#anyways she asked me to come to a meeting or to have some drinks a couple of times

[rosewaterandivy]

symptoms of the culture

Summary: Last call at the bar and you’re still here? Jesus Christ girl, get yourself together!

Pairing: e.m. x f!reader

W.C.: 1.9k

A/N: a continuation of our meet cute with eddie ☺️

Meeting Eddie at the bar was like something from a romantic comedy, and unlike everything you’d experienced before.

He did end up letting you buy that drink after all, which turned in to him buying you a drink because “it’s the polite thing to do.”

Your friend checked in maybe once or twice before deciding you could handle yourself, if it came to that (she didn’t seem to think that would be the case though). The crowd had dwindled down to mostly the regulars and friends of the bartenders, and you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until someone bellowed, “Last call!”

Eddie’s deft fingers traced the rings of condensation on the wooden table, dragging droplets of water into various shapes. Enthralled, you quickly realized that you could watch him do something like that all day, if you weren't careful.

“Shit,” You say, downing the last of your beer, “I didn’t mean to hold you up for so long.”

His lips kick up to one side, dimples prominent despite the low light. There’s a glint in his eye as he looks you up and down, a slow assessment that has you shifting in your seat.

“Riddle me this, sugar,” He says drumming his fingers on the table, “You really think there’s any place I’d rather be?”

And with that, he leaves to pay the tab, leaving his question hanging in the air.

Not that you could have formulated a semblance of a response anyway. Grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair, you shove your free hand into your purse to scrounge up your card to cover the tab as you sidle up beside him at the bar top.

Eddie’s got two bills in front of him, one large hand over each so you can’t figure out which is yours. Going to pluck either one from his grasp is useless, and after the second attempt, he simply holds it above your head and out of your reach.

“Try me, short stuff,” He taunts with a huff of a laugh. “Besides, your money’s no good here.”

Thinking twice before you could potentially demean yourself by actually jumping up to steal the bill from him, you turn to the bartender with a smile instead to ask:

“Can you print another bill please?”

And once you’ve supplied your last name, it should be a done deal. You expect him to reply with a nod and a ‘you got it’, accompanied by the familiar sound of a receipt being printed.

Instead, it goes a little something like this:

The bartender turns to glance at Eddie, and he gives the bartender some sort of look— which, what would the bartender need approval from a patron? Then, he shoves both receipts into the jar by the register and leans against the bar top and props an elbow on it as he faces you, like he’s waiting for something.

“Can’t do it.” The bartender sighs, “The bossman says you’re money’s no good here, them’s the rules.”

You try, and fail, to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Y-you own this bar? You’re that Eddie?”

“In the flesh and at your service.”

A beat of silence passes between you as the bartender clears his throat and begins closing preparations.

“Well, technically,” Eddie allows, with a twist of his lips, “I co-own it with a buddy of mine. This and couple of other places around town.”

And, well. For someone who dresses like they should be in a biker gang or fronting a prog-metal band, Eddie sure didn’t strike you as a real estate mogul.

“That’s cool,” You say with a nod, hand shoved into your purse once more. Rifling around a bit, you come back with a glorious fist of cash and shove it into the kitty near the register that simply reads, Alms for the pour.

“Soooo,” He drawls, the awkward end of the night coming upon you rapidly. “You good to drive or…?”

“Oh, no worries,” You say flippantly, quickly debating whether your should call an Uber at the hour of just suck it up and walk home. You could cut through campus and maybe shave five minutes off of the journey, anyway.

“I can get you an Uber—”

“No, it’s fine, really.” You adjust the shoulder strap of your bag and grab your keys, “I live just off the campus, it’s walkable from here.”

Eddie’s fingers loop around your wrist before you can say your goodbyes and high-tail it out of there. The silver of his rings glints in the light and the cool metal contrasts with the warmth of his hand as it engulfs yours.

“Nuh uh, not happening.” His tone leaves no room for discussion. “I’m not gonna let you walk—”

“It’s not even a mile!” You interject, “I cut through campus and skirt the park and I’m golden.”

“The park? At three in the morning?” He shakes his head, fingers forming a bracelet around your wrist, “Not even sorry to say, that is unequivocally not happening.”

Eddie tugs you with him as he passes behind the bar and down a small corridor to the back office.

“You good closing on your own Matty?”

The bartender, Matty, you assume, nods with an easy smile.

“Sure, Ed.”

Eddie releases your hand to grab a backpack and a helmet. He tosses the bag to you saying, “Throw your purse in there, you don’t mind wearing that on the bike, right?”

“I really am fine walking home, I haven’t fallen or stumbled in years,” You say as he turns back around, “That’s how good I am.”

“It’s not your walking capabilities I’m worried about here, sugar.” He holds the black helmet in his hands, fingers drumming on the closed visor. “It’s the creeps.”

“This from you, the man that very nearly creeped me out earlier tonight?”

Matty fails to stifle his laugh from the desk.

Eddie rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Yeah, laugh it up newbie.” Taking you by the shoulder, he steers you toward the service entrance and you find yourself not even trying to come up with excuses anymore.

Well, except for:

“Oh, you meant bike as in motorcycle.”

He snorts from behind you, finishing the job of zipping the backpack, now containing your purse, and looping the straps around your shoulders.

“Well it’s certainly not a pennyfarthing, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“I’ve never been on one before.”

“No time like the present.”

Clapping you on the shoulder, he turns you around to face him and pries a hair tie from his wrist. You take it from his outstretched hand, your fingertips brushing for a fleeting moment. Without much fuss, you throw your hair into a loose bun at the nape of your neck.

“May I?” Eddie asks, presenting you with the helmet.

After you nod, he deftly flips the helmet around and takes a step closer to place it on your head. It’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll have to do. He has you shake your head left and right, then up and down before he’s satisfied you won’t crack your skull on the pavement.

In a few strides he’s near the bike, and mounting it in one fluid motion. His legs are long and pretty fucking perfect for, oh you don’t know, maybe straddling later yourself.

But now you’re just getting ahead of things.

You follow his lead and step toward the bike; taking his offered hand as you find your seat behind him.

“So,” Eddie says leaning to start up the bike, once he’s satisfied that your feet are on the foot rest. “All you really gotta do is hold on.”

Your hands go to his shoulders and you can feel them rise with his soft chuckle.

“That’s cute,” He says, taking both your hands in his and moving them to his waist, which causes you to bridge the few inches of space between your bodies to accomodate the movement.

I mean, there are worse things than having your tits smooshed up against some guy’s back on a motorcycle, right?

“You good?”

And you can barely hear him over the rev of the engine, so you nod and raise your voice to rattle out your address. He half-turns toward you, eyes finding yours through the visor of the helmet and giving you a wink.

He grips the handles, pulls the clutch, and kicks off.

“Alright, sugar, let’s get you home.”

Holding on for dear life, you quickly learn that as he leans, you lean. There’s a lot of movement on a bike that you hadn’t anticipated, so much so that Eddie’s shirt, at some point, rides up his abdomen. Too busy gawking at the sights and sounds of your first motorcycle ride, you don’t notice the subtle warming of your fingertips against his bare skin until it’s too late.

You were confident that the sound of the engine would drown out the unfortunate squeak that escaped your mouth, but at the feeling of Eddie’s stomach muscles contracting in what could only be laughter, and the shaking of his shoulders, now has you second guessing yourself.

Oh, well.

Rolling to a smooth stop in front of your apartment, he kills the engine and helps you off the bike.

Back on solid ground, you slough off the backpack and unzip it to grab your purse and keys. You pass it back to him and remove the helmet, mourning briefly the soft scent of tobacco and clary sage— his cologne, maybe?

Hooking a finger through the hair tie at the back of your neck, you pull it out, and shake your hair from its confines before offering it back to him.

Eddie just smiles with a shake of his head, “Nah, keep it— I gotta million of ‘em.”

He stays seated on the bike, eyes whiskey-warm and crinkling at the edges. With a shrug, you push the elastic up and around your hand to settle on your wrist.

It’s relatively quiet for a winter’s night around the campus, all the undergrads gone home for the holidays and not expected back until mid-January. A brisk wind blows and a shiver runs through you, one hand rubbing furiously along your arm, while the other grips the helmet resting against your hip.

All the while, Eddie simply sits there to drink you in. Eyes roving across the full of your cheeks, the elegant slope of your neck and the necklaces strung there. Your hair wild and waving in the breeze. And even if it’s cold outside, he can’t bring himself to notice— not with you looking like that standing there before him.

“Hey, Eddie,” You say, stepping toward him. Taking the helmet in both hands, you put it on for him and have half a mind to make him go through the head shaking nonsense he was adamant over back at the bar. But it fits him perfectly, just your luck.

Before stepping back and retreating into your apartment, he takes your hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze. You can feel the heat skittering under your skin, terribly welcome in the cold morning air.

Squeezing his fingers back in return, you part with a soft, “Happy New Year.”

He watches as you open the front door of your ground floor apartment, giving him a shy wave as a dog barks from somewhere behind you. He can see your lips moving as you turn back to say something to the dog, smiling as you bend to greet them.

Kicking off as the door closes and the lights flick on in your home, Eddie cruises down the deserted street with a smile on his face.

And maybe, this could turn out to be his year after all.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #fic: ml #Spotify

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

wait. i just realized. i might have been asked on a date or something similar a few months ago. and i refused. oh no.

#i don't know if i've told you about this girl i went to school with (well kinda. she's 2 year youngers but we were aware of our existance) #(she was in the school band for starters. and she's in a band still!) #anyways. i don't know if i told you about how she was one of the candidates for the local psoe party for the municipal elections #and how she actually is now a concejala (councellor? what are town hall members called in english?) #well i was interacting with her a lot during the campaign and we talked and stuff #cause i was really proud of her and also. psoe is as left as my town is capable of going so i voted for them and was interested in their #proposals and stuff #anyways she asked me to come to a meeting or to have some drinks a couple of times #i said no to all of them. like a fool #and she sometimes likes my stories (i also like hers but cause i genuinelly like her stuff!!) #i thought she had a partner but. yesterday she showed up on bumbl #e #i panicked a lot and i swiped left (so a 'no') #and now i'm realising what might had happened #i wouldn't be against dating her she's super pretty but i just. never imagined i was like in her league lol #tbh this could all be me conflating things and she never had any romantic intention #we'll never know i guess <3

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #call of duty smut

[pucksandpower]

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

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[awearywritersworld]

"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

#m!writes!smut #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smut

[yourgothiccqueen]

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

[thot4ellie]

oh sweetheart

pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au

word count: 1.9k

rating: 18+

warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)

summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.

authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)

PART 1 | part 2

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.

you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.

it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.

after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.

you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.

jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.

you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.

"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.

he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.

"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.

the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.

the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.

"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.

"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.

you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.

"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.

"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.

"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.

"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.

"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.

suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.

you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.

jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.

dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.

you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.

thats her.

thats the girl who saved you outside.

the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.

the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.

you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.

...5

...4

...3

...2

as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #pedro pascal #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou2 #tlog #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #joel and ellie #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams series #joel tlou #thot4elleific

[youunravelme]

this is how you fall in love

author's note: let it be known, i've never been to jfk airport, and it probably shows. sue me. also sorry this took SO FUCKING LONG to write. it lowkey put me in a writing slump because it's just a monster but i hope you can forgive me. this fic is literally 18,952 words long, so i apologize in advance.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat.

warnings: cursing (this is a given at this point), mean girl behavior?

you weren't quite sure why you said it.

actually.

scratch that.

you were 1000 percent sure why you said it.

you could not, would not be the family embarrassment yet again.

if you got one more wedding invitation in the mail, you were going to scream. you were happy for all your college friends, really, you were, but it was the presence of this one particular wedding invitation from your cousin angela that had you seething.

mainly because it was accompanied by a phone call from your mother.

"i told angela that she didn't need to put a plus one down for you, but she insisted. so don't feel bad if you don't have someone, sweetheart. plenty of people are still single at your age."

maybe it was the irritation at your mother's condescension, or the exhaustion from being the butt of every family joke for the past five years, that had you saying something you wish you could take back.

"i do have someone, mom!"

her scoff resonated through the speaker. "honey, you don't have to lie--"

"i'm not lying! it's mat!"

the pause that followed your white lie was louder than the new york city streets just outside your apartment.

"your friend, mat? you told me you'd never see him that way!" she accused.

you shrugged, despite her not seeing you. and thank goodness for that, she'd immediately know you were lying if she could see your face. "something just clicked."

"how long has this been going on?"

"a few months."

"and you never told us?"

"we wanted to keep it lowkey until we knew this was something real."

your mom hummed but seemed appeased. "well, i can't wait to meet him. you are coming down a week early, right?"

in hindsight, you should've told mat immediately instead of postponing it until two weeks before you had to leave. but he was out of town for games, then you had a work trip, and then time slipped away from you.

but there was nothing you and a tub of bubblegum ice cream couldn't accomplish together.

at least in matters of mathew barzal.

he answered the door a few seconds after you knocked. a smile overtook his face until his eyes dropped down to the ice cream in your hands.

"what do you need?" he asked with a quirked brow.

"who says i need something?" you blinked in what you hoped was an innocent manner.

mat sighed and opened the door wide enough for you to come in. "because you have ice cream, and you showed up at my door unannounced." but he took the ice cream from your hands anyway. "how'd you even know i was home?"

you shrugged and plopped onto his couch. "i checked your location."

mat blinked. "you have my location? since when?"

you rolled your eyes. "you make me sound like a stalker, you made me share my location with you when i was out drinking with my coworkers and i demanded to have yours as well."

you didn't get to see mat's face because he was walking into his kitchen to put the ice cream away.

"so why are you here?" he asked once he returned.

"can't i just come over and visit my best friend?"

mat blinked. "no. you want something. what is it?"

you threw yourself back into the couch cushions and groaned, tossing an arm over your eyes. "you're not allowed to judge me."

"well that doesn't sound fun."

"mat, i'm serious, okay? i got myself into some shit and you're the only one i trust to help me out."

you felt the couch cushions sink next to you. a hand removed your arm from your face. "are you safe?" he asked. "are you in trouble? do we need to get the police involved?"

you looked at the concern on his face and sat up immediately. "no! no no no no no! it's not like that, i just happened to lie to my mom and need your help."

"why would you need my help to lie to your mom? you're not making any sense."

you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. "i told my mom we were dating so i had someone to bring to my cousin's wedding."

a pause, followed by mat's obnoxious laughter.

"you told your mom we're dating?" he choked out between cackles. "how did you manage not to vomit after saying that?"

you rolled your eyes at his barbs. "you were the first person to come to mind! what else should i have done?"

"jeez i don't know, told the truth?"

you flopped back onto the couch again. "no, mat, you don't understand. you didn't hear how she was talking to me! 'plenty of people are still single at your age!' i mean the gall of that woman!"

mat laughed again. "'gall?'"

"yes, mat, some of us use words bigger than a fifth grader's vocabulary."

"careful, that's no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?"

you scoffed. "boyfriend? are you--" then it hit you. "you'll do it? you'll be the fake love of my life?" you jumped off the couch.

mat smiled and leaned back into the cushions. "ask nicely."

you rolled your eyes but a smile was already pulling at your lips. "mathew michael paul barzal, will you please be my boyfriend?"

he crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. "calm down, you don't have to beg."

"i would throw something at you, but you're already doing me such a huge favor."

"you owe me one," he smirked.

oh, you'd owe him big.

one week till going home

"okay, so how did we meet?" you and mat were seated at a booth in a coffee shop the both of you liked to frequent.

"no need to reinvent the wheel," he said. "let's just tell them the truth."

"that we met at a bar through mutual friends? that's so unromantic!"

mat rolled his eyes. "we're not a fucking rom com, sweetheart. we're lying to your family and being as honest as possible makes the lying look more convincing."

you sighed and sat back in your seat. honestly, you had no reason to be frustrated. mat was doing you a favor, not the other way around. and with it being the offseason, it wasn't lost on you how much mat was giving up to play house with you. he could be visiting his own family instead of lying to yours.

yet here he was, sitting across from you with his disgusting black coffee.

you must've been staring at his cup because he snapped his fingers in your face. "what? what're you staring at?"

your face twisted in disgust. "can't believe you like that shit. no cream or sugar?"

mat eyed the frappuccino nestled in your hands. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize milkshakes qualify as coffee nowadays."

"you're just mad that my drink tastes good."

mat rolled his eyes. "keep telling yourself that."

you looked down at your phone at your notes app agenda. you deleted the intricate backstory bullet point and moved onto bullet point number two.

"okay, how long have we been dating?"

mat blinked. "you're the liar, you tell me."

god, why were you friends with him in the first place?

"i told my mom we've been together for a few months but i'm not sure what constitutes a few."

mat shrugged. "let's say we got together around the time of my injury when you nursed me back to health and realized how handsome i was."

you rolled your eyes, but wrote it down in your notes app anyway. "okay so where was our first date?"

"am i the one who has to answer all of these questions? who says we even need all of this? it's not like they're gonna lock us in a room and interrogate us separately."

"my brother would say otherwise." mat gestured for you to go on. "when we met his girlfriend, my family immediately separated them so they could bombard them with questions. but since everyone will be focused on my cousin's wedding, we should be good."

"who should i be worried about?"

you thought for a moment, in your opinion, your entire family was a concern in terms of introducing them to mat.

there was your brother, who could be an ass in a heartbeat; though, when you thought about it, he'd probably just leave the two of you alone.

your dad and mom would probably ask a few questions. your grandmother would probably be too busy trying to stuff her cooking down his throat to really pose a problem.

if you were being honest, you were concerned about your cousin, angela.

she wasn't what you would call a "girl's girl." throughout your childhood, it was like she was competing against you in a competition you didn't want to be in. who had the bigger birthday, the most friends, the most boyfriends, the bigger house, the better car, the better college.

it used to bother you more when you were younger. the way she'd flirt with your boyfriends or bribe your friends to hang out with her. it was made worse by the enabling of your parents and aunt.

"just keep an eye out for angela," was all you said.

mat's brow furrowed. "your cousin? why?"

you'd never fully told him about your less than perfect relationship with her, but considering the two of you were in a public setting and he wasn't your therapist? you kept that information to yourself and just shrugged.

"we don't have the best relationship."

mat seemed to understand you didn't want to speak on it anymore so he nodded and gestured to your phone. "is your phone ready to be seen by your family?"

"i'm sorry, what? why would my family go through my phone?"

"they'll at least want to see that i'm your lock screen, you're mine, after all."

"i am not." but mat held up his phone and sure enough it was a picture of you and him after one of his games, wearing his jersey with your arms wrapped around his waist. "you're shitting me, why?"

mat shrugged and locked his phone, placing it down on the table. "i looked good in the photo."

you wanted to call bullshit, but he was already doing you a favor, so you let it go.

"fine," you said. "i'll change my lock screen." you scrolled through your photos until you found one you liked.

"can i see it?" he asked.

you immediately held your phone to your chest. "no!"

"i showed you mine!"

"that sounds like a you problem!"

"but it's not fair!" he whined.

"life's not fair, barzy."

he rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, knowing full well he could make you show him just by bringing up the favor he was doing for you. but for some reason, he decided to let it go.

"anything else?" mat asked before checking his watch.

you looked down at your notes app and couldn't find a reason to get him to stay. "no, i think that's it. why, do you have somewhere to be?"

he shrugged. "just meeting up with a couple of my teammates."

"during the offseason? don't you get enough of each other during the regular season?"

"sure, but we miss each other sometimes. i mean we go from seeing all the time to nothing. plus you got me staying in the city a little longer than normal."

you rolled your eyes. "you didn't have to say yes."

but he smiled anyway. "i know." he stood up from the table and knocked on it once. "text me the dates of travel this week so i can put them on my calendar. i'll get the plane tickets. let me know if you need anything else!"

he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and then he was gone.

an older woman stood up and walked towards you and smiled. "i just wanna say, you and your boyfriend are so cute together!"

maybe the whole fake dating thing would be easier than you thought.

going home

you slept over at mat's the night before leaving for the airport because it would make things easier on marty who agreed to drive you both to the airport. you weren't exactly sure how mat convinced marty to do it, but you made it a habit of not asking questions you didn't want the answer to.

"thanks again for the ride, marty," you said from the backseat.

originally, you and mat were fighting over who got to sit in the front, but not in the way others might expect. he said it was polite to let ladies sit in the front (which, when has he ever called you a lady?). you said he had the longer legs and needed the space.

marty groaned at the both of you to stop wasting his gas and to get in the damn car, i swear to god, barzy.

you got the backseat simply because you got in and shut the door before mat could pull you out.

"where are you and barzy headed?" marty asked.

"back to my hometown. my cousin is getting married," you supplied before he had time to ask follow up questions.

"and you chose barzy to be your date?"

you awkwardly chuckled. "tito was already in canada and i didn't have it in me to ask him to come back to the states."

"oh fuck off," mat said from the front seat.

the drive continued with you sporadically staring out the window or tuning into the conversation mat and marty were having about offseason workouts and the nba finals. when marty pulled up to the airport, mat was the first one out, opening your door a beat later.

he grabbed both of your bags in his hands, saying a quick thanks to his teammate for the both of you before shutting the trunk.

"i can carry my bags, mat."

he laughed, but otherwise continued on like he hadn't heard you. if you were a better woman, or maybe someone who hadn't been friendzoned for the last few years, you would've acknowledged the veins in his arms popping out under the strain of your luggage.

but you'd been down that road before back before you were friends and just admiring a handsome stranger from across the bar.

look at how that turned out for you.

you were expecting to split up at TSA since you knew mat had pre check and you most certainly did not. you were expecting him to hand your bags over (a backpack and a carry on) and head in the pre check lane.

so imagine your surprise when he not only refused to hand your bags over, he continued walking to the normal security check.

"mat," you hissed, but he kept walking. "mat." you stood on your toes and grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking, but he brushed you off. so you stopped moving altogether until he noticed you weren't following him anymore.

"will you come on? you're gonna make us late!" he turned around, looking exasperated for some reason, like he wasn't the one being weird.

"mat, you need to go that way." you pointed to the pre check area.

he blinked at you, rolled his eyes, and turned around and kept walking.

"mathew michael paul barzal, where are you going?" you called after him, practically running to catch up to his long strides.

"i thought it was obvious, i'm headed to security," he deadpanned.

"but your security is that way mr. pre check."

"i'm not doing pre check. i'm going through regular security like you."

"why?"

mat glanced down at you and by that look alone, you would've thought you were the dumbest person alive in his mind. "please don't play dumb, it's not cute."

"i'm not playing dumb! and i don't care about being cute!"

"i'm not going to abandon you at tsa. i'd feel much better if we stick together, happy?" he stopped walking altogether and fixed you with a look. one that kept you rooted to your spot. "you happy, now?" you nodded. "good, let's go."

you followed after him and got in line.

tsa took a total of 20 minutes to get through. mat insisted you go first which meant you put your backpack on and grabbed your carry on before he could.

"you're ridiculous," he said as the both of you started the trek towards your gate.

"you sound like my mother," you quipped.

the rest of your walk was spent in peaceful silence. the both of you made it to the gate with about thirty minutes until boarding, which was the latest you'd ever arrived to a gate before.

you and mat argued about when to arrive the night before.

he won.

mainly because he was the one to tell marty when to pick you up from his apartment.

it felt like no time had passed when the gate attendant started speaking over the intercom. instinctively, you zoned out. you weren't an idiot, you knew when to board. this wasn't your first rodeo.

but mat started standing up when the gate attendant started calling for the first group.

you tugged his shirt sleeve. "mat, what the hell?"

it was a good thing your family wasn't there to see all the drama that unfolded between the two of you in the airport. anyone who watched the two of you since you'd arrived wouldn't believe you were in love.

not when you were actively getting on each other's nerves.

"will you stop?" he swatted your hand away only to grab it a second later to tug you into a standing position.

"what are you doing? we don't get on the plane yet--"

but he cut you off when he shoved a plane ticket in your hand with the words first class written on it.

"mat..." you trailed off. "what is this?"

he glanced down at you and rolled his eyes. "don't act like you've never seen a plane ticket before."

"asshole. why is it first class?"

he shrugged but wouldn't meet you eye. "i get more leg room."

"but why wouldn't you just put me in economy? mat i can't afford to pay you back for this!" you were panicking and beginning to think about how much you'd have to save before you could venmo him the full amount. you were about to pull your phone out to see how much it would cost before he grabbed your hand again, this time squeezing it in his own.

"don't worry about it," he said calmly. "i wasn't gonna let you sit alone, and i have the money for it, so i did it."

"but i can't afford--"

"i was never gonna let you pay me back anyways, so don't even think about how much it cost." while still holding onto your hand, he guided the both of you over to the gate entrance where your tickets were scanned so you could board.

you were sitting in first class moments later.

mat let you take the window seat while he got the aisle, saying it gave him more space, but you liked to think it was because he knew you liked watching the changing landscapes.

when the plane took off, mat leaned his head back in the seat and plugged his airpods in, closing his eyes as he did so. you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting yours, stupidly thinking that maybe mat would want to talk when he'd been uncharacteristically quiet the entire trip thus far.

you sat back in your seat and looked out the window as the clouds passed by. worries of how your family would react to mat, or worse, how mat would react to your family, filling your mind.

god you didn't think you could stomach losing him. in fact, maybe your entire idea was too risky. you'd take being the butt of the family jokes for years to come if it meant you got to keep mat. if you lost him--

your hand was squeezed twice.

you looked away from the window to mat who was holding your hand again and had an airpod out.

"you're thinking too loud," he said. "you okay?"

you nodded but it was clear he didn't believe you. nonetheless, he didn't push. instead, he held an airpod out to you. the tones of some pop song filled your ear.

mat didn't let go of your hand for the entire rest of the plane ride.

as soon as the plane hit the tarmac, mat was taking his airpod back and stuffing both into the case and back into his backpack. you texted your mom to let her know you'd just landed and would be getting an uber to her house.

while you were texting your mother, mat was grabbing your bags and holding up the line so you could slide out.

he didn't even acknowledge the glares and eye rolls being shot at both of you.

you and mat started your walk off the plane and towards the exit of the airport.

"so remind me who i need to be concerned about meeting? is it your dad?"

you laughed. your father was a lot of things, intimidating was not even remotely close to one. "not even close. it's angela that's the problem the problem."

"angela's the one getting married, right?" you nodded. "why are you concerned about her? she'll be too focused on getting married."

you laughed. actually, cackled. "she's had this planned out since we were seven. i'd bet my first born child that she has all of this finalized months ago."

"anything else i should know?" he asked.

you thought to yourself. what could you say about angela that wouldn't be mean but still be true?

"just....stay close. we need to go everywhere together, understood?"

he furrowed his brows. "even to the bathroom?"

you thought back to that one time in 11th grade when you didn't follow your boyfriend to the bathroom. "especially then," you said.

"got it. stick to you like glue."

you were staring at your phone and opening up your uber app when mat nudged you, but you ignored him.

but he nudged you before just grabbing your phone out of your hand.

"what?!" you asked.

he pointed. "is that your mom?"

a cold chill went down your back as you made eye contact with the woman who was your carbon copy holding a sign with yours and mat's (albeit spelled wrong) names on it. she was smiling and waving erratically with the hand that wasn't holding onto the poster.

"oh my god."

before you could even stop him, mat was walking towards your mom with an award winning smile. to your absolute horror, he placed your bags on the ground and allowed her to wrap him in a hug.

you zombie walked over to them, like you were trapped in some fever dream.

"honey!" she squealed when she pulled away from mat. "you didn't tell me how handsome mat was!" she said not so quietly.

god you wanted to die. curl up and die right there on the airport floor.

mat was snickering into his fist at your reaction.

maybe you should've asked beau instead.

home

your mom parked the car in the driveway; she nearly swooned when mat opened your car door for you and grabbed all of your bags.

"such a gentleman," was all she said before heading up the front porch.

the two of you followed your mother into your house where your dad, your brother, and his girlfriend sat in the living room.

"mat," you started. "this is my dad, my brother cody, and his girlfriend harper. guys, this is mat."

"i would wave, but my hands are full."

"oh honey, stop being rude and show mat to your room."

you blinked. "you mean, our rooms, right?" your mother and father were very traditional in that sense. so you'd banked on having to share a bathroom at most with mat.

not an entire bedroom.

not a tiny bed.

"we're not gonna act like the two of you haven't slept together already. i was born at night, but not last night," your father said from his position in the recliner.

you could hear mat choking on air while your brother cackled.

"besides," your mother cleared her throat. "cody's old room has been converted into an office, so that just leaves the queen bed in your room, sweetheart. that won't be a problem, will it?"

you shook your head, though you very much wanted to curl up in a hole and die. "no ma'am, that'll be fine."

your father crossed his hands over his stomach and leveled mat with a heated stare. "just because i know the two of you have slept together does not mean under any circumstances that it should happen under this roof. do you understand me, son?"

mat nodded, though he looked the most uncomfortable you'd ever seen him. "yes sir."

"oh honey," your mother started. "let them go settle in. dinner will be in an hour."

you led mat up the stairs and to your childhood bedroom. you finally gave up on offering to help carry the bags. mat, for the most part, looked happy to do something with his hands all things considered.

the room hadn't changed much since you moved out and away from home. the walls were still lilac, the carpet was still cream.

but the dolls you had growing up were missing, and for that, you were thankful.

mat dropped the bags on the ground and shut the door behind him. his shoulders relaxed for the first time since getting off the airplane.

"your family's nice," he said.

you immediately flocked to him until there was only about a foot between you. "mat, i'm so sorry. i didn't think they'd make us share a room, they never let cody do that growing up."

he smiled and placed his hands on your shoulders. "it's okay. it's just for a week. we've fallen asleep together on the couch before, it'll be just like that, just in a bed, okay? and i promise i won't stare when you get changed."

you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "this is already so overwhelming."

"hey, we're the dream team, okay? i'm the best liar ever. we've got this in the bag."

and when he sounded so confident, how could you possibly believe otherwise?

the two of you got settled in your room before completely kicking off your shoes, changing into comfier clothes (with you in the closet and mat in the room) and settling into bed just to scroll on your phones. your mom came knocking before too long to tell you dinner was ready.

dinner was a pot of spaghetti, your mom's best dish. everyone was seated by the time you and mat made it into the dining room. mat, ever the performer, pulled your chair out and took the seat to your right, choosing to sit next to your mom rather than your father.

"are you waiting for a grand invitation? dig in," your father grunted. his irritation immediately kicked everyone into gear, with your family passing around garlic bread and filling plates with pasta.

the table was quiet aside from the sounds of forks scraping against the plates.

"so mat," cody started. "what do you do for a living?"

"oh," he said, wiping his mouth. "i play professional hockey."

"an athlete?" your mother questioned. "i thought you learned from the last one."

you about dropped your head into your plate. "mom...."

"sorry, sorry, i know we said we wouldn't talk about him, but he's going to be a part of the family soon."

mat's neck should've snapped from how fast he whipped it to look at you.

you nudged his knee under the table with yours. later, you hoped he'd understand.

harper cleared her throat. "what team do you play for?" she asked. "i grew up a devils fan, so i have to know."

"islanders," mat smirked, like it was something to be proud of, and to him, it was. to your family though? they were more concerned with the upcoming college football season to really care.

"oh god," harper replied. "at least you don't play for the rangers."

mat took a sip of his water. "agreed."

"do you still have all your teeth?" cody asked.

you inhaled and started choking on what you guessed was a spaghetti noodle. mat reached over and immediately started patting your back quite forcefully until your airway was cleared.

"yeah," mat said. "still have all my teeth."

"how did you two meet?" your mom asked. clearly your family was in interrogation mode, but at the very least these were questions you prepared for.

"at a bar through some mutual friends," mat answered, knowing good and well they weren't looking for you to say anything, their eyes were solely focused on your best friend.

"and out of all the girls, you picked this one? did you know she couldn't tie her shoes till she was in third grade?" cody laughed.

mat didn't.

which was odd, because he was usually the first one to poke fun at you.

"you wet the bed until you were nine," you shot back, ready to diffuse the tension.

a loud laugh burst from harper's mouth. not even her hand over her lips could quite muffle the volume of it.

cody rolled his eyes but held his hands up. "laugh all you want, harp. you chose this."

she smiled and leaned into him. "i did."

you stared until mat's hand landed on your thigh, effectively snapping you out of your daze. you looked at him and gave him a small smile before eating more of your mom's cooking.

dinner was over shortly thereafter, with small talk being made between the six of you. when it ended, mat was the first one up, grabbing both of your plates, while you grabbed the cups, and followed you into the kitchen.

"oh no, you're not washing dishes," you said when you saw him put the plates in the sink. but he made no sound of hearing you. "mat!" you hissed before placing your cups in the sink and grabbing him by the arm. "you're not washing dishes! you're a guest!"

"neither of you are," your mother walked in. "you just got here. your father and i will clean up dinner, the two of you can go relax and unwind. i'm sure you've had a long day."

"i can help--" mat started.

but your mom started twirling a hand towel with a smile on her face. "don't make me smack you with this, mat." and the very sight of that coupled with the lighthearted threat had you both sprinting out of the kitchen. you'd grown up in that house long enough to remember the sting of the towel on your legs when you annoyed your mother.

you also remembered trying to get back at her once and failing completely.

your father passed the two of you as he walked into the kitchen while your brother and his girlfriend took their spots on the couch. it only left one seat left in the room, your dad's chair. but combined with the air travel, the early morning, you were left exhausted and nothing sounded better than showering and crawling into bed.

"we're gonna head upstairs, long day and all," you said to cody and harper, the inference was that they would tell your parents.

mat followed you up the stairs and into your childhood bedroom. "you take the first shower," you instructed. "i have to wash my hair and it'll take longer."

he nodded and gathered his clothes while you searched your bag for a set of modest pajamas. he finished his shower in about twenty minutes.

you hopped in the shower and went through your routine, washing your hair and body before stepping out and drying off. when you got back to your room, mat was laying in bed under the covers watching the tv on your dresser.

in true fashion, he was watching espn.

"don't you get enough of this during the season? i didn't even know you liked baseball." you crawled into bed and cuddled into mat's clothed chest like you always did.

mat shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "i was waiting for you to come back to decide what we should watch."

you hummed and buried your face into his shirt.

cuddling wasn't abnormal for the two of you, most movie nights at mat's place ended with you in similar positions. you were aware his friends made fun of him for it, but mat thrived off physical affection and you were all too willing to give it to him.

"just turn on a movie," you mumbled.

he selected a random mission impossible movie that you couldn't give two shits about. but when the movie and your fresh shower were coupled with mat running a hand up and down your back?

you were out like a light.

exploring the hometown -- the dress shop

it was an alarm that woke you up right as the sun rose. you groaned into your pillow, burying your face into the fabric. a warm arm tightened its grip around your waist. for a moment you freaked out, trying to wriggle away from the person who had you locked in, but the person grumbled and groaned.

"if you keep moving like that, i'm going to need a cold shower. so stop."

oh.

mat.

oh.

you immediately stopped moving and relaxed back into the bed.

"we need to talk," he said.

"can we talk later? it's barely even morning."

but mat had no intention of letting you sleep in. he used his arm to forcibly turn you over to face him. when you looked him in the face, his hair was mussed and in his eyes. before you could even stop yourself, you hand was reaching and moving the hair out of the way.

"what did your mom mean when she said the last athlete you dated was joining the family soon?"

you groaned and shoved your head into his chest, but he lightly pushed your forehead away from him so he could look you in the eyes.

"i'm serious," he said.

you sighed. "i dated this guy in 11th grade, his name was owen and he played football. he was the starting tight end and a grade older than me." you avoided looking at him and instead traced the letters on his islanders t-shirt with your fingers. "things were great, he was nice and all, so i invited him to my birthday party. he went to the bathroom, and i noticed he was gone for awhile so when i went to look for him, he was making out with angela."

mat's grip tightened on your waist. he said your name quietly, but you shook your head.

"it's fine," you said. "i told my parents but angela didn't get in trouble, not really at least. my aunt pressured me to make up with her for the sake of 'family' and 'feminism,' so i accepted her half assed apology and congratulated her when they got engaged a year ago."

"what a bitch," was all mat said.

"mat..."

but he was sitting up and pulling you with him. "no, don't brush this off. what she did was shitty. and your family just expected you to forgive her and watch her get married to him?"

"mat, it happened years ago. forgive and forget."

"i think you mean resent and remember," he grumbled.

"can we just go back to sleep? it's too early for this."

mat huffed but sank back into the mattress.

the two of you fell back asleep until light was hitting you in the eyes. "get up, sleepy heads! you can't sleep the day away!"

you groaned at the sound of your mother's cheering, or maybe it was the bright ceiling light blinding you, either way, the way you woke up the first time was better than this.

"mom, what time is it?"

"a little after 8."

you and mat groaned in unison. "you couldn't let us sleep in?"

"there are things that need to get done, sweetheart. do either of you have something to wear to the wedding?"

"mom, it's too early for this."

she sighed and probably rolled her eyes, something you would notice if you weren't too busy burying your head in the fabric of mat's shirt. in turn, he was burying his face in your hair.

"fine. you two can sleep the day away, but i expect the both of you for dinner tonight and to be dressed appropriately for the family dinner tomorrow." she left shortly thereafter.

"family dinner?" mat asked into your hair. "how is that different from regular dinner?"

"it's with the entire family, not just mine. you'll meet all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents there."

"sounds like a lot."

"it is. they did this when my cousin andy got married two years ago."

mat hummed into the top of your head. "sounds exhausting."

"if you don't wanna see me for a month after this week is over, i wouldn't blame you."

he brought you closer to him, which you didn't think was possible considering you two were already pretty close. "i always wanna see you."

you smiled into his shirt, which you were pretty sure he could feel, but neither of you drew attention to it.

"we need to get up," you sighed, pushing away from him just a little.

"i'm already up."

on cue you felt something around your hip that had you squealing and falling out of bed laughing. "you absolute douche!" but it had no real bite since you were holding your stomach and rolling around on the floor laughing.

"what am i supposed to do when i wake up with a pretty girl pressed against me? ignore nature?"

you rolled your eyes and got up, searching through your bag for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "get dressed, asshole."

by the time you made it downstairs after taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, your mother had set out a few granola bars for breakfast.

"i would've made eggs and waffles, but i'm already swamped with helping your aunt, i just didn't have the energy this morning."

"thanks, mom," you smiled and kissed her cheek once before grabbing a granola bar.

"do you know what you're wearing to angela's wedding?" she asked.

you nodded while you chewed your bar. "i brought that blue dress i wore to cody's graduation."

your mom's face twisted into disgust. "that old thing? honey, you can do better than that."

you waited until your mother turned around to roll your eyes only to catch mat coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.

god he looked so good it should be criminal.

but instead of fawning over him, you just threw a granola bar at his chest with he caught with an ease. "what're we doing today?"

"shopping apparently," you grumbled.

"oh don't give him attitude, honey. you should've packed something more appropriate to the wedding instead of that ratty dress you brought."

"it's not ratty!" you weren't sure why you were defending a dress you didn't care about, you'd only grabbed the first dress you saw in your closet. maybe it was the fact that she was so quick to dismiss something you chose to wear.

"that dress is years old, sweetheart. it's time for something new."

"thanks for the constructive criticism, mom. you never fail to give it at the best times," you deadpanned. you glanced back at mat who was stuffing the granola bar in his mouth. "you ready to go?"

he nodded, still chewing as you started walking towards the door.

"dad! i'm taking your car." you grabbed the keys, then mat's hand, and tugged him out the door.

neither of you spoke until you were already five minutes down the road.

"are you okay?" mat asked, eyes warily staring at your from the passenger seat. "you're gripping the wheel pretty tight."

you looked down at your own hands and eased up. "she just--" you groaned. "she always does this, criticizes me or what i wear. i know she means well, but it's irritating."

"for what it's worth, i liked the blue dress."

you gave him a small smile. "the problem isn't you, mat, it's not even the dress. if my mom thinks it's ratty, angela definitely will. and at the end of the day, i think that's what my mom is trying to save me from."

"why doesn't she just tell angela to mind her own business?"

"question of the year," you grumbled before pulling into the parking lot of a local boutique.

the two of you got out and headed inside, though mat looked a little out of place. "what's the dress code for this wedding anyway?"

"i'm sure if you brought a dress shirt and some slacks, you'll be fine."

you looked around, occasionally checking the dresses on the racks, but nothing caught your eye.

"can i help you find anything?" that voice nearly stopped you in your tracks, it was someone you hadn't thought about since you left for college.

you turned around and smiled at the woman in front of you. last time you saw her, you were standing in matching caps and gowns. you sat next to each other at graduation, and before that, you shared a few classes together. if it wasn't for the bright red hair and the comments your mom had made in the past about her staying in town, you never would've recognized her.

you hoped she wouldn't recognize you.

but she said your name in shock and smiled. "it's been so long!" she said. "back in town for angela's wedding?"

and really, you had no reason to dread this conversation, meredith was as nice as she was in high school. but you weren't sure if anyone was ever this happy to run into someone they knew from high school.

speaking of, you couldn't even remember why you weren't closer to her in high school.

"meredith, hi," you replied. "yes, i'm in town for her wedding. are you going?"

meredith nodded and smiled. "i'm actually her maid of honor."

of course she was.

that explained why you weren't close friends in high school.

"that's so exciting!" you smiled through a clenched jaw.

"i was shocked to hear you weren't in the bridal party though. is everything okay?" meredith sounded genuinely concerned, and while she was sweet, you never remembered her being very observant.

you shrugged. "we've grown apart since i moved away, it's water under the bridge."

meredith nodded until her gaze shifted to behind you were you assumed mat had just appeared. "who's this?"

"this is--"

"i'm mat," he held his hand out to shake. "her boyfriend."

meredith shakily grabbed his hand, you could see it tremble in his grip. "meredith," she practically swooned. a moment passed before she let go of his hand.

you had to keep from rolling your eyes. you were no stranger to mat's effect on women but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.

"we're looking for a dress for her to wear to the wedding," mat explained as his arm snaked around your waist. "i think she looks amazing in anything, but if you could find her something summery that matches her complexion, maybe a nice sundress, that would be very helpful."

you looked at mat like he'd grown a second and third head while meredith scrambled off to find something to fit his description. "are you okay?"

"why wouldn't i be?"

"you just listed of a theme of clothing without even batting an eyelash."

mat shrugged. "i was just being efficient. if you don't like what she picks out, we can always find something else or go somewhere else. but i thought the summery vibe would look nice with what i packed."

"and what did you pack? a white shirt and black slacks?"

"guess you'll have to find out in a few days," he quipped before lightly booping your nose.

meredith came back with an arm full of dresses and ushered the both of you back to the dressing rooms. she handed the articles of clothing to you and whisked herself away citing that she'd be around if you needed anything.

which was perfectly fine with you, it meant you didn't have an audience to trying on dresses.

"try the green one on first!" mat called as you shut the door behind you.

"you're not running the show here, barzal. as much as you would like to think otherwise."

you put the green one on first anyway.

you looked in the mirror, not sure if you liked the sleeves or the cut of the dress. was it too short for a wedding? it felt too casual.

"are you gonna show me? i'm assuming it doesn't take ten years for you to put on a dress, sweetheart," mat said.

"i'm not doing a fashion show for you, barzy."

"your boyfriend would like very much to see what you're getting, baby."

you rolled your eyes, mainly because he had a point. but amidst your irritation, hesitancy rose up but you didn't know why. mat had never given you a reason to be insecure, he was more than affirming about your place in his life and your appearance. you had no reason to be insecure, but yet it was rising up anyway.

still, you opened the door.

you poked your head out to see mat sitting on his phone until he heard the creak of the door. "well, let me see you!" he said.

you came out from behind the door as confidently as you could manage.

only for mat to let out a low whistle.

"oh shut up," you whined.

"you look good, baby," he smirked. "almost too good to wear out in public." you flushed under his scrutinizing stare that seemed to linger on some areas more than others and the nickname made heat slowly crawl up your neck.

"you're such a flatterer."

"just calling it like i see it, honey."

"will you quit it with the nicknames?" you covered your face with your hands.

"am i embarrassing you, baby?" he asked, voice much closer now. you didn't know why until you felt two hands on your waist.

"no."

mat pulled your hands down and smirked as he placed his palms back on your waist. "liar."

you rolled your eyes. "do you like the dress or not?"

"it's not about my opinion, do you like it?"

you all but stomped your foot in frustration. "mat," you whined. "what was the point of coming out here if you're just going to defer to my opinion?"

he shrugged like it wasn't bothering him to be that close to you; unlike you, whose heart was racing a mile a minute. "because i like to see dresses on pretty women, specifically you."

you shoved him away with a light push on his chest. the skirt of the dress bunching up a bit as his grip was pulled away.

"lemme see the next one!" he called as you walked back into the dressing room.

you tried on three more dresses, all of them garnering a similar reaction from mat, but none really feeling like the dress you should be wearing. none of them were nice enough to wear to the wedding without your mother, aunt, or angela saying something smart.

your hope was diminishing when you got to the final dress. it was plain in comparison to the others as far as beading and lace went, just a simple navy blue dress with a deep v and a small slit up to mid thigh. but you tried it on anyway.

"i don't know about this one, but i kinda like it. i wanted to know what you think," you said as you came out the dressing room.

mat looked up from his phone.

only for his jaw to drop.

you shifted your weight from foot to foot, back and forth, as you waited for a comment from him. mat, in all your time as friends, was never hesitant to share his opinion, but the longer he stayed silent, the more fearful you got that maybe this dress wasn't the one you should be wearing.

"do you not like it? i can--"

"no, you're getting it." he stood up and called meredith over who seemed to have been hovering just out of sight, like she was waiting for that exact moment. "she's getting this one, can you ring it up?"

meredith smiled but looked back and forth between you two. "of course, she'll have to take it off but--"

"mat, are you sure? i'm not even sure about this."

"baby," there he went, using another pet name. "you look fantastic, and even if you didn't, which you do, i took one look at your face and could tell you loved this dress. you're getting it." he said it so confidently you were inclined to believe him.

you started reaching for the tag on the dress. "how much is it--"

he ripped the tag off and handed it to meredith along with his card. "will you ring this up for us while she gets dressed, meredith?" he asked.

"mat, you don't have to pay--"

“let’s be honest, this is more for me than you." he said it so confidently, how could you possibly say no to him? "go get dressed," he said. "i'll be out here."

you quickly changed into your other clothes and grabbed the dress on your way out. mat quickly took the dress out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you didn't think anything of it until he pulled you in and placed a kiss on the side of your head.

you would've read into it had meredith not been in plain sight.

he must've done it to keep up the act.

meredith took the dress and wrapped it in a box that mat refused to let you carry, just like he refused to let you see the receipt. you told him that you'd just venmo him, but he ignored you all the way to the car.

preparation mode

your mom had ordered pizza for dinner which you and mat had taken up to your room. no one in your family batted an eyelash considering you both cited it as having a long day and wanting to unwind.

"so tell me about your family, the ones i haven't met yet," mat said through a mouth full of pizza.

you were currently wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole from his apartment a month ago and a pair of running shorts while you leaned back against the headboard. "well, there's my uncle mike, he's my mom's brother and the oldest in their family. for the most part he minds his business, he's on his fourth marriage and probably the last one because him and his wife don't even care to mask their indifference towards each other." you took a huge bite of your pizza and swallowed it before continuing. "then there's aunt patty who is angela's mom and she's about as nice as they come but also she's super passive aggressive and let's angela get away with everything."

"sounds like she's not actually nice, and you're just conditioned to think she is."

you rolled your eyes. "we don't have time to psychoanalyze my familial relationships, barzy."

"sure we do, if your aunt lets your bullying cousin get away with everything, then she's not actually nice."

"what does that make her then, smart ass?"

"a pawn." and he said it so lightly that you didn't even think about it for a moment. when you finally registered what he said, you furrowed your brows. so mat continued. "anyone who lets their child 'get away with everything' even when they're wrong is not a parent so much as they are a pawn in their child's game."

you blinked at him once. then a second time, wondering when your best friend had been replaced by your therapist.

"what?" he asked.

"i'm just trying to figure out what happened to my best friend. it's like you were replaced by dr. phil."

mat rolled his eyes. "i'm allowed to be wise on occasion."

"is it an occasion if it's never happened before?"

"what makes you say that?"

"i'm saying someone who gets hit in the face with a hockey stick or a puck every other game doesn't always have the best wisdom."

"but i do now! and that's what matters." he took another bite of pizza and hummed to himself.

"what?" you asked. "what was that hum about?"

"tell me about your other family members."

you explained how your cousin andrew (otherwise known as andy) was the oldest of angela's siblings and was married two years ago to his wife kelsey. they were distant from angela because she announced her engagement at kelsey's baby shower, but in true family fashion, that incident was pushed under the rug.

then there was thomas who was a year older than you and angela who had an affinity of sleeping around and generally not giving a shit about anyone or anything. he would say what he wanted when he wanted and for that reason, he was one of your favorite relatives. because, for the most part, he was the only one other than your grandmother who called angela out on her shit.

"what about your grandparents?"

you shrugged. "my grandfather died a few years ago and my grandmother is still around. she's honestly my favorite family member, though i'm sure that has nothing to do with me and cody being her favorites."

"oh i'm sure," mat said.

"and that's my mom's side of the family." you slapped your thighs and took a sip of your drink.

"what about you?"

you looked at him, confused at what he could possibly be talking about. "what about me?"

"you've told me about your family, tell me about you."

you scoffed. "mat, we're friends, what could you possibly want to know about me?"

he shrugged. "tell me something i wouldn't know. if you don't, i'm going to go downstairs and ask your mom to bring out the baby photos."

you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily, like it was some burden on you. "fine. when i was a kid, angela stuck bubble gum in my hair and i had to get a horrendous haircut. cody made fun of me until it grew out again."

"i bet you were still cute."

you got up from the bed and picked up a picture frame off your dresser. for some reason, your mother insisted on decorating your room with your worst moments, hence why your prom photo was hanging in the stair way. you handed the picture frame to mat who immediately smiled at your seven year old self smiling with two missing teeth and a shitty haircut.

"oh," he said.

"what?" you asked.

mat looked up with a huge smile on his face. "i definitely would've had a crush on you as a kid." you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "hey!" he protested. "i would've! you were cute!"

"shut up, you would not. i bet seven year old mat was the cutest boy in his grade and too worried about hockey to look at seven year old me."

"he might've been, i'd never know. but all i'm saying is if seven year old me knew seven year old you? he'd be in love. well, as much love as a seven year old can feel. in fact, i would've given you my favorite pokemon cards if you'd asked."

you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the idea, and how far it was from the truth. your classmates gave you hell for the way your hair looked, and it was such an odd and unbelievable story that no one took you seriously until the next school year when you grew your hair out.

"well, do you have a photo of you as a kid? it's not fair that you get unlimited access to all my childhood photos and i don't get to see you!"

mat rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. he flipped his phone around so you could see a photo of him in hockey gear with a big smile on his face. "aw mat," you cooed. "you were so cute."

"would you have had a crush on me?"

you thought about it for a moment. "i actually had a crush on this guy in my grade named frankie, so probably not."

mat's jaw dropped. "so my crush would go unrequited?"

"mat, honey, we didn't even live in the same country. this whole situation is hypothetical."

"tell me, did frankie play hockey?"

"what? no."

"was he funnier than me?"

"mat how am i supposed to know if second grade you was funnier than frankie?"

he shrugged. "i don't know. but was he?"

"he was the class clown."

mat groaned and fell back into your pillows. "seven year old mat is crushed. he stands no chance."

"honey, i cannot stress this enough, this is a hypothetical situation."

but all of a sudden, he stood up to his full height and walked towards you with the picture frame still in his hands. he placed the frame back on your dresser and closed the distance between the two of you. "what if it wasn't hypothetical?" he said, his tone shifted from playful to serious.

you locked his phone while you looked at him, to say you were confused would be an understatement. "what're you talking about?"

he shrugged and placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer until you hips touched and it was like electricity struck your nervous system. "what if--"

a knock on the door interrupted anything mat was going to say. the two of you jumped apart. "hope you two aren't naked!" cody's voice sounded through the wooden door. "we're having a movie night and mom made it clear that you two need to be downstairs in five minutes."

"we'll be right out!" you called, though your eyes were still locked on mat's.

he reluctantly let go of you as you cleared your throat. you didn't know what was different about air around you, how it felt tense and warm at the same time.

you headed downstairs with mat trailing behind you and sat on the couch next to each other. you weren't sure what changed, but when mat put his arm around you like he had done in the past, you fought every urge to tense up. what was going on with you?

when the movie was over, and it was time for all of you to go to bed, you and mat dressed in separate rooms. you were in bed by the time he returned and you were too busy controlling your breaths to notice his hesitancy.

he called your name quietly, but you squeezed your eyes shut and evened out your breathing. mat pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he got in bed before he wrapped an arm around your waist pulled your back to his chest.

your heart beat against your ribs loud enough you were sure he could hear it. you weren't sure why, or what it was, not even your ex boyfriend had your heart beating like that, and it took you months to get over him.

when mat finally fell asleep, you relaxed, and pulled yourself gently and slowly out of his hold.

you placed a pillow between you two.

it was on the floor on mat's side the next morning.

the "big family" dinner

"is this appropriate enough to wear to dinner tonight?" mat came into the room wearing a plain white tee and black jeans with adidas.

it should be a sin to look that good in something so simple.

"if you were anyone else, i'd say no," you replied.

he blinked. "what does that mean?"

"i mean somehow you make really plain outfits look good."

he smirked. "you saying i look good?"

"oh please. like you don't know."

mat put both of his hands in his front pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "maybe, but it sounds better coming from your mouth." you rolled your eyes and shoved him aside as you gathered your clothes in your hands. "what're you wearing?"

"a shirt and shorts." you walked into the bathroom across the hall to change into your outfit before going back in the bedroom to get your shoes.

mat let out a low whistle much like he did at the boutique. "is that my shirt?"

you looked down and saw the islanders logo on the front and shrugged. "must be."

"when did you grab this?"

"must've been during one of our sleepovers." you walked right out of the room and down the stairs to join the rest of your family. the six of you (your father, mother, brother, his girlfriend, mat, and you) would be riding in two separate cars. cody tried to convince your parents that mat should ride with them while you rode with him, but you quickly shot that idea down. you wouldn't say you were embarrassed of your parents, but you surely weren't going to leave mat to his own devices with them.

which is how you ended up sitting in the backseat of your dad's subaru with a foot of space between you and mat.

"mat, honey, tell us about your family! do you have any siblings?" your mother asked from the front seat she tried to give him earlier.

"you have longer legs!" she said.

"and my dad would literally punch me in the chest if i didn't let you sit shotgun," mat replied.

"i have a sister, her name's liana."

"oh, liana!" your mother gushed. "what a beautiful name! i should've named you that, honey!"

"mom," you whined. "you don't think it would be weird to have the same name as mat's sister?"

she hummed. "i guess, when you put it that way..." your mother shook her head. "how'd you get into hockey, mat?"

"mom, mat's gonna be interrogated all night long, can we save the questions for later?"

"baby, it's fine," mat assured you. your heart picked up just a little at the pet name but settled down when he turned his attention back to your mom. "i grew up playing it," he said. "my dad used to play as well."

it was like your mom fell in love with your boyfriend even more. "see honey? he continued a tradition that his father set for him!" you kept yourself from snarking back and rolling your eyes and just smiled. "i wanted my daughter to be a nurse like me," she explained to mat. "but she wasn't interested."

"mom, i can barely handle the sight of blood and you thought i would be okay in the icu?"

mat cackled. "you should see her when i have cuts and bruises from games, she pulls out gloves and about douses my wounds in peroxide."

"i'm not gonna get a blood borne disease because of you, barzal," you replied.

he rolled his eyes but smiled at you anyway.

you zoned out for the rest of the car ride as your aunt's house grew closer. mat, ever the observant friend, reached out and grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it three times until you looked at him.

"you okay?" he mouthed. when you finally nodded he sighed and brought your hands to his lips, kissing it once before placing your joined hands between the two of you. your heart soared at the gesture, but you looked back out the window before he could see it.

your father parked the car in front of a giant house you were all too familiar with. memories flashed before your eyes of summers spent swimming in the pool in the backyard and playing with toys in angela's room.

"be on your best behavior," your mom directed towards you with a knowing look in her eyes. you weren't sure why, you hadn't made a scene in years, though you were contemplating it if your mom kept harassing you.

you and mat slid out of the backseat and followed your parents to the front door. your mom didn't even bother knocking; she opened the door and left it open for the rest of you to follow. mat trailed behind you, grabbing your hand at the last minute before walking through the front door.

you were immediately accosted by a plethora of voices and music, unknowingly, you gripped mat's hand a little tighter as your aunt rounded the corner with a glass of champagne and a large smile. you saw as she greeted your parents with hugs, careful not to spill her drink. when her eyes focused on you, or rather the hand you were holding, there was a sense of smug satisfaction that occurred when you saw the poorly disguised shock on her face.

"hey!" she greeted. "i see you brought a friend."

before you could say anything, mat was taking his hand out of yours and shaking your aunt's hand. "i'm mat, the boyfriend."

aunt patty smiled and then looked at you, like she was evaluating something. "nice to meet you, mat," she said before bringing you into a hug and giving the same salutation she gave your parents. "angela will be excited to see you, both of you!" she said.

doubtful, you thought. very doubtful.

aunt patty ushered the both of you further into the house; mat's hand returned to holding yours until it was time to go outside in the backyard and join the rest of the family, then his hand moved to your lower back.

the two of you walked outside and watched as your family mingled in the backyard.

"who do we talk to first?" mat asked.

you shook your head. "no one. we go grab food first. my family is easier to handle with food."

mat nodded and followed your lead to the table with assorted finger foods on it. the two of you grabbed a plate full of food and found a table to sit.

it wasn't long before the table filled up with cody and his girlfriend who'd arrived moments after you did.

"did you give him the family run down?" cody asked before taking a bite out of one of his deviled eggs.

"this isn't amateur hour, cody. i spent the entire evening yesterday prepping him."

and a coffee date and plane ride dedicated to perfecting a fabricated story.

as if reminded that you two had appearances to keep up, mat reached back and draped his arm around the back of your chair and leaned back in his own. he looked so comfortable doing so you would've believed him to be genuine.

it wasn't long before your other family members came over, your grandmother to start. both you and mat stood to greet her. she wasted no time pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, holding your face between her hands and smiling.

"my, my, my, you've grown," she said.

"you say that every time you see me, grandma," you replied.

"and i mean it every time." her eyes dart to over your shoulder where you're positive mat is towering over you. "and who is this?" she asked, but it was clear by the smirk on her face that she already knew. the entire family probably knew given how much your mother liked to talk about your love life.

"i'm mat," he said and extended a hand out to shake.

your grandmother immediately let go of you and all but pushed you out of the way to hug mat who didn't even hesitate to embrace her back. when your grandmother pulled away she smiled and glanced back and forth between you and mat.

"so you're the gentleman who stole my baby's heart?"

mat gave your grandmother a megawatt smile. "no ma'am, you have it backwards. i just tricked her into dating me, still not sure how i accomplished it though."

your grandmother looked back at you and all but swooned. "you didn't tell me how handsome he was."

you blinked. you weren't sure what kind of magic ability mat had but the fact that you grandmother looked ready to become a cougar or push you down the aisle said something.

"didn't think he was your type, grandma."

she rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said enough. "you and that attitude, girl, i've missed it. i hope she doesn't give you this much trouble, mat."

he only reached around your grandmother and tugged you into his chest. "oh this one? she usually gives me a run for my money," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

your grandmother looked at you and smiled.

and just like that, he'd won over your grandmother's approval. it was a record for you, actually. even your best boyfriend had to meet her several times to win her over.

and mat did it in a matter of minutes.

really, it wasn't fair how charming he was.

"well," she said. "i'll let you two finish eating, i'm sure your cousin will make her way over here at some point." and on cue, your grandmother and you met eyes and shared an understanding. while your grandma loved angela, she, unlike your aunt, was not blind to the passive aggressive comments made by your cousin over the years.

mat pulled your chair out and pushed it in as you sat down before taking his place next to you. his hand immediately made its way onto your thigh, his thumb stroking the outside of your leg.

he leaned in and murmured in your ear. "that went well."

you swallowed the weird sensation in your throat that probably had nothing to do with his touch and proximity.

"a little too well if you ask me," you replied. "she likes you a lot more than my other boyfriends."

mat shrugged like that wasn't the highest praise you could give him. "to be fair, your exes have always been shit."

"they have not!"

cody chimed in from across the table. "they have." you glared at him but he seemed unfazed. "do you want me to tally the boys you've brought home?" but he didn't even give you a chance to answer before he started listing your exes on his fingers. "there was cole who skipped your birthday because it wasn't important. then there was conrad who had the weird relationship with his sister. then there was randall who wouldn't speak to you for days on end and then text you out of the blue."

you rolled your eyes. "those don't count, those were high school boyfriends."

cody deadpanned, though you both knew he skipped one particular boyfriend who happened to be the shittiest. "oh i can skip straight to college and post college if you'd like. you've given me plenty of material to work with." so he continued. "there was yohan who didn't have a bed frame, just a mattress on the floor."

"we were in college!"

mat chimed in. "a mattress on the floor is bad, babe. you can't excuse that."

you huffed and sat back in your chair as cody kept going.

"what about peter who refused to ever get your number and only communicated through snapchat? or lance who had the armpit fetish?"

mat nearly spit out his drink. "a what? what does that even mean?"

you groaned and put your head in your hands until a new voice chimed in.

"it means that she wore a lot of tank tops when they dated, per his request. isn't that right?"

you looked up and saw the rock on her hand before you ever saw her face.

"angela," you said and tried to smile, though the poorly masked snicker made by cody told you it probably looked more like a grimace. "hey, long time no see."

"alright, that's our cue, harper," cody mumbled before him and his girlfriend left the table.

she smiled and fixed her eyes on mat. "and who is this?"

mat, as if sensing the challenge she was presenting, moved his hand from your thigh to around your shoulder. unlike meeting your grandmother, he didn't stand up or offer a hand, he just nodded and smile. "i'm mat."

"and who is 'mat?'" she asked in what she believed was a charming way.

you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

"i'm her boyfriend," mat said before placing a kiss on the side of your head. it was with premature smug satisfaction that you witnessed the smile on angela's lips falter just a little. but then you remembered the times before when you introduced boyfriends to family and how angela looked at them with some sort of predatory gleam in her eyes when met with a challenge.

and mat's indifference to her was the biggest challenge of all.

a tall blond man walked over and wrapped an arm around angela's waist. "baby," he said. "i got you a drink." and he handed her a flute of champagne.

she sipped it but never took her eyes off mat.

"who're you?" owen asked. you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. all those years ago, you thought his blunt ways of communicating were charming, now they just grated on your nerves.

"honey, this is mat, the infamous plus one."

"boyfriend," mat corrected. "simple mistake, i get it. it's not like the rsvp's asked for a relationship definition or anything."

"how long have you two been together?" owen asked.

"a few months," you answered in unison, which immediately made angela quirk a brow. you started sweating, your hands started shaking in your lap.

almost as if sensing your nerves, mat reached over with the hand that wasn't around you shoulders, and placed it on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into your skin.

goosebumps formed on your skin, but for an entirely different reason that a cold breeze considering it was nearly sweltering outside.

"we've been friends for awhile though," mat said. "known each other for about as long as we've been in new york."

angela hummed, but didn't seem convinced. "okay," she smiled. "enjoy the party."

when she walked away with owen in tow, you let out a sigh.

"you okay?" mat mumbled.

"that went better than i thought."

"i thought you said she was mean," mat said.

"she typically is, maybe she's changed though. it's been a minute since i came home."

mat hummed, but maybe your earlier conversations convinced him of angela's normal behavior, because he didn't seem like he believed you.

"don't hum at me," you said. "she could!"

mat shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hand squeezed your shoulder where it rested. "okay," he said before placing a kiss on your temple. "i trust you."

the night continued on without much incident. cody got a little too drunk, but that was to be expected. your uncle, his wife, and your cousins all came by and said their hellos, but for the most part, you and mat just stayed at the table and talked.

it was moments like that when you forgot how easy it was to just be with him. you couldn't count the amount of times you found yourself sitting on his couch with your head in his lap, his hand in your hair, as you ranted about your shitty day at work or a frustrating phone call with your parents. days like that were typical with mat, because he made it so easy to just be.

you felt most like yourself when you were with him.

and sure it sounded a little codependent, but you were almost positive he was your other half.

but not in a romantic way.

never in a romantic way.

after all, he was way out of your league. the amount times he had women approach him at bars when the two of you went out were astronomical.

you were forever the friend, and you weren't really all that upset about it. so long as you had mat, you'd take him in whatever capacity he'd give you.

the night was quickly coming to an end. harper had cody's arm wrapped around her shoulder, assuring everyone she would be driving them home. mat's hand had found a new home on the small of your back as he guided you out and back towards the front door, following your parents who insisted on hugging every family member goodbye.

you felt your body lean into mat's touch and the side of his body, your own feeling drained and exhausted.

"hey," he leaned down and mumbled in your ear. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll meet you at the car?"

you looked up at him, faces close together. you were taken back to earlier when you almost kissed and for a moment, you found yourself imagining a world where you could. where you could lean up and figure out what chapstick he used.

"yeah," you stuttered out when it was clear you'd stayed quiet too long.

"great," he smiled before kissing your cheek and disappearing down the hallway.

you were immediately crowded by your mom, aunt, and to your displeasure, angela.

your cousin stumbled up to you with a bright smile on her face as both of your mothers talked to each other. "your friend was cute," she said. "wouldn't mind running away with him." she giggled, but you saw the truth in her eyes, the calculated stumbles and fake drunken smiles.

"oh, angie's had too much to drink," your aunt said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "you know how drunk people can be."

"i've always heard drunk words are sober thoughts," you stated.

your mom scoffed and waved a hand in the air. "oh honey, that's just a saying, angela doesn't mean what she says, not while she's intoxicated. after all, i have done plenty of things while drunk that i didn't mean in the morning."

you squinted at your mother, completely baffled by her excusing of angela. which, after all these years, shouldn't surprise you.

"what'd i miss?" mat popped back next to you like he was summoned.

"oh nothing--" your mother started.

"mat!" angela screamed, throwing her hands up in the air before wrapping them around his shoulders. "if i wasn't getting married tomorrow, i'd run away with you! it's too bad my cousin here didn't introduce us before!"

mat peeled her arms off his body and pushed her away as gently as he could. "before what? before you stole her high school boyfriend?"

what.

the hell.

angela's smile dropped right as your mom's and aunt's eyes widened. "and i'm not a fan of running." he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door, and waved down harper who was about to pull out of the driveway.

"we rode with my parents," you said, still in a daze from what he said.

"we're riding with harper and cody back," was all he said.

harper unlocked the doors for you and mat but didn't even bother asking why the two of you decided to switch rides.

the drive back to your childhood home was pretty quiet save for the country music playing softly over the radio. it wasn't your favorite genre, but you weren't going to complain.

by the time you made it home, you were exhausted. mat trailed you up the stairs after locking the front door behind him because harper mentioned something about taking cody back to their apartment instead of staying.

when he finally walked in the room, you were already changing out of your shorts. maybe it was a testament to how tired you were, or how long you had known each other that made you not give a shit about changing in front of him. you did, however, try to stay decent, so you waited until you had your pajama shirt on to remove your bra before sliding into bed.

mat had apparently walked out of the room to change while you had your back to the door because he came walking back in wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt, like he did the other nights.

"you okay?" he asked, getting in to bed and sliding next to you. he bumped his shoulder with yours.

"why wouldn't i be?" but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"c'mon," he said. "you can be honest with me. i'm your best friend."

your eyes watered at his words, the ones he spoke in front of your family, and the ones he spoke just then. "thank you," was all you could get out.

he pulled you into his arms and for a moment, you were taken back to similar circumstances.

like when you watched marley and me. or when your neighbor with the cute dog moved away.

mat had always been there.

"what're you thanking me for?"

"no one's ever stood up to her like that."

mat scoffed. "i wasn't just gonna let her disrespect our relationship like that, real or fake." he kissed the top of your head. "i almost didn't say anything, wanted to keep the peace, but then i saw the look on your face and couldn't keep quiet."

"what look?"

"the kicked puppy look." you looked up at him as his thumb stroked a line on your cheek. something must've passed over your face because his thumb stopped its motion. "what?" you sighed and shook your head. "c'mon," he said. "you can tell me."

you sighed. "i just--i don't want her to take you away."

mat tilted your chin up and ducked his head down so your foreheads touched. "you're not gonna lose me, especially not to your cousin, okay?" you nodded. "i need to hear you say it, baby."

but how could you talk when he called you by pet names? how could you breathe when you could kiss him if you just lifted your chin.

damn.

did he know the effect he had on you?

"baby," he prompted.

"okay," you said. "i trust you."

"and that's all i ask." he kissed your forehead and pulled away, all too soon if anyone asked you. "now, let's watch a movie, i need to destress after tonight."

you settled into the pillows and laid your head on mat's chest as he scrolled through netflix with one hand; the other arm was wrapped around your back.

the wedding

the next two days were spent with you and mat walking around the city, nothing noteworthy happened.

but you woke up on the day of the wedding dreading what was to come.

the ceremony itself wasn't until that night, which gave you the entire day to worry about angela and mat.

his words should've comforted you, but you were too caught up in why you cared. he was your best friend, angela didn't want him that way. and mat was too loyal to let a girl come between your friendship, he never let it happen with his previous girlfriends.

but there would be times when you wouldn't be together that night. could you honestly expect mat to hang around the women's bathroom every time you needed to use it? you were lucky he got along with your brother and your grandmother as well as he did, but your grandmother would definitely leave early and cody would definitely ditch anyone in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get laid.

"you okay?" mat asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as you stared in the bathroom mirror. "you've been in here a minute. at first i thought you were taking a shit, but you left the door open." he rested his head on top of yours and made eye contact with you in the mirror.

"just stressed about tonight," you admitted.

"you got nothing to stress over, you got me, and we're not getting married. we'll just get drunk and party. sounds like a great time to me!"

"god, if i'm like this at someone else's wedding, i can't imagine what i'd be like at my own."

mat shrugged. "i wouldn't let you be stressed. i’d make sure to give you the wedding you want."

you pulled away and turned around, brows pulled together like attracting magnets. "wouldn’t that be weird though? you making sure my wedding was what i wanted?"

"considering it would be my wedding too, no i don't think it would be weird." he shrugged and said it so casually, you almost didn't register what he said. but when it sunk in, your cheeks heated up and you broke eye contact before lightly shoving him away.

"you're such a flirt," you said, hoping it wouldn't give away the way your heart raced in your chest.

"doesn't mean it isn't true!" he called after you. mat flicked on the fan and shut the door. "now watch a movie, i don't want you to hear me shit."

"we're not even in the same room, dipshit!" you laughed before heading back to your room and turning on netflix.

mat joined you after about ten minutes in the bathroom and the two of you watched a movie until your parents shouted from downstairs to start getting ready.

you got ready in the bathroom simply because that was where you makeup was. mat took the bedroom simply because it was easier. you put on your dress, fluffing out the ends to make sure no part of it was wrinkled before you started on your makeup.

you were finished rather quickly, mainly because mat kept calling your name like a child, waiting for you to fix his tie because he didn't know how to.

when you walked out of the bathroom, though, mat met you in the hallway. his eyes were focused on the tie in his hands until he heard the door open. he glanced up and his jaw dropped.

"fuck," he mumbled.

you could feel the heat going up your chest and your neck until it settled in your face. "do i look okay?"

mat swallowed and nodded. your normally chatty best friend was rendered speechless for the first time since you met him. he cleared his throat and gestured to you. "i knew buying that dress was a good move."

you rolled your eyes and smiled as you walked over to him. you took the tie out of his hand and wrapped it around his neck, tying a windsor knot until it was snug against his throat.

"i think you're trying to choke me."

you scoffed. "if you learned how to tie a tie, this wouldn't be a problem."

"if i learned how to tie a tie, i wouldn't have an excuse to be this close to you." his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your hips close to his.

"you should know you don't need an excuse to get close to me." you tried out the flirtation a little, unsure if he was joking or not, but given how his eyes lit up just a bit, you were pretty confident he was serious.

"baby--"

"sweetheart! we need to be leaving soon!" your mother called up the stairs.

you and mat sprung apart like the other had spontaneously caught on fire. neither of you would make eye contact too embarrassed to have been interrupted by your mother. though you couldn't meet each other's eyes, you managed to see mat gesture for you to go down the stairs first.

"you both look so cute!" your mother gushed as both you and mat entered the living room. "go stand in front of the fireplace! i have to get your picture."

you rolled your eyes. "mom, this isn't prom night." but mat was already tugging you over to where your mom was pointing and wrapping and arm around your waist.

your mom snapped a few pictures before hurrying the two of you and your father out the door. the wedding didn't start for another hour, but the venue was thirty minutes away and your mom wanted to make sure your aunt wasn't going to have an aneurysm.

mat held your hand as you walked down the front porch stairs towards the car. his grip was tight and firm. when you finally joined him on the sidewalk, you expected him to drop his hand, but he held onto it even tighter, lightly swinging it between your bodies.

he didn't let go until you got into the back seat of your mom's car.

he lightly chatted with your parents while you stared at the space between the two of you. the entire week had your mind whirling, you two were just friends, but sharing a bed, the physical closeness, the flirting, the near kisses, it was all driving you insane.

sure, you thought mat was good looking, but you'd long given up the hope that he'd ever like you. he was mat and you were you. even if there wasn't a large disparity between your perception of both of your physical attributes, you still would've felt the divide.

he was everything, practically your best friend.

and that alone was too important for you to risk on some juvenile feelings.

mat nudged you with his elbow. "you okay? you've been quiet."

you blinked back into the present, noting that your mother had turned on abba and was singing to dancing queen while your father hummed the tune under his breath. both of them were too distracted to notice or hear mat's question.

you nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, too scared to get caught in their orbit once more. "yeah," you said. "just thinking."

"uh oh. that's not good," he joked. but you didn't laugh. his face turned serious and he nudged you once more before grabbing your hand in his own. "you can tell me anything, you know that right?"

"of course," you replied.

he squeezed your hand twice and didn't let go until you got out of the car.

as your father pulled into the parking lot, you got a good view of the venue. a large building with tall windows and music blasting throughout the open doors.

once you got inside, your eyes were immediately overwhelmed by the visual stimulation of large flower arrangements everywhere with the most pricey looking lighting fixtures dangling from the ceiling.

it was extravagant, and everything you would've expected angela's wedding to look like.

"oh god," mat mumbled under his breath, loud enough just for you to hear. he leaned down, placing his hand on the small of your back. "remind me not to do this much at my wedding."

you rolled your eyes. "what if it's what your bride wants?"

he paused. "do you want something like this?"

"god no."

"then i don't need to worry."

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "quit joking."

"who said i was joking?" he asked.

you stared at him until your dad cleared his throat and reminded the two of you that you still needed to find your seats at the ceremony.

"honey," your mother grabbed your arm. "do you want to come with me to see angela? i'm just gonna check on her and your aunt to make sure everything is ready and together."

you were shaking your head before she could even finish getting the words out. "nope."

"honey, it's your cousin's wedding."

"and she didn't even make me a bridesmaid. i'm sure she'll be fine waiting until the reception to see me."

"i thought you weren't angry about that! i told you not to take it personal."

it took every ounce of will not to roll your eyes. mainly because mat was standing there, and if you let it slip how frustrated you were, he might step in and make your mom hate him. "i don't care, mom. but if she wanted me to see her before the wedding, she would've made her part of her bridal party. but she didn't so i'll see her when she walks down the aisle." with that off your chest, you grabbed mat's hand and marched towards the group of chairs where the ceremony would take place.

you quickly chose a seat close enough to see the actual ceremony happen without being too close that you could see angela promise her life away to the ex she stole from you.

"that was intense," mat commented. "you sure you're okay?"

you sighed and contemplated putting your face in your hands if it wasn't for the makeup you put on earlier. "i don't know why she wants me and angela to act like we're best friends, it's gone on like this for our entire lives, but it's never worked. angela has never liked me, and i'm tired of pretending like it's my fault. i don't even know what i did to make her constantly try to undermine me."

mat looked around before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards what you guessed were the bathrooms, away from the prying eyes of nosy guests.

"it's not your fault," he said, bending down so you could look each other in the eyes. "there's nothing wrong with you, either, okay? she's blind if she can't see how amazing you are. and your mom is wrong for trying to force a friendship. you understand?"

you nodded.

"i need to hear you say it, baby."

"i understand." a beat later. "thanks, mat."

he kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand. "anytime."

the two of you found your old seats taken by an older couple, so you sat in the same row as cody and harper who had shown up while you were gone.

the wedding started shortly thereafter with your parents joining you in the same row. your mother looked relatively calm for what you knew had to be a shitshow in the back room. angela was very particular, and while there was nothing wrong with that were it anyone else, your cousin's strong opinions often stressed your mother and aunt out.

the music started playing and the bridesmaids started walking down the aisle with the groomsmen and owen. you didn't recognize most of the girls, probably because you hadn't been around angela's friends since high school and you never came to her birthday parties after you graduated (not that she invited you anyway). the one bridesmaid you did recognize was meredith from the dress shop. she looked beautiful in her lilac dress. and her smile did nothing to giveaway what chaos the dressing room was in before she walked out.

with everyone in their places at the front, the music changed tune. every guest, including you, stood to their feet and turned around. everyone watched as the double doors opened and angela came walking down the aisle in a princess gown with her father escorting her.

she smiled brightly, probably basking in the attention she was receiving. she didn't even look at owen until she got close enough to the front that there was no one else for her to smile at.

i'd do it differently, you thought. when i get married, i won't be able to take my eyes off his face.

the officiant told everyone to sit and continued on with the ceremony. you mostly blocked it out, peering at mat who looked more interested in the ceremony than you were. he caught your stare a few times and smirked before grabbing hold of your hand and kissing the back of it.

and your heart soared every time.

mat was an affectionate friend, this much you knew. anytime you picked him up from a roadie, or when he came over after you just got back into town, he'd hold you in a death grip hug for five minutes at the very least. most of the hugs involved the two of you swaying side to side with mat mumbling how much he missed you into your neck.

all that to say, you weren't a stranger to his affection.

you were, however, unused to the kisses and pet names, all of which started as soon as you introduced him to your family.

it was the crowd cheering that startled you out of your stupor. you glanced at the front to see owen dipping angela in a kiss while the photographer captured the moment.

and maybe it was the bitterness in your chest speaking for the teenager who lost her first serious boyfriend, but the kiss itself looked more performative than like true love.

mat extended a hand to you when you realized everyone was standing and heading to the tables to eat.

"you alright?" he asked once your hand was secured in his own. "you keep zoning out."

you shrugged. "just thinking."

"about?"

"how do you know if you love someone?" you asked, replaying angela and owen's kiss in your mind. you were so preoccupied, you didn't notice mat scratching the back of his head and blushing.

"well, you uh," he stuttered. "why're you asking me? haven't you been in love before?"

he wouldn't meet your eyes, his own kept focusing on avoiding bumping into people as you made your way to an open table. mat pulled your chair out and didn't sit down until you did.

"i don't know," you continued on. "i thought i was, but i never saw forever with those guys."

"thank god," he mumbled.

"what?"

he looked up all doe eyed and innocent. "hm?"

"what did you say?"

he shrugged. "i didn't say anything. you must be hearing things."

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips said you weren't really bothered by his lies.

cody and harper joined you at the table; your parents took the last two seats. all six of you sipped at the water on the table and waited for your dinners to be ready.

"so," harper started. "what did everyone think of the ceremony?"

you could've groaned, not because you weren't interested in weddings, you loved them.

just not angela's.

and talking about all the beautiful aspects of it sounded like a violation of your eighth amendment rights.

"oh it was so gorgeous, she looked fantastic," your mother supplied, fawning over your cousin as usual. but it was when she looked around the room before she leaned into the table that your attention was piqued. "patty was scared the wedding would need to be called off. said something about how owen was getting cold feet, she wouldn't say why though."

were you a horrible person for internally rejoicing at angela's possible stressor?

maybe just a little.

but you'd taken the high road your entire life. so in your opinion, it was warranted and earned.

mat nudged your knee with his. "at least look concerned," he mumbled with a smirk playing on his lips.

"i do! i am!" you said just loud enough for him to hear. mat looked at you until you cracked under his gaze. "okay, so i might be just a little smug, sue me."

he rolled his eyes, but the smile playing on his lips said he was far from annoyed.

your family continued to make idle chatter until the dj started announcing the bridal party. it wasn't anything that hadn't been done before; the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced their way into the room. moments later, angela and owen came in with their hands riased and cheering along with everyone else. your entire table joined in with the other guests and clapped and hollered until it was no longer socially acceptable.

dinner came out shortly thereafter.

again, it was nothing that hadn't been done before. a simple pasta dish with a side salad wasn't anything to celebrate. the food was absolutely delicious, you wouldn't lie about that, it was just interesting that angela, who prided herself on being different, had planned a party that didn't even crack your top ten favorite weddings.

but she'd never sought your approval anyway, so why would she start now?

you were shocked out of your intense thoughtfulness by an arm wrapping around your shoulder. mat didn't even look phased as he pulled you just a little closer to him, talking with your dad about the upcoming season like they'd been friends for ages.

the weight of his arm was comforting, reminding you of times he'd slung it across your shoulders after a game and pressed a kiss to your temple or when you sat next to each other at bars.

others had looked at your relationship with a microscope. sydney and grace both had asked multiple times if there was something more with the two of you and looked skeptical whenever you gave them a funny look while saying no.

he was your best friend, always would be so long as you never fucked anything up.

"how's your pasta?" mat asked.

you blinked. "same as yours."

he rolled his eyes yet again and kissed your temple. "smart ass," he mumbled against your skin.

dinner was barely over when music started playing, marking the sign of the first dance. angela and owen danced to "can't help falling in love" while everyone looked on. they didn't talk, they seldom even smiled until, like they were suddenly struck by electricity, they remembered they were being photographed and had all eyes on them.

you bided your time, sipping the water in your glass, because you knew mat was gonna drag your ass onto the dance floor like he had before at other parties and weddings.

sure enough, as soon as the song ended and the party music started, mat's hand was in yours, tugging you towards the center of the floor.

you dragged your feet as a front, just wanting to prolong the feeling of his palm encircling your own. you didn't know the name of the song, just like you didn't understand the light feeling in your stomach when mat pulled you close and placed his hands on your waist.

"in case i forgot to tell you," he shouted into your ear over the pumping music. "you look really pretty tonight."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. you ducked your head so you couldn't see him, but he pulled your chin up to look him in the eyes.

"don't get shy on me now," he teased, though his eyes weren't full of mirth like they usually were. they were soft, like sunlight filtered through a bedroom window. "come dance with me."

the two of you danced, hips shaking and moving to the beat of the music. mat always had a grip on you, whether he was twirling you around or had both hands on your hips.

you couldn't remember ever having this much fun at a wedding.

who would've thought it would've been angela's wedding?

but the music slowed down, usually signaling that it was your time to sit back down until hey ya! came on. so you made a move to step off the dance floor and head back to where your brother sat nursing a glass of bourbon, but it was a callused hand that kept you in place.

"where do you think you're going, baby?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "you owe me a dance."

you hesitated, knowing that in the past, you'd danced the night away, but with him here, in front of your family, with your grandmother giving you a smile, you didn't know you could fake it any longer. you couldn't keep pretending that you weren't completely infatuated, overcome with love for your best friend.

your hand would've started shaking had he not had a steady grip on you.

mat pulled you close. "c'mon, i won't even step on your toes. i promise."

you relented and let him pull you back into the middle of the floor. he placed his hands on your waist and, for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. in another life, you'd be wearing white and be the prettiest person in the room. in another life, you'd have matching gold bands on your fourth fingers.

in another life, he'd be yours.

you wrapped your hands around the back on his neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly.

"you're far away," he said. "come back to earth for a minute. what're you thinking about?"

you shrugged. "wondering if i'll ever get this," you answered honestly, even going as far as looking him in the eyes as you spoke.

"you'll get it," he said without a doubt in the world to be found. "i'll make sure of it."

"what about you? do you want something like this?"

he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the newly married couple in the center. "not if i'm not marrying you."

you blinked, heart in your throat. he looked so honest, but you'd known him long enough, seen who he's dated too many times, to know he was joking.

he had to be.

right?

so you laughed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so that you unintentionally missed the small look of confusion married with hurt on mat's face. you did it to protect yourself, to keep yourself from getting hurt, and unintentionally hurting him in the process.

"i can never tell when you're joking, barzy," you smiled, hoping it covered the shake in your voice.

"but i--"

"may i cut in?" you glanced to your left and saw your smiling grandmother.

"oh i--" mat stuttered, flustered in a way you'd never seen before.

"sure!" you interrupted his train of thought. "i have to pee anyway."

besides, mat was probably safest with her anyway. angela wouldn't try anything while your grandmother was standing there.

you stepped away, waist feeling cold from the lack of contact and made your way towards the bathrooms.

it wasn't that hard to find the restroom, it was just a longer hallway. but it was far enough from the reception that the music was only a faint bass noise.

you walked into the bathroom and did your business. fluffing your hair and fixing your dress in the mirror when you'd finished washing your hands. you opened the door and saw shiny black shoes before you saw the man standing across from the woman's bathroom.

"owen?" you asked. "the men's bathroom is a little further down the hall."

"i know," he said, pushing off the wall to move closer to you.

red flag.

"what?" you asked, moving slightly out of the way so he couldn't push you back into the bathroom. "have you been drinking?"

"sober as a judge."

you furrowed your brows. "what?"

he took another step closer to you while you quickly turned so your back was no longer against a wall, but towards the party. if he kept advancing towards you, the weird tension would soon be out in the open and surely he would stop then.

right?

"i'm sorry for what i did back in high school."

"owen, what are you talking about?"

"for cheating on you. you're all i've ever wanted and it's my biggest regret to this day that i ever let you go."

you were gonna be sick.

"owen, you don't know what you're talking about. you love angela. you got married to angela. she is your wife."

"but i want you." he reached out to touch your hair but you backed up quick enough to just miss his hand.

"no you don't," you said. "you decided i wasn't enough nearly ten years ago."

"but you looked so good and so happy with him, with max or whatever his name is--"

"--mat--"you corrected.

"--it made me miss us. don't you miss me?"

"i don't even know who you are anymore, owen! that person you knew in high school isn't me anymore, and you don't get to decide you want me now just because i'm happy and you aren't."

"we were so good together!"

"we were sixteen, owen! we were children."

"but--"

"i gave you just about everything i could possibly give, and you decided it wasn't enough. you decided to get with my cousin while we were dating instead of breaking up with me. you decided to marry her. and now you get to live with that decision." you spun on your heel and were met with mat's stare. even in the dim lighting, you could see his jaw clenched.

"mat," you breathed like it was your last breath.

"you okay?" he asked.

"yeah," you said. "just telling owen where the bathroom was."

you both knew it was a lie, especially if the look on mat's face was any indication, he'd probably heard enough of the conversation. you allowed yourself to be guided back to the recpetion with mat's hand firmly placed on the small of your back.

you two kept dancing until it was time to send angela and owen off. while mat gathered your things, you said goodbye to your extended family members because you two were leaving tomorrow afternoon to head back to new york.

which scared you.

this last week had been amazing. pretending and playing house with mat meant unlocking feelings you'd pretended didn't exist for the entire duration of your friendship. and while you wished you'd never unlocked pandora's box, part of you was happy you could never go back.

a warm and weathered hand tugged on your forearm and snapped you out of your reverie. "don't let that boy go." when you looked down, your grandmother was staring at you with earnest eyes. "he loves you the way you deserve to be loved."

your eyes welled up with tears as you hugged her. "thanks, grandma."

"i mean it. don't come back without him, you hear me? i need great grand babies soon."

you flushed at the idea and whined. "please don't tell me you said that to him!"

but she didn't answer you, she just laughed.

"you ready?" mat asked, walking over with your brother and harper following closely behind. "cody said he'd give us a ride home."

"treat my baby right, mathew," your grandmother said. "or else i'll have to fly to new york and kill you, you hear?"

he smiled. "yes ma'am."

you hugged your grandmother tight. "i love you."

"love you more."

mat ushered you outside, following behind cody and harper to their car. none of you were interested in the send off, even if was only going to take a few seconds.

the four of you got into cody's car and drove off before your parents could admonish you for leaving early. cody and harper talked amongst themselves about bills and what their own wedding would look like whenever cody proposed (and if you knew him like you thought you did, it would be soon) while you and mat just held hands in the backseat.

it was weird, the physical touch even when no one was looking. but you weren't complaining about it, if anything, you were clinging to it, scared that once it finally ended you'd go into withdrawal.

cody parked outside of your parents house and let you and mat in before driving off. you headed upstairs, with mat on your tail, ready to get undressed and to curl up in bed with a stupid movie.

"that was fun," mat said. "did you have fun?"

you sat down on your bed and started taking off your shoes. "i always have fun when i'm with you," you said absentmindedly. a moment of silence passed. you looked up to see mat shifting from side to side. "are you okay?"

"what did owen want?" he asked honestly.

you sighed and stood up, walking towards him. "i'm not even sure. he started professing how much he missed me, but i shut it down because i don't have feelings for him."

a glimmer of hope. "you don't?"

"nope."

he nodded. "good."

you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "i could never go through with it anyway, i'm in love with someone else." please please please don't let this past week be a joke to him. please let him be a horrible actor.

he stared at you.

a moment of silence.

his eyes searched your own, like they were looking for something.

you could feel the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of his rejection. you'd take being heartbroken, but you couldn't take losing your best friend.

and then.

his hands were on your cheeks, his lips were on yours, and your heart had jumped into your throat. your arms wrapped around his neck and into his hair.

when you finally broke apart for air, mat was smiling. "i'm guessing you were talking about me?" he asked, though the smug tone in his voice said he didn't actually need to know the answer. not when the kiss had already confirmed his suspicions.

"you're such an ass," you jokingly shoved him away, but he caught your hand and used it to pull you back in, to kiss you once more.

"but this ass loves you." he paused. "that sounded a lot more romantic in my head than it did coming out."

but you smiled anyway. "this ass loves you too, barzy."

and two years later, standing in front of everyone in a white dress, you couldn't help but smile. lying usually got you in trouble, but you couldn't have imagined a better ending.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

[jaylver]

WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )

WC: 14k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !

part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.

“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”

Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.

You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?

“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.

“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.

The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.

You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.

“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.

The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.

“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.

Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.

“Did–”

“That–”

The two of you paused.

“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.

As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.

“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.

“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.

“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.

“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.

“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”

“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.

Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.

“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”

“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”

“Didn’t he flirt with you?”

“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.

“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.

“You’re praying on my downfall,”

“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”

You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”

“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”

“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”

“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.

“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”

“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”

“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.

“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”

“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”

You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.

"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.

"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.

“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”

"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.

“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”

You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.

Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.

It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.

“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.

You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”

You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.

“It’s … you,”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,”

That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”

He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.

“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”

“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.

“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.

“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.

Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.

You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”

“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.

He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.

“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”

“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”

“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.

You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.

You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.

Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”

“You think so?”

“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”

“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”

“For free? I can't say no, can I?”

“You wish. Now turn around,”

Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.

You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.

“Heeseung?”

He hummed in response.

“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”

Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.

“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.

“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.

You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.

“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.

“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.

“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.

“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”

“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”

He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”

“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”

“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”

“Sucks to be you,”

Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”

“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”

“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”

“So, I’ve caught your attention?”

“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.

“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”

Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”

“Why not?”

“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.

“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”

“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”

You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”

"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.

When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.

"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.

“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”

“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”

“We’re not there yet, hello?”

“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.

"Please read some self help books too,"

"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"

"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"

Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"

"How so?"

"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.

"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.

"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."

"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"

Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.

"This is why you should date a footballer,"

You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.

“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.

"Me!"

"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"

"Ouch,"

You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.

"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.

"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.

"Okay? Any games coming up?"

"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.

"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.

"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"

You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.

"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.

"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.

"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.

"Let's go!"

"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"

Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.

"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.

"How do you know?"

"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"

Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.

Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.

“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.

“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.

Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”

“Shut up.”

The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.

There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.

With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.

The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.

“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.

“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.

You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.

Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.

Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.

“Y/N?”

You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”

“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"

"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"

"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.

He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”

“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.

“You like me, huh?”

“Not in that way yet,”

“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”

“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.

“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.

You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.

"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.

"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.

"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"

"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.

"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"

Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”

“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.

“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”

“Alright, captain.”

“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”

You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.

“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.

“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”

“Touche.”

You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.

"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.

"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.

"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"

"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"

"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.

"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"

"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.

"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"

"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.

"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.

"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.

"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.

“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.

He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”

“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.

“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.

You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.

“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.

“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.

“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”

“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.

“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.

“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.

The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.

You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.

It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.

“You’re here?”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.

“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.

“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”

“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.

“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.

“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.

“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.

“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.

He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.

“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.

“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”

You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”

He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”

“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.

You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.

“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.

"Why?"

You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.

Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.

"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"

"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"

"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"

"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"

You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"

"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"

You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”

“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds good,”

“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.

It was about to be a long week ahead.

“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”

Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.

“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.

“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”

“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”

“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”

“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.

“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.

You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping’.

At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.

“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.

“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.

“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”

“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.

The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.

After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.

Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.

“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.

“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.

“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”

“Heeseung!”

You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.

“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.

Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.

You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”

“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.

“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”

“I think it would be longer than five hours,”

“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”

Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”

“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”

“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”

“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.

“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.

“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”

Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.

“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.

“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”

Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”

There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.

“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.

“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”

“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”

You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”

Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”

You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”

Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.

“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”

“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.

“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.

There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.

“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.

“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”

Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”

“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.

“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”

You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”

Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”

“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”

You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”

“You think so?”

Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”

"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.

"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.

"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"

"Did our plan work a little too well?"

"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.

You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.

"Y/N?"

Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.

You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.

“So…how are you—”

“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.

“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”

“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”

He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.

“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.

“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”

Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”

“Yeah, she is,”

You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.

“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.

“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.

“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”

At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”

“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?

“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.

“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”

“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.

“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.

“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”

“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.

“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.

Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”

“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.

“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”

“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.

“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.

Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”

Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”

“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.

“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.

“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.

“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”

“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”

“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”

“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”

“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.

“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.

“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.

“Might have to make some adjustments then.”

“Mean.”

NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened. 

"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.

"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.

"Kissed Y/N yet?" 

You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.

"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.

"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.

"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."

"Fuck."

It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.

“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”

You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"

"Yes."

"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"

"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.

“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

“I’m hoping he would,”

“Why don't you do it?”

“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”

“Right …”

Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.

"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"

"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.

"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"

"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"

“Yeah?”

“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,” 

“It’s not that serious,”

“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”

“Don’t tell me it’s …”

“Heeseung. Small world, right?”

Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"

"You just love chaos,"

"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.

"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"

"Lame," Yunjin booed.

"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"

"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"

"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"

Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.

"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.

"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.

Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.

The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.

Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.

Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.

Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.

You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.

"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"

"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.

"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.

The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.

“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand. 

‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good. 

You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.

You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.

"You're wearing my jersey,"

"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"

"To me it is,"

"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.

"Do you still think I’m cute?"

"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.

“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.

“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”

Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”

“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”

“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"

"It's okay, Hee—"

"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"

You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."

"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"

"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.

“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.

“What if I told you I am?”

“Oh, I know,”

Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"

"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"

"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"

"Partially, but I did have a feeling," 

"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"

"I'm easily intimidated,"

"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"

"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"

"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"

"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"

"Fuckboy-ness?"

"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"

"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"

"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"

"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"

"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"

"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"

"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"

"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw. 

You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 

Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"

"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"

"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"

"I'm down,"

"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"It's whatever you like,"

"Pick me up at 7,"

"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"

"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"

"You two are so alike, it's scary,"

"We're besties for a reason."

IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.

"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"

Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.

"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"

And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.

"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.

It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.

"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"

"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"

"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.

"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.

The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.

"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.

"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"

"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"

"See? I'm always right,"

"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.

"I love you,"

Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.

"Did I—"

"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.

"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.

"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"

"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"

"Say less, captain." 

Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.

#fic tag! win one win me #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #kpop fanfic #enhypen smau #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #heeseung smau #jake sim imagines #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake imagines #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #heeseung au #enhypen au #jay enhypen #jay imagines

[justrustandstardust]

*✧:*one, two, three (it's not only you and me)*:･✧*:

@ryuqzn on X

"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact.

"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing.

after you get stood up, you're ready to cut your losses and head home. when a couple approaches you at the bar with a proposition, you just might end up changing your mind.

MDNI: i'm not joking, this is utter filth and minors should steer clear of it like they're teenage boys and this is a decent haircut.

pairing: geto/gojo/you

a/n: this is for someone special. you know who you are.

important: afab reader, she/her pronouns

word count: 16k (i know, i fucking know)

because i'm clinically insane, i've created a playlist to enchance your listening ~pleasure. here's the spotify version, and here's the youtube version. this is purely for the girls, gays and theys. i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it. (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)

the clock's just struck nine, and you sigh, glancing down at your phone for the umpteenth time that evening. you suppose it's your fault for having such shit taste in men, anyways, for agreeing to meet a loser that didn't even bother to show.

swirling the straw around your drink, you kick your legs out from your seat on the barstool and ponder whether or not to ask the bartender for another. this is already your third drink; you're no lightweight but even you aren't impervious to the effects of three whiskey neats.

sighing again, you decide to cut your losses and call it a night. fuck men, you think distastefully, reaching into your bag for your wallet. literally and figuratively. you got all dressed up for some asshole that couldn't even bother to take you to bed tonight.

you're rooting around in your purse for your wallet when there’s a sudden tap on your shoulder. you glance up, and are met with the faces of possibly the two most beautiful men you've ever seen before in your life. they tower over you, and though you're sitting, you know that even if you stood up they'd easily have several inches on you. the dark-haired man is sporting a half-up half-down hairstyle, the contours of his chest and broad shoulders barely hidden by a fitted dress shirt and leather jacket.

you glance at the other man, who's light-haired and blue-eyed. his waist is so impossibly small in his dress shirt that you almost reach out to wrap your hands around it, just to see if they could fit. they're looking at you like they're seeing through you, and you blink, heady from both the alcohol and weight of their gaze.

"sorry to interrupt, but are you heading out?" the dark-haired man asks politely, leaning forward slightly. you nod slowly, unsure of what he's going to say next.

he chuckles, ducking his head. "ah, that's too bad. my partner and i were wondering if you'd like to come out with us tonight."

"come out?" you say, raising an eyebrow. the white-haired man rolls his eyes, pushing at the dark-haired man's arm.

"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," he says, making direct eye contact with you.

"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, gaze unwavering. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you glance between them, watching as the dark-haired man —suguru?— pushes back, swatting the white-haired man on the shoulder.

"you'll have to forgive satoru, he's a bit upfront. but yes, we would love to get to know you better, if you're interested," he says purposefully, dark eyes meeting yours.

"no pressure, of course. we'd be just as happy to call you a taxi to make sure you get home safe and leave it at that," he adds, nodding at the door. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you glance between them, at the cocksure expression on the white-haired man's face and the carefully open one on his partner's.

"can i know your names?" you manage, and the dark-haired man smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"you can call me geto. this is gojo," he says, gesturing to the white-haired man, who boisterously sticks out his tongue and flashes a peace sign.

you tell them your name in return and geto smiles again, glancing at gojo.

"that's a beautiful name. we'd be happy to do whatever you'd like to do tonight— it's totally up to you. we'll be happy with any choice you make, even if that means our acquaintanceship ends here," geto says kindly but meaningfully, looking into your eyes so you know he's serious. gojo nods beside him, and then smirks.

"wherever you're headed won't be nearly as exciting as us, though," he intones liltingly, brow raised in challenge. geto smacks him upside the head and he winces, pouting at the abuse.

"satoru is just joking," geto says, glancing sharply at gojo. "we are completely okay with whatever you want to do. we just want to make our interest in you very, very clear."

you haven't moved for the entirety of this interaction. you glance between them again, at these two heaven-sent men on a night you were basically begging to be dicked down only to be disappointed by the universe (read: a random loser whose name you can't even remember). swallowing hard, you think that you made your choice as soon as the words left geto's lips.

"i'll come with you," is what finally comes out of your mouth, throat dry. geto's lips quirk upwards and gojo grins, extending a hand to help you down from the barstool.

"just let me pay for these drinks first," you say, going for your purse. geto shakes his head and steps forward, catching your wrist in one hand and guiding it away from your bag.

"i don't think so," he says simply, releasing your wrist and reaching into his back pocket. he throws way too many bills onto the counter and you're trying not to gape as gojo snickers, urging you to take his hand. his palm is warm to the touch as he helps you down from the barstool, geto bringing up the rear with a featherlight touch to the small of your back.

you were right. even with heels, they tower over you. flanked on either side, they walk you to the door, geto pushing it open and gesturing for you to go through. as you pass him, you catch a whiff of versace's eau fraiche, the distinct notes of rosewood filtering through your nostrils. gojo follows behind you, tapping on his phone.

it's cold, and you didn't bring a jacket. you're trying to appear like you're not shivering but geto notices anyways, shrugging off his own leather jacket to drape around your shoulders. gojo steps away, raising his phone to his ear.

"where are we going?" you ask, geto's cologne enveloping you along with his residual body heat. geto glances at gojo, who's speaking quietly to someone on the phone.

"somewhere private," he says, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. he looks at you, something darkening in his gaze. "somewhere no one will disturb us."

gojo hangs up the phone, stepping off the curb into the street. seconds later, a sleek black SUV pulls up, windows tinted. gojo goes around the other side and geto opens the door for you, holding out a hand to help you inside. it's easily the most expensive car you've ever been in, the seats plush and the interior unbelievably spacious. there are four seats facing each other, the front of the car partitioned so the driver isn't visible. gojo takes the seat opposite you, kicking up his feet and folding his hands behind his head.

geto sits down beside you, reaching into a small compartment that evaded your notice to produce a chilled bottle of water.

"so you can sober up," he explains, unscrewing the cap. "we don't want you intoxicated for what's coming next."

"what's coming next?" you parrot, taking the water. gojo snickers again, pulling a lollipop out from god knows where and popping it between his teeth. he sucks, cheeks hollowing around the candy, eyes never leaving yours.

"we're down to do whatever you want to do," geto says, turning to face you. his features are open, honest. "we just need to know what's on the table."

"everything," you reply too quickly, answer coming out instantly. geto chuckles good-naturedly, gesturing to the water.

"then you'll have to get started on that."

you've never chugged water so hastily in your life. the drive is short, ten minutes at best, and the three of you sit in comfortable silence, tempered by the sounds of smooth rnb filtering through the car's speakers. the car pulls up beside a skyscraper, endlessly tall against the city skies. gojo takes the empty bottle from your hand and carelessly tosses it aside, stepping outside and taking your hand in his to help you out of the car. geto goes around the other way, nodding at the driver as the car rolls away from the curb.

the building is locked, and you watch as gojo pulls out a black card, flashing it in front of a sensor. the doors part to reveal an immaculate marble lobby, scaffolded by floor-to-ceiling windows that are at least three stories high. building staff are positioned discreetly behind tall counters, none of whom pay gojo and geto any mind as the three of you make their way through to the elevators. your heels are clacking on the polished floor, geto's jacket snug around your shoulders.

there are eight elevators, but only one with a sensor. gojo flashes his card again, the elevator doors sliding open. geto holds the door for you as you step inside, taking gojo's proffered arm. he presses the only button on the wall —labelled PH— as geto follows you inside, the doors closing behind him. you're still holding onto gojo's arm as the elevator rises, and rises, and rises. it moves silently, the only sound the clack of the lollipop against gojo's teeth. it's been at least two full minutes and you're starting to wonder if you're genuinely in the stratosphere when there's a quiet ping and the elevator slows to a stop.

geto steps out, motioning at you to go ahead. gojo leads you down the hall to what appears to be the only suite on the entire floor. expecting the black card again, you're surprised when he presses his palm to a large, flat pad, which scans his hand and flashes green. the door clicks open and gojo heads inside, geto once again bringing up the rear.

you're confronted by the most stunning residence you've ever seen. the architecture is open-concept, with two stories connected by a spiral staircase. the same floor-to-ceiling windows from the lobby showcase the glittering city skyline, lights twinkling just below the clouds. everywhere you look, there's sleek leather and white marble, outfitted with tasteful minimal decor and modern art.

"where am i?" is all you're able to say, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. gojo laughs, sliding his jacket off and tossing it onto a chaise in the living room.

"don't worry about it," he winks, pulling the lollipop from between his lips and ignoring geto's subsequent eyerolling. "life is better when you get it to live it in 3D."

"he's a nepo baby," geto interjects, going around the kitchen island and opening two massive fridge doors. "and he's insufferable, so being rich makes him easier to deal with."

gojo huffs indignantly, tossing the lollipop in something discreetly disguised as a garbage.

geto rummages around in the fridge, taking out the most expensive-looking sandwich you've ever seen. "hungry?"

you shake your head, and geto looks at you, imploring. "i know you had the water, but you're going to need....energy, for what we have planned."

choice made. placing your purse down on the island, you make your way over to where he's standing, taking the baguette. hopping onto a stool, you take a bite, eyebrows shooting up your forehead at the rich flavours. brie, prosciutto, fig jam.....the list continues.

geto glances at gojo, who's now only wearing his slacks, dress shirt and tie. "satoru, you can start getting the room ready. i'll bring her when she's done."

you’re mildly surprised when gojo makes an affirmative noise and leaves without snark, setting off to one of the many rooms in the suite. after he disappears from sight, geto turns back to you.

"this is the part where i ask how you like it," he says, leaning his elbows onto the kitchen island. you swallow, fig jam tangy on your tongue.

"like i said," you meet his gaze, holding steady. "i like all of it."

geto smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "both ends?"

"every single one," you say purposefully, never breaking eye contact.

he chuckles, nodding to himself. "we're clean, by the way."

"as am i," you confirm, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth. "on birth control, too," you add, after chewing.

"good to know," geto remarks, pushing himself off his elbows. he helps you down from the stool, taking his jacket from your shoulders and setting it down on the counter. fingertips dancing along the small of your back, he guides you down the same direction gojo went earlier, stopping in front of a large door.

"last chance to change your mind," he says, voice low. he's looking at you openly, honestly. "there won't be any hard feelings either way."

you've never been so sure of anything in your life. "i want this," you breathe, suffocated by the truth of that statement. "i want both of you."

geto exhales, slow smile gracing his features. wordlessly, he opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead. the room is dimly lit by cool-toned floorlights, but you can make out the shape of a bed in the centre, warmed by a fireplace at its opposite. the same floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city skyline, creating a glittering effect along the room’s walls. you squint at the far-off section of the room with tiled floor, following the tile into a bathroom that houses a massive, glass doored rainfall shower, alongside an enormous claw-foot tub.

gojo is standing in front of the bed, lanky stature backlit by the cityscape outside. he's still wearing his shirt, slacks and tie, sans his shoes. the door clicks shut behind you, and you sense more than see geto take a step towards you, breath ghosting along the nape of your neck.

deafening silence engulfs the room as every single one of your hairs stand on end, the energy in the space charged. gojo hasn't moved and neither has geto, both standing stock still in the silence like they're waiting for you to make the first move.

you let out a shuddering exhale and that's all geto needs, his hand wrapping around your jaw as his mouth attaches itself to your neck. he sucks harshly, hungrily, as his other hand grips your waist from behind, pressing the entire length of his body against yours. gojo is in front of you in an instant and you don't waste a second, yanking him forward by the tie to crash your lips together.

the artificial flavour of the lollipop is sweet on his tongue as he kisses you with intention, hand slipping down to hike your leg around his waist. geto's tongue is working against your neck at the same time, the sensation of two hot mouths overwhelming. gojo sucks your lower lip into his mouth as geto bites the juncture of your neck, eliciting a whine into gojo's teeth.

heat is pooling between your legs and you can feel that they're both hard already, gojo pressed into your front and geto against your back. geto suddenly releases your jaw, taking a step back as gojo lifts you up, settling your other leg around his waist. he's still making out with you as your arms wrap around his shoulders and he walks you both to the bed, carrying you like it's effortless. he sets you down onto the bed, breaking away once you're laid flat on its smooth surface.

you make to grab his tie again and he snatches your wrist in one hand, smirking.

"eager, are we?"

"a bitch, are you?" you snipe, enjoying the way his eyes flash with amusement. he pins your wrist above your head, dipping his head down so that your noses are brushing.

"if you want something, you'll have to ask it for it," he says lowly, gaze flickering down to your mouth. "nicely."

"make me," you retort breathlessly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. he kisses you back just as hard, broad shoulders caging you in as your hand twists uselessly in his grip.

he breaks away, releasing your wrist. geto reappears, shirtless and wearing only his black jeans. you barely have time to appreciate the muscled planes of his chest and the toned flesh of his abs as he grabs the back of gojo's head, messily bringing their mouths together.

gojo moans against his lips, palms coming up to press at his chest. without breaking apart, geto rips his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as fabric tears. somehow, the tie remains.

gojo shoves him away, stepping backwards to frown at what used to be his shirt. "that was expensive, you know."

"you can buy a dozen more," geto says mildly, turning back to you. you're transfixed, staring at gojo's bare chest that is just as defined as geto's, at the dip of his collarbones and the defined ridges of his abdomen.

gojo makes a face at his ruined shirt and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with geto.

"you're wearing far too many clothes," says geto, a shadow passing over his features. you swallow, shrinking into the bed as something that's not quite fear passes over you— more like an impending sense that something is coming.

geto climbs onto the bed, getting all up into your space immediately. claiming your mouth with his own, he kisses you like he fucking owns you, subsuming every thought in your mind to the point that you don't even notice him unzipping your dress.

he removes your clothes with a care that he didn't use in taking off gojo's, gently tossing your dress aside when you're down to your bra and panties. you're staring up at him as he leans down into you, warm hand resting on your hip.

gojo reappears with a remote in his hand, and you hear a click followed by the same smooth rnb from the car. there must be speakers threaded into the walls because the sound feels like it's coming from everywhere, weaving together the neurons in your brain that have been fried by sensation.

"is this okay?" geto's voice is soft but his eyes are piercing as he lifts you up towards him, palms supporting your back. you nod haltingly, heat flooding your veins as he inclines his head to kiss you again. without stopping, he deftly unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it against the wall without looking. all of a sudden, he pulls away, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed.

gojo swaps places with him, coming up to your torso. you raise an eyebrow in question and geto smiles knowingly, climbing onto the bed and settling in front of your legs.

"satoru and i have different areas of speciality, you could say." gojo's smirk is back on his face as he takes in the sight of your naked chest, watching the flush that you're fighting spread down your clavicle.

"don't be shy, now," he teases, ignoring your death glare. you're about to retort but the air suddenly leaves your lungs in a whoosh as gojo bends forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his soft hands cup your breasts, massaging firmly as his tongue flickers against the hardening bud.

you let out a shaky exhale, toes curling as one of your hands comes up to rest in his hair. the sensation is so intense that you almost don't notice geto sliding your panties down your legs until you feel the cool air against your damp lips.

gojo continues his ministrations, sucking your nipple into his mouth and tonguing it hard, nipping when you let out a low groan. geto spreads your legs and settles between them, kneeling on the bed. dark head bent, he drops lingering kisses up your legs, all the way from your calves up to your inner thighs. his lips are warm on your skin and you're absolutely throbbing, aching for it as he gets closer to your burning core.

gojo has switched to your other breast and geto is pressing butterfly kisses to the soft flesh of the inside of your thighs, sucking tender hickeys into the thin skin. the sensations are too much and not enough all at once, overwhelming your senses but not quite satisfying the ache inside you for more.

geto's mouth is everywhere except where you want it most— he's at the crease of your thigh, at the seam of your hip, the bump of your pubic bone. his breath ghosts over your slick lips, a sly smile lifting the corner of his mouth when you buck up, chasing. as gently as a butterfly beats its wings, he circles your clit with the pad of a fingertip, not quite touching it in the way he knows you want him to. you can’t hold back the whine that escapes your mouth, and geto’s lips quirk, his expression amused. his hands are warm on your hips and it feels like coming home when his lips finally meet yours, lapping up the slickness in your folds like a man parched.

gojo has released your nipples and he's positioned himself behind you to prop your upper body up, nibbling on your earlobes with his palms still cupping your breasts. geto's dark head is buried between your legs and he's eating you out like he was fucking born for it, alternating between dipping his tongue inside of you and sealing his lips around your clit. sucking down rasping breaths, you see stars when his mouth forms a vacuum around your clit and he sucks hard , your thighs clamping around his head as your hand fists in his hair.

geto hasn't stopped, arms beneath your thighs to hold your hips down as he pushes his tongue deeper inside your sopping centre. a choked-off moan falls from your lips and gojo snickers into the skin of your neck, his naked chest and the fabric of the tie pressed into your spine.

"you're enjoying dessert, aren't you, suguru?" gojo's voice is lilting and you would retort but you can't, too busy gasping for air as geto just hums in agreement, relentlessly tonguing your clit.

gojo begins leaving lovebites all around your shoulders and you can feel his fingers twisting and pinching your nipples, the sensation heightened by geto feasting between your legs. you're so wet that his chin is glistening with it, a few strands of his dark hair slipping out and falling into his face as he eats you out with vigour, the tendons in his jaw tensing from effort.

“oh god, don’t stop,” you cry out, fists clenched in the sheets. gojo chuckles behind you, tweaking a nipple and laughing when you spasm. 

“did you hear that, suguru? i think you’re gonna have to step it up.” 

without taking his mouth off your clit, his long fingers slide so smoothly inside of you that they may as well have been there all along. pumping shallowly, he continues to suck on your clit, pulsing his lips and flicking his tongue around the most sensitive part of you.

you keen, high and loud, and geto doesn't need words to understand, pressing a final kiss to your clit and leaning back to thrust his hand properly. he crooks his fingers, searching, and you cry out when he hits your spot, toes curling so hard it hurts. 

"right there, huh?" geto murmurs knowingly, fingering you ruthlessly. you ride the high, sparks bursting behind your eyelids. the solid warmth from behind you suddenly disappears as gojo lowers you onto the bed, and you crack an eye open just in time to see him grin devilishly and press his fingers down onto your mound, right above where geto's hand is inside of you.

the combination of inner and outer pressure is too much and you mewl, legs jerking as your walls contract and a sensation you've never felt before washes over you, almost like your body is releasing a gush of liquid.

"we got her to squirt," gojo declares smugly, continuing to press down as geto works you through your orgasm. you're arching off the bed, sheets clenched in your hands as wave after wave of pleasure crashes down upon you, an infinite tsunami upon a helpless shore.

after what feels like forever, you slump back down, chest heaving. geto gently withdraws his hand from between your legs and licks his fingers while gojo lifts his hand to release the pressure from your pelvis. you lift your head up to see gojo standing at the foot of the bed, palming the front of his pants, face scrunched up in want. geto looks to be faring no better as he gets up to stand beside gojo, bulge straining against his jeans.

"i think it's time we got these off," geto says, unzipping his pants. gojo shucks off his slacks in one go, ripping off the tie that somehow remained around his neck throughout all of this. suddenly they're both down to their underwear, black boxers tented.

they glance at you and then back at each other before gojo drops to his knees on the floor, pulling geto's boxers down with him. you watch, spent, as gojo takes geto into his mouth, swallowing around him and fondling his sack. geto tips his head back and rakes a hand through gojo’s hair, peering down at his head bobbing on his length. you're enjoying the show as geto thrusts shallowly into his mouth, his abs flexing with the motion.

gojo’s adam’s apple is bobbing as his throat works, and he keeps going until geto's breathing grows laboured, only stopping when geto gestures with his chin toward you on the bed. gojo releases him with a lewd pop and barely has a second to collect himself before geto's pushing him onto his back, stripping off his underwear and taking him down into his throat in one go. you watch, amazed, at what appears to be geto's total lack of a gag reflex.

"throat goat," gojo remarks fondly, reaching down to thread his hand through geto's dark hair. geto slaps his thigh and gojo chuckles, breaking off to groan when geto urges him on, pushing his ass forward to get him to fuck his throat.

you're still recovering from your climax when geto releases gojo from his mouth, wiping at the saliva around his lips. gojo glances at you, grinning as he pushes himself up onto his palms.

"want a turn?" he asks impishly, gesturing at geto, who stands up. you raise yourself into a sitting position up by the elbows and regard the two men in front of you and their well-endowed assets. gojo is longer but slightly thinner, like a water bottle. geto is girthier and thicker, like a beercan. you'll happily take both.

"i think she's got another orgasm in her, don't you?" geto climbs onto the bed and tugs you onto your hands and knees, gojo going behind you. "why don't you see what you can do about that, satoru."

you're gazing hungrily at the girthy length of geto, veiny and uncut up close. he's still glistening with gojo's saliva as you lick the tip, geto's palm coming to rest on your head. you're taking him down inch by inch as you feel gojo settle behind you, shivering as he trails a finger through the wetness gathered at your lips.

one hand gripping your hip, he lines himself up and pushes inside your wet heat until he's flush against your ass, forcing all the air out of your lungs. in the same instant, you reach the base of geto's length, full at both ends. you moan around him as gojo begins to thrust in earnest, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room as he fucks you relentlessly.

"shit," gojo says lowly, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you're taking me like a champ."

geto's eyes are closed, his palm resting on your hair. you pull back, flattening your tongue beneath the head while your hand jacks off whatever your mouth can't reach. gojo changes angles and you can suddenly feel him in your chest, his tip so deeply inside of you that it's kissing your cervix.

you pick up the pace, tonguing the slit, and geto is openly groaning, gripping your hair hard enough that it hurts. you don't mind it— you encourage it, in fact, while gojo's fucking you hard enough that your walls will surely remember his shape. every time he brings you back onto his length, heady pleasure shoots through your veins, your toes tingling hotly. you can already feel another orgasm coming as gojo reaches a hand between your legs, searching for your clit. he twists his fingers evilly, not letting up when you let out a muffled moan around geto's girth.

"i think she likes it," gojo says, smirk audible in his voice. he rubs in tight, deliberate circles, his hand quickening as you stop sucking and just breathe, eyes rolling back in your head when he snaps his hips and simultaneously hits your spot.

you hear him laugh breathlessly, thrusts hindered somewhat as your walls spasm around him, his pace slowing as you come for the second time. he fucks you through it, pulling out when it becomes too much. gojo smacks your ass, laughing at the surprised yelp that exits your mouth.

"couldn't resist, princess," he winks at you, coming around to the front of the bed. again, they swap positions and geto moves to the back, warm hands settling around your waist. he brings you backwards onto him, your shoulder blades against his chest. he's warm, so warm, and you melt into his arms. he presses soft kisses into your neck, humming when you sigh contentedly and tip your head onto his shoulder.

"aren't you glad you had that sandwich?" he murmurs into your skin, hands roving all over your pliant body. the sound of a cap opening interrupts your reply, which was just going to be an mmhm-hmm anyways. you blink, watching gojo squeeze lube onto his fingers and stroke geto between your legs, whose eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.

after a few moments, gojo releases geto, who then lifts you up like you weigh nothing, settling you above him on your knees, one braced on either side of his hips. your back is still to his chest, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, cocking your head in question.

"lube?" you say, watching geto chuckle. he smooths a hand down your side, soothing.

"i know you don't have any problems getting wet," he smiles, gaze flickering down your body between your legs. he looks up, eyes dark. "but we can't have you feeling raw just yet."

your heart jumps in your chest when a hand grabs your chin, turning your head to face the front. you're met with the full mast of gojo, who's up on his knees in front of you, his shins pressing into the bed. it happens all at once and geto is lowering you down as you swallow around gojo, the taste of precome heady on your tongue. you sink down onto geto for what feels like forever, his tip reaching towards your ribs.  

if gojo fucked you relentlessly, geto fucks you like god himself commanded him, a divine task ordained straight from the heavens above. he bounces you up and down, pushing his hips up to meet yours on every thrust. your palms are braced on gojo's thighs and you can barely breathe around him, glancing up to see his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he wantonly pumps his hips into your mouth, sliding his length along your tongue.

geto's hands are vicelike around your waist, his hot, hard length stretching your walls every time he brings you down onto his hips. they're working in tandem, each fucking a pair of your lips, and it’s so fucking good that you could cry. you’re absolutely stuffed at both ends, hot pleasure emanating from your core to spread throughout your body every time geto pushes back into you. another orgasm is cresting on the horizon as he picks up the pace, jackrabbiting his hips as he lifts you up impossibly higher, the bed creaking from the combined force of their movements.

"god, you're tight," geto grunts, punctuated by the sound of his balls slapping your ass. "so tight, just for me."

you're so close, you're so fucking close, and you've stopped sucking entirely as geto fucks you harder, your breasts bouncing in time with the motion. gojo suddenly pulls out from your mouth and you don't have time to react before he drops into a kneeling position and grasps your jaw in his hand, bringing your lips to meet his own. gojo slides his tongue inside your mouth, his hand moving up from your jaw to hold your head as his tongue caresses yours.

you moan into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you pull him flush to your chest while geto continues to fuck you, bliss radiating outward from where you’re joined. your nipples are pebbled against the smooth planes of gojo's clavicle and he deepens the kiss, fingers weaving into your hair as his other hand slips down to dance along your overly sensitive clit.

geto tilts his hips and floods every sense in your body with white-hot ecstasy as he rails your spot, the curve of gojo’s smirk sharp against your mouth while his fingertips stroke your clit. you drench the bed for the second time that night as you come, back arching in geto's grip as gojo's fingertips tease the lips stretched around geto's girth, still pistoning in and out of you.

"nice, we got a second squirt," gojo crows, eyes crinkling in mirth as he draws back. he raises his hand for a high-five and you don't have to look to know geto is rolling his eyes as he slaps gojo's hand. geto slowly brings you down to lean onto him, his chest rising and falling from exertion. he's still buried inside of you and you can barely think through the haze in your mind, sagging limply into his arms. geto supports your weight, whispering quietly into your hair as you come down.

"that's it, just like that." his voice is gentle, unlike the way he was moving inside of you moments ago. he twines his arms around your waist as you both catch your breath, the broad muscle of his chest firm against your back. your eyes are closed and your entire body is relaxed, held up by geto's sturdy frame.

"you guys didn't come," you manage to say, voice thick. you feel geto's chest rumble as he laughs, low and deep in your ear.

"that's very kind of you to be concerned," he says, soft smile audible in his voice. "but it's all good. we like to draw things out."

you feel the bed dip as gojo climbs back on, the click of a bottle cap echoing in the quiet of the room.

"we're going to give you a bit of a break," gojo tells you, voice teasing. "you can relax and enjoy the show."

you blink blearily, limbs liquified as geto lifts you off and carefully sets you to his side, wrapping an arm around you as you curl up beside him. you watch while gojo lubes him up again, twisting his wrist knowingly when he meets the head. gojo glances up and they share a private moment, conversing without words. you're content to watch as an intimate smile graces geto's features and gojo leans forward to peck him on the lips, still stroking all the while.

geto withdraws his arm from around you, sitting up to settle gojo on top of his thighs. he spreads gojo's legs over his own, their faces close enough to share the same breath. the lube reappears and gojo leans his weight onto his palm, watching as geto squeezes some over his fingers. they're in an incredibly intimate position, almost lotus-like, legs folded together and gojo's other hand braced on geto's shoulder.

geto slides the first finger inside of gojo with so much confidence that it's obvious they've done this a thousand times before. gojo's spine arches and he exhales hard, eyelids fluttering shut as geto starts stretching him out. geto's dark eyes are trained on his disappearing finger, and you can see gojo's hand tensing around his shoulders. gojo's shaky breaths echo around the room when geto adds another finger, thrusting with more urgency. there's a squelching sound every time his hand meets gojo's ass, and you watch in awe as gojo takes it like he was fucking born for nothing else.

they're both hard as hell, and you're starting to wonder if it's getting painful. you don't have time to contemplate this thought for long before geto's up to three fingers and he changes the angle of his hand, gojo's body jerking violently as geto deliberately hits his spot. geto cranes his neck to suckle at gojo’s nipple, smirking into his chest when he mewls. he squeezes gojo's ass with his free hand and continues pressing his spot as gojo spasms, his lips parted in a soundless moan.

geto carefully withdraws his hand, kissing gojo softly on the lips before taking his wrists and pulling him up onto his knees. geto climbs off the bed, going to stand behind gojo. his eyes flicker over to you and you meet his gaze, cloudy with want. geto doesn't look away as he pushes himself inside of gojo, his arms wrapping around gojo's torso to tug him up against his chest. he starts thrusting carefully, letting gojo adjust to the feeling of his full length inside of him.

you can feel yourself getting wet again as geto finally closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to gojo's neck as he pulls out slowly, bringing his hips forward again. you're brimming with hunger as you watch their bodies move together, geto's one hand wrapped around gojo's throat and the other pressed flat to his chest, holding him upright. gojo is making low noises, quiet ungh-ungh-unghs as geto fills him up, again and again.

"who do you belong to?" geto grunts into his neck, hand tightening around his throat, gojo’s adam’s apple protruding between his fingers.

gojo breathes out a shuddering exhale, his knees and shins pressed into the mattress. his entire weight is leaned onto geto, who's somehow supporting him and fucking him simultaneously.

gojo bites his lip, furrowing his brow. you can see the muscles of geto's ass flexing as he plunges into gojo, not letting up for even a second.

"well," gojo rasps, sounding like he's going for contemplative but ending up wanton instead. "you'll just have to ask george clooney."

geto’s balls slap gojo's ass when he delivers a particularly punishing thrust, pushing all the air out of gojo in a loud huff.

"are you sure about that?" geto sounds remarkably composed for a man who's inside another man's ass.

gojo is only able to make a noise of affirmation in response, a strained uh-huh through his teeth. his giggle is breathless when geto releases his throat to slap his cheek, the thwack loud in the quiet.

"why don't you try again," geto's voice is rough and he changes angles, finding exactly what he's searching for when gojo's body jackknifes into his chest.

"fine, you got me,” gojo moans, throwing his head back onto geto's shoulder. "tell george that i'm —ah!— cheating on him with matt damon.”

this was clearly not the answer geto was looking for. he quickens his pace, slamming his hips hard enough into gojo’s ass to bruise. reaching a hand around to wrap around gojo’s length, his fist is a blur as he strokes in time with his thrusts.

“who do you belong to?” geto says again, strained but still pointed, leaving no room for argument. gojo’s body is strung taut, every muscle tensed with his mouth open and face pinched tight as the bed shakes.

you can only stare as the veins pop out of gojo's neck, abs contracting with his back arched against geto's chest. "i h— i heard idris elba is free— agh!"

geto releases him and pulls out in the same second, taking a full step backwards. gojo lets out a sound that sounds like a sob, body folding in half at the sudden, overwhelming emptiness.

geto continues to stand there, unmoving and unflinching. he's hard as a rock but he looks like he could wait forever as gojo curls in on himself, distraught by the lack of sensation.

gojo whimpers brokenly and brings a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound, his body visibly aching with need. "you," he sobs, on the verge of tears when it finally comes out. "only you. always you."

geto nods, just once, and the relief on gojo's face is palpable when geto yanks him upright and pushes back inside of him in one snap of his hips. geto's rhythm is harsh as he takes gojo again in his other hand, squeezing from root to tip. geto swipes his thumb over the head and gojo makes a choked-off noise, turning his head over his shoulder to tangle their tongues together.

"brat," geto says into his mouth, to which gojo can only whine in agreement.

they're both breathing heavily and it's the hottest thing you've ever fucking seen, the pleasure visible on both of their faces. gojo is biting his lip, eyes scrunched shut, and sweat is beading at geto's temple as he moves, his brows creased. gojo's mouth falls open and he keens, high and loud, body rocking into geto's as they have sex in front of you.

you just met him a few hours ago but you can tell gojo is close, his breaths growing ragged and moans increasing in pitch as he nears climax. right before the event horizon, geto lets go of gojo, stilling his movements but remaining inside of him. gojo lets out an aggravated groan and cracks an eye open, turning his head to look at you.

"this is where you come in, princess," he manages, speech almost slurred. "come here."

he doesn't have to tell you twice. scampering over, you comply when gojo motions for you to turn around. his grip is tight on your ass when he brings your hips back, the hard length of him pressing into the wetness pooled between your legs. he slips inside of your tight heat effortlessly, filling you to the hilt as geto starts fucking him again. gojo is stretching you out and you love the feeling of being so damn full, head hanging low and breasts swaying with the motion as geto fucks gojo and gojo fucks you.

the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you're seeing stars as gojo makes high-pitched sounds, geto's panting filling up the spaces in between his whimpers. it's quite possibly the most erotic thing you've ever experienced, having one man inside of you while another man is inside of him. you can't help but wonder how it feels for gojo, filling up one person with someone else filling him up simultaneously.

they're moving in time with each other, and you hear gojo's breathing become frantic as he gasps. the force of geto's thrusts are pushing him forwards into you, nudging his head repeatedly into your cervix. gojo's palms are hot on your hips, and you feel more than see his body tense up as he approaches orgasm. a loud gasp is pushed out of his chest when geto reaches around to pinch his nipples. 

gojo chokes on air, rutting forward into you and pushing himself back onto geto in the same moment. he sounds wrecked with sensation as geto doesn't stop for a second, pounding into him while you clench and milk him for all he's worth.

"fuck, suguru, i'm gonna— fuck, i'm coming," gojo cries, spilling deep inside of you. geto fucks him through it, pushing gojo's load deeper inside of you as he keeps coming. gojo has stopped moving and just rides out his climax, grip loosening around your hips. geto's forcing him forwards into you over and over again, the motion bracketed by gojo's unfettered groans and his own harsh panting. after a long minute, you feel geto pull out of gojo and gojo pull out of you, the lewd noises juxtaposed against the soft music still playing.

gojo flops down onto the bed beside you, chest heaving. geto disappears into the bathroom only to reappear moments later with a damp towel, which gojo catches in one hand. he goes again into the bathroom and you hear the sound of the shower starting up.

"what's he doing?" you ask, watching gojo's chest rise and fall. he holds up a finger, slowing his breathing before he answers you.

"cleaning himself up," he says between lungfuls of air. he turns his head to look at you and winks. "he needs to wash up for what we have planned next with you."

you don't have time to ponder exactly what that could entail before gojo suddenly sits up and manhandles you onto your back, his hands pushing your collarbones. you can feel his release leaking out of you, slippery in between your thighs.

"remember what i said about asking nicely?" his blue eyes are piercing as they bore into yours. gojo is close enough that you can count his eyelashes, and you catch the lingering scent of ysl’s black opium cologne. you swallow, toes tingling at the sheer proximity.

he leans into you and you're dumbstruck by the broadness of him as he cages you in, dipping his head down to brush his nose against yours. barely breathing, you have to bite back a whimper as gojo’s mouth moves to your throat.

"manners are important, you know." sucking hungrily, he spreads your legs with a knee, reaching down to clean up the mess he made inside of you.

"shocked that you would know, seeing as you don't have any," you choke out, nails scrabbling at his shoulder blades while he wipes you clean, the light touch of gojo's hand stark in contrast to the teeth at your throat. you feel him grin into your skin.

"i'm demonstrating them right now, aren’t i?" you can't tell if you're wet from him coming inside of you or from the way he's touching you, once again too much and not enough all at once.

"don't gentlemen always clean up the messes they make?" gojo asks rhetorically, lips moving on your skin. "i'm nothing if not a gentleman."

"and i'm the goddamn president," your voice wobbles but it comes out sufficiently derisory for you in this moment. "since we're telling jokes now."

gojo bites, sucking hard enough to leave a purpled bruise. you can't stop your hand from twisting in his hair, your body arching up into him.

"i know what you want," gojo’s voice is low as he tilts your jaw up for better access, his mouth hot on your neck. he throws the soiled towel aside without looking. "and i'm not going to give it to you until you ask. nicely. "

he moves down your body, leaving bruising kisses along your sternum, your ribs, your hipbones. his palms are cool when they press into your knees, pushing your legs apart so he can kneel between them. gojo looks up at you from beneath his lashes, daring you to retort.

"i know you can do it," he drawls, voice lilting in condescension. he grazes a finger through your slick folds, darting away when your eyelids flutter. "all you need to do is ask."

sheets clenched in your hands, you bite your lip. looking down, you appraise the cocky grin on gojo's face, his eyebrow raised in challenge. he's a bitch, for sure, but it takes one to know one.

"no," is all you say, watching his gaze darken. "i don't think i will."

gojo's mouth is above your clit in a flash, breath hot on your slick lips. your hips buck up involuntarily and he leans back, laughing. you kick at his chest with a foot, resisting the urge to pout.

"come on, it won't kill you," he says mockingly. "it might even do you good to learn some manners." 

his hands are firm on your hipbones and he dips his head back down, breathing along your lips. every fibre of your being is on fire and you want it so bad it hurts, throbbing hotly at your core but you will not give him the goddamn satisfaction.

he presses open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, snickering at the sharp inhale through your nose when he scrapes the thin skin with his teeth. an accidental moan slips from your mouth when he sucks a hickey into your hip, the hand that flies up to stifle it coming too late.

heart racing, a devious smile suddenly quirks your lips. "i don't need to ask," you say, tone just as mocking as gojo's. "to know geto is better at eating me out."

gojo stills against you, his mouth hot on your skin. he draws back slowly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. his grip tightens around your hips and you meet his gaze unwaveringly, watching as a shadow passes over his features.

he cocks his head, looking all the world like a predator about to snatch his prey.

"you know," he begins, and there's nothing joking or lighthearted in his tone this time. "suguru got to have his dessert, but i never got to have mine."

there's no time to ready yourself before gojo's mouth is on you, his tongue sliding inside to your centre without hesitation. your hips jerk up and he's holding you down as he licks into you, tongue caressing your walls. you cry out, one hand gripping the sheets and the other twisted in his hair. you're struck by the thought that he can probably taste himself but judging from the way he's eating you out, he clearly doesn't care.

gojo's head is moving beneath your hand as he continues ravaging you, pulling back only for a second to release one of your hips. when his hand enters you, his fingers somehow feel even deeper than his entire length did ten minutes ago. gojo is unrelenting, pushing his index and middle fingers in and out so quickly you're choking on air. every nerve in your body has been set alight, silvery ecstasy coursing through your veins like drugs as he doesn’t stop. 

he's suctioned his lips around your clit, not coming up for air as his hand pumps inside of you. gojo's mouth is warm and wet as he licks and he doesn't let up even when you spasm, his forearm firm across your pelvis to hold you down while his fingers hit your spot, again and again.

you can't even moan because you can't breathe. your eyes are scrunched shut and your back is arched off the bed. you don't have to look to feel his nose pressed into the top of your mound as gojo eats you out like he's fallen ill and your folds are hiding the antidote.

you're just about to come and he stops all at once, removing his hand with a squelch and releasing your clit from between his lips. you blink blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you peer down at him. gojo's got a challenging look on his face, staring up at you resolutely.

"say please," he says, and you're about to shake your head when he leans closer to you, lips gleaming and chin slick. he trails a finger through your folds, dripping from how close you are and his own saliva. gojo's fingertip circles your clit without touching it, his touch featherlight.

"if you want to come," his voice is low, without mirth. "say it."

every cell in your body has been besieged by want and it seems like he can tell, the little shit. the corner of his mouth curls upwards when he pulls back and your body involuntarily lurches up, like it's following him. you're stubborn and you hate losing but you also really, really fucking need to finish under his tongue.

you bite your lip, the haze in your mind leaving you thoughtless save for one aching need. gojo's blue eyes flash and you're suddenly reminded of the snake, right before it entices eve into eating the apple.

his mouth is set in a firm line, expression resolute. there’s fire simmering beneath your skin and you’re absolutely burning with it, tossing your pride aside as the word finally leaves your mouth. 

"please," you choke out, and his mouth splits into a smug grin, teeth shining as brightly as his hair. you only have a moment to feel intense annoyance before gojo's lips are back on yours and the feeling is instantly replaced with mind-numbing pleasure, every endorphin in your brain releasing all at once.

he's thrown your legs over his shoulders, jaw working furiously while his tongue licks into you. gojo's long fingers slip back inside of you seamlessly, aided by how wet you are and his saliva. his other hand leaves your hip and he spreads your folds with his fingers, pushing your clit out and creating the perfect conditions for him to latch his lips around it and suck.

"oh, god," you wail, both hands fisting in his air and toes curling over gojo’s shoulders. you’re heaving shallow breaths but he doesn't stop, his fingers plunging in and out of you as he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and teeth nipping gently at the bud. you’re absolutely drowning in it, choking on air and limbs jerking when you cry out and come. your thighs squeeze his head and he probably can't breathe but you don't care and neither does he as gojo basically lets you fuck his face, taking all of you and then some.

it just keeps going, and going, and going. gojo doesn't come up for air, suckling at your clit even as you sag back onto the bed, spent. he slowly withdraws his head from between your legs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. geto reappears, his body damp, and you crack an eye open to appraise his lithe form.

"she said i'm better at eating her out," gojo winks conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows at you and hopping off the bed to stand up.

you don't have the strength to rebut but you don’t have to because geto rolls his eyes, climbing onto the bed to help you sit up. "i'm fairly certain she didn't."

geto reaches into a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of water. he unscrews the cap and raises it to your lips, his other hand supporting your back as he helps you drink.

"we're giving you another break," geto's voice is soft but his eyes are dark as you nod weakly, water trickling down your chin. geto’s touch is tender on your jaw as he thumbs at the droplets, taking the bottle from you when you're done and propping you up with a pillow. he leans in close, his loose hair falling into his face, to stroke your cheek, gaze never leaving yours.

"watch closely, okay?" he says, and you have the feeling that it isn't a question, despite being phrased as one. you're sitting on one side of the bed, which is massive enough that all three of you and probably a few more could lay comfortably side-by-side with enough room to spare. gojo turns on the fireplace, the embers crackling to life as he draws the curtains closed, casting the room in a warm glow.

gojo walks back to the bed with palpable intent guiding his footsteps, blue eyes fixed on geto. with eyes only for each other, you watch as gojo climbs onto the bed and on top of geto, whose palm has come to rest around gojo's waist, their gazes locked.

a soft sigh falls from geto's lips when gojo begins pressing tender kisses down his neck. touching him in an achingly affectionate way that seems almost uncharacteristic, gojo's hands are reverent as they hold geto’s body close. they're both achingly hard again but there's nothing rushed about the way gojo's lips are moving against his skin, every hitched breath and shuddering exhale deafeningly loud in the silence of the room.

gojo takes his time, making sure there’s not an inch of geto’s body left unmarked by his lips. he’s everywhere— at geto’s ribs, his navel, his thighs, his hipbone. the sound of geto sighing wafts into your ears like smoke, and gojo parts his legs slowly, palms on the inside of his knees. you watch gojo kneel between his legs like he’s praying, taking a long moment to stare up at geto, who meets his gaze unblinkingly. there’s a long moment where they just breathe together, having another silent conversation meant for the two of them alone. 

you have the inescapable sense that you’re being let in on something precious, confirmed by the careful way gojo dips his head down in between geto’s thighs. he brings geto’s legs over his shoulders and geto reaches down to stroke his hair, carding his fingers through the soft strands. from where you’re sitting beside them, gojo’s lowered head is obscured by geto’s thighs, but the way geto inhales sharply through his nose lets you ascertain the moment gojo’s tongue enters him. 

the way gojo licks into him is almost alien to the feral manner in which he was eating you out earlier, all tender kisses and measured swipes of his tongue. it’s like he’s a different person, his touch delicate on geto’s skin as he keeps his legs spread, head moving unhurriedly between his thighs. geto’s eyelids have fluttered closed, his dark hair pooled around his head as gojo continues lapping at him like gentle waves against a serene shore. 

the only noises in the room are geto’s slow breaths and the wet sounds of gojo’s mouth, geto’s hardness untouched between them. he hasn’t made any move to touch himself and neither has gojo, and you watch as his body ripples with bliss, toes flexing over gojo’s shoulders. 

after several long minutes, gojo lifts his head, dropping soft kisses up geto’s thigh as he lays his legs back down onto the bed. geto is breathing heavily, forearm slung over his eyes, as gojo leans over to open the bedside drawer, pulling out another bottle of water. he tips his head back, pouring water into his mouth and swishing it around before swallowing, capping the bottle and closing the drawer. he angles his body back over geto, touch featherlight across his clavicle. 

geto shivers when gojo ghosts a finger down his sternum, closing his eyes when gojo takes his lips in his own. he has one hand on gojo's shoulder, the other sliding up into his hair as their mouths move languidly together. gojo has tugged one of geto's legs around his waist, slow and deliberate, not at all similar to the way he did the same to you earlier. geto arches into him, and their bodies are so intertwined that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, like they've merged into one.

they're so close, in fact, that it takes you a full minute to realize gojo has been inside of geto for quite some time, his hips moving fluidly as geto wraps his arms around his shoulders and crosses his ankles behind gojo's back. his thrusts are measured, unhurried, and geto's eyes close when gojo dips his head down to nuzzle at his neck.

judging from the way he takes all of gojo effortlessly, you think that geto must have prepped in the shower. from your vantage point, you can see the muscles of gojo's back shifting as he moves, geto exhaling loudly as gojo gently picks up the pace, thrusting slowly like they could do this for the next ten, hundred, or even thousand years. the only thing you can hear are their measured breaths, the bed silent as gojo carefully brings his hips forward again and again.

geto makes a low noise and gojo understands, leaning back to lift geto's ankles onto his shoulders. it's only after he fills up geto for the dozenth time that gojo dips down, his hips never faltering, to capture geto's lips in his own. their mouths move against one another as their bodies are joined, geto's palms pressed flat to gojo's chest and gojo's hands wrapped around geto's thighs.

you watch them make love and it's breathtakingly intimate, breath hitching in your throat when they break apart and geto tucks a strand of gojo’s hair behind his ear. a slow smile spreads over gojo's face, nothing at all like the feral grin that split his lips earlier. he presses a tender kiss to the inside of geto’s calf, tilting his hips up and and letting out a soft chuckle when geto inhales sharply and his eyes snap shut, toes curling and fingers flexing against gojo's chest.

he still hasn't reached between geto's legs and you're starting to think geto must have the stamina of a fucking horse after being sucked and fucked both ways. geto opens his eyes and he meets gojo's gaze, who once again doesn't need words to understand. he pulls out of geto as smoothly as he entered him, climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

geto sighs deeply, still on his back. for a long minute it's just the two of you in the quiet, and you twitch, heat pooling between your legs. he's on top of you in the next moment, pushing away the pillow supporting your body to lay you flat on the bed. "you were watching, right?"

you nod, thinking that it must be evident from how wet you are. geto's hands are braced on either side of your head and he's pulled your legs over his hips, his hair tickling your neck as his head bows down. he's radiating warmth and you catch a whiff of the same versace cologne, musky as he licks an unhurried stripe up your neck.

the energy in the room is charged and you watch his biceps tense, your gaze dropping to the firm muscle of his chest as the firelight lends his body an otherworldly halo. tilting your chin up, geto doesn't look away when he slides into you, his hips meeting yours in one deliberate thrust. your world has been reduced to one point of contact and you're melting into oblivion as geto stays unmoving deep inside of your wet heat, anchored by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

you're staring so deeply into his eyes that you could drown as he just stays there, completely still as your walls clench around him. your mouth is an inch from his own, breaths mingling in the quiet. the room is completely silent save for the distant hum of the shower and the crackle of the fireplace, tempered by your shallow breathing. geto looks at you through hooded eyelids, tingles shooting down to your toes as he visibly holds himself back, trembling with the effort. you’re acutely aware of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears. 

when geto finally draws back and brings himself into you again, it's so good you could cry. the sex is made even more intense by the way he continues to stare through you, dark eyes glittering. never breaking eye contact, he purposefully snaps his hips again, and again, and again, each measured thrust metered by the sighs that escape your lips. your hands slide down from his neck and you can feel the muscle and sinew of his back shifting while he moves, your every sense overtaken by him as he continues to roll his hips. every time his head brushes your cervix your body undulates with pleasure, reducing you to a puddle in his arms. 

geto lowers his head, breath hot against your neck, and you think about the fact that he’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. your bodies are pressed together and you can feel every inch of him as he moves inside of you, deliberate and restrained. you can tell he’s yearning for more but he doesn’t let himself have it, tensely grasping your jaw when you arch up into his chest. he doesn’t pick up the pace even when you rest your hands on his ass, the muscle flexing beneath your fingers as he just keeps going, each thrust calculated and purposeful when he slides in and out of you. chest to chest, you breathe with him, his body firm beneath your palms. he's staring endlessly into your eyes, his own so dark that they could hold the universe. 

you think you could come, just like this, and it's almost like geto can read your thoughts because he stops all at once, pulling out and leaving you devastatingly empty. you’re aching at the loss but distracted by gojo as he suddenly reappears, water dripping in rivulets down his chest. geto holds a hand out behind him, accepting the lube without looking.

"you said you were good with everything, right?" geto turns to glance at you, who can once again only nod in response. geto takes your hand to bring you into an upright position, gojo going to sit behind you and it's reminiscent of before, with his damp skin pressed to your shoulder blades and geto between your legs.

geto squeezes lube onto his fingers, rubbing his palms together to warm them up. he looks up at you through his lashes, dark and daring.

you nod, just once, and geto’s first finger enters your ass with so much confidence that it feels like this is his fucking profession. gojo's palms are again around your breasts, mouth hot on your nape. your breath hitches in your throat when geto adds another finger, scissoring them inside of your ass, his other hand tight on your thigh. groaning low and long, your palms come up to rest on top of gojo's hands as his tongue laps wetly at your skin. he suddenly bites at your shoulder and you don't have the energy to swat at him, making a harrumph sound when he chuckles into your neck.

"you're up to three fingers now, did you know that?" geto says quietly, and you glance down at his wrist as it moves between your legs. damn, he's right.

geto's other hand smooths down your thigh, palm warm on your skin. "you're doing so good."

you can feel geto moving his hand inside of you as gojo presses a lingering kiss to your nape, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest, his legs encasing both of yours. his warmth envelops you as you just breathe, geto's fingers stretching you out.

you feel gojo smile into your skin. "the little lady must be tired, huh?"

your eyes are closed but you make a hmph noise, still lucid enough to retort. "i'm not a little lady, you dickhead."

gojo laughs, a hot puff of air against your neck, his arms snug around your waist. "i was talking about your clit."

chuckling breathlessly, you tip your head onto gojo's shoulder as geto continues scissoring his fingers inside of you. "okay, you're not wrong with that one."

one of gojo's arms slips out from their embrace and he leans to the side, opening the bedside drawer. his other arm suddenly retracts from around you too and your eyes snap open as your hands are yanked behind you, the click of handcuffs thunderously loud when they lock around your wrists.

you swallow hard, tugging on the restraints behind your back. nope, they're tightly secured. your heart is racing as geto removes his hand from your ass, gifting you with a view of his muscled back as he stands up and walks into the bathroom.

"first time being cuffed?" gojo asks knowingly from behind you, tracing a finger down your arm. you shiver, nodding stutteringly to the empty space in front of you. gojo rotates you in his lap to face him, your thighs on top of his own. the scent of his cologne is distinct, the notes of vanilla intensified by your proximity. 

gojo lowers his head to brush his nose against yours, and you absolutely thrill at the danger in his eyes when he leans back. "it takes a lot of trust," he says lowly, glancing down at your body. gojo looks up at you, gaze dark and rife with intent. "and we don't take that lightly."

he moves you both further down the bed, laying flat once he has enough room. you're sitting on his thighs and you feel him beneath your leg, hard and wanting.

geto's palms are cold and wet around your waist when they startle you from behind and you jolt, shuddering when he presses a lingering kiss to your nape. you're sopping again already and you want nothing more than to reach forward and snatch gojo by the shoulders to drag his lips onto yours but you can't.

wrists cuffed, your body is trapped between them with gojo at your front and geto at your back. icy anticipation shoots through your veins and lights a fire in your core. you're completely at their mercy now.

gojo sees it on your face and he doesn't make you ask this time as he lifts your thighs up to guide himself inside, not stopping until the flat plane of his hipbones are pressed against the swell of your ass. mouth wet on your neck, geto bites at your shoulder, reaching around to pinch a nipple before withdrawing his hand, the bed dipping as he climbs off.

gojo's grip is firm on your hips and your knees rest outside each of his thighs, wrists still bound behind your back. the next breath you release stutters as it leaves your lips, yet gojo doesn't move. you grind down onto him, lips puffy from overuse, and take the opportunity to luxuriate in being filled up. it's too fucking good, gojo nestled so deeply inside of you that you can feel him in your sternum.

he slowly raises your thighs up from below, bringing you back down just as carefully. you bite back a whimper, every sense heightened by the way gojo and geto can do absolutely whatever they want to you right now. he brings your hips together again, gradually picking up the pace when you openly groan, breasts bobbing as you ride him.

"she takes it so well, doesn't she?" geto says from behind you, the bed shifting as he climbs on again. gojo makes a noise of agreement, hands moving to your waist to steady you. geto cups your ass, urging you on to help you ride gojo more thoroughly.

"like she was born for it," gojo agrees, squeezing your waist in his hands. one of his fingertips wanders up to your breast, dancing around a nipple. you gasp, wrists straining against the cuffs as gojo retracts, his hand rejoining the other at your waist.

you're moving together and gojo is right there every time you sink back down, thrusting up to meet you. he was right, your clit is tired, and you think that maybe you could come from this alone if he just keeps going. there's a click of a cap, the sound of lube being pushed out of a bottle, but you barely hear it, your nerves strung tight with sensation. 

all of a sudden, there are palms on your spine, pressing you down onto gojo’s chest as he continues pumping his hips, his balls making a lewd sound when they slap your ass. you have no choice but to comply and you choke on air as gojo doesn't stop, the angle changing when you slant forward and allowing him to hit your spot. with your wrists behind your back, you would have fallen onto him but gojo is holding you up, one palm warm around your waist and the other supporting your shoulder.

he's fucking you earnestly now, your face an inch above his own. gojo's breathing hard, sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat as your bodies undulate against each other. once again, you ache to take his lips in yours but he doesn't let you, keeping you in place as he keeps pounding himself into you. you’re drunk with it, throwing your head back as pleasure radiates out from your core. 

there's movement behind you as geto rises up on his knees, one of his hands resting on your ass as it moves up and down. he pushes your spine down even more, raising your ass in the air and gojo is ready, meeting you with his tongue and licking into your mouth. ass up and face down, your veins are flooded with icy hot anticipation and you moan into his teeth, arms twisting futilely behind your back as the cuffs hold you in place. 

time grates to a halt when geto's tip breaches your ass, splitting you open from behind. you choke against gojo's lips, who stops moving, breaking away to let geto enter you properly. he's still holding you up as your head falls forward, dropping towards your chest.

"you okay?" gojo's voice is soft but laden with concern, one of his hands coming up to grasp at your jaw. he lifts your chin to meet his eyes and you're in a daze, the pressure overwhelming as geto continues pushing into you for what feels like an eternity. you nod jerkily, chin moving in his hand, and gojo brings you down to his chest, holding you close as geto keeps going until he's fully inside you at the other end.

there's a long moment where you just breathe, face pressed into gojo's shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you. if you thought you felt full before that was nothing compared to how you feel right now. you're absolutely stuffed to the brim and there's no room left in your lungs for oxygen, every cavern and crevice of your body filled to the brim with nothing but them. 

it's not quite painful but it definitely is a lot, both men shoved in to the hilt. there's only a singular velvety wall separating them and you can feel gojo and geto pressed against each other inside of you. they're still not moving, gojo's palms smoothing up and down your back as he and geto let you adjust to their simultaneous penetration.

you shift your weight and your senses are instantly overwhelmed in a way you've never felt before, every fibre of your being set alight with sensation as hot ecstasy erupts throughout your body. drooping further into gojo's shoulder, you let out a primal groan, unable to produce speech. he makes a knowing noise deep in his throat, a low mhmm-hmm, and gently props you up, holding your torso above his own. the motion moves both of them inside of you and you have to bite back a genuine wail as you feel their thicknesses rub together, hot and hard between your walls.

"just tell us when," gojo says, supporting your entire body like you weigh nothing. geto's palms are warm on your hips from behind and he strokes, soothing. "there's no rush."

geto makes an affirmative sound, the noise loud in the pin-drop silence. you would say something but you're devastated by proximity, gojo inside of you one way and geto in another. your entire being has been subsumed and you're lost in the ocean of their bodies, drifting in the warmth of their hands, the slowness of their breaths, the distinct smell of expensive cologne and sex.

carefully patting your hip, you blink your eyes open as geto gently brings you to the surface. gojo is looking at you, unhurried and steady, and you can feel the same surety radiating from geto behind you.

you heave a shuddering breath, feeling them beneath your skin, in your bones, as they reach into the deepest caverns and crevices of your body. you've never been more certain of anything else in your life when you look at gojo’s face, exhaling loudly to say one word. 

"move."

they don't have to be told twice. gojo pulls out of you in the same instant as geto, both snapping their hips forward to meet at the centre of you. the cry that escapes your mouth is deafening, and the sound is punched out of you again, and again, and again as they thrust together, filling you up beyond measure. you feel like you're going to overflow, brain short-circuiting and body sagging in gojo's hands as he keeps holding you up while he moves alongside geto.

geto quickens his pace and their timing changes, gojo plunging into you in the moment that geto draws himself back. you're not empty for a single second and you fucking love it, choking on air when gojo cranes his neck down to lick your areola. the sounds the three of you are making are absolutely filthy, heavy panting and skin slapping skin as your bodies move together. it's almost like gojo and geto are connected through you and you’re punch-drunk, body moving forwards and backwards on their lengths as they fuck you simultaneously.

you have hands all over you, geto's fingers digging into your hips tight enough that you'll have bruises tomorrow, gojo's arms wrapped around your torso with his palms flat on the skin of your back. you're delirious with it, eyes rolling back as gojo pushes you into a more upright position and in doing so shoves you onto geto, who thrusts forward at the same moment that gojo hits your spot. one of them inside of you was overwhelming but both feels world-ending, pleasure erupting from everywhere and flowing all the way into your fingers and toes. 

you're utterly incapable of speech at this point and you're spewing nonsense; things that sound like words but aren't, guttural moans pouring out of you like rain. your breasts are bouncing furiously and you've never felt like this in your life, each man fucking one of your holes like it's his last day on earth.

arms spasming in the restraints, you keen, high and loud. something visceral has taken over you and the pace they've set inside of you is so much yet somehow still not enough. you need to touch yourself but you can't and you want more, you fucking need more.

"h—harder," you choke, straining against the cuffs. you're aching with desire and burning for release as your entire body is pulled taut by a string that threads through all three of you. "fuck me harder."

the atmosphere in the room changes immediately. gojo's eyes flash and his fingers flex around your waist, the bed shifting as he presses his heels into the mattress to pound into you from below. geto speeds up behind you, thrusting into your ass uninhibited. you can feel them sliding together inside of you and you're fucking choking on air, spluttering as they piston in out of you at light speed.

you're suddenly yanked backwards when a hand grabs you by the cuffs, geto's grip a vice around your wrists. he doesn't stop pushing himself inside of your ass, using your weight as leverage as he leans away to thrust deeper. his free hand seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards and shooting tingles of prickly pleasure down to your toes. with your back bowed, you're basically suspended above gojo, geto's position and his hold on your wrists creating an equilibrium between the two of you that lets him support your weight.

the position has consequently raised your face above gojo’s mouth, who hungrily claims your lips with his own while he continues pulling your hips down onto himself from below. you're teary-eyed from sensory overload, gasping against gojo's lips as geto keeps snapping his hips forwards into you, your folds squelching lewdly as gojo does the same. the scent of their cologne and the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, stifling your lungs as you struggle to suck down air. 

“do—don’t,” you rasp into gojo’s mouth, drunk with the sensation of two hot, hard lengths moving together inside of you. “don’t —ungh— stop.” 

the friction is delicious and it seems like geto thinks so too, his breaths growing laboured behind you. a gasp is punched out of your lungs when he releases your hair to slap your ass hard , the crack audible even amongst all the noises the three of you are making. geto lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips once more, forcing your spine into a slope as he brings you back onto himself at a punishing speed. gojo’s length keeps rubbing into his inside of you and geto is absolutely losing himself in it, fucking you carnally as you feel more than see him finally approach climax.

gojo breaks away and he isn't looking at you anymore, staring past your face at geto, whose eyes are scrunched shut as he jackrabbits his hips. the way he's moving and the sounds he's making are borderline animalistic, all grunts and heavy breathing. geto is unraveling, his movements turning frantic and you can't do anything but take it as he pushes into you over and over again, single-mindedly chasing his own release.

gojo is still thrusting up into you and from the way he's tensed up you can tell that he's close too, but he's not focused on your pleasure or his own right now. his eyes never leave geto, whose lips have parted as he lets himself pump his hips freely into your ass. your entire body jolts from the movement, anchored by gojo's firm arm around your waist and his length still moving inside of you.

"suguru," comes gojo's voice, pointed and direct. geto opens his eyes and looks at gojo, who's wearing the most serious expression you've ever seen on his face. gojo's tone leaves no room for argument when he speaks.

"come."

geto makes a strangled noise and then it's happening all at once, his rhythm stuttering as his balls tighten and he finally, finally orgasms. he's spurting hotly into your ass and it's neverending— geto just continues coming, filling you up with his seed as his body jerks violently, wracked with pleasure.

inside of you, gojo's length has continued to press against geto’s throughout his climax, and he doesn't stop thrusting even as geto comes down. he actually speeds up when geto begins to soften inside of your ass, sitting up and dragging you onto his lap after geto pulls out.  

the desire to rub your clit is so overpowering that you feel like you might actually die. your head twists despairingly over your shoulder, trying to implore geto to take your cuffs off, when a firm hand grabs your chin and turns your head back around.

gojo's gaze is unwavering as he releases your chin to grab the flesh of your ass, thrusting up and ignoring your eyes blown wide in need.

"don't look at him," his voice is even as it cuts through the frenzied wail that escapes your clenched teeth. "look at me."

you're struggling to comply because you've hit your limit— it's all too fucking much, geto’s come is slippery between your cheeks and you’re aching so hard it hurts because you need to come now. you’re gasping so deeply that it sounds like you’re choking but he doesn't care, bouncing you in his lap even as you whine from oversensitivity.

"didn't you hear me?" it sounds like a question but gojo isn't asking. you can't form words, rendered incoherent by the hurricane of sensation. you can feel him getting close too but he supersedes his own desire to finish, focusing entirely on the task at hand.

gojo's fingers tighten around your jaw, his tone just as unforgiving.

"look. at. me. "

it's akin to weathering a torrential downpour when you muster up every ounce of strength left in your feeble body to open your eyes, meeting gojo's unblinking gaze. you're struggling to suck down air while he stares into your soul, slamming you down onto himself for the last time as he spills deep inside of you, coming so hard his eyes roll back in his head. you're still moving in his lap and you're babbling incoherently as he fills you to the brim, his load and geto's separated only by a thin wall inside of you.

gojo exhales harshly, pumping his hips through the aftershocks as you milk him dry. you're trying not to let the despair show outwardly on your face and you're tugging despondently at the cuffs, thrashing so hard in the restraints that your wrists are bruising. it's only because your eyes are open that you see the wicked grin suddenly quirk gojo's lips, and you're powerless to do anything as he abruptly shoves you backwards into geto's waiting arms.

"you didn't think we forgot, did you?" gojo asks devilishly. geto's hands are warm around your chest and his fingers are pinching your nipples as gojo thrusts up, hard, and directly rails your spot at the same moment his hand darts down to thumb at your swollen clit.

the tension inside your core snaps like a rubber band and the sensory processing centre in your brain implodes instantly, every cell in your body igniting all at once. the raw ecstasy that courses through your veins is so visceral that you feel high, floating somewhere outside of your body as it just doesn’t stop. you barely register that you’re releasing wave after wave of liquid around gojo as your limbs convulse helplessly against geto's chest, every fibre of your being utterly consumed by sensation. the last thing you hear before passing out is gojo's breathless laughter, blackness engulfing the edges of your vision as you fall endlessly into geto's arms. 

*****

you don’t know how much time has passed when strong arms scoop you up, wrapping around your shoulders and under the backs of your knees, carrying your limp body like you weigh nothing. your hand falls toward the floor and you absently wonder when the cuffs were taken off, your other arm folded into a warm chest. head lolling towards a collarbone, the scent of jasmine permeates the corners of your subconscious. you’re distantly aware of being carried into the bathroom, cradled with painstaking care. 

there’s movement around you, the sound of footsteps and taps being turned on, the slow rush of water as it fills up the tub. your eyes are still closed when you’re carefully passed from one pair of arms to another, enveloped by warm water as you’re settled against the smooth skin of a chest, arms wrapping securely around your middle. 

you’re resting on top of firm thighs, enveloped by warmth. you would open your eyes but you can’t because your body isn’t listening, limbs unresponsive and head thick with cottonwool. low sounds are falling from your lips, incoherent murmurs punctuated by the air you forcibly drag into your lungs, made nearly impossible because every fibre of your being is utterly spent. you’re suspended in the water and in this moment in time, succumbing to the black hole created by the vortex of sensation. you’re anchored by the body holding you close, palms around your middle and skin against your spine. a soft kiss is dropped on your nape before your head is gently tilted onto the smooth plane of a shoulder, your throat exposed. 

behind your head, there are hands lathering up your hair, working shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp. you make a satisfied noise, deep in your throat as the scent of citrus fills the room. shampoo is smoothed all the way to the ends of your hair before the hands retract and you hear footsteps walk around to the other side of the tub, the water rising as another body steps in. once again, you’re passed to waiting arms, a hand settling around your midsection while the other supports your spine. another pair of hands begins to wash the product out of your hair from behind as you’re held chest to chest, rinsing your hair with the bathwater until all you can smell is citrusy shampoo. 

eyelids fluttering, you suddenly come face to face with geto, who’s blinking down at you. he smiles softly as gojo finishes washing your hair, pressing his lips to your forehead when you let out a gratified sigh. limbs still immobile, the water moves around you as he carefully hands you back to gojo, who’s ready at the other end of the tub. your body is completely pliant as gojo positions you slightly in front of him, leaving enough room between the two of you for his hands to rest comfortably on your shoulders, his thighs beneath yours. 

you sigh again, closing your eyes when gojo kneads the flesh of your shoulders, applying enough pressure to release the tension but not so much that it’s painful. bringing your feet onto his lap, geto presses his knuckles into the sole of your foot, dragging them down when you exhale. they massage you like you’re precious, every touch considerate. you melt, relaxed both by the water and their slow hands. 

geto releases your feet and then there’s the sound of a pump, gojo still holding you up by the shoulders while geto begins to gently work soap into the curves and angles of your body, hands delicate on your skin. in the same moment, you hear gojo squeeze something onto his hands, fingers moving to your hair as he threads conditioner through the strands. 

blinking blearily, you raise a weary hand to your forehead, rubbing at a tender spot in the centre. geto gently catches your wrist in one hand, guiding it away from your face. 

“let us take care of you,” he says softly, submerging your hand beneath the surface of the water. “all you need to do is rest.”

gojo is rinsing your hair again and geto’s thumbs are rubbing tender circles into your temples, easing the hazy feeling in your mind. you’re trying your damnedest to keep your eyes open but you’re surrendering to exhaustion by the second, eyelids drooping as gojo finishes washing your hair. geto takes you in his arms once more when gojo stands up, climbing out of the tub to dry off. 

“you did so well,” geto murmurs into your neck. you would reply but your tongue is leaden, limbs loose as gojo lifts you out of the water, his chest warm against your cheek as he walks you both out of the bathroom and toward a waiting towel on the bed. he lays you flat before carefully unfolding your body to start the process of drying. the towel is fluffy and plush against your flesh and gojo takes great care in touching you, his breathing steady while he caresses your skin through the towel. 

being cleaned up has tired you out and you’re losing your grip on consciousness, head heavy as your eyes close. there are hands supporting your back, raising a bottle to your mouth and gently parting your lips to help you drink. the water isn’t as much gulped as it is poured down your throat, cold seeping into your core. the chill is quickly replaced by a warm blanket, tugged up to your shoulders, and the sensation of two bodies, one bracketing either side of you. 

you’re warm with sleep, listening to the measured draw of their breaths as they inhale, exhale, inhale and exhale again. there’s a palm on your spine and another on your side as you fall into the abyss, content to let the yawning mouth of exhaustion swallow you whole. 

*****

when you wake up several hours later, you have no idea how much time has passed. the bed is empty save for you in the middle, cushioned by a border of pillows. you’re still naked but warmed by the cocoon of the blanket, which has trapped heat beneath its surface. collecting yourself, last night comes back to you all at once, flashes of hot mouths and firm hands and quick tongues. it was by far the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and probably also the best sex you will have until the end of it. 

you sit up, realizing that you’re so hungry you could definitely consume an elephant. your stomach rumbles in agreement and you’re starving but you almost don’t want to leave the bed to bear the cold world outside, the high thread count and goosefeather pillows enticing you to come back even as you stand up. there are clothes laid over a chaise in the corner; upon closer inspection, you see a comfortable bra and underwear, along with a sweater and leggings. your dress from last night is folded neatly, your lacy bra and fancy panties tucked discreetly into a bag beside it. 

glancing down at your body properly, you notice for the first time the bruises around your wrists, which are rubbed raw. you peer down at your chest, which is similarly bruised. still naked, you make your way to the bathroom, gasping at the sight of your body in the mirror. 

there’s no unmarred skin left on your neck; it’s absolutely littered with hickeys and bruises. your thighs are in a similar state, and you twist around to inspect your back, lovebites and marks scattered across your shoulder blades. your ass is bruised red and purple in the shape of fingerprints, the fading handprint impossible to miss across one of your cheeks. dimly, you register a dull throb between your legs. departing from the bathroom, you can’t help but be impressed because damn, they went to town on you. 

you tug the sweater over your head and pull the leggings on, both from designer brands. picking up your dress and the bag, you take a second to marvel at the stunning view before you leave. the residence is situated so high into the sky that you’re struck by the ridiculous thought that they both literally and figuratively took you to cloud nine. 

the suite is even more opulent in the daylight, white marble gleaming and tall arches cavernous as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen. gojo is perched on a barstool when you round the corner, tapping on his phone. geto is at the stove, flipping something in a pan. 

gojo perks up at the sound of your footsteps, spinning around in the stool. “the beast awakens!” 

you make a face at him, setting down your bag and dress onto the counter. “one of us is a beast, and it’s definitely not me.” 

gojo titters, spinning in his chair. “i knew my gut was right when i spotted you.”

there’s a plate piled high with pancakes waiting for you, still warm. syrup and butter are off to the side and you wince when you sit down, pain radiating from your ass even though the barstool’s leather is soft. 

geto turns around, holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says kiss the cook, but don’t touch the buns! the concerned expression on his face makes you bite back your smile. 

“you okay?” he asks, unconvinced when you nod. his brow furrows as he looks at you, scanning your body. “we went really hard last night, i’m sorry. you’re going to be sore for a while.” 

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” you say, picking up a knife and fork to dig into the pancakes. “i’ve never enjoyed anything more in my life.” 

geto chuckles, turning back to the pan. “i’m glad. we had a really good time, too.” 

you’re eating the pancakes with so much fervour that gojo glances up from his phone, an impressed look on his face. 

“we also have eggs and croissants, if pancakes aren’t the vibe,” geto says from the stove, his back still to you. your mouth is too stuffed with pancake to reply. 

“i think she’s fine with the pancakes,” gojo snickers, puffing his cheeks in imitation and ignoring the glare you cast in his direction. 

geto somehow senses that gojo is being a brat and turns around, brandishing his spatula. “the only reason we’re even having the breakfast of a kindergartner is because cavity-man over here needed his sugar fix.” he turns back around to flip a pancake presumably destined for said cavity-man’s stomach. 

“dentists love me,” gojo sniffs, hopping down from the barstool. he breaks the rule emblazoned on geto’s apron and squeezes his ass from behind, letting out a squawk when geto whirls around and smacks him with the spatula. 

cleaning your plate at a remarkable speed, you’re just starting to wonder where your phone and purse have gone when gojo appears with both in his hands. he makes no move to bring them to you and you sigh aggravatedly, climbing down from the barstool to take them from him yourself. 

he smirks evilly, holding them high in the air and far beyond your reach. “didn’t we have a conversation about manners?” 

you resist the urge to jump, mainly because your ass hurts too much to do so, and settle for scowling at gojo, who’s still holding your things tauntingly above your head. he’s so unbearably tall that any hope you have of swatting at his hands is laughable. 

geto walks over and reaches up, fingers plucking your phone and purse from gojo’s hands. he ignores gojo’s indignant huff as he hands them to you. 

“we’d love to give you our numbers,” he says, eyes kind. “if you’re up for it, we’d really like to do this again sometime.”

like a vampire, all you need is an invitation and you’ll just keep showing up forever. “i would love nothing more.” 

standing in front of both of them, you’re once again struck by how tall they are. gojo is leaning an arm onto geto’s shoulder, who’s still holding the spatula. they gaze at you and for a moment you’re reminded of last night. not usually one to be bashful, you duck your head, biting your lip. the events of last night will be staying with you for a while. 

“there’s a car waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready to go,” geto says, and you look up. “though we wouldn’t mind if you stayed a little longer.” 

gojo pushes away from geto, striding forward to grab your wrist and drag you into the living space. he plops you down onto the couch in front of a massive tv, taking your things from your hands and tossing them beside you.  

“you’re right, i’m a fucking beast at mario kart,” gojo drawls, opening something you didn’t realize was a drawer and pulling out two controllers. “i’m princess peach, of course.” 

you accept the controller, rolling your eyes. “why does that make so much sense?” 

gojo doesn’t dignify that with a response, turning on the switch before yelling into the kitchen where geto is still cooking. “suguru, i want extra sprinkles on my pancakes!” 

“kill yourself,” geto calls back. gojo takes this reply as an affirmative and jostles your shoulder, pointing at the nintendo logo when the screen flickers to life. “you can be bowser, since he looks just like you.” 

you can’t help but laugh, the smell of pancakes wafting into the room as gojo glances sideways, his eyes dancing. smiling to yourself, you think that being stood up is the best thing that ever could have happened to you.

#my jjk fic #stsg x reader #gojo x geto #satosugu #gojo x geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu smut #stsg smut #gojo smut #geto smut #satoru x reader #satoru x suguru #satoru x you #suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru x satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #gojo x you #jjk smut #satosugu x you #satosugu x reader #satosugu x y/n

[thestoryofusstan]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

#harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry #harry styles #boss!harry styles x reader #boss!harry styles #ceorry #ceo!harry styles #ceo!harry styles x reader

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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[the-boy-meets-evil]

not according to plan | hjs (teaser)

summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his.

pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit (in the full fic), minors DNI word count: ~1.1k in this teaser (full fic ~22k) notes: johnny suh as the ex (sorry!), also includes other idols not in seventeen solely as face claims, there's a heavy focus on the fake dating, mentions of food & drink, warnings to be added to the final fic fic post date: friday, april 26th (full fic here)

a/n: i started this legit months ago as kind of a joke, talking about it with @shuadotcom but it's finally done (and a lot longer than i anticipated).

thank you to: @wonwussy & @kwanisms who read over this for me (too long ago), and to @cheolism @wooahaeproductions @hannieween, & sj for all the brainstorming help along the way. tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone @crepecakeu

if you'd like to be tagged in this fic (or any of my fics), comment, click here for my tag list, or send an ask 💕

You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 

Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 

Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.

It works.

When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 

His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 

In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 

“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 

“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.

“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 

“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 

Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 

“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 

A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 

In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)

Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.

To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 

“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.

“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.

let me know if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic next week 💕 (and what you think so far)

#joshua smut #joshua fluff #joshua angst #joshua x reader #joshua x you #joshua x y/n #joshua fic #joshua fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt x you #svt smut #svt fluff #svt angst #svthub #kvanity #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios

[comfortless]

would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed

you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.

Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.

He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.

The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.

He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.

A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck

Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD

He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.

There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.

Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.

His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.

There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.

His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.

He’s fucking petrified.

His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.

She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.

He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.

His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.

Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.

That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.

His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.

He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.

Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.

He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.

Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.

When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.

She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.

Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.

She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”

All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.

“Nein… no…”

He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.

She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.

His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.

He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.

Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.

She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.

“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.

There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.

“Only you.”

“Gut… gut.”

There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.

Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.

When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.

There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.

Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?

#könig x reader #konig x reader #Kö saying ‘i love you’ way waaay too early is entirely self satisfying for me ^^ #he would still want to buy things for her instead probably play the role of some rough tough alpha male #but secretly every time she’s snuggled up to him he’s in shambles trying to control his breathing and not propose on the spot

[moonlightspencie]

darling, i fancy you

Description: James Potter is in his second year of university. He's with his friends, having the time of his life! His only problem... a horrible, evil, beautiful, wonderful girl who doesn't seem to return the feelings he's developing for her. His dramatics and flirtatious antics usually work. He just can't quite figure out how to hook this girl.

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: drinking, idiots to lovers, reader is described as american in one line because what is fanfiction if not a bit of self-service on occasion

Word Count: 8.2k

Coming into his second year of university was supposed to be fun. He was no longer jittery or nervous about classes since he’d already been there and done that for a full year. Besides, he was James Potter. Of course he had gotten down the routines like they were nothing to him. It was easy as pie. Now, as he brimming with confidence, he was looking forward to seeing old friends, and meeting new ones. It seemed bright and exciting: and it was, so far! 

Until his second day.

James walked into his final Thursday afternoon class and sat in a seat near the front. He might enjoy goofing off here and there, but he’d be damned if he was going to do any less than stellar in his classes. The class filled fairly quickly, seats being taken all around him. He barely noticed when a girl sat in the seat next to him as he pulled out a notebook and a pen. Until he turned with a small smile that melted off his face as quickly as it arrived. 

“Great,” he grumbled under his breath. 

She looked in the direction of the utterance curiously, blissfully unaware that one of the last few open seats, and the one she just had to choose, was right next to James Potter. 

“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, shaking her head. “I suppose you’re going to try to get me to convince my roommate to fall in love with you again, yeah?”

“Not after last time.”

She scoffed a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you’re selfish and don’t care about the happiness and general wellbeing of others.”

“Right. As if your happiness should be my number one priority,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

James turned his head to her abruptly, feeling quite put off that she’d say such a thing. Him, insufferable? He thought it might do her some good to do a bit of self reflection, and had told her as much last year. It didn’t do any good, obviously, considering she was still just as irritating as ever. 

“She’s dating someone anyway. So you’re out of luck,” she said, seeming quite pleased with herself. 

James was annoyed again. “Dating someone? Great. That could’ve been me if you weren’t so horrible, and now I’ve got to wait until they inevitably break up to—”

“She’s dating a girl, so good luck with that plan of yours, Potter.”

James blinked in surprise. He supposed he never exactly saw Lily with a boy before. But… But he liked her so she couldn’t possibly be interested in girls. What a silly notion, he thought. 

“You’re sure?”

She stared at him for a moment. “Uh… yeah. Pretty sure.”

James hummed in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know until summer,” she shrugged. “She came out to me shortly before she told me she’d been asked out by her current girlfriend.”

“How odd.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression. 

His eyes widened. “No! Not like that. I just… I didn’t realize. I just assumed—”

“Careful how you phrase things, maybe,” she said, looking at him a little suspiciously. 

He nodded quickly. “Right.”

He fell silent for a moment. A few blissful seconds that she basked in. Until he opened his mouth again.

“I just…” he said, then sighed. He thought for a couple seconds. “I don’t think I’ve ever not been able to win someone over before. And this seems pretty bleak for me, doesn’t it?” 

She snorted a laugh, nodding. “Yeah. More than bleak, I’d say.”

James smiled a little, then internally scolded himself. There was no reason to laugh at a joke a girl like her made. How terrible. He was better than that. He straightened in his seat, determined to ignore her now that he really had no use for her with his precious Lily too far out of reach for even him to pull in, all things considered. He pouted for a bit, feeling terribly sorry for himself as the class started. He took his notes, of course, but not without sighing every five minutes or so. 

“Can you cut that out?” 

James looked offended again, glancing at the girl. 

“Cut what out?” he whispered back. 

“The constant sighing. It’s irritating.”

“I’m upset.”

She rolled her eyes, going back to taking notes. He fell silent, but only for a few seconds. 

“You try finding out the girl you’re in love with is gay.”

“For me, that would actually work out.”

James rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Get over it,” she said after a beat. 

He glared at her, then went back to his notes. Again, really only for a few seconds. 

“Wait. Are you gay, too?”

“So what if I am? That’s not really your business, is it?” 

“I— Maybe not. But I’m curious,” James said, looking at her. 

“Stop talking.”

“I just wanna know.”

“You sound like a child,” she sighed, exasperated. “You’re distracting me.”

James gave her one more sour look before turning back to his notes. He was feeling quite annoyed now. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily ‘his business’ what her sexuality was, but he couldn’t help but be curious. Why was that his fault? He couldn’t quite figure it out. He waited until the class ended this time to turn to her again. 

“I don’t mean to intrude—”

“I’m sure you will, though,” she stated. 

James sighed. “You’re so difficult. I’m only curious. I don’t mean anything by it.”

She huffed a breath, then looked at him straight on. He raised his brows in question, hoping she might answer if he tried looking innocent enough. She shook her head. 

“It’s a bit of a rude question, you know?”

“How?” he asked, feeling a little offended. 

“It’s personal.”

“Well I—“ James started to argue, though his voice died. His eye twitched slightly as he thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay. I guess… I guess that makes sense. I just thought it was, like, knowing your hair color or something like that.”

“Personally, it’s something I usually only discuss with my friends. Not with a strange boy who I’ve only spoken to when he decided he liked my roommate.”

“That’s mean.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“It’s still mean,” James said, standing up with his bag. 

She did the same. 

“It’s honest.”

James pouted a little. “I’m only trying to make conversation.”

She looked at him for a moment, and he looked right back, his hand on the strap of his bag. He quirked a brow when she was silent for a second. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said at last, not unkindly, but definitely not in a friendly manner. 

Of course, James had to relay this ridiculous interaction to his roommates when he got back to his flat. He sprawled out on the couch, his hand flipping off the side to touch the floor and his cheek pressed against the cushions. 

“She’s evil. There’s something in her that isn’t right. I’m sure of it.”

Sirius furrowed his brow. He’d been hearing about James’s plights with this woman since last year. It always seemed that his buttons got pushed so easily by her, and Sirius couldn’t help but wonder how on earth James kept getting himself into these situations

He sighed softly, leaning back into the armchair to the left of James, a hand running through his long, dark hair before settling over his face.

 “You’ve been dramatic plenty of times before, Prongs, but this might be a new height you’ve climbed to,” Sirius said, his voice slightly muffled through his hand. 

“Mm. Not quite evil to keep that sort of thing to yourself. I don’t run around campus advertising that I’m queer,” Remus added, walking into the living room with a cup of tea. 

Remus settled on the ground near Sirius’s chair, leaning his back into the arm of it as he stretched his long legs out. He did plan on doing so on the couch, but it seemed that James had beaten him to it with his dramatics. 

“That’s not what I mean,” James groans. “It’s how she acted. I don’t care if she keeps that to herself, but she didn’t have to be so mean to me. It’s like she delights in making me feel stupid.”

Peter laughed from the chair across the way from Sirius’s. “It’s not always hard to do.”

James scowled at the boy, but before he could say something back, Sirius sighed loudly. 

“James. Just back off of the girl.”

James turned to Sirius. “What do you mean?”

“If you ignore her, she’ll ignore you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she probably finds you just as irritating as you find her,” Remus says pointedly. 

“You guys are supposed to be on my side,” James says.

His friends all exchange a look, then stare back at him. 

Sirius leans forward on his chair to come to eye-level with James. 

“James. You are like a brother to me. I love you dearly. But leave the poor girl alone before she hits you.”

James buried his face in the couch cushion and groaned loudly in protest. Maybe they were right, but he didn’t have to like it. He knew he was being dramatic and probably a bit annoying, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t met someone who got under his skin so easily in a long time, and he didn’t like it. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, looking at his friends. He didn’t like to upset them, and he was afraid if he kept this up, that he might do just that. 

“You guys want to go get dinner on me?” he offered. 

They smiled, Sirius in particular shaking his head at his friend in amusement. James felt a little better then as he scrambled off the couch. 

James’s first encounter with the girl of his dreams, who he begrudgingly accepted no longer could be, happened a few days later. He walked into a café just off of campus to get a little fuel for his first essay of the semester when he saw a familiar head of red hair. His first instinct, of course, was to rush her with a smile and that classic Potter-charm of his… but then he deflated. 

There she was: the wretched girl who had stolen his dear Lily from him. He looked sour for a moment, then sighed, shrugging it off internally. He supposed that he couldn’t really be mad since he wasn’t also a girl, so Lily wouldn’t like him no matter what. 

But if he was, he was determined he’d be very upset about the whole ordeal. 

He sat down at a table across the small coffee shop, inadvertently staring at Lily and her girlfriend. He had to admit: the girl she was dating was very pretty. And they did seem happy together. But it was still a little bit annoying. He hardly paid attention to someone approaching with his drink until he heard an unfortunately-familiar voice. 

“I would tell you that a picture would last longer, but I don’t think I can condone borderline-stalking my roommate,” the girl said, setting his latte down in front of him. 

He looked up at her in a bit of surprise. She just seemed to pop up everywhere. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

She looked down at her apron, then back at him with a puzzled expression. 

“I— I work here?” she stated, shaking her head a bit. “Thought you may have gathered that from me bringing you your drink and wearing an apron.” 

He deadpanned, unamused. “I just didn’t expect to see you here is all. It’s like you’re everywhere.”

“It’s been like a week and half and we’ve seen each other twice,” she said, huffing a breath at his dramatics. “Anyway. Is there anything else you need, besides maybe a magazine or a blindfold?”

“Why would I need those?” he asked, immediately annoyed. 

She pointedly looked at Lily and her girlfriend, then back at James. He made a face of realization, then chuckled a little despite his better judgment. 

“Oh. No. I’ll stop staring, I’m just…”

She paused waiting for him to finish, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. She nodded slowly after a beat.

“Well… it’s been a pleasure as always.”

James nodded, but then he leaned forward to grab her wrist. “Wait.”

She turned around, giving him a look that told him to let go immediately. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, dropping her wrist. “Just wanted to ask if you got that western civilization assignment done for tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Tuesday.”

He raised a brow. “Yeah. It’s a Tuesday-Thursday class.”

She paused, looking a little lost. “What?”

“It’s on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. The assignment is supposed to be done for tomorrow’s class.”

“You’re joking.”

James shook his head. “No. Why would I be?”

“Shit,” she sighed heavily, throwing her head back. “How hard is it to do?”

“Not hard, but it took some time.”

She groaned. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. Just forgetful, obviously,” James laughed. 

She did not look amused. “Right. Well… Fuck. Thanks for the heads up, then.”

James looked quite pleased with himself. He actually got a ‘thank you’ out of her. He nodded quickly. 

“What would you do without me?” he smirked.

She glanced at him, looking somehow even more unimpressed. James didn’t like that look. 

“I’d have missed one class. Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

James watched her walk off, feeling annoyed once again. It’s like she couldn’t help but ruin his mood every time they talked. He sipped his latte, and suddenly felt more irritated: this might have been one of the best latte’s he’d ever had, and she just had to work there. Great. 

He kept his eyes on the girl as she walked back behind the counter, getting started on whatever task came next for her. She seemed to be making some kind of drink. He watched her as she flitted around back there easily, taking note of the way she’d occasionally scrunch her nose in a weak attempt to adjust her glasses as her hands were full. He took in every detail of her outfit that he could see from the other side of the counter: a simple black t-shirt and jeans that looked annoyingly good on her. Like it wasn’t enough to be irritating all the time, she had to be pretty, too. How was he supposed to just ignore her completely? He scoffed to himself at Sirius’s stupid advice as he sipped at his drink again.

That same thought snuck into his head as she walked into class the next day, dropping into that same seat right next to him. He took note of her slightly messy hair, and the crewneck sweatshirt that hung on her a little loosely. He looked at her nails as she pulled out her laptop, smiling a little at the baby blue that was painted on them. He liked blue quite a lot. He was in the middle of looking at the minimal makeup on her face, especially the gloss on her lips, when she just had to interrupt him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“None of your business,” he replied quite defensively.

“You’re staring at me. It feels like my business, Potter.”

He rolled his eyes. Why did she always have to be so difficult? It’s like she had fun making him feel like an idiot.

“I wasn’t staring. I was observing.”

She sighed, softly, shaking her head as she went back about her business, logging into her laptop. He tried really hard to remember what Sirius had told him and just ignore her as well as he could, but it wasn’t exactly his fault that she had a photo of herself and some guy on her computer.

“I thought you were gay?” he said curiously.

She turned her head to him slowly, and if he thought she looked at him like he was stupid before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now.

“What?” 

“I thought you said you were gay,” he clarified, though it made nothing clearer for her. He pointed at her laptop background, “but, there’s a boy with you on your computer.”

“I never said I was gay. I said it wasn’t your business if I was or not.”

“But you must not be if you have a boyfriend.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “That’s my brother, nosey. And I’m not gay.”

“Thought you said that wasn’t my business?”

“I’m going to slap you.”

“That’s what Sirius said,” James replied, though it was mostly to himself.

She snorted once. “Your friends are telling you you’re gonna get hit by someone?”

“By you,” he corrected.

Now, this piqued her interest. She looked at him curiously.

“Your friends tell you that I am going to slap you? Why?”

“I told them we don’t really get along. Sirius thinks I should just ignore you.”

“You’re doing a shit job of it,” she laughed a little.

He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit back at her. She had a nice laugh. He thought to himself that maybe he’d like to hear it more. It would certainly be better than the grating sound of her always being annoyed with him.

“Can’t help it if I’m curious.”

“You can help if you’re peering over my shoulder at my personal laptop.”

“I’d hardly call it peering. Plus you have a large screen, it’s easy to see.”

She cracked another small smile against her better judgment, and decided on ignoring him the rest of the class. It didn’t work. At all.

“So…” James started up when the professor decided on padding the rest of the class time with an ‘opportunity’ to get a headstart on the next assignment. “Did you end up finishing that assignment that was due today.”

“Clearly.”

James furrowed his brow. “Huh? How is that clear?”

“I’m a mess. I look like I just rolled out of bed, because I practically did in order to finish the assignment today before the rest of my classes. I haven’t even been in my apartment since like eight this morning.”

James still looked on in a bit of confusion, glancing over at her again, taking in her appearance. Sure, she wasn’t extremely put together, but she still looked pretty. James, ever the one to speak exactly what’s on his mind, decided on telling her that.

“I think you look really pretty today.”

She swallowed once, looking at him in a moment of mild shock. She usually wasn’t one to clam up around anyone, but she certainly was now, and James took notice.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“No. No, it isn’t that. I just…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Nevermind. Just… work on your assignment. It’s what we’re meant to be doing anyways.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” James nodded, feeling a little bad now that he’d apparently made her uncomfortable.

Though, as much as it was a sense of discomfort that she felt at his compliment, there was also much more to it. Not that she would ever tell him that. No, it was much worse than the normal annoyance she felt for the boy when he looked her up and down and gave her that sweet smile. It was terrible and evil and made her face a bit warm. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, his cheek smushed in his hand nearly making her smile being all the more evidence: she was developing a crush on James Potter.

James was in the process of waking up on a cold Saturday morning in early October. Usually he’d be able to pull himself out of bed somewhat easily, only really needing a good shower to get his blood pumping for the day ahead. The ‘process’ part came into play as a rare, true hangover made him feel both dizzy and like a rock stuck in bed. 

He wasn’t a stranger to a late night of drinking with his friends, or a party here and there while he was at school. Even in his highschool days, he would sometimes sneak out from under his parents’ watchful eyes with Sirius to go live it up for a night. But it rarely resulted in an actual hangover. Sometimes a headache, occasionally he’d throw up before bed, but this? This was hell on earth. He was convinced. It certainly didn’t help that he hardly remembered past drink number seven the night prior. He decided on not letting the frat boys fill his cup anymore.

After an hour of laying in bed, he finally decided that it might be time to at least try to join the world of the living. He rolled off of his mattress, shuffling into the bathroom to take a cool shower. He effectively did as much, only having to bend over the toilet bowl to empty his stomach twice! He was quite proud of himself for that, considering he felt nauseous the entirety of the shower. He stumbled back into his room, haphazardly drying off his body and hair before slipping into a sweater, jeans, and a warm coat. He slipped on his boots, grabbed his keys, and walked out the front door. He thought that maybe his favorite cafe would have something to lift his spirits and fill his now-empty stomach. He also thought that maybe a certain girl might be working. That would definitely lift his spirits.

He walked into the cafe around 11am, finding it surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon. He had started making a habit of visiting the place probably more often than he needed to. He knew the usual flow at this point.

He frowned when his favorite table was taken, and ended up dropping into a seat near the back by a window after he had ordered. He sat his order number marker on the table, and waited for a familiar face to show. He started to smile when he saw his coffee and a chocolate pastry being set in front of him, but it dropped as he looked up to see a less familiar man. He thanked him anyway, despite the fact that he was quite disappointed. He picked at his pastry, and sipped his drink, letting the carbs and caffeine make him feel a bit like a human being again after such a rough night. He decided to stick around for a while after he finished both, just sitting and thinking. He always liked being alone with his thoughts, but they seemed to flow a little better with the hum of something in the background. A cafe full of people did the trick for the day. After an hour or so of staring out the window, he decided he could use another cup of coffee.

He went to wait to order behind a small line of people, fiddling on his phone until he was finally called up to order next. A smile grew on his face when he saw who was taking orders now.

“Hi!” he said to her cheerily.

“Oh. James. Hi,” she said, a little surprised to see him. “What can I get you?”

“You weren’t here earlier. I got here a little past 11, and some guy brought me my drink.”

“Yeah. I just got in at 12. So… what do you want to drink?”

James ignored her question with another smile. “How long are you working today? Don’t you normally come in earlier?”

“Five hour shift today,” she said with a small sigh. “I just didn’t start early this time.”

“Oh. Well, it’s good you’re here now. I’d have hated to admit that I might have missed you when I saw you in class on Tuesday.”

She fought a smile at that, determined to remain irritated at him.

“Are you going to order? You’re kind of holding up the line.”

“Right!” he exclaimed suddenly, looking up at the menu as if he didn’t get the same thing every time.

“Do you just want your usual?”

James stilled at that. She knew his normal order? He smiled a bit to himself, trying not to seem too delighted at that fact. But he shook his head quickly, even though that’s exactly what he planned on getting.

“What’s your favorite drink?”

“I like the lavender oatmilk latte.”

“Lavender? In coffee?” He made a sour face.

“James,” she said, somewhat shortly as he dawdled. 

“I’ll have one of those, then.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. But if it’s gross, I’m blaming you.”

She smirked a little as she shook her head, typing in the order.

“Alright. It’s in,” she said, nodding to the side for him to get out of the way. 

“But I didn’t pay.”

“It’s on me,” she replied. But, she continued before he could think it was too sweet, “It’ll get you out of the way faster.” 

He nodded, giving her a thanks with a shy smile. He went back to his seat, expecting that same wretched boy to come back out instead of her with his drink. Though it certainly took a long time for him to do so. Just as James was looking over his shoulder to see what was taking so long, he saw that same familiar face coming towards him with a mug of coffee. He smiled up at her as she set down the mug.

“I thought you were on the register.”

“I was.”

“But you just had to come see me, right?”

She scoffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Enough out of you. I came to ask about the test on Tuesday.”

“Oh?” he asked, looking down into the coffee she brought. It didn’t look gross, at the very least, but he still wasn’t sure about lavender in his coffee.

“I can’t find my notes from two weeks ago anywhere. Do you think I could borrow yours by any chance?”

“You want to borrow my notes?”

“You can be an idiot sometimes, but you’re not stupid. Unfortunately, you are actually really smart under that…” she gestures vaguely at him. “You know. Your whole vibe.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pouting a little.

“It’s a compliment.”

“Still mean. I thought you Americans were supposed to be nice.”

“I think you’re thinking of Canada, but I mean it in a nice way.”

He huffed a small sigh, tilting his head as he looked up at her. She tried not to look at him for too long, sure she’d start grinning for real this time. Why did he have to be so handsome? And so annoying. And ridiculously charming. She merely quirked a brow at his silent tantrum, waiting for him to speak again.

“I guess. You can have my notes, but you have to come get them from me at my apartment.”

“You can’t just email them to me?”

He smiled. “Nope. I take ‘em on paper. You can come get them.”

“It would be easier to take a photo of them.”

“I want my roommates to have to meet the girl who hates me so much anyways. They’ve been dying to properly see you without me having to point you out across campus.”

“You talk about me a lot?” she asks with a little smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Enough,” he smiles at her brightly. “Come on. Just humor me.”

“I don’t have your address,” she argued weakly.

He laughed a bit at that. God, she was adorable when she was being difficult.

“Give me your phone, then.”

“What for?”

“I’m going to put my address in. And my phone number so I don’t always have to try to catch you here or in class when I want to talk to you.”

“Who says I want to talk to you?”

“I think you secretly like me.”

“I think you’re annoying.”

“I think you secretly like me, even though I’m annoying. You’re trying to tell me I’m not a delight to be around?”

She sighed softly, clinging hard onto that small sliver of irritation, even if it didn’t do much good against the boy. She pulled out her phone, unlocking it and handing it over to him. She watched as he typed in all his information, and even took a cheesy little selfie for his contact photo. 

“No, no, no…” she said, trying to take her phone back when he started messaging himself.

He put out his arm with a giddy grin, blocking her from getting the phone back as he continued on his path with the other hand.

“How else was I meant to get your number?” he giggled, hitting send and handing the device back to her. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be the only one with the option to contact me. If you were the only one of us who could text, we’d never get the ball rolling on a proper friendship.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be your friend,” she snorted once, pocketing her phone again. “You’re a nuisance.”

“I’ll see you tonight then, right?” He ignored her poor insult. “To get the notes, I mean.”

She fell quiet for a moment before begrudgingly nodding. “Yeah. I’ll see you then. When will you be home?”

“For you? All day.”

She rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t help but fight a warmth in her cheeks as she turned to get back to work.

As it turned out, much like she was suspecting, letting James put his number in her phone, and consequently exchanging numbers, was a horrific idea. It seemed that every time she went to check her phone, even if it was the middle of the night, he had something to say. Whether it be an actual message or just a strange meme he found online, he was constantly sending her texts. She was convinced he was testing out a kind of exposure therapy. That maybe, in his head, if he kept bugging her all hours of the day she would learn not to act so annoyed by him. To his merit, he was mostly right. But it helped that she was harboring a secret crush on him to begin with.

James, on the other hand, was getting non-stop reprimands from his friends. Every time he pulled his phone out and started typing, they’d groan in annoyance, knowing exactly who he was trying to talk to.

“Mate, you’ve got to lay off the poor girl,” Remus grumbled softly, his head dropping onto the back of the couch when he clocked James texting her in the middle of a movie night with the boys. 

“I just thought she might think this movie is good. I’m recommending it,” James shrugged a little, still typing away.

“She probably doesn’t care,” Peter said casually.

“Shut up, Pete,” James huffed, setting his phone down. Though he left it up to make sure he’d see exactly when she texted back. “It’s funny. She likes funny stuff.”

“You’ve got it bad, Prongs,” Sirius shook his head as he came back into the living room from his brief excursion to the bathroom. Remus pulled him right back into his lap as he came out, hugging him tightly.

James looked at them, making a disgusted face and groaning. 

“You guys aren’t allowed to talk about me when you’re always clinging onto each other like that.”

“You’re just jealous,” Sirius smirked.

“Maybe I am! I have to watch you two cuddling all the time, all in love. It’s sickening,” James crossed his arms as he looked back at the television. “I shouldn’t have to watch that and hear about how I shouldn’t text a girl I fancy.”

Remus and Sirius shared a look. Remus then set his sights on James with a raised brow.

“So you fancy her now, do you?”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying,” Remus chuckled. “When we started the school year you said she was evil. Now you fancy her.”

“She is evil. She doesn’t like me back,” James sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat. “I don’t get it. Girls loved me in high school. Then all of a sudden we’re at uni, and the first girl I like turns out to be a lesbian and the second one thinks I’m annoying.”

“Poor boy,” Sirius cooed at his dear friend jokingly. “You’ll find one soon. Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.”

“But I want her to be! It isn’t fair. She probably doesn’t like English boys at all. I bet that’s what it is.”

“What?” Remus asked incredulously.

“She’s from the States. I bet she only likes, like… farmers or surfers or something stupid.”

That earned a laugh from his friends, brushing off his dramatics as usual. James merely pouted to himself as he watched the movie until his phone buzzed next to him. He grabbed it like his life depended on it when he saw who the notification was from, smiling like a giddy child as he read the message.

“alright. thanks for the rec, I’ll check it out :)”

He giggled a little to himself. “She sent me a smiley face! You guys think that actually made her smile? I bet it did.”

His friends merely sighed, ignoring him again since he wouldn’t have listened to their response anyways as he typed away.

“Maybe we could watch it together some time! I think my friends would really like you. They didn’t get to know you well enough last time they saw you since it was only a couple of minutes. You should come over!! :)”

He sent the message, but as soon as the excitement calmed down a smidge, he sent another message.

“If you want to, of course. I don’t want to pressure you. But I do want to hang out with you. I think you’ll like me if you decided to stop hating me lol”

“Sorry, that sounded weird”

“I just mean that we could be good friends, I think. You’re funny and cool, and I’m also funny and cool. It’s like we’re made for each other haha!”

“I don’t mean it like that. You know what I mean, yeah?”

“Fuck, mate, you writing a novel over there?” Sirius laughed with wide eyes, looking at the phone in James’s hands.

“I keep fucking up and sending weird stuff,” he groaned. “Trying to do damage control.”

“Not much damage control to do when she already talks to you in person,” Sirius retorts with a smirk.

“Shove off, Pads.”

His phone buzzed again.

“right lol. maybe sometime? do you plan on talking through the whole thing though? you tend to be a motormouth, you know lmao”

He let out a breath of relief, smiling to himself again when he saw that he didn’t screw things too badly.

“I’ll be quiet during all the important parts at least. Promise!”

He waited for a moment, staring at the screen as a little text bubble popped up almost immediately.

“maybe then, yeah. i’ll let you know next time i’m getting too happy with my peace and quiet. or the next time lils and her girlfriend are making out in front of me again”

He laughed softly, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others as he texted the girl. They were all in happy relationships, they certainly were not allowed to judge him for being excited to be speaking to somebody cute.

“Might not be much better with Sirius and Remus here, but misery loves company, right?”

“Those are two of my mates you met when you picked up those notes a while back, btw. In case you forgot their names.”

“They’re dating now.”

He waited patiently, not even paying an ounce of attention to the movie still playing. Besides, if he was going to watch it with her again some time soon, who cares if he missed a bit of it?

“good for them, they’re probably super cute together. but yeah, i’ll text you next time then”

James smiled brightly.

“Great!!! I’m looking forward to it! We can order dinner and everything.”

“But not like a date.”

“Unless you wanted it to be lol. Just kidding. We don’t have to do that.”

“But I’ll still buy dinner so you don’t go hungry.”

He waited again as the speech bottle popped up, and frowned a little when it went away. Then, there was a little heart on the first message he sent about ordering in, which, to him, felt like everything. 

She was surprised with herself when she was all nerves before going to see James and his friends for that promised movie night. Though, she quickly realized that was incredibly silly.

As she got to know James’s friends, she kind of started understanding why he talked so highly of them. She adored them, and thought it was pretty funny that they always seemed a little bit lovingly exasperated with his antics. She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how she’d start feeling about him, or if that bothersome crush would never fade into a casual friendship.

The answer seemed to come after Sirius and Remus ran off together after dinner, and Peter left to go hang out with his girlfriend. She didn't expect to find herself opening up to the Potter boy so easily about her past, nor for him to become so serious and thoughtful when talking about his own. 

She really didn’t expect for herself to say yes to hanging out with him again. And again. And again.

It’s like he somehow found his way under her skin. She knew he was capable of such a thing from how he was easily able to bug her from their first meeting. It was exasperation at first sight. But the way he charmed his way into her heart was an entirely new kind of annoying. He was all boyish smiles, silly stories, and dramatism… and it was fucking endearing.

But their tipping point came in March. 

Much to her chagrin, they had become close friends. They spent a lot of time together, and not just in the classroom or at work. She’d become friends with his friends, and James had become friends with Lily and Marlene after he finally accepted that Lily really wouldn’t ever like him. Though, realistically, he was pretty much over that the second he realized he had feelings for someone else. That slightly-grumpy, highly caffeinated, lovely, hilarious, complaining, sweet, smart, ridiculously difficult angel of a girl. 

The girl that made him embarrass himself in front of a party full of people.

He stood with Peter and his girlfriend at a table, chatting as they started sipping on freshly made drinks. James was, admittedly, probably a few too many in. But he couldn’t always exercise impeccable self-control, he decided. So, he stood there, staring at the girl from across the room as she danced with Lily’s girlfriend Marlene with a smile on his face.

“You look ridiculous staring at her like that, mate,” Peter said to James, nudging him lightly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” James snorted, pulling his eyes away from her to smirk at his friend. “Besides, I can stare at my girl all I want.”

“Only she isn’t your girl, James,” Peter reminded him.

“I’d like her to be,” James sighed dreamily, turning his head to look at her again. But this time, a frown overtook his face. 

She was now being tapped on the shoulder by some tall, terribly handsome looking guy. James’s stomach lurched a little at the sight. What did this guy think he was doing? 

He looked on for a moment as the two talked, growing more and more frustrated. He knew they weren’t together, but that was still his girl. He knew he had to take immediate action. This couldn’t just slide without consequence. James looked around the room almost frantically, trying to figure it out. How could he get all her attention on him instead of that stupid dude hanging off her shoulder?

Aha!

He pushed his cup into Peter’s hand, ignoring his friend questioning what on earth he was doing. He walked, though it was more of a drunken stumble, to the nearest table, clambering up on top of it. He cleared his throat, looking around as more and more people started looking up at him in confusion. Perfect! An audience.

He called her name over the crowd, looking at her intently until she turned to him with wide eyes, shrugging off the other guy that was still trying to get an arm around her. He smiled brightly, though she looked less than amused, shaking her head a little at him.

“I want everyone in this room, and… and everyone forever, everywhere, to know something. I am so, stupidly, madly…” he stopped as he stumbled a little, his foot slipping off of the table’s edge in front of him. “Shit!”

He crashed to the floor, scraping his hand on something on the table as he tried to stop himself from landing too hard on the ground. He winced, both from the tumble to the ground and the pain in his hand. What the hell was so sharp on that table?

“Ow,” he muttered, not even trying to get up yet, rubbing his head a little as he felt quite dizzy.

“James!”

He squinted up with a small, pained smile as her saccharine voice reached his ears as she came rushing over. He groaned a little when she dropped on her knees in front of him, trying to look at his hand. It was bleeding a little bit.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” she mumbled, but he still noticed the worry in her eyes. It made him feel good.

“I’m drunk.”

“Clearly,” she sighed softly, then stood, reaching for his opposite hand. “Come on. Let’s go get you home.”

“I didn’t finish what I wanted–”

“You need to get to bed. You’re a mess, Jamie.”

He smiled a little more at that little nickname. He loved it when she called him that. He agreed instantly to her at that point. How could he say no?

“Okay. Lead the way, mama.”

“...Don’t call me that.”

“Mm,” he shrugged, letting her help him stand up. He hung off of her, practically using her as a human crutch. “You’re so sweet to me.”

She stayed quiet, trying to bring him out of the room of people either staring or laughing at him. It was a miracle she got him home, but she did after a lengthy battle against the sidewalks and stairs. She sat him on his bed, making him stay put as she went to get disinfectant and a bandage for his hand.

He blinked slowly, looking after her with a dopey smile as she left and returned. She sat in front of him on the bed, taking his hand in hers. He barely whined at all when she cleaned off his hand, muttering something about him being a ‘clumsy, ridiculous cunt’. He thought it was cute how she could take care of him so well while still insulting him for being an absolute idiot. He reasoned that at least he would be her idiot. 

“Sorry, love,” he mumbled when she finished up with his hand. “But you’re awfully good at this stuff. Maybe I got hurt on purpose just so you’d take care of me.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, practically force-feeding him some water. 

He swallowed. “No, I didn’t. But I could have. I like it like this.”

“You like having your hand all fucked up, and a room full of people laughing at you?”

“I like you sitting with me like this. Giving me alllll your attention,” he giggled. “Besides, you’re really pretty when you’re concentrating. I don’t mind getting hurt if it means you’ll do that silly little thing where your tongue sticks out a bit when you’re focusing.”

“You need to go to sleep,” she said softly, fighting a smile.

“But I didn’t finish what I was gonna say on the table.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Too bad.”

He whined. “Please? That douchebag who was all over you is gonna go right back to it if you go back to the party.”

“I’m not going back to the party. And what do you even mean? What guy?”

“The one who was on you when I got up on the table,” he pouted.

She quirked a brow. “I don’t even know that guy.”

“That’s worse! He’s gonna steal you away!” James exclaimed. “That isn’t fair. I had you first.”

She swallowed once, looking at him curiously. “What?”

“I don’t like boys looking at you or… or touching you or talking to you or anything. You were mine first. They need to back off,” he said, getting increasingly irritated. “I don’t care if you think I’m annoying or you don’t like me. Doesn’t mean some other boy gets to just… take you.”

“Slow down,” she said, grabbing his arm. “First of all, I do like you, if not evidenced by us becoming friends the past several months. Second… some dude I don’t even know isn’t gonna come along and ‘take me’. That doesn’t even make sense. Besides��”

“It does make sense! You’re so beautiful, and funny, and caring, and really mean but in a way that is super hot…”

“I don’t want to date some random frat boy, James.”

“But they want to date you!”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“I do! I love you! They shouldn’t get to butter you up and take you away from me, it isn’t fair,” he groaned, tossing himself back onto the pillows.

As a result, he didn’t see her mouth drop open at the accidental confession, nor the way her eyes widened as she looked at him. 

“You love me?”

“What?”

“You just said you love me.”

James opens his eyes, though he doesn’t look at her. “...no I didn’t.”

“You’re a shit liar, Jamie. I know what I heard.”

He winced a little. “Well… maybe I do. That’s what I was gonna say on the table, anyway.”

“So you’re brave enough to say it in front of a crowd, but you get scared to admit to it one-on-one?” She snorted a laugh.

“It’s easier to not get rejected right away when we’re around other people. Then at least I could figure out your reaction when you were still far away,” he said meekly, finally looking at her.

“You think I’d reject you?”

“Maybe? You kind of hated me when we first met.”

“And now? Who do I spend every waking moment with, dummy?”

“...me?”

She merely raised her brows, opening her hands in an ‘obviously, dumbass’ kind of gesture. He smiled at her.

“So…?” he asked vaguely.

“So… you love me, huh?”

He merely nodded, looking a little sheepish and still pretty drunk. She was thanking her lucky stars that she was still extremely tipsy as well, or else she probably would’ve passed out from nerves.

“What if I said… like, me too?”

His eyes widened. “You too?”

“Yeah.”

“You love me too? Like, also?”

“Yes, like, also,” she laughed. “I’ve honestly had a crush on you since the second day of classes this year.”

“Really?” He smiled brightly. “Ugh, you’re horrible!”

“What?” she scoffed a laugh.

“You are evil! I’ve been saying it since day one. This whole time I thought I was an idiot for liking you so much, and you had a crush on me?”

“To be fair, I really didn’t want to. You were pretty insufferable,” she chuckled, brushing some of his messy hair out of his face.

“Then what changed for me?”

“Nothing. I just started thinking all of your irritating traits were becoming irritatingly adorable.”

“You think I’m adorable?” He giggled to himself.

“Don’t push your luck, Potter.”

“Don’t call me that. I like it better when you call me Jamie.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Makes me all soft and mushy inside.”

“You’re such a sap,” she sighed softly, leaning down over him to kiss his cheek.

He felt his cheeks heat up quickly at the sweet gesture, and even more when she didn’t pull her face away from his. He looked up at her with a soft smile. How could he not have fallen head over heels?

He leaned up slightly, glancing down at her lips before closing his eyes to let her make the first official move. He hoped she’d make that move. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and sparks all over his body when he felt her lips meet his for the first time. He smiled into the kiss, unable to stop himself from it.

He kissed her back, though it was admittedly sloppy with the both of them still fairly inebriated, James being even more so. But to him at the very least, it was perfect.

Against his preference, she pulled away. He pouted, as he usually did when he didn’t get as much attention from her as he’d like.

“You have to promise me something,” she said quietly.

His ears perked up. “Anything.”

“We won’t become annoying like Lily and Marls or Sirius and Remus.”

He grinned. “Does that mean you want to date me?”

“God, you’re dense,” she muttered against his lips, kissing him again with no intention of ever stopping.

#london boy mention ‼️ #james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter au #james potter college au #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction #marauders au #luna still hates jk

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys getting jealous pt.2

☆ characters: law, shanks, kidd

☆ up next: making one piece boys considering fatherhood

☆ summary: what happens when you pair pirates, a pretty lady, and another man finding her attractive? jealousy! , suggestive content

☆ a/n: law fever is rotting my brain.. suggest characters for part three!

☆ part 1 here!

law

1.26k words

“Hopefully we can come up with something good,” Law explained, “Or this whole plan is going to fall apart pretty quickly.”

You gently pat his back as you walked with him, “You will, Captain.”

He smiled, appreciative of the gesture. 

You both stopped in front of an intricate hand-carved wooden door with a gorgeous brass handle. 

You both lightly laughed at the breathtaking beauty of the door.

The Straw Hats’ shipwright didn’t cut corners. 

“Nicest library entrance you’ve ever seen in your life or what?” you joked, opening the door. 

He laughed and you felt a strong hand on your back guiding you into the library on the Thousand Sunny. 

Sanji was in the library reading and stood up as soon as you walked in.

“Y/n!” 

You waved, walking over towards him.

Law begrudgingly followed. 

He didn’t dislike any of the straw hats, but he also didn’t have a fondness for the flirty cook who couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you. 

“I was just about to start dinner,” he whispered, “Care for a drink?”

Law rolled his eyes. Was the whispering necessary when he was standing less than five feet away?

“Oh! I’d love to!”

Law sighed, “I’m gonna head to the meeting room, Y/n.”

“Okay,” you replied, “I’ll see you later then?”

He nodded, giving you a soft smile before turning to Sanji and excusing himself. 

The cook didn’t miss how his fists clenched at his sides on his way out.

“Ready for a drink?” Sanji asked you.

“Ready!”

He responded with some french expression and led you towards the kitchen with him. 

Once there you offered to help Sanji with cooking dinner and stationed yourself in front of the window. 

He took a few things out of the oven and you watched as he rubbed a lime wedge around the rim of a shot glass. 

What the hell is she doing?

Law watched you through the kitchen window, washing vegetables, holding a pretty drink, 

taking sips as you laughed at whatever unfunny thing the straw hat cook what saying.

He had brought you on board with him because he knew you liked their company but this wasn’t supposed to be some play date.  

It was a strategy meeting.

For him, at least. 

He lost track of what Luffy and Robin were saying as he watched the two of you through the window. 

Sanji placed an apron over you, gently tying the strings to fit you. Clearly looking down at your breasts. 

He looked up, making eye contact with Law, catching onto the glare the surgeon was giving him.

Law watched a subtle smile spread across the cook’s face.

Pervert.

He heard Luffy mention something or other, no doubt a useless strategy he would refute if he were thinking straight, but all he could imagine was if he were standing in Sanji’s place. 

He’d be making something different that’s for sure. 

Law knew you hated carrots, but he also knew you’d never complain about anything and felt his fists clench as he watched you politely wash the vegetables. 

He also knew you hated alcohol but watched you sip your drink anyway. 

You were too nice for your own good, and Law felt like he had the responsibility of making sure you weren’t taken advantage of. 

You washed the last of the vegetables and placed them in a bowl.

“Let me help with more,” you insisted, “I’m no chef but I could cut these.”

“Of course! As long as you don’t get hurt.”

You giggled, “Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse,” you jokingly gestured over toward the room Law was in. 

You started chopping away at some carrots, stopping when you realized yours were a lot less even than Sanji’s.

“Want some tips?” 

You nodded, slightly embarrassed. 

Sanji stood behind you.

You felt his chest against your back and he softly placed his hands on top of yours, showing you the correct motions to use when chopping.   

You stood still, letting Sanji’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on top of yours, continuing your previous conversation.

Law looked up again and saw red. 

He knew the cook wasn’t stupid, and that you were probably appreciative of the attention he was giving you.

He broke the pencil in his hand and tensed his jaw.

He looked ready to explode and Luffy and Robin turned around to look at what had pissed him off. 

“Mugiwara-ya,” he started, his stomach twisting, “Tell your pervert of a cook to get his hands off my sniper.” 

Law was seething.

Luffy turned to look into the kitchen and laughed, “Don’t worry, Traffy! Sanji is always nice to women.”

Robin who had also turned to look and stood up, a sly smile spreading across her face as excused herself, making her way towards you and Sanji. 

Law’s nerves worsened, Shit, shit, shit. 

He knew Robin had most likely caught onto what his anger was about.

He didn’t need anyone else to know how he felt about you. 

It was difficult enough for him, and he’d rather cut off his hands than let you find out. 

He felt trapped.

Luffy was yapping nonstop, none of which he was registering. 

He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and felt sweat forming on his forehead.

This was going to ruin everything. He was awkward and non-sociable. He didn’t make you fancy drinks and wasn’t naturally romantic, and most importantly he was about one hundred percent certain you didn’t feel the same way. 

He felt nauseous as he watched Robin open the kitchen door and approach the two of you. 

He watched you and Sanji look up at him. 

His stomach dropped. 

You turned towards Robin, a concerned expression taking over your face, starting to put away what you were doing.

You approached the door, but Sanji stopped you.

He untied the apron he had placed on you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, whispering something to you. 

That was it. 

Law stood up and slammed the door open, marching straight toward the kitchen.

Luffy followed in hot pursuit, confused. 

The kitchen door swung open and Law almost ran into you. 

“Blackleg,” Law started, “What exactly do you think you’re doing with her?”

“Cooking,” Sanji responded, playing innocent. 

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you started, a very shameful appearance on your face, “Robin told me.”

Law let out a short exhale, still glaring at Sanji.

Robin… what?

Law’s heart dropped and he looked at you, eyes slightly widened. 

“She told me that I should’ve been helping you strategize,” you explained, “I completely forgot that I had the blueprints and your notebook with me.”

Law exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, flooding with relief, “Right- the, uh, the blueprints. Could you bring them?”

You nodded, turning towards Sanji, “Thanks for the drink! I appreciate you making it non-alcoholic for me!”

Law felt like his head might explode. 

Of course, he had made you a non-alcoholic drink. 

“Anytime, mon Coeur,” Sanji grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. 

“Room.”

You found yourself next to Law walking back towards the room he’d been in. 

“Don’t get distracted next time,” he scolded you.

You nodded, not saying anything. 

You felt Law take your hand in his, brushing off where you’d been kissed, before holding it. 

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red. 

“Sanji, you ought to be more careful,” Robin said, making sure Law was still within earshot, “I never would've taken him as the jealous type!”

shanks

1.2k words

Shanks never got jealous. 

And if he was anything, he was confident. It was no secret that he had a woman waiting for him on every island and that he could have anyone he wanted. 

Except you. 

The newest addition to the crew and the most beautiful. 

He’d traveled the world, all four seas, and never once come across anything as gorgeous as you. 

Not a single thing compared to any part of you. 

Unfortunately, Beckman seemed to agree. 

He watched as the two of you sat and talked, sharing a bottle of wine, no less. 

Any progress he seemed to make with you, or any time you seemed to be reciprocating his affections, he’d find you and Benn together the next day. 

“I’m kind of hoping being at sea all the time will eventually get less nauseating,” you said. 

Benn laughed, “It will! The first time I set sail I was seasick for three weeks. Thought I’d never accommodate and was just about getting ready to hang up any hopes of being a pirate.”

“What changed?”

“Shanks helped, actually. Told me to try sucking on mints. Worked wonders.”

“Mints?”

“Yeah,” he explained, “Apparently they have a numbing effect which ends up canceling out nausea. He has them on hand all the time.” 

You took a sip of your wine, “Maybe I should ask him for some.”

“Just be careful with him,” Benn teased, “He can be a handful. Mind giving me a light?”

You leaned over towards him, holding your lighter to the cigarette between his lips. 

“Do you know where he is?” you said, standing up, downing the rest of the wine in your glass.

“Try his bedroom, he might still be sleeping. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being woken up by you though,” Benn said, a sly look spreading over his face. 

You’d have asked what he meant if nausea hadn’t already started to set back in. 

You knocked on his bedroom door lightly, trying to steady your breathing as you weren’t sure if you felt like fainting or throwing up.

“Um... Captain?” you called out, “I know it’s early but, uh, I was wondering if you had any mints?”

This was awkward. You should probably feel more comfortable talking to the man who invited you to be a part of his crew.

You waited by the door for a few minutes with no answer. 

You groaned and decided that you’d have a peek inside only to see if he was sleeping and if he was you’d.. well, you didn’t know.

It would probably be weird to go in and wake him. 

You took a deep breath in and slowly turned the handle, opening the door as little as possible to see if he was inside. 

“Whatcha lookin’ for, baby?”

A strong voice called out to you from the end of the hall.

You nearly passed out.

“Captain!! I was- I was just- Oh my God, I’m so sorry I know how this looks I was just looking for you because Beckman said that you might still be sleeping and I needed-”

Shanks held up a dismissive hand to cut you off. 

“Cute,” he said, looking at how your cheeks deepened in color, “But if you wanted some time in my bedroom with me you could always just ask.”

A flirty smile settled onto his face, and he wasn’t shy about holding eye contact. 

You averted your eyes to the floor and tried to explain again, “I need a mint. Benn said I could ask you for one since you carry them all the time.”

His smile faltered for a split second, “And what would you and Benn need a mint for?”

Your cheeks darkened even more and you felt embarrassment creeping up your neck and onto your face.

“Oh, n-no it’s nothing like that! I just-,” you paused not exactly wanting to admit to your captain that you got seasick very easily, an arguably bad trait for a pirate to have.

“Hm,” Shanks tossed you two mints with a wink, “Give him a high five for me.”

“It’s not like that!”

Your protests fell on deaf ears, as he was already on his way out. 

The rest of your day was calm. The sea seemed to have taken pity on you and the waves evened out after your first mint. 

You’d found a spot on the upper deck of the ship earlier in the week. A corner tucked behind the captain’s office, where the railing was wide enough to sit quite comfortably on and you got a nice view of the sunset. 

It was nice to have a serene little spot to yourself where you could enjoy the peace and quiet. You turned the corner, ready to relax, when you saw Shanks sat on your ledge.

“Came to find me sweetheart?”

“Sorry to intrude,” you started, “Didn’t know this was your spot.”

Shanks laughed, “It is directly behind my room you know.”

“Right, yeah.”

You awkwardly shuffled your feet.

“I get really seasick,” you said before you could think it through.

Shanks looked at you with amusement, though you could tell he didn’t really understand.

“That’s why I needed a mint. I got nauseous and felt faint and I asked Benn for help and he told me to ask you. Said you’d helped him with the same thing.”

An irritatingly sly smile spread across his face.

You bit your lip, not wanting to say anything, but clearly irritated at his enjoyment of the fact. 

“What the hell is that face supposed to mean?”

“Sweetheart, you just made my day,” he said. 

“Is that so?” You understood what was going on pretty clearly now.

He nodded, standing up and extending a hand toward you.

You hesitantly took it. 

He pulled you in towards him and placed a hand on your lower back, leaning you slightly backward and bringing his face to hover over yours. 

“How could I not be hurt that such a beautiful woman was showing no interest in me?”

“I assume that means me,” you teased.

“It does.”

“And what makes you think I’m interested now?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you have no protest to my current hand placement, you were very clearly interested in the prospect of joining me in the bedroom earlier-” 

A harsh slap to his arm cut the rest of that sentence off. 

He let out a loud, hearty laugh.

“You are very handsome, Captain,” you started.

“Please go on.”

“But I can’t say I’m terribly interested,” you said. 

“And why is that?”

“You know every man in this world has heard of your terrifying power. How strong and feared you are.”

His face was gleaming with pride. 

You laughed to yourself. He really thought he had you wrapped around his finger.

“But every woman? Every woman has heard of-”

“My muscles?”

“No.”

“Then surely, my devastatingly good looks?”

 “Also no.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“How quickly you leave the morning after.”

He stood still, completely silenced.

You leaned towards him, hovering your lips millimeters away from his.

“But I have to admit that I liked seeing you jealous.”

You gently pulled his hands from your waist, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

kidd

1.1k words

Generally speaking, dealing with men was a daily occurrence you could do without. 

You were getting better at turning them down, and in your years of experience learned that the best course of action was to bat your eyes and appeal to them, maybe even adopt an apologetic tone, and softly say to them,

“I’m so sorry! I’m just not looking for anything right now.”

Telling them you had a boyfriend only encouraged them to try harder, being rude invited violence and the use of the word ‘bitch’, and ignoring them often led to all of the above. 

Of course, if you decided to tell them who your boyfriend was they’d probably leave you alone but it was probable that you’d be accused of lying and you hated having to use his name to be shown some respect or decency. 

Ideally, your boyfriend would never know. 

The only thing he didn’t seem to be able to control was his temper, and if there was one thing you didn’t want to deal with it was how unbearably possessive he got when he was upset. 

And since the majority of the time it was innocent flirting, you just brushed it off. 

You woke up and stretched yourself out on the bed, pulling the covers off of you and Kidd.

“There’s a farmer’s market in town today! Wanna come? I really want peaches and we don’t grow any here.” 

He groaned and rolled over on his side, facing away from you. 

You grabbed his bicep and placed kisses up and along his neck, your movement and eagerness urging him to wake up. 

“Please! You never go out with me,” you said, the tone of your voice pulling at a few of his heartstrings. 

“I can’t today.”

“You never can.”

You sat up and moved toward the edge of the bed. 

The pirate stayed in bed, silently. 

“I have… stuff to do, princess,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his embrace, you knew this was the closest you’d get to an apology. 

“Alright,” you said, “Well I’m gonna go now before it gets too hot out.” 

He begrudgingly let go of you, watching as you disappeared into your closet. 

He was in a worse mood than usual throughout the entirety of the day and spent his time huffing and puffing around. 

He felt guilty that he hadn’t given you the attention he knew you deserved and when he checked the clock and saw it was half past four in the afternoon and you still weren’t back he had to stop himself from breaking everything in the room. 

He contained the oncoming rampage as best he could and made his way toward the village. He walked through crowds of people and his irritation was nearing its peak when he saw you.

You had a basket full of different fruits and vegetables and jarred things and a few different wine bottles. It looked heavy and you were clearly struggling to carry it. 

He had half a mind to take some of the weight off with a string or two, but decided against it, his irritation getting the best of him. 

You made your way to another stall, selling flowers and before you could place your basket on the floor, a young man offered to carry it for you. 

He was smiling from ear to ear, and much to the captain’s disgust looked extremely eager to help you. 

You smiled back and accepted his offer, handing him the basket, which he happily held for you. 

At least she doesn’t have to carry it, he thought, his cheeks turning red with anger. 

But he stayed standing where he was and decided to watch the scene before him play out.

You grabbed a few different flower bouquets and turned to the boy to ask for his opinion, it seemed you liked the dark red carnations. 

He nodded and you reached into your pockets to grab a few coins. 

You laughed when your hand came out empty and began placing the flowers back.

Before you could the boy interjected and offer the vendor a few berries.  

Kidd’s body temperature reached a peak and he saw red. 

He violently pushed people out of his way, walking towards you, causing a scene as he yelled, “Oi! If you need money, I have some!!!”

Fuck.

You recognized his voice and turned around as though you’d just been caught in the middle of a murder.

“Kidd! I thought you were busy today-”

“Don’t,” he said, turning towards the boy, his metallic hand making its way toward his throat, “I suggest you hand me the basket and fuck off.”

Your cheeks were red with embarrassment and you offered an apologetic look to the boy, who looked ready to cry. 

You placed the flowers in your basket- the vendor readily waved any charge - and with Kidd’s hand firmly set on your waist, made your way back to the ship. 

“You know he was just being nice, right? And it’s your fault I needed help carrying the basket since you were busy doing ‘stuff’.” 

The air quotes you placed around stuff pissed him off. 

He stayed silent and you knew that he felt bad. 

But you didn’t really care, and you were pissed off. Not only had he caused a scene, but he had pretty much ensured that any other shopping you had planned for the day would have to be left unfinished. 

“And if you really want something to be upset about, you should probably know that I didn’t even pay for half of those things because when men see a pretty woman all on her own, they figure she needs some help and are always more than ready to offer it.”

The veins on Kidd’s forehead were popping out and he clamped his mouth shut. 

“But I get it! Playing poker and building legos with Killer all day is more important, so don’t get upset at me or the man actually offering to help me.”

You stormed off once you got to the ship and ignored him for the rest of the night. 

Heat and Wire laughed their asses off at their moping captain, and Killer went to have some tea with you later that night. 

When you went shoe shopping the following day, Kidd made sure he was by your side the entire time, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t get him to let go of your hand. 

#law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law one piece #law smut #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #one piece smut #kidd x reader #kidd x you #kidd x y/n #eustasscaptainkid #captain kid #eustass kidd x reader #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #shanks smut #shanks headcanon #one piece headcanons #one piece drabbles #badgerbl00dwrites