “m-m’ gonna cum!” he cried out, even though no one could hear him. loud whines left his soft pink lips as white ropes painted his stomach. “oh, please,” he whimpered as he slowly came down from his high. armin rubbed his sensitive tip with thumb and looked down at his stomach, watching it rise and fall with his breathing. although armin didn’t work out as frequently as eren did, he still had a decently chiseled chest and well-defined abs. a few strands of cum dripped down his abs towards his v-line.

he frowned as he looked at the picture on the phone screen. he wished he could have came on your chest, or inside of you, instead of his stomach, but for now, it would have to do. armin glanced at your phone screen one last time before he shut it off, watching as the screen turned black. he pulled his pants up before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. when he felt his feet hit the cold tile, he flipped the light switch on before heading towards his shower. he listened to the water thunder against the plastered shower floor before starting to disrobe.

once he had rid himself of all his clothes, he opened the shower door and stepped in. the warm water immediately welcomed him like a hug, which armin was grateful for. running his hands through his hair, he felt his once tense muscles start to finally relax. he knew that once he got out of the shower, he’d have a little more fun with your phone before returning it to you the next morning.

you had spent the whole rest of the night and some of the morning worrying about your phone. “shit, shit, shit!” you cried as you tore your room apart for the umpteenth time. “where is it?!” it honestly looked like a tornado had hit your room. clothes were thrown everywhere, blankets askew, pillows piled up in a random corner, it looked like a royal trainwreck, that was for sure.

sitting on your bed, you buried your head in your hands and groaned. “FUCK!” you growled angrily. how could you have been so stupid? you could have swore you had your phone when you left.. wait. looking up and blinking, you let out yet another groan. you never grabbed your phone off the table once eren sat down. in an attempt to let out some anger, you grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and chucked it at the wall. you listened to it hit the wall before watching it fall to the ground.

you continued to wallow in anger for a bit before deciding to get up and get ready for school. maybe it was still on the table. you highly doubted it, but you never knew, or, maybe eren grabbed it. as you came up with scenarios in your head, your tension started to ease a little bit.

as you finished putting your stuff in your locker, you saw your good friend armin walk up to you. “oh, hey armin!” you flashed him a bright smile, watching as his pale cheeks turned pink. “hi. uhm, i just wanted to uh, give this to you,” armin reached into his pocket and pulled your phone out. he held it out to you, a soft smile gracing his delicate features. “i thought you might want it back.”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little before taking it. “i’ve been looking for this everywhere! thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed. you quickly shut your locker door before giving him a big hug. he stiffened at first, but quickly melted into your embrace. armin loved your hugs. he loved your touch. he loved you.

“where was it?!” you asked as you pulled away. armin wished the hug would have lasted longer, but he didn’t complain. “oh, it was on the table you were studying at. i saw it when i went to leave. i charged it for you.” he flashed you a smile, revealing his perfect white teeth. now it was your turn to blush. you never understood how someone could be so.. so perfect.

“i really, really appreciate that armin. you’re too sweet.” his heart felt warm and fuzzy at your compliment, however, in the back of his mind, worry consumed him. would you still think he was sweet if you figured out he had managed to share your hidden album with himself? would you still find him sweet if you knew he downloaded all your pictures to his computer hard drive so he could fuck his fist every night to it?

the sound of the bell ringing pulled him from his worry-ridden thoughts. shaking his head, he watched as you adjusted the books in your arms. “i’ll walk you to your first class.” his blonde hair covered his forehead and reached down to his eyes. “such a gentleman.” you laughed before starting to walk away.

a few weeks had passed since armin had snooped through your phone. since then, he managed to grow closer to you, which led to you inviting him over more frequently, which in turn, made his obsession grow more and more. there were times where you left him at your place while you went and got take out food or some coffee from your favorite shared café. little did you know that he used this time to snoop through your room. he managed to find your diary, which he would read before carefully placing it back where it was. other times he would look through your dresser, staring at all your lingerie sets. oh how he wished he could just rip them off of your body, leaving pretty red marks on your oh so delicate skin. his mouth always salivated at the thought.

his most recent infatuation was giving you his hoodies. not only were they oversized on you (which he found incredibly adorable and hot at the same time), whenever you returned them they smelled like you, which drove him crazy. your scent was so incredibly intoxicating to him. to armin, your scent was a mixture of strawberries, lemon, and lavender. it wasn’t long before he became addicted.

night after night he would buck his hips into his fist while wearing the hoodies that smelled like you. he would stare at your pictures, chanting your name like a mantra while he came all over his hand. he would go two or three rounds, falling asleep with his hand covered in his cum.

“hey armin, can you come here for a second?” the two of you had been doing homework for the past few hours. you were wearing shorts that were way too short for you and one of armin’s hoodies that he had so graciously let you borrow. “of course, give me one second,” he quickly finished writing something down before getting up and coming to sit on the couch with you. “what’s up?”

you moved closer to him, causing a small blush to appear on armin’s cheeks. “well, i’m having trouble with this math problem. i was wondering if you could help me?” the way you looked at him through your lashes, armin could have swore he about creamed his pants right then and there. “oh uhm, uh sure!” he stuttered.

you leaned down and grabbed your textbook before setting it in his lap, allowing your hand to linger on his thigh a little longer before pulling it away. armin could have swore that you were trying to give him a heart attack. every part of his body felt like it was on fire. he was just. so. warm.

“so, where do i start?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts. shaking his head, he looked at the book. for some reason, nothing was registering to him. his eyes saw the ink on the page, but his brain couldn’t understand what it was asking. “you start with.. with..” every time armin spoke, his voice just trailed off. “armin, are you feeling alright?” he felt your palm on his forehead, sending yet another wave of heat coursing through him. “yes! i’m just fine..” he carefully grabbed your hand and put it on his thigh.

he couldn’t deny the tent in his pants, but he was praying you wouldn’t notice. “fuck.. i’m so attracted to you.” he mumbled under his breath. “what did you sa-,” within a second he had picked you up and set you in his lap, forcing you to look at him. “a-armin?!” you were taken aback by his sudden actions, but you weren’t gonna lie, you were slightly turned on.

“how long are you gonna play stupid, huh?” he grunted. shaking your head, you just looked at him. “what do you mean?” confusion swarmed your brain. play stupid? how were you playing stupid? how did you even get to this point? all you wanted was help with a simple math problem!

“what do you mean,” he mocked. “seriously? don’t fuck with me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “how long were you gonna sit here and fucking tease me? don’t think i didn’t notice your outfit. those shorts that are obviously too fucking short for you. your ass is practically hanging out of them. and my hoodie? i bet you don’t have anything on underneath it.” it was like armin had just flipped a switch. your once kind, innocent, friend was now basically degrading you for your choice in outfit.

“i, i really don’t get what you mean. armin i just.. i was just trying to be cozy i really wasn’t trying to dress like a slut or anything-“ words continued to pour out of your mouth as you became painfully aware of his growing erection. “please, i’m sorry, i’ll go change..”

“no.” his voice was low, yet demanding. “you wanna dress like a slut? fine, i’ll fuck you like a slut.” your hands were starting to tremble at his words. why was he being so mean? although his rough words were turning you on, you were still soft at heart. you could feel your eyes stinging as he continued to go on, telling you how much of a whore you were. “s-stop it. stop being so mean..” your voice quivered as tears dripped down your cheeks.

you felt his hand cup your cheek as he wiped your tears. “oh honey, i’m not trying to mean. i just love you,” his voice was sickeningly sweet. “i just want you to know how mean the real world is. how if you dress like this,” he motioned to your outfit, “you’ll be called a whore. but it’s okay baby, you’re not a whore. you’re a good girl, right?” you quickly nodded, sniffling a little. “that’s what i thought.”

he wiped the new tears that had fallen down your soft cheeks before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re my good girl, right?” he pulled back and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for a response. shaking your head, your voice trembled as you spoke. “mhm.. i’m your good girl.” an evil smile crossed armin’s face at your words. “of course you are.”

he moved his hand from your cheek to the hem of his hoodie. gently toying with the edge, he started to pull it up. he was immediately met with your skin, which left him with a satisfied smirk. “i was right, baby. you aren’t wearing anything underneath my hoodie.” he chuckled as he pulled it completely off of you. looking away, you tried to cover yourself. “ah, ah, ah, you’re not gonna hide from me are you? i love you, so why would you hide from me?”

his voice was like a trap. the second you heard it, you were stuck. he could always manage to get into your head. he would manipulate you, but part of you didn’t care. you craved his attention just as much as he craved yours. you needed armin just like he needed you, so why were you so scared of him in this moment?

“hey. i asked you a question pretty girl.” armin’s voice cut through your thoughts. looking at him, fear suddenly overtook you. this wasn’t your armin, was it? how.. how could it be? your armin held doors open for you. your armin walked you to class and locked pinkies with you when you were nervous. your armin gave you his jackets in cold classrooms, even if it meant he’d be freezing for the rest of the class period.

“quit. fucking. spacing. out.” armin wrapped his hand around your throat, gently squeezing to gain your attention once more. gasping, you weakly tried to pull his hand off your throat. “armin, you’re scaring me..” once the words left your mouth, his eyes softened and he immediately removed his hand. “oh honey, i’m not trying to scare you. i promise. i’m just trying to get your attention,” he brought your trembling body closer to his. “i wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

you didn’t realize how much you were shaking until armin held you against his steady body. more and more tears were slipping down your cheeks and were now wetting down his shirt. as he hugged your body closer to his, he unhooked your bra, allowing your breasts free of their constraints. “let me take care of you.” he whispered in your ear. nodding, you allowed him to carry you towards your bed.

thoughts swarmed your mind as armin gently set you down on your unmade bed. he made quick work of ridding you of your shorts and underwear. “who made you this wet baby?” he teased, watching as your cheeks turned a shade of pink. you covered your face with your hands, too embarrassed to say anything. “honey, i’m talking to you. now, answer me.” his voice was low when he spoke.

“y-you did, armin..” your voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper. “be louder. i can’t hear you.” he remarked. shaking your head, you couldn’t bring yourself to be any louder. suddenly, he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. he got all up in your face, your noses almost touching. “fucking say it.” he growled, his hot breath fanning your face. fear coursed through your veins as you spoke quickly, afraid of upsetting him even more. “y-you did! you made me this wet, armin!” your voice was louder now, which brought a satisfied smirk to his face. “atta girl. now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

you shook your head as armin used his middle and ring fingers to gather some of your slick. you bit your tongue, trying to suppress the moan building in your throat. using his thumb, he started to rub your clit. “let me hear those pretty noises of yours, liebling.” his slow, lazy circles on your clit started to get quicker and quicker, causing you to let out a whine. “armin.. armin wait!” truth be told, you had never done this before. and by this, you meant any of this. you had never masturbated. never had sex. sure, you read stories, watched porn, and listened to your friends talk about it, but you’d never done it.

“aw baby, what’s wrong?” he chuckled. he didn’t stop his ministrations, which caused you to whine. you tried to push him away, but it was to no avail. “i-i’ve never done this before..” you mumbled under your breath. “hm?” armin hummed as he sped his fingers up. “i-i’ve never done this!” you cried, your legs starting to shake a little. a shit-eating grin crossed armin’s features as he pulled his fingers away. it felt like you could finally catch your breath as your erratic breathing started to settle. sliding his fingers into his mouth, he sighed, satisfied. you tasted fucking heavenly.

closing your legs, you tried to sit up, only for armin to pin you back down again. he laughed in your face, the warmth of his body radiating off of him. “oh, my sweet, sweet schatzi, you’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? such a good fucking girl, waiting for me. you wanted me to take your virginity, didn’t you? you knew nobody else could please you like i would.” a feeling of possessiveness coursed through armin as he looked down at your features. you were made for him. now that he had you, he’d never let you go.

you were trembling underneath armin as he slowly started kissing down your body. as he did this, he started unbuckling his belt, the noise echoing loudly in your ears. your body felt like it was on fire as armin continued to kiss your delicate skin. kicking his pants to the side, armin stopped at your plush thighs and looked up. “you look so fucking perfect like this.” he mumbled before spreading your legs. he looked at your sopping cunt, a look of hunger in his baby blue eyes.

“i just know i’m gonna become addicted to you, more so than i already am of course..” he whispered before kissing your inner thigh. he gently nipped at the skin, causing you to squeal and try to move away from him. “stay still, damnit.” he huffed before using one of his arms to pin your waist down. he gingerly placed a kiss over the spot he bit before moving towards you dripping wet cunt. armin carefully licked a stripe up your soaking hole, relishing in the taste. it tasted like heaven to him.

he listened as you gasped at the feeling of his tongue being pressed against you. you didn’t know how to respond. it felt so weird. this was nothing like how any of your friends described it. your bare chest rose and fell as armin continued to kitten lick your cunt. his nose bumped against your clit, causing you to moan. “a-armin!” you cried as you allowed one of your hands to grasp his soft, blonde hair. he smirked before moving his mouth away. you looked down at him, his mouth covered in your essence. your cheeks felt as if they were on fire as he moved his free hand down towards your messy cunt.

you felt his fingers press against your hole, causing your eyes to widen. “w-wait!” you weren’t going to lie, you were scared. “it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. just relax.” he smiled before pushing his middle finger into you. your walls clenched around him, causing him to smirk. you were so damn tight. he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you. if you were squeezing his finger this much, just imagine how much you’d squeeze his dick.

“armin.. it feels weird..” you whimpered. “it’s okay baby. you just have to relax. you have to trust me.” he started pumping his finger in and out, trying to get you used to the feeling. the lewd noises had you gasping for air. “armin, please..” tears welled in your eyes again as you carefully bucked your hips a little. “there you go.” he cooed before carefully adding another finger. you felt your body start to relax as pleasure overtook your senses. “oh shit..” you mumbled.

armin could tell that you were finally starting to relax, which made him happy. he slowly started to speed his fingers up before leaning down and sucking on your clit. he watched as your mouth fell open and you searched for something to grab. “oh fuck! a-armin!” your legs started to shake a little, not used to this kind of pleasure. he hummed against your clit, curling his fingers to try and find that one spot inside of you. while he got you off on his fingers, he bucked his hips into the mattress, trying to give himself some sort of relief.

“please, please,” you whispered under your breath. it wasn’t long before you felt a weird pressure building in your lower stomach. “a-armin, stop. i feel weird! please stop..” you whimpered, pulling at the sheets. your hips lifted off the bed a little as you tried to get him to slow his ministrations. he pulled away from your clit and looked at you, his fingers speeding up yet again. he had stopped grinding his hips into the mattress now to help him focus on your climax. “it’s okay, honey. you’re gonna cum. just cum on my fingers. make a mess on them.” he smirked as you gasped one last time before cumming. your legs were shaking as tears flowed down your face. you weren’t used to these feelings, this pleasure.

withdrawing his fingers from you, armin immediately brought them to his lips and started to suck on them. you were so fucking addictive. he saw that your folds were glistening with cum, making his smirk grow wider. he reinserted his fingers into you and started pumping them back in and out. you tried to push his hand away, feeling overstimulated. armin ignored you and continued to finger you. while he did this, he slowly slipped his boxers off and threw them next to his pants.

“‘m gonna fuck you real good, sweet girl, don’t you worry.” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out of you. he quickly spit in his hand and rubbed himself a few times before looking down at you. “you’re okay with this, right?” even when he was caught up in the moment, he knew how to pull himself out of that mindset and take care of you. you looked at him and nodded, a slight smile on your face. your cheeks had slight tear stains on them from crying earlier, but neither of you minded, if anything, it turned armin on more.

he used the head of his cock to tap your clit a few times before cursing under his breath. “fuck, i forgot a condom, hold on.” he huffed. “no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it..” you flashed him a smile. armin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his features at your words. “oh sweet girl, you want it raw your first time? how sinful.” the words rolled off armin’s tongue and sent shivers down your spine. you could only shake your head as armin rutted against your soaking cunt.

“‘m gonna put it in now, schatzi. it’ll hurt at first, but you’ll be okay.” he mumbled before lining himself up with your entrance. you took a deep breath as armin started entering you. right off the bat your warm walls squeezed him, making his eyes roll back. holy fuck, you were so tight. you whimpered as he continued to push himself inside of you. he could feel your walls constricting around him, making him go insane. it felt so fucking good to be inside of you.

minutes felt like hours until he finally paused. “oh honey, i’m halfway in. you’re doing so fucking good.” at his words, you gulped. he was only halfway in?! how fucking big was he? you never got the chance to look at him before he started fucking you..

it almost seemed like armin could read your mind. he cupped your cheek in his hand and made you look at him. “i know i’m big, but it’s okay. you can take it. good girls like you just stay still and take it.” you just took a breath and nodded, wincing as he started pushing himself in again. it felt like you were being split in half, the pain seeming unbearable.

time continued to pass (slowly in your opinion), before armin’s hips stilled. “that’s my girl. see, i’m inside you now. can you feel me in your tummy, love?” he cooed. his eyes looked upon you lovingly as your heart was beating erratically in your chest. he gently pushed down on your stomach, causing you to gasp. “d-don’t do that!” the pleasure that shot through you when he did it startled you.

he chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. your kisses were just like he imagined, warm and welcoming. as you continued to kiss, he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in all at once. you broke away, gasping loudly. “a-armin!” you cried.

“shh, shh. you’re fine. you can take it. you’re okay.” he mumbled encouraging words to you as he gripped your waist. he started thrusting in and out, the sound of skin slapping together could be heard around the room. “oh baby, you feel so fucking good. squeezing me so much.” it wasn’t long before the pain started to turn into some sort of pleasure.

“such a greedy fuckin’ girl, hah.. can’t get enough of me? it’s like you’re sucking me back in. i don’t mind though, i’m all yours. ‘m gonna fuck you so good that you’ll never want anyone else but me.” he babbled on and on as he continued to thrust into you roughly. you just shook your head, agreeing with the blonde that was currently drilling into you. “only you. only want you. ‘m your special, sweet girl min..” you panted.

you sunk your nails into the sheets below you as you tried to ground yourself to reality. armin was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. “fuck, you’re so deep in me!” you whined. you could hear armin chuckle above you as he continued to fuck you roughly. “oh baby, you’ve gotta stop squeezing me like that.. ‘m gonna cum to soon if you keep doing— oh!” without realizing it, you had came on him.

your room smelled like sweat and sex. moans, pants, skin hitting skin, and squelching noises could be heard echoing around the four walls. “oh fuck baby.. good girl. cumming all over my fucking cock.” armin praised. you whined, your mind starting to go blank. if this would happen every time you had sex with armin, you would happily oblige.

“oh shit! sweet girl, i’m gonna cum. i gotta pull out..” armin whined, his hair sticking to his forehead. you violently shook your head. “p-please cum in me! please..” at your words, armin swore he could have came. “oh honey, you want me to come in you? want me to stuff you full of my cum the first time? you’re that addicted to me that you want me to stuff my kid into you? fucking hell sweet girl, you’d look so beautiful with my baby stuffed inside of you.” armin was mindlessly mumbling now. he was getting off on the thought of you being stuffed with his kid.

“yes! would be so perfect with your kid in me, min! would be so perfect..” you weren’t quite sure what you were saying as you felt like you were on cloud 9. your body was stuck in a state of euphoria as you felt armin’s hips still. he whined loudly as he started cumming.

your legs were shaking and pants escaped your parted lips as armin slowly started moving again. “wait! wait.. ‘m overstimulated!” you cried out, but he paid no mind to it. he leaned down, whispering in your ear, “i gotta make sure you’re full of my cum, sweetie. one load won’t do it. gotta breed you full, make sure you’re good and full.” you felt chills run down your spine. the intimacy of what you were doing, and him being so close, seemed to have you on edge.

a white ring had formed at the base of his cock, your cum mixing with his. the noises you two were making were downright sinful. “holy.. ahhh..” drool was starting to drip out of your mouth as armin continued to bully your pretty pussy with his cock. he used his free hand to wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth. “you’re drooling, pretty girl.” he teased.

his words weren’t registering in your brain as you continued to slip further and further into a dumbed out state. “oh come on, don’t tell me i’ve got you dumb on my cock already,” he laughed before letting out a moan. your walls squeezed his cock just right. “we’ve only went one round, darling.”

you mindlessly babbled some response. you were fairly sure what you said wasn’t even coherent words, but armin didn’t care. in fact, he found it quite adorable. “ah shit.. i’m not gonna last long if you keep fucking squeezing me like this, hah—“

your walls continued to squeeze and contract around him as the coil in your stomach snapped once again. you came all over him, loud moans escaping your sore throat. your legs were trembling and you could have swore that you were seeing stars. “m.. ma.. min.. oh min.. please-“ your voice was quiet, yet armin could still hear it.

“don’t worry, my love. i’m right here. ‘m gonna stuff you full of my cum, okay? you’ll be nice and full. gonna look so fucking precious with my child in you..” he hissed between clenched teeth. it only took a few more thrusts before armin came inside you again. his hips still, a sigh leaving his lips as he slowly pulled out. you had tears dripping down your cheeks, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

armin watched your cum, mixed with his, drip out of your abused cunt, a satisfied smirk on his face. “oh, sweet girl, you can’t waste my cum like this.” he frowned before taking his fingers and scooping it back up and pushing it back in you. you whimpered, not being able to form words. “gonna make sure you’re bred. gotta make sure you’ll have my kid. then you’ll never leave me..”

groaning, you slowly started to open your eyes. your lower body felt like it was being ripped to shreds, the pain feeling unbearable. as you started to gain your bearings, you noticed that you were dressed again. you had on a pair of lace underwear on, along with one of armin’s t-shirts.

what the? how did that happen? the last thing you remember was armin practically fucking your brains out. carefully turning your head, you saw armin fast asleep beside you. truth be told, you were too tired to be worried about how you got dressed again. yawning, you set your head back on your pillow, thinking about what happened.

how could your sweet, innocent armin say the things that he did last night? you coughed a little before pulling the blanket up more to cover your body. armin shifted beside you, but was still asleep.

as you continued to think, you could feel yourself slipping right back into sleep. the last thing you thought of before losing consciousness was the fact that even the sweetest honey can turn sour..

liebling :: german. term of endearment. means dear or darling.

schatzi :: german. term of endearment. literally means “little treasure” but is also said to mean sweetheart or darling.

#armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #armin arlert #armin aot #aot smut #armin snk #armin x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #˗ˏˋ saturn’s stories ´ˎ˗#→˚₊·🐚 ੭* r.o.s | a. arlert

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navybrat817 · 4 years ago

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Fun in the Lab

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You convince Bucky to have some fun in Tony's lab. Word Count: Almost 800 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, riding, dirty talk, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (we love him) A/N: Bucky was the second one requested, so here we go with drabble #2! Enjoy, lovelies!

Written on my phone and not beta read, so any and all mistakes are absolutely my own!

I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old. Enjoy, lovelies!

"You know. He may kill us if he finds us here."

"You? Maybe. But he likes me," you teased as you straddled Bucky, watching him lean back in the chair.

Tony Stark had a soft spot for you. Always had. He even supported your relationship with Bucky once the dust settled. And maybe you were taking a bit of advantage of that by being in the lab. But you couldn't resist playing around from time to time in places you knew you shouldn't.

Not that it took long to convince Bucky to have some fun. A few brushes against the front of his pants and a doe-eyed innocent look over your shoulder, he practically had you stripped before he took a seat and pulled himself out.

There was something hot about him still being in his jeans and Henley while you were undressed. He didn't even stretch or prep you. Part of you hoped it stung a bit. The burn was always a nice reminder that you could take a super soldier. Just like you were meant to.

His lips parted with a sigh as you began to take him in. But, for a second, a flicker of doubt filled his eyes. You paused, making sure he was okay. "Fuck. I'm serious. This is his chair. He might actually try to kill me."

Gripping his shoulders tightly when you knew you were in the clear, you leaned in to gently suck on his earlobe. "Then he shouldn't have given me access to this part of the lab."

Sinking onto Bucky's hard cock was always a thing of beauty, already making drowning in a sea of ecstasy. Every inch of him stretched and filled you until you couldn't think. You took a moment to stop and appreciate the feel of him, your walls quivering around his girth. The rational part of you told you had to be quick as you blinked through the growing haze of pleasure.

"Doll," he warned in a growl when he saw you smirk.

Any other protest died on his lips as you lifted your hips and slammed down. It filled you with pride that you could render the beautiful man speechless… That you could make those icy blue eyes fill with want that no one else could fulfil.

"What's wrong, Bucky? Cat got your tongue?" you asked sweetly as you rolled your hips. "Oh, wait. My pussy has your cock."

He swore in Russian as he snapped his hips, knocking the breath out of you with his rough thrust. The knot in your lower abdomen began to grow and tighten as he drove into you again, clenching hard around him as he took control. The coil inside you wasn't going to snap. It was going to explode.

"He has... cameras here," he snarled, watching your breasts bounce as a hand moved to your ass. "But you knew that," he added, the metal coming down with a loud "smack".

You shrieked as you threw your head back. "Of course. Wanna… watch it later."

"Dirty girl. Wanna see how gorgeous you are when you gush on my cock?"

"Yes!" you cried, your nails digging in as he helped you bounce.

"Fuck, I want you to stay nice and filled up," he grunted, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and squeezing. "But I'm going to watch you drip all over his chair when we're done. You're gonna leave a mess for him. And you're gonna tell him it's your fault because you were so desperate to have my cock in you."

You were so focused on the inferno burning inside you that you didn't reply. He, of course, managed to turn your little game against you. Another sharp swat to your backside made you moan. "Yes! Fuck. I'll tell him."

"Everyone thinks you're a good girl, but you know what?" he asked, not breaking the fast rhythm as he leaned up to suck on your earlobe. Just like you did to him. "You're my good girl. Say it."

"Yes. I'm yours," you swore, shamelessly chasing the orgasm you so badly needed.

He pressed kisses along your neck as he reached down, expertly rubbing your bundle of nerves.. "Then come, doll."

The husky tone made the dam break, gripping his hard length as it crashed over you. Your hips moved of their own accord, riding out your high as he painted your pulsing walls. You saw him smile as he slowly began to lift you, chuckling as you shook your head. He was ruining the afterglow.

"I said you're going to leave a mess for him. But don't worry. I'll fill you up once we get back to our room. Maybe we can even watch the playback while I do it."

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes x female reader

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

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Steve's balls

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

You can blame @gotnofucks for this abomination and sorry for the crass title I couldn't think of anything else🥺 This is just filth omg. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Sometimes your daddy can be shy to ask you to do things too (aka Steve wants his balls sucked)

Warnings - ball sucking, oral sex (m receiving), cum play, daddy kink, d/s relationship, dom Steve, insecure Steve, corruption kink, inexperienced reader.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 1k

Steve didn't think much of his balls or dick. He barely even ever saw himself naked. Even if he did, he could never see himself the way you do.

He doesn't think he's extraordinary or beautiful which is simply ridiculous because you can’t think of a single person more beautiful than your daddy.

Even before the serum he had the most sparkling eyes and brilliant smile. You told him so everything you saw the pictures. I'd marry preserum Steve in a heartbeat. But he didn’t believe you. He thought you were just being nice. He couldn’t protect you or provide for you back then the way he does now. He couldn’t do half the depraved things he does with you if he was still the same small, sickly kid.

You had only ever gone down on Steve a handful of times, even thought you both had been having sex for months now, Steve liked spending time between your legs more than having you on your knees. Which, well you can’t say no to because you loved riding his face.

You’re holding onto his monster cock in your hand, which looks so small and delicate against his pulsating member, and kissing his length and just worshipping it, you realise how beautiful his dick is.

Every part of your lover is beautiful to you, but this right here, in your hand, the most intimate part of his body, was truly a sight for sore eyes.

You pump his cock in your hand, watching in awe as the pearly cummies ooze out, "It's so beautiful, daddy," you tell him as you lick it up and wrap your lips around his tip to suckle at it.

"What's beautiful, princess?" he asked you, because he's a little out of it, his hand is still on the back of your head, softly pushing you down because he knows you need to be told and shown what to do and how to do it. You're so precious and innocent only ever seen his cock, only ever had him inside your mouth and cunt, will never have anyone else either, and there's a perverse thrill in corrupting you.

You pull away and he let's you so you could answer him, "Little stevie," wiping your mouth, your saliva and his preejaculate, with the back of your hand.

"Little Stevie?"

"That's what I call my friend here," you explain as you keep stroking his length.

"I'm beautiful?" he frowns because he's a little skeptical, you won't make fun of him or tease him, he knows that, you don't have a mean bone in your body, but how can a his penis be beautiful?

Sure your pussy is beautiful to him. But your pussy is magical and gorgeous. Something so small and tiny that takes his dick... it's wonderful! Be doesn’t know how you do it and he’s always up for exploring more of you.

His cock was literally just a snake. Not even a pretty one.

"Will you come in my mouth?"

"I always do honey," he shook his head, pushing your head back down on his cock. But then he felt your hand graze against his balls and it shocked him a little, he didn't expect it to feel so good.

"What happened?" you asked him because he was frozen.

"Nothing," he shook his head and made you swallow him whole again.

Like a month later...

Now that you had been making love to him with your mouth for quite some time, he knows you're not doing it out of obligation, that you actually like it and even get wet from it.

He has your head locked in one place as he uses your mouth, your eyes are watery and just keep looking up at him, so full of love for him. He can't believe you put so much faith in him and trust hum. Which is why he goes easy, slow almost, you can barely swallow half of him but that is more than enough.

"You love me, princess?" he asked you. He loves seeing you struggle. Because you obviously aren't allowed to talk with your mouth full but your first instinct is to say yes.

He pulls out then, his hard cock slaps against his abs, ready to try something different, because he trusts you not to shame him for it.

"Yes daddy, I love you so so much," you tell him as you try to catch your breath.

"I know, my angel. I love you more," he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, "Put your mouth on them. Just like I taught you to do for my dick, baby," He tells you, bringing his balls right next to your mouth.

You're confused at first but then realise he's talking about his ball sack. So you just nod your head like a good girl and get to work. It's easier and almost nicer to suck on them and play with them because they're so incredibly soft.

When Steve is just over the edge he pulls your head back over his cock and comes down your throat like he always does. This time though, it’s a little different, this time he knows he can tell you anything, that you love him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt and not judge him.

So he comes a little more than usual, you’re not able to get everything in your mouth, making a bit of a mess. Your mouth was glistening with his spend, some of it mixed with your saliva was in your breasts, some even in your lap, you tried to lick most of it.

“You look so pretty like this, doll,” he smiled, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that now. That you look so beautiful with you’re covered with his seed, it’s a literal physical reminder for you both, that you’re his.

He held onto your wrist to stop you from cleaning up any more of his seed, he needed to look at you covered in it for a bit more, bending down a little he captured your lips with his, tasting himself on you.

“You did such a good job,” he kept telling you. Because you had to know just how happy you made him.

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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zealoushound · 3 years ago

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The Two Detectives: The Backstory (part one)

Summary: Our favorite couple meets at her big brother’s surprise birthday party. Little did they know that night was the beginning of it all.

This is the first part (of two) of the backstory to The Two Detectives.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC

Word Count: 3,203

Warnings: Fluff. Adults drinking, one really inebriated man.

A/N: This story has become my baby, lol. Be good to it please. It took me so long to post because the second half was making it super long. With the push of fellow writers @littlefreya and @winter2112rose I decided to break it in half then post. The banner at the top was made by me and the one on the bottom was made by @firefly-graphics.

Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this wasn’t beta’d. Y’all overlook the mistakes please!

***

8 years ago….

It was my older brother Evan's surprise 30th birthday party. Evan was one of Minnesota's finest police officers. Amber, his fiancé, had set everything up; the decorations, the food. She had invited his friends, family, as well as his closet coworkers. She had us all park up the street and walk back to his place, then jump out, yelling “surprise!” when he walked in. I’ve never seen anyone so excited to turn 30!

After hugging Evan, I went to sit with a few friends. I had grabbed myself a drink before sitting with them instead of mingling like Amber had suggested. After twenty minutes of catching up, the topic turned to men as it usually does between three single women. Casually scoping the room, commenting on a few cute guys when Anna admonished, “Good God, that guy is fucking huge!”

“Where? Oh. How did we miss him?” Asked Megan. Her eyes were as wide as saucers.

My curiosity got to me. I tried to look around as subtly as possible, thinking how impossible that feat would be with two other women ogling him at the same time. Then I saw him. “Wow...” was all I could muster. I doubt anyone had even heard me because it had come out as more of a whisper than anything.

He was standing against the wall next to the small bar just outside the kitchen where a few of Evan’s coworkers sat. He was tall, god was he tall; he was also broad in the shoulders which made him look even more massive. He had on a dark blue pullover, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, dark blue jeans and the largest pair of boots I’d ever seen.

He was listening intently to whatever the other men were telling him. Trying to hear every word over the loud music coming over the speakers in my brother's large living room. His brown curls bounced as he laughed with the people at the bar.

“Dibs!” Megan shouted as Anna and I looked at her dumbfounded. “What? I want that.” I shook my head as she stood fixing her dress.

“Bitch!” Anna jested as she walked away from us, and up to the tall stranger. Megan flipped her off in return.

I turned back around not interested in seeing my friend hitting on the hottest man in sight. I’d gotten out of a relationship two months beforehand and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I just needed a little release.

Anna began talking about the cat she’d adopted a few minutes later. “His name is Midnight!” She showed me his picture on her phone. “He’s so sweet! He’s solid black, and loves nothing more than to lay in my lap, getting petted. Now if I could just find a man that wanted that!” We laugh heartily. “Uh-oh.” She commented, looking behind me over my shoulder. “Tall, dark and handsome must have shot her down.

Megan humpft back down in her chair. “How’d it go, Megs?” I asked nicely.

“He wouldn’t even speak to me. His friend tried to hit on me!” She pouted.

“Shit, you should’ve gone for the friend!” Anna laughed, looking over to see the guy smiling back at us. “Looks like he’s still interested,” she added, taking a pull off her beer.

“He was kinda cute…” Megan turned and looked at the guy that had hit on her. He waved at her. She made a little motion with her head and they both got up.

“Oh Meg, do not fuck someone in my brother’s house!” Megan laughed in response. “If you go anywhere you best call an Uber!” Realizing half the people here were cops, and that probably was a given, I felt a bit stupid saying that, but Megan was, well, Megan so it felt right to say it anyway. Anna and I stayed and spoke for a while longer.

“Huh. He left.” I gave her a confused look. “Tall guy.” I turned to look, and sure enough ‘Tall Guy’ was missing from the bar, but my eyes landed on my big brother who was there instead; I smiled at him.

“Abigail! C‘mere! I want you to meet everyone!” Evan shouted, waving me over to the bar. Evan had always liked to show me off. “Smartest in the family,” he’d always say to people then tell them what I was in school for.

“I’ll mingle.” Anna winked at me when I looked back at her, giving her my ‘help me’ eyes. She just smiled, shaking her head and shooed me away. I made my way over to the bar, adjusting the hem of my shirt over my pants as I stood.

Evan introduced me to Rachel, Robert, Jacob, and Linda. Rachel was so nice, and was genuinely intrigued by my choice of majors. I was in school for biomedical science and taking a few chemistry classes, working my way up to astrophysics.

“Wow, Abigail. I’m very impressed. You've accomplished all of this at 28?” She smiled genuinely.

“Thank you. Actually, I’ll be 28 next month.” I was a little uncomfortable, but it was nothing new. I would alway get nervous talking to new people, especially about my profession. Some people were intimidated or they thought I would be weird because I was more ‘advanced’ as some would say. Most just left me alone, therefore I didn’t have that many friends outside of school. Anna and Megan had been my best friends since first grade, they were used to it.

Robert, the quiet guy who had been sitting by ‘Tall Guy’, as he’d been renamed in my head, piped up, “Really? My birthday is next month too, the 24th!”

“Mines the 22nd!” We smiled at each other.

“Maybe we can celebrate together?” He leaned in, and spoke softly into my ear. I was slightly buzzed, and very interested. I put my hand on his leg.

“Maybe.” I smiled back at him.

Evan cleared his throat loudly causing me to look up. “Where did Walter go? I wanted you to meet him too.”

“Probably in the kitchen for a refill.” Linda answered. Looking down at my almost empty bottle I decided it was time I got another myself.

“Speaking of refills, anyone else want anything?” I asked standing up. Two more beers were requested. Robert offered to help, but I needed a breath so I told him I had it. Walking into the kitchen I looked around. No ‘Tall Guy’ in sight, I heard Anna’s laughter from the other room. I smiled thinking how long it had been since I’d heard her laugh like that.

I opened the large blue ice chest on the floor by the island and took out three bottles, sitting them on the marble countertop. Noticing the cooler was getting a bit low I decided to at least take one task off of Amber’s hands for the evening. I closed the lid back and walked into the pantry to get another case of beer to refill the almost empty cooler. The cases were stacked up way too tall and I was struggling to get the top one down.

I stood on my toes to reach for the box on top causing my shirt to ride up showing my midriff to anyone who happened to walk by. I grunted, trying again to no avail. I huffed and put my hands on my hips. That was when I heard a deep voice with a smooth British accent come from behind me. “Need some help?”

I turned to look at the polite stranger, ‘oh shit, Tall Guy! Don’t say anything stupid!’ “Uh, yease,” ‘fuckingshitdamnit, try again!’ Blinking my eyes I tried to refocus and correct myself, “uh, that should have been yes, please. Thank you.” Mentally punching myself in the face, I just grinned like an idiot when he smiled at me.

He reached up, taking the top box, which was just above head level for him, off effortlessly. “Where would you like it?”

‘Anywhere you wanna put it. Oh, don’t say that for fucks sake.’ “O-Over on the island is fine.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, as he turned to go back into the kitchen. Biting my lip, I watched his ass shamelessly as he walked away. ‘Damn.’ I came up behind him to see only one bottle remaining on the counter. I looked back into the main room to see the others drinking. Evan over exaggeratedly mouthed, “I got ‘em,” and winked terribly at me.

I smiled back, “He’s so drunk.” Tall guy looked to where I had been looking as I opened the box.

He chuckled with only a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “They all are.” He said matter of factly as he took a swig of his drink. ‘Jesus even his hands are sexy... oh wow, his fingers are so long!’ Shaking myself out of the trance he’d unknowingly put me under I quickly busied myself with the task at hand.

I opened the box and put it on the floor beside the cooler. I fished the older coldest drinks to the side so I could put them back on top. I was bent at the waist which meant my ass was on full display for anyone looking and hopefully that anyone was Tall Guy. I could hear my mother in my head ‘bend like a lady now, Abigail.’ All I could think was, ‘yeah ma, you’re not the one who hasn’t been laid in 6 months.’

“Your brother has a very nice home.” He said politely. Somehow it was a good bit quieter in the kitchen even though it was just off the main room. I stood up once I had all the drinks in the cooler, closing the lid back.

“He does. How did you know I was Evan’s sister?” Of course Evan had probably told him about me but I was tipsy, therefore I wasn’t thinking properly.

“Evan talks about you a lot. He’s very proud of his little sister. He also pointed you out when you got here. I’m Walter.” He extended his hand to me. ‘So Tall Guy was the guy he wanted me to meet earlier.’

I wiped my wet hands on my jeans then took his. Walter’s hand absolutely dwarfed mine. I instantly felt butterflies looking into his eyes as he held my hand. His eyes were so incredible; I’d never seen a deeper, darker blue. I barely fought the urge to touch the beautiful mop of curls that sat atop his head. “You can call me Abi.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Abi.” Setting his drink down he rubbed my hand with both of his. “Give me your other.” He said looking down expectantly. My other hand was slightly trembling when I brought it up to his palm. “Did the ice make you that cold, love?”

��Oh boy…’ “N-oh, no I just,” he brought my fingers, cupped in his massive palms, to his lips, and blew soft, slow puffs of warm air across them; his eyes never leaving mine. “That feels so nice.” I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations. I felt a slight rush of dizziness reminding me that I was still tipsy. “Coffee,” my eyes sprung open. Walter looked up at me, surprised by my outburst. “I need coffee. Would you like some?”

“Sure. As long as I can drink it here with you.” I felt myself blush like a schoolgirl.

“Of course,” I reluctantly let my hands slide away from his. “Thank you. They finally have some feeling back in them now.” He smiled kindly at me. I got the feeling he didn’t show that smile to a lot of people.

As I started the coffee Walter leaned over the counter by the sink next to me. “Smells delightful.”

“Mhmm, I love the smell of coffee brewing.” I responded not really sure with my words again.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee.” I was confused until he stood up, reaching out, letting his fingertips graze my neck; that was when I realized he meant me.

“Oh? Oh! Ah… thank you. Anna gave me this perfume as an early birthday present.” I reached up to touch the heated path his fingertips had just traced.

He leaned in closer, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. “She has exceptional taste. She picked out the perfect fragrance for you.” He put his other hand on my hip and drew me towards him. I stood with him, he pressed me fully against his hard stomach. I leaned up, tilting my head as he slowly brought his own down.

“No way! I don’t care what the score is! Lawson is gonna lose this bet!” We separated as Evan along with a friend I hadn’t met yet entered the room.

“Heey! Baby sister!” He hadn’t called me that in years, oh he was definitely drunk. “I see you met the detective!” He was slurring a bit and far too loud to be in this room.

“I did. Ah, you think you’ve maybe had enough there Ev?” He was scooping another beer from the cooler.

“Nooo. I’m off tomorrow anyways. I’ll be find. No, I’m find. Fiiinnee. Fine. See?” Amber walked in just in time to see that debacle.

“Oh I see how ‘find’ you are sweetheart. Let’s get you upstairs, what do you say?” He laughed and pulled her close by her ass.

“You just wanna get me in bed!” I stifled a laugh looking over at Walter who was looking at me, grinning. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes and started looking for mugs. I tapped him on the shoulder to show him the mugs were on the top shelf of the cabinet by the refrigerator.

When he reached up, getting two mugs at once I got a nose full of his body wash. I quietly produced an involuntary moan. He leant down to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to make you do that on purpose.” I released a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Evan must have noticed our interaction because he just had to say “Walter and Abi k-i-s-n-g.” Amber hit his shoulder, shushing him. “Firsts comes… I nont remember the words babs.” He looked at me with a delirious smile. I just shook my head.

“Evan. Do you remember who your boss is?” Walter asked with his back to Evan, replacing the coffee pot after filling our mugs.

Evan’s face went pale, his smile disappeared. “Uh. You Detective Marshall.” I chuckled to myself. “G’night Adbigail. G’night Defect-Detect, Detective.” He shook his head like a rejected puppy, letting Amber lead the way.

She looked back at us while guiding him out into the main room. She laughed, “I’m so sorry!” I waved her off as they left.

Walter handed me my mug. I blew on it gently, taking a careful sip. “Mmm, thank you. Hey, let’s go somewhere quieter.” I was feeling bolder now. I took his hand leading him over to the back deck. It had started getting cooler at night again but Amber had the fire pits going so it was warm enough to be comfortable.

Evan always kept a blanket in the muck room off the porch so I grabbed it on the way out. We sat down on the couch by the fire. A few people were still outside talking but we didn’t care.

We talked for hours that night under that blanket, sipping coffee by the fire. I didn’t realize it then but I’d already fallen for him. Walter was going to be my life’s greatest love, all I had to do was wait and see.

We talked about our families, our jobs; what we hoped the future would bring. He was very interested in my career choice as well as I was in his. Turns out he’d lead the big investigation that rocked the county a few months prior. The one that my brother refused to tell our mom about his involvement in, fearing that she would make him leave the force.

Walter’s career had been a very successful one. He was a father. I secretly, stupidly, wanted to meet her because when he spoke of her his eyes lit up. “She’s little but she’s mighty.” He showed me a picture of a beautiful curly brown haired little girl with his smile. “She’s 8. She’ll be 9 in December.” He looked lovingly at his phone's glowing screen.

“Oh Walter, she’s darling!” I touched his arm then looked up to his eyes. “Would you ever like to have more?” ‘Oh I hope he doesn’t think I’m fishing for a donor.’

He grinned at the picture then locked his phone. “Maybe. With the right woman I suppose I would. Faye's mom and I didn’t want anymore at the time so when she was two I decided to have a vasectomy. We figured it was easier that way; then I could reverse it whenever we decided on another, if we ever did.” I tucked my foot underneath my other leg. His arm wrapped around my knee holding me to him over the blanket. His fingers skimmed over my covered thigh.

He looked down with a solemn expression, taking a deep breath. “A year and a half after that we decided to get divorced instead.” He cast his eyes up to me. “Being married to a cop isn’t an easy job. She was always worried. I was never home and when I was, we were constantly arguing. It was the best thing for Faye. I realized after it was over that we worked better this way. No more fighting, just being parents.”

I was in awe of his candor. The gentle way he spoke about his past relationship with the mother of his child. I could tell he still had a great deal of respect for her. We kept on talking, kept refreshing and refilling our mugs.

Until I shivered, that is. I looked down at my watch: 2:18 am. “Walter, we’ve been out here talking for three hours now.” I smiled at him as he pushed the logs around on the fire again while holding my legs that were now draped over his lap. “You wanna go back inside? It seems quieter now.”

“Yeah most everyone had left the last time I went in for a refill.” He looked down at his mug as he sat back. “I didn’t want to tell you though.” He sheepishly admitted. “I didn’t want this to end.”

I took him by the chin and made him look at me. “This doesn’t have to end, Walter. We can go upstairs.”

“You want me to come upstairs with you?” He looked dumbfounded.

Confused by his question I responded with, “Of course I do. Only if you want to, that is.” I had assumed he knew that.

He swallowed hard as I took my legs out of his lap. “Lead the way.” I grabbed his hand as he stood with the blanket in the other.

Leading him back into the house I got butterflies. I smiled to myself thinking about when he’d told me earlier that almost didn’t even come tonight.

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

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#zealoushound writes #walter marshall fluff #walter marshall fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall ofc #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfic #walter marshall imagine #walter marshall x reader

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kireimarkeu · 4 years ago

Text

We got Married!; mk.l

[johnny]

character: oc x husband!mark lee

summary; where you and mark join a television show as husband and wife.

genre; fluff!

word count: 5.6k

a/n; i wasn’t really planning to write a wgm ver for mark, but i had so much ideas suddenly come to me so here it is :) i think i’ve grown and has written different kinds of fics, and i feel really confident in this one! i think you can see the difference if you read the johnny one compared to this hehe :) i really hope you guys like this because i reallyyyy did!!!

also, thank you guys for 500 followers! i havent done much but repost old works, but still got followers lmfaooo

also a little note: bold + italic means mark is in the studio watching the show together

italic means questions are being asked to y/n and mark in the interview area

enjoy you guys :)

Episode 22

“Hello, I am NCT Mark and I am 22 years old,” a smile adorns his lips as the boy next to you bow at the camera.

“Hello, I am Mark’s wife, Y/N, and I am 21 years old,” you greet, bowing politely at the camera.

“This is the first time we have very young guests coming to our show,” one of them said.

“I think many fans are wondering why you had gotten married at such a young age?” one asked.

Another continued, “yeah, I don’t think it’s common in Korea,” they said, “I heard that Mark used to live in Canada for some time, is it common to get married at such a young age, there?”

Mark chuckles, shaking his head, “No, no, we both decided to get married young because we have always talked about spending our 20s together.”

“How long have the both of you been married?”

Mark looks at you before answering, “We got married just a few months ago, actually.”

“To be exact, it has been about 4 months now,” you continued.

“How long did you guys date?”

“We dated for about 3 years, before we both decided that we wanted to get married straight away,” your husband answers.

“Wait, 3 years? But the news of you guys dating came out a year ago, though?”

“We dated secretly~” Mark replied shyly.

“You guys are the youngest couple to be on our show, has anyone been opposed to the idea of you guys getting married at such a young age?”

Your hand lands on your husbands shoulders, “to start, of course we received a lot of hate comments online when the news came out, but we knew this was what we wanted, so we never really doubted for a second.”

Mark agrees with your words, “yeah, our parents were also a little skeptical by our plans but we were adults and had explained clearly why we wanted to get married at such a young age.”

You hum along with Mark’s words.

“Tell us honestly, was it hard dating someone when you are one of the biggest boy group in Korea?” one of them asked Mark.

Mark though for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should spill out the truth or just butter everything up. “Well, of course it was. I knew what I was getting into and so did Y/N,” he says, “and as expected we knew that if we get caught, there would be tons of comments about us.”

“How did you overcome the mean comments?”

“Of course, we had both shared tears because of those comments, but we promised to never leave each other because of what others think.”

The scene started with the both of you eating breakfast at the dinner table.

The casts of We Got Married started laughing at the sight of Mark’s bed head.

“You know, we really need to go grocery shopping,” you tell your husband who was sitting before you.

He hums, “we’ll go this afternoon, I need to get some things too,”

You swallow your food, “what things, babe?”

“Doyoungie’s birthday is just around the corner, and I wanna bake him a cake,” he tells you.

You squint your eyes at the boy, “bake? Are you sure you won’t burn down our kitchen?”

He rolls his eyes at your words, “I’m a grown up, babe, I definitely know how to bake,”

“Didn’t Mark went trending for a while when he cooked eggs?” the members laugh.

“I remember that!”

.•° ✿ °•.

The scene changed to the both of you in the grocery store. You were searching for ingredients that you had written down in your phone.

You would often forget items, so before you leave the house, you would type down all the things you would need in your phone.

Mark on the other hand, would get food on impulse- mostly snacks and instant food. You don’t mind, but space is limited, every time your husband joins you, he would overspend and in the end, you wouldn’t have space to keep all the extra food.

“Baby, you know we don’t need all these,” you sigh tiredly, your hand gesturing to the different types of chips laying in the cart. “Just pick one, honey, we can’t have everything from the store,” you say exasperatedly.

Mark pouts at you but quickly removes most of the chips until there was 2 left. You decided to close an eye since you saw one of the new chips that you had been dying to try out.

“Have you gotten the ingredients for the cake?”

Mark raises his eyebrows at your words, his hands digging through the pile of food in the cart before pulling out a box of cake mix.

Episode 27

“Let’s welcome the couple who has received good remarks after coming to our show!” one of them said, followed by a series of claps.

“Wah~ I really did not expect to receive so much nice comments,” Mark says with his hands placed on his chest, “Thank you so much everyone, y/n and I spent the whole night reading all of your comments.”

“Actually, I’m curious,” one of them quickly adds in, “how did the baking go for your member’s birthday?”

“I ended up burning the cake, so Y/N helped me from scratch,” he says sheepishly.

The casts laugh in unison.

“Did Doyoung know?”

Mark shakes his head, “I lied and told him that I was the one who made the cake, but he didn’t believed me, so I ended up telling him the truth,” Mark says, flustered.

The scene started with the both of you walking in the park. Strings of coos left the casts lips when they saw you wearing a dress with your hair braided to one side.

With squinted eyes, the both of you tried to find a good shaded spot in the park before putting down a disposable picnic mat, placing each of your shoes on each corner to prevent it from flying around.

You place the picnic basket in the middle of the mat while Mark took a seat, enjoying the view. You took out all the food that you had prepared a few hours prior.

“Do you need help, babe?” you hear your husband ask from beside you.

You shake your head, “I’m good,”

After you had settled all the food down, you finally let your legs stretch before you, leaning your head on your husband’s shoulder.

Mark’s hand that was previously resting on the plastic picnic mat, finds yours, lacing his fingers with you, “this is nice isn’t it?”

You nod, letting out a satisfied hum. You point towards his phone, “I think you have some songs prepared for this particular moment, am I right?”

“Oh, Mark do you actually have multiple playlists for different occasion?” one of the cast asks.

Mark nods sheepishly, “I think it just became a habit of mine,”

“I’m not surprised though- he is in the music industry after all, I think it is pretty common, right?”

“I suppose so? It just doesn’t feel right to me if the music doesn’t match with the vibes.”

Mark reaches out for his phone, clicking on a particular playlist called ‘when the sun’s out’. Soon, the first song started playing softly in the background.

A content sigh leaves your lips, “you know, if I had to choose one thing I’m grateful for you, it has to be your taste in music,” you tell him, quickly pressing your lips against his cheeks softly.

Mark turns red at your gesture, his hand clutching yours tighter.

“Now I’m curious, what is your favourite song at the moment,” one of them asks, turning to face Mark.

“I really like Justin Bieber a lot,” he answers, “But right now, I can’t stop listening to Good Days by SZA.”

An hour has past by, most of the food already gobbled up by you two.

“Babe,” Mark calls, poking you on the arm.

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he asks you, “you woke up super early to make food.”

A soft smile spreads across your lips, “a little, why?”

Your husband softly pats his lap, “come lie down and nap a little. The wind feels really good right now,”

You cleaned everything up and made space for yourself. You comfortably laid your head on Mark’s lap.

“You know,” you started, “I really wish I could look at you right now, but the sun’s too bright.”

Mark rolls his eyes, “don’t be annoying and go to sleep,” he says, his finger softly flicking your cheek.

A soft laughter left you before you finally shut your eyes, dozing off quietly while laying in your lover’s lap.

Once Mark realises that you were asleep, he quietly raises his hands to cover your face from the sun.

“Awww! You are such a romantic, Mark!”

When you realise the bright light was gone, you open an eye to look at your lover who was looking at his phone, with his hand still high up to cover you from the bright sun.

A smirk adorns your lips, your eyes shutting close. You grab his hands, startling your husband. Lacing your fingers with his, you bring them down to your chest.

“I don’t want your arms to be in pain,” you mumble, stroking his hands with your thumb.

You hear Mark scoff at your statement, “I think I can handle it, babe. But, whatever you say.”

A few moments later, you feel his sculpted hands playing with your hair. He would occasionally massage your scalp or tangle your hair between his fingers.

You didn’t say a word, feeling comfortable.

The episode ended with Mark pressing a long kiss on your forehead, before pulling away.

“This couple is too cute!”

“It’s really unfair that I’m still single, this couple makes me want to get married so bad!” one of them agrees.

Episode 35

“After a long time, the couple is finally back again for another episode!” the cast says excitedly, “the last time they were here, the couple went on a romantic picnic date, leaving us all with envy!”

Mark laughs at their comment.

The scene started with the both of you entering the SM building. You had a cap and a mask on, hopefully to cover your identity from the fans waiting outside.

Although the news of you guys being a married couple had came out a few months ago, there were times where you did not feel like getting your pictures taken. Which, to be honest, was a rare moment for you and Mark since he is one of the biggest boy group.

You held onto your husband’s hands who was leading the way to the practice room.

Once he finds an available room, Mark quickly puts his things down on an empty table.

“Okay, so first we need to do some stretching so we don’t hurt ourselves when we dance later,” Mark tells you.

“Why did you want to dance?”

“To be honest, I really hate working out,” you tell them truthfully, “so I asked Mark if he could teach me some dance choreography,”

“Are you good at dancing?”

You laugh, “absolutely not! I have never danced in my life, so this is my first time.”

“She’s too adorable!”

“Babe, can we do something super easy?” you request, taking off your cap since it was covering your vision.

Your husband nods, “yeah, we’re gonna do Kick It today.”

You wince at that. Kick It is the easiest he could think of? You didn’t say anything, following whatever your husband says.

“Okay, so, we won’t do like- the whole choreography,” your husband enunciate. Just as you were about to let out a relieved sigh, Mark continues, “we’ll do from the first chorus onwards.”

Your mouth went wide.

The casts laugh at your reaction.

“Okay, so the chorus kinda goes like this-” he shows you, looking at you through the mirror, “you know it right? you’ve done it before,”

You were at a loss of words, “I mean- I guess? But it’s not perfect so you still have to teach me!” you whine.

Why is he going so fast? you though to yourself.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles.

For the next few hours, Mark teaches you the choreography step by step.

Your husband was standing behind you, his hands resting on yours, positioning your hands at the right position.

However, you ruined the romantic moment by stepping away from the male and turning to face him with furrowed eyebrows.

The casts let out a series of grumbled sighs.

“Why did Y/N step out? It was such a romantic moment!”

“Exactly!” the other adds on.

“Can we please take a break?” you whine, wiping the sweat that was rolling down your forehead, “I’m so tired,” you huff out, throwing yourself at your husband as he captures you in his arms.

Mark chuckles, agreeing. He grabs your hand, pulling you to sit down on the empty chair. He quickly runs to the other side of the room to grab two bottles of water, opening one of them and passing it to you.

He opens one for himself before gulping half of the bottle down his throat.

After you had gulped the whole bottle down, you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t know it would be this tiring,” you confess, “is this what you go through everyday?”

The boy chuckles, “yeah, but a shorter period.”

You roll your eyes at his statement, “Okay, show-off,” you joke.

Meanwhile, in the background, Kick It was playing on repeat. An idea pop in your head.

“Wanna know something?” you asked your boyfriend.

He nods.

“I’ve been practicing your rap part of this song,” you tell him, “I can rap your part word for word without any mistakes,” you say arrogantly, a smirk forming on your lips.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, “my part is coming up, I would love to see you try, babe.”

You stand up from your sitting position with your bottle of water in hand. Getting ready for the verse, you bring your hand that was holding the bottle to your mouth- pretending it was a mic.

“I’m really excited to see Y/N rap,”

“Me too, she seems so confident,” the other adds on.

When the verse started playing, you rapped your husband’s part.

Mark started laughing hysterically when you started mumbling random words. “Dude!” your husband laughs, his hand slapping his knee multiple times when you rap incoherently.

His laughter only ceased when the music stopped. “Oh my god,” he says breathlessly, his fingers wiping the tears from his eyes. “I think you should replace me in NCT,” he jokes.

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a group come in. You turn around swiftly, your eyes widening when you see the familiar girls walk in.

“Oh, oh,” Wendy cheers, “what’s the couple doing in the practice room alone?”

“Oh my god, is that Red Velvet?” one of them asks, looking over at Mark with widened eyes.

Mark laughs and nods his head.

“Oh.. perhaps, you could ask them for their autograph the next time you see them,” they ask sheepishly, “my bias is Seulgi,” they quickly add on.

Mark laughs harder at that, “sure, if I see them around, I’ll make sure to ask for their autograph,”

“Oh hello,” you greet the girls, they bow politely back at you.

Your husband chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he greets the girls. “I’m just practicing with Y/N”

Mark never got the chance to properly meet them in private- it was either with his members or never. Hence, he felt a little nervous seeing them in private.

Irene raises her eyebrows, “are you guys performing for something?” she asks, pointing at the both of you.

You shake your head, “I just wanted to learn for fun,”

Wendy nods, “are you guys going to practice some more?” she asks, looking at the both you expectantly, “cause’, if you guys want to, go ahead. Our choreographer is going to be late so we have time to spare.”

Mark checks the time on his watch before shaking his head, realising it was already pretty late and didn’t want to disturb the girls with their schedule.

“No, it’s fine, we have to go anyway. I don’t want to steal your hour,” he says politely.

Ever since Mark had debut years ago, it was very hard for this group to book the practice room. So, whenever they managed to get the room, they would often use the room until the next person comes in.

You and Mark start packing up your things as the girls settle down and starts stretching.

The girls bid the both of you goodbyes as you quickly left the room.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands clutching onto your husband’s arm as he looks at you in astonishment. “I just met Red Velvet,” you say to the boy next to you.

You hit his arm multiple times, “I literally met Red Velvet! I even talked to them, babe!” you squealed, hitting his arms harder. That was until Mark grabbed your hands for you to stop hitting his poor arm.

“Y/N hasn’t met Red Velvet?” they ask. Mark shakes his head, no. “Why not?”

“I knew she liked Red Velvet but she never really asked me if she could meet them,” Mark explains, “and we had this conversation before- meeting the other people in my company,”

“What about?”

“Y/N told me that she didn’t want to take advantage of my privilege, even though when I told her it was fine,” Mark explains. “So she never really asked about wanting to meet Red Velvet, or any of the other people in my company.”

“Jeez- babe,” he chuckles, putting your hand down and instead wrapping his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “You were never that excited when you see me,” he jokes.

The both of you reach the ground floor, stepping out of the elevator.

“That’s because you’re not the prettiest girl group in the world!” you reply cheekily, a smirk playing on your lips.

“How long have you been a fan of Red Velvet?”

You hum, thinking back all the years you have been listening to their songs and collecting their PC Cards.

“I think it was a few months after debut?” you doubtfully reply. “It was when I had just came to Korea for school and one of their music was playing in a store, and I really liked it!”

Episode 43

“Ah, our Mark Lee! Where did you go?” the cast whined, tugging on his arms.

Mark cackle shyly, hiding his face slightly, “I’ve been very busy these days~” he says shyly, “my group had just finished promoting our recent full album,” he explains.

The casts cheers.

“I heard you guys won first for many awards!” one of them says, “congratulations to NCT! As expected, our talented group with many talents and visuals,” they compliment.

“Thank you,” Mark gives his signature grin, “actually, I felt bad for not being able to come on here for so long, so I actually brought our albums to gift it to you guys,” Mark says, reaching for the stacks of albums in the bag.

He hands each one of them the signed and personalised albums to the casts.

“I can’t wait to listen to this!”

“Is Y/N featuring in any of the songs?” they joke.

This time, the show started with you in the kitchen. You were cooking dinner since some of his members were coming over.

Mark on the other hand was sitting in the living room. He was seated on the floor, with papers spread all over the table. He had one of his hand holding a pen, swirling it around, while the other was pressed against his cheek.

“I wanted to produce a song with my own lyrics for this upcoming album,” Mark explains to the cast since they seemed to be a little confused.

“Have you produced a song with your own lyrics before?”

He nods, “I have, but I received help from others. This time I want to make a song that only has my own lyrics,” Mark explains.

“I never really got to ask an idol this question- but, is it hard to have your songs to be featured in an album?” one of them asks.

The spotlight was on Mark.

Mark nods, “it really depends. They usually focus on the music itself- since lyrics can be changed, but if the lyrics are too personal, most of the time they don’t really let you put it in a group album.”

“Did your song manage to be in the album?” one asks.

“Nope,” mark chuckles.

The casts laughs with Mark.

“Because it was too personal?”

Mark simply shrugs, and points at the screen to continue watching.

A heavy sigh leaves past the boy’s lips. He was staring blankly at the piece of paper.

The camera manages to capture everything that was written on the piece of paper. Messy scribbles was the only thing that could be seen.

“Babe,” you called. Mark quickly looks up at you, a pout on his lips. “Make sure you clean the table before the guys come,” you tell him, pointing to the mess on the coffee table.

This morning, Johnny had contacted Mark saying that he misses him and wants to visit. You quickly agreed, since you haven’t seen the boys in so long.

He hums, slamming his head softly on the coffee table, a groan coming out of him when he hit his forehead a little too hard.

A small chuckle left your lips when you heard his groans, “inspiration will come, babe,” you advise as you wipe the plates, “be patient.”

Mark turns his head so his cheek was pressed against the table as he stares at you.

“You look so pretty,” Mark mumbles, but you hear him clearly.

“Does Mark compliment you often?”

You nod slightly, “I wouldn’t say, all the time,” you exaggerate, “but it was definitely enough for me to know he loves me,” you giggle.

Mark continues to stare at you as you work on the food you were making. He was so deeply in love with you that sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he never met you.

He lays his eyes on you for the next 15 minutes. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you- but you had forgotten about it once you were properly focused on cutting the onions.

With heart eyes, a sweet smile spreads across your husbands lips.

The casts all coo at the romantic scene.

Mark finally sits up straight. With a grin plastered on his face, he grabs a clean sheet of paper and starts writing his feelings down. Surprisingly, he didn’t need a break, he continued writing for the next 30 minutes, satisfied with the lyrics.

“Did you write a song about Y/N?”

Mark nods, “I did, it was mostly how I felt about being with her.”

“Earlier you said that the song didn’t manage to be in the album, will you be posting the song on another platform?”

Mark scratches his head, uncertain, “I’ll have to ask my company about that,” he jokes.

Episode 47

“We’re finally back with our favourite couple! How are you, Mark?”

“Just fine, I’m preparing some things with my group, so I have been a little busy now a days,” Mark replies.

The casts sighs, “you’ve been working really hard, Mark.”

Mark simply chuckles awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

The show started with you sitting on the familiar chair in the building.

“Oh? The chair seems familiar?”

You had one of your legs crossed over the other with your right hand, holding your phone. You were scrolling through Instagram, hoping it would lessen your boredom.

After a few minutes, you put your phone down when you realised you’ve been scrolling for minutes now, but nothing had caught your eye on your feed. You let out an exhausted sigh, resting the palm of your hand against your cheek.

15 minutes later, your eyes widen when you see the familiar boys step out of the elevator.

You quickly stand up, walking up to the boys.

“Y/N!” they called, “oh my god, it has been forever since I last saw you!”

You giggle. Your eyes search for your husband but he was no where to be seen.

“He’s still upstairs, talking to the producer,” Johnny says when he notices you looking around.

You send him a smile, “I see. Are you guys going back home now?”

The rest of the boys were already walking away after tapping your shoulder to bid you goodbye without interrupting your conversation with Johnny.

“Jungwoo and Yuta are going to get dinner, the rest of us are heading home- it has been a long day, we’re all exhausted,” Johnny says dramatically.

The boy never fails to make you smile, “I know, Mark told me about your schedule.”

Johnny smiles, “also, Mark had a rough day,” he tells you. Your eyebrows raised in curiosity. You wondered what had happen.

“Did you know that Johnny had told Y/N about your day?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know, but I am thankful for him for always looking out for me.”

It was only 30 minutes later when you saw your husband step out of the elevator. Instead of his usual jog, he was stomping towards your direction. With the way he was walking and the all black outfit- it made him look even more intimidating then he already was.

Johnny was right, he definitely had a bad day today.

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, when he finally stands in front of you. You softly rub his arm, hoping it would calm him down a little, “you okay?”

Mark only hums, tugging on his bag when you attempt to take it from him. “i’ll carry it,” he says. You kept quiet, not wanting to worsen his temper.

The both of you quietly walk out of the building.

“Can we take a walk?” you ask, looking up at your husband.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows. Truthfully, he was already exhausted, but he would do anything you wanted. Mark shrugs, going with the flow.

The both of you started your walk in silence. Your husband had both hands tucked in his pockets with his lips pursed. You took multiple glances at the boy, wondering how you should comfort him.

After hesitating for a while, you wait until he has his hands out of his pockets. When you notice that he finally has his warm hands untucked, you instantly grab it in yours.

A smile form on your lips, when you hold on tightly onto his hands.

“Aw, she was trying to comfort you!”

“Wanna talk about it?” you speak up, tightening your grip on his hands.

Mark smiles, “not really, just thankful that I have you,” he says. You feel his thumb softly stroke the back of your hand, “you’re too good to me, Y/N.”

You scoff, “what do you mean? You are literally my soulmate, whenever you fall, I go down with you,” you reassure him. You nudge his shoulder with yours, “I’ll always be the shoulder you can lean on. No matter how bad it is, I’ll always be by your side.”

“How do you usually comfort Mark during his bad days?”

“He doesn’t talk about his feelings often,” you say, letting out a short chuckle. “But it’s pretty obvious, he isn’t very discreet with his emotions,” you laugh, nudging the boy next to you.

“Depending on how bad it is, I would try to leave him alone until he calls out for me.”

“Why won’t you talk about how you feel?”

“I have always grown up with this mindset- never give off negative energy to anyone who hasn’t done anything wrong,” he blurts out. “I feel like a burden whenever I would talk about my problems to anyone- not just Y/N.”

“I feel very thankful whenever he talks about his problems,” you say to the camera. “I feel proud that I am the one he could lean on.”

Episode 50

“Mark Lee is back!”

Series of claps could be heard from the room.

“I heard you had received multiple awards from MAMA!”

Another agrees, “that’s right! NCT won Favourite Male Group and Worldwide Fans' Choice Top 10! Congratulations to NCT!”

Another series of claps filled the room.

“Thank you so much! My group wouldn’t have received the award without all the loving support from all my fans,” Mark expresses his gratitude.

The show started with you sitting on the couch comfortably. You were deeply concentrated on watching something in front of you.

“What is she watching?”

The camera zooms out until the casts takes notice the television planted on the wall. The casts recognizes the ceremony playing on the television.

You were waiting for your husband’s group to start performing so you can take videos and pictures.

After watching the ceremony, you recognize the introduction to one of your husband’s songs. You sit up straight in excitement, fishing out your phone, ready to film his performance.

You had purposely took bad photos of your husband so you could laugh at them later with him.

15 minutes later, the performance ended. Even though you’re backstage, you still softly clapped at the end of his performance.

“Everytime I see Mark perform, I feel so shocked that we have such a talented guy on our show,” one of them says, making Mark chuckle.

“He was born to be a star,” another comments.

After a few more performances by other groups, it was time for the award ceremony.

You were extremely anxious for this. You hoped all the times that Mark had came home in the middle of the night only to leave again early in the morning or how he would injure himself but would still perform with full energy for his fans would be worth it.

You bit your lip anxiously, your palms had turned sweaty from the long wait of the awaited name.

“The Best Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the card that held the winner.

“Congratulations to BTS for being the Best Male Group of the year!”

You let out a huff, throwing your head back tiredly.

“You seemed really stressed,”

You nod, agreeing with them, “truthfully, I have seen Mark work really hard this year. It pained me to see him suffer so much and not being able to tell anyone.”

“Next, let’s see the nominated groups for Favourite Male Group!” says the announcer. The screen fills with different groups with their names.

You take a deep breath, sitting up again to watch the ceremony. Your lips purse in concentration.

“The Favourite Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the golden card.

A smile forms on their lips, “Congratulations to NCT for being the Favourite Male Group of 2020!”

You let out a gasp, looking at the stylists who was also watching the ceremony.

“Oh my god!” you squeal, “they said NCT, right? I didn’t hear it wrongly, right?” you ask everyone in the room.

The stylists nods, “its NCT!”

Your hand goes over your mouth in shock.

“Her reaction is so adorable,”

You watch the boys walk up on stage. Taeyong is the one to step forward to give his speech, followed by Johnny in english.

Finally your husband steps up.

“Wow,” he starts, his fans starts to scream louder. “this is so crazy. I want to start by thanking Lee Sooman for giving me the opportunity to be part of NCT. Next, thank you to our stylist and coordinator for the awesome outfits- we would never be able to win this award without the unique outfits and make up!”

He takes a deep breathe, “and of course, our dearest fans. Thank you for always supporting us, and giving us the opportunity to be on stage with this award,” he smiles when he hears his fans cheers. “Lastly, my wife who has always been by my side even during my ugliest side. Thank you for never giving up on me always bringing the best out of me.”

A grin forms on your lips, you soon became flustered from the coos coming from around you.

“I can’t wait to meet our little one soon. I love you, Y/N. Thank you,” he ends his speech, stepping off stage.

“Wait! What do you mean little one?!”

“I have been pregnant for 15 weeks now,” you say happily. “We have been trying for a baby for a while now, and we are officially having a kid soon!”

The whole casts starts freaking out.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” they scolded Mark.

“We would like to ask the fans for the upmost support,” Mark adds. “With that, this would be our last episode as a We Got Married Couple.”

“This is a huge surprise!”

“We had so much memories on the show,” Mark admits.

“I had such a fun time on here, but for now, Mark and I had agreed that we want to put all of our focus on our baby,” you added.

“Wow... this is a happy ending,” the casts says.

“We would like to thank Mark Lee and Y/N for their contribution to the show,” they added.

“We really enjoyed watching you and Y/N being cute!”

“Thank you so much,” Mark bow, “it was an honour to come on this show,” Mark says, “I had so much fun, thank you so much for everything.”

“Thank you so much Mark. We hope you have a wonderful journey from now on and congratulations to your first child!”

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nerdia-a · 3 years ago

Note

I am sorry for writing a response to you repost here - I hope it is ok. And sorry in advance for a structureless ramble.

I don’t know whether you are right or not. I know that any capacity to care has been systematically eradicated in Russian citizens for about a century. I know that Russian propaganda machine is ten times as well oiled and as effective as the one in Ukraine and Belarus, at least it used to be - luckily there are cracks showing now. But it follows people from the crib to the grave and that is not an exaggeration. I know that Russian police has proven time and time again that there is nothing they won’t do - you fight back and they drag you out of the view of cameras and break every bone in your body. What they are doing right now they believe to be the “nice” way. Should that stop people? I don’t know.

I know that the Russian government has perfected keeping its citizens in a state where they have just enough of a semblance of a normal life, just enough to lose, just enough veneer of legitimacy to make it easier to keep everyone docile. I don’t know if I can blame people for wanting a normal life.

I know that people who fought for freedom, for rights and for democracy in that country have been systematically killed, imprisoned, tortured and exiled again and again and again for so many generations by so many different shades of regimes, that nobody in Russia has any hope anymore. I know that 100% of the current legal and penal system is designed and utilized to destroy the life of anyone who protests, that those who use it are willing to break any laws and hire thugs and killers, and that if you give them a slight bit of aggressive resistance, they will show this aggression to everyone who doubts and you will be branded the horrible terrorist, only furthering their agenda and solidifying the support of those caught by propaganda.

People believe their future is worth fighting for. They just don’t believe they have a future.

Maybe you are right and they should revolt. But people say goodbye to their children every time they go to even protest. They accept that their relatives might lose their jobs. That their parents will curse them. That what they are doing they are doing not because they believe it will change something but because they can not do otherwise.

It is difficult to become a revolutionary. It is harder to choose to be a martyr after you have seen thousands of others suffer martyrdom and achieve nothing. And if you do not believe you will be supported by those around you - that is what aggressive resistance looks like to them.

For centuries Ukrainians have been doing the exact same thing, revolting because we couldn't stay silent, revolting even though it would get us killed. Killed because of 5 wheat stalks, killed over writing anything in Ukrainian.

If you look at the biography of almost any Ukrainian writer, poet, musician it's filled with suffering caused by the hand of Russian totalitarianism. Read about the "executed renaissance".

So that's why I'm incapable of feeling sorry for Russians subjected to propaganda. Because that propaganda for centuries has involved the subjugation and genocide of neighboring nations.

There used to be a whole lot of propaganda about why slavery and other manifestations of imperialism were justified, but anyone right now who says "it was a different time, they didn't know better" as an excuse is laughed out of the room because we know it's ludicrous. Same goes for Russians.

Germans LET Hitler come to power, despite there being people who saw him for what it was. Russians LET Putin come to power, he had their support though Chechnya, though Georgia, through Syria, through Crimea, and now through the rest of Ukraine.

Ukrainians have seen our smartest and brightest be disposed of for centuries, and we still have it in us to fight for our freedom. Your excuses, while heartfelt, are just that - excuses.

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triptuckers · 4 years ago

Text

Not too late - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: yes “maybe a Nikolai x reader fic where the reader almost moves out from their house because Nikolai is always working and they have a fight but make up in the end? please?” Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: you decide to leave the palace, and nikolai rushes to catch up with you to change your mind Warnings: mild angst I think? Word count: 1.6K A/N: I'd sell my soul to have the scene in which alina punches nikolai in the show I loved it so much when I first read it. thanks for requesting, enjoy reading! :)

You wake up and the first thing you notice is Nikolai's absence. Again. He’s never there when you wake up. You know he’s busy. After all, he’s a king. You knew what you signed up for, and you thought you could handle it.

But it’s hard.

It’s hard because he’s always away, visiting ministers or checking up on the progress of whatever project he was currently working on. And if he was at the palace, you barely see him.

His schedule is packed with meeting after meeting, as well as dinner parties with important people you were never invited to.

You felt like you were slowly drifting away from him. And not just Nikolai, but also your friends. Whenever you wanted to hang out with Genya, Tamar or any of the others, they were busy as well.

You never thought a life in a palace surrounded by people could make you feel so lonely.

Of course, you tried to talk to Nikolai about it, but he merely waved his hand in the air, telling you he’s busy but that he does try to schedule some free time every now and then. You doubted it. Nikolai’s first love had always been Ravka.

You didn’t intend to, but you just stopped being as excited as you used to be whenever you see Nikolai. Maybe you were naive to think a life with him would be something like a fairytale. It had been in the beginning, but it seemed like all the magic that once was there, had faded away.

You simply couldn’t accept you’d always be second place. Ravka first, then you. Nikolai is spending all of his time and energy on his beloved country, and you felt forgotten.

Life at the palace could be amazing. You had everything you could have ever wished for, except that one thing you so desperately needed: Nikolai.

Which is why you had decided to head back to Os Kervo. it was where you had first met Nikolai, but also your hometown. You longed for the sea, and the Saturday market, you missed your friends.

It broke your heart, but you had decided for yourself that no life with Nikolai was better than a life in which he was constantly absent.

It would be best if you left in the evening, you’d be able to slip out and start your journey to Os Kervo. Tt would be a three day journey, but by the time Nikolai would find the letter you had written for him, you’d be long gone.

You take one last walk around the palace, taking everything in. This would probably be the last time you’d ever see it.

Luckily, you only see one or two servants as you make your way to the stables. You take your favourite horse, and after one last look at the palace, you’re on your way.

Once you’re out of the city and in the open fields, you let the tears fall. No one would be around to see you cry. You could already imagine the storm of gossip that would hit all of Ravka if anyone saw you leaving the palace with tears on your cheeks.

You ride for hours until you take a break. The tears had stopped rolling down your cheeks a long time ago. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, calming yourself.

You keep thinking back to Nikolai, and if he would have found your letter by now. You shake your head, drowning the thoughts out. Instead, you start to think about your family and friends in Os Kervo.

They were happy for you when you left for Os Alta, even though they’d miss you terribly. You could already imagine the looks on their faces when you came home. You couldn’t wait to eat a home cooked meal, and help out on the docks.

Meanwhile at the palace, Nikolai has found your letter.

He saw it immediately when he entered your shared room. You’d placed it on your side of the bed. It was late, and he was tired, but he didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

Because you aren’t there. Instead, there was a folded piece of paper on your pillow. It looked like you had never laid down that night.

Frowning, Nikolai picks up the piece of paper, folding it open. He recognises your handwriting and starts reading the letter.

My dearest Nikolai,

I'm sorry, I can’t take it anymore. Ravka is your first love, it always will be. You’ve got a country to run and I don’t want to wait around for you anymore.

It pains me to say this, but I'm leaving. I've tried to hold on, to stay longer, but I just can’t do it anymore. I'm leaving for Os Kervo once I've finished this letter.

Our paths may never cross again, but know that I will always love you,

Y/N

Nikolai reads the letter over and over again, letting the words sink in. You left. And you weren’t coming back. Time and time again he had promised you he’d spend more time with you, but there was always another meeting coming along.

It seems like he had waited too long.

After tucking the letter in his pocket, he grabs his coat and rushes out the door. As he’s sprinting through the halls on his way to the stables, he runs into Tolya.

‘What’s got you in a rush?’ he says.

‘Move everything that’s planned for the rest of the week to next week.’ says Nikolai, not stopping as he keeps on running.

‘For what?’ yells Tolya after him.

‘Emergency!’ yells Nikolai over his shoulder as he throws open the doors.

A servant approaches him. ‘Are you going out for a ride, sir?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’ says Nikolai. ‘Get me the fastest horse we’ve got.’

The servant gestures for a horse behind Nikolai. ‘That’s the fastest one we got, sir.’ he says. ‘Would you like me to wake General Nazyalensky and the twins so they can accompany you?’

‘No.’ says Nikolai. ‘I’m going alone.’

If the servant had his doubts, he hides it well. ‘Very well then, sir. We’ll wait for your return.’

With one last nod, Nikolai mounts his horse and takes off.

Along the way, he keeps ushering his horse to go faster, not caring about how tired it might get. He has to get to you as fast as possible.

When it’s almost dawn, Nikolai spots a horse in the distance.

He could recognise your silhouette anywhere. Nikolai sighs softly and catches up with you.

You hear someone approaching you from behind and keep one hand on your revolver. Just as they catch up with you, and you’re ready to shoot them, you hear a voice.

‘Careful not to shoot me, darling.’

You whip your head around so fast you could have snapped your neck.

Nikolai is riding next to you, his eyes tired but somehow still gorgeous. He’s still in the clothes he wore when you last saw him, and his golden hair is messy. Still, he smiles at you.

‘Nikolai?’ you say. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Very romantically chasing after you, of course.’ he says.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.

‘I read your letter.’ he says. ‘And I realise I've been an idiot.’

You raise your eyebrows. ‘Nikolai Lantsov admitting he can be an idiot? What kind of reversed world did we fall into?’ you say.

‘The one in which I speak the truth.’ he says. ‘I promised you I would make more time for you, and then I didn’t. I hadn’t realised how bad it had gotten, until I read your letter. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N, ever.’

‘We both know Ravka needs you, Nikolai. I was young and naive to think you could spend as much time with me as you did with your advisors and ministers.’

‘I still can.’ he says. ‘I told Tolya to move everything I have scheduled this week to next week.’

You look at him. ‘You did?’ you say.

He nods. ‘Yes, so I could spend time with you.’ he says.

‘That’s nice.’ you say, smiling at him.

‘It’s a start.’ he says. ‘How about this: we pick a few days, and I never schedule any meeting on those days. I spend them with you, and don’t let anything or anyone interrupt them.’

‘But Ravka-’ ‘Can handle a day or three in a week without me.’

‘Alright.’ you say. ‘I could live with that.’

‘Thank goodness.’ says Nikolai, looking relieved. ‘I don’t know what I would do without you.’

You smile and stop your horse. You tug on the reigns to turn around.

‘Where are you going?’ asks Nikolai.

‘Back to the palace?’ you say, a bit confused.

‘I was thinking we could go to Os Kervo for a day or two.’ he says. ‘After all, I did ask Tolya to schedule the rest of the week free. We’ve got plenty of time. Besides, I met your family like two times before, it’d be nice to see them again.’

‘Alright then.’ you say. ‘After you, your majesty.’

Nikolai rolls his eyes at the nickname. ‘I hate it when you do that.’ he says, making his horse resume walking again.

‘No you don’t.’ you say with a wink, turning your horse around so you can ride beside him.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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sparklysung · 4 years ago

Text

✨ADRENALINE RUSH PART II – n.j.m.✨

pairing – na jaemin x female!reader

genre – fluff, smut, angst | non-idol!au, school!au

warnings – good boy!soft dom!jaemin, bad girl!reader, heartbreak, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), creampie, dirty talk, pet names

word count – 4.731 words

summary – after leaving jaemin alone in the school’s library, there wasn’t only one heart broken.

note – it’s finally here! i hope it isn’t too bad, though, i don’t think i’m too good at writing stuff like this lmao. either way, enjoy! also, the gif isn’t mine, i found it on google, so credit to its owner!

taglist – @junguwuuu , @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername, @carelessshootanonymous

part i ; part ii

the next few days after you left jaemin all alone in the school’s library, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

you weren’t supposed to feel guilty, after all, that’s what you usually did; hookup with guys you found attractive and then never reach out for them again, pretending to not know them. and you have never had a problem with it before, you never got attached and they were aware of your reputation, so they knew what they were getting into.

but for some reason, jaemin was… different.

you weren’t really sure why, but something about him just made you feel things, things you have never felt with anyone else. you have never felt so good with any of the guys you had hooked up with. and by that, you didn’t only mean how good his touch felt on you, but also the sweet way he reacted to your loving pet names and caresses.

your heartless attitude only earned you what you had never thought you, a self-proclaimed cold-hearted bad girl would ever experience.

heartbreak.

now, jaemin tried everything to avoid you. he got out of his way so you wouldn’t bump into each other, leaving class as fast as humanly possible just so you wouldn’t be able to approach him. though he doubted you would ever get near him again, so he was actually doing you a favour, right?

after all, why else would you have left the way you did after your little rendezvous?

every time you happened to be in a room he had just stepped into, he turned around and left without giving you a second glance, face expressionless. but even when he tried to act tough in front of everyone else, you could see the pain in his eyes and it was slowly killing you.

truth is, you felt like a complete jerk.

scratch that, you knew you were.

but how could you comprehend the effect your actions had on jaemin if you didn’t even care?

as he had realized when you decided to walk away from him that awful day in the library, he meant nothing to you. and even though it hurt him to no end, that’s how life is.

cruel.

his friends knew something had happened to him. they could see how the usual spark in jaemin’s eyes was completely gone after you two got together to work on your genetics project. he usually kept to himself, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary coming from him, but lately he barely talked, only answering with monosyllables. he stopped taking part in their conversations, not even intervening when renjun and donghyuck’s bickering got out of hand.

“hey, nana, are you coming to chenle’s place later today? we’ll probably stay over and play games in his huge ass tv.” jeno’s cheerful voice made jaemin look up from his untouched lunch. he just nodded slightly before looking back down to his food.

he didn’t feel like talking or hanging out with anyone, but noticing the worried expression that had replaced jeno’s usual bright smile, he tried to put on his best smile. “sure,” he tried to reassure him. jeno didn’t seem so convinced, though he didn’t say anything about it.

his friends also noticed how he seemed to disappear whenever you were nearby, which confirmed their suspicions of something happening between you two. he usually took his time to get ready for his next class and was fairly organized, but from that day on, he didn’t even try, throwing all his belongings inside his back before rushing out of the door.

they were determined to find out what had happened with you to make jaemin stop being his usual self. the only problem was, how were they going to get it out of him?

~.~.~.~

“hyuck, go open the door, it must be jaemin.” jaemin could hear renjun’s voice yell from somewhere inside the house.

“ugh, you’re so annoying,” donghyuck rolled his eyes as he opened the door before going back upstairs to what he assumed was chenle’s room.

“dang, not even a hello,” shaking his head in disapproval, jaemin made his way inside, closing the door after himself.

noise –or more like screams– could be heard coming from upstairs as his friends were most likely already playing some game. he walked towards the kitchen where he found renjun and jeno preparing sandwiches and other snacks for all of them. when they saw jaemin walking in, they stopped what they were doing to look at him.

“hey, you came,” renjun smiled, happy to see his friend coming out of his newfound shell. just like the other guys, he was concerned about his sudden change of demeanor. he honestly missed his presence and dumb comments. not that he would ever tell him, though.

“can you help us with the drinks please?” jeno asked, hands full of snacks.

jaemin just nodded his head before taking six cups to fill with any drink he could find in chenle’s fridge. after they had emptied half of the cabinets, the three boys made their way to his friend’s bedroom in silence.

none of them knew what to say, or more like how to say it. renjun and jeno were dying to ask jaemin what was going on, why did he decide to stop hanging out as much with them, if they were right about you being involved in whatever happened. and jaemin could tell. he wasn’t blind to not notice the weird looks they constantly threw at each other, the way they quieted down every time he approached them. but he didn’t want to admit the mistake he had made. he couldn’t look them in the face after spoiling all their efforts to prevent this very situation from happening.

what would they think of him?

he was supposed to be the cautious one of them all, the one who wouldn’t get fooled so easily, the responsible one. but even if he knew for a fact you didn’t have good intentions, he still let himself fall and ended up hurt. how could he take care of his friends if he couldn’t even take care of himself.

“what took you so long?” jisung asked once they made it to their destination, snatching a few bags of chips from renjun’s arms.

“next time you’ll go get food, then,” the older boy clicked his tongue in annoyance, going to sit next to chenle on the bed.

nobody was surprised when jaemin sat by himself in a corner of the room, quietly staring at the floor. he didn’t even try to take part in their conversations, just nodding from time to time to assure them he was still listening. no one knew how to approach the situation, so chenle, tired of the weird ambiance the group of boys had been engulfed in for some time now, decided to take the initiative.

“what’s going on, jaemin? why can’t you tell us?” jaemin felt cold, mouth ajar in shock. he wasn’t expecting the topic to be brought up so soon and neither chenle to be the first one to confront him about it. “don’t even try to deny something’s up, we’re not dumb.”

“we want to help you, but we can’t do anything if you don’t trust us enough to tell us.”

and in that moment, jaemin finally broke.

“i fucked up,” his voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes, making his vision blurry.

“what? what do you mean?” donghyuck intervened. he wasn’t one to usually show concern but seeing his friend so distressed made his heart hurt.

“i hooked up with y/n that day we were supposed to work on our project.”

“we t-.”

“i know, alright! i know it was a mistake and i shouldn’t have let it happen, but now i don’t know what to do,” jaemin thought that venting to someone else about what happened would maybe make him feel better, but it didn’t, if something it actually made him feel worse. he was sure his friends though he was the biggest idiot in the whole world.

“shh, it’s okay, come here,” jeno opened his arms for jaemin, so the broken boy hugged him tightly, hiding the pained expression on his face in the elder’s shoulder.

“i don’t get it, how did this all happen?” a confused jisung asked, not understanding how the hell a simple project in pairs ended up in a hookup.

“i told her to meet me at the library so we wouldn’t be alone. i thought nothing could happen because there would be a lot of people around us, but things didn’t work out the way i thought they would,” and as jaemin told them the whole story, they couldn’t help but pity their friend.

“i thought maybe this time it would be different, you know? she talked to me as if she cared about me,” the dry chuckle he let out made the boys feel uneasy, “and i believed it.”

none of them doubted jaemin had at least a crush on you. yeah, sure, what you did was certainly not nice, but you weren’t together in any way. And that’s how hookups work, right? you fuck and then you leave. no feelings attached.

right?

“so you like her?” renjun asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

“i think i do.”

~.~.~.~

as much anxiety the thought of having to face you again sparked in jaemin, you both still needed to finish the project and you only had two days left. even if he didn’t feel ready to talk to you yet –though he doubted he would ever be–, he had to man up for the sake of his grades.

seeing as his strategy of working on it in a crowded place didn’t work, there wasn’t another option but to section the project and get it done each on its own.

so that’s what he intended when he waited for you in your locker, practicing his next move over and over again. the only thought in his head was getting out of the situation as soon as he could to avoid any kind of unnecessary interaction.

he was scared of his heart controlling his body and his actions rather than his head, as it would inevitably end in him falling for you once again and only more pain. it would be the perfect formula for yet another heartbreak.

and you were completely shocked when you saw him standing next to your locker, apparently waiting for you.

“you can finish the first half, i’ll do what’s left,” his eyes stayed trained on the floor as he spoke. he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him so affected, so as soon as the words left his mouth, he was on his way, trying to flee the scene before you could react.

“jaemin, wait!” he stopped dead in his tracks, not bothering to turn around and look at you. “look, i-i’m really sor-.”

but he didn’t stay to hear the end of it.

he walked away just like you had done not even a week ago.

feeling a lump in your throat that made it harder for you to breathe, your heart shattered into tiny pieces you didn’t care to pick up as you stood frozen in place.

but yours wasn’t the only heart broken.

jaemin walked home with a heavy heart, eyes stinging from tears that threatened to run down his cheeks. his friends had warned him and yet there he was, sulking over you.

he felt like a fool. how could he have fallen into your trap? he knew the type of girl you were; a heartbreaker, a player, the bad girl. but either way, his heart betrayed him, pumping furiously whenever you smiled at him, whenever you got close enough for him to inhale your sweet perfume and feel your minty breath fan over his face.

anger boiled in his veins, why did you have to play with him like that? what did he ever do wrong to deserve it? he had never bothered you, always staying in his lane and out of your way. he didn’t like confrontations so he stayed away from them, and being near you always included some kind of trouble.

but what hurt him the most was that he actually believed your sweet words, soft touches and loving kisses meant something. that he was stupid enough to think they meant the same to you as to him.

as you watched his figure disappear in the distance, you realized you had fucked up big time and you weren’t sure there was any way you could fix it.

~.~.~.~

the very next day you found yourself walking as fast as your legs allowed you around the campus to find jaemin. you probably looked like you had gone crazy to everyone you walked past, hair messy and tired face. you pulled an all-nighter the night before, determined to finish your part of the project. you really weren’t that interested in your grade. actually, your only motivation was finding an excuse to talk to him.

half an hour later, you still hadn’t been able to find jaemin. you were utterly and completely frustrated, it felt like you had just wasted your time. but just as you were about to give up on your search, you found him.

he was walking down the hallway towards the opposite direction and away from you. you could only see the back of his head, but you could tell he wasn’t looking ahead but at the floor, like he had been doing ever since that day. your feet started moving on their own, directing you to him.

“jaemin, please, listen to me,” your fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist in an attempt to make him stay. he didn’t want to turn around, he didn’t want to see you or be anywhere near you.

the memory of you leaving the library after using him for your own pleasure hunted him. it may sound dramatic, but jaemin was tired of the pain you brought him. he hated the way your voice still made him feel all giddy and warm inside, he wanted to forget you for good and go on with his life as it was before.

“why should i?”

“because i want to apologize, just hear me out for a second,” you pleaded, not being able to find one good reason for him to stay.

“why would you even be sorry, anyway? you’ve never cared about others, why now and why me?” a bitter, full of hurt chuckle left his lips, eyes rolling in irony. his words felt like a punch to the stomach, the cold tone of his voice making your heart crack.

he was right, you had never cared about anyone else but yourself.

the cold-hearted behaviour jaemin witnessed in that library was what got you your infamous reputation at school; you did whatever you needed to do without looking back to see how it affected others.

that’s why it hurt so much now that you also cared about him.

“because you’re different,” you whispered, eyes closed in distress and white knuckles from how hard you were clenching your fists.

“w-what do you mean? stop playing around, i’m tired of getting hurt.”

“jaemin,” your expression softened, voice coming out in a sigh and helping him relax a little. “i’m not playing with you,” you took a deep breath before proceeding to spill your guts.

“i know i made a huge mistake acting the way i did, and when i say i’m sorry i really, truly mean it. i’m aware that the wound has already been done, but it makes my heart feel heavy to see you avoiding me. it’s selfish, i know, but i don’t want you to be away from me. i-i’m not sure what these feelings are or where they came from, the only thing i know is that i don’t want them to go away.”

what in the world was happening?

“i think i like you, na jaemin.”

“you like… m-me?” confusion was written all over his face, he couldn’t tell if you were being honest or not.

“yes, i like you, and if you’d give me a second opportunity i promise i’d make it worth it.”

and as much pain you had been causing him for the last few days, he couldn’t contain the butterflies that erupted in the pit of his stomach when he saw the sincerity your eyes held.

his body moved without him realizing, walking towards you until he could smell your sweet scent. you didn’t back down, staying still with eyes locked in his even when you were sure he could hear the crazy beating of your heart. you hoped he believed you, but even if he didn’t, you were determined to prove it to him, regardless of the price.

a surprised gasp fell from your lips when he leaned in with eyes closed, lips locking in a mind-blowing kiss. he tasted the same as last time, but the moment felt different. this kiss was less rushed, filled with strong feelings that you hoped were reciprocated.

had he accepted your apology and was willing to take you back after all you had done?

“does this mea-,” you broke away from the kiss to ask, but he cut you off quickly before going back to attack your mouth.

“i like you too,” your heart felt like it was about to explode, something you had never felt before.

your arms snaked around his neck as his hands positioned themselves on the small of your back, both trying to bring the other closer. your fingers went to his soft, fluffy hair to tug on it and jaemin groaned into your mouth.

for a moment, both of you forgot you were still in school’s grounds and anyone walking to their locker or next class could find you, but at that moment, nothing mattered.

his body felt like it was on fire, the burn almost addictive as he unconsciously pressed his hips into yours, letting you feel his growing boner. he was so into the kiss he didn’t notice at first how his body was reacting to your closeness, your scent filling his senses and plump lips moving against his. but when you responded with a roll of your hips, he gasped in surprise.

“come on, baby,” his heart pumped harder as you intertwined your fingers with his and dragged him to the teacher’s bathroom. after making sure no one was nearby, you got in and locked yourselves inside. you didn’t waste any time smashing your lips together, the kiss eventually turning rougher and full of lust.

when jaemin’s back touched the wall, he broke away from the kiss to regain his breath.

he wasn’t a resentful person, but he was determined to give you a taste of your own medicine. you were going to regret what you had done.

oh, sweet revenge.

the tables turned as he pushed you against the wall, pressing his body flush into yours. a surprised moan left your lips, hands going to his chest in a failed attempt of pushing him away and re-establishing your dominance.

“no, it’s my turn,” the new found confidence that was taking over his body made jaemin feel great. you were wordless because of the sudden change of attitude so he took the opportunity to pin both of your wrists above your head with only one of his hands and with the other, he grabbed your thigh and lifted it, holding it to his hip. with a roll of his hips, his hard cock grinded against your clothed core in such a way your legs almost buckled.

“look at you now, where did the mean girl attitude go?”

you could only moan, already feeling your damp panties stick to your folds uncomfortably, and he smirked at your lack of response. you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you and now knew how desperate jaemin must have felt that day at the library with all your teasing.

“what do you want? tell me baby,” when you tried to free yourself from his grip, he tsked, only tightening it more. “i’m not letting you go, so stop being a brat. i asked you a question, tell me what you want.”

jaemin was enjoying every single second of having you so under his control. you had pegged him as someone who liked being dominated, but apparently you were wrong. by the looks of it, he was having the time of his life, not even caring about how long it's been since everything started, engraving in his brain every sound you made and the way your face contorted in pleasure when he pressed himself against you. he didn’t care about his reputation anymore either, after ruining you just the way you had done with him he would have had enough to make it worth it.

“i want to see you,” your hands twitched in his grip, fingers wanting nothing more than to tug on his shirt and undress him. last time you didn’t get to see him due to being in a public space, but now, locked inside the teacher’s bathroom, you could finally see him in his full glory. jaemin would normally feel shy about showing his body to someone else, especially a girl, but he couldn’t let his whole confident facade fall down, so he set you free, “unbutton it then, babygirl.”

you worked on unbuttoning his shirt as fast as you could and pussy clenched around nothing when you saw his toned abdomen and chest. he was stunning. your hands trailed down his body, caressing the soft skin, drinking in all the little details. in return, jaemin lifted yours above your chest to have easy access to your breasts. the hand that was previously holding you still now came to knead your soft boobs, groaning at the way your hips bucked against his cock.

“fuck me,” you managed to let out in a whimper.

“uhm, is that what you want?” you shook your head ‘yes’ as soon as the question came out of his mouth, eager to feel him inside once again. “then beg for it.”

you weren’t used to being the one to beg and as much as you hated following orders, you were willing to swallow your dignity if it meant he was going to touch you just how you needed.

“please, jaemin,” he shook his head, not satisfied by your response, “i’m so wet and it’s all just for you, i need you to fuck me, please” you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you opted to ignore it. he hummed, letting go of your leg for a moment to slide your panties off your body and pull down his pants before gripping your thigh once again.

“your wish is my command,” you giggled at his cute antics, but the laughter soon got stuck in your throat when he slid his cock inside you. your eyes closed, head falling to the crook of his neck and hands gripping his biceps to hold yourself up, as jaemin groaned. you felt as tight as he could remember, but he still couldn’t get used to it. his legs trembled slightly as your walls squeezed around him, “f-fuck, still so tight.”

“move, please,” the stretch felt nice, but you needed more. and so he did as he was told, starting to slowly buck his hips into you before eventually building up a steady pace.

you felt so full with him snuggled deep inside of you, reaching places you didn’t know he could with the new position. his hips angled so he could hit your g-spot with every thrust, loud moans leaving your lips.

“if you keep being loud we’ll get caught baby,” his teeth nibbled on the skin of your neck, mouth sucking softly as to not leave marks, “or maybe that’s what you want? for someone to catch us fucking in school property?” your moans got louder so jaemin put his hand over your lips to shush you.

“uhm, that’d make so much more sense as to why you suddenly decided to risk my reputation and fuck me in the library where anybody could have seen us just with a turn of their heads.” his words came out so bluntly your eyes widened, body convulsing against his and high getting closer.

“f-faster, please, fuck me faster,” he obliged, lifting your skirt so it hung just above your waist to uncover your lower half. his hips snapped rougher than before as his thumb played with your sensitive clit, pressing harshly and circling furiously on it.

“oh my god, jaemin!” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth falling open as muffled moans fell from your lips. jaemin’s pace got sloppy as your walls clamped down on him. he was finding it hard to move, both from the strong grip of your pussy and his nearing orgasm.

“that’s it, baby, come for me,” and with a particular flick of his fingers you were cumming hard, juices running down the inside of your thighs. jaemin fucked you through your orgasm and followed soon after, thick cum filling you up nicely. heavy pants could be heard all over the room, fogging the bathroom’s mirror.

after your breathing had evened, he pulled out and dropped your leg to let you stand up comfortably. neither of you made an effort to move away from the other, eyes staying locked in the other’s, sharing a last kiss before fixing your clothes as best as you could in the shortest period of time you could manage. you were most likely already running late for class so you didn’t have time to lose.

noticing the only piece of clothing you were missing were your panties, you started searching everywhere for it. you couldn’t get caught or else you would be in big trouble. two teenagers spending a considerable amount of time locked together in the teacher’s bathroom without the supervision of any adult wouldn’t look good to anyone.

at some point you began panicking, you couldn’t just leave your underwear in there, somebody was going to find it and you both would be fucked. for real this time.

“jaemin, have you seen my pant-.”

“your what?” you hadn’t noticed the big ass smirk jaemin was carrying as he looked at you, enjoying your misery. “my panties,” but that wasn’t the only thing you noticed, you could see the pink cloth hanging from his finger.

“give them back,” you pouted cutely, making jaemin smile teasingly. “nope, now they’re mine,” he shoved the piece of clothing inside his pocket and left you to deal with his cum dripping down your legs by yourself.

“but it’s leaking, i can’t go out like this.”

you probably sounded like a whiny child throwing a tantrum, but you really needed your underwear back or else you wouldn’t be able to keep it all in.

“you can and you will, sweetie,” jaemin smirked, taking your hand in his before opening the bathroom door to leave. you didn’t want to leave like that, so you leaned your whole weight back so he wouldn’t be able to pull you with him, but he managed. with a hard tug on your hand, he forced you out of the room and into his back.

just as you were mumbling about how strong he was, a voice made you both freeze in your spots.

“did you guys just leave the teacher’s bathroom? what the heck?” donghyuck gasped, mouth agape in shock. he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing; na jaemin and y/l y/n, school’s good boy and bad girl, walking out of the teacher’s bathroom hand in hand. jaemin’s eyes opened wide in panic. someone –or more like the worst person who could have found you– caught you in a very compromising situation. the erratic beating of his heart made his body feel numb, cheeks flushing a deep tone of red.

he noticed jaemin’s messy hair, blushing cheeks and not properly buttoned shirt as well as your untucked one and skirt way too high up your legs that revealed a fair portion of your thighs.

and then it clicked.

donghyuck’s own eyes shot open as he connected the dots.

“oh my fucking god, you fucked in there.”

–lia:)

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daydreaming-in-letters · 4 years ago

Text

Three Nights (Unconditional sequel)

Night Two

05/25/2021

Pairing: August Walker x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,807

Warnings: hormones, sex during pregnancy, fingering, vaginal sex, slight dom!August, dirty talk, language

Summary: In the middle of her second trimester, Mrs Walker is a hormonal mess. One night, she finds herself in dire need of release, but August just won't wake.

A/N: Next part of the sequel coming right up and things are getting a little steamy...

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

(I couldn't find the source of this picture, so if anyone happens to know, please tell me.)

“August?”

Expectantly she listened into the silence. Nothing. Well, at least if one didn’t count his steady breathing and the rolling of the waves in the distance.

“August,” she tried again, a little louder this time. But still he didn’t move. Measuring her options, she watched his face in the pale moonlight that fell through the open windows. He looked so peaceful, and she envied him his deep slumber. How was he not even sweating in this clammy heat?

Finally, the curtains swayed in a breeze of night air, making her hope for a little refreshment, but it only brought more of the sweltering humidity. With a thud, her head fell back into the pillows, underlined by a frustrated sigh. Slowly her hands drifted over the already rather prominent bump that had once been a delightfully squishy part of her body.

“You know this is really only your fault, right? As if the bloody nausea hadn’t been enough in the first place, now you decide to torture me with everlasting horniness instead. Is it too early to say that you’re taking after your father completely?”

But instead of an answer, another gush of wind rolled over her sensitive skin, the sensation alone enough to make her moan as it coaxed another wave of desire to roll through her. This was insufferable, she thought, as she propped herself up on one elbow again. Why wouldn’t he just wake up? At every other time, he picked up on her horny state with the precision of a bloodhound. Damned be his stupid sound sleep.

She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind. She would most likely regret this and in the end it would probably hurt her more than him. But desperate times demanded desperate measures, and by now she was willing to do almost anything if he only tended to her need and got his dick inside of her promptly.

“August!” she almost yelled and with a swish, her hand cut through the thick air until it came down on his cheek with a harsh slap.

Roaring at the top of his lungs he was wide awake in an instant. And before she could fathom what was happening, she found herself on her back, wrists pressed into the pillow next to her head by his strong hands, furious eyes glaring down at her wildly.

“You’re lucky you’re carrying my child, woman, or you might have found yourself bend over my knees by now to receive your adequate punishment.”

She could feel her walls clench violently around nothing by the mere thought of him having his way with her like that. And before she even had the chance to hold it back, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, very much.” She bit her lip again and it didn’t escape her notice how his grip on her loosened a bit, his eyes softening equally upon her eagerness.

“Is this why you woke me up?”

She nodded, shooting him a perfect pair of doe eyes. “Bloody hormones won’t let me sleep, Augie.”

With a huff, more of the tension left his body. “At least that would explain why you thought it wise to slap me awake.”

“What else was I supposed to do? I did try the nice way, but you just wouldn’t wake up and my panties are literally soaked.”

He growled lowly in the back of his throat, making her clench even harder.

“Are they now?”

Careful not to put his weight onto her body, he clutched both of her wrists in just one hand. He grinned smugly and she knew immediately that she was in trouble. The best kind of trouble. And while she still couldn’t believe that her ludicrous plan had actually worked, his free hand dipped down between her legs without a warning, forcing them apart to grant him better access. Lazily, he dragged his fingers through her folds, stirring the fire inside of her with minimal effort.

“Now that’s disappointing.” What? Having expected his praise, those words of displeasure made her heart fall instantly. But he wasn’t done scolding her, yet. “First you hit me like a bloody lunatic and now you have the audacity to lie to my face so shamelessly, princess?”

“I’m not lying,” she croaked, feeling utterly sorry for herself as she saw her chances for satisfaction dwindle, “My juices are practically flowing over.”

But August’s face stayed unreadable, giving her no hint at all where this was going.

“Oh, no doubt about that,” he finally stated after a long minute of silence.

Wrinkling her forehead in confusion, she was forced to watch helplessly as his face came closer. She could already feel his searing breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation of a redeeming kiss, when he turned his head only the fraction of an inch before contact and dove down into the crook of her neck.

“But your panties aren’t soaked at all, princess, because actually, you’re not wearing any.”

The hunger in his impossibly low voice would have been enough to make her dizzy, but when he bit down on her neck with purpose her body reacted of its own accord. Her back arched violently, pressing herself into him while a deep moan told of her want for more. And when she suddenly felt his fingertips press into her entrance, she knew that his whole act of disappointment had simply been for show. A distraction, so that he -

Oh God, his fingers were filling her so perfectly. Deeper and deeper he sank into her until he was buried three knuckles deep. With a gasp her eyes flew open again and she almost missed his next sentence above the white noise that rushed in her ears.

“You know, you’re really lucky, my painfully aroused angel. Because your sweet little pussy is far too wet to worry about such minor details now.”

His fingers had picked up a steady pace, sliding in and out of her sensitive womanhood pointedly. It was a good start, she thought, but by far not enough to sate her craving. As always, he enjoyed teasing her more than anything. But unlike every other time, tonight she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing, not in the agonising state she was in.

“August, please,” she whimpered. “You promised to make it better, not worse.”

Unimpressed by her words, he continued his slow ministrations, his mouth nipping and sucking its way from her shoulder to her ear.

“You must be mistaken,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right underneath her ear that made her shiver. “I can’t remember making a promise like that at any point.”

Another wave of frustration took hold of her as her brain registered his repeated rejection. Straining against his tight grip, she was practically begging by now.

“Please, I…”

“Say it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

No, she wouldn’t let him have this triumph, even if he chose to deny her the satisfaction she longed for because of her disobedience. In that case she would have to tend to herself, but under no circumstance would she let him tease her anymo - oh.

Holy shit. She didn’t know how this was possible, but it somehow had escaped her notice altogether that his head had abandoned its spot next to hers and had dipped down to pay his attention to one of her oversensitive breasts. And before she would lose her mind completely, she cried out in a state of utter desperation.

“I need you to fuck me, August. Please. Let me feel your hard cock deep inside of me or I’ll go insane.”

In the blink of an eye he stopped, his hands and mouth retreating as soon as she had finally said the words, giving her some time to calm down a little.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, princess, was it?” he whispered smugly. “Now let me deliver you from your agony.”

Her senses still in overdrive, she felt too weak to even move, but that didn’t matter anyway because, as always, August took care of her. Gently he moved her around until her body moulded into his perfectly. His warm chest lay against her back, his arm offering her a comfortable place to rest her head, and soon she could feel the claiming press of his promisingly hard length. With no effort at all, he sank into her, and finally, finally the excruciating unease inside of her ebbed away.

“Shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, darling.” His hot breath fanned across her neck, setting her on fire.

“I’ve also never been this pregnant and this horny before,” she moaned, her hand finding his on the cool sheets, entwining her fingers with his as he slowly started to move.

“Don’t worry. I promise we’re going to change one of these two in no time.”

And eager to keep his promise, his free hand dove down to the junction of her thighs, granting himself access to her bud. Carefully he pressed down, opting for drawing slow, deliberate circles. She was so hypersensitive as of lately and he was determined not to overdo it like last time. But judging from her elaborated breaths and the tell-tale sounds that fell from her sweet mouth, she was enjoying herself genuinely.

“August.” His name rolled over her lips with a shiver while his mouth tended to the sweet spot on her neck. Argus-eyed, he monitored every movement, every noise she made. Her relief was all that mattered to him now. But the first beads of sweat were already beginning to form on her forehead, triggering his worry in mere seconds.

“Should we stop?”

“No!” she almost cried out as if she was in pain. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

And as soon as she had uttered the words, she could feel the eagerly-awaited tension inside of her build. Every thrust, every kiss he left on her overheated skin, every groan that rolled through his chest brought her closer, pushing her closer towards deliverance. And when she finally passed the point of no return, she turned her head to find his lips while the redeeming pleasure rolled over her enraptured body. And just when she thought she would pass out from all the bliss, she could feel his response.

He was sure that she had never climaxed this hard, her walls gripping him so tightly that the sensation caught him completely off guard. Speeding up his hips, he allowed himself to give in as well. And while his mind gradually clouded over, he grabbed her belly possessively in his last moment of clarity and for the first time, he could feel a sign of the life that was growing inside of her.

Part 3

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @agniavateira

#august walker x reader #august walker #august walker x you #august walker imagine #august walker fic #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine

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jayeray-hq · 4 years ago

Text

How He Shows You Affection: Ushijima Wakatoshi

This is a another repost to get this one to show up in the tags! Thank you to everyone who found it through the masterlist! You all are amazing! Notes: 72

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Does Little Things to Make Life Easier for You

You woke up feeling a bit groggy, unsure just how or when exactly you’d fallen asleep. However, once you’d gotten your bearings a bit you quietly cursed yourself for allowing to happen, glancing at your phone and wincing as you registered what time it was. You’d had a lot to get done today and now more than half the day was gone. You’d only meant to sit down for a second and rest your eyes as you waited for the dishwasher to finish, but you must’ve accidentally dozed off.

In hindsight it probably wasn’t that surprising you’d fallen asleep. It had been a really long week at work, you’d been putting in extra hours, and had come home almost every night exhausted. It meant you’d been putting off your chores, all of which you’d meant to do today, on your only day off. The laundry in particular had been incredibly important as your clean clothes situation had become rather dire, but you’d fallen asleep before you could get to it.

Even worse you’d wanted to get it done early because your boyfriend was going to be home later, and you desperately wanted to be able to spend your evening relaxing with him. Unfortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to be happening now.

Heaving a sigh, you stood, figuring there was no use crying over spilled milk, and that you might as well get to work. Especially if you wanted to have that nice dinner done you’d planned for when Ushijima got home. Only to pause in surprise as something fell away from your shoulders.

You stooped and picked the familiar fabric off the ground, and immediately recognized it as your boyfriend’s Adlers jacket, the same one he’d worn out of the house that morning which meant…

“Wakatoshi?” you asked curiously, as you cradled the jacket to your chest.

“I’m here,” the low deep rumble of your boyfriend’s voice was both familiar and incredibly soothing, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke over your face at the sight of him, clearly recently showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

“You’re home early,” you told him crossing the room eagerly to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his strong, warm chest.

“Coach let us go early,” he explained accepting your embrace with ease and folding you into his arms.

“Did you have a good practice?” you asked, slowly pulling away from him after taking a few minutes to just soak up his warmth and presence.

“It was adequate,” he told you, which you assumed meant yes, his eyes fond as his large hands lingered gently on your hips, not letting you pull away entirely just yet.

“I was just going to start dinner for us,” you informed him with a smile, “Just let me finish up a few things and I’ll get right to it.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked gently.

“No, no I’ve got this,” you assured him firmly. After all the two of you usually split chores fairly evenly, and he’d already done his, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to do yours as well.

However, when you went to check your hamper, all your clothes were gone, and a quick peek showed that there were loads of laundry in both the washer and the dryer, both running. The bathroom was also cleaner than you remembered it being that morning, and the dishwasher had been emptied, the dishes put away.

Your heart melted as you realized your boyfriend had apparently taken it upon himself to do it for you, and when you returned to the kitchen and found him quietly pulling out some of the things you’d need to make dinner you couldn’t help yourself diving back into his arms.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, clearly a little concerned.

“It’s perfect,” you assured him affectionately, feeling like a weight had lifted you’re your shoulders, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he told you pressing his cheek to your hair and cradling you close, making you sigh contentedly. You really did have the best boyfriend.

He Makes Time For You

Despite your feelings you’d managed to keep your perfect customer service smile pasted to your face throughout the party, nursing a glass of wine you hadn’t even bothered to touch, but held on to, to keep anyone from trying to get you another drink. It had been a rather horrid night, and you definitely didn’t want to be here, especially since, for the first time in a long time you’d had to come alone.

Normally at these mandatory office parties you at least had your boyfriend with you. Ushijima, with his strong, calm presence and a stoicism and intimidating mien that managed to keep all but the most determined or familiar away from you, was a blessing at times like this. Unfortunately, he’d had a game, which while fairly close by was still over an hour away, and he wouldn’t be back until later that night.

You honestly missed him dreadfully. Just his reassuring presence always helped to take the edge off your anxiety at times like these. Still he had his job, one that he truly loved with all his being and you’d never want to take him away from it, especially not for something as silly as an office party.

Still you couldn’t help your grimace as one of your male coworkers, who’d been giving you the eye all night, and who regularly stood just a little too close, and lingered by your desk just a little too long slowly approached you. You braced yourself, fully ready to face the unpleasant conversation and hopefully send him on his way politely.

However less than a few feet away from you his eyes suddenly darted to something behind you, and he quickly made a beeline around, clearly pretending he’d never been heading in your direction in the first place. You frowned in confusion, but were quickly jolted out of it, by the feeling of a large, warm hand on the small of your back.

You turned, a frown on your face, ready to tell off whichever jerk dared put his hands on you, that you had a boyfriend and to leave you alone, only to find your boyfriend there looking down at you with a soft look on his face.

“Wakatoshi?” you asked a little disbelieving, blinking several times to ensure he wasn’t an illusion of some kind, dreamt up by your wishes for his presence, but no he was still there, his hand warm and grounding, “What are you doing here?”

“I always come to your office parties,” he told you a slightly puzzled frown on his lips.

“I know,” you assured him an amused smile tugging your lips, “But didn’t you have a game?”

“It’s finished,” he affirmed, then added unnecessarily, “We won.”

“I know,” you told him with an amused smile, “I watched what I could of the game before coming. You managed to finish before I had to leave. I sent you a text.”

“I saw,” he assured you a fond smile tugging slightly at the corners of his mouth, his eyes soft, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you told him a bit bemused, “But that still doesn’t explain how you’re here. The game was over an hour away.”

“I left right after,” he explained casually.

“Wakatoshi you didn’t have to,” you exclaimed startled, especially since you knew leaving right after meant he’d skipped the victory celebrations with his team and gotten a cab back instead of taking the team bus.

“I wanted to,” he stated firmly, in a way that left no room for arguments, “I never miss your office parties.”

The sentiment behind the words honestly made your heart melt. Ushijima wasn’t the best with expressing his feelings verbally, but at times like this, when he even cut his volleyball activities short you could almost palpably feel how much he loved you, to put you over his favorite activity, even if it was only a little bit, it honestly meant the world to you.

“Thank you for being here,” you told him, figuring there really was no other response, at least none that would be appropriate in this setting, though you made a note to show him how much you appreciated it when you got home.

“Of course,” he answered firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, as if there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be then right by your side.

He Buys Little Things That Remind Him of You

“Oh Ushiwaka whatcha lookin’ at?” Tendou asked curiously peering over his friend’s shoulder so he could see the display that the large former Ace of Shiratorizawa was studying so intently. His lips quirked in amusement as he saw what had captured the stoic man’s attention, a rather adorable display of plush toys

“Are you expecting?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m not expecting anything,” Ushijima told him a slight frown on his face, clearly perplexed by the question.

“No, no, no I mean is your girlfriend expecting?” he tried again shifting eagerly from foot to foot.

“No, she never expects anything,” his friend and former captain told him completely honestly, his face softening at the mere mention of his beloved who was back home in Japan while he and his team were in France for a game, “But these are very cute.”

“They are,” Tendou agreed nodding sagely, he never would’ve expected the man to be so sentimental and to think such things about toys like that, but well, you learned something new everyday.

“She is also very cute,” Ushiwaka murmured more to himself than to Tendou, before nodding firmly and making his way into the store, clearly intent on buying one for his girlfriend, leaving a dumbstruck Tendou behind wondering if he should stop him or not but in the end decided to let the man make his own mistakes.

Several days later, back in Japan you opened another package from your boyfriend and stared at its contents, more than a little dumbfounded. These little gifts from Ushijima had been arriving nearly every day since he left, nothing too big or expensive, mostly small interesting things that he claimed in his daily chats ‘reminded him of you.’

However staring at this latest gift you had to wonder if maybe he was trying to send you a message of some sort. After all was there any other reason to have sent you what was admittedly, a rather adorable plush baby toy, with a tag in the ear whose French you’d painstakingly translated into “congratulations it’s a boy!”

It left you rather dumbfounded, however, luckily you didn’t need to ask more than why he’d bought it for you for him to explain, and you never had to tell him that he’d given you a baby toy of all things. However, the small gift did find its way into your daughter’s crib several years down the line, so it certainly never went to waste.

300 notes · View notes

brockadoodles · 4 years ago

Text

Take my Heart, I’ll Give you my Soul - b. boeser

AN: Alright, here it is. Without a doubt my favorite and most popular fic. It will probably flop and my heart will shatter since this is a repost but y’all said you wanted it so here ya goooooo.

Word Count: 24,717

Warnings: Drinking, angst, mentions of sex, and that it’s a long one.

It might have been dramatic, but you couldn’t possibly imagine that you had ever had a day as exhausting as this. It was your senior year of university, and one of your seminars was an 8am. Normally this wasn’t an issue, you generally enjoyed mornings, especially in your new apartment. Ever since moving in six months ago, you found yourself waking up early to enjoy the sunrise over the city, sipping your morning coffee on your balcony as you watched the city come to life. Lights slowly turn on, pinks, and orange hues lighting up the sky as the sun rises. You found it calming, taking extra care to slow your breathing down and relax, the cool air running through your hair.

This particular morning, however, had gone entirely wrong. You must have forgotten to plug your phone in the night before, waking up slowly around 7:30, which gave you nowhere near enough time to shower, get dressed, and commute from the city to campus.

You rushed through your morning routine, simply brushing your teeth, throwing up your hair, and a simple combination of a sweatshirt and leggings to get you through the day. You were the type of person who hated being late, to you, if you weren’t at least ten minutes early to something, you got a sense of uneasiness in your stomach. You tried to brush the feeling off, reassuring yourself that your professor didn’t care and that you were still attending the seminar rather than skipping like most students probably would have.

You rushed out the door, locking it swiftly and throwing your bag over your shoulder, walking quickly toward the elevators of your building. You tapped your foot impatiently as you watched the numbers on top of the doors count upward to yours. When the doors opened, you saw Brock standing there, a deep blue Canucks sweatshirt on him, dark grey sweats covering his legs. You stepped aside, allowing him and his dog, Coolie, to walk out of the doors. You had only met Brock a few times, being as he was your across the hall neighbor and you hadn’t seen him until one morning in August, him introducing himself to you in the elevator. You had spoken a few times in passing, never more than a quick hello as one of you was coming or going, but he always offered a friendly smile.

Today he looked different, a frown on his features while he exited. He was clearly stuck in his own head over something, thoughts mulling around. If it weren’t for Coolie rushing to your legs, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed you standing there.

“Good morning, Coolie.” You leaned down to pet the dog, scratching softly behind his ears while he wagged his tail. Brock smiled over at you, mumbling a quick hello before you parted ways for the day. You barely knew him, but something felt unsettling about the way he looked at you. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it seemed more than just the fact that it was early morning.

The day progressed and things quickly escalated from minor inconveniences to flat out annoyance. Class passed by painfully slowly, and your shift at work dragged on, with your boss coming hard on you for something you didn’t feel at fault for. By the time you got back to your apartment, you had three new assignments due, and a new deadline for a project at work. Your head was pounding from the stress, and you pulled your hair up into a loose bun and settled into your glass of red wine, a pair of old red fuzzy socks adorning your feet. You combed through the cupboards, wine glass in hand as you pulled out ingredients for cookies with your other hand, knowing that baking might help take your mind off of things and that the smell of freshly baked cookies would remind you of home.

You had always been a stress baker, finding something relaxing about the meticulous craft that was baking, comfort coming from strict measurements, and the feeling of control as you worked through various recipes. It had gotten you through many rough patches in life, and earned you a ton of friends more than willing and enthusiastic to consume all of the treats you baked.

When you moved to Vancouver, you lost that luxury, and you hadn’t really felt stressed enough to whip out the supplies since moving in six months ago. But with that day being so long and exhausting, you found yourself missing home more than you usually did, and as you had for many years, you turned toward baking to get you through the homesickness.

You turned on some music, letting it play softly as you started mixing your dough. You danced around in your kitchen feeling the tension release from your body and your head start to clear as you loaded up a plate of chocolate chip cookies, exiting your apartment and heading to the one across the hall before you could consciously realize what you were doing. You could blame it on the glass of wine, but if you were to dig deep into the archives of your mind, you knew it was because there was a nagging feeling about Brock nestled there all day. A single thread tying you to this boy you barely knew, wanting to make his day just a bit better.

You raised your fist to the door, knocking softly while balancing the plate of cookies in your other hand. You instantly regretted what you were doing as soon as you removed your knuckles from his door and heard Coolie’s feet scrambling around inside the apartment. You held the plate nervously, the few leftover chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven. You knew you looked like a mess, your hair was sloppily thrown up on your head and your makeup had long since been removed. The dark leggings you wore were stained with flour, from you accidentally wiping your hands on them while mixing your dough. You told yourself that it didn’t matter, you and Brock were friendly enough, and with the look on his face that morning not leaving your mind for most of the day, you wondered if maybe your neighbor needed some sort of pick me up of his own.

“Hello.” You were met with a voice you didn’t recognize. You looked up at the young man standing in the doorway, Coolie trying to rush out of the door once he saw it was you standing there. You made eye contact with him, noting that he was tall, and blonde, like Brock. He was wearing a Canucks sweatshirt, similar to the ones you had seen Brock in many times, so you could only assume he might be a teammate or someone else who works in the organization.

“Petey, who is it?” You heard Brock’s unmistakable voice, muffled from the walls. The boy in front of you smirked, looking down at the cookies in your hand, and your cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

“Uhm, is Brock here?” You asked tentatively, sneaking a glance past the blonde-haired stranger in front of you.

“It is a girl with cookies.” He called back, voice calm and monotone. You weren’t sure what to make of him, he wasn’t not being nice, but he was quieter than Brock. And now, with it arguably too late to turn back, you were beginning to feel regret creep up inside you about going over there in the first place.

The door flew open after your short interaction with the other blond, revealing Brock. Coolie immediately rushed out, tail wagging as he whined for your attention and sniffed your legs. Brock smiled at you, a more genuine smile than you had seen from him this morning, and it instantly melted all of your nerves as he motioned for you to come inside the apartment.

“God, I don’t deserve you.” He groaned, reaching down to the plate of freshly baked cookies you just set on his counter. You saw another young boy sitting on the couch, dark brown hair, and dark circles under his eyes. He looked a little awkward and was staring blankly at the basketball highlights playing on Brock’s TV. You suddenly felt embarrassed, you had no idea who these friends of Brock’s were, and here you stood, hair a mess, covered in flour, bringing your neighbor who you barely knew cookies in the late evening.

Brock either noticed you tense up, or was just genuinely polite enough to speak up after he swallowed the last bite of the cookie.

“Ah, this is Petey.” He properly introduced the blonde who answered the door, clapping a hand quickly to his shoulder before throwing it back to point at the other boy on the couch.

“And that little dead kid is Quinn.” He smiled. Quinn looked over at you, smiling softly and nodding his head before resuming watching the television, not even reacting to Brock borderline insulting him. Brock eyed you curiously as you reached down to pet Coolie who was pawing at your leg for attention, a fond look on his face. Petey eyed you suspiciously, watching as his best friend looked over at you. He assumed this was the pretty neighbor he always talked about, who he never actually had the nerve to hang out with on his own.

You could see Petey mulling over the interaction, almost as if you were watching him analyze the situation, causing you to feel exposed there in Brock’s kitchen. You swallowed, just about ready to gather your excuses and head back home before Brock spoke up.

“So, what brings you over at 11:30 with freshly baked cookies? Seems a bit late for baking.” He teased, chuckling lightly as you stood back up, wiping your hands on your already dirty leggings. You felt your cheeks heat up with his eyes on you, you were a bit embarrassed, having intruded on what appeared to be their guys' night.

“Just had a long day and baking helps me unwind. I made too many and don’t know anyone else so…” Your voice got softer as you spoke, unsure of what else to say. You brushed a strand of hair away from your face, watching carefully as Petey went and sat next to Quinn, the two of them whispering a bit as you stood in the kitchen still with Brock. Brock leaned across the counter a bit in front of you, resting his chin in his hands while he studied your face. The next words out of his mouth smooth.

“Want to grab coffee tomorrow morning and talk about it?” He asked. Your eyes widened a bit, this was your neighbor, who sure, you were friendly with and was ridiculously cute, but coffee? Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a friendship? You weren’t sure. You glanced over to the couch, the other two boys now with their full attention on you, making you nervous once more. You swallowed one again, clearing your throat quietly as you answered.

“Sure.”

“Cool. There’s this really old place a block from here, they have the best latte art.” He smiled once more, grabbing another piece of a cookie and popping it into his mouth.

“Latte art?” You questioned, finding it oddly charming that this tall, broad guy would be interested in something as trivial as that. But you didn’t know anything about Brock yet, and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit at how adorable it was.

“Very cool, one time they tried to do a portrait of me.” He nodded.

“It was ugly.” Petey jumped in, smirking at his friend for finally making the move at getting to know the cute neighbor he had to suffer through Brock always talking about. Brock laughed, a genuine full laugh where his hand rested on his stomach and his eyes crinkled and you instantly felt yourself growing captivated by him. He had the best laugh and it made you feel warm, something that no one else had ever been able to do for you.

“9?” He ignored his friend, instead focussing his attention only on you. You nodded before saying goodnight to everyone. You walked back into your apartment, hopping in the shower and working through your evening routine, mentally preparing to keep yourself up all night in anticipation of this coffee date with the cute boy across the hall.

The next morning you found yourself irrationally anxious, silently cursing yourself for agreeing to coffee with Brock. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, you liked Brock, maybe had a bit of a crush on him, but that was exactly the problem. You had no idea why someone as cute and successful as that wanted anything to do with you. You were just a normal person, finishing up your undergrad at the University of British Columbia, hopefully entering the world after with some sort of better job than you already had that would allow you to stay in the city. Brock probably had way better options than you on his horizon, given that he was, from what you gathered, a successful professional athlete.

The fears melted away when Brock knocked on your door the next morning, a smile on his face and dark beanie covering his hair. You felt more comfortable around him than you expected so early on in what would eventually become a close friendship, following his lead as you entered the elevator together. Conversation flowing easily between you as you walked the short distance to the coffee shop he had been so excited about from the night before.

It didn’t feel like he was a stranger, and you found yourself wanting to share more with him than you normally would with someone who was just an acquaintance from across the hall. You also noticed how attractive he was, feeling yourself blush more than once as he intently listened to you tell him about your school and work.

You reached the shop, looking up at the old wooden building, a stark contrast from some of the more modern structures lining the streets. It felt homey, a warm-toned feeling emulating from the outside, spreading to the inside as Brock held the door open for you, motioning you inside. You looked around at the shop, seemingly empty for that early in the morning, just a few other patrons scattered throughout. Brock followed you up to the counter, saying hello to the barista who seemed to recognize him.

“Hey Brock, the usual?” She asked, her hand reaching for a cup to write his order down. You noticed how friendly he seemed toward everyone, nodding to the other barista who was across the shop, wiping down tables, a quality that you found yourself attracted to.

“Yeah, but for here.” He smiled, looking toward you. You felt your cheeks flush, carefully saying you’d take whatever he was having, feeling slightly embarrassed. The barista nodded, grabbing another mug with a smile on her face as she looked from you to Brock and you tried not to think about if you were the first girl that he had brought here as he handed over some cash to pay for the drinks.

You settled into a table near the back of the coffee shop, talking endlessly about anything and everything together. Brock was a presence that you didn’t know how you lived with just in passing for the last few months, now that you were seeing what he was showing you. The strange thing about it was how natural it felt, a connection between you that you couldn't explain.

You watched Brock curiously as he was speaking, finding yourself slowly memorizing each feature of him as if you were painting a picture in your mind for safekeeping. You felt drawn to the way his eyes closed as he smiled, and the way his hand rested on his stomach when he laughed. He was distracting, in the most endearing sense of the word. You sat there in that coffee shop, listening to him for almost two hours that morning, a fluttering in your stomach and heart that you were cautious about.

When Brock walked you to your door that was just across from his, there was an easy smile on his features as the conversation dwindled down. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stood close to you, your hand fumbling in your bag for your keys, his eyes softly on you.

“Since we’re now friends.” He started, a small smirk present as the two of you stood in front of your door.

“Can I have your number so we can do this again sometime?” He added, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, coming in close to your body. He smelled like cinnamon and cloves, the warm smile still present on his face as he watched you, carefully gauging your reaction to his seemingly weighted question. You had to concentrate on not fumbling while you exchanged phones, entering your phone number into his.

When he handed you your phone back, you laughed softly at his contact entry, the little whale emoji and blue heart next to his name, feeling yourself flush at your cute neighbor who you just had what some would assume was a great first date with. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest as the texts started coming in, communication between you becoming a new constant in your life, friendship coming together seamlessly as it was meant to be.

The only downside was that as you started getting closer to Brock, the more it became painfully obvious your crush was unrequited. But that was okay with you because having Brock as a friend in the city was something you were grateful for, and if it meant you had to pack up your seemingly silly crush into a box, sealed and locked away in the depths of your heart, you would, because having him was as a friend was better than not having him at all.

Brock, however, knew he liked you from the first time you showed up to his condo, your red fuzzy socks on your feet, flour across your legs, and cookies in your hands. He had seen you many times before, in passing when one of you was leaving or coming back, but when you knocked on his door that late November night, he knew you were someone that he wanted to get to know better.

---------

December came and you and Brock had quickly gotten close, any awkwardness that you usually experience with a new friend as you get to know them had already melted away. You found yourself at his condo more often than your own on days and nights that he wasn’t out of town. He had even gotten you to go to one of their home games, surprising you with a jersey beforehand and laughing when it wasn’t even one of his.

“Brock last I checked, your last name is not Pettersson.” You ran your hands over the stitching, and you tried not to let your quickly beating heart question why he wouldn’t want you to have one of his.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to grab one but I knew I had this. Don’t worry, next game it’ll say Boeser.” You nodded at his words, pushing down any anxieties you had as you folded the jersey and set it down, making a mental note to not forget it as you left.

“Okay, let me cook you, useless boy.” You joked, shooting him out of his own kitchen while you started washing the vegetables and preparing dinner.

You and Brock had developed somewhat of a routine the last few weeks, with at least two dinners a week together when his schedule would allow it. It was nice at first until Brock absolutely wrecked a simple meal and you realized you’d either be eating takeout or cooking yourself each time. You didn’t mind though, because you liked being there with him, a lazy smile on his face as he tried to help you with whatever you were making, usually sneaking in bites of the food while he thought that you weren’t looking.

“So let me get this straight, you need me, to go on a double date with you and some girl Quinn wants to impress? Why?” You laughed.

“He really likes this girl, and you know how huggy is, he’s awkward.” Brock smiled, knowing that you had a soft spot for the little Canuck of the team. He reached over with his fork, grabbing a quick bite of your roasted vegetables from your plate, humming as he plopped them into his mouth. You swatted his hand away from your plate, rolling your eyes as he overly exaggerated how good the roasted veggies were while he chewed.

“Please? He’s taking her mini-golfing, clearly, he needs help!” He laughed once more, thinking about how nervous his teammate had been over this date, practically begging him to come along. “Plus, I can’t just third wheel it.” Brock added.

You rolled your eyes, softening a bit at the idea of helping Quinn. Brock watched you as you pondered over the idea, knowing that you would probably say yes. You knew he wasn’t seeing anyone, so it wasn’t as if there was an option for him to bring a date.

“Fine, on one condition.” You said, pointing toward Brock with your wine glass in hand.

“I win put put, and you’re taking me out to that fancy new brunch place downtown.” Brock smiled at your words, relieved that you said yes. He raised his beer to your wine glass, clanking them together softly as he grinned at you, cheeks slightly pink.

“Done deal. You know if you wanted me to take you on a fancy brunch date, all you had to do was ask.” He teased. Your own cheeks now rivaled his, your crush on your best friend bubbling to the surface. Brock winked at you as you shifted in your seat, gulping back the last of your wine while shifting your eyes away from him. You needed to compose yourself, Brock was just joking around, he wouldn’t actually be taking you on a date and you needed to keep telling yourself that to push the lingering feelings away.

“Don’t push it Boeser.” You smirked, gathering your plate and heading into your kitchen, leaving him at the table while you started packing up the leftovers from the dinner you cooked for the two of you.

A few nights later you found a nervous Quinn in the elevator as you were heading back home to get ready for this date. He was wearing some nice jeans and a simple sweater, with a dark jacket over it, cleaning up nicely. His eyes looked nervous but it looked like he had slept, a good sign you thought. He had a small bouquet of roses in his hands, debatably too much for a low key first date, but you shrugged it off, thinking that this girl would probably appreciate the effort.

“Quinn, what made you think it was a good idea to take a girl on a date outside in December?” You said, ruffling his hair quickly as you walked down the hallway toward Brock’s door.

“I didn’t really think about it..” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact. You touched his arm soothingly before knocking softly on Brock’s door, Coolie barking in the background.

Despite the cold weather, and Brock trying to block every shot of yours that you tried to get to go in, you were having a great time. It was deceiving though, because you were sort of in your head about all of it, almost giving yourself the illusion that the date with Brock was real.

You stepped off to the side of the course, leaning against a short fence. Brock followed you, positioning himself right next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“What do you think?” He asked, nodding his head toward where his teammate was, fumbling over his golf club while Kyn laughed at him softly. You smiled.

“I like her, he looks like a nervous wreck but it’s nice to at least see some emotion.” You joked, leaning against the small white fence next to Brock as you watched Quinn fumble over Kyn. She was currently giving him an earful about how to properly put the shot in through the small windmill, Quinn looking at her with adoration in his eyes.

Brock laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder while he watched them. It was stupid, really, how such a simple action from him caused you to feel nervous. You had known Brock for a while now and while he wasn’t overly affectionate with other people that you could tell, he always seemed to have a need to be touching you when you were together. Sometimes it was his knee brushed up against yours on the couch during movie nights, sometimes it was his arm casually thrown over your shoulder while you were out with some of the team, and sometimes it was his hand brushing against yours while you walked.

“Wanna ditch them?” Brock’s voice pulled you from your own head. You looked over at where Quinn and Kyn were standing, he was laughing at something she said, both seemingly oblivious to the fact that you and Brock had separated yourselves from them. You turned toward Brock, leaning into him slightly.

“Movie night?” You asked, knowing that those were likely going to be the next words from his mouth. Brock smiled, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your temple, sending your heart flying at the seemingly friendly kiss.

Brock pulled back, avoiding your eye as if he wasn’t sure why he had just done that and you felt your shoulders slump a bit at his reaction, only reinforcing his lack of feelings for you. But, the moment passed almost as quickly as it came, and he smiled down at you.

“You know me so well.” He said, the two of you already leaving the mini-golf course, seeing Quinn and Kyn in the distance, a budding romance building up between them that you found yourself slightly jealous over, no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts of Brock taking you on a real date away.

---------

The next week, you were lounging on Brock’s couch, Coolie with his head on your lap, your hand resting gently on his head. Brock was in Washington DC, the Canucks on an east coast run. Over the last few weeks, you had slowly become the one that Brock trusted enough to watch Coolie, with you usually staying over at his condo, keeping an eye on things whenever he was gone. It was nice, domesticity with Brock that you fell comfortably into. You felt at home in his place, after many nights spent there with him over the few short weeks you had known him, and you absolutely loved the dog.

You never thought about how your friendship looked to other people, how quickly everything seemed to progress. You just felt like Brock knew you, and you knew him, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together smoothly, the only rough edges being your unrequited feelings for him.

You sometimes wondered if it was crossing some sort of metaphorical barrier of friendship though. You slowly picked up on him not talking to other girls, him calling and texting you even more so than he already used to, his body usually as close to yours as possible when you were together, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t let your heart think about what it all meant.

The annoying thing was that you beat yourself up over it, allowing your mind to drift into places that Brock never put you in, in the first place. He never did anything to make you feel not good enough for him, so why did you suddenly feel like that’s what it was?

You hadn’t been able to watch the game that night, getting in late from work as you rushed from your office back to where Brock lived, where you used to live. You had seen the score though, and you knew the Canucks lost, and you were anxiously awaiting Brock’s Facetime to talk it out with him.

Brock always called you after bad games, or away games. There was something soothing in your ability to ground him, you listened to him, never offering advice if it wasn’t warranted, but you held him accountable to his game. He loved that about you, you had taken the time to learn him, memorizing everything about the inner workings of his mind to a point where he was unsure of if anyone would ever compare to you. Brock wanted you, more than anything, but what you had was so valuable that he wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk of losing. So instead, he took what he could get from you, and tried his best to give you everything you needed in return. He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak down the line, but he didn’t care, so he kept dialing your number, with no intentions of stopping.

You picked up on the third ring, switching the call to facetime. Brock’s heart swelling in his chest, seeing you there in his condo, with his dog laying on you. He was selfishly getting too used to it, coming home to you, so much so that he found himself missing you when he would find stray items of yours scattered around. The hair ties in the bathroom, or the smell of your shampoo on his pillows. He knew he was falling, hard, and every time he came home to you, he found it harder and harder to restrain. Li

“Hey,” you said, eyes soft as you took in his appearance. He was in a hotel room, the dim lighting, and bad decor a giveaway. He looked tired, as you scanned his face you saw the large gash on his cheek, flecks of bruising starting to appear around it.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You rushed out, instantly worried. You hadn’t seen anything about him getting injured, and even if it was just a cut, you felt a tugging on your chest, needing to know he was okay.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, just a high stick. My shoulder is a bit sore though, I took some bad hits.” He said, voice calm and reassuring. Brock was the type of guy who didn’t like to complain, he didn’t want people worrying about him, so he tended to brush things off, instead of focusing on what others needed. It was one of your favorite things about him, how selfless he was, but sometimes you needed him to take care of himself. You never said anything though, because it wasn’t your place to tell Brock how to react or not react to things that happened to him, especially if they were in his career. It was your job to be there as his friend and support him when he needed it, so that’s what you did night after night, facetime calls going so late into the night, often falling asleep next to one another on-screen.

“Tell me about your day though, could use the distraction.” He smiled. You could tell that something was off with him, maybe it was that he didn’t want to worry you with his pain, or maybe something else happened and he didn’t want to talk about it. Brock rarely asked for a distraction, he was always forthcoming with you, so him not wanting to talk about what happened bothered you, more so than it probably should have.

You bit your lip, glancing away from the camera slightly before looking back at him, short enough that you didn’t think he would notice. The truth was that you didn’t have a good day, you found out that you were going to be unable to go home for Christmas, something you had been looking forward to since moving to Vancouver.

Brock noticed something was wrong as soon as you picked up the call and switched it to facetime. You looked tired, your eyes heavy, the room dark with just the small lamp by his couch illuminating your face. He still thought you were beautiful, his mind reeling when he noticed you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, something that you did often that he never grew tired of. He saw you bite your lip and look away, something that you had a tendency to do when something was wrong. He softened a bit, waiting to see if you would bring it up with him. When you didn’t answer right away, he said your name softly and you turned, offering him a small but not quite all there smile in return.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. You looked at Brock, not necessarily surprised at how he picked up on your shift in mood. You felt your eyes well up with tears, partially from the news from today, partially because you were simply exhausted, and partially because you missed him. He had been gone almost a week now and you were missing him more than you knew you should for being just his friend. Being in his condo, sleeping in his bed, the scent of him everywhere, it felt too intimate and you were beginning to get overwhelmed by what it all meant.

“I can’t go home for Christmas.” you softly said, him frowning slightly in return.

Brock knew how much that trip meant to you. You loved the holidays and you had been telling him for weeks how excited you were to go home and bake with your mom, go out to the tree farm and cut down the perfect tree with your dad, and just be around your family that you hadn’t seen in months. He also knew that most of the people you were close to in the city probably weren’t staying in the city for the holidays, and his heart ached at the thought of you spending Christmas alone.

“I’ll stay with you.” He said, voice small as if he was afraid this was too much, or the wrong thing to do.

“No, Brock you can’t, what about your dad?” You frowned, knowing how important going back to Minnesota whenever he could was to him. Brock picked up the phone, adjusting it on his pillow as he shifted around in the bed.

“I’ll just go home for All-Star break, it’s only a few more weeks, they’ll understand.”

“Brock-” you tried, him cutting you off quickly.

“I want to stay, let me.” He sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it. You knew Brock cared about you, he always made you feel like you were one of the most important people in his life, but volunteering to stay with you for Christmas because he felt bad you couldn’t go home was heartwarming in a way that you couldn’t describe. You felt light tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, the relief from knowing you wouldn’t be alone during your favorite time of the year making you emotional.

You propped the phone on the coffee table in front of you and pulled one of the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to wipe your eyes. Smiling softly at Brock who was watching you carefully, taking in your movements, hoping that you wouldn’t fight him on this.

“Okay.” was all you could manage, the tears slipping out quicker.

“Good, because I really think I need to make my trainer mad by eating a whole batch of those gingerbread cookies you have been raving about for a month.” Brock joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hated seeing you cry and it was even more distressing to him when you were alone in his condo, him a thousand miles away unable to do anything about it.

You smiled at his joke, nodding your head at his words. Words couldn’t describe how appreciative you were of Brock, and a few weeks later when Christmas did roll around, you baked him two batches of those gingerbread cookies, watching in enamored amusement as he tried to shape them into various shapes. You were treading down a slippery slope with Brock, one that you were terrified of as the train raced down the track, headed toward the sharp curve of your heart, a curve that you weren’t sure the train could withstand.

---------

January came and went, with you busying yourself with your last semester of classes, and Brock going home over the All-Star break, you felt like you hadn’t seen him in a while. It was the busiest month for both of you, with the Canucks mostly out of town for away games, the only times you truly got to see Brock were when he would come back to his condo late from roadies, carefully slipping himself into the bed next to you, softly murmured “hellos” before you both drifted back to sleep.

It was agonizing in a way, this back of forth with Brock, you were friends, but ever since Christmas, it had felt like more. You were almost sure he was going to kiss you that night, the tree illuminated in the background, joking around about hanging mistletoe up. And you let yourself stand there in front of him, prepared to take what felt like a long-overdue step in the confines of your relationship and it just never came. Brock never leaned in to kiss you that night, and you had carefully replayed the entire scenario over and over in your head wondering why he didn’t.

But now it was late February, and you were running late from work getting to Brock’s birthday party. You had been excited about this the whole week, feeling like you hadn’t had that many great opportunities to spend quality time with him. You were in the throws of midterm exams and a big project deadline at work, simply catching glimpses of him in late-night Facetime calls or the occasional morning coffee runs together if he didn’t have a morning skate or practice scheduled that day.

You had felt something shift since he spent Christmas with you, a dynamic in your friendship that felt slightly different. You didn’t know how to describe it, but the thoughts of him as more than your friend were getting stronger, more evident in the way that you thought about him. You were scared that maybe he could see your feelings, as if they were like a neon sign lit up in a window, the window protecting the piece of your heart that you hadn’t given to him.

You felt anxious as you left work, time slipping away from you as you sent Brock a quick text, apologizing for being late, and that you’d be there soon. You walked down the streets of downtown Vancouver, holding your arms close to your chest to keep yourself warm from the late winter breeze as you headed toward the bar where you knew everyone was.

Brock had been anxiously awaiting your arrival at the bar, knowing you were leaving a work meeting that had gone on a bit later than you anticipated. Most of his friends were there, mingling amongst each other in the dimly lit setting as they began celebrating Brock’s birthday, drinks freely flowing. He was waiting at the bar, saving a drink just for you for when you got there, knowing that you were the one he wanted to see. He watched carefully as he saw your figure come into view, you tucking your ID back into your bag and looking around for anyone you recognized. He was just about to raise his hand to try to get your attention when he saw you run into Quinn, instantly pulling him into a quick hug that Brock told himself he wasn’t allowed to be jealous over.

“You should tell her.” Brock looked over at the voice, Elias walking into the bar to get a refill of his drink. Brock just watched as the bartender handed him a new drink, Petey bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. When Brock made no move to respond to his friend, Elias spoke up once more.

“You should tell her how you feel.” He clarified, shifting his eyes slightly to where you were standing, just outside of earshot from where they were leaning against the dark wooden bar counter. Brock followed his gaze to where you were, looking at you. You must have just gotten there, your coat still wrapped tightly around your shoulders, cheeks, and nose slightly flushed from the strangely cold February night.

You were laughing at something that Quinn was saying, a genuine smile reaching your eyes. He would do anything to be the one to make you smile all of the time, harboring feelings that no one should have for someone who was supposed to be just a friend. If he really thought about it, he could rationalize that maybe you felt the same way, that the lingering looks you gave him as he told you about something important to him, the lines crossed after nights out where you’d wake up in his bed with your legs entangled together, all were indications that you wanted him in all of the ways he wanted you.

He was about to deny it, words tumbling out along the lines of “We’re just friends” to Petey that he had said so many times before, unsure of who he was trying to convince at this point. But before he could stop looking, you turned, catching his gaze, and offered him a small smile. The moment was quick as you turned your attention back to what Quinn was saying, but Brock was mesmerized by the small upturn of your lips.

“Brock.” Petey tried, looking at his friend who was so hopelessly in love with you that it didn’t even surprise anyone anymore. Brock pulled the cap from his head, running his hand through his blonde hair before putting it back on, trying to shake off the moment that had just happened.

“There’s nothing to tell, we’re just friends.” He laughed, desperately trying to believe it himself. It was so much easier if you truly were just friends, and if he had to repeat that statement a million times for it to be true, and for him to forget about the feelings he had for you, he would. He couldn’t lose you, and if that meant mentally locking up his heart when it came to you, that’s something he was willing to do.

“You two are something else.” Petey shrugged, leaving the counter with his drink. Brock quickly finished his vodka-soda, nodding to the bartender for a refill. He felt the alcohol starting to take effect on his body, watching as you slowly work your way through the crowd of his teammates toward him, stopping and saying hello as you passed by.

“Hey, birthday boy.” You smiled, walking right into Brock’s open arms. He hugged you close, resting his chin on your head for a moment before leaning back to grab you a drink. The bar in downtown Vancouver was busy even by a Friday night standard. The season had somehow worked out in Brock’s favor that year, with only a practice scheduled the morning of his birthday, and a day off the day after. He held you close for a moment, taking in the scent of your perfume and the presence of your body wrapped in his. He was already a few drinks in, feelings for you bubbling up to the surface from the haziness of the alcohol.

He handed you a vodka soda, letting his eyes scan your body quickly. You were wearing black booties and a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged your hips nicely. You had a navy blue sweater on, the dainty gold necklace that you always wore peeking through the collar. You had just come from work, not having time to change before heading to the party everyone was having for Brock’s birthday. You smiled at your best friend, chuckling slightly to yourself as you saw how hazy his eyes were from the drinks.

“Got you something, Boes.” you said, digging into your bag to pull out a small box, wrapped in blue paper. Brock looked from your eyes to the box, smiling widely as he slipped it from your fingers.

“A present? From my favorite girl?” He said, grinning widely. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as he pulled you into his arms, pressing a sloppy drunk kiss to your temple, something that was a bit more than friendly and had your mind racing. Your skin feeling hot from his touch, even through your sweater, your silly little crush on your friend rising to the surface from his overly affectionate tipsy actions.

“Open it!” You beamed, taking a long sip of your drink. Brock quickly unwrapped the box, the curve of his lips tilting upwards as he looked inside.

“These are amazing, I love them.” He said, looking at the silver cufflinks you got him, engraved with a small outline of Coolie on each one. You thought the idea was kind of silly when you bounced it around with Petey, him reassuring you that this was exactly the type of sentimental but useful gift that Brock would love. Brock pulled you into another hug, letting his arm linger on your body as people started filtering through to wish him a happy birthday. You let your guard down, drinking arguably too much with your best friend, your head spinning faster each time his hands lingered on your body.

“Are you coming back to my place?” He asked, smiling once again at you. You nodded, curling your body back into his arm, that was loosely hanging over your shoulder. His breath was hot on your ear as he smiled wide at your wordless answer. You felt butterflies at the question that was only loaded in your head and going with a surge of bravery you reached up and laced your fingers through his, a move that earned you another soft kiss to your temple, and Brock’s sparkling drunk eyes looking at you fondly. You both ignored the looks from the others as you left the bar like that, hand in hand walking back to his condo, drunken giggles, and incoherent secrets spilled between you.

The walk back to the familiar building was quick and one you had taken many times before moving out, fond memories of nights out with Brock entering your mind as you stepped into the lobby.

“It’s still weird coming back here and not going into my place.” You said, walking into the elevator Brock trailing behind you, hand still laced tightly in yours. He pulled you flush against his chest, facing the mirror on the back of the elevator, looking at himself holding you, something he never wanted to stop doing.

“I miss just walking over to your place in the middle of the night.” He frowned, remembering the day you moved out.

“Mmm, me too babe, me too,” you mumbled into his jacket, the pet name slipping from your lips before you could reel it back in. Brock finally let go of you when the elevator doors opened, following your lead as you walked toward his front door. He fumbled with his keys as he heard his dog running toward the door at the sound of you and him waiting outside. When he slid the key in the lock, you pushed the door open, drunken giggles and Coolie’s whining filling the silence.

“Coolie, my favorite boy!” You said, tumbling into Brock’s condo, getting down on the floor to allow his dog to jump all over you in excitement. Brock laughed, walking into the kitchen and pulling out two glasses from the cupboard, filling each one with water. He came around the counter, reaching a hand down to help you up to your feet, you crashing into his chest, giggling.

You took the glass of water from the counter, drinking it slowly as you walked toward Brock’s bedroom, entering his closet to pull out a shirt for yourself to sleep in for the night. It didn’t even phase Brock how you walked around as if you lived there, because deep down he spent a lot of nights thinking about it. Whenever he was on a roadie, he knew you were there, watching his dog, sleeping in his bed, and it drove him crazy.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your bed?” You groaned, plopping yourself on top of the bed, crawling underneath the covers. Brock laughed in return, tossing his shirt to the floor and getting in next to you. He pulled you into his chest, the atmosphere in the room shifting to something more serious. You tried to focus on his face and the way he was looking at you, but all you could feel was your heart beating in your ears as his fingers danced softly along the top of your hip, sliding his shirt that was draped on your body just enough to show skin. You needed to do something to break the silence, to pull his stare away from you before you did something that you might regret.

“Did you have a good birthday?” You whispered, hoping that he couldn’t hear the steady thumping in your chest. Brock smiled again, his whole facial expression getting softer the more he looked at you.

“The best.” He whispered back, leaning in and pressing the softest of kisses to the corner of your mouth, lips almost touching yours. Your breath caught in your throat, the moment passing as quickly as he did it. Brock tightened his arm around you, leaning his head into your shoulder. You lay frozen there, with Brock draped over your body as you struggled to breathe. Brock’s almost kiss sending you into a spiral of thoughts, instantly making your heart race. It wasn’t until you felt his hot breath on your neck, and heard his snores in your ear that you were able to calm down enough, drifting to sleep, neither of you remembering or mentioning the almost kiss by the time you woke up.

The next morning, your eyes felt heavy, your head pounding as you tried to block out the sun coming in from Brock’s windows, the floor to ceiling windows normally offering your favorite view of the city shining sunlight that was far too bright for anyone who had that much to drink the night before to deal with. You groaned, feeling Brock’s arm wrapped securely around your waist, no memory of how you got into this position with him from the night before.

“Brock.” You shifted, trying to move out from under his arm. He groaned in response, pulling you even closer into his chest. You were overwhelmed by the situation you were in, Brock’s legs entangled with yours, his arm sprawled over your middle, his head in the crook of your neck. You felt more vulnerable with each thump of your quickening heartbeat, holding your breath while you pieced together the night before. You and Brock had slept in the same bed before, you were adults and friends. Sometimes after a night out, the two of you would stumble drunkenly back to his condo, wordlessly sinking into his bed together to sleep off whatever the drinks of choice were for the occasion. This felt different, you’d never woken up completely consumed by him, your bodies close together. It felt too intimate for your relationship, his arms too closely holding your body, his lips mere centimeters away from peppering light kisses into your neck.

You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to wake up like this every morning, feeling secure and content in Brock’s arms. You could easily picture a slow morning where you’re woken up in the late morning to soft kisses, running your hands through his hair while you come close together. It wasn’t that far off from where you were now with him, only you couldn’t just wake him up and kiss him, and the realization sent you spiraling into your own heart with feelings you had so desperately tried to keep at bay for months. You needed space, you needed to get out of his grasp and forget about how good it felt to be with him, even if it was only for a moment of consciousness.

“Brock.” You said more firmly this time, you shook his arm slightly and he seemed to realize what was going on. His eyes fluttered open and for a moment he looked at you, there in his arms and it was the best feeling he had experienced in a long time. Something so simple as being wrapped up in you sent him over the edge, tumbling through his feelings like a boat on rocky water.

He pulled himself from you, running a hand through his hair as he watched you get out of his bed, eyes lingering down your body. His heart was pounding, and his mind racing as you stretched slowly in front of him, his t-shirt you had borrowed from the night before riding up your thighs slightly. He let himself imagine for a moment what it would be like to pull you back into bed, fingers laced together while you’re underneath him, needing only each other.

“Fuck.” he cursed, trying to rid himself of the image he created.

“What?” You laughed, turning to look at Brock. He had a hand stretched out over his face as he groaned.

“Just a headache, one too many vodka sodas.” He joked, sliding his hand through his hair before smiling at you. You smiled back, your eyes soft as you focus on him. It felt like something more, the way you looked at him.

“Well, Boes, I’m starving, think I need some of your famous eggs.” You grin at him, the moment passing just as quickly as it began.

---------

Brock steps onto the ice, knocking over a few pucks that are stacked up on the bench next to the tunnel before beginning his usual warm-up lap. It’s game one of the first round of playoffs, the Canucks entering as the wild-card this year. He was absolutely buzzing with nerves for the first game, the energy in Rogers Arena already different than it was for normal home games.

It was still early, but the arena was already filling up with fans.

He was focusing on his pregame rituals, but still taking his time to read the signs that kids had taken the time to write, stopping every so often to toss a puck in their direction. He took glances over at the other end of the ice, where the San Jose Sharks were warming up for the game, flashes of video of their games running through his head as he focussed on getting mentally checked into the game.

He was pleasantly surprised when he skated by and sees you behind the player’s bench a few minutes into warmups, pre-game nerves for the playoffs settling in, but somehow slowly evaporating when he realizes you're there. You’re smiling brightly at him, offering a small nod as he noticed you. He quickly glances toward the young girl next to you, holding your hand. Brock quickly picked up a puck on his stick, bouncing it around before catching it in his right hand. He mouthed something to you that you didn’t quite catch, but before you could ask he was tossing the puck in your direction. You caught it, watching Brock as he smiled at your niece and waved.

“Is that the one?” Your sister-in-law teased as you reached down, and handed the puck to your five-year-old niece. You sighed, knowing exactly where she was headed with this conversation.

“We’re just friends.” You tried, not knowing who you were trying to convince more at this point. Your crush on Brock had developed into full-on feelings, and sometimes you were almost sure that he could sense the way you reacted to him. You hadn’t admitted your feelings to anyone, hoping that if you kept them guarded close to your chest that you would eventually move on and stop daydreaming about your best friend. But it seemed like almost everyone was onto your scheme, poking fun at your dynamic with each other every chance they got. No matter how many times it happened, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pinch in your chest each time Brock brushed off their comments. Your heart sinking every time he laughed the words,

“We’re just friends.” To someone.

Holly came down after warmups, just before the game was set to start, a smirk present on your face as she held her hands behind her back.

“Okay, what’s that face for?” You rolled your eyes, knowing Holly it could be anything. She pulled her hands in front of her to reveal a denim jacket resembling her own. You looked at it, noticing Boeser clearly written on the back, details surrounding his name of things you knew and loved about him. One thing that caught your eye, was the small patch on the top right corner, just where one of the seams aligned with the shoulder. You widened your eyes at your small initials embroidered into the corner.

“Well, what do you think?” She smiled brightly handing the jacket to your shaking hands. You didn't know what to think. You weren’t Brock’s girlfriend, Holly knew this. Holly also knew about your long harbored crush for him, feelings that had been spinning out of control lately, a wag jacket doing nothing to help them go away.

Your sister in law looked at you, a knowing smirk evident on her face as she bounced your niece in her lap.

“Holly…” You trailed off, unsure of if it was even appropriate for you to be wearing something like this, endless questions racing through your mind, wondering if Brock even knew about this, and worse, if he did, what would he say. You ran your fingers over the stitching on the jacket, letting your heart think for just a moment about what it would be like to wear this if you were actually his girlfriend.

“Well, put it on. I want to see.” you sighed at her demand, stomach filling with nerves as you placed the jacket over your sweater, the fit perfect on your frame. You felt like people were staring, it was obvious what that jacket symbolized and even most casual fans knew who Holly was, being that her husband was the captain of the team. The last thing you wanted to do was end up all over Twitter as “Brock Boeser’s girl spotted” or something like that. Not only would it be embarrassing, but your feelings were already growing stronger, like ivy settling into a trellis, weaving its way through the spaces while the beautiful leaves slip out, and you didn’t need those leaves present to the entirety of hockey Twitter right before an important series for Brock.

“God, he’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you. Poor guy probably won’t make it.” She said, taking a sip of her drink and settling down into the seat, the other girls slowly started to fill the friends and family section down by the ice. You felt exposed, standing there in a matching jacket knowing that so many of the girls knew you weren’t Brock’s girlfriend.

“Wait, he doesn’t know?” You exclaimed, making a move to slide the jacket off of your shoulders, embarrassment clouding your judgment, and turning your cheeks a bright color as you felt the temperature of the arena shift. The lights began to dim and the Canucks opening graphics started to appear on the ice, you instantly shrugging back into your seat when you saw Brock skate out with the rest of the opening lineup, eyes searching the crowd for you as he stood there next to his linemates. He offered a small smile toward you, nodding slightly before focussing his attention back on the ice as you waited for the anthems to start. You tried to ignore the way the jacket felt on your body the rest of the game, ignoring how the meaning of wearing it felt as time progressed.

It was late in the third when Brock scored a goal, pulling the team ahead 2-1. You jumped up and cheered loudly along with the girls as he skated right up to the glass in front of you with his linemates. When the celebration broke and he skated along the bench, bumping fists with his teammates, he looked at you the entire time, smiling brightly. He didn’t notice the jacket, too focussed on your smiling face, and the momentum shift as his goal pushed the Canucks in the lead as he skated by, the goal ending up as the game-winner for the opening night of the first-round series against the Sharks.

You shuffled out of the stands, saying goodnight to your sister-in-law and niece before following Holly down to the tunnels, a text from Brock burning a hole into your hand as you read it.

Wait for me? It read.

The words twisting in your mind as you tried to decipher what they meant. It could be nothing, but you couldn’t help but feel a shift in the air as you wore his last name on your back, standing amongst all of the other wives and girlfriends. You tried to push the feelings down, shoving them back into the box whose wood was splintering more and more lately, feelings for Brock tumbling out of the cracks. You couldn’t even deny it anymore, you liked him, and it terrified you in a way that you couldn’t explain, and wearing his name on your back was doing nothing to help you push the problem away.

You tapped your foot anxiously as you stood around with the rest of the girls waiting for him. You felt a bit out of place, being there among all of the wives and girlfriends, but Holly had stuck by your side, welcoming you with open arms, and a big surprise that you were now wearing.

The denim jacket hung loosely over your shoulders, Boeser embossed on the back, the number 6 stitched on the right arm. You felt a bit strange about it at first, not wanting to cross another boundary with Brock, the lines seemingly becoming blurrier and blurrier as the last few months wound down. You told yourself it was just playoffs, this was standard, and you knew Brock wasn’t seeing anyone, in fact, as far as you knew, he hadn’t been talking to anyone for months. You tried your best to ignore what that meant, to tell yourself it was just a coincidence that the two of you had started spending even more time together.

Brock exited the locker room, his hair was still slightly damp from the shower, his navy blue suit back on his body. He was riding a post game-high, and the feelings only escalated when he saw you standing off to the side. Your bag was draped across your arm, foot lightly tapping on the ground as your eyes looked around the hallway. His breath came to a stop when he realized what you were wearing.

Draped over your shoulders was a light wash denim jacket, one that he instantly recognized as the infamous wag jackets. His eyes darkened as he scanned your body, gaze lingering on the number 6 on your right arm, his number. He took the final steps toward you, wrapping your body into his as you realized it was him there to greet you.

You looked up at him, instinctively tossing a hand up to his slightly damp hair, his arm wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.

“That’s a nice jacket.” He said, leaning his head in, resting his forehead against yours, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to rapidly beat in your chest. You didn’t know what he was doing, but something about the darkness of his eyes, and the softness of his voice removed you from where you were. All you could focus on was him, not the tunnel, not the other players and wags shuffling out of the arena, it was just you and Brock.

“Yeah? Thought I’d represent my favorite guy.” You whispered, leaning in ever so slightly, shaking with nerves and hoping that you weren’t misreading the situation. This was it, Brock was finally going to kiss you, and you weren’t entertaining any of your head’s thoughts of stopping it.

“I’d hope that’s my last name on the back.” He said, the tone of his voice lower, eyes reflecting something darker that you hadn’t seen before. Your cheeks were probably red by now, your heart was beating in your throat, and butterflies were swirling deep in your stomach as you both leaned in. The moment was agonizingly slow. You felt your eyes flutter shut, preparing yourself for a kiss that you had spent months waiting to happen.

“Boes! You forgot this!” Jake yelled, and Brock pulled away from you quickly, recovering instantly as if the moment never happened. Your heart sank, and your stomach filled with another emotion, one that you tried to avoid thinking about as you hung the jacket up in your closet later that night, coming to the realization that he didn’t want to kiss you, rather he must have just been caught up in the moment.

Neither of you mentioned the almost kiss, instead it was added to the overstuffed box of moments that you swore he felt what you were feeling, only to be locked away collecting dust as you waited for a kiss that at this point you were beginning to feel like would never come.

The Canucks unfortunately were knocked out of the first round, your heart aching as you watched the final seconds of the sixth game on tv, knowing that Brock was probably beating himself up over the missed breakaway chance from earlier in the period that would have tied it and sent it to overtime. You watched sadly as the Canucks skated off the ice, seeing Brock with his head down as he left quickly.

Your heart ached for him and the rest of the team, knowing how hard they had worked to get to that spot only to be eliminated so early on. You opened up your text thread with him, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you questioned how to offer your support when he most likely didn’t even want that right now. Before you could come up with some attempt at empathy for what he was feeling, your phone buzzed in your hand, his name flashing on the screen indicating a text.

“Going to try to sleep off the bad mood, we land at 8:30 tomorrow.” The text read. You just sent three blue heart emojis back, not knowing what to say, wishing that you could comfort him but knowing that he just wanted to be left alone. You couldn’t pretend that it didn’t sting. You wanted to be the person he went to for everything, and while you knew you were practically that person already, him not opening up to you now had you feeling like it was a reassurance that he didn’t feel the same. Your brain is trying to convince you that if he did have feelings, he would want to talk to you.

The official end of the season also meant that you knew your time with Brock was dwindling down as he prepared to go back to his hometown for the summer, something you were selfishly dreading. Going a few days without Brock usually felt too long, and you selfishly didn’t know how you’d handle not being able to see him every day. With how close you had grown in the months since meeting him, and how wrapped up in him you had somehow let yourself fall, you couldn’t imagine what this summer would be like with him gone.

Brock got back into Vancouver the next morning, coffee and pastries in hand as he came into his condo, relaxing as soon as he saw you and Coolie curled up on the couch. You were wrapped in the throw blanket, head leaning awkwardly on the back of the couch with Coolie curled up next to you. Your favorite show was softly playing on the TV in the background, a now cold cup of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

He went into his room, dropping his bags near the closet and grabbing some fresh sweats and a shirt to wear, Coolie noticing and jumping off the couch to follow him. He reached down, greeting his dog with affection before walking back out to the living room. He slipped onto the couch next to you, pulling the blankets over enough to cover himself, nudging you softly until your eyes fluttered open to meet his.

“You’re back.” You said, voice slightly groggy from sleeping. Brock reached up and put his arm around you, motioning you to lay down on his lap. You smiled, curling yourself into him and adjusting your position so that you were able to lay on his lap. His arm adjusted, resting over your stomach, his hand just close enough to yours that you almost reached up and threaded your fingers through his. His other hand softly playing with your hair, actions feeling like they were blurring a line to the point of almost crossing it, but not taking the final step.

He didn’t say anything in return, instead looking down at you with a smile. You could tell he was upset, the reality of the season-ending finally kicking in now that he was home. But he made no move or indication that he was wanting to discuss it, probably earning an earful from the coach anyways. Instead, the two of you settled into the spot there, your show playing on the tv with both of your minds drifting to each other, wondering if the quickening paces of your hearts were normal or just an illusion of the feelings unspoken between you.

A few hours later, you found yourself in a different position, your feet were feet propped up into his lap, one of his hands was resting securely on one of your shins as he scrolled through his phone with the other. It was quiet, the two of you finally up and awake from the nap you took together when he came back, and you knew the inevitable talk of him leaving was coming.

You didn’t want to talk about it, and if you had your way, Brock would be staying in Vancouver this summer with you. But, you weren’t his girlfriend, and it was unreasonable to allow your mind to drift to that place, no matter how many times you thought to yourself that he must feel the same, only to be let down by nothing ever-progressing past friendship between you.

You didn’t know how much longer you could handle it, the underlying feelings every time his skin touched yours, the times where it felt like he was so close to finally kissing you, only to pull back and stop himself. You didn’t know what to do, your heart and mind battling back and forth with your mind begging you to distance yourself, trying to tell you that it was good he would be gone for a few months, and your heart telling you to keep as close to him as possible.

“So, when are you going home?” Your voice broke the silence. You spoke quietly, trying to hide the hint of sadness in your voice at the idea of him leaving. Brock looked up from his phone, locking it and setting it down on the coffee table before he squeezed your shin reassuringly.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He started with a hint of nervousness in his voice. You leaned up, propping yourself up on the pillows to look at him, nodding at him to continue.

“Do you want to come home with me?” His question startled you and sent your mind slipping down a runway that you didn’t understand. The question felt loaded yet natural at the same time. Going home with him meant meeting his family, spending time with the people he cared the most about, and you didn’t know how to process what exactly he was asking of you.

You were just Brock’s friend, what would his family assume when he brought you home? Did they know about you? The questions were circling in your mind, causing you to freeze for a moment before being able to answer his question.

“Brock, what do you mean?” you asked.

“I know the last couple of months have been hard, with graduation and your job winding down, and I also know that I can’t imagine spending months away from you. I thought it would be nice to show you where I’m from, get you away from the city for a bit. You’d love it there.” Your heart fluttered at his words, overtaking every inner thought that your mind was screaming at you. Your head was telling you to say no, that this was most definitely a clear boundary that shouldn’t be crossed. But your heart was running through every red light, every traffic signal placed there by your head, telling you to turn around and stay in Vancouver.

You placed your hand over his and he instinctively flipped his hand over and threaded his fingers into yours. It was a small gesture, but one that sent your heart into absolute overdrive, killing off any willpower that your head was trying to preserve.

“I’d love to.” You answered, leaving your hand entangled with his for a moment as you watched his smile grow, a weight seemingly lifting from his shoulders. He looked happy, and you would have done anything to make him happy.

---------

Spending time with Brock in Minnesota was something that you didn’t know you needed. You felt like you were seeing a different side of him, one that you knew was there but that you hadn’t had the privilege to see before. He was more at ease around his family, always in a relaxed state of mind no matter what was going on around him.

You watched him with his dad, sitting out on the dock next to one another. The hot sun casting a beautiful sheen onto the lake water outback. Brock’s hair was getting lighter, his skin getting tanner with each passing week, and you found yourself falling even more in love with him than you already were. Watching him with his family changed something in you, you knew you had feelings before, but for the first time since discovering them, you wanted to do something about it.

There had been so many instances since being in Minnesota where you’d be there with Brock, so close to leaning in and finally crossing that boundary, showing him how you felt. But something stopped you every time, fear.

You continued looking out at the dock, watching as Brock sat with his dad. You loved this side of Brock, seeing him so at ease with one of the people that mattered most to him. You knew Brock was happy in Vancouver, and that he was working hard on contract negotiations to stay, but Brock in his hometown was a different side of him, one that you felt privileged to be able to see.

Your eyes lingered on the sky, bright stars filling the vast dark space, the moon illuminating a reflection against the water as you laid next to Brock on the small boat. Your head comfortably resting on his chest, his arm around your shoulders. It was another shift in closeness with him that had occurred over the short week you had been in Minnesota. Something between you had changed, and despite knowing everything you thought you could know about Brock, you found yourself wanting to know more. Each touch sends you closer to admitting your own feelings to him out loud, only to stop yourself short by the worry of losing the best thing in your life that you had.

“He’s happy you’re here, you know?” His mom’s voice startled you, her stepping onto the patio where you were, taking a seat at the small table outback, a drink in her hand. You looked at her curiously, replaying the words over in your head. Something about her tone had you feeling like there was more weight to them.

“I’m happy too.” You smiled, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t that his family made you nervous, but you wanted to keep having a good impression on them because they were important to Brock.

“You can tell him, he feels the same way.” Her voice was distant, ringing in your ear as the words hit you like a force of air rushing through your lungs. You watched as she looked over at her husband and son, smiling softly, before looking back to you. You were frozen in time, hand firmly on your glass as you circled through her words in your head, dancing around the idea of taking them to heart.

“Just something to consider.” She said, standing back up and walking inside, leaving you to your thoughts.

You felt something bubbling up to the surface, feelings that you had tried for so long to keep in a box tucked away. Albeit, you were doing a poor job as of late, but something about what his mom said to you had you thinking about it, taking the chance on Brock, something you’d been telling yourself you don’t need to do for longer than you could remember. You were terrified, even if he did feel the same, that it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work out and you’d be left alone, in a city that you grew to love because of his company, shattered while you were left to pick up the pieces alone. But you also knew that you couldn’t keep going the way that you had, the two of you dancing around something that had been seemingly so obvious for so long, mere inches from one of you taking the plunge.

Brock caught your eye from across the yard, a gorgeous smile on his face as he made eye contact with you, eyes squinting slightly from the sun, skin glowing. Something about the way that he looked at you at that moment had everything come crashing to a head for you, and you knew his mom was telling the truth. You knew Brock was just as in love with you as you were with him, and maybe if you let your guard down long enough, your own fears would be powerless to stop it.

A few hours later you found yourself outside with Brock, the two of you in a comfortable silence as the pinks and oranges flashed through the sky, the sun beginning to set and moon beginning to rise. You had been thinking about what his mom said to you all day, about him feeling the way you felt, willing yourself to just reach out and take his hand, lacing your fingers together like you had done so many times before, only this time the meaning would be more.

Brock stood up, his sudden movement startling you from your thoughts as he reached his hand out for yours. For a moment, you wondered if he was in your head, taking the leap that you had been wavering back and forth over for quite some time now.

“Come on, I wanna take you on the water.” He said. You tentatively reached out and placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you up as he threaded your fingers together leading you toward the small boat that was at the dock. He helped guide you over the ledge, using his hands to steady your hips when the boat lurched underneath your legs as you climbed on. You looked around, noticing the pile of pillows and blankets scattered on the floor of the boat deck, a bottle of your favorite wine visible.

Brock kept his hands steady on your hips for a few seconds as you adjusted to the movement of the water, your eyes curiously wandering around the small scene he had set up, fully intending to take you out for a nice sunset ride on the water.

“What’s all this?” You asked, feeling your stomach begin to fill with butterflies that Brock had given you so many times up until this point. He just looked at you, a fond smile present on his face while he reached his hand up from your hip, slowly guiding it toward the back of your neck to cradle your head in his hand. You thought, once again that this would be the moment where he would finally kiss you, but instead, you felt his lips touch your forehead, and your thoughts of doubt creep back in. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as he let your body go, motioning for you to sit down as he got the boat away from the dock, the sun setting in the distance.

The whole time spent navigating to the middle of the lake was quiet but comfortable. You sipping on wine, and Brock steering the boat, sun continuing to set. He had a serious look on his face, and from knowing Brock all of this time, you knew he brought you out here for a reason, one that you only hope would be something good.

He dropped an anchor in the water, keeping the boat steady when he got to a place he liked. It was beautiful, the water of the lake a gorgeous deep blue, the dark trees casting shadows onto the water as the sun disappeared from the horizon, the moon taking its place in the night. Brock came over to where you were sitting, laying down next to you and watching the stars. He was quiet, deep in thought as you looked at him.

“Brock,” you started. He turned to face you, leaning up slightly and opening his arms, a silent ask for you to lean into him. You laid down, resting your head onto his chest, on hand sprawled out on his stomach. He reacted quickly, one of his arms wrapping around you, holding you as close to him as possible, fingers pulling slightly on the ends of your hair. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, another action that sent your mind fluttering with worry as you waited for him to speak. The two of you resting in that position, holding each other while the night continued on.

“I got an offer today.” Brock’s voice broke the silence, vibrating through his chest as he spoke, his hand absentmindedly playing with the tips of your hair. You knew what he was talking about, it was part of the reason you had come with him back home in the first place. Brock was up for a contract in Vancouver, something he desperately wanted, but he also knew that anything is possible in the league, and things can change quickly. You lifted your head up to look at him, pressing your hand into his chest for balance.

“Where?” You asked, voice small. You didn’t want to let yourself think about what would happen if Brock left Vancouver, and you had managed to push the thought away for weeks. In your mind, Vancouver had to work out, and maybe that was selfish of you to think, but you didn’t care. You knew how much he loved the city and believed in that team, not to mention the friends he had. Moving somewhere would be devastating for him, and you didn’t know how to process what that could do to your friendship if it would even survive at all.

“Nashville.” He hummed, threading his hand through your hair, resting on the back of your neck. A simple touch, one far too intimate for your supposed dynamic, but that sends chills down your spine.

Your shoulders slumped as you went over what he just said, repeating Nashville in your head a few times, mentally calculating the distance, trying to justify hanging on when he would be almost half a world away. You felt your heart sink completely, silently closing the door to telling him how you felt that night, realizing that if he was leaving, maybe it wasn’t worth the risk at all.

“Oh.” You said. Brock sighed, still holding on to your neck, looking you deep in the eyes.

“I’m still waiting for Vancouver.” He smiled sadly. You looked at him for a moment, recognizing the tenderness in his eyes, the way he was so shakingly trying to keep his worries at bay, to protect you from the possibility that this was your last summer together. You laid your head back onto his chest, focussing your breathing to match his, listening to the steady beat of his heart while you laid there, mulling over the words tumbling through your head.

“Brock?” You whispered, not daring to move.

“Yeah?”

“What happens if you leave? To us?” You tried to sound light, but the shakiness in your voice was difficult to disguise, the only noise surrounding you was the soft rocking of the water, and crickets chirping through the darkness. Brock tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into his chest. It was warm, secure, and for a moment you allowed yourself to drift into a headspace where this was more than it was. Brock was your best friend, but in that moment, you had never felt more sure that all of your feelings were reciprocated, the two of your heartbeats synched.

“Nothing, no matter where I am, you’re too good for me to not be close to.” You tipped your head up at his words, faces mere inches apart.

“Do you mean that?” You whispered, already knowing it was the truth. Brock never was dishonest, he wore his heart on his sleeve and proudly carried around the scars that people who didn’t deserve him left. He gently raised his hand to your cheek, offering a reassurance you needed in his expression, eyes connected with yours.

“Always.”

You instinctively reached up, threading a hand through his blonde hair. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, your eyes glancing down to his lips. The moment is frozen in time, nothing but the late-night cool breeze passing over your skin, raising goosebumps on your arms, but the only sensation you could feel was your heartbeat in your throat, willing you to take the chance. It was now or never, you thought, needing to show him how you felt, how badly you couldn’t handle it if he went to Nashville, leaving you alone in Vancouver without him by your side.

Without processing your next move, or allowing yourself to stop, you leaned up and pulled his head down to meet yours, pressing your lips softly to his for the first time. Brock reacted quickly, leaning further into the kiss, moving his lips against yours. Your mind was on overdrive, and your stomach in knots. You had wanted to kiss Brock since the day you tumbled into his apartment, fresh cookies from your infamous stress baking sessions. But somewhere along the way, he became your best friend, and while the thoughts of kissing him never went away, you locked them into a box tucked deep in the cavities of your heart, in hopes that it would protect you from losing him. By kissing him you had taken an ax to the box, ripping it apart at the seams and allowing the feelings to escape, blind to the pressure that you would come to feel from it all in just hours time.

You tugged on the ends of his hair, the kiss becoming deeper as he pulled you closer to him, every emotion you were both feeling tumbling out from the safe spaces it had been locked in. Brock slowly pulled back, eyes darkened as he looked at you, lips slightly pinker. He had never thought he would get the chance to kiss you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could ever stop. But, he needed to know you wanted it too, that this wasn’t some fleeting caught up in the moment kiss.

You smiled at him, a smile that he had seen so many times yet could never get enough of. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his jaw slowly, delicately as your fingers pulled through his hair. He could barely breathe, your lips igniting his skin. He needed to feel every inch of you.

“Are you sure?” He hummed out, tilting your head up to look at him once more, a question holding more weight than either of you imagined would happen when heading out into the late summer night on that boat.

“I need you.” was all you said, intently looking at the boy in front of you who had somehow become everything. Brock kissed you quickly, a fire in his eyes and heart that only could be contained by you. You deepened the kiss as he slowly leaned your body back, rolling himself to hover over you. Your hands ran up his chest, settling back into his hair. One of his hands firmly pressed into the dock, steadying himself as his other snaked under the sweatshirt of his you had on, settling on your bare skin just above your hip.

Your breathing started to get heavier as his lips left yours, trailing softly down your neck and collar bones. His hands slowly sliding up your sides, resting just below the line of your bra. He pulled back slightly to look at you, admiring once again how beautiful he thought that you were. You knew what he was going to ask next, Brock was always the type to need clear consent before doing anything. You reached a hand up to his cheek, lifting your head to press your lips to his softly once more.

“It’s okay, you can keep going.” You smiled, thankful for the only light being the moon so that he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks. Brock pulled his hand from your sweatshirt, reaching up to grab yours in his, lacing your fingers together and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a move that sent butterflies into your stomach.

“Are you sure?” He needed to hear you say it, he needed to make sure this feeling was real, and that he wasn’t just imagining what was about to happen with you. You squeezed his hand softly, words firm as you spoke.

“I want you, Brock, all of you.” He took his time, hands gently peeling the clothes off your body, reassuring kisses splattered all over your neck and chest. You leaned into him tugging softly on his hair while you felt his whole weight on top of you. Your mind was hazy, thinking of nothing but this moment with Brock, how good it felt to finally have him.

He laced his fingers through yours, pinning your hands down as he slowly entered you, his body hovering above yours. Moans softly filling the air as the pace picks up, your bodies flush against one another as you irrevocably cross a line in your friendship in the darkness, stars floating brightly in the sky, the only illuminance reflected on the still water.

---------

Brock swore he imagined it, you kissing him the night before, the way his hand fit tightly in yours, the soft breaths you took underneath him. And when he woke up to the light shining through the curtains, and you curled up under his arm he worried for a moment he was still in the dream. He lay there, listening to the soft snores coming from your slightly parted lips, admiring how at peace you looked. It was only when he realized you were in only his shirt, a hint of red marks peeking out from the collar that he realized he hadn’t been in a hazy dream after all. It was real, you and him, it was all real and he was determined to make it last.

“Morning,” Brock mumbled, pressing a light kiss into your shoulder. You opened your eyes slowly, memories of the night before flashing through your mind. You curl your body into Brock’s, and he pulls his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. Your mind was racing, every emotion running through you. Brock kept peppering kisses along your shoulder, something that was far more intimate than friends should be doing. This was what you always wanted with him. So why did it feel like you were standing in a forest, waiting for the tree to drop on top of you, knocking you out of the dream world that you must have been residing in.

“Brock.” You whispered, daring yourself to break the silence. You felt your insides twisting, your stomach rumbling with nerves as you laid entwined with him. It didn’t feel real, and the longer you put off the inevitable conversation, the worse the heartbreak for you would be when he told you it didn’t mean anything or was a mistake.

“Yeah, baby?” He said, lifting his head up from your shoulder. You shifted in his arms, detaching yourself from him and sitting up in the bed. You felt exposed, laying there with nothing but a thin linen sheet covering your body, knowing that you had slept with Brock not once, but twice the night before. You bit your lip, avoiding his eye as he sat up next to you, running his hand through his hair.

Brock was nervous, you weren’t reacting how he assumed you would, and part of him wondered if last night was some fever dream. Something he imagined happening, but your naked bodies next to each other confirmed the reality of the position you two had put yourselves in. He wanted you, he wanted everything with you. He wanted to hold your hand all the time, kiss you whenever he wanted. He wanted to hold you while you cried and help wipe the tears away. He wanted to be yours and only yours, for as long as you’d have him, and the memories of your body entangled with his was pushing his heart to finally open up his heart fully to you, even if you already unknowingly held it in your hands.

“So, last night…” you trailed off, gripping the sheet closer to your chest. You were feeling more anxious with each breath you took, heart, filling with regret of your own actions as you sat there next to Brock. He smiled at you softly, no indication that anything was wrong, and although that should have reassured you that it would all be fine, something about it made you more uneasy. You opened your mouth to speak, willing your brain to somehow come up with everything that your heart wanted to say, only no words came out. Brock sensed your uneasiness and tried to grab your hand. You pulled yourself further away, not wanting to push the boundaries that you bulldozed through the night before.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Brock’s words rang in your ear, echoing in your mind as you felt your breathing constrict as if you were underwater, gasping for a final breath of air to fill your lungs. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, the words coming from his lips were so sincere, so heartfelt, and was what you thought you would want to feel in this situation. He watched you carefully, reading the signs of apprehension on your face, his heart pace quickening.

“I think I have been for a long time honestly, you just, you’re my best friend. But you’re more than that, you’re who I want to call in the middle of the night when I’m feeling down, you’re who I can’t wait to come home to after weeks away. You’re who I want next to me at every moment. I want to hold you all the time, comfort you when you’re sad, and celebrate with you when something good happens. God, you’re everything, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.” He continued. He looked so happy, the weight of his words weighing heavily in the air, causing you to further sink into the bed, grasping on to the sheet like you were on the edge of a mountain, hanging on for dear life. You were biting your lip so hard, nearly drawing blood as he told you everything your heart wanted to hear. But it all felt wrong.

“Brock, you don’t love me, we just-” you struggled to find the words, not wanting to hurt him even though you were caving into your own insecurities and fears. You weren’t sure what you were doing, letting your brain sabotage what your heart desperately wanted, images flooding your mind about the pressures of being Brock Boeser’s girlfriend, what it all meant, how it would change you. You wanted nothing more at that moment than to go back to the day before and return to pining over him from afar because it was easier. It was easier when you didn’t know what his lips felt like against yours when you didn’t know that he was in love with you.

“I love you, and I want to be with you.” He said, his voice firm, eyes locked in yours. Brock was trying to hand you his heart, it was there, alive and beating in his hands and all you had to do was reach out and take it. All you had to do was say the three words back to him that you knew you had been feeling for years. But you couldn’t.

“Brock, we can’t.” Was all you managed to get out, your head hung down in shame. You didn’t see how his face fell, because you didn’t let yourself. You told yourself this was for the best, that Brock deserved someone better than you. Brock deserved to be with someone who he could give the world to, who could be waiting for him no matter where he went, and someone who he would be proud to show to the world. You felt your throat closing up and tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You weren’t even strong enough to face him, knowing what you were doing to him.

“Oh.” He said, turning his head to look at you. He felt like his world crashed right in front of him, the best thing he could ever have just out of the reach of his fingertips. A lingering taste from the one bite of you that he got to take. You were starting to cry, and for the first time in the years that he had known you, he was at a loss for how to help. Everything felt murky between you, the lines blurred together past the point of visibility, a comforting touch felt like too much now that he had opened his heart, unrequited.

He had thought this summer with you had been different, a shift in the trajectory of your friendship, built up feelings finally coming out into the open. You looked at him differently, glances lingering past the point of friendship, dancing along blindly in what he thought were reciprocated feelings. Brock was never good at reading the signs, but something in the way you gravitated to him over the past month disillusioned him into believing what he felt was mutual, that the sex the night before meant something more to you. He had never felt more sure of anything than he did as he kissed you, only to wake up the next morning and have you rip it all away. A dirty mistake that it seemed like you couldn’t wait to forget.

---------

The first few weeks back home you spent locked away in your apartment, ignoring every phone call, every text, any attempt at contact that wasn’t Brock. You didn’t expect him to call, but you wholeheartedly wished he would, because if you could, you would take it all back. You knew that stepping onto that plane you were burning down the best bridge you had ever built, and now here you were, broken and battered, walking along the edge of steel beams as you tried to forge it back together. But you knew you couldn’t, that bridge was built by two sets of hands, not one.

It took three weeks before Holly showed up at your door, baby in tow, demanding you get dressed and come with her. You did as she asked, carefully showering for the first time in days, putting on the slightest bit of makeup to attempt at hiding the dark puffy skin under your eyes, an indication of your lack of sleep since you returned to the city.

Your head rested on the window as she drove you out of downtown and closer toward East Vancouver. You didn’t have to guess where she was taking you as the familiar scenery passed by. When she parked outside of your favorite brunch place, you sighed quietly, appreciative of her efforts even if you weren’t hungry. You waited patiently as she grabbed Gunnar, buckling him up into the stroller before walking into the restaurant. It was a small hole in the wall place, with an outdoor seating area with white metal awning, decorated in lights and ivy, and earthy atmosphere as strangers chatted away eating their breakfasts, mimosas steadily flowing.

You sat down, listening to her catch you up on things with Bo and the baby, an obvious attempt at trying to distract you from your own thoughts. You appreciated her effort, you really did, but you weren’t ready to be outside of the safety of your apartment just yet. You nodded and hummed along as you listened to her talk, feeling nauseous once your food was placed in front of you. Your mind drifting back to the time you took Brock here, and the two of you got drunk on a Sunday from mimosas, having to walk around the neighborhood for hours before sobering up completely enough to drive back home.

“Okay, something happened with Brock. I’ve gathered that much, and I’m worried about you. Talk to me.” She finally tried, a reassuring look on her face. You didn’t know if she knew the whole story, if Brock had told anyone what happened, you had to guess that he was feeling bad enough to contact Bo about it, you had really messed him up. You slipped into the story, telling Holly about how you felt, and how you hurt the best person to have ever been in your life, tears settling into your eyes, threatening to spill out as you reopened the painful wound, still fresh from the weeks before.

“I don’t know how to fix it.” You whispered to Holly, looking down at the table setting in front of you. You twirled the fork in between your fingers, food remaining untouched on your plate as you sat in the restaurant with Holly. She sighed and shook her head softly at you. You could tell by the purse of her lips and the look in her eye that she was preparing to tell you something that you likely wouldn’t want to hear. You were okay with that though because, at the end of it all, you were the one who hurt Brock. You left him in Minnesota, and while you wanted to fix it, you had to come to terms with the realization that some things are beyond repair.

Holly set her fork down, leaning into the stroller that was sitting to the right of her. You watched as she picked up Gunnar, who was fussing. You hated that your mind instantly went to Brock. Knowing that if you hadn’t have let your fears outweigh what you felt in your heart, that he would have been it for you. You knew that. Deep down you knew that it was always supposed to be him.

Brock poured his heart out to you that morning after in Minnesota, sharing the most vulnerable pieces of himself with you. All you gave him in return was nothing but lies, and the image of you packing your suitcase, going back to Vancouver without him. The worst part was that as soon as you stepped foot on that plane, you knew what you had done. You knew you had broken the only person you had ever loved, and you still didn’t stop yourself.

It was like you were outside of your own body, watching as someone else sat on the tarmac, music softly playing in their headphones, head leaned against the airplane window. You left Minnesota as a different person, someone who was broken beyond belief, but it was at the hand of your own actions.

Holly cleared her throat, bringing your head back into the moment.

“Bo said he’s never seen him like this before and I don’t think he’ll see you, not right now.” She started, a solemn silence between you as she chose her next words carefully. You perked up at this, not knowing that Brock was back in Vancouver yet. You knew it had to be any day, with how training usually went for the team, but something about knowing he had returned and gone to Bo broke your heart even more, and you wondered if he found himself walking around the city as empty-hearted as you were.

“You know I love you, right? You’re one of my best friends. But, what you did, If I were Brock I wouldn’t forgive you either.” It was harsh, and it stung hearing it come from her lips. But you knew she was right, and if you settled into a thought where Brock had done that to you, you probably wouldn’t give him a chance either.

Your eyes welled up with tears. You avoided Holly’s gaze, bringing the sleeve of Brock’s sweatshirt that you were wearing up to wipe your eyes. It was the only thing of his you had managed to hang onto, something old from his rookie year, the 6 faded on the side, Boeser still clear on the back.

“I know.” Were the only words you could seem to find, your heart feeling heavy in your chest.

“Look, Brock loves you, right? He’s so in love with you, he has been for a long time, and God knows his heart is way bigger than all of ours. Just, give him some time.” Holly said. You tried to take her words as hopeful, but you worried deep down that you were permanently destined to live a life without him, nothing but an old sweatshirt and memories of your time together.

Brock had been feeling like the air hadn’t returned to his lungs since you left all those weeks ago. He couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head, rethinking over what he said if he could have changed your mind, but most importantly why he even told you how he felt at all. He knew it was a risk to lay every card he had on the metaphorical table in front of you, but after that night on the boat, he thought he knew you would feel the same. He thought he knew you, and that it would end with your hand in his for the foreseeable future. Instead, the cards blew up in the air, disillusioned by the words you spoke, words he believed because you wouldn’t lie to him.

The worst part about it was that he wasn’t mad at you, how could he be? No person can help how they feel. A moment shared the night before, the lingering touches and your soft moans filling the room, didn’t mean to you what they did to him, and he could never have found it in his heart to be upset by that. But when you left that morning, he knew in his heart and mind that he couldn’t just go back to being friends with you. He couldn’t allow you to have any piece of him anymore, because all it did was confine his feelings back inside, shoved away for no one to experience but him. He was in love with you, and he didn’t know how to go back to being friends and make that go away. He didn’t know how to look at you without remembering how you felt beneath him, how complete he felt when his hands tangled in yours, lips exploring one another.

Brock spent those last few weeks in Minnesota trying to piece together how his life would look without you. He became a bit of a recluse, spending most of his days out on the water with his dogs, unplugged from his phone and friends, only answering if it had something to do with work. He let himself go through the motions as if it were a breakup because, in a way, it was. Losing a friend, especially when it was you, hurt him in a way that most other losses hadn’t.

You were there for him through every good or bad thing that had happened in his life since moving to Vancouver. Every win or loss, his injuries, every doubt he had as a rookie, every trade rumor, and every success. But it wasn’t just his career you had been there for, you were there through his life too. When he worried about his dad, you were the first person he would call. He smiled at the memories of you knocking on his door every time he felt anxious about his family, cookies, and wine in hand, ready to be the shoulder for him to cry on. You never questioned him or made him feel bad when he was upset. You just were you, and your comfort was all he needed to feel better.

You were such a part of his routine that it took him almost two weeks to stop opening your contact in his phone, willing himself not to call you. He hated that his first instinct most mornings was to check in on you, to see how you were feeling after all of it. He grew resentful, but only at himself for his own emotions. The resentment melted into sadness as the time for him to go back to Vancouver grew closer. He didn’t know what would happen when he came back. For the first time in his career, he dreaded going back, not because he didn’t want to play, but because it meant being back in the city where every step he took reminded him of you.

His condo felt different without your presence, and for the first time since you moved out of that building, he was grateful you no longer lived across the hall. He at least didn’t have to worry about seeing you in the elevator, or breaking his convictions and knocking on your door.

He took his time settling back in, slowly gathering any lingering items of yours and carefully placing them into a box. He’d been through breakups before, but nothing compared to losing someone like you. When he had finally rid his apartment of your belongings, he taped the box shut and set it by the door, trying to forget about it. Sometimes Coolie would sniff it, probably recognizing your smell from the items inside.

Brock settled into the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he opened the container of takeout that Elias had brought over. He fiddled with the remote, opening up Netflix to queue up the latest episode of Gossip Girl. He patted the spot next to him on the couch, motioning for Coolie to jump up. When he did, he settled in next to Brock, on top of the grey throw blanket that was draped over the cushions.

Elias took his time in Brock’s kitchen, scanning the apartment and looking at his friend. He knew Brock was miserable, and as much as Petey loved you, his loyalties were here. He carried his takeout container in one hand, the smell of the Thai food from down the street wafting into the air, two beers in his other hand and he walked to his spot on Brock’s couch. He set the beer down on the table, glass beginning to frost from the sudden change in temperature. He leaned back, eyeing the box by the front door suspiciously.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing toward the object in question. Brock stiffened, glancing over where Petey was nodding toward.

“It’s all her stuff.” he sighed, not wanting to get into the subject. Petey knew what happened, as far as Brock was concerned, they didn’t need to divulge into the details once more. What Brock needed was a distraction from all of it, and Petey was happy to be there for his friend, even finally agreeing to watch Gossip Girl, which Brock had been asking him to do for months.

The pair sat on the couch in silence, eating and drinking while watching a few episodes of the show, before Petey left to return home, and Brock drifted into his bed. When he woke up the next morning, the box was gone.

---------

It was mid-October, three months since that morning back at his home in Minnesota. The season had just started, and the rain was starting to settle into Vancouver, a grey sky covering the city most days. He found himself settling into the familiarity of life during the season, but it didn’t feel the same. He woke up most days feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should be, mourning over a loss that he didn’t know how to comprehend. You were still there in his mind, and while over the last few months it had become less frequent, he still wasn’t able to go any substantial amount of time without thinking about you.

He pulled his hood further onto his head as the rain started to come down harder. It was late morning on a rare day off. He was looking down at his phone as he pulled the door to the coffee shop open, the creaking from the worn-out wood filling the air.

“Oh god, sorry!” A voice startled him, one that sent him spiraling down a highway of memories he had spent the last three months trying to forget. He knew it was you, the voice unmistakable.

“Oh, uhm-” You started, and then cut yourself off. The two of you frozen there in the doorway, rain coming down. He hated every moment of this, an ache is his chest resurfacing harshly the longer time stood still with you in front of him. He looked at you, noticing that your hair was shorter, your eyes not quite as bright as they were before, a small frown settling on your features. You looked sad, and like you had been sad for a long time.

Brock often wondered what it would be like to run into you again, after having not seen each other for months. He wondered if it would happen organically, a chance run-in like the situation he was in now, or if you would show up to some event, knowing that his friends were still yours. For the first time since everything happened, he felt a different emotion seeing you, his heart clouding his head with resentment for what you did, the anger at your actions finally bubbling through to the surface.

You looked at Brock and saw a fragment of the boy you knew before, the one you ripped apart without a second thought, the one who invaded your dreams every night, haunting you of your past mistakes. You could have had a beautiful thing with Brock, and you let your fears overtake your mind and broke his heart in the process. You hadn’t spoken to Brock since the day you left, only hearing fragments about how he was from Holly when she was nice enough to share. She was the only one who would talk to you, the rest of your mutual friends cutting you out for what you did. You didn’t blame them, they were Brock’s family, not yours. But you couldn’t pretend that when Elias showed up with a box of your belongings, not uttering more than the words, “Brock wanted to give these back.” that your heart didn’t collapse with your body after you closed the door, letting the sobs overtake you.

You never opened that box, not wanting to relive any of the memories trapped inside, lingering in the belongings you had left with him over the years, the gifts you had given him probably tossed haphazardly in. You knew it was what you deserved, even someone with as big of a heart as Brock couldn’t forgive you for what you did, and you had to live with the consequences of that. Instead, choosing to see him only in your dreams, or scattered around the city in memories.

You knew living in the same area you risked the possibility of running into him again, especially since you two frequented the same places, the only difference now was that you did it alone. And while you thought about it, you never knew how it would make you feel to be in the same space as him again. It felt familiar, and almost every part of you longed to touch him, to reach out and push yourself into him and fix what you broke, but looking at him only confirmed the suspicions that you had that he wanted no part of your life anymore.

You stood in the doorway of the old coffee shop unable to move, your coffee securely held in your hand as you took in his appearance. He looked tired, his beard had grown out more than it usually was, his eyes dull. Your heart ached to know that you caused this, that all Brock wanted was to give you the world and you ripped it out from under him.

The moment only lasted a few seconds, with Brock turning his body away from you, no words escaping his lips as he continued into the shop, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk in the rain. Before the door shut completely, you opened it back up, figuring that if this was the only time you’d ever see him again, at least he would know that you were sorry.

“Brock-” you tried, grabbing onto his arm. You winced softly as he shook it from your grasp, eyes cold as he looked at you.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” His voice was soft but harsh as he looked at you one last time, turning once again to leave you standing, stomach twisting, and eyes beginning to water. You’d never seen Brock so cold, and knowing you were the one that caused it broke you beyond belief.

You went home that day, the image of his face as he walked away burning in your mind as you curled up in bed and let yourself cry over the boy you were still hopelessly in love with.

Brock stood in that coffee shop for what felt like hours, agonizing over the small interaction before finally getting his coffee and leaving. He thought about it for the rest of the day, thinking of how different you looked, how you weren’t the same person he thought he knew inside and out. He thought about how maybe he was too harsh with you, seeing the broken look on your face when he said he didn’t want to talk, eyes filling with tears.

Brock went out to his balcony, sitting on one of the chairs, a place where he often went when he needed to think. You had basically become an intruder in his mind, invading his thoughts when he desperately wanted you erased. All he could think about was the summer, your hair blowing with the breeze while you sang loudly along to the radio, driving through back roads in his hometown. You were like a time capsule he couldn’t seal, instead he saw visions of you in old photographs taken on a disposable camera dancing through his mind, one by one, each a memory of him falling more in love with you. But the thing about photographs is they fade, the ink turns a different color when exposed to heat, and his confession ended up being the heat that warped the photographs of you, turning them into nothing but what was supposed to be fond nostalgia of the girl he loved.

He thought about you the rest of the week, living almost on autopilot as he shuffled himself from practice to games. His mind was so out of it, that he didn’t see a bad check coming from the Vegas player, sending his body curtailing toward the boards, head making contact with the ice as he fell. He managed to get up, limping back through the player tunnel to get looked at, every moment after that a blur.

He wished it was only that night where his game was affected, but the symptoms followed through practice the next day. He wasn’t skating as fast, he was missing calls, and fumbling over drills that were normally second nature to him. His teammates and coaches all noticed, frustrated with his lack of ability to separate his personal life from the game, but also worried that his lack of focus was going to get him seriously hurt.

Brock’s inability to disassociate from that short interaction was affecting his career, and when he spent the next game as a healthy scratch for the first time since playing in Vancouver, he was so broken that he couldn’t find the energy within himself to care.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Bo appeared at his front door, his six-month-old baby strapped to him, a hard but concerned look on his face as he let himself inside Brock’s condo.

“Sure, come in,” Brock said harshly, wanting to be alone.

Bo looked around the room, walking into the kitchen to a scene he had never seen from Brock before. There were dishes piled in the sink, unopened mail piled up on the counter, empty take out bags piled up by the recycling bin. He sighed, unstrapping Gunnar from his chest and handing him to Brock. Brock reacted quickly, taking the baby boy into his arms and walking over to sit on the couch, holding him tightly to his chest.

He distracted himself with the baby as Bo silently cleaned the kitchen. He was sitting there, letting Gunnar bite on his fingers while he waited for anything from his captain, bracing himself for what was likely to be a long conversation, especially now that Bo had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess Brock left, not bothering to do it himself.

“You need to get your shit together,” Bo said, walking back over to the couch, wiping his hands on his jeans before holding his arms out, indicating he wanted his baby back. Brock handed over Gunnar, sighing softly as he ran a hand through his hair, unwashed for two days now.

“And take a fucking shower, you look like shit.” He added, words harsh but true. Brock knew he was a mess, his beard growing out, hair slightly greasy, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his physical appearance, and he didn’t feel like it mattered, it’s not like he had anyone to impress lately anyways. He didn’t say anything, he just let his eyes follow his captain as he sat down with the baby. He cursed Bo for bringing Gunnar, knowing it was a calculated move to ease into what was going to be a serious conversation, he knew Brock loved babies, and that it would soften the harsh words that were probably moments from coming.

“Look, you’re my friend above all else, I hate seeing you like this. But I’m also your captain, and it’s my job to keep your head focussed.” Bo started, Gunnar making soft noises while he spoke. Brock leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, bracing himself for the confrontation.

“I know.” Was all he managed in response.

“Holly had brunch with her a few weeks ago, she’s a wreck, Brock.” Bo softly said, hating seeing two people that he cared about hurting like this. While he was frustrated with Brock as a captain, wanting better from his teammate, he also realized that maybe right now Brock needed him as his friend.

Brock’s head shot up at that, hearing that Holly had seen you. Part of him felt a weird satisfaction that you were maybe just as messed up as he was, hurting over what happened still. Brock spent most of his time wondering why he seemingly wasn’t capable of getting over you, moving on, letting it all go. You didn’t feel the same way, and while he understood that, he didn’t understand why you left the way that you did, ripping apart the friendship that had been such a stable for both of you, or so he thought. But a small part of him, one that he wasn’t proud of, was feeling smug at the fact that you were likely not entangled with anyone else, that you were just as hurt as he was. Hearing that you were a wreck and not emotionless about it at least meant that you cared about him in some capacity, that maybe the friendship at least meant to you what it did to him before it all blew up in his face.

“Oh?” Brock questioned, unsure of if he truly wanted to hear just how bad you were doing, already feeling the guilt bubbling in his chest from moments before, his mind flashing back to the look on your face as he harshly pulled away from you, the memory causing a dull ache in his chest.

“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, but she misses you. A lot. Holly didn’t tell me everything, and I know I don’t know fully what happened, but it might be worth hearing her out.” Gunnar started crying, interrupting Bo for a few moments while he soothed his baby, Brock mulling over the words from his friend.

Coolie came running out of the bedroom at the sound of Gunnar’s cries, a soft plush dog toy in his mouth as he jumped up to the couch, settling in near Bo and the baby, his tail slightly wagging, ready to make Gunnar feel better. Brock’s heart rate quickened, and he hated himself for his thoughts once again turning to you, an image of you holding a newborn, Coolie next to you on the couch as you rocked the baby to sleep. It scared him how you could hurt him so badly and yet he still imagined a whole life with you that would never happen because you didn’t feel the same.

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Bo,” Brock said, slowly beginning to feel like he could open up to someone. He hadn’t shared with anyone the true details of what happened between you, he never mentioned the night on the boat, or the morning after, simply telling them that something happened in Minnesota and you left.

“What happened? Why did she leave?” Bo tentatively asked, hoping that Brock felt okay enough to finally let someone in.

Brock took a deep breath, launching himself slowly into telling Bo what really happened three months ago, opening the wound that had been haphazardly stitched up with blood seeping through the bandages ever since he got back to Vancouver. Bo listened intently, never interrupting as Brock stumbled through some parts of the memories, not commenting when Brock’s voice became thick, or when he let the tears escape from his eyes, finally freeing himself of this problem he had kept locked away for months. It hurt to recount the entire event, but Brock also felt like a weight was lifting from his body as he spoke, freeing himself from the loneliness of overanalyzing each action you took and the word you said. It felt good to let someone into the mess that was his mind.

“You need to hear her out.” Was all that Bo responded with, a serious tone to his voice as he looked over at Brock cautiously, gauging what reaction might come from those words. Brock’s eyes widened a bit, a frown still evident on his face, slight hints of surprise filling his features at what Bo said. He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“I don’t know what the outcome will be, I don’t know if it will fix things between you. But this?” Bo gestured to Brock’s state, a slight dig at his heartbroken and pathetic appearance.

“It has to stop. It’s affecting your game, and your ability to function. So call her, figure it out, get the answers you need and either fix it or move on.”

Brock glared at his phone that was resting on the counter. He spent the last few hours after Bo had been there cleaning up his apartment, metaphorically piecing back together some sense of normalcy. Then he took a shower, letting himself mull over the idea of calling you, wondering if you’d even pick up the phone. He trimmed his beard, not fully shaving it, blocking out that he knew you liked his beard, remembering your fingertips on his cheek before some event he took you to. The old photograph of the memory coming into view of you saying you liked how it made him look, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke, cheeks heating up from the compliments you gave. That was the first time he remembered that he realized the things he was feeling for you weren’t what a friend would feel for another friend.

It was late fall, the Canucks annual charity dinner in full swing. You had come as Brock’s date that night, meeting most of the team for the first time. They had all heard about you before, offering knowing smiles as you entered the event with Brock’s arm around your waist. Even if Brock didn’t know how he felt, they all did. They watched as his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, how he danced with you slowly, keeping his arm securely locked on your hip as if you were the only two in the room.

Brock slowly picked up his phone, fingers tapping methodically toward your contact, something he hadn’t opened in weeks but still came naturally, a muscle memory that he never lost. He wasn’t sure if it was Bo’s words that got him to this point, or if it was him finally accepting that maybe you deserved to be heard out, but as he thought back to that first night of realizing his feelings, his mind danced through the memories fondly, them sparkling bright like the stars that night on the boat.

You had just gotten off of an entirely too long conversation with your mother, one that had your head pounding and all you could think about was the bottle of red wine sitting on your counter and the hot bath that you were going to take. Between brunch with Holly that week, seeing Brock, and your mom, you needed to take whatever energy you had left and try to relax. You grabbed the bottle, foregoing the glass as you walked into your bathroom, turning on the water as hot as you could. Maybe if you made it hot enough, you’d feel something other than the ache in your chest.

Seeing Brock felt like a figment of your imagination, and even though you knew you got the reaction that you deserved, that didn’t mean that it didn’t wreck the already fragmented pieces of your heart. Things had been hard since you left him in his bedroom, eyes wide in shock, heart burst and bleeding on his sleeve. You hadn’t slept in what felt like weeks, barely getting through the motions of each day, walking around Vancouver, and feeling him around you. You didn’t dare step foot far enough into downtown where Rogers Arena was, you couldn’t handle being near the building for fear of what it would do to you mentally.

You ignored hockey completely, tuning out the team, only hearing the bits and pieces that Holly told you the few times you had seen or spoken to her. The Canucks were too much of a tie to Brock, and you couldn’t handle watching them, seeing him on the tv, so instead, you tuned it out. But none of that compared to seeing him again, at the old coffee shop you first forged a friendship with him in, the only place you still allowed yourself to sometimes go when you needed a small taste of memories of him that were happy.

You sat in the bath until the water went cold, slowly working your way through too much wine to be acceptable for one person to drink on a Tuesday evening. You allowed yourself to cry, letting the tears silently roll down your cheeks, bubbles slowly melting away in the water, telling yourself that this was the last time you’d let yourself cry about Brock. He didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, a notion that you were now acutely aware of, his harsh words echoing in your mind with each sip coming straight from the bottle.

You get out of the bath, tossing on a pair of soft shorts and a big t-shirt, swaying into the kitchen, in a wine drunken haze. For the first time in a long time, you felt an emotion that you didn’t think you’d ever feel, acceptance. It was okay how Brock felt, it was okay that he didn’t want to hear you out, and while you still felt regret over your decision, part of you started to come around to the idea that there would be a life without Brock. Maybe it wasn’t today, but someday you were going to be able to open up those years of memories with him and they wouldn’t hurt, they’d instead be looked at fondly. Brock saw a side of you that no one else got to, and even if it all went wrong, you don’t regret sharing just a small portion of your life with him.

You tapped on your phone, connecting it to your speakers in your kitchen, turning on a relaxing playlist. Before you could realize what you were doing, you opened the cabinets, carefully pulling out the ingredients for baking soft chocolate chip cookies, something you hadn’t done in months. Baking used to always be your escape, but when you left Brock, even that stress and pain was too much to get you to pull out the mixer. The heartbreak you felt couldn’t be fixed with chocolate chip cookies, not this time. But, as you stood there, wine drunk in your kitchen with music playing softly, you finally felt like you could bake again.

You were startled when the music coming from your phone stopped, the generic ringtone indicating someone was calling now coming from the speakers. You ignored it, letting the ringing continue until it sent whoever it was to voicemail, assuming it was your mom calling again, something you didn’t have the energy for. You were finally feeling somewhat okay, you didn’t need her in your ear about fixing things with Brock for the second time that day. When the phone rang a second time, and then a third, you resolved to the fact that whoever was calling must have had something important to say.

You picked up your phone, heart in your throat as it went to voicemail a final time. You froze seeing the bubble on your home screen indicating you had three missed calls, all from Brock. His name never felt weirder to see on your screen, the emojis he put in there still present, something that used to always be on your phone but had since vanished. You couldn’t wrap your mind about why he would call, let alone call three times, but your heart feared the worst. Maybe something happened to his dad, maybe something happened to him, or the dog. You didn’t know, but when your phone lit up again for the fourth time, this time a picture of you and Brock lighting up the screen, you answered almost immediately.

“Brock?” You said, tentatively, you didn’t know what the tone of the conversation would be, and your stomach was racing with nerves.

“Yeah, uhm, hi. Hi.” He stuttered, clearly nervous to be calling you.

You gulped, sitting down on the stool by the island, legs dangling down, fingers nervously tapping on the counter. The wine you drank seemingly evaporating from your system, your mind falsely clear as you took in his voice. God, you missed hearing his voice.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, worriness present in your voice. Brock picked up on it right away, reassuring you everything was fine and that bad news wasn’t why he was calling.

“I’m sorry about the other day.” He started, referring to your run-in at the coffee shop.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Brock.” You softly spoke, terrified if you said too much that he would remember that he was talking to you, and hang up.

“I do, that wasn’t fair of me to treat you that way, and I’m sorry for it.” He said, his voice was firm but still soft. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head through the phone, picturing him, probably in his kitchen at the same place you were, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. Before you could say anything in response, he spoke again,

“I was hoping we could talk if you’re up for it?” Your eyes widened at his words, something you weren’t expecting to hear from him. Not that you expected a call from him at all, but let alone an invitation to talk.

“Now?” You asked, unsure if he meant on the phone or something else.

“If you’re free? I uhm, I got curry, from that place you like?” He offered. You couldn’t believe how small his voice sounded on the phone, so much weight held in an offer for curry, something that used to be a routine.

“I can’t drive, I had some wine.” You started, Brock exhaling in response.

“No, no, uhm, I can take an uber. Be there soon?” You said, not entirely confident in your voice or words but hopeful for what was to come.

“Yeah, yeah that works. Keycode is still the same, just, come up.” He said. The conversation felt awkward, two people who had been through so much, trying to navigate the broken pieces of a love that was almost everything.

You walked into his apartment nervously, for the first time since knowing Brock, you truly felt like you didn’t belong there. You felt as if it was something was off. Brock looked better than he did the last time you saw him, his beard was trimmed, his hair clean, and his eyes didn’t look as tired. You felt uncomfortable there, standing in his kitchen while you waited for him to speak. When he didn’t, you found yourself getting more anxious, wanting to do anything to break the silence as he looked at you.

“Brock, how did we get here?” you asked, instantly regretting the question as soon as the words slipped fom your lips. It was a question that you already knew the answer to, because it was a situation that had the blood on your hands.

Brock sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, jumping right into the discussion that had been put off for entirely too long now.

“It was never me that didn’t know what they wanted. I told you that I wanted you. I meant it. And you left. You let me have you for one night and you left.” Brock said, eyes watering. He was standing across the counter from you and all you could think about was pulling yourself into his arms and trying to make it better. But you couldn’t, you lost that right the second you walked out all those months ago. You wiped the tears from your cheeks, leaning a bit on the counter as you smiled sadly at him.

“Brock, I love everything about you. You make everything better. You make me love the things I hate about myself because you’re you. And you love them, why wouldn’t I want to be with you?” You felt like your head was spinning with each word that you spoke, your heart beginning to beat faster as you wished he could put himself inside of it, feeling every emotion you felt, trusting that what you were saying was the truth. You knew you didn’t deserve that trust, you could only hope that Brock would see past your mistake, and remember who you were.

“I’ve never been in love before, not until you. All of those feelings were only for you. And there you were, giving yourself to me and it scared me. Brock, it scared me so bad that all I knew how to do was run. And I know that’s not fair, you deserve more answers than that, you deserve someone who isn’t scared. But that’s the truth, and you deserve the truth.” Your voice was cracking as you spoke, words pouring out of your chest that you weren’t sure made sense anymore. You watched Brock carefully, trying to piece together the expressions on his face that you couldn’t decipher. You felt like you didn’t even recognize him anymore, that you were just two people who knew each other years before, and you didn’t know how a few mere months could do that to two hearts that were so closely connected.

“I just don’t understand how you can say all that, but when I told you I loved you, you left.” He said, voice cracking, tone matching yours. He ran a hand over his face, bringing his eyes to yours. He was trying to think of the right words to say, letting his mind process everything you told him. He couldn’t even focus on the fact that you just threw your heart over the table because there was a part of him that wasn’t allowing himself to believe you.

“I never would have been mad at you for not feeling the same, but you tore apart everything. Feelings aside, you picked up our friendship and threw it overboard when you decided to leave. I would have gotten over my feelings, but you decided that wasn’t enough, and that our entire friendship no longer was worth saving.” His words were harsh, cutting you deep because you didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his friendship. You were standing on the edge of the boat, trying to reel in all of your emotions and Brock came crashing into you like a wave in a storm, and every fight or flight instinct had you thinking the best course of an option was to throw yourself overboard.

“Brock you were everything to me. I fell in love with you almost a year ago. You were everything I ever wanted and then it happened and it was so good that it scared me, and I fucked it all up. I let every insecurity tell me that it could never work.” Your voice breaking, desperately trying to make him believe what you were saying. If this was the last time you saw him, you needed him to know you loved him. Maybe that was selfish, but after all this time you still did, and after what you did, he deserved the whole truth.

“I just need you, to be honest with me.” Brock sighs. Your words should have been enough, and his heart and head were colliding as he tried to figure out what to do. He hated seeing you cry, he hated that he was in a way doing to you what you did to him by letting you release every feeling you had, offering next to nothing in return. But, another part of him felt like it was fair, and that he shouldn’t feel bad for making you give him answers. He spent months trying to get over you, trying to comprehend how one night made everything go so wrong, and maybe the answers would settle the battle in his heart and he could finally forgive you.

“Honest about what, Brock? About how I’ve spent every day since thinking about how I let go of the best thing I ever had? About how I painfully relieve what it felt like landing back in Vancouver knowing you were thousands of miles away hurting because of me? About how I’m still so madly in love with you that it's just aching in my chest I can’t get rid of no matter how hard I try?”

“Did you regret it? Leaving?” Brock whispered.

“The moment I got to the airport, I haven't stopped regretting it since.” The tears were freely falling down your cheeks. You watched in confusion as Brock walked to you, coming closer than he’d been in a long time. Before you could process his next moves, he took your face in his hands, pressing your lips together in a kiss.

You responded quickly, instinctively kissing him back, it was different than last time, probably because of the intensity, both of you trying to communicate your love for each other in the moment. Brock deepened the kiss, lifting you up and setting you on the counter, hands digging into your thighs. You could feel all of him, and you wanted this feeling to last forever.

Brock pulled back, running his thumb along your cheek where a few tears were still there.

“Brock-“ you started.

“We have to do this right, I need to know you’re in, that you want to be with me. For real this time”

“I’m in, Brock. You have my whole heart if you want it.” You smiled.

He leaned in, kissing you once more. When he pulled back, he pressed soft kisses all over your cheeks, trailing down your neck before pulling you in close to him, holding you tight.

“I love you.” You said, unsure of if he would be ready to reciprocate, but you didn’t mind. You would wait for Brock for as long as it took if it meant that things would be okay, that you would be together.

“I love you too, always have.” When he smiled, it was bright, eyes crinkling, cheeks slightly flushed from the shared kisses. You would do anything to keep that smile on his face all the time.

“By the way, I owe Petey $100 now.” He laughed.

“Oh? Why’s that.” You hummed, threading your hands through his hair.

“He knew we’d end up together I guess.”

“Seems like a good investment.” You teased.

“Worth every penny.” He agreed, dipping his head down and kissing you softly once more. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you knew you’d never grow tired of, knowing that Brock was it for you, and you’d love him as long as he let you.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #brock boeser story #canucks story #canucks imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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seita · 5 years ago

Text

— little miss perfect | tamaki amajiki (m.)

pairing: tamaki amajiki/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟼,𝟷𝟻𝟷

tags: forbidden love!au, high society!au, rich!au, arranged marriage!au

note: i posted this a little bit ago but tumblr took it out of the tags so i had to delete it ): i hope it doesn't do it again...

— the life you lived was one of rules; who you hung out with, what you ate, how you sat at the dinner table. nothing was under your control. but when you find yourself falling in love with a man you shouldn't, you find yourself desperate to break the rules.

masterlist | rules

You sighed, letting your eyes wander around the ballroom packed with pretentious people wearing expensive gowns and suits. The chatter was too loud to hear even your own thoughts and you scowled, feeling a headache coming on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar looming figure of Enji Todoroki making his way in your direction. Before he could reach you, however, you slipped between the numerous people to make your way to the bar that was set up on the opposite end of the room.

Glancing over your shoulder, you let out a sigh of relief when you realized the man wasn’t following you.

The bastard had been trying since you turned 18 to arrange a marriage between you and his youngest son Shoto Todoroki ― even though the two of you were vehemently against it. But the man didn’t know how to take no for an answer and proceeded to harass you every chance he got, which was typically at functions such as the one you were currently attending.

You had long since lost sight of your parents, not that you cared. Typically they would keep you by their side to show you off and introduce you to potential suitors in hopes of making connections through marriage.

The very idea made you scoff.

As you took the drink offered from the bartender, you gave him a soft thanks before turning around. Spinning on your heel, you let out a sharp gasp when you bumped face-first into a firm chest. The jolt caused your drink to slosh over the rim and onto your hand.

You cursed, stepping back as you looked up at the wide-eyed man before you. He wore a rapidly reddening blush that burnt all the way up to his cute elf ears.

“I-I’m so sorry!” he cried, reaching into his pocket to fish out a handkerchief, taking your glass from your hand to quickly wipe the mess on your skin away, “I didn’t realize I was standing so close, I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s okay…” you whispered, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth at the sight of him.

He was tall with indigo hair that stuck up messily on the back of his head. Typically such a thing would be frowned upon ― people in high society desire to look their best, after all. Despite that, he wore a perfectly tailored tux and an expensive gold watch on his wrist. As he gazed down at his task of cleaning your hand, you noticed how long his eyelashes were as they brushed against his cheeks with every blink.

“There...I think I got it all,” he breathed, tucking the handkerchief away into his pocket without a care that it was wet with wine. At least it was white wine and not red, you mused, “You should probably wash your hands or it’ll dry your skin out or something.”

You raised a brow, not sure if such a thing could really happen. Still, you smiled and thanked him, breezing past him to find a bathroom. You still smelled like alcohol now so you needed to wash it off anyway.

When you returned to the ballroom, there was no sign of the attractive indigo hair colored man anywhere. Part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off as something silly. No point in pining after a man you spoke 10 words with after all.

You brushed off that chance meeting, not even paying it a second thought. In fact, you were certain you were either never going to meet him again or that you wouldn’t remember him even if you did.

It was wishful thinking on your end, however, because at yet another pointless high-society function, you caught sight of the messy haired man once more.

“Hey,” you greeted, making him turn away from the conversation he was having with a pretty periwinkle haired girl and tall, blonde man.

“Oh, it’s you,” he smiled, gaze softening from the guarded look he held when you’d greeted him.

From that look alone, you knew he was from a prominent family similar to yours. The type of family where you had to hold your tongue and be on guard for any shit that might come your way. It was an unpleasant, stressful existence.

“It’s me,” you smiled, nursing your glass with two hands, unsure of where to go from there, “I um...wondered what your name might be?”

He looked surprised for a second before smiling an ever-so-gentle smile, “Call me Tamaki.”

“I’m ______,” you introduced, reaching forward to shake his hand.

His grip was firm and practiced but his hand was a bit calloused from what you didn’t know. It still felt nice. His hand was bigger than yours, strong with long longers.

“These are my friends Nejire Hado and Mirio Togata,” he introduced, motioning to them.

You smiled in greeting, recognizing only the Hado name. Her family owned one of the biggest shipping companies in Japan. You wondered what Mirio and Tamaki did.

“Can I ask what your last name is?” Nejire asked.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to answer, you heard your name being called. You felt your blood freeze in your veins. You cringed, your distaste clearly written on your face to the three people standing in front of you.

“Mr. Todoroki,” you beamed fakely as you turned around, “How nice to see you!”

“My Shoto is looking for you,” he grumbled, arms crossed over his chest as he glared down at you.

“I doubt that,” you breathed.

“What was that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“I said that’s great, I’ll go find him!” you bowed briefly before brushing past him to disappear into the crowd. Looking over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes when you were finally out of sight.

What a pain in the ass that man was.

You hummed as you swung your shopping bags by your side, enjoying the setting sun beaming on your skin. It was a rare day you got to have completely for yourself with no escorts or stupid functions to be seen. In celebration, you went out shopping with your parent’s credit card ― not that they’d ever even notice.

“Excuse me!” a soft voice called from behind.

On reflex, you paused and turned around, eyes wide as you caught the familiar form of Tamaki jogging towards you. He seemed surprised as he stopped in front of you, realizing who you were.

“You…” you mumbled, “You’re not stalking me or something right?”

Immediately his eyes burst red, shaking his head wildly, “N-No of course not! Why would you think that? It’s just coincidence I swear―”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, patting his shoulder to calm him down, “What’s up?”

“You dropped this back there,” he sighed, scratching the back of his head almost nervously as he held up your folded handkerchief.

“Oh! Thank you!” you beamed, taking it from his hands.

There was a beat of silence, both of you standing there awkwardly unsure of what to say or what to do.

“Hey, you wanna get dinner or something?” you asked suddenly, obviously startling him.

“Wh-What?”

You shrugged, “You don’t have to. I figure since we’re both here, it’s almost dinner time...why not?”

He was quiet for a second, thinking it over before smiling with a soft nod, “Sure. Lead the way.”

“Oh, a gentleman,” you teased, enjoying the way his ears turned red in response.

He was a cute thing, wasn’t he? Shy and soft spoken yet still holding a strong disposition due to no doubt being raised in high society.

By the time the two of you were seated in the fancy restaurant, the sun had dipped beneath the horizon. The sky was cast a deep orange that was rapidly vanishing by the minute. The bright chandelier in the center of the room cast a relaxing light over the both of you. You moved automatically to fold the napkin over your lap with your hands folded over it. Tamaki moved the same way, flashing you a sheepish smile once the two of you were left in silence.

What you planned to be a nice, pleasant dinner ended up in a way you hadn’t expected.

In his bed.

His hand felt like heaven wrapped around your throat, giving just the smallest bit of pressure that made your head rush. He stared down at you with heated eyes, lip tucked between his teeth as he listened to the way you whimpered beneath him. You squeezed around his cock so tight he swore every time you came you almost took him with you.

Sweet Tamaki turned out to be one of the best lays of your life.

Little did you know, it was that little tumble in the sheets that would send your entire way of life ablaze.

You had no idea how it happened; what went from a casual one-night stand grew into weekly outings together to have lunch or dinner, sometimes breakfast if you could manage it eventually morphing into what you could only describe as love.

Whenever you laid your eyes on the messy-haired man, your heart raced and you felt a smile that you had no hope of fighting grow across your face. He seemed to be in the same boat, always having a deep need to touch you ― holding your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your forehead, or simply holding you in his lap.

The night you brought him to one of the famous, high-society functions as your date was the biggest mistake of your life.

“Are you nervous?” he asked teasingly, squeezing your hand in his larger one.

You beamed up at him, shaking your head, “No, of course not!” In fact, it was the opposite ― you were more than a little excited to finally reveal your relationship. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about the possibility of it being something that could end badly. Your parents hadn’t known you were seeing anyone, it’s not like you were close enough to them to actually reveal much personal information about yourself.

Usually whenever you did, it turned into a lecture that ended with you crying into your pillow feeling like shit with their harsh words echoing in your mind.

However, that night, you found yourself torn from Tamaki’s grasp. Your parents held the most hateful scowls you’d ever seen them wear as they regarded Tamaki’s parents who glared in the exact same manner.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” your mother hissed, yanking on your arm to pull you away from your boyfriend.

“Wh-What?!” you cried, struggling to get out of her iron grip, “Let go!”

“Don’t make a scene,” she hissed, tugging you harsher.

“We’ll talk when we get home,” you father hummed, voice colder than usual.

You glanced over your shoulder to see Tamaki being dragged in the opposite direction with a similar look of despair on his face as he watched you vanish from sight ― the both of you locked in a state of confusion.

Once home, the air around both of your parents was terrifying. Instinctively, you sat on the couch in the lounge with your head down as the two of them paced back and forth, collecting their thoughts.

“How dare you make a fool of us like that, _____?!” your mother cried, making you flinch.

“I-I’m sorry but I don’t understand,” you muttered, keeping your voice meek to keep from angering them further.

Your father scoffed, “Do you even know who that boy was?!”

“Tamaki Amajiki…” you replied quickly.

“Are you dating him or something?” your mother grilled, hands on his hips as she halted her pacing in front of you.

You nodded, not seeing a point in lying, “W-We’ve been together for about 6 months now…”

Your father scoffed, “You are never to see that boy again, do you understand me?”

“But why?” you asked, finally looking up.

Your parents looked bewildered, “You know we have nothing to do with that damn Amajiki family, ______. You are never to speak to their kind again.”

With that, they both stormed out of the room, leaving you more confused than before. You didn’t know that you were supposed to have nothing to do with them. It wasn’t like your parents told you anything, your older brother was the one in line to take over the family business so you rarely ever even got word of the goings on behind the scenes.

Your heart was aching as you went to bed that night, not sure what it was you were meant to do. You had texted Tamaki, seen he read your text but he never responded. It only made you hurt that much more and before you knew it, tears were dampening your pillow.

You had just about cried yourself to sleep when the sound of your balcony doors clicking open startled you upright.

“It’s just me,” Tamaki whispered, closing the doors as quietly as possible, drawing the curtains so no one could see in.

“Tamaki!” you whimpered, bolting out of bed to wrap your arms around his middle. He immediately wrapped his own around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “They said I can’t see you anymore!”

His eyes softened, cupping your tear-stained cheeks to press a kiss against your forehead, “I know. Mine said the same to me.”

“I don’t understand why!” you whimpered, fresh tears falling down your cheeks.

He shook his head, “Our familiar apparently had...some old rivalry that turned sour.”

You scoffed, “That’s stupid. It doesn’t affect us, why should we suffer for it?”

He sighed, leading you towards the bed, “I agree. All we can do is fight it, right?”

“You mean…?” you looked hopefully at him with wide eyes and he smiled.

“I wouldn’t let something like this take you from me, _____,” he promised, moving to lay beside you, pulling the blankets over your forms, “I’ll be gone before the sun rises but for now...sleep, okay?”

You nodded, burying yourself in his chest, taking in the sweet scent you grew to adore. With his heart hammering rhythmically in your ear, you fell into a peaceful sleep you were sure you weren’t going to get that night.

Tamaki’s effect on you was just that; a sense of security. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to live without it now.

Things were a bit different with you and Tamaki once you discovered you weren’t supposed to be together. It was more difficult to get away in secret, your parents for once paying actual attention to what you did. Tamaki’s were doing the same.

You found yourself sneaking out of your window in the dead of night more than you ever thought you would. It was worth it, to see the sly grin on Tamaki’s face when you texted him to warn him you were outside.

The two of you made it work, though. Six months blossomed into ten; the two of you edging on a whole year together.

One night, however, as he crawled onto your balcony, you could tell something was off.

“What’s the matter?” you asked as he sat stiffly on your bed, your hand held tightly in his trembling ones.

“______,” he sighed, head hanging low.

Your heart ached in your chest through your anxiety. You waited for him to talk, watching the way he opened his mouth several times only to close it when he changed his mind.

“This is…” he sighed, shaking his head, “This can’t work anymore.”

Those words shattered your heart in your chest and you pulled your hand from his grasp. He didn’t fight to get it back, avoiding looking at what he knew were your tear-filled eyes.

“Wh-What happened?” you whispered, voice trembling.

He shook his head again, “All this sneaking around...what’s it going to get us?” he stood up, his back to you, “Whether we’re together for a year or 5 years...are we going to sneak around forever? We can’t do that.”

“You’re...you’re breaking up with me?” you asked pitifully.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Eventually I need to be with someone I can be with. Our parents won’t let us do that...so there isn’t a point anymore. I’m sorry, _____…”

He moved to make his way to your balcony doors again when you bolted out of bed, wrapping your arms around his middle to keep him in place. He halted, letting you sob into his back, his heart breaking at the sound.

“Please don’t do this, Tama!” you cried, fisting his shirt, “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the only good thing I have ever gotten in my life. You know what this life is like! Everything about it is controlled and revolving around a stupid image but...with you I don’t have to worry about anything. I’ve never felt more free with anyone than I feel with you...Tamaki...please…”

Your brokenhearted confession spurred him into turning around, cupping your cheeks to pull you into a loving kiss. It made your head swim, your eyes fluttering shut as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the feeling of his arms around you.

He held you so desperately, like you would slip away from him any second. Part of you knew that that was exactly what would happen. Once the sun rose, that would be it ― he wouldn’t get to hold you in his arms ever again.

You pushed that thought out of your head, instead choosing to slide his shirt up until he had to break away from the kiss to tug it off.

He picked you up by the waist, spinning to deposit you on the bed. He crawled on top of you, burying his face in your neck to press soft kisses there. You angled your head back to give him all the room he needed.

He wanted so badly to mark you up, to leave you with something of his, but he couldn’t. Squeezing your eyes tight, you fought back tears as you clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders.

He reached down, pushing the hem of your silk nightgown over your hips. Sucking in a breath, he felt his cock harden rapidly at the sight of your pretty panties.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, meeting your lips for another kiss.

You cupped the back of his head, pulling him even closer, arching your hips up to grind against him. He let out of stuttering breath, gripping your hip to urge you to grind rougher.

“Please, Tama,” you begged, breathing ragged at the teasing pleasure you were receiving.

“What do you need?” he breathed, a tone you knew only you got to hear.

To everyone else, he was a timid and shy young man who had trouble maintaining eye contact for too long. But with you, being closed doors, while you shared sweet kisses and heated touches, you got a side of Tamaki no one else would get to experience.

“I need you, please,” you begged, reaching forward to pull at his belt.

It was obvious he had come straight to your place after being somewhere — perhaps dinner with his parents.

He nodded, leaning back to clumsily strip himself of his pants. He stumbled a bit, making him mutter out embarrassed apologies with bright red cheeks. Soon enough, he was on you again.

With experienced fingers, he helped strip you from your own clothes. Your nightgown came off to reveal your bare breasts, a sight Tamaki couldn't help but whimper at.

Leaning down, he enveloped one of your perked nipples in his mouth. You tugged at his head, letting out soft sighs as he switched to the other one. Wet with his saliva, the cooler air caused them to harden even more.

Feeling impatient, you began to push your panties down your hips. Tamaki, sensing your urgency, helped pull them free of your ankles, tossing them to be lost somewhere in the darkened room.

He cupped your cheek, bringing you in for yet another kiss. His lips were so soft, his kiss pouring every ounce of love he felt for you. His free hand found its way between your legs, parting your folds to graze over your clit.

You gasped into his mouth, arching your hips at his teasing touch. He smiled against your lips, circling the bud until your thighs trembled before easily sliding two digits into your clenching hole. He paused, letting you adjust to the minute stretch before angling his fingertips up to hit your sweet spot. He had long since memorized your body ― every erogenous zone, every sweet spot, it was all committed to memory.

Your body was a temple just for him and he treated it with so much care.

You were sure you would never have anyone like Tamaki Amajiki again. The thought made your heart ache and you squeezed your eyes shut to keep from crying.

He pulled his fingers free, holding them up to his face to see the way they glistened with your slick. Popping them in his mouth, he whimpered at your taste, wishing he could get on his knees and eat you out for this last time.

But the way you reached between his legs to bring the tip of his cock to your entrance let him know how desperate you were for him. Not wanting to keep you waiting, he easily slipped in with your assistance.

He sunk in to the base, let out a sharp groan as your walls squeezed him. Neither of you were willing to wait long ― he set a quick pace that brought you both great pleasure. Sweat coated your bodies and caused you to stick together. Neither of you really care, however.

You reached down to grab his hand, bringing it up to your breast. He smiled, thumbing your nipple before descending down to envelop its twin between his lips.

His tongue swirled around the bud, relishing in the way it made your walls squeeze him.

“F-Feels so good!” you whined, clawing at his back, no doubt leaving behind red scratches.

“Yeah?” he breathed, making sure to angle his hips just right to hit that spot he had memorized.

Your reaction was instantaneous, a sharp cry so loud he had to reach up to cover your mouth with his hand.

“Can’t be too loud,” he warned, his cock throbbing at the teary, pleasure-filled gaze you fixed him with.

He could feel your moans vibrating beneath his hand as he continued his sweet pace. Your walls squeezed him tight and he groaned, dipping down to press his face to your neck.

“Gonna cum,” your words were muffled but he managed to catch them.

He nodded, sitting back on his heels. His grip on your mouth moved to your throat, the long digits wrapping around your neck just the way you liked. In an instant, his pace doubled and his other hand found purchase on your pelvic bone, thumb extending out to rub at your swollen clit.

The hard bud throbbed beneath his touch as he circled it in time to his thrusts. His hand tightened against your throat, feeling your moans vibrate against his palm as you reached your high.

Your back arched and your eyes rolled back before fluttering closed. The pinch in your brow and the way your mouth hung silently open sent him over the edge, your own euphoria being enough to make him cum.

You squeezed his cock tight, milking everything he had to fill you up.

Everything came to a slow halt, Tamaki slowed his grinding before allowing his softened length to slip free. His cum dripped from your still spasming entrance, making a mess of your bedsheets. Neither of you cared, however, as he laid beside you.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest, eyes fluttering with sleep.

“...I love you too,” he replied, kissing the top of your head.

As you drifted to sleep, you missed the flood of tears that dripped down his still flushed cheeks.

The next morning, the birds chirping from your open balcony door woke you up. Immediately, images of last night came to mind. You sat up, holding your sheets to your chest as you looked around.

Your nightgown and panties Tamaki had stripped you of were folded atop your dresser and there was no sign of your boyfriend.

Or rather...ex-boyfriend.

The thought made your heart clench and you couldn’t stop the stinging in your eyes.

It was really over.

Your parents miracuously, and unfortunately, noticed the rapid change in your demeanor. They grilled you on the cause, although they already knew it was related to your feelings for Tamaki. Over the course of the month since he disappeared from your bed without another word, you’d grown more withdrawn and lonely. The everyday, boring rule-filled life you lived losing the tiny glimmer of happiness Tamaki once provided.

“Is this about Tamaki’s engagement?” your mother asked one evening, making everything around you come to a screeching halt. Your eyes fell to her at the other end of the table. She wasn’t looking at you, shaking her head as she cut the steak on her plate, “It’s silly to be upset over something like that. I would have expected you to be over him by now.”

“I love him…” you confessed tearfully.

Your father scoffed, “don’t be ridiculous. Love is pointless, you know that.”

“But I…” you were cut off by your mother’s sharp glare.

“You think your father and I love each other?” you fell silent at those words, “You’d be wise to let go of that stupid fantasy of marrying for love right now.”

“We’ll take care of that soon, don’t you worry,” your father threatened with a glare that let you know the conversation was over.

The man certainly lived up to his threat because the following week, you found yourself sitting at a table with Enji and Rei Todoroki. Shoto Todoroki sat stiffly to your right, fisting his dress pants with a cold look on his face.

“I’m glad you’ve finally seen reason,” Enji spoke in that ugly, superior tone that made your face morph to one of disgust. Glancing at Shoto, you saw his eyes narrowed at his father.

At least he seemed to hate him as well.

“Well, our daughter seems to need it,” your mother spoke in a sickly sweet tone, “She’s got this foolish idea of love in her silly head. So we decided your offer for marrying young Shoto couldn’t have happened at a better time!”

Enji nodded with his arms crossed over his puffed out chest, “Excellent. You won’t regret your decision. I’ll have the proper paperwork filed as soon as this weekend and we can begin the proper preperations.”

You heard Shoto sigh beside you as he stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to find a sorrowful look in his eyes that almost made you cry, “I’m sorry…”

With that soft sentiment whispered soft enough that no one could hear him, he held his hand out to you. You sighed and took it, allowing him to help you to your feet.

“_____ and I will take a walk,” Shoto announced, “I’d like to get to know her a bit more.”

“Excellent idea, dear,” Rei praised, though you couldn’t help but think the smile on her face was more than fake.

Shoto squeezed your hand, leading you out of the room. Once the two of you were safely away from the prying eyes of staff, hidden away in the garden, he released your hold.

“You fell in love with someone you weren’t supposed to, huh?” he mused, making you look up at him in shock. He chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, whatever you tell me is safe with me.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, frowning at the cobblestone ground, “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be with him until we were already together. My parents keep telling me it’s stupid to be in love…”

“I understand,” he sighed, starting a slow pace walking around with his hands clasped behind his back. When you looked up at him, he was gazing at the moon, the light making the glassiness of his eyes even more visible than you would have thought, “I did the same thing.”

“Really?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, chin wobbling slightly before he spoke, “Her name was Momo. We were together for almost 3 years before she was married off to some guy before I even knew it was happening. She told me that it was never going to work between us anyway so we shouldn’t have even bothered,” he sighed, “I was pretty heartbroken.”

“It seems you still are,” you mused softly.

He chuckled, looking over at you finally with a sad smile, “That’s the life we live, isn’t it? Sad and lonely...nothing is truly ours, not even our love.”

Those words resonated in your heart, making you bite your lip to fight back tears. He stopped, taking your hand in his similar to how Tamaki had that last night you were together.

“Regardless of whether we are married or not,” he breathed, “I will never expect you to love me but...I will make sure you at least enjoy my company. I won’t let us become like our parents. We can at least have that bit of happiness to ourselves, right?”

“Shoto…” you breathed, the tears you had been fighting back finally coming forth.

He cupped the back of your head, bringing you in for a sweet hug, “Who knows...maybe if we’re lucky we’ll be able to love each other in the end…”

Those words faded into the night, neither of you sure if such a thing would ever be possible. Both of your hearts already belonged to other people. It was a painful existence but you could have wound up arranged to be wed to a worse man.

Shoto wasn’t bad, you knew that. He managed to make you feel happy when you were together ― which became more frequent the closer your wedding date grew. Of course, he didn’t make you anywhere near as happy as Tamaki did.

You desperately missed the closeness you felt with him. How it felt to be wrapped up in the strong arms of a man who loved you. Almost every night, you found yourself sleeping on a wet pillow.

The night before your wedding, you found yourself sitting in your bedroom with a dual haired man standing in the middle of it. It felt so strange; he was going to be your husband in just 12 hours but you still had another man on your mind.

You remembered how it felt to have Tamaki sneaking into your room late at night too.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked softly.

“You’ve been crying,” he pointed out, making you wince.

“I’m sorry…” you apologized, unsure what for.

“Why are you saying sorry?” he chuckled softly, walking closer to you.

“I’m crying because I’m marrying you tomorrow, that can’t feel very good,” you sighed.

He shook his head, hands tucked in his pockets, “I get it. That’s why I came here.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, wiping a stray tear away.

“_____,” he sighed, “Is it really worth it? What do you get out of doing what they say? You’re an adult...there’s nothing they can do to stop you from leaving. You have a good education and I’m sure Tamaki does as well,” his words had you pausing, “You might not wind up with as much money as you have now but at least you’ll have the freedom to be a person. I lost my chance by letting my parents control my life and take Momo away from me. But you still have a chance.”

“Are you saying…?”

He smiled, placing his hand on top of your head, “Be with Tamaki. Even if it’s just for a few months or a few years, you’ll know what it’s like to live your own life. I can’t even imagine what they could feel like. Aren’t you tired of living like this? With all these rules...they tell us who we can be friends with, what to eat, how to sit at the damn dinner table...we’re barely even people. We’re just a means of obtaining power. Our parents marry us to the most powerful families they can in hopes of getting an heir worth a damn. It’s bullshit.”

“Shoto…” you whispered, a new sense of life flowing through you, “What if he’s not willing to leave it all?”

He shrugged, “Then at least you can say you tried and...in the morning if it didn’t work then you can marry me and we’ll adopt a damn dog or something.”

“I’m allergic to dogs,” you countered.

“A fucking cat then,” the uncharacteristic curse had you giggling into your hand.

“Thank you, Shoto,” he took a step back as you stood up, “I’ll see you around.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, watching as you wrapped a measly bathrobe around yourself, not a care in the world about getting properly dressed.

You were out of breath by the time you made it to Tamaki’s. Your car was parked down the street to avoid attracting any attention. Tamaki’s bedroom light was on and you eagerly climbed the lattice that decorated the side of the house.

Peeking into his room, you could see that he was sitting at his desk, writing something. He tensed when he heard his balcony door open, spinning in his chair to gape at you.

“_____?” he gasped, jumping to his feet to shut the door and close the curtain. He gripped your arms, hissing when he felt your temperature, “It’s freezing out what the hell are you doing wearing that?”

You beamed at his care for you, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Immediately, his hands found purchase on your hips to hold you against him.

“Run away with me, Tama,” you breathed.

He froze, pulling away from you with wide eyes, “Wh-What?”

“Run away with me,” you repeated, fisting his shirt, “What’s really keeping us here? We can make it on our own, we have good educations and can get good jobs. We can be together and be happy without outside voices whispering in our ears. We can be normal people, Tamaki.”

He was quiet, loosening his grip on you to take a few steps back. He ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. The happiness and confidence you had built up quickly crashed and you found yourself feeling foolish.

Why would he want to leave everything behind for you? He was in the same position as you; due to be married soon. Hanging your head, you let out a sigh.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, shrugging your shoulders, “I get it’s something really big to ask. You don’t have to take me up on it. I just thought...I would see.”

He still didn’t say anything and you turned on your heel to make way for the balcony, “I’m um...getting married tomorrow so...I just thought you should know that I love you so much, Tama. Being with you was the best thing I ever had...even when I’m married with Shoto, I’ll never stop thinking of you, okay? I wish you the best in your own marriage.”

You got out to the balcony, swinging one leg over the rail to climb down when two strong arms pulled you back. You gasped when you fell to the ground, your weight pressed against Tamaki as he buried his face in your neck. It didn’t take you long to realize he was crying. His tears wet your shoulder as he squeezed you tight.

“Don’t go,” he cried, “The idea of you being with another man...it’s too much.”

“Tama…” you whispered, holding onto him in return.

“Let’s do it,” he sniffled, pulling back to gaze into your eyes. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips to yours, “I’ll pack a bag. Have you got a bag?”

“No,” you replied sheepishly, “I wasn’t sure if you would say yes so I didn’t want to assume.”

He chuckled, untangling himself from you before moving back into his room, tossing all sorts of clothes and valuables into his suitcase. You laughed as he talked about selling stuff for money.

Before long, he was packed and ready to go.

Once you were sitting inside your car, the heat blasting as you warmed your cold skin, he reached over and took your hand in his. You looked at him, finding that familiar look of love in his eyes that never failed to make your heart soar.

As he squeezed your hand, you just knew that everything was going to be just fine.

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki smut #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha smut

2K notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

Snowstorm | MYG

~summary:

Strange things happen in the woods when you return home for Christmas. And why does your mum insist you stay away from Min Yoongi?

Yoongi x female reader

~word count: 6k

~magic au, jack frost au, childhood friend au, angst, fluff

Rating: pg

Warnings: overbearing parent, rumours and gossip, swearing, storms and bad weather

~a/n: this is a repost, I put this up this morning but for some reaason it hasn’t shown up in the tags so I am trying again. ~original a/n: got this one out just in time... this is my fic for November keyword ‘magic’ for @thebtswritersclub!! This started from the bingo square ‘jack frost’, one I wasn’t sure whether to write, but it was perfect for a magic au, so I hope you enjoy it! Keep a lookout for more festive fics from me over December,, I’ve just realised quite how many fics I have to find time to write among my end of term essays yAy

They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.

It’s not as young as it once was, but neither are you. You come back to it every year, these woods. Someone needs to look after it. Not like you do that, but at least taking the time to come back and see it makes you feel a little better.

Maybe you aren’t looking after it, but at least you’re looking.

Being home from college is… fun. Mostly.

You love your family, but you sure as hell love these woods too, for when you’ve had enough. There’s one tree that forks into two, right at the heart, that you cried under countless times throughout your childhood.

Now it’s more for nostalgia. Coming home for the long college holidays, you’ve grown up and your family let you do your thing, so you don’t generally have a need to sob your heart out in the wilderness anymore.

Wow, this is making your childhood sound really bad. It wasn’t.

But whenever it was, the woods were there.

Winter is making itself felt now, air slowly numbing your face and fingers. You trail them across the bark of a tree you pass before digging them reluctantly into your coat pockets.

This tree doesn’t look too healthy. Though it still felt normal, the bark is thinning. You wonder if it will live to see new leaves in the spring.

Overhead, the dappled grey sky bears a heavier shadow. You should probably be getting back soon. Making your way, without hurrying, towards the edge of the trees, you trod over their forgotten leaves as they faded into the ground.

Soon the soft carpet of the forest petered out and you found yourself on the familiar roads that led back to your house.

No one else really seemed to be about apart from you. Except for whoever that was that just came around the corner. Hold on-

Is Min Yoongi back here? Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod-

Sucking in a deep breath, you did your utmost to avoid staring at him, eyes trailing along the ground instead. As you drew closer to each other, your grew heartbeat louder in your ears.

Now that wasn’t fair. You were meant to be over this.

But of course that was never the case.

Min Yoongi had grown up here too, a boisterous child that grew into a reserved teenager. What he was doing with himself now, you had no idea, but what was important is that he was here right now. Because maybe the monster crush you harboured for him had never really gone away.

In school, you two had been friends. Not the closest, but you would hang out together, always too shy to really talk. Now the course of life had taken you two apart; you weren’t sure you had spoken to him since you were sixteen.

Okay, he was only steps away now. You had to stay calm.

Act natural. Pretend you haven’t seen him.

Wait, no. That would be impossible. There’s only the two of you on this road, how could you not notice him?

You didn’t want to come off as rude if you ignored him.

In your panic, you looked up to find his eyes trained on you already. While your brain was busy short-circuiting, you settled for a small smile and a quick wave.

For one mortifying moment, you thought he didn’t recognise you at all. His eyebrows remained slightly creased, but just as you were nearly past him, his eyes widened.

“Y/N!”

The wide smile that had taken over his face retreated into a small, shy one as you stopped.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you smiled back.

“What are you up to?” he asked, glancing briefly to the end of the road you had just come from. Towards the forest.

“Just out for a walk,” you explained, “getting away from my family for a bit.”

“I can understand that,” he laughed quietly, scratching absently behind one ear.

“I didn’t realise you were back here,” you prompted after he trailed off, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah, and you,” he nodded, “it’s strange being back sometimes, but it’s good you’re here too.”

Despite the cold, your felt heat in your cheeks. What did he just say?

“I-I mean,” he stuttered, “like, it’s weird, when things are different than you remember them , and so it’s nice when you see someone familiar… yeah.”

“Yeah, yeah, I totally get you,” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “like the forest, it’s not the same anymore-“

“Not the same,” he grimaced, then froze, realising you spoke in unison.

Wide eyed, laughter bubbled from both of you

“Are you going there now?” you asked, “it’s a bit cold isn’t it?”

As the two of you had stood talking, the light had steadily drained from the sky.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he smirked.

Surprised by his sudden confidence, you just smiled.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I should probably be getting home, though.”

“Sure,” he nodded quickly.

“See you.”

Glancing at the inky sky, you turned to leave, hands delving deeper into the warmth of your coat pockets, when Yoongi cleared his throat behind you.

“Um…”

Now a few steps away from him, you looked over your shoulder.

“We should catch up some time. Properly. If-if you’d like.”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled widely.

“Nice. I’ll, um, see you soon.”

He gave you a wave, smile dancing on his lips. The moment you turned away, you bit your lip, trying to contain your grin. Practically bouncing your way home, your cheeks were burning by the time you reached your front door.

Stiff fingers fiddling with the key, at last you let yourself in.

No doubt hearing you stomping your shoes on the doormat, your mum came around the corner.

“You were gone a while,” she observed.

“Yeah, bumped into Yoongi on the way back,” you begrudgingly explained.

“Min Yoongi?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I remember when you used to have a silly crush on that boy!” she laughed. Kicking your shoes off, you rolled your eyes but followed her through to the kitchen.

“His family’s always been very strange though,” she continued, “they don’t really talk to anyone. Half the time I don’t even know if there’s anyone at home.”

“You��re spying on their house now?” you joked.

“Well, when they’re shut in all summer, you can’t help wondering,” she defended, “very strange, the lot of them… you would do well to stay away from them, Y/N.”

“But-“

“You’re not even friends with him, why should it be an issue?”

“You’re right,” you sighed.

It was easier to let it slide.

They’re cutting the trees down in the forest.

Walking between the ones that still stand, Yoongi’s mind is still full of you. At least someone else still saw this place. Still cared.

And truth be told, he still cared about you. A chance to see the forest and a chance to speak to you were what kept bringing him back. It would be easy to find another forest somewhere, some wide open space, wilder than this.

But there was a soft spot in his heart for his hometown.

Raising a hand above his head, he sent the last few leaves clinging to a branch spiralling down to the floor on a gust of wind. As he lowered his arm, he let his fingers trail across the bark, leaving frost in their wake.

It was hard, having to hide. His mother told him he couldn’t get close to anyone here. Anyone that didn’t know.

Even playing with you as five-year-olds had been crossing the line, apparently.

On the ground, the leaves cleared from his path. The wind blew colder, skeletal branches rattling together as clouds knitted closer together above.

At the heart of the forest, there was a tree whose trunk forked into two. Climbing nimbly up into the gap, he settled himself and planted his palms against the bark.

“Y/N, go and fetch the bin. It’s frosty again.”

Without questioning, you did as your mother said. She was right about the frost. Unlike her, though, you adored it. Just outside your doorstep, you stopped to stare at the thin coating of white that covered the street.

Every house, every garden, every car was painted with the delicate brush strokes of winter.

Once you had tugged the bin up the drive, you found your mother still talking inside.

“Thanks, love,” she smiled, placing a bowl in front of you, “gosh, I can’t wait for summer again. I can’t stand it’s so cold all the time.”

Instead of voicing your disagreement, you hummed noncommittally as you poured yourself some cereal.

Maybe you would go back to the forest later. It was all you daydreamed about as you munched on your breakfast before retreating to your room.

Until someone knocked on the door.

What you hadn’t seen was the fist hovering over wood, raising and lowering countless times before it finally sounded through your house. Frowning, you stood from your bed and peeked around your window frame.

Min Yoongi was standing in front of your house.

The distinct sound of the door swinging open downstairs snapped you from your reverie, frozen on the spot. Shutting your gaping mouth, you looked around, panicked. Your mother was speaking.

You crossed your room in no less than two strides, throwing the door open and speeding down the stairs.

“What brings you here?” your mum was saying as you dashed up behind her.

“Hi Yoongi!” you exclaimed, panting slightly, “thanks mum.”

But of course she couldn’t take the hint. As you waited with bated breath for her to leave the two of you alone, she just looked slowly between you instead.

“You’re here to see my daughter?”

Yoongi swallowed hard under her stare.

“Yes, he is, mum,” you spoke, tone strained.

Really, sometimes it was like you never left. You felt like you had been transported straight back to your school years, asking your mum for permission to go out.

“And we’re going out,” you said firmly when greeted with silence.

Grabbing your coat, you slipped past her.

“Strange to see him out,” she muttered.

Praying Yoongi didn’t hear her sly comment, you hastily shut the door.

“Sorry,” you grimaced, “where do you fancy?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Following his lead, you fell into step, heading away from your house.

“I see why you prefer the trees for company.”

Now that startled a laugh out of you. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you stared at Yoongi walking beside you. He didn’t seem fazed, suddenly confident again beside you, hands buried in his hoodie as he kicked his feet walking along.

Lost quickly in conversation, you walked together until you found him leading you towards a small café.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Um, yeah, hot chocolate?” you answered timidly.

Smiling, he disappeared inside and reappeared very soon with two steaming takeaway cups.

“Thanks,” you breathed, taking one warm cup from his fingers and cradling it between your own.

“Didn’t want you to get cold.”

And it certainly did help. Of course you next walked down towards the woods, without a word passing between you about your destination. With the warmth flowing through you, you were perfectly content to keep going through the chilly air as you ditched the cups in a bin.

“Do you remember when Tae got stuck in that tree?” Yoongi commented.

Looking to where he gestured, you laughed.

“It was that one?”

“Yep, it’s still got that branch snapped off,” he pointed.

“Oh, yeah,” you giggled, “that feels so long ago now, doesn’t it?”

Sighing, he took another sip.

“Yeah. It does.”

Silence settled for a short moment, only your muffled steps sounding in the woods.

“Do you know if the others ever come back here?” you wondered aloud.

“Haven’t seen any of them,” he shrugged.

Way back when, there was a huge group at school, which was how you grew connected to Yoongi. There was still a group chat buried somewhere in your phone, but you hadn’t heard from most of them in a long time.

“It’s just us then,” you mused.

“I guess it is,” Yoongi said, a large smile spreading onto his face.

Then he halted, stooping down to the floor. Beside him, you watched him in confusion.

Until he sprung up, a handful of fallen leaves suddenly finding their way into your face.

“Yah!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up too late.

As the last one fell from your spluttering face, you found the shape of Yoongi several trees away, running. Mouth falling open, you instantly gave chase, quickly reaching down for a bundle of your own leaves.

“Min Yoongi!” you yelled, a reply reaching you in the form of his breathless laughter.

Pushing yourself on, your feet pounded towards him. He slowed, going over a slope, giving you opportunity enough to catch up, launching the leaves at his back.

“Argh!” he laughed, arms flapping from beneath the flurry of leaves.

But you couldn’t revel in your revenge for long, as another faceful of leaves was booted towards you. You only caught a glimpse of his gummy smile for a moment before he saw your glare and bolted again.

A gust of wind hindered you pursuit, throwing more soggy leaves at you.

Up ahead, Yoongi was scrambling up a tree. Just as you reached it, he seated himself on a branch, out of your reach. Breathless with laughter, you still tried, flinging leaves up in the air towards him.

They barely reached his feet, swinging above you, instead floating for a pathetic moment before falling right back on top of you.

Shaking them from your head, you heard Yoongi’s loud laughter above you.

Looking up, you were met with an enormous gummy smile as he slipped back down the tree, dropping deftly onto the ground, shoulders still shaking with laughter.

“Sorry,” he panted.

He reached a hand out towards you then. Frozen in surprise, you watched as his thumb met your nose, quickly swiping across it. Cold lingered there as his hand came away, a slight smudge of mud wiped on it.

Self consciously rubbing your nose yourself, you let out a chuckle, a shiver passing through you only a moment later.

“Shit, are you cold?” his smile faltered.

“It’s okay,” you assured, “we’ve just been running about. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he frowned slightly.

Turning away a little, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Going with him, you two headed across the woods to the other edge, where you could look over your town as it fell away into countryside. The sky was striped with clouds, yellowish light dimming behind them.

This felt good.

You’ve always liked this forest, hated sharing it with anyone else. But you didn’t mind with Yoongi. After so long, it was odd how quickly you felt comfortable. How fast your feelings resurfaced.

And you couldn’t help wondering…

“Hey, Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“Was this… meant to mean anything?”

“What do you mean?” he turned towards you.

You swallowed. Fuck. You might have just shoved your foot in it.

“Er, well, I mean, like, a date or something?” you spoke nervously.

The moment his eyebrows raised, you were certain you had made a mistake.

“Well, no…”

Oh shit.

“But it can be.”

You blinked.

“Say that again?”

“It can be,” he chuckled, warm smile making another appearance.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I heard you right,” you said, stunned, turning back to the view. Then you glanced back at him. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to a date?”

“Nope,” he shook his head.

“With me?”

A chuckle responded. “Yes, Y/N. With you.”

In the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement. But then it stopped. Looking around, you saw Yoongi return his hand to his pocket, casting his eyes down.

By the time you were both approaching your driveway again, it was forgotten. You were practically glowing.

Until you saw the figure of your mother in the front window.

The moment she laid eyes on you, she was gone from the window and appeared in the doorway instead.

“Shit, sorry,” you muttered, sharing a glance with Yoongi, “this has been really fun…”

Getting the message, he sent you a smile that squeezed his eyes.

Then he slowed beside you and you carried on, pulling away with a smile of your own.

As you drew closer, your mum stepped out and down the steps.

“Are you alright? Where did you go?” she asked straight away.

She really was worried about this, huh?

“Mum, it’s fine,” you frowned, unable to help the look over your shoulder, “we just went for a walk, what’s the problem?”

If this was her reaction to you spending time with the guy platonically, you thought it safer to leave out the other details for now.

“I told you, something’s not right with him,” she hissed, clearly trying to keep a low voice. Not that she was successful.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” you urged.

Glancing back just before you closed the door, you saw Yoongi turning away. You longed to reach for him, call out to him…

The door clicked shut.

In front of you, your mother stood with folded arms.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“I don’t know about him, Y/N,” she shook her head, “since he was a child, he’s always been… different.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, whenever there was an accident on the playground, he always seemed to be around. All of us parents knew, it’s why I told you to be careful with him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Vaguely, you recalled her saying something like that, but you must have been very small. Either way, perhaps you did stray away from him on the playground.

“No one ever knew for sure, but there were rumours,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead, “maybe he was just troublesome and liked pushing other kids over, but then his family… they never tried to fit in here.”

“And the town gossip has you this worried?” you asked, incredulous.

“I was pleased you were staying away from him in school,” she glared at you, “so where’s this come from? I hoped that silly crush was over.”

“If I was in trouble I would tell you, and you know that,” you stepped forwards, “but I can be with whoever I like! I’m not in school anymore, and Yoongi’s a grown adult too.”

Her eyebrows shot upwards.

“So you’re with him now?”

“…maybe, but what does it matter? It’s what I want to do, mum, I’ll be fine.”

Met with your pleading eyes, she merely glared back, arms tightly folded. She exhaled steadily through her nose.

“Just come and have dinner.”

It started snowing.

You knew your mum wouldn’t want you to go outside in that. But maybe that made it all the more appealing.

She wasn’t over it, and you knew it. Sly comments kept coming your way over dinner, riling you up. Why was she letting schoolground gossip get in the way of you and Yoongi?

By the end of dinner, you were reaching the end of your tether.

If you could just go for a walk, cool off. Literally. Stepping outside, you already hugged your coat a little bit tighter around you.

Just to the forest and back, not far beyond the streetlights, then come back. But as your feet stomped through the newly settling snow, stray flakes catching in your hair, your scowl never lifted.

Your mum had never been too controlling, so why was she so riled up about this one thing? And something that was so important to you? Since school you had had a crush on Yoongi, all those years hanging onto every smile, every laugh, and now something was finally coming true.

Of course that wouldn’t be allowed. Of course, in her book, a bad child grew into a bad adult.

It was true that this town could be very self-contained and you were well used to news circulating. No wonder you hadn’t seen Yoongi back here before. You wanted this to be your chance.

Head turned down against the oncoming snow, you blinked cold flakes from your eyelashes. It was thicker now, blurring in front of you when you looked up.

A gust of wind threaded its fingers through your hair, biting across your slightly damp face. Shoulders hunching, you tried to look around you. Acting of their own accord, your feet had carried you to the forest.

You should head back.

Turning on the spot, you squinted through the darkness for the streetlights at the edge of the trees.

But darkness surrounded you.

Stomach dropping, you rubbed your hands together in front of you. Definitely should have worn gloves.

The white that now coated the forest floor and its branches reflected the precious little moonlight that could reach you here, letting you know you were among the larger trees. Your mind whirled with panic almost as fast as the snow falling around you.

When a shiver shook your frame, you knew you had to move.

If you picked a direction, you would surely find a way back eventually. The forest wasn’t that big, was it?

Maybe they had cut down some trees, but it turned out the woodland was not small. At least, it didn’t feel that way when cold water was seeping through your jeans and clinging to your face and hair. Try as you might to carve out a straight path, the snowstorm was growing, wind forcing you to lower your head.

Still, all you could see was darkness, the ghosts of trees looming from behind the blizzard in the air.

Sniffling, you tried to fight off the panicked tears threatening to spill. This had all been a bad idea. You just wanted to get home.

But unbeknownst to you, someone else was in the woods too.

Not many trees away, perched in his usual spot, Yoongi’s palms met the gnarled bark as he channelled his energy. The storm fell peacefully around him. Breathing deeply, he felt himself letting go.

He knew what this town thought of him. He hadn’t been careful enough, like his parents had told him to. He just never thought that anyone would still remember, not least your mother.

But he couldn’t claim she was wrong. Being Jack Frost came with its dangers, its responsibilities.

And he should have known better. He just wanted you, badly enough that he decided to go for it against his better judgement.

His sadness made itself known in storms like this: not violent or noisy, just cold.

As the white flakes filled the air, he looked out across the darkness of the forest. Wind tugged gently at his white hair but the snow didn’t touch him, evaporating before it hit his shoulders.

He called another gust of wind, threading it through the air, across the land.

When it reached him, it carried something with it.

His eyes opened, looking around through the storm to see where it had come from. It was normal for the branches to rattle, for animals to scurry home, but that wasn’t either sound. It sounded like a person. And not a happy one.

No one else should be out here.

Turning his head left and right, he finally made out a shadowy shape a few trees away.

Quickly and quietly, he slid off his perch, obscuring his body with the trunk of the tree. Around him, the snow calmed a little, drifting calmly once more.

As the person walked closer, he saw them wipe a hand across their cheek. And that sound came again. Were they… crying?

Louder this time, and finally they stepped into a lighter patch…

His eyes widened. What the hell were you doing out here? Assessing you with a flick of his eyes, he knew you must be freezing.

When you stopped suddenly, turning around as your shoulders slumped, he had to force himself to stay behind his tree.

Briefly wetting his lips with his tongue, he looked towards the shortest way out. Why weren’t you going that way? Instead, you were stumbling off in the opposite direction, looking to the ground.

“No,” he muttered urgently, head darting between you and the right path.

Then he made a snap decision.

Pursing his lips, he called up a gust of wind with a quirk of his hand, stopping you in your tracks as it collided with you forcefully. With wide eyes, you whipped around as the wind charged through the forest, carving a winding channel through the trees.

And on the path it tracked, the snow stopped, hovering in stasis along the sides as if lighting the way.

Not daring to breathe, Yoongi studied your face carefully as you stared at the space path he had created. Slowly coming to your senses, you turned your head. He ducked back behind the trunk, breaths falling shallow from his lips.

The snow suspended in the air waited with him until crunching footsteps met his ears.

Peering back out, he watched your form retreating through the woods, perfectly framed between the trees as you trod the right path.

He watched you go, knowing what he had to do.

The snow fell thicker.

Yoongi would come around soon. The day after your little escapade into the storm, he hadn’t shown his face. But that was fine. It would be weird to come back the day after your first… whatever it was. Right?

But today, he would come.

And when he did, you would make sure you got his number. In a town like this, he could easily come knocking, like he had the other day, but you were sick of waiting around like this.

All day you had been restless, failing to keep yourself from the window as you hoped to see him walking down your road. You longed to tell him about what you had seen in the woods that night.

It had taken you a while to decide you hadn’t dreamt it. But the chills running though you and the damp clothes on your radiator said otherwise. Sure, you had always felt a connection with the woods, but you never expected them to do something in return.

That was what happened, though. They had shown you the way home through the storm.

Last night, you had braved the cold to go there again. The snow lay harmlessly on the ground by now, but you had still kept your wits about you and gone before dark.

Nothing.

Maybe it would just be your little secret.

Or yours and Yoongi’s, if he ever turned up.

The urge to look out of the window returned, and you fought valiantly. Staring at the ceiling was a lot less productive than staring outside, so eventually you stood.

And gaped.

He was actually there!

Right on your driveway, biting his lip as he looked up at your house.

Or maybe…

He was looking at your mum. You stilled, having been ready to race downstairs, but now you watched in horror as your mum marched down the drive.

“Sorry, Yoongi,” you heard, “Y/N isn’t in.”

“Oh, sorry Mrs L/N,” he bowed his head, “I just wanted to talk to her-“

“Well you’ll be doing no such thing,” she snapped, “she won’t be getting mixed up with you. I think you should leave now.”

Hands shaking as they gripped the window frame, you were ready to run out to them, when you heard something in response. It was quiet, so you had to strain to hear it, but when you did you could only stare.

“Could you just… could you tell her that I like her? A lot.”

Your mum scoffed, but as she opened her mouth he continued, looking at the floor.

“-and I won’t be seeing her again. You’re right. I’ll stay away.”

Rooted on the spot, you could only gape as the figures of Yoongi and your mother stood still outside. Then your mum broke the silence.

“Very good.”

“Will you tell her?”

“You should leave,” she said firmly.

Shoulders slumping, he turned away, not even looking back. His footsteps carrying him away were what finally made you move.

“Yoongi!” you shouted, tearing down the stairs as the door slammed.

“Y/N,” your mother’s voice warned.

“What is going on!” you asked desperately, trying to move around her only to be blocked.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“No! That’s not true! I heard him-“

“He won’t be seeing you then. It’s for the best.”

“Why?” you cried, tears pricking at your eyes, “what is so wrong with him?”

But instead of an equal retaliation, she heaved a sigh. Blinking furiously, you watched her raise her eyes to meet yours.

“His family… they’ve lived here as long as ours. They’re all strange. Weird things happen. Some sort of… magic. And they don’t mix with us. Never have, but that’s how it should be. They’re not like us, Y/N,” she finished with emphasis.

Meanwhile, a frown had taken over your face.

“That’s- what- that’s ridiculous!” you spluttered, “he’s not magic! And if he is, I don’t care!”

And with that, you pushed past her, tumbling out onto the drive, eyes desperately scanning the bare street.

But you didn’t stop there. Ignoring the defeated calls of your mother, you started running. Yoongi couldn’t have got far; and anyway, you had an idea where he might have gone. You had to catch up. You couldn’t let go of him this easily.

Feet pounding hard on the ground beneath you, you barely noticed the darkening sky above you. Clouds swirled together, looming over your small town.

The wind picked up, throwing your hair back in your face as it tore back and forth across the path. As you dashed at last between the shadows of trees, the floor was practically crawling as leaves tossed themselves along the ground.

Some launched upwards as powerful gusts rushed through the bare branches above, and soon the pummelling of hail joined the rattling of the trees.

Stumbling to a stop deep in the forest, you whirled around, trying to spot Yoongi. Wind continued to assault you, swirling in all directions in the air, trees groaning among the whooshing air.

“Yoongi!” you called at the top of your lungs. Your voice was lost instantly in the cacophony of the storm, stinging hailstones on your cheeks the only response.

Exhaling swiftly, you took off once more, still calling out.

And then you saw him.

Shoulders hunched, his outstretched arms were braced against a tree. Though his head was lowered, you could see the heaving of his chest.

Picking up the pace, you smiled in relief.

“Yoongi!”

Instantly, he sprung away from the tree, head darting around him as he looked for you. But when he met your eyes, they only grew.

And then he was running too.

Away from you.

“Hey! Yoongi!” you shouted after him.

But a roar from the forest drowned you out.

Running faster, hail chucked itself spitefully into your face, the wind surging against you from the darkening sky. Struggling on, you held your hands in front of your face, only lowering them when you trailed to a stop.

Yoongi was nowhere in sight.

Something was wrong. Why was he running away from you?

A loud creak from somewhere above you made you wince. Moving again, you called out Yoongi’s name into the storm.

The hail let up a little as you pressed on, but the raging air only grew more forceful. Creaks and groans from the battered trees surrounded you. Squinting around you, you let your feet stumble on, needing to find him. Among the storm, you could barely hear your thumping footsteps.

An ear-splitting creak made you flinch, head whipping around.

The dark shape of a tree trunk was growing bigger – growing closer.

A blur then, your eyes squeezing shut by instinct, awaiting the crash of the giant hitting the earth.

Nothing.

Cracking your eyelids open, the wind lulled in the air around you, silence buzzing loud in your ears. In front of you, the tree was tilting dangerously, towering directly over you, but caught in mid-air. And holding it up, a colossal sheet of ice, jagged icicles sticking out to one side as if from impact.

You blinked. Let out a breath.

Following the trail of ice, you turned to the side.

There, hand still outstretched, panting slightly, stood Min Yoongi.

“I’m sorry,” he half-whispered.

As you stared blankly back in shock, his eyes flicked back to the tree above you.

“Come here,” he spoke, beckoning you with his other hand.

Obeying, you trod carefully towards him. Once near enough, he gently placed a hand on your sweater-covered arm, guiding you to his side.

As you watched, he lowered his left hand slowly, the wall of ice retracting with it, melting back into the ground. With barely a bump, the tree was lowered to rest.

Returning your eyes gingerly to the boy beside you, your gaze was not returned.

His eyelids shut, lips pressing together as he bowed his head, bringing his arm back to his side at last. He swallowed.

“Y-yoongi?” you whispered.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he muttered, still not meeting your eyes, “I should never have started anything…”

“But-but I want you!” you protested.

Now he looked at you. He looked at you like you were crazy.

“Did you not see that? What I just did?”

“You saved me.”

A breath.

“But… all the rest? I-I made that tree fall too-”

“The wind made it fall-“

“Y/N,” he stopped you, “your mum is right. I can be dangerous, okay? This storm, that’s me.”

Studying your face carefully, he waited for your reaction.

“Why?”

“It’s always been like this,” he sighed, “I’m… I have storm magic. Winter magic. My family, we’re- I’m… Jack Frost.”

Your eyebrows raised.

“No, but I mean, why the storm? Is something wrong?”

A breathy laugh burst from his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Of course there is! I can’t have you.”

“You don’t have to be scared,” you insisted.

“Don’t you understand? You’re the one who should be scared!” he cried, throwing his arms out.

“No,” you shushed him, stepping forward and slowly reaching out, “you’re scared – of hurting me. You don’t have to be.”

Settling, he watched your hand reach through the air. But as it hovered by his cheek, he pulled away.

“Don’t…”

“Yoongi, I want you.”

“And I want you. But you can’t touch me. I’ll just be cold…”

“Don’t worry,” you smiled.

But as you moved again, his hand came up to grasp your wrist, stopping you.

Then his eye widened, realising what he’d done. But you hadn’t flinched away. Looking at your hands held together, his mouth formed ghosts of words he never spoke, not knowing what to say.

“See?” you encouraged, “it’s not cold.”

Wonder-filled eyes rose, meeting your own. Closing the distance between you, he dropped your wrist and lifted both his hands to cup your face instead, touching you softly as if you were made from porcelain.

A breath escaped his lungs, mouth curving into a gummy smile.

Elated, a smile tugged at your own lips.

Then he surged forwards, lips pressing against yours like a starved man. Moving his mouth hungrily over yours, he held your face firmly between his hands as you eagerly kissed him back. Suddenly his hands were unable to get enough, sliding down to your waist and roaming across your back as he pulled you closer.

Equally enthusiastic, you tugged at his shirt, lips keeping up their mind-blowing rhythm until you were both left panting, foreheads pressed together as your breaths turned to laughter between you.

“Screw what this town thinks,” you grinned, “I’m not letting you go after that.”

“Good,” he growled, smirk adorning his face as he darted in for another lingering kiss.

The trees you stood among had watched you both grow, watched you hurt, and now they finally saw you come together, painted by the setting sun in a clear sky.

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