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hockeywhy · 4 years ago

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

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

one.

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

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

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

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

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

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

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

You needed a plus one. Desperately.

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

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

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat.

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around.

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—”

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face.

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.”

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face.

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to.

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled.

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!”

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up.

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked.

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you.

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different: mostly, it was really just Matthew.

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due.

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.”

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues.

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine.

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh.

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?”

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?”

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.”

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.”

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.”

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.”

“Oh we’re just—”

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?”

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?”

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.”

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song.

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot.

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music.

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.”

“Baby, it’s torture.”

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster.

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?”

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.”

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.”

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?”

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that.

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.”

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.”

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?”

“Is it my jersey?”

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?”

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.”

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.”

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.”

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?”

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.”

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing.

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy.

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem.

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully.

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened.

“Here for vacation?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful.

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen.

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you.

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.”

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand.

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store.

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead.

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.”

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.”

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking.

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues.

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for.

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return.

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music.

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration.

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.”

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment.

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away.

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.”

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace.

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse.

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?”

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?”

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.”

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.”

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.”

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.”

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.”

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.”

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?”

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.”

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.”

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though.

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand.

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details.

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji.

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing?

You [emoji: middle finger]

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :)

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame.

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone.

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?”

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.”

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.”

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?”

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.”

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter.

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game.

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level.

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”.

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them.

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game.

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that.

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience.

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy.

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.”

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.”

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face.

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—”

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena.

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.”

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.”

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.”

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over.

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago.

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.”

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door.

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke.

“Who was?”

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.”

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine.

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly.

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.”

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.”

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you.

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable.

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party.

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.”

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?”

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation.

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush.

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?”

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.”

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle.

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.”

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters.

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly.

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.”

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.”

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence.

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes.

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.”

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away.

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away.

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said.

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter.

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you.

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind.

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork.

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall.

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.”

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.”

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?”

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.”

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup.

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing.

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room.

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned.

“Sure thing, definitely need it.”

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself.

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on.

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.”

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.”

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings.

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.”

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs.

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.”

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?”

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.”

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.”

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door.

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally.

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?”

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.”

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.”

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?”

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you.

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash.

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?”

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.”

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead.

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?”

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you.

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under.

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.”

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you.

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.”

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.”

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this.

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.”

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?”

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.”

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him.

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there.

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?”

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third.

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.”

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.”

“That’s…really not what I said.”

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.”

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #*

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13uswntimagines · 3 years ago

Text

It Can Be Both (Emily x Alex x Kelley x Reader)

Request: Kelley,Emily,Alex, and yn now like two on each team and yn is a goal keeper just watching confused wondering what the hell everyone is on and how it’s going to end later (You know)

Author’s Note: I’m going to be honest- this felt very much like a rebound after doing gravity. Like something to get my writing juices flowing again. it ends with a touch of sexual content so warning. hit me up if you have questions or just wanna chat.

You knew it was going to be a rough one before you even stepped on the pitch. Hell, you knew it was gonna be bad when Alex and Kelley started betting before national team camp had even started.

Though they were two of the most competitive people on the planet, you and Emily were not (off the pitch at least). But it was hard to stay out of it when their performance, chosen rewards, and/or punishments very much included the both of you.

You barely even got to admire how good either of your girlfriends looked in white (you made sure Alex knew your feelings about her in that galaxy kit) before things started to get wild.

“Come on ref!” You yelled, running a gloved hand frustratedly through your hair and shaking your head. Was Sonnett’s challenge hard, yes, but did it deserve a yellow? You didn’t think so.

You could guess that some of Emily's aggression came from the reward Kelley negotiated for them if the Spirit beat the Pride. At least Alex was laughing it off and standing.

“Looks like your girls are trying to murder each other,” Ali snorted, pausing just outside the box to protect against a counter if the corner kick in the other box went south.

“Vlatko’s probably shitting his pants,” You mumbled, wincing as Emily and Alex clashed again. God, Emily wanted to win.

“What’s gotten into them,” Ali asked, just as your two defenders collapsed the pocket Alex was trying to slip through.

You raised your eyebrow at the defender, your cheeks a little red (blatantly ignoring Kelley’s wink from across the field), “you really don’t want to know,”

Ali looked between you and the three women battling it out on the field, smirking a little. Even though she had seen it more times than she could count, it was still a little strange to see your tall frame look so flustered. “Ooo, so it’s one of those games?”

“I didn’t ask to be a part of it,” you huffed, crossing your arms indignantly.

“So there’s not something riding on you getting a clean sheet?” It was Ali’s turn to raise her eyebrows. More red-colored your cheeks, so much so you were sure it was all the way up to your ears by now.

It wasn’t a secret that it was a thing during the World Cup. One that you very much enjoyed, especially after you pulled off a PK save in the final to come out with a clean sheet.

You paused, biting your lip. “Not tonight,”

Ali laughed loudly as Alex set up for her another corner. “Ah, so it all depends on them then?”

You shrugged. Most of the time you really hated giving up control, but Alex also promised you would like what she picked (even if you weren’t planning on participating). You also trusted Emily and Kelley to stick to your limits, no matter how stoked they were on winning (if they won).

You sighed when Emily marked Alex just a touch too closely again. “More like Alex and Kel. Guess they got Em on board too,”

“Did you expect them not to?” Ali asked, her voice showing that she already knew the answer.

“No, just thought Emily would be on my side,” You grumbled, a gloved hand scratching the back of your neck.

“Well, I’m sure you won’t enjoy whatever they have planned at all,” Ali rolled her eyes and patted your shoulder, before heading off as the Spirit tried to counter.

“Shut up,” You huffed, backing up towards goal, your cheeks still very red. You still had 80is minutes to go before you would find out exactly what your girlfriends had planned.

*****

You had seen a lot of bad refs, but this one was something special. She was micromanaging the field, and you were starting to get tired of it.

“What the fuck,” You grumbled in between giving your defense direction.

It was one thing to yell at Kelley for being a little rough (even if it was with Alex), and another to argue with her about

“Surprised she hasn’t hit her yet,” Emily said, side-eyeing you.

“Be surprised I haven’t hit you yet,” You huffed, barely sparing your blond defender a glance. Fouling as much as she had wasn’t good form, and it wouldn’t help her case with Vlatko.

Plus you were too busy watching the refs try to corral your most stubborn girlfriend. Her irritation was palpable and you knew if the Ref kept pushing, Kelley was probably going to respond exactly how Emily thought she would.

“Ooo, kinky,” She laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “Just clean it up and chill out alright? We need to be able to play to make the team,”

She snorted, bumping you with her elbow. “Not a chance with what Al put on the line,”

“I don’t care what she bet. Cool it so we all walk out tonight,” You growled a little more firmly, taking on the tone you used when giving orders on the pitch. The voice that always made her and Kelley listen to you when they were giving you shit for being younger.

Instead of saluting like she normally would, a very large smirk broke across Emily’s face. “You have no idea what she chose do you?”

You froze, finally looking towards the defender and blinking owlishly at her.

So maybe you hadn’t considered that Alex would include you in the bet, and factor in your opinion on her chosen reward. You thought maybe you would just get to watch whatever they had decided and stay safe from whatever punishment if you lost.

Emily cackled as the ball sailed right past your state of stupor, running off to celebrate before you could even respond.

Despite being in a relationship with them for nearly 2 years, it still caught you off guard sometimes when they included you. It took you a very long time to open up and accept their love (and their physical touch), and even though you were comfortable now, it was still a weird experience to have them care. To have them always think of you when making plans (even ones you weren’t sure you wanted to be involved in).

You blinked again, shaking your head as though it would help you clear your thoughts. It didn’t, but a warm hand on your shoulder and an annoyed (but concerned voice) in your ear helped.

“Hey space cadet, you ok there?”

“Um, yeah,” You smiled tightly at Alex, allowing yourself to lean into her for just a second. It was hard to focus on the game with all the stuff running around your head.

“Good, cause the ref just called back the kick. Get ready to go again,” She said softly, brushing a fallen strand from your eyes. “and keep your eyes on the ball this time,” She smirked, tapping your nose.

You wrinkled it under her finger. She laughed a little. It was nice to see you so relaxed, even when you were surrounded by so many people. Maybe they would have to play these little games more often, you know if it could get you to let down your stoic exterior. “You can stare at Em later after we win. She’ll be in a much more… enjoyable position,” she wiggled her eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder.

“Eye eye captain,” You saluted, earning another laugh.

“You’ve been hanging out with Emily too much,” she said, with the roll of her eyes as she headed off to her position for the re-kick.

You wouldn’t let it slip past you again. Alex was right, you would be able to enjoy your girlfriends later.

*****

“That fucking goal should have counted and you know it,” Kelley grumbled as she slipped into the back seat with you.

“Well it didn’t,” you mumbled, scooting over as Emily hopped into the other side, effectively trapping you between them.

“You two cheated anyway,” Alex said from the front seat, glancing back at the three of you in the rear view mirror. You didn’t know it yet, but this was very much part of her plan.

“We did not,” Kelley snorted, shuffling even closer to you, so your thighs were pressed together, just as Emily did the same thing on your other side. You didn’t think much of it, both defenders were always rather cuddly after a game.

“So Em distracting y/n wasn’t part of the plan?” Alex asked, raising a signature eyebrow in the mirror (sharing a look with Kelley - one you didn’t see.)

“And neither of you were trying to remove Alex’s ankles from her body?” You added, wigging a little as Emily’s hand landed on your thigh, just a bit too high to be a friendly touch.

“We plead the fifth,” She said softly, very close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You sucked in a shallow breath when Kelley’s hand joined hers on your other thigh. Her lips touched your neck and worked their way up to your ear.

“But can I just say, your red cheeks made you look very cute tonight,” she purred, nibbling at the skin on your ear, just as Emily did the same on your other side.

The heat returned to your cheeks, and your hands clenched on your knees. You weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to do with them.

“I’m not cute,” You muttered, your fingers tapped uncomfortably on your legs. You didn’t like not being the one in control.

“Just sit back and enjoy it babe,” Emily hummed, her lips working from behind your ear all the way back down your neck to nibble on your collarbone. her hand also shifted to intertwine your fingers.

The small act helped you to relax a little, and you squeezed her fingers in thanks.

“Yeah, we’re gonna take very good care of you,” You could feel Kelley’s smirk just behind your ear as her fingers traced a little higher. You knew you could put a stop to this if you really wanted to, but you weren’t sure that you did.

You found Alex’s eyes in the mirror, flicking between the road and your face.

“Thought this was your reward, not mine,” You said, your voice coming out in little pants.

She smiled slyly at you. “Why can’t it be both?”

Kelley’s hand squeezed your thigh, just as Emily scraped her teeth along your shoulder. “Yeah?” Kelley asked into your ear.

“Yeah. It can be both,”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines

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shokobuns · 4 years ago

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“𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬”

your sugar daddy takes you to the beach.

PAIRING: sugar daddy!sukuna ryoumen x f!sugar baby!reader

GENRE: smut, some angst

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNING(S): 16+ smut, kind vanilla, unedited, uncharacteristic soft sex, beach sex, exhibitionism, implied dacryphilia, praise, overstim, unprotected sex, marking, creampie, unintended confession, angst if you squint

He keeps one hand on the while almost carelessly driving top down when he speeds down the highway. The sun shines down on the both of you, providing you with all the warmth you can ever ask for. Your hair blows in the wind and he takes small glances to admire you — the pretty girl who sits in the passenger seat. On the other hand, you don’t make an effort to hide your staring, observing how the top button of his shirt is down, revealing the tattoos on his chest, and how the smoke from the cigarette falls behind him.

There’s nothing but miles of desert that surround either side of the car, but it’s not like you would try to run away anyways. It’s been a year. You trust him. That trust includes him paying your rent in time, him giving you extra money for textbooks, him giving you a much needed vacation. And with time, you trust him to keep you safe — something that he has never failed to do once.

“You’re staring again, Princess.”

“Keep your eyes on the road, Ryo.”

He grins at the sound of you calling him by his first name, enjoying how it rolls off your tongue. Ryo. It’s a name often spoken with underlying tones of spite, but you say it in a way that’s so gentle, he can’t help but yearn to hear it once more. Though, you don’t notice his expression. Instead, you’re looking at the veins adorning his inked arms to his hands to his knuckles, licking your lips at the sight.

“Where are we going anyways?” You ask, resting your head against your arm, basking in the feeling of the sun warmly hitting your face.

“It’s a surprise, Princess,” he brings the cigarette up to his lips, “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy yourself.”

And so you do, your usual worries leaving you with every passing mile as you anticipate his next move. When the only thing left in his hand is a cigarette butt, his hand frees up, but you don’t quite realize it until his long fingers grip your thigh. He gives it a small squeeze, keeps his eyes on the road and blood rushes to your cheeks. “Pervert.” You mutter, faux disdain evident in your voice.

“What’s that, Sweetheart?” He asks mockingly.

“I said you’re a pervert,” you roll your eyes with a smile, “Do I have to repeat it again?”

“I guess you’re not getting your bonus this month.”

He’s bluffing, just like always and you giggle, bringing the hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, adoring kiss. For a moment, Sukuna is taken aback at the oddly intimate action, but you bring his hand back down to your inner thigh, placing a little higher than where it was before. He rubs small circles on the flesh and you go back to admiring the marked skin and strawberry blonde hair blowing in the wind.

Around 30 minutes later, a familiar sight of sand and waves come into view. Water crashes on the land, palm trees thrive, different groups of people are gathered together.

“A beach?” You ask excitedly, before your face is pulled into a frown, “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“I bought one for you, Princess,” he chuckles, “You think I’d come unprepared?”

“You brought me to the beach because you wanted to see me in a bikini, didn’t you?”

“That’s a plus,” he admits, “But remember when you said that you liked beaches, even if you were doing nothing, you just liked to sit around in the sun and think? Sand between your toes and shit? Thought you needed that right about now.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong.”

He brushes your hair behind your ear right after he finishes parking, kissing your forehead and giving you two flimsy pieces of fabric to slip on for the day. You find an area to change before coming out and he’s ready to walk out on the sand, a blanket in one hand. Spending time with him, being with him, it’s exactly what he paid you to do and you like to think you’re doing a good job. Either way, it wasn’t just a way to make ends meet anymore. At this point, it wasn’t just a simple transaction.

And for him? It wasn’t the temporary pleasure he had anticipated. It was enjoyable. And when you were gone? He longed for you in a way he hadn’t felt before.

It was calming to lay on his lap, his body slightly propped up by his palm while his hand rested on your cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin. Your body relaxes at his touch, hand coming to wrap around his wrist. He’s confused at first until you’re sitting up yourself, positioning yourself until you’re fully sat on his lap. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip before you lean in for a searing kiss.

This time, you’re initiating all of it, grinding against the imprint on his crotch, keeping your hands on his shoulder as he groans deeply. You’re far enough from the rest of the public, at least you think you are, but it doesn’t matter anymore because this time he lets you get on top, something that rarely happens. Every kiss on your bare neck to your shoulder is sluggish, almost lazy, and every grope on the fat of your hips and the plush of your ass is gentle, almost like you were made of porcelain.

Though, you don’t question it; you don’t see the point in doing that anyways because the material separating your slick cunt from his thigh is thin. Before you know it, his cock is out of his shorts, springing up to his stomach as he pulls on the string of your bikini bottoms, watching the material easily fall off your body. You align yourself onto him, sinking down and taking time to feel every inch of his throbbing length.

Every roll of your hips is languid, contrasting from the many times he usually takes control and abuses your body as he pleases, giving you a fat sum of money after. But somehow, the intimacy of right now was just as good, if not better, than past times. Your breaths mingle together and you forget that you’re on the beach at all, lost in your own euphoria as he pulls your body closer, sucking on the smooth skin of your neck. He never misses a chance to mark you.

His thumb quickly finds your bundle of nerves, massaging soft circles and your walls clamp around his fat cock, swallowing every inch as you ride him. Your back arches, a sign signifying that you’re close, but instead of thrusting upwards like usual, he guides your hips until your high comes to you in waves, causing your walls to flutter erratically. “So cute,” he coos, watching your mouth open as you come undone, “Such a pretty girl when you’re cumming around my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, Ryo,” you reply hazily, “Feels s’good, Ryo.”

“So needy,” he murmurs, “Doesn’t matter where we are, huh?”

You could only reply with a whimper because your mind is foggy, filled with dense clouds of lust and your knees hurt, but he hasn’t cum yet and you want to make him feel good so badly. He senses this, tightening the grip around your ass and biting down on your shoulder just to hear you whine again. He’s successful, the sound setting him off as he holds down your hips until his cock is buried in your warm pussy, shooting a streak of hot white cum into your womb.

One slight movement of your hips causes his length to twitch, stiffening once again. Sukuna can tell that you’re tired, and so he thrusts upwards, harshly driving into your ruined cunny while you muffle your sobs into his neck. He holds you close, inhaling your scent, as he impales you over and over again with his fat cock.

“So good for me, so fucking perfect,” he praises, getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulsating around him, “God, I fucking love you.”

The sound of waves crashing onto the shore layer over the lewd sounds as pure adrenaline pumps in your veins. You chant his name over and over again like a mantra, your creaming cunny sucking him until he’s milked dry. By the time the two of you leave the beach, you’re filled to the brim with his seed with sticky residue remaining on your thighs the whole ride back home.

That’s the last time you ever see him again.

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beatrice-otter · 6 months ago

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There's a lot about the practical/financial side of roads and cost and land use that most North Americans don't realize. We assume our way of building cities is the only possible way, and don't realize just how expensive it is compared to ... pretty much any other way of building cities. Here are some of the important parts:

How often you have to re-do a road depends mostly on the number of cars (and the weight of those cars) that drive on it. We talk about the freeze-thaw cycle being bad for roads, and it is, but the number one factor is how much car-and-truck traffic it gets.

Fixing/repaving an old road that has deteriorated because it has been used is just as expensive as building a new road from scratch. Sure, a lot of the work has already been done for you, but you have to tear up the old road surface, which takes a lot of time and labor and equipment. So when you put in that major freeway that costs an arm and a leg and people say "yeah, it's expensive, but then it's done and we'll have this great freeway!" they are not taking into account that you don't just have to pay that massive bill once, you're going to have to pay that massive bill again in 20-30 years.

If your city design is based on "everybody drives everywhere" then you are going to need places for those people to park. And that costs money. And you can't tax that land at the same rate as you can tax everything else. So if you compare two city blocks in the same city, and one block has a single large business (all shiny and new) with a large parking lot, and the other block has a row of 80-year-old buildings filled with small local shops, the brand-new commercial building with parking is going to bring in about 80% of the taxes that you get from the older style block of businesses without parking, but the services for the block cost the same to maintain. (Roads, water pipes, sewer pipes, power lines, etc.)

Car dependent suburbs lose money for the city once they're more than 20 years old. When they're first constructed, the city doesn't lay out a dime for the infrastructure, and the houses are shiny and new and fetch a high price (and thus have a high tax rate). 20 years later, those houses are no longer shiny and new so they're not generating as much in taxes, and also all that infrastructure now has to be maintained on the city's dime. And unlike a medium-density suburb (like the old-style streetcar suburb), there aren't that many houses per block. And nobody walks anywhere because there's nowhere to walk to, so every single thing you do outside of your house requires a car. So the roads need a lot of maintenance. Low density plus high maintenance costs means that any car-dependent suburb older than 20 years old costs the city more in services than it gives in taxes.

You put this all together, and it's a major contributing factor to why US and Canadian cities are so often teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. Not only is building everything around cars really bad for our social health and bad for the environment, it is literally the most expensive way anybody has ever designed cities. It's incredibly wasteful.

And right now is the perfect time to change that. Right now is when so many mid-century infrastructure projects are crumbling and need rebuilding. It's the perfect time to say "hey, wait a minute, how about we change our model so that cars are not the only viable method of transit."

I'm not saying take away cars! Lots of people need cars, and will always need cars, for a variety of reasons.

But if you have other viable methods of getting around so that people have choices, and you transition suburbia to medium-density instead of low-density and allow people to open shops and businesses there so you can go to a store close to you instead of driving for miles to get to a big box store, that will save so much money on road construction and maintenance that you can then spend on things like social services and libraries and schools and hospitals and museums instead of asphalt.

Imagine if half the country's infrastructure was built in a 30 year span and there was no plans to replace the aging infrastructure that is rapid approaching the end of its lifespan, wouldn't that be crazy

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djarinsbeskar · 4 years ago

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PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Voyeurism, Masturbation in shower, Sexting, Oral Sex, Dom/sub, Protected Sex, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Sophie sends Aaron a sexy video while he’s away on a case, Spencer watches it, and smut ensues. Collection: Part 1 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr because I was thinking about it today. 🤤 Link to A03 or read below! “I sprained my ankle. I’m not injured, not really. I can even walk on it,” Sophie assures as she pours them each a cup of coffee in the break room. She sets the carafe down, takes a step, wobbles, and Aaron catches her around the waist with a raised eyebrow of judgement. “Okay, so I can’t walk that well, but I can certainly sit in a conference room bouncing ideas around and drinking coffee. That’s all Rossi does, anyway.” He chuckles softly, knows she’s still… warming up, to Rossi and his idiosyncrasies.

“You know the rules.”

“Yeah, because we’re so good at following the rules,” she teases with a smirk, running her hands down his stomach, stopping at his belt. He looks over at the bullpen out of the corner of his eye, shoots her a warning look that makes her sigh and pull away.

“Think of it as choosing our battles,” he suggests, hoping that might get her back on track. “If you want to continue making out in my office, you have to stay here this one time.” She smiles, crooked, nods her head.

“Okay, when you put it that way, I’ll take the make outs.”

“I thought you might. Plus, you get to spend all day with Garcia. I figured that would be like a dream come true.”

“It is, definitely. It’s more the long, cold, nights that I’m worried about.” He sighs, because she’s being so dramatic, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of making him smile again. He can’t be looking as smitten and infatuated with her as he is all of the time. “I’m going to be so lonely.”

“Oh, I think you’ll manage without sex for a few nights,” he teases, and she looks scandalized, as if that wasn’t exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s not about sex, it’s about intimacy, comfort, sharing my bed with a big heavy man who scares away the bad dreams.” She grins lecherously and he prepares to roll his eyes. “And who has a dick that won't quit.”

“Like I said,” he enunciates, taking his travel mug of coffee for the road, “you’ll be fine for a few nights. If you do decide to touch yourself, though, make sure you send me a present,” he reminds her, because they aren’t separated often, but when they are, a couple of racy pictures or videos almost always exchange hands. He bends for a quick kiss on the lips, brushes her cheek. “I love you. Behave.”

“I love you,” she murmurs, all tenderness and no heat, now. “Be safe.” Two days after taking the case, the team is on the jet for a night flight home. Spencer is tired, but he can’t sleep; JJ is stretched out on the couch, Morgan and Emily are slumped over in their seats up front with pillows and headphones, and Rossi has been snoring softly since they took off, so it’s just him and Hotch awake. They are in seats next to each other, Spencer by the window, because he knew he would be a little restless, and that Hotch wouldn’t sleep, so it seemed like the safest bet if he didn't want to disturb anyone’s rest.

He also enjoys the comforting presence of the older man, always, but especially in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the flight home.

He tries to listen to music, a podcast, but he eventually pauses it and just rests his eyes, his head, listens to Hotch as he flips pages or taps away at his phone. He’s probably texting Sophie, who’s home with a sprained ankle and who hasn’t stopped grumbling about it since. He smiles at the thought, likes when she’s comfortable enough to complain to him. Likes being someone she turns to.

He sighs. Feelings are complicated. Sometimes he hates being part of such a tight-knit team because it makes the things he feels all the more confusing, especially when the two objects of his (totally manageable) affection are in a relationship together; he feels like the odd man out, as always, can’t deny that it hurts sometimes.

He’s drifting in and out of the not quite asleep stage when he hears sound coming from Hotch’s phone, shuffling, ambiguous noises. He lifts his eyelids just slightly to see a video up on the screen, a wall that looks vaguely familiar, like a bathroom, maybe. There’s nothing particularly intriguing about that, but then he sees a pair of smooth, bare legs standing inside a bathtub and his interest is… piqued.

There’s another sound, unmistakably a shower being turned on, and then the woman—it is Sophie, no doubt; even if he can’t see her face, the tattoo on her forearm is easily identifiable—squats down, and she is so gloriously naked that he just… freezes. His body and his mind are suspended in a conflicting state of this is wrong, I shouldn’t be seeing this, and this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, and why is Hotch watching this right now, with me right next to him, and hnnng.

She pulls the shower head into view, lets it pour over her hair from what he can see of it, then down her breasts, her stomach, arms and legs; after that, she adjusts it to a stream that is harder and more controlled than one would typically use in the shower. He wonders why, thinks it could be uncomfortable, until she moves it to hover over her pussy, moaning softly, and then he really, really gets it.

His heart is racing as she runs her hand over her body, thumbing at her nipples, sighing at her own touch. She rocks back and forth a little so the stream of water hits her clit, then lower, between her lips, against her opening, and Spencer swallows hard.

“Mmm,” she sighs, and the sound goes straight through him; he feels himself getting hard as she murmurs, pressing her hand against the rim of the tub for leverage. “Mmm, yeah.” He can see that Hotch is breathing heavily next to him, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s too dark in the cabin to see his lap, but he knows he must be aching in his pants, too, wonders what it would be like if he reached out and touched him there.

Sophie is incredibly gorgeous as she works to reach her climax, bouncing lightly on her heels as the pressure builds, her moans longer and louder, but it’s when she stops moving and presses the shower head closer, directly over her clit, that he knows she’s almost ready to come.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” she whines, pinching a nipple, arching her back, and her voice is high and breathy and addictive. He would give anything to be in the same room as those sounds, to pull her wet body close and help her get off. “Fuck, mmm,” she purrs, bringing the stream even closer, and she comes, short, loud moans that sound like they’re being ripped from her throat as her thighs shake, her chest heaves.

She drags a slow hand down her body, like she’s soothing herself, and then shudders, pulls the shower head away like maybe the pressure is too much where she’s sensitive. With a sigh, she reaches for the phone, tilts it so her face is in view, cheeks flushed and wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She turns up her lips in a coy smile. “See you soon.” The video ends.

It takes Hotch a moment to lock his phone, and he looks a little dazed when Spencer risks a glance up at his face—with good reason. If he was on the receiving end of videos like that, he would never be able to focus on anything.

The rest of the trip is quiet, certainly uneventful in comparison. Spencer makes a show of opening his eyes fully, stretching, thinks it would be too awkward now to admit he saw and heard every incredible second; Hotch looks over at him with an expression he can’t read, and then flips open a new case file.

When they land, he and Hotch are the last two to grab their bags, and Hotch brushes up against him in a way that feels purposeful, but is probably wishful thinking. “Do you have anything going on for the rest of the night?” he asks, and Spencer shakes his head.

“Nope, nothing.” Maybe masturbating—definitely masturbating—but he doesn’t need to know that. Hotch nods, thoughtful.

“You should come home with me.” Spencer looks at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both know that you saw the video,” he says in a low, no nonsense tone that makes him gulp. “I told Sophie, and she seemed… interested in the prospect. So you should come home with me. If you want to.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Hotch raises a hand, halting his train of thought.

“I may have had a suspicion that you were awake when I chose to play the video, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” Spencer looks at his face, trying to determine if he’s saying what he thinks he’s saying. He did that on purpose? He knew that Spencer was watching? “No pressure, if you don’t want to come over. I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I do want to… do… whatever it is we’re doing,” he rambles awkwardly, and Hotch chuckles.

“What we're doing is having sex. And I won’t touch you, or anything, if you don’t want that. It can be me and Sophie and you and Sophie.” Spencer swallows hard again, so turned on and breathless that it makes him feel bold.

“What if I do want you to touch me?” he asks, and Hotch leans in slowly, hot breath at his ear.

“Then I’m going to touch you.” When he pulls away, his fingers brush over Spencer’s jaw. “Do you want to come home with me?”

His answer is an emphatic yes. Aaron is due home any minute, and Sophie is vibrating with nervous energy, puttering around the apartment in her robe, couldn’t sit still if she tried. She waits for him on nights he has to work late and can’t bring it home, sure, but it’s almost never like this, where they are apart for days on end. It’s seriously affecting not only her sex drive, but also her mental state, which she hadn’t expected; she feels clingy, needy already, wants to smell him and touch him and taste him and be caged in by him, and it’s frankly getting a little out of hand.

It doesn’t help, she guesses, that she sent that video, but she was horny and wanted his attention… and boy, did she get it, had several texts come through a couple of minutes after she sent it, all very sweet and dirty and good.

Then she saw one about Reid, wanted to be mortified, but she just… wasn’t.

A: So, Reid saw me watching your present.

S: Oh, really? Did he like it?

A: Yeah, he liked it.

A: I bet he’d come pretty quick if he got to see the real thing.

A: Touch you… taste you.

God, how can this calm, controlled man make her such a whimpering mess with just a couple of texts? It’s unfair, is what it is.

S: Maybe we should invite him over sometime.

S: I’ve seen him looking at you, too.

S: Imagine how pretty he would look between us.

That was about an hour ago, and the only thing she received in reply was a brief message letting her know they’d landed and that he was on the way home. She hopes she didn’t upset him, knows that he’s mentioned being interested in men but that he’s never slept with one, hopes she didn’t hit a sore spot. She promises herself they will talk about it when he gets home.

But when he gets home, he kisses her so deeply she feels faint. Her body is lit up in an instant, suddenly desperate for more of him.

“I brought you a present,” he says, so low and sexy, and she grins, breathless, wraps her arms around his neck.

“Ooh, you know I love presents. What is it?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Spencer says, then, from the open doorway, and she glances between them, bites at her bottom lip. He steps inside and closes the door.

Fuck.

“Hey, Spencer,” she greets, but she can hear the tremble in her voice when she does. He looks to Aaron, and Aaron reaches back, wraps a hand around his wrist, guides him closer.

“I told him what you said, about how pretty he would look between us. He happened to agree, so I figured, why wait?” He looks her over intently, like he’s making sure she’s okay with this.

She is so okay with this.

She wants to speak but she’s so out of breath, her heart beating so fast, that she just pulls him down for a kiss, messy and graceless, and then she reaches for Spencer’s shirt and pulls him close as well, doing the same. She takes turns kissing them, ten kisses each, probably, until Aaron pushes her back gently with a soft laugh.

“Easy, baby. He’s going to stay the night; we have time to go slow.” Her chest is heaving, and he walks around so he’s standing behind her, unties the sash of her robe, pulls it off to reveal the lacy black bra and panties she thought would be a sexy surprise.

He kind of outdid her in the surprise department, but she’ll forgive him this once.

He runs his hands over her panties, her stomach, her boobs, and she bends her neck back, arching up for his lips, moaning against them. Spencer approaches, a bit hesitant, puts his hands on her hips and kisses her exposed throat, her chest. She feels like she’s died and gone to heaven, two pairs of hands on her, two mouths, her body pressed between them tightly. She thinks offhand that she’s glad her ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, because she could stand between them all night long, if they keep this up, would be content to never move again.

Then one of Spencer’s beautiful, incredible hands slips down the front of her panties, and they stop kissing her to kiss each other, and she whimpers, and her knees give out anyway.

“So dramatic,” Aaron whispers teasingly in her ear as he holds her up, big hands on her body, and she shakes her head, wets her lips.

“Not being dramatic. This is so fucking sexy.” Spencer—apparently not worried about the fact that she almost collapsed on them because Aaron wasn’t—slides two fingers over the slippery wet lips of her pussy, and she groans. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take all the attention,” she murmurs, moving her hips against his hand. “Kiss some more, please.” Spencer huffs a laugh and leans in, catches Aaron’s lips with his. From her point of view she can see the slide of their tongues, lips pressing together, and she groans again.

“If it’s okay with you,” Spencer says to her when they separate, “I would really like to eat your pussy now.” He kisses her softly on the cheek, and she exhales, shaky.

“Yeah, please—please do that.”

“I’ll hold you,” Aaron whispers, lips at her ear. “I’ll be right here, I promise.” She hums, leans back against him, and Spencer drops to his knees, guides her panties down. She’s so wet there’s slick on the insides of her thighs, and when he lifts one leg to hook her knee around his shoulder, he licks it away. She shudders.

She feels like she should have known how hot and skillful his mouth would be, because he talks so fast sometimes that his brain—his incredibly high-functioning brain—can’t even keep up, and she usually finds his mouth cute, but right now she finds it sexy, will probably never be able to look at it without thinking of the way he feels with his tongue in her pussy.

He is very enthusiastic, licking her quick and deep, with one hand on her waist and the other rubbing her clit like he’s got a PhD in bringing girls to orgasm, and she knows she’s moaning like a slut, gets even louder when Aaron bites at her earlobe, kisses her neck, squeezes her breasts. “Fuck, oh fuck, yeah,” she pants, reaches a hand down to wrap it in Spencer’s hair, making him groan; she rocks against his delicious mouth, which he encourages, moving his hand to her ass and guiding her closer.

“Come for him, baby,” Aaron urges, hand inside the cup of her bra to pinch her nipple. “Isn’t he pretty, down on his knees for you?” She drops her head back against him, brings a hand to his hair, too.

“So pretty.” He stoops down to kiss her as best as he can, and Spencer’s looking up at them, gorgeous, and she comes tugging on both of them, panting into Aaron’s mouth.

When Spencer stands up and kisses her, mouth soft and wet after working her through her orgasm, and then Aaron leans in to taste both of them on her lips? It’s a wonder she doesn’t get weak in the knees again. Sophie is soft and pliant after she comes, clinging onto them, and Aaron lifts her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Spencer following closely behind. He sets her on the bed, unhooks her bra and pulls it off; Spencer watches closely as he does, kneels down to kiss her, brush his hands over her bare breasts, and she sighs at the treatment.

“What do you want to do?” Aaron asks them, getting down on his knees as well, and he kisses them, thrills at the similarities in their soft lips, soft skin.

“I wanna suck you both,” she says, and he touches her face gently.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? You look a little fuzzy.” He didn’t think that she would get submissive so quickly, since he hadn’t actually dominated her, but can see how feeling at the mercy of two men might make her go to that place; he just wants to make sure he does what’s best for her while she’s there.

“Might not be able to get you off, but I want them in my mouth. Can I?” She looks up at him, then at Spencer, who swallows visibly. Aaron gave him a little insight on the way there about how they normally interact with each other, how she likes to ask for permission and he likes to give it—or deny it, depending.

(Aaron Hotchner’s crash course on having a submissive girlfriend—he might have to find a way to monetize that, somehow.)

“You can, for a couple minutes. Then what do you want?” He looks to Spencer to see if he has anything in mind.

“I don’t—I’ve never done this,” he says quietly, and he and Sophie both touch him, and she nuzzles against his shoulder.

“Neither have we, it’s okay. You want to, though?” He looks at them with soft, open eyes, and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, I want to.” Aaron takes his face in his hands, kisses him deeply.

“Okay, good. Sophie,” he says softly, touches her face too, “do you think you would be alright being with both of us at the same time?” She licks her lips and frowns a little like she’s confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could lay you down, and one of us could be inside your pussy, and one of us could be inside your mouth. I’ll take your mouth,” he decides quickly, because she doesn’t like it too fast or rough and he knows her limits, doesn’t want to hurt or overwhelm her. “You’ll be full of us, baby. Do you think you want that?” She closes her eyes, nods, and Spencer touches her throat with long, gentle fingers.

“You’d give us that?” he asks like he’s in awe, and Aaron gets it, knows how much it means that she trusts them with something like this. “You’re incredible, Sophie,” he murmurs against her lips, and she sighs, pulls him closer.

Watching them make out is a very enjoyable thing, made all the more so when he decides to come up behind Spencer to unbutton his pants, untuck his shirt. The younger man moans at the feel of his hands helping him undress, and he presses back against Aaron’s chest, panting and eager. He guides him to stand, gets him naked, and wraps a hand around his long, hard cock, stroking it a couple times.

“You want her mouth on you while I get undressed?” he asks, and Spencer bucks up into his hand, nods quickly. Sophie reaches for him, pulling him closer, and she licks at the head, moans. “Gently,” he murmurs in Spencer’s ear, “let her be in control.” He nods seriously, presses a hand to Sophie’s cheek when she takes him in.

Between the two of them, their moans are so filthy, wanton, that he craves the heat of their mouths, so he captures Spencer’s in a kiss when he can, pulling off his clothes slowly so they can enjoy the time together. “Sophie,” Spencer murmurs, and she looks up at him, and Aaron’s arms around him, and whines. She pulls off of him, licks her lips looking hungry.

“I’m ready for you guys.” The simple sentence makes his dick throb, and he lays her back on the bed, kisses her soft and sweet and slow. Spencer curls around them, kisses them and rubs his hands over their bare skin.

“Spencer, can you get in that drawer and take out a condom?” he has presence of mind to ask, glad that the ones they have should fit him, and he stretches up, all long, lithe muscles, grabs one and tears the wrapper open, rolling it on. Neither Aaron nor Sophie can take their eyes off of him, and when he’s finished, Aaron moves out of his way so he can settle between her legs. She hitches up her knees, and he knows first hand how inviting that can be, understands completely when he shivers with pleasure.

Aaron kisses Sophie a few more times, whispers sweet, loving words into her ear, and then he crawls up by her head, the tip of his dick at the same level as her mouth.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, running his hands over her breasts, and she nods, puts her hands on Spencer’s hips and pulls him closer until he is fully sheathed inside her; he keeps still, panting, and Aaron leads forward to brush his hair back. “You’re so gorgeous, Spencer,” he coos, and then he presses into Sophie's mouth, sighs.

She takes him in hand, guiding him in and out at a pace she’s comfortable with, so he just lets her take the lead and runs his hands over her body, Spencer’s fingers where they press against her thighs. He is pumping into her deeply now, an easy rhythm Sophie matches with her hand, and the room is filled with a symphony of soft, wet sounds and moans and hums that Aaron doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

He is wholly unsurprised when he is the first to come, because watching Spencer’s hips move against her, his hands careful where he holds her down, and feeling her moan around his cock because she loves feeling full, it’s all too much for him. He spills with a groan, and Spencer watches his face like it’s art, which makes him feel warm in his chest. Something to explore at a later time.

Sophie lets go of him, panting, and he slides down to his belly so he can kiss her mouth, caress her. He looks up at Spencer, who appears to be trying so hard not to come, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he rubs Sophie’s clit to help get her close, so he’ll stop trying so hard and just let himself feel good.

“Oh, god,” Sophie whines, brings her hands up to squeeze hard at her breasts. “This is good, so good, mmm.” She starts bucking hard against him, her neck stretched long, and he knows the instant she comes, her mouth opening in a wordless moan before she all but howls her pleasure. Spencer groans, shifts his legs a little so he’s hovering over the both of them, and he thrusts for a few more seconds before finding his own orgasm. “Hmm, yes,” Sophie sighs, and he kisses her slowly, passionately; Aaron rubs both of their bodies as they shiver with aftershocks, and they all sink into the mattress, deeply spent.

They cuddle together for a few minutes, until Sophie complains she has to pee, and she and Spencer go into the bathroom together to take care of business. Aaron runs a hand through his hair and exhales long, because this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen, while also being one of the most unforgettable nights of his life; he knows they’ll look to him for guidance about what to do next, and he’s really not sure what to say when they do.

When they amble back into the room, they’re both smiling softly, and Aaron smiles because he can’t help it. They climb back onto the bed, Spencer in the middle, though Sophie reaches across him to rub at the hair on Aaron’s chest.

“So that’s a thing that happened,” Sophie says eventually, propped up on her elbow, looking over at their two blissed out faces with nothing short of affection. “Is it a thing that’s going to happen again, or a thing we swear up and down didn’t happen?—No pressure, only asking so I know how to compartmentalize my many, many thoughts.”

Aaron looks to Spencer and can’t help but feel like there’s something more worth exploring, there. He thinks Spencer feels the same when he pulls him in for a tender kiss.

“I think it should happen again,” Spencer murmurs, and Sophie leans down to kiss him too.

“Yeah, it should happen again.” Aaron sits up, smiles at his girl, guides her mouth to his.

“Okay, then.” They kiss again, easy, sweet, and he breathes a laugh. “We owe you for this, you know: you and your little shower performance.”

“Oscar worthy,” Spencer says with a grin, and Sophie shoves him playfully.

“Hey, a girl has needs.”

“And we’ll help you meet them,” Aaron promises, running a hand suggestively along her body, and she covers it with hers.

“No way. I’m tapped out, buddy. Unless I get sleep or pizza, no more sex from me tonight.” Aaron feigns hurt, pulls away, flops onto his back with an exaggerated sigh, and she crawls past Spencer to straddle his waist. “So dramatic,” she teases, leans down for a kiss, then climbs off the bed altogether. “I’m good with pizza—I don’t want to go to sleep just yet, not when I’ve got two pretty boys in my bed.”

“I second pizza,” Spencer murmurs, his face pressed against Aaron’s bicep. Sophie pauses in the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you think they’ll do a third veggie, and a third pepperoni, and a third Hawaiian? Or am I gonna have to order two pizzas?” She comes back over to the bed, kisses them both soft, affectionate, and smiles. “Always complicating things, Spencer Reid.”

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quokkacore · 4 years ago

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can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!"

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston.

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on.

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73.

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day.

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were.

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial.

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours.

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy.

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily.

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning.

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him.

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface."

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey."

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you."

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak.

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you.

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone.

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?"

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?"

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does."

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did.

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage."

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees."

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?"

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight.

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time.

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss.

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid.

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did.

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless.

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until…��

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground.

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap.

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said.

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen.

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out.

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him.

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin.

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy.

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin.

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?"

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted."

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit.

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still.

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder.

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered.

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now.

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside."

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours.

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours.

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch.

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod.

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head.

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.”

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?"

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!"

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!"

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before.

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded.

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!"

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer.

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath.

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds.

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl."

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast.

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis.

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie."

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach.

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore."

#kwritersworldnet #nct smut #doyoung x reader #jungwoo x reader #doyoung smut #jungwoo smut #kpop smut #kpop au #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #my writing

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Bloods - Part 1

Next // Masterlist

Pairing: David x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I just finally felt like finishing it up! I've had this idea for awhile, and David just feels like the perfect guy to pair with a character like this; plus I like getting to explore his more playful side, which I usually just have to reserve for Paul or Marko when I’m writing all four of them at once! (Not that I don't love writing the poly stuff of course! But sometimes it's just nice to get to focus on one of the boys! 🥺)

You keep your chin held high and try not to stare as you walk through the boardwalk packed tight with people. You glance between the surfers walking around with no shirts or shoes, and the punks with spiky hair and multiple piercings and tattoos. It was all so overwhelming--so different from what you were used to.

You adjust the ruffle on the collar of your blouse, smoothing out any wrinkles as you make sure it was tucked in properly to the waistband of your pleated skirt. You were always taught that a proper appearance was just as important as one's manners--sometimes more so. The first impression someone ever got of you was what they saw; you couldn't have them thinking you were a slob because your shirt was untucked, or you had a stain on your collar. That's what your parents had always taught you, and they knew better than anyone--they had written the book on etiquette.

No really, they had; back in--what year was it again? You couldn't recall.

Your parents were vampires; old ones. They were some of the first, from the 'old country.' They'd first settled in New England when it was founded and made quite a name for themselves as one of the original ‘old money’ families, buying up heaps of land and building a huge mansion where no one would bother them, but close enough to civilization they could still hunt. Eventually, they had to disappear to Europe for a generation or so--just long enough for everyone who knew them to die off--then they came back as their own 'descendants' and the cycle would start all over again.

You were a relatively new addition to the family. After so many years with just the two of them, your parents had decided they wanted a child. So, after much discussion, they settled on you. They 'acquired' you from your birth parents as a baby, and the three of you had been together ever since. They had raised you as their own, with the intention of one day turning you into vampire like them.

You loved your parents, and they loved you--in their own way--but they were strict. You were raised with a lot of rules and expectations. You grew up learning etiquette: proper tables manners, how to properly greet guests at dinner parties, how to dress, how to act in public. Your entire childhood was crammed with lessons for how to behave. You were a debutant, you were an equestrian, you knew how to speak French, German--and of course Romanian--there was truly no stone left unturned.

So when you turned 18, your parents agreed to give you whatever you wanted for your birthday. They had likely expected you would ask for something frivolous; a car, or a piece of jewelry. Instead, you asked for them to go with you on a family road trip. You'd never left the quiet, costal New England countryside you grew up in, and you'd spent your whole life with your parents as your teachers. You wanted to see more of the country, and you wanted to get to know your parents better; a road trip seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone.

You'd had an amazing trip; seen so much. You had hoped to grow closer throughout the trip, but even though it hadn’t gone quite to plan you were still glad this was what you had chosen to do for your birthday--if for the experience than nothing else.

But now you were at the end of the line; the last stop before you turned back around and headed for home: Santa Carla. Your parents had an old friend from Romania here they wanted to visit--some guy named Max. You were excited to meet another vampire, never having seen any others aside from your parents before. It was too dangerous to meet other vampires under normal circumstances, but this man was a friend; he had know your parents for hundreds of years. You could trust him.

---

You look for the sign for the video store, not sure exactly where you were. You thought you were on the right street, maybe it was just a little further down, oh, being tardy is so rude...

"Lost, kitten?" You hear someone say behind you. Your head snaps around. You see a pair of icy blue eyes staring back at you.

"Excuse me?" You ask, scowling back at the punk that was now giving you a once over. You were sure you must have misheard him; surely he didn't just call you--

"I asked if you were lost; you're clearly not from around here, kitten. Maybe I can help you out--point you in the right direction." He says, smirking over at you.

Oh, so he did just call you that. You turn up your nose at him as you turn away.

"No, I'm fine thank you." You say tartly as you start to walk away.

"Oh really? You sure about that?" The bleach blonde cocks an eyebrow at you as he stares at your back, the smile never leaving his face. “It can be pretty easy to get turned around if you don’t know where you’re going.” You stop. You look around the street, not sure where you were exactly or how close you were to where you were going. You look down at the small gold watch on your wrist and scowl. You did hate being late.

“Of course, I know where I’m going.” You reply curtly, before sighing. Your shoulders slumped as you slowly turned back around. “I just don’t know...exactly how to get there.” You admit with no small amount of reluctance. You see the corner of his mouth tug up in a satisfied smirk, and you clench your fists tightly to keep from outwardly showing your increasing frustration with the boy.

“The name’s David.” He introduces himself with that same smug smile still spread across his face.

“I don’t recall asking.” You reply with a sour tone, instantly kicking yourself for speaking before thinking. If your parents had been around to see your lack of manners, even to a punk like this--you shudder at the thought. “I mean--sorry. It’s nice to meet you David, my name is y/n.” You correct yourself, though you clearly didn’t mean it.

“You know you’re pretty uptight--you should learn to unwind.” He said, clearly amused.

“I am not-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath as you smile and try to rein yourself in. He’s not worth it y/n; you just need him to give you directions. He’s not worth it.

“You seem tense kitten.” David placed a gloved finger under your chin. “I could help you with that--you know, help you relieve some of that tension.” You made a disgusted noise as you pull your chin away, scowling at him.

“No thank you.” You reply bluntly. “Now, about those directions?” David looks back at you and laughs.

“So you turn me down and now you’re trying to run away, huh?” He jokes. “I guess I can let it go--since I did already offer to help you out.”

“How gracious of you.” Your sarcastic reply earned you another laugh from the boy.

“So where you headed?” He asks. Oh right, you would need to tell him that. You had your reservations about telling a strange punk who had already hit on you once where you were going; but you supposed if he ended up being an actual creep and tried anything, your parent could just kill him for you.

“Max’s Video Store.” You answer. “You know it?”

“I’ve heard of it.” David gives you a knowing smirk. “I can get you there, anyway.” And with that he starts walking.

“Hey! Wait a second!” You shout, trailing after him. “I thought you said you were going to give me directions?” You ask, clearly annoyed at the sudden turn of events.

“What good are directions gonna do when you clearly don’t know your way around? It’s easier if I just show you.”

“But,” You struggle to think of anything to get yourself out of this situation. “Don’t you have something better to do? Why waste your time showing some random stranger around?”

“Guess I’m just a nice guy.” He replied, smirking over at you as you fell into step beside him. Without thinking, you made a noise to show your obvious skepticism, and he raised an eyebrow at you. Crap--there you go being rude again. You were getting too comfortable being around this guy. “So, why the video store? You lose your copy of Valley Girl or something?”

“You know, you shouldn’t assume you know everything about me just by looking at how I dress.” You pointed out. Even if you did love that movie.

“Hhm, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, trying not to smile.

“And if you really want to know, I’m meeting my parents there.”

“Your parents?” He asks, looking over at you as you turned a corner.

“Yes. We split up earlier, but I told them I would meet back up with them at the video store this evening.” You explained. He was eyeing you with renewed interest.

“Why the video store?” David asks. “Seems like a weird place to meet up if you’ve never been there before.” You look over at him. You didn’t really see any harm in telling him the truth--minus the vampire part of course.

“The owner is an old friend of my parents--we’ve been on this road trip, so they wanted to stop by sense it’s been awhile since they’ve seen him.” David stops, looking over at you with wide eyes. The look of surprise on his face only lasts a few seconds as he sizes you up, before he bursts out into a fit of laughter. You stand there, confused, as he nearly doubles over laughing. You scowl, looking over at him. “What? What is so funny?”

“Your parents?” He asks, pointing at you for emphasis. “Your parents are old friends with Max? You?” Your scowl deepens.

“Yes?” You answer, and he starts laughing again. “WHAT?”

“Oh nothing, kitten.” He replies, wiping a tear from his eye. “Let’s go--wouldn’t want to keep your parents waiting.” He says, still chuckling lightly to himself.

You’re in a sour mood as you follow David the rest of the way to the video store. In opposition to you, David seems to be high spirits; whatever information he had found so funny had put him in a great mood, and he seemed eager to get to the store. You were just as eager to arrive, if only to be rid of the boy. You spot the sign for the store and sigh in relief.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You say cheerfully, not even trying to hide your glee. “Thank you for your help.”

“You know, I think I want to rent a video.” David said with a smirk as he continued toward the store. You groan. Of course he wasn’t just going to leave.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” You ask, exasperated. He shrugged as he continued to walk toward the store.

“I told you kitten--I’m just going to look at some videos.” He replies. You sigh, and trudge in after him.

When the two of you walk into the store, you see your parents talking to a tall man with glasses who you assume must be Max. There’s a group of punks hanging out in the corner watching one of the TVs, but you didn’t get a good look at them before David starts talking.

“Hey Max, I found something I think belongs to your friends there.” David says with a smirk as he gestures to you with his thumb. The three adults look up at the two of you, and you see looks of relief wash across your parents faces.

“There you are y/n; we were starting to worry.” You father says as the three of them walk up to the two of you.

“Yes, it’s not like you to be late.” Your mother says, looking you over.

“Sorry father, mother; I got lost.” You apologize, looking down at the ground.

“It’s alright, this time--just don’t let it happen again. Remember what Shakespeare said: Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.” Your father said. That scene is about revenge...and adultery. You nod.

“Yes sir, thank you.” You reply. David raises an eyebrow at you. Your parents look over at him.

“Is this another one of yours, Max?” Your mother asks, eyeing him scrupulously. Your head snaps over to look at David.

“Ah, yes! This is David.” Max says, and your jaw drops. What? Did that mean what you thought it meant? Your mother made a judgmental noise in the back of her throat.

“Well, I suppose we should thank you for helping y/n find her way.” She replied, a thin smile on her lovely face. You looked between your mother and David. You weren't particularly fond of the boy, but you wished your mother wouldn’t be so rude to him, he had helped you out--though thinking back you had probably been just as bad.

“No problem.” David said politely. You admit, you were surprised. You had expected him to give her some snarky reply; you were impressed with his restraint. He began walking towards the other three punks that had been watching the exchange from the sidelines, shooting you a quick glance as he past.

You watched him as he joined the other boys--he certainly fit right in. There was a tall boy with long, dark hair, that was walking around in a jacket and no shirt underneath. A pretty boy with long, blown-out blonde hair that dressed like a glam rocker, and another blonde with curly hair and a patchwork jacket with chaps over his jeans. Then there was David himself: bleach blonde spikey hair, a leather jacket and gloves, dressed in all black. Overall the group screamed trouble, and under normal circumstances you would have avoided them like the plague, but if they were Max’s--what, sons?--then you should probably give them a chance.

“Y/n.” You mother called you.

“Yes ma’am!” You jump as you turn your attention back to your parents.

“I feel bad for having you meet us here only to leave you again, but we need to...eat.” You father says, glancing at the young girl working the counter as he suddenly thought better of using the word ‘feed.’

“Oh, no I understand; it’s alright.” You reply.

“You have our credit card for food and a hotel.” Your mother says, making her way towards the door. “We’ll see you back here tomorrow--don’t be late this time dear.”

“Yes ma’am.” You answer. Your father and Max followed her out the door and just like that your plans for the night were suddenly shot.

Great, now what am I supposed to do?

You look over at the group of punks who were staring at you from across the store; the bleach blonde in the front crossed his arms as he gave you a wide smirk. You sighed.

Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #david the lost boys #david the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years ago

Text

Whatever Words Exist

StudentTeacher!Cal x Reader (Gender Neutral). Like mostly fluff.

Reader and Calum have only met briefly. But when the connection is this magnetic, you don’t press fate.

Masterlist (semi-hiatus)

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Calum readjusts the strap on his backpack, getting the bag hitched back right on his shoulder. Just up the hill he can see a gathering of people, a general human mass but still too far away for him to make out any one person in particular. He knows he’s in the right place for sure. So he continues on and a few folks wave as he approaches. Derrick, former officemate, spots Calum first and waves him closer.

“Meet Calum--old officemate of mine,” Derrick tells the group surrounding him. First years, Calum assumes and gives them a tiny smile and wave to the group.

“Yeah, because this jerk decided to apply for a full time instructor position. And then got upgraded,” Calum laughs.

“Look, gotta pay the bills how I can,” Derrick returns and then goes around the semi circle introducing everyone.

Calum looks at each one in return and then his gaze lands on yours. As a first year to the program and student teaching, you ran into Calum during the intense two week training. Well, you two didn’t really run into each other. Calum ran a few sessions during the training and you might have purposefully lingered behind on the free range Q&A that he was a part of with a few other experienced student teachers. He seemed to be calm and level headed about all the teaching and you were quite the opposite, so listening to him answer questions gave you a small amount of peace.

The second reason you lingered until everyone else was gone and asked their questions is because you thought he was attractive. The baggy t-shirt but nice fitting jeans and the way he titled in when he was listening to someone. He seemed to really care and take his time to answer any questions--even when he had other things he needed to attend to as well. “Hey,” he says as his smile brightens around your name.

“Hi Calum,” you return. “Slumming it with us first years.”

“I would never call it slumming, not in the slightest,” he laughs in return. The conversation steers away from that, talking about the summer and general shared interests. But every so often you and Calum lock eyes, gazes lingering for way longer than you’d like to admit. Mostly because you don’t want to be this into someone so early into the semester. And truth be told, the semester hadn’t even truly started.

About ten minutes pass before professors start to approach, a couple of them holding boxes of pizza. And while you definitely weren’t sure how to juggle all the responsibilities of teaching, classes, paying rent on time, you were grateful for the lunch of pizza. It also meant that you’d be taking some home if enough people didn’t go in for seconds. And getting a free meal plus an easy dinner was always worth it.

As the pizzas are lined up, you linger back, not wanting to be the first person to get food, but close enough to the first brave souls. “So, have you done any exploring around town?” Calum asks from behind you.

You spin to half face him to talk to him. “Not a lot. By the time we get done with training I’m too tired to do anything else. But I need to get my bike looked at, so I probably should get downtown at the very least.”

“What’s up with your bike? You said it was your main mode of transportation.”

“Just double checking tire pressure--nothing major. One of them feels like it’s not as high as the other. But rather be safe than sorry since the semester starts.”

Calum nods and shuffles up as the line moves. “If you need a ride to the shop, I have my car.”

You’re not sure if Calum’s offering just to be nice or if it means more. So you default to telling him he doesn’t have to, but he insists. And even as you’re grabbing a slice of pizza and Calum’s right behind you, you try to tell him that he shouldn’t completely disturb his whole day just for you.

“I cannot have you blowing a tire on the side of the road. Do you have your bike with you today? We could go after this.”

If there were any way to die right in this moment, you’re wishing for it. “I do,” you answer cautiously, walking towards the metal picnic tables. “But really, I can do by myself. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, c’mon, this town’s not necessarily the nicest to cyclists and if you got stranded I’d feel like an ass.” Calum settles across from you on the bench, slipping his backpack off his shoulder. You do the same, setting your backpack next you and pulling your water bottle from the side pocket.

“I don’t know what your plans are. I don’t want to intrude,” you counter, unscrewing the top to your water bottle to take a sip.

“My plans were to sit in my office and pretend like I was lesson planning.”

“Where’s your office again?”

Calum rattles off the name of the building, before taking his first bite of pizza. And you swear for a moment the universe is fucking with you. It has it out for you. “I’m in the same building,” you state.

“I’m in room 138.”

Oh, how cruel is the universe. How fucking cruel could it be. “Same,” you state after finishing your bite of pizza. “Haven’t been inside to see it yet though.”

“Oh, it sounds like I’m your personal tour guide today.” And it’s not that he’s being adamant about it. Because you know if you were in the reverse positions, you’d do something similar. But a glint crosses his eyes, his smile is a slight curl of his lips and he’s looking up at you from underneath his lashes.

Your stomach flutters, and suddenly pizza looks and feels like lead, but you take another bite to do something other than let panic settle. A quiet settles between the two of you as you eat. Though more people are turning up and settling in around you to make up for the silence. A few more minutes pass, even with you tossing away your plate and saying hi to some other people who are also teaching for the first time this year before you hear the professors calling for the group’s attention.

As the group quiets down, you return back to the spot where your bag is and Calum’s still there, laughing at something Derrick is saying. You catch his gaze and you really only think that you should look away. But you do. He’s too fucking handsome not to keep your gaze lingering for a moment longer. The humorous smile changes, becomes more subtle as the two of you continue to gaze at each other.

You can feel your cheeks getting hot but slowly feel your own smile over taking your face before you cast your gaze down and then flick it back up to who’s speaking. It’s good information to get, as you listen to each professor in turn talk about the program more. You get a good sense of who each person is, and it’s not too much longer before each of the new and old cohort introduces themself.

It’s a natural break as everyone starts to talk again with the business now out of the way. You mingle with some of the instructors but gravitate towards the snacks that are available. Just as you get a good grasp on one of the oreos, your name is called out. You spin, making sure to keep the Oreos in a tight hold. Calum waves you over to the group he’s in and you walk over. You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re playing with fire. But you do so anyway and he introduces you to some other people in the same year as him. They weren’t at the student teacher training.

You’re thankful for the introduction but slowly the conversation drifts to the group joking about something that you seem to be missing and you know almost without thinking that Calum’s going to seize this opportunity. You turn to him first. “I like the vibe of this program,” you start.

He smiles. “I’m glad. It’s all pretty tight knit.” You nod, agreeing with this point, but also not sure if you’re reading the air between you and him correctly either. “Do you wanna duck out now?” he asks quietly. “Get that bike fixed up for the first day of classes.”

“Ye-yeah, that’s cool.”

He nods over to where your belongings are with a smile. And the two of you gather your things. As you lead Calum over to where you locked up your bike you pause. “Wait,” you start, “do you even have a place to strap a bike down?”

“My friends and I bike the trails a lot during the year. My SUV can handle it, I promise,” he returns with a laugh. The two of you walk side by side down the parking lot. “Where do you call home?” he asks.

You rattle off the answer and in return ask him the same. “Well home home is Australia. But I came to the states with some mates and we’ve sort of always called California a second home.”

“You beat me the longest distance from home,” you laugh.

“Well, only on a technicality.”

“So like your mom, dad, and siblings--if you have any--are like clear across the world?”

“Mum and Dad are. Sister’s in London.”

“Is she studying too?”

“Singer--she’s over there doing that.”

You hum. “Is singing a family trait?”

Calum laughs and you watch some lights blink from a car and you spy the keys in his hand. “I wouldn’t call it a family trait. But yeah, we all sing. In our own ways. Originally made some moves for music. Career paths changed just a tiny bit.”

“So you and the friends you moved with were in a band?”

“Of sorts. Went well for a while. Then we just needed rest.”

“So your idea of rest is going to school and teaching?” You laugh. Calum opens the trunk first for your bags. And when he closes it, you finally spot the rack to set your bike on.

“Like I said, career paths took a turn. Rest or new experience--I’ve yet to decide on the name yet.”

With the bike settled and secure, you walk around to the passenger side door. Calum’s quick to turn the air on in the car once he’s inside. His radio starts up immediately and he scrambles to turn it down. “Sorry, don’t wanna blast you out of the car,” he states.

“No, no worries.”

“Any requests? You can plug your phone in too, if you want.”

“Oh God, I take over the aux and you’re going to get some anime theme song and I’d rather save myself the embarrassment.”

Calum’s chuckle is quick and clear of the click of the seatbelts. He switches over the radio and hands you the white cord. “Now you have to embarrass yourself.”

“That’s what I get for opening my big mouth.” Plugging the cord in, you shuffle for a decent opening song as the truck starts backwards out of the parking spot.

“So what about you? How did the universe drop you here?”

“Pure determination and spite,” you laugh as the song starts over the speakers. “I finished my undergrad, worked for a couple years and then promptly said this is not what I want to do forever and started looking to go back to school.”

“Pure determination and spite,” Calum repeats. He keeps his attention heavily on the road as he’s driving out of the park and through the neighborhoods. But once he hits a stretch of main road he can glance over to you. And you’re staring out of the front windshield, head slightly tilted. “You look lost in thought?”

“Just admiring the view.”

And Calum hums, a sound of agreement, but the view he’s enjoying isn’t the sight of campus and the surrounding area. The two of you continue on, weaving around some traffic and soon you’re turning down a side street. One that reminds you almost of home. And maybe that’s just the universality of it all. Almost anything could be home if you wanted it to be, because there was always going to be a piece of a place that you could connect too.

“The guys here are nice and really quick about anything that’s a simple fix,” Calum offers. “Also, your music isn’t that bad.”

Your jaw drops just a little and a small squawk of indignation falls from your lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, jumping out of the car. Calum’s already at the back, pulling your bike from the secure rack.

“It means that having an anime theme song play would’ve made it ten times better.”

You huff, but follow behind him into the shop. The two of you greeted almost immediately and when the guy working on the floor spies the bike, he’s quick to walk over and see what the issue is. You explain that you’ve noticed a difference in tire pressure. In your move your gauge got misplaced and you hadn’t quite yet had time to get someone to look at it until now.

“Yeah, we can check that for you. No problem. So any other plans for today?” he asks, making small talk. You talk briefly about the weather, though there’s not quite a lot to talk about it. Not too long later, the guy’s able to confirm that one of tires did have something puncturing it and letting out some air. But he’s quick to let you know that they can fix it in just a few minutes if the two of you have it.

“I’d greatly appreciate it,” you start and then look at Calum, who just shrugs. “Yeah, can you fix it?”

“Sure can. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You watch Calum browse, trying not to linger on the way his back moves underneath the t-shirt as he reaches up for something along the walls. And it’s like asking to get into trouble. Though there’s nothing wrong with instructors dating. You just had a plan, that's all.The first semester you’d get settled, figure out what this whole student teaching life was all about. And the more you watched Calum, the more you were sure that plan was going to fall apart.

“Here she is, all fixed up.” You look up from your spot, in the store, having migrated to the opposite end of the door and walk over to the man with your bike. “Just a little puncture. Nothing too bad.” He rattles off the costs and it’s more than you anticipated, but not so much more that you have complaints.

Calum’s quick to take over the bike and walk it back outside, smiling as you hold the door open for him. “Thanks.”

“No, thanks to you. For chauffeuring me around.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he returns, getting the bike back onto the rack. “Did you want to explore some nearby shops?”

“Oh, hmm. Maybe later. I haven’t an ounce of lesson plans just yet. So I think I should maybe get my week 2 planned.”

“Well it sounds like you have something of week one planned,” Calum counters.

“We were forced. Thanks to orientation.”

He laughs. “Yeah, they wanted you to have that down at least.”

In the brief glance around, as you try to tell yourself, you shouldn’t explore, you spy a little coffee shop. It looks intriguing. And you point out the sign. “Have you ever tried them?”

“Yeah--it’s a really good shop.”

You take a small step towards the building, careful though because you’re still in the parking lot and about to head into the street. “Can I tack on just a tiny bit of exploring and grab a cup?”

“Of course.”

“Recommend anything?”

Calum holds the door open as he speaks. “Chai Latte, but you can’t tell anyone that it was me that recommended it.”

“Your secret it safe with me.”

In line, you try not to think about how close Calum is, as he stands behind you. But you can feel him, or maybe you want to feel it, you’re aware of him that it’s like all you’d have to do is fake a clumsy step back to be resting into his chest. You imagine it to be firm, but somehow cozy. And maybe that’s just the worn t-shirt he’s adorned in and the beanie on his head. But his presence feels soft to you.

Your daydream doesn’t last long as the line shuffles forward and you take the step forward rather than the step backward. The coffee shop is quaint, the wide windows letting in plenty of sunlight. But the tables are dark brown and look worn from your place in line. It feels lived in and you enjoy that even though the outside was painted a hunter green, the inside is a pretty beige accented by the chocolate wood of the tables.

“It’s like a dream,” you state in a whisper, taking in the lights in the ceiling and the scattered bodies of students with backpacks at their feet and others whom you assume live in town and are most likely trying to enjoy the last bits of quiet before the rest of the students descend onto the campus and town.

In all your sight exploration, your order is called up and Calum has to get it for you. He smiles though, watching the wonder that fills your eyes. “The offer’s still on the table,” he states, handing over the correct cup t you. “We can explore.”

“Can we raincheck? What does next weekend look like for you?”

He still hadn’t responded to Ashton about the hike. So he doesn’t really have plans. “Free as a bird.”

“Would it be okay? To wait till then?”

“Of course,” he exhales. “I’m not the one still learning with training wheels of teaching. I can do this in my sleep.”

“Oh, so big and tough,” you joke, but head back to the front door. The two of you break back out into the bright sun and it’s warm on your skin. “Just give me a semester. I’ll be able to knock you down a peg.”

And Calum doesn’t doubt that for a second. Not with the way you talked about getting into the program. Inside the truck, you’re handed the aux yet again and this time don’t think twice about plugging it in. “To our office?” he asks.

“You’re not even going to be doing anything for real.”

“I like the sense of productivity.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you laugh. The drive back to the campus isn’t as long as you thought it would be. But somehow it comes all too quickly. You’re still not sure what’s happening between you and Calum. It’s easy, natural between the two of you. But your plan--you know it’s all going down the drain. All his jokes make you laugh, and you know one or two shouldn’t. And when you do laugh, Calum turns sheepish. He goes quiet, a tiny smile quivering at his lips.

Calum parks in the employee parking lot in front of the building with your office. Both of you climb out at the same time. And with backpacks, coffee, keys and phones all in place you two trek up to the door. “I think it’s only three of us in the office this year,” Calum talks, fishing out the right key on the hook.

“Only three?”

“This used to be an old dorm building. So they can usually stick four of us into the room. But the email we got about office assignments only had three names. There was a fourth, but I don’t know what happened to them. They were in a different English program than us. And I don’t know if they graduated or not.”

“Ah,” you return, stepping through the door behind him. And it doesn’t remind you too much of a dorm, not in the always at least. But when Calum unlocks the door, you can see where it definitely once was an older dorm building thanks to the sink in the corner. “You weren’t kidding, huh?’

“About it being an old dorm? Not in the slightest.” He drops his backpack into the desk on the left side of the room but closest to the window. A couple pictures decorate the desktop. The desk next to him as a blanket and the whiteboard above it, has something written on it. So you assume it’s the third person. The desk on the right, closest to the door has nothing on it. The one closest to the window, across from Calum is also empty.

You walk into the room some more and Calum pulls out his laptop from his bag and then steps around you. “As a heads up, the door stays locked. So you’ll need your key if you go out and close the door. I got locked out once or maybe twice. And it’s definitely not fun.”

You nod. “Thanks for the heads up.”

He smiles and then slips out of the door and you study the empty desk. It’s stupid, trivial to take the one across from Calum, but you drop your backpack into the office chair. The next time you come, you’ll bring desk decorations. To claim which one is yours. Because right now in the depths of your backpack you don’t have much. Well you do have a book that you don’t really need to keep up with too much. Maybe you can leave that.

Exhaling, you get mostly settled and just before you can get your laptop out of the sleeve the door opens to Calum walking through again. The beanie’s now in his hands as he strides across the room and you can’t help but stare at the curls falling from his head. You want to curse him for looking so good. But you force yourself to go back to your screen.

Calum settles back into his chair and watches you, sitting up straighter than he’s ever seen a person sit. And he wishes he wasn’t so chicken shit about it. You fucking asked him to hang out next weekend. But still, it’s like toying the line. Trying to make sure he’s reading the cues right. Maybe not right now, maybe next weekend he can get a better read, make a move. He turns back to his own laptop and finds the syllabus he made from the last semester. He can still use most of it. Though in the spring they had a break and in the fall, now they don’t. So he can delete that week as no class and actually have time for the group project in class that the department requires for them to teach.

A couple hours go by, silence between the two of you, but the clacking of keys makes a chorus around the room. Calum pauses every so often to look over his shoulder. Sometimes you’re deep into work, pushed up into the seat. And once or twice, he found you slouched, staring out at the window next to both of you.

Another hour passes and shuffling ensues behind Calum. He looks over and finds you packing up. “Headed home?”

You nod. “Managed to get the first unit mostly planned. We’ll see how it goes.”

He smiles. “I’m sure it’ll go well.” He goes to turn around and then remembers your bike is still attached to the back of his car. “Oh, let me go with you to get your bike,” he says ,shooting up from his chair. It rolls backwards for a split second but then makes a sudden stop.

“Oof,” you let out, rubbing at your stomach.

“Oh my god,” he rushes out, stepping in closer. “I’m so sorry. Had no clue you were that close. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and then look up. And Calum’s eyes are a deeper brown that you initially thought. Now that he's closer to you. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you exhale in a breath.

“You sure? I think the Campus Health Services is open. Or you know, urgent care?”

“I don’t think you caused internal bleeding. Just caught me off guard.”

He finally brings his gaze up from where you’ve stopped holding your stomach to your eyes. And he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t let his gaze drop below your eyes, because truth be told he already stared too much at your lips during the entirety of orientation. And he already knows just how plump they are.

It’s silent--almost uncomfortably so. “Can I--I should get your bike,” Calum says, saving himself from sure embarrassment.

He steps around you and you stretch out, capturing his wrist in your hand. “No, what were you going to ask?” you ask. The question leaves you without much thought and you know you shouldn’t ask. But you just can’t help it. Because you almost stretched up to kiss him.

“It’s nothing,” he returns. But he doesn’t pull his wrist away.

“Is it really nothing?”

Calum feels you step in closer. He inhales and lets it slowly. He shouldn’t. He absolutely should not let the question cross his lips. But he turn, and sees you illuminated by the sun from the windows and god, how can he deny an angel standing in front of him. “I was going to ask if I could ask you a question.” And it’s not really what he was going to ask. But it buys him some time.

“You can ask me.”

“Do you--is this--,” he exhales, for a moment hating that the words are getting caught in his throat. “I don’t know if you’re feeling the same thing I am. But I-I’ve been interested in you, like from the second I saw you at the orientation. And I really, really don’t want to make a fool of myself. But I was hoping, are you interested? In me?”

There it goes--the plan--down the drain in just a few sentences. “If you’re asking if I thought you were attractive, yes. And if you’re asking if I care to see where this goes, the answer is also yes. But it really wasn’t supposed to go down like this.”

The elation covers his face and makes his cheeks push up as he smiles--so much so that the skin around his eyes crinkles. “I’ll gladly interrupt all your plans.”

You scoff at the sentiment, but feel your body heating up. Calum steps in even closer to you. His fingers find yours and thread them together. “So the real question I had was if I could kiss you? But I wasn’t sure if that was too forward.”

“Too forward a minute ago. But not too forward for right now,” you state, already moving in to kiss him. It’s short, longer than a peck, but not quite long enough. Because as you pull away, Calum’s other hand is cupping the back of your head and keeping you closer. His hold is firm but his lips are soft and you melt, knees buckling just for a moment. Thankfully, you manage to recover quickly. It doesn’t stop Calum from chuckling.

“Are you telling me that I have that kind of effect on you?”

“Shut the fuck up, and kiss me again,” you state breathlessly. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. His lips capture yours again, happy to finally get a small taste of you. And you’re acutely aware that it must look ridiculous--you with your backpack full to the nines pressed up against Calum’s chest, chasing down his lips because his touch is mixing in with the scent of his cologne and all you know for sure is that it’s an intoxicating mixture that you want to be trapped in forever.

You pull away, needing just a moment to catch your breath and Calum rests his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to leave me now?” he teases.

“I--I’ll be honest. The reason why I was leaving was because I knew this was going to happen.”

“Oh? You knew?”

You laugh, cupping his jaw. “Calum, I know one thing for sure. You’re a dangerous man to be around.”

“Oh you’ve just met me. I should be offended.”

“Should be?” you question.

“You’re--I don’t know what. But I knew that I wanted to know you. So whatever words that exist for that--that’s what you are.”

“I’m flattered,” you state softly.

“If you give me 5, I can pack up my stuff and drop you off back at home. Now I’d be an asshole not to drop you off.”

You watch him, pulling back from the closeness. “I can make it home now that my bike’s fixed. Thanks to your insistence.”

“Well, let me insist one more time that I make sure you get home safely.”

“Fine,” you resign. And he’s quick to pack up. Out in the hallway, he takes your hand, threading your fingers again. And it’s natural, easy between the two of you. You bump shoulders, laughing as you step out in the daylight.

Inside his car, you slip back into the passenger seat. But when Calum settles into the driver seat and gets buckled in, he rests one hand on your thigh. Not too high up, nothing too suggestive, but not directly on your knee. You try not to let it fluster you, the ease at which he establishes touch, but your heart races just a little.

You curl your fingers around his palm--it’s something to do with your hands, but also allows you a bit of control. You direct him easily back to your apartment. It’s nearly a straight shot, minus the one left turn needed and when he pulls up into a parking space in front of your building, he squeezes at your fingers just a little.

You face him with a smile. “Thanks, for everything.”

“Yeah of course,” he returns. “So, next weekend? More exploring?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll text you about the date and time for sure. Unless we meet again in the office.”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you laugh gently stretching across the console. “I have a suspicion we shall meet again in the office.”

“Lovely,” he breathes and you meet his lips, capturing them gently before pulling away and grabbing all your things. Your bike is easy to get down and then you lock it back up on the rack outside, even though Calum does help. He leans up against the door and you spy him watching.

“Enjoying the show?” you tease shaking your butt at him at the outside door of the building.

His laughter rings out. “Making sure you get inside safely, actually. But a show is always welcomed.”

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dimpledlavendeer · 4 years ago

Text

This is a bit long and suggestive

I can't belive this is what I'm imagining in my exam week but he's Lee Heeseung after all isn't he 😩🖤

Making out with a Jealous Heeseung

Ft.Jay and Minhee from cravity

Jay invited you both to one of this fancy night club kind of place

Heeseung definitely didn't want to go

You had to convince him because it was important for Jay, plus all the other boys were going so it would be rude not to go

You two started getting ready to meet with the others at the club

You wore something like this, not too revealing

Heeseung was not the type of boyfriend to get involved with the way you dress, he always admired and praised your beauty so you were comfortable with anything you wear

When you were finally ready, you go down stairs to meet a grumpy Heeseung

A playful smile formed on his face when he saw you

"It's still not too late to spend the night for ourselves baby"

"We talked about this Heeseung, we can come home early but we should be there"

He sighed deeply "Fine"

You gave him a peck on the lips and turn around to go get your jacket but he held you from your waist

"You look amazing" he said in a whispering tone

You placed your hands around his neck "I always do"

He was in love with your confident figure even tho it's not always the way your are but once you are he found it incredibly attractive

Your hands were playing with the ends of his long black hair, slowly getting closer to him

His grip on your waist were getting even tighter, his eyes focused on your lips while he was licking his

You loved to see your affect on him with a simple movement but you didn't have time for a make out right now

So you just kissed his cheek before saying "You have to be a bit patient tonight"

The expression on his face changed drastically as he frustratedly said "You're so freaking cruel"

The way he looked so cute while saying this made you giggle which made him groan in frustration

You hold him from his neck to give him another small peck on the lips, this time he hold your face

"Kiss me right" he commanded before smashing his lips into yours

One of his hands was holding your face so that he could kiss you the way he wanted

and the other one was trailing down to your waist

When he teasingly bite on your lower lip you let out a little whine, gripping on his shirt

He tilted your head to a side to reveal your neck to him

He was leaving wet kisses everywhere, making you completely forget about going out to meet with others

When he started sucking on your skin, your head managed to start functioning and remembering that you're being late

"P-please, we have to go" you said breathing heavily

"They can wait for a bit longer" he said definitely not caring about anything else but you atm

You managed to hold his chin to make him look at you

His black hair was a bit messy now but that looked even better, his dark eyes were looking into yours with anticipation while his hand on your waist was gripping you tighter than ever

He was needy right now and it looked great on him

"We have to go" you said kissing him once more

He fixed your hair and wipe your lipstick away from his lips before saying "You owe me a night"

You giggled and kissed his neck before fixing your make up to go out

After you arrived at the place the others were, you get inside holding Heeseung's hands

It didn't take long for you guys to find Jay, he hugged you both before showing you the way to meet the rest of the boys

It was so loud and filled with people, everyone was dancing like crazy,, everyone was drunk

It felt so unfamiliar to you but Hee wasn't looking affected at all

Jay and Hee were talking about something and it looked serious considering the way they talked even with this music blasting out

Jay took you to a place with less people at least there were places to sit now

Whatever they were discussing about was serious so Heeseung told you to sit there and wait for him for a while, before following Jay

You were sitting alone, with a couple of people next to you but definitely not as crowded as the previous place

Your eyes were on your phone so that you could answer when Hee calls to not worry him

When you lift your head from your phone you saw a glass of drink and a smiling face in front of you

"Minhee?"

"Hey y/n"

"Oh my God Kang Minhee?! What are you doing here?!"

You were so surprised to see one of your friends from high school at a freaking night club

"As you can see I'm working as the hot bartender ;)" he was looking almost the same as before but more handsome

You giggled at his words, "I always knew you were the club boy anyways" you said

He laughed at your words "Look who's talking club girl" he said winking at you

"It's been so long since the last time I can't belive we met like this" you said

"Well time did you good" he said smiling "You look amazing"

You smiled back, "Said the boy crush of the school" you said teasing him

He was one of your closest friends at high school but you guys got drifted away because of his "relationships" with other girls

"Oh so you're still into me huh?" He said smirking

You know he was joking but somehow it made you uncomfortable, thinking about Hee

Yes Minhee was everyone's crush back in the days and yes you two had a history but it was all at past

A broken smile formed on your face remembering of the past, your gaze focus on the glass

When you lifted your head to respond to him your eyes met with your boyfriend's

His strong gaze was focused on you while he was watching you from behind

"Fuck.." you murmured, he probably misunderstood the way you speak with a stranger all giggly and stuff

You watched Heeseung while his jaw was clenching, when Minhee followed your gaze he saw a furious Heeseung looking at you two

"I'll explain to him" Minhee said moving towards Heeseung

You were panicked so you grabbed Minhee from his arm to stop him before realizing you screwed up even more by doing that

Heeseung's gaze fall into your hands on Minhee's arm before he walked towards you

He grabbed you from your arm literally dragging you with him to the exit

He was so damn angry you could see it from his furrowed brows and clenching jaw and you had had no idea how to explain it to him

"Heeseung, please slow down okay?"

No response

"It's not what it looks like istg"

Again no response

"DAMN IT HEESEUNG MY ARM HURTS CAN YOU CALM DOWN?"

He stopped in front of his car opening the door for you

"Get in" he said

"Listen to me Heeseung, please"

He didn't even look at you before going to his side of the car to get in, not repeating himself for you to get in

You did as he said, getting in realizing even more how angry he was

He was just driving without talking, brows furrowed,eyes focused on the road

But the problem is that he was driving so fast and you started to get scared at this point

"We're going so fast" you managed to say in a low tone eyes focused on him

"Mind your own business" he replied back

"Heeseung don't be like this" you said moving towards him

He started to drive even faster at your actions not caring about anything

You were so frustrated because he didn't even listen to you and you had enough

"Slow down" you said raising your tone

He didn't care at all

"ENOUGH" you said grabbing his hand making him pull the car off to the side of the road

He grabbed your hand pulling you close to him, grabbing your hair with his other hand and smashing his lips to yours

Your other hand was in the air not knowing where to land at his sudden action which was not what you were expecting at all

He was kissing you aggressively, tongue inside your mouth like he was discovering somewhere new

He let go of your hand, placing his hand on your throat instead

He bite your lower lip as if he was trying to make it bleed while slightly squeezing your throat with one of his hands

"Get to the backseat" he whispered on your lips, unfastening his belt and yours

You got out of the car, getting to the backseat and him following you

"Sit" he said showing his lap and so you did placing your legs on both sides, sitting on his lap while looking at his eyes

He pushed your hair behind your shoulders, then placing one of his hands back to where it was on your throat

"Minhee huh? Your ex?" He asked teasing while his index finger was playing with your lower lip

"He isn't my ex"

"Hmm" he got closer to lick your lips then pulling off

He wasn't believing you and you honestly had no idea what he was thinking

All you could think was to kiss him and apologize until he forgives you

Your breath was getting heavier at the sight of him looking that good, his sharp features glowing at night

"How can I make myself forgiven?"

"So you admit you flirted with him while i was gone"

"No, I wasn't he is one of my old friends from high school"

"Which you have a past with" he added to your words

"I-"

"Shhhh" he said cutting you his index finger pressed on your lips, while his other hand was moving down to your ass

He hold your jaw to bring you closer to himself "Make me belive you"

"I'll do anything"

"Anything?" He asked with a small smirk on his face

"Yes, just tell me anything you want please Heeseung"

"Hmmm"

"I'm loyal only to you" you said kissing him, closing the gap between your bodies

He kissed you back, hands on your thighs squeezing your flesh and pulling you close even more

A little moan escaped from your mouth to his lips when he grabbed your ass moving his hips under you

You hold onto his neck, his other hand on your hair, tilting your head to a side to make a better way for his tongue to find yours

His small hip movements under you made you crazy with how the way he touched you, more passionate than ever

He moved onto your jawline licking his way down to your neck placing wet kisses before sucking your skin

Your hand sliding into his hair slightly gripping on them before he held your hands and lead them to behind your back, holding with one of his hands not letting you touch him

His other hand was drawing slow, small circles on your back while he was still working on your neck

You were sure everywhere he bites would turn into bruises tomorrow but honestly you just wanted more

His hand on your back, his hips moving under yours, his lips on your neck everything was too perfect

"I'm sorry, I didn't know he would flirt me" you said in a shaky voice

He sucked on your flesh harshly making you whine, making it clear that he was still pissed off

"I only love you, just you" you said voice cracking, because you hated yourself for making him feel this bad

"How much do you love me?" He whispered to your ear

"As much as to do anything you want me to do for you"

"That's daring for you to say considering our situation now y/n" he said moving his hips, pushing you down on his lap

"I mean what I said" you said before leaning in to kiss him

"We'll see" he said caressing your skin, he seemed to belive you but he still needed you to calm him down a bit

"Tell me what to do" you said kissing his nose

"You owed me a night remember? Pay me back once we're home" he said kissing your collarbone before hugging you tightly, face buried on your chest

"Anything for you, Heeseung"

#enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen suggestive #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #Heeseung suggestive #Enhypen heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung suggestive #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen heeseung #yaren writes

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puckngrind · 3 years ago

Text

Leave Her Wild: chapter 3 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie heads to Washington and cashes in her bet with Nathan.

Warnings: swearing, fluff and stuff

Word count: 2,565 (swear they will get longer)

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Washington.

The two texted back and forth over the week. Mostly randomness with a splash of real life. A friendship was blooming with the text conversation but what else could come of it? Neither one seemed to want to touch the subject. Kenzie wasn't even sure what to make of the attention from Nate. She threw herself into work as she normally would.

MacKenzie spent a few days in Colorado Springs for work but took advantage of her time off by hiking the Garden of the Gods. She was was halfway through Palmers trail when she feels her phone and decides to stop for water and take in the view plus check her phone thinking it was work. She laughs to herself realizing it was in fact not work.

Nate: how’s Colorado Springs?

She snaps a picture of her view and sends it.

Kenzie: gorgeous as always

Nate: holy shit are you hiking alone?

Kenzie snaps a selfie where you can see she’s alone and sends it.

Kenzie: don’t worry not anything too dangerous today. Lol

Nate: ok… not worried. Anyways, thought maybe dinner could be in DC since we will both be there next week.

Kenzie thinks about it and starts walking again. She realizes dinner out of town may in fact make things less awkward.

Kenzie: depends on my schedule but that should work

Nate: good. Enjoy the rest of your hike.

MacKenzie did just that. One thing most people knew about her was she loved adventures and trying new things. She rarely goes to the same vacation spot twice. Always wanting to try new restaurants and really only frequents Gus’s place in Denver. She liked to be free which drove her mother insanely crazy but MacKenzie didn’t seem to care. Her dad was her biggest supporter. Constantly sending her wanderlust Instagram posts after she taught him how. At least her mom had home in Kenzie’s brother, Cameron. Cam was doing everything he was expected to do including recently proposing to his high school sweetheart which Kenzie thought was dumb as seniors in college. His life was his life that was for sure, well and maybe their mother's life too. She couldn't control Kenzie which meant Cam got all of her energy.

The flight to D.C. was a breeze but busy would be an understatement as MacKenzie met her client at the end of the week. The demands were insane in the time frame. She spent almost all weekend in her hotel room working and talking with her team back in Colorado.

Nate: would you want to come to the game? I have tickets.

Kenzie: I would love to but I don’t even know if I can do dinner I’m so swamped

Nate: you need to eat right?

Kenzie: I mean, yeah. I’ll order in

Nate: how about you come to my hotel, we have an amazing restaurant here. You can work and eat

MacKenzie thought it over as she looked out her window. Walking the block and a half to Nathan’s hotel tomorrow night seemed doable. He had a point that she needed to eat and could work while they ate. It would complete their wager from the card game in the same instance. Wondered if Gabe or one of the other players would be around to ensure the dinner happened. MacKenzie thought she wouldn’t have the awkwardness of it feeling like a date this way. Plus, she wanted to try the restaurant out since last time she was in town and another client mentioned it. Mosi was all for the dinner when she called ensuring Kenzie her condo's mail was indeed checked. She thought this was the perfect arrangement and MacKenzie couldn’t find a reason to say no. Thinking Nate would already be at the arena for the game she sent a text.

Kenzie: Yes, to dinner at your hotel if you are still up to it after the game

She starts typing away again and laughs when the ping is almost immediate.

Nate: Perfect. I'll text you when we are back on the bus.

MacKenzie decided to turn the game on while she worked. She normally would have something on as background noise while she worked. She knows she can get lost in work and wanted to make sure she knew to pack up her laptop and such waiting for Nathan's call. She hears his name and looks up to see him score with less than a minute left. The Avalanche was already been leading but that goal ensured their win. She decided to change then couldn’t decide if she should pack up her work yet. “How sure how much time would he take between the game and the bus?” Kenzie asked her reflection. She texted him nice game to see if he would respond. He did a few moments later so she packed up slowly. Kenzie walks down to the street turning to head over to his hotel, humming to herself trying to not over think this very simple dinner. She slows down as she sees the charter bus in front of the hotel. Fuck.

"MAAAAC! Good to see you!" Gabe's voice comes booming out of the bus with some others chiming in as the stepped off the bus. MacKenzie awkwardly smiles at the team and then catches Nathan out the side of her eye. He’s staring at her as he walks down the step.

"Did you walk?" Nathan looks down at MacKenzie puzzled.

"Well, hello. Nice game. And yes. Just two blocks." MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl and then slides her finger down her messenger bag.

"Ready for dinner? I see you brought your work." Nathan taps her bag with his knuckle. MacKenzie nods and follows Nathan into the hotel. She awkwardly stops and he realizes it. “Whatcha doin’ there?” Nate walked back so he was standing in front of Kenzie.

“Isn’t the restaurant that way?” She points in the direction of the sign she stopped next to.

“Yes but they deliver to the room and I’d rather change into sweats and let you work in comfort.” He pulls at his tie. “Less eyes too. Come on.” Nathan placed his hand briefly on MacKenzie’s lower back to lead her to the elevator.

“I normally take the stairs.” MacKenzie looks around Nate for the steps.

“My room is on floor 12 and I just had over 20 minutes of ice time. Can we please take the elevator?” Nathan looked into MacKenzie’s questioning eyes.

“Fine. You have a point.” She smiles but gets lost calculating if that time is high or low for him.

They make their way to Nathan’s room. MacKenzie is surprised how nice it is. She’s not sure what she expected but it wasn’t this. Nathan’s suits neatly hanging up. Sweats sitting in his open luggage next to the closet. She realizes he hasn’t moved from behind her.

“Everything okay?” He moves to grab a pair of shorts and shirt.

“Yeah. Just not what I was expecting. You literally live out of suitcase don’t ya?” She watches him take off his suit coat and gulps at how his shirt is sticking to him.

“Some trips it feels like that. This one we won’t be home until the 26th… then a home stand with a few games on the road… and I’m boring you. Set up wherever you want and I’m gonna go change then will be right back.” He heads to the bathroom shut the door softly.

MacKenzie stares at the uncomfortable looking desk chair in a moment of indecision wanting to be set up so she’s working when Nate returns, she decides the bed was a better option for her to sit. Getting out her laptop Kenzie starts typing as soon as she hears Nate opening the door. He smirks when he sees Kenzie on the bed and moves to the desk to find the menu. She cannot help watching him. His muscles easily seen in the shirt and shorts he picked. He hikes up his pant leg exposing his thigh. Kenzie coughs focusing back on her work again.

"Here it is." Nathan turns around and walks towards MacKenzie handing her the menu. She stares at the menu then her finger lands on a cheeseburger and fries. Nathan moves to the other side of the bed, sitting to call in the order. He hangs up and starts to move.

"You can stay here. That chair is horrible looking." MacKenzie looks over at Nathan and he stops moving then looks down at his feet before swinging them up and adjusting to sit on the bed.

"Thanks." He looks over at her screen. "So what exactly do you do?"

"Simple description... I am a social media consultant." MacKenzie giggles. "Speaking of... your social media..." "Is non-existent." Nathan finishes her statement.

"Yeah, only two posts. That’s shocking for someone your age. Nate, do you know how you could amplify your earnings post career?" MacKenzie moves her computer and shift so look at him. He rubs the back of his neck and rotates on his hip to look at her better.

"Yeah. No, yeah. I get it. Just not my thing but you looked at my socials?" He bites his lip.

"I did after we ran into you at the bar post-game. Would've felt funny giving you my number if you had a girlfriend." MacKenzie admits.

"No girlfriend. So did you say you watched the game?" Nate changes the subject which Kenzie made a mental note of.

"Background noise while working. You can turn the tv on now or just talk to me. You scored." Kenzie looks over at Nathan.

"Empty netter but yeah. Nice win." Nathan says softly. The knock on the door stops their conversation. "Oh, dinner!" Nathan pops up and answers the door.

Dinner was delicious. The two shared backgrounds such as where they were from, college for MacKenzie, boarding school and early days of hockey for Nathan. They were laughing at each other's stories which lead to both laying on their stomachs watching a video for MacKenzie's work on her laptop.

"Kenz... Kenzie. Wake up!" Nathan whispers and MacKenzie's groggy self pops up and lands on Nathan's naked torso.

"Holy fuck!" She yells out. Nathan's hands steady her.

"Hey." Nathan backs up and bends to look her in face. Panic written all over her face. "You okay? We fell asleep talking." He looks at her.

"Why didn't you wake me? What time is it? Fuck. Sorry. I'm on a schedule." MacKenzie pulls away and looks for her bag realizing Nathan plugged her computer in at some point.

"It's 6:30. We just slept. I sleep shirtless and, uh, must've taken it off in my sleep. Sorry, should've put in on before I woke you. Hold on." Nathan moves to the other side of the bed and throws his shirt back on. "Let me call you an uber." He grabs his phone.

"I can walk. I don't have a meeting until noon so I'm fine. Thank you." MacKenzie points to the bathroom and Nathan nods.

She stands in front of the mirror for way too long just looking at herself. Pinches her cheeks and starts ranking her fingers through their loose blonde curls making them manageable enough to put up in a high ponytail. She grabs Nathan’s toothpaste and brushes her teeth with her finger.

“Well, Mac. This will have to do.” She bobs on the balls of her feet to psych herself up. Returning to the room she notices that Nathan had changed and slipped on some shoes. “Whatcha doin’ Nate?”

“I’ll walk with you. I wanted to grab coffee from down the street before we leave for the airport.” He grabs his wallet.

“You don’t have to.” Kenzie whispers as she heads to her bag.

“I don’t, but I wanna.” Nate smiles at her. She notices those soft eyes again. Almost gray but then again blue.

They head out of room to the steps. MacKenzie took a deep breath not realizing she was holding it until they got to the door.

“Why good morning you two!” Gabe’s voice comes from around the corner with a bag and coffee in hand.

“Mornin’” Nate answers and pushes the cross walk button.

“Glad to see you Kenzie.” Gabe nods and starts whistling while heading back to the hotel.

“Don’t mind him.” Nate breaks the silence after crossing the street.

“I’m assuming he’s thinking you got lucky last night.” MacKenzie tries to control her racing heart.

“I’ll talk to him.” Nathan assures her. She stops and looks up at him.

“Did you want to?” She puts her hand on her head not sure she really said it out loud.

“What?” Nathan stops and looks at her confused.

“Did you want to sleep with me?” She looks to see if anyone could hear her.

“No. Well… damnit. Hi. Let me start over.” Nathan looks deep in her eyes and cups her face.

“Go ahead.” She’s not sure if the words actually could be heard or not.

“I like you. You are easy to talk to. In the short time I’ve known you I’m constantly wanting to know more. I’m just bad at dating.”

“Why do you say that?” She moves closer to him without thinking.

“I’m not romantic. Plus my job isn’t the easiest for most of the year to maintain a healthy relationship. Plus, there is those who just want me for what I could give them.” He drops his hand to her hip. She sees his chest rise and fall.

“Who says you aren’t romantic?” MacKenzie questions.

“Every girl I’ve dated.” Nathan grumbles. This makes Kenzie laugh. “Well, they have.”

“I like you too, Nate. You intrigue me.” She feels the heat in her cheeks.

“So to answer your original question, yes. I would very much like to be physical with you but I also want to date you. Like not to fuck it up by…” She stops him by pushing herself to her tip toes to softly kiss his cheek.

“Well, saying all that is a start in how not to fuck it up.” She smiles at him. “Let’s get me back to my hotel then we can visit this whole dating thing when you return to Denver.” She starts walking and he quickly grabs her hand to walk with her.

“Here we are.” He stops at the doors of her hotel. “So, I’ll see you in two weeks, Kenzie.” Nathan drags out the two while contorting his face.

“It’s not that long plus you will be busy and I have this plus another project to finish before then.” She rubs the back of his hand with her thumb realizing how large his hand was in comparison which could crush her hand if he wanted. “Thanks for dinner Nate.”

“Can I?” He starts and gulps. MacKenzie watches his Adam’s apple bob. “Can I kiss you?” He asks with a quiver in his voice. She nods her head yes. Nate brings his hands up to her jaw holding her face up while he leans in pressing his lips to hers. Kenzie kisses him back and cannot remember a first kiss quiet like that. He releases while sucking in a deep breath.

“I…” Kenzie touches her lips.

“Well, see you soon Kenzie.” He kisses her forehead then turns quickly to head back down the street leaving Kenzie wanting more.

#leave her wild fic #nate the great 29 #N MacKinnon fic #2019 hockey season #nathan mackinnon

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jjyusmile · 4 years ago

Text

enchanting | hwang inyeop

pairing: badboy!hwang inyeop x {gender-neutral} reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings: suggestive nature, alcohol, an almost accident, fwb if that makes you uncomfortable!

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @katinthemoon

A/N: happy true beauty season finale day! I hope you enjoy this dedication to our favourite second lead <33 give inyeop lots of love on his socials because he deserves it!!

»»——————————-——————————————-««

you couldn’t help but think to yourself.

was it the way he walked? the way he held his head so high that his fluffy hair almost touched the clouds? was it the way he thought the world revolved around him? his cocky aura screaming ‘look at me! look at me!!’?

and yet, he was nothing like you had imagined. saying that second “yes” completely warped your world – how much longer can I stick to this friend with benefits thing?

the thought spurred a memory of how you first met. somehow… you ended up in his clutches. he was the boy who wandered the corridors, his disciples in toe, and nobody could touch him. except somehow… you did. well, kind of.

you remember it clear as day. it was a thursday night, your fluffy socks rested against the hard wood of your coffee table in front of you as you chatted on facetime to your parents. when your stomach grumbled, so loud that maeum, your fluffy chow-chow, lifted her head from against the armrest with curiosity as to wear the sound came from. such inquisitive eyebrows for a nonchalant pup that barely batted an eyelash unless you were filling her dinner bowl.

“even we heard that…” your dad’s smile filled the screen, a light teasing in his tone. you thought to yourself when the last time you ate was… it hadn’t been today.

“why don’t you head out and grab something good for yourself from the convenience store? I know you don’t cook for yourself, my baby.” your mother’s disapproving tone caused your eyes to roll -- miles away and she still nagged about the fact you ate nothing but instant noodles if you could be bothered.

“okay, ma. I’ll go do that. thank you for your concern.” short and snappy, your patience wore thin. probably because she was right and you were absolutely ready to devour some food.

a few air kisses later, and you were gliding the zipper up to just beneath your nose, the sherpa material insulating all heat it could as you brace yourself for the bitter cold. maeum’s tail wiggled excitedly in anticipation, her harness wrapped snuggly against her fur. “come on then,” you giggled at the way she span around energetically as you unlocked your front door. she practically knew the route to the convenience store by now… for a 6-month old chow, she was very intuitive.

out the door. down the hall. press the call button and wait for the elevator with patience. get into the elevator (you had to carry her if it was too busy but she didn’t mind too much). leave your apartment complex and turn left and keep going until the bright lights of the store appeared with a ‘fresh food prepared daily’ sign like a saving grace.

the owner didn’t mind of maeum came into the store, often bending down to give her treats and pets. maeum always leaned into anyone’s affection. it was her favourite time of day.

your airpods blasted your hype playlist, something you did when you needed self-reassurance. walking out of the store, maeum in toe, you rummaged through your bag of snacks, pulling out one of the many samgak kimbap you picked up. the crisp evening put you off sitting outside with a hot meal, plus maeum would attract too many people for your isolated personality to handle. the coo’s and aww’s often got worse as the night went on.

it wasn’t too long of a journey home, but something about the evening air caused you to walk slower and appreciate the serene surroundings. high school kids stumbling out of the noraebang that you often frequented in your days. being drunk on sugary snacks and endless cokes while you sang your little heart out. the snack in your hand tasted almost nostalgic as you remembered the nights you sat for hours outside the convenience store, hoping a kind stranger might sneak you a bottle or two of soju. those were the days you had friends to hang out with, but since you moved closer to seoul for university, they hadn’t bothered to keep in contact. you spent your days sitting alone in class, hoping your professor wouldn’t tell you to pair yourselves up. you were the only person that sighed in relief when they mentioned that they’d pre-assigned partners.

a low growl sounded over your music, with maeum halting in her tracks. it was only as maeum barked so loudly that you paid attention to what was happening. the bike headed straight for you. the rumble of its engine overwhelmed you as you realised you had stepped into the road without checking for oncoming traffic. yelping, you jumped back, pulling maeum abruptly, just quick enough for her to be missed. but it sent you flying onto your ass, a dull throb aching at the impact.

“are you okay?!” a shout from the direction of the motorbike filled your ears, the engine shutting off and footsteps getting closer.

“I’m fine,” you huffed, using your arms to twist your body with difficulty. your tailbone really throbbed as your face morphed into instant regret. you were turning to face the person clad in a helmet and biker jacket that hugged their body tightly in the frosty air.

“umm - I wasn’t talking to you.” you could just make out their eyes in the gap, slightly squinted in apprehension. when they turned their attention to maeum, you realised that look wasn’t for you. maeum, who sat sweetly with her tail wagging, front paws perched on their knees began to lick the helmet off them, only finding purchase in the gap that showed their mysterious eyes. traitor.

it was only when you heard the low chuckle that your attention turned back to the owner of the bike, heart stopping in its tracks for a small second. they reached out to ruffle the abundance of fur that framed maeum’s face, carefully checking for any scrabs or marks from the almost accident.

“hey there, friend! i’m sorry I almost hit you,” their tone emphasised the frown hidden by their helmet. it was only then did they reach up to lift the helmet off their head. and the breath you were about to let out hitched in your throat.

this mysterious biker wasn’t a stranger. he was the notorious bad boy that walked your universities halls, his minions in toe and never batted an eyelash to anyone who showed an interest in him. the one whose name you feared would be called out after yours in pairing for a class project. the one who probably didn’t even know you existed.

he was hwang in-yeop. and your bulging eyes that almost fell out of their sockets told him that you knew that already.

but, little did you know that the moment his leg flung off his bike to check you were okay, he realised who you were too. the one who sat at the front of the class with their pencil knocking in a continuous rhythm against the desk, a sound he realised rang inches louder in his mind compared to the rest of the class. he noticed the way your eyes glistened as you focused on what your professor was saying. he also figured out you never paid attention to anyone else, you sat alone with no intention to allow anyone into your bubble unless they were forced to. he actually hoped his name would be called out after yours.

his question of concern died in his throat when he saw it was you. those glistening eyes still sparkling despite the obvious annoyance in your expression. so he trailed off to pay attention to the adorable fluff beside him, luckily he adored dogs.

your embarrassment flushed in the apples of your cheeks, the heat almost melting the rim of your glasses that rested against the bridge of your nose. “maeum - come on, leave him alone.”

you lifted yourself up, trying not to show the pain. gathering your spilt snacks back into the bag, you stood up stretching your legs. but it difficult not to look at inyeop. his head was tilted slightly as he gazed up at you, this time the apprehension focused on you. was he concerned? he should be! he almost knocked you over!!

quickly, he stood himself, handing maeum’s fallen harness back to you.

“thanks,” you took it back quickly.

“you’re welcome.” his attention was still focused on maeum, who was jumped up at the bag in your hand hoping there was something inside for her.

the silence was excruciating. in the two years you’d known each other, this was the first time any contact had been made. and it was almost unbearable.

“uhhh- thanks again, sorry we almost got you into an accident,” you tried again, reaching into your bag to pick out a snack to give him as a peace offering. although he annoyed you, you realised you should’ve been looking where you were going - at least for maeum.

he took the can that laid flat on your palm slowly, afraid you were just teasing. but you let him take it without reluctance.

“do you- uhh…” he started.

“hmm?” your head raised sharply to turn your attention to him, the snacks in your bag long forgotten.

“do you… do I.. know you?” he tried again. if he was nervous, you could barely sense it. although he was stumbling over his words, his eyes were narrowed in scrutiny, analysing your every feature. he knew exactly where he knew you from, the flick of your pen ringing in the back of his mind. any excuse to keep you beside him longer.

“probably… you’re in my criminology class. although I doubt you’ve ever actually paid attention to anything in that class, let alone me.”

he scoffed, eyes rolling up into the heavens. you really were bold. “that’s quite the assumption.” a smirk so prominent it has sketched its way into your brain, all the way down to the subtle shading of the dimples that outlines the corners of his lips.

you ignored him, focusing on maeum for a moment as she sat beside your feet in a fluffy ball, eyes glittering expectantly at inyeop. you followed her gaze, landing specifically on the creases that lined his eyes as he analysed you. you huffed. “which way are you headed?”

he tilted his head to look over your shoulder at his bike sitting idly on the side of the road. “well, before I was interrupted I was on my way to a party.” and then his eyes met yours. “why? do you want to come?” his signature smirk appeared, the one you caught glimpses of every so often.

you hesitated, the thought of being anywhere remotely sociable filling you with dread. you became nervous in seconds “I- uhh. I was going to say I’d treat you to dinner because of the accident I almost caused…” you were shy, you admit. he couldn’t understand how someone who can barely look him in the eye could be so bold.

your offer caused his heart to do a single backflip; that was more of a reaction than any other, he couldn’t recall this kind of reaction from anyone else. to say the least, he was intrigued by the person who sat at the front of class. “do me a deal.”

“hmm? a deal?” shimmering eyes, etched into his mind.

“you treat me to dinner, and I’ll take you to the party.”

he was met with silence, searching your eyes as you lulled over the thought in your head. right now?

it was almost like he could read your mind. “we could make it a recurring thing… you can make up for me almost hurting not only you but this gorgeous ball of fluff” your heart leaped when he crouched down to rub between maeum’s ears with affection, even more so when he looked back up at you. “… and I’ll teach you how to be sociable.”

“oooh! kinda like a friends with benefits thing?!” you grinned, excited by the fact that you may not have to feel so alone anymore.

his grin widened at your exclaim, certain you weren’t sure exactly what you had just said… “sure… like friends with benefits… are you in?”

and that was how you ended up in the clutches of the notorious bad boy.

»»——————————-——————————————-««

those around you witnessed a flourishing friendship; you were attached at the hip. your five o’clock walks by the beach were met with his bubbly personality, maeum pleased with having someone else to chase the waves with. you finally had someone to sit beside in class, his signature smirk plastered on his face as the whispers of students wondered who on earth their designated bad boy was sat beside.

it got to the point that you remember the little things. he always ordered extra cheesey tteok because you always added extra onto your own. you packed extra heat packs when you knew he’d be joining you. he started turning up three minutes early because he knew that was how long it took you to get from your apartment to the lobby, where he’d be waiting for you with an extra coffee for you in hand. he knew to wear an extra sweater to the party because you always left without a jacket and would complain of the cold despite the countless shots you had consumed. you noticed that when his foot began to tap as the horrifically drunk girl in front of him continued to run her hand down his bicep, he wanted out, so you always stepped in to play the jealous ex.

as the little things continued to build up, your feelings flourished alongside them.

not that you ever did anything about them.

until one night it was clear that things weren’t as they used to be. inyeop had dragged you into an unoccupied room at the party, away from the sleaze who was hitting on you.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you cursed, something you didn’t usually do. it must’ve been the alcohol that coursed through your veins, and the slight haze that the drunk guy’s breath washed over you.

“what am I doing?! what were you just doing out there?!” he grabbed your arm again, you swayed slightly, trying really hard to focus on his eyes.

you smiled at his tone, it was flittered with desperation. “why… what was I doing?”

he couldn’t fight off the annoyance that washed over him at the light smirk that graced your lips. you had been spending far too much time with him, his cockiness was starting to rub off on you.

“you were literally throwing yourself all over that guy!! everyone was watching you!!!” although he knew you weren’t stable on your feet, he shook your shoulders with emphasis.

and the moment you may have changed everything. his face was so close to yours that you could feel his exasperated breath against your cheekbones.

“were you watching?” you shot back.

his eyes widened so much his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “what…”

it came out as a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. his eyes began to glisten, the only hint of innocence he could ever show. you turned his world upside down more than he could have ever imagined.

“I was just having fun, yeop.” your taunting was over.

his head shook abruptly like he was trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. your finger reached up to tap the tip of his nose, the bright smile forming on your lips was impossible to not mirror.

he sighed drastically, a giggle escaping your throat. “can we just go back now… I’ll drop you home. I want to see maeum.”

and like that, you were being dragged out of the house quicker than your feet could keep up. along the way, he had slid his leather jacket over your shoulders as he always did. the walk home was silent as you matched your steps along the path. the low hum of the city began to sober you up, inyeop quietly singing to himself.

since that first party on the night he almost crashed into you, inyeop made it a habit to walk you back. at first, you thought it was because he parked his bike outside your apartment complex. you soon realised there was a caring side behind his bad boy facade that kept everyone else hooked. they clearly didn’t see the soft bean that was for your eyes only. he had become your best friend, and he cared about you just as much as you did him.

he sensed your aura change from beside him, head turning to see the smile light up your face. “what are you grinning about?” his own lips quirked in response to your happy expression.

“not much… just remembering the night you almost sent me and maeum flying.”

he halted abruptly. “hey! you admitted that night was entirely your fault!”

you held your hands up in mocking surrender, “okay! okay… I did admit that…”

he went silent for a moment. and then said something that shocked you; not because of ill intentions, but because you finally realised that that night didn’t just change your life.

“I don’t regret it.”

his eyes were genuine. and you returned the small smile he offered in silent appreciation for one another.

and then the heavens opened.

the mad dash to your apartment was filled with laughter and shrieks from you both. feet slapping against the puddles on the ground as you passed through the lobby doors. your hair clumped in damp strands over your eyes as you began to ring out your damp clothing. inyeop’s jacket became heavy on your shoulders.

“you can’t go home in that. come up for a minute while it settles and you can dry off a little.”

his eyebrows wiggled suggestively in response earning a shove from you.

maeum was overly excited to see inyeop. almost as if you were scotch mist. as he crouched down to give her affection, you headed for your cupboard, pulling out a couple of warm towels for you both to dry off.

you found inyeop lying on his back by the front door, shoes half off with maeum lying on top of his chest giving him her utmost attention. he was mumbling away to himself and giggling.

“what are you laughing about?” the towel landed on his face, earning a scowl from his raindrop stained face.

he then started laughing to himself again.

“what?!” you exclaimed.

“nothing!” he defended, the smile still evident on his lips. you waited, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“it's just… what you said down there got me thinking about something.” you waited again, the silence beckoning more of an explanation for his madness.

he shrugged his sweater off, pulling it from the scruff of the neck over his head. one small flutter.

he proceeded to rush the towel through his hair, biceps flexing in the process. two small flutters.

the whole time, his eyes never flickered from yours. it was the ultimate taunting staredown that caused the third flutter.

you broke the silence first. “thinking about what?”

he neatly folded the towel and placed it over the back of the chair to dry off, his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. in two quick strides, he was stood in front of you, toes touching and fingers reaching for the dry towel you held tightly in your clutches.

quietly, he ran the towel through your hair, careful to focus on drying it completely so that you didn’t get a cold. from just below his chin, you had the perfect view of his features as his eyebrows etched in concentration. you were dying to know what exactly was going through his mind. you cleared your through in an attempt to drag him out of his thoughts.

“well. downstairs you said something that reminded me of something you said before.” you nodded, indicating for him to elaborate. “when we first met, the night you walked out into the road. you asked me if we could be friends with benefits.”

a deep pink flushed in your cheeks as your hands flew up to cover them. his eyes met yours as the embarrassment washed over you. gotcha.

“I did not say that?!” you tried but the bellow that came from inyeop proved just how much he was enjoying seeing his best friend squirm. he knew back then exactly what you meant, but the thought that anything more could ever come between you haunted him since that day.

“that was what… half a year ago now. you were so innocent back then.” his hands dropped from drying your hair, but not within brushing under your chin quickly in taunt.

you were annoyed. you knew inyeop enjoyed teasing you but surely this was too far. your thoughts drew back to early that night when he pulled you away from the guy you had flirted with because you saw him watching. when you teased him, it was the only time you’d ever seen him hesitate. and you enjoyed it.

“I’m not innocent anymore,” you taunted. eyes narrowed into your own, inyeop focused on read your thoughts as he tried not to react. but he couldn’t help it. for the last few months, you played with each other until you almost crossed the line. but the thought of crossing the line, even just once, left a dull burning in his stomach.

“is that right?” he retorted, eyebrow raised as his face seemingly inched closer to yours.

“mmhm.” it was all you could say. your nose filled with the cologne he was wearing, it was a mix of warming vanilla, swirls of cinnamon and just… him. “how enchanting,” you muttered lowly, he didn’t hear anything.

he was too focused on the way your eyes flickered between his, searching for some kind of each. you were in the same position, you always were. seeing which one of you broke first. but he also knew it would be him. so then came his next words.

“okay… prove it.”

a gasp escaped your throat, a mixture of shock and a sudden craving for touch. “what?” it came out as a whisper.

“prove you’re not innocent. maybe we can expand on that friends with benefits deal we made.” he wasn’t holding back. he had done for far too long, constantly tiptoeing on the tension that could light up this entire apartment building.

your fingers inched closer to him, both for support in your knees that were about to buckle, but also with the overwhelming desire to make contact. his white tshirt clung perfectly to his torso. one night couldn’t hurt.

“okay,” you agreed. but held your hand up to his face quickly to stop him from leaning in. “but! it’s a one time thing. you said you could teach me things so we’ll treat it as that.” excuse after excuse poured out of you before you could stop it, fear that your feelings would multiply the moment his lips met yours.

his lips quirked slightly as he nodded in agreement. but as soon as he got a taste, it was like something was yelling from within, a burning desire that laid idly for so long threatening to overflow. his fingers grappled at the curve of your jaw to keep him grounded. your own pulled at the hem of his shirt, a silent begging for the moment you had both thought about but never acted upon.

your body flushed against his, he barely let go to pull his shirt over his head with one hand, the other planted in a grip at your waist. your lips parted momentarily only to be chasing after one another the moment the white material met the floor. he guided you blindly, knowing your apartment by the back of his hand, your lips locked in a desperate embrace.

the moment your knees hit the end of the bed, you fell backwards hitting the comforter softly. inyeop stood over you, quietly taking in your appearance below him. his eyebrow quirked with his signature smirk making an appearance.

“you sure you just want this to be a one time thing?” his fingers traced up your thigh in taunt.

you groaned and pulled him down to you, “shut up.”

and the night went on, whispers of affection, lips tracing across the plains of each other's skin as he showed you how the gods lived, and you proved to him your innocence melted away at the flick of his fingers. you decided then that you were wrong. it couldn’t be a one time thing. because the moment his lips reached for your own, any unease washed away as you were met with the melting pools of his eyes.

this was something only the two of you shared. the subtle touches and flirtation from the previous months finally adding up.

the clock flashed in the darkness, indicating that you were approaching the fourth hour of the day. inyeop’s fingers traced down your sides subconsciously as he pressed delicate kisses into your shoulder. you had laid in silence for what felt like hours, basking in each other’s warmth and sudden bursts of giggles as you reached for each other. you were wrapped up in everything about him - his delicate touch, his intoxicating scent, his plush lips that barely left any part of your body untouched.

it was him that broke the silence, pulling you to turn into his embrace, noses brushing as your heads rested against the same pillow. “that was fun.”

you giggled against his lips, his bluntness causing flowers to bloom in your chest. “it was.”

he exhaled slowly, fingers coming up to push your bangs away from your eyes, fingers grazing over your eyebrows. he realised his fingers moved subconsciously to smooth out the frown lines that were usually there… but were far from it in these early hours of the night.

“what do you think… about all this.” he questioned, hoping you didn’t regret the last few hours.

“it was… interesting.” you giggled as the worry on his face faded at your response. “we could… uh- make it a thing.”

“a thing?” he wiggled his eyebrows for the second time that night, suggestively hinting to you.

“yes, a thing.”

“like.. our thing?” his the pads of his fingers wandered the high points of your cheeks until he met your lips, brushing over them nonchalantly.

“sure. our thing.”

he was mesmerised by how your lips moved under his touch, silently scolding himself for not being this bold sooner. you were merely adding another layer onto your friendship, no strings attached.

but his eyes focused solely on your lips, the way they curved when you smiled, only at him. “how enchanting.” he whispered.

and that was how your arrangement began. best friends outside of these four walls. best friends with a twist the moment you stepped in through the door.

you often found yourself making excuses to remain in your apartment. simply sitting together and reading was enough for you, subtle touches coming with time as you tried to focus on the page in front of you.

but, trying to get his attention once he was engrossed in a book was difficult. you never expected the so-called bad boy to be a softy for mysterious quests and fending off evil. then again, that was one of the raging stereotypes inyeop constantly diminished.

maeum rested her head against his shoulder as she laid across the top of the sofa, tiny beige fur tickling his neck as she stretched out but he didn’t mind. maybe if you gave attention to maeum he might get a little jealous?

your intense stare, that was supposed to be for her, was often warped by the way his eyebrow quirked at a funny line, or his jawline sharpening abruptly as he stretched his neck from sitting in the same spot all day. his fingers grazing your ankle didn’t help the situation at all. until he caught you staring.

he lifted his head that was previously buried in Legends of Condor Heroes, his hand falling to his lap as he turned to you. his head hit the back of the sofa when his gaze pooled into your own; they glistened, his eyes, something it took you a long time to notice. he’d tell you it happened the moment you said yes… but you’d argue that it was there all along, the walls he built up disguising it from the world.

“what are you looking at?” he quipped, eyebrow raised as a subtle smirk rested on his lips. the way the corners turned up right at the edges formed a fuzzy feeling right in the pit of your stomach. and that’s why he did it - inyeop lived for the reaction he got from you.

“nothing,” you turned your head back to your own book. legs sliding back to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them; your chin rested against your knees while you tried to focus on the words on the page. you had his attention now – bingo.

a sudden jolt almost knocked you off the plush cushions, inyeop had lifted your feet to drape them back over his lap “where they belonged”. the novel he was so concentrated on before was now placed neatly on the armrest, the dog-ear bookmark on the corner resembling maeum’s. a small smile washed over his features when he realised what you were doing, fingers reaching up to tuck your fallen strands behind your ears. you weren’t expecting it; he barely flinched when he pulled you closer. you could see why everyone at school constantly stared, he wasn’t on the weaker side. it was growing more difficult to fight off the rush of emotion that came over you and swelling in your chest each time his eyes crinkled, intensely gazing into your own; his bad boy persona was diminishing little by little before your very eyes.

this arrangement made subtle touches toward each other a very normal thing. you found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself, especially in public. moments as you were walking down the street, your fingers would gravitate toward his.

“hi.” the crinkles around his eyes becoming deeper as he smiled. “someone wants attention.”

“aren’t you supposed to be going on a date soon?” you quipped, remembering that he wasn’t just yours to share.

he hummed, finger coming to his chin exaggeratedly as he stared off to the side in pretend thought. he did, but he knew where he’d rather be.

in response, your book was flung across the room, but not before he delicately folded at the corner of the page you were on. his fingers gripped onto your waist as he inhaled slowly, eyes wandering over your features like it was the first time he ever saw you.

“fancy a quick one?” that signature smirk was hard to say no to.

»»——————————-——————————————-««

A/N: part 2? ;)

#hwang in yeop #inyeop #hwang inyeop fluff #hwang inyeop suggestive #hwang inyeop angst #han seo jun #han seojun #true beauty #true beauty seojun #second lead syndrome #hwang inyeop #hwang inyeop au #hwang inyeop fic

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