#even called him cute as a last resort. and he just said thanks. and then immediately after he told me to have a good evening 🫥 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kawaii-angelanne · 1 year

Text

TW/CW: nudity of minors (not sexual!), all characters (except the teacher) are in high school

KEY TAGS: spoiler-free/pre-canon, female reader (afab and themes of womanhood), second pov (reader's pov), meet-cute, fluff, strangers to ???

WORD COUNT: 6202

CROSS POST: ao3

OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it! reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated :>

SUMMARY: "'So…' you trail off, shutting the door behind you, 'How should I do this? Do you have a certain pose in mind or…?'

The blue-haired painter (painter-in-training?) turns to you, 'Well, in order to start, it would be best if you began taking off your clothes.'

'E-excuse me!?'"

Or where Kitagawa Yusuke needs a nude model, and you unknowingly sign up.

“Why don’t you just get a job?” your friend, Yanai Toshiko, points out the most obvious solution to your money problem while chewing in one side of her mouth, “It’s pretty easy these days. All you have to do is take a magazine from the job stand in Shibuya Station, look for a job that interests you, and call them up.”

“Right, and,” your other friend, Akagawa Yokkako, takes a moment to swallow her food before continuing, “if you tell them you’re a Kosei High student, they will most definitely hire you.”

“But that’s so much work!” you groan loudly, burying your head in your arms on the table and then lifting your head up high enough to be able to see your friends, “Besides, my brother’s birthday is in a week. I wouldn’t get the money in time even if I got the job.”

“That’s your fault for leaving it to the last minute,” Yanai clicks open the next tier in her bento box, “I don’t understand how you’re still at Kosei with all your procrastination.”

You perk up at this, “Uh, just because I don’t do my work weeks ahead of time like everyone else here doesn’t mean I don’t do well, thank you very much.”

“What’re you even getting your brother that costs so much anyways?” Yokkako finishes the last of the bun she bought from the school store, crumpling the transparent wrapper in between her hands.

“Limited-edition action figure set of this anime he watches,” you drag your chopsticks absentmindedly across your school lunch, depressed from just remembering the price tag.

Yanai admires her octopus hotdogs, her chopsticks holding one in midair, before eating it whole, “Can’t you get him, like, crayons or something?”

You stop swiveling your chopsticks across the pile of rice on your tray at her suggestion, “He’s not six. He’s turning twelve!”

“What’s the difference?” Yokkako snickers behind her hand, earning one smack on the shoulder from you.

“Seriously, guys,” you now resort to hopelessly picking up singular grains of rice with your chopstick, “Do any of you know how I can get cash quick and easy?”

“Well—”

“And legally.”

Yokkako wilters at the last part, her eagerness to tell you to be a cam girl or start selling drugs vanishing in a flash. While she isn’t involved in stuff like that, you knew she would suggest such a thing anyways, which would have annoyed you more.

Yanai nimbles on her chopsticks in thought, “Y’know, on my way to the teacher’s office—I had to drop something off—, I overheard one of the art students asking around for a model. He said he was willing to pay in cash.”

“Really!?” you straighten up from your slumped position, eyes sparkling at the prospect of possibly getting enough money for your brother, “Who? Do you know how much he’s paying? Did anyone say yes?”

“Hmm,” Yanai places her chopsticks down, “I only heard his voice, so I don’t know who he is, sorry. I didn’t stick around long enough to hear everything, so...”

“Ask one of the art teachers!” Yokkako chirps up, “They might know who it is. I think their office is on the…third floor?”

You turn to Yanai for an answer, who nods silently as she focuses on packing up her lunch, and, with her confirmation, you immediately stand up from your chair, “I’m going to go now then! Can’t have anyone taking my precious money! I’ll see you guys later!”

Dashing off, you try not to bump into unsuspecting students, spitting sorries when you do. You’re going to find this art student no matter what!

“Oh, right, I heard Kitagawa asking one of my other students to be his model yesterday,” the first art teacher you encountered answers, “She said she was too busy.”

Still catching your breath from sprinting up three flights of stairs, you stare blankly at her. Her answer as to who was asking for a model was hardly an answer. For all you know, there could be tens of Kitagawas in this school (it would be funny if they were all in the same art class too). Also, why did she talk more about the person he asked? She isn’t your main concern.

She returns to her work, so you press the subject further, “Kitagawa…?”

“You don’t know?” she makes the effort to turn her chair to face you completely, “Kitagawa Yusuke? He’s one of Madarame’s students.”

“Who?”

“Madarame, the artist?”

When you shake your head, she gapes at you but immediately pulls herself together, “Never mind. What do you need Kitagawa for anyways?”

“I was hoping to ask him if I could be his model,” you don’t bother to explain all the itty bitty details about how you desperately need the cash; she doesn’t need to know that.

The teacher squints at the grid paper taped on the wall in front of her, “I have him next, so I can ask for you. I’ll email you what he says. What’s your name? Include your first name as well, so I know what email to use.”

After telling her your name, she writes it down on a blank notepad, and you thank her for the help before leaving. At least you don’t have to track down this Kitagawa Yusuke.

You slide the door open and then close. Checking your watch, you yelp at the time. Class on the fifth floor is starting in three minutes, and you don’t even have your bag!

“Crap, crap, crap!” you repeat under your breath and push your legs to move faster, brisk walk accelerating to a full-out run.

As you make an abrupt turn around the corner to the downstairs, you harshly crash into someone. You shut your eyes, groaning when you make contact with the ground. Still reeling from the fall, you see the obstacle you bumped into, who is somehow gracefully sitting upon the linoleum floor.

“Pretty boy…” the words flow out of your mouth without a second thought, and your hand slaps itself over your mouth.

But really, is there anyone who wouldn’t have the same reaction? Navy blue hair framing the boy’s cheeks so perfectly and shining like it belongs in a shampoo commercial. The lack of blazer all students have to wear with their uniform revealing his lissome frame. The longest eyelashes you’ve ever seen. The most luscious lips—.

“Are you okay?”

At his words, you cease your shameless ogling, “Y-yes! S-sorry, are you okay? I should have been watching where I was going!”

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” he gets up from the floor, brushing one stray hair away from his face, “Do be careful though. It would not be safe to bump into anyone else like that.”

Before you can retort, you remember why you were in such a rush earlier and rise to your feet, “Oh god, I’m really going to be late now! Again, sorry, but gotta blast!”

You abandon him and take off at the same speed as before. Screw getting your bag; you can just ask Yukkako for paper and a pencil.

Your mind races back to the slender guy you bumped into as you scurry up the stairs. You’ve never met him before. However, you don’t think your paths will cross any time soon. It’s been a month since school started, but you haven’t seen him in any of your classes. Besides, he’s too…graceful. And pretty! Definitely not your crowd.

The bell rings once you reach the fifth floor, and you frantically scramble to the classroom door. You practically fall through the back door. Somehow, no one but Yukkako notices your tumble in and waves her hand rapidly. The teacher strides in the front door the moment you sit down, and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

The moment you step foot in your dorm room, you toss your bag to a corner of the room and launch yourself into the comfort of your bed. Thank god your roommate isn’t here right now. As always, a day spent at the illustrious Kosei High deserves a nap.

Too exhausted to take off your uniform, you snuggle on the top of your bed (also too exhausted to get inside the blankets). Closing your eyes, you feel yourself hazing out of reality and into the wondrous land of slumber.

Ding!

Your eyes snap open, tranquility gone and irritation kicked in. When you reach down into one of your pockets, you pull out the rectangular device. The brightness burns, and you don’t hesitate to lower it.

When you read the subject, “Art Model Information”, you sit up from your bed like a vampire from their coffin. Unlocking your phone, you hastily scan the message.

“‘I asked Kitagawa…need to go to Madarame’s studio tomorrow…might let you model!?’ I’m not even hired!?”

You almost throw the phone down on the mattress out of frustration, sleep disturbed for this. You have to travel to his place and aren’t even guaranteed the job? What if you travel for nothing? That would be a waste of a good subway fee!

To calm yourself, you take a deep breath and release it with most of your annoyance. There aren’t any better options, so what choice do you have?

Scrolling down the email, you find the address of this “Madarame’s studio”—you still don’t know who Madarame is—and copy it to paste into your navigation app.

Your finger repeatedly jams the doorbell as you cower underneath the veranda too small to properly cover anyone. Even though the forecast reported no rain, it began to downpour mere minutes ago with no relent in sight. Fortunately, you had a jacket to drape over your head, but it’s not going to hold for much longer at this rate.

“Oh, come on, answer the door already!” you whine.

You pressed the button just once when you first arrived, but, the longer you went on without a response, the more fervent your pressing became. Maybe you should be more patient. However, how good would a drenched model be? You need to get in soon, or else.

Before you resort to holding down the buzzer, a voice slices through the heavy rainfall, “Who is it? If it’s Sensei you want, he’s not here.”

You pause briefly at the strange familiarity of the voice before answering, “Hi, I’m from Kosei High! I don’t know her name, but one of your teachers told you about me? It’s raining pretty heavy out here, so, if you could let me in, that’d be great!”

“One moment.”

The transceiver disconnects. Footsteps approach behind the door, and the voice’s speaker unlocks it. You can’t help but gasp when the door opens to reveal who was talking to you.

The pretty boy you bumped into yesterday!

“It’s you!”

“It’s you…”

You’re too stunned to move, despite the rain pouring (partially) on you. So, this is Kitagawa Yusuke? You even said yesterday that your paths wouldn’t cross any time soon! What’re the odds?!

“...Will you be coming inside or…?” Pretty Boy, now identified as Kitagawa Yusuke, raises an elegant brow while stepping to the side to let you through.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” you step inside and take off the jacket on your head, “I just didn’t think that you’re Kitagawa! Crazy coincidence, right?”

“Indeed, this truly is a trick of fate…”

“‘Trick?’”

What did he mean by that?

Kitagawa doesn’t answer you and immediately begins to circle around you. He mumbles to himself, too incoherent for you to understand. The longer this goes on, the antsier you get. It’s as if you’re being picked apart with his eyes punctuated by those sharp lashes.

It’s not exactly the most comfortable experience.

Before you can ask him if something is wrong, he returns in front of you, done observing you like an abstract work of art, “I suppose you will do for now. Normally, I would try to find a more inspiring subject, but I cannot afford to on such time constraints. Do not worry about taking your shoes off, and, please, follow me.”

Your eye twitches at his slightly objectifying attitude, but you follow him anyway. Before leaving, though, you wring out your soaked jacket directly over the poor excuse of a doormat. Seeing the water permeate fills you with mischievous satisfaction. Seeing how far away he was, you run over to catch up.

It doesn’t take long for you two to enter a small studio room. Towards the backend of the room there’s a window to let natural light in. However, there isn’t exactly a lot of “natural light” shining through due to the storm. The ceiling light seems to provide just enough lighting, some darkness accumulating in the corner.

Various painting and sketching supplies are shelved in the back of the room as well. Three stools are pushed to the side. One stool sits in the middle, and an easel without its canvas in front of it.

Kitagawa goes ahead of you to set up, and you stand awkwardly by the doorway with your jacket over your arms.

“So…” you trail off, shutting the door behind you, “How should I do this? Do you have a certain pose in mind or…?”

The blue-haired painter (painter-in-training?) turns to you, “Well, in order to start, it would be best if you began taking off your clothes.”

“E-excuse me!?” you almost drop the jacket onto the wooden floor from pure shock.

No…is this a nude modeling gig!? Even though themes of nudity happen to make up a majority of famous paintings, you never even considered this would be the case. You’re also a high school student, just like him! Is this even legal?

“Were you unaware that you would be modeling nude?” he strokes his chin, clearly confused, “I made sure to specify that to the teacher though…”

You gulp. Maybe you should have read the email entirely…

“You are more than welcome to leave if you do not wish to do this anymore,” Kitagawa already makes moves to clear up shop, disappointed and…annoyed(?) at this turn of events, “However, if it comforts you, I have absolutely no interest in your naked figure. I am purely doing this for art. I assure you I have no ulterior motives other than painting another piece of work for Sensei.”

“Uh, w-well,” you fidget about, not completely unswayed by his words (even though you should be!), “h-how much will you be paying?”

“Did the teacher not tell you that either?” his brows furrow even more (you really should have read the email entirely), “It might not be much, but, when we finish, I will pay you about one hundred and fifty thousand yen.”

One hundred and fifty thousand!? That would cover your brother’s birthday gift and still leave you some cash to spend! All of that for modeling? Granted, you’ll be naked, but it would totally be worth it!

Wait. Jeez, are you really that desperate for money that you’ll strip for some guy you just met? …No, no, that isn’t the case here! You’re contributing to the art world! So what if you’re in the nude? If this painting is a hit, you’ll be famous, have money, and make your brother happy for this birthday. Well, secretly famous. You don’t want this spreading around, especially to your parents.

“I’ll do it,” you declare despite your heart beating wildly at what you’re committing to, “B-but on one condition! I won’t be officially associated with this. I don’t want people to know that you painted me…naked. So, I don’t want to see my name anywhere near this, got it?!”

“You have my word, thank you,” he softens his curt tone in gratitude, and his lips even curve into a small, pleasant smile.

Your heart stutters for a moment at the unexpected nicety. While Kitagawa hasn’t been outright scornful, you couldn’t help but feel iced out at first.

“Do not mind me as you undress,” his back faces you out of consideration, “I will prepare in the meanwhile. Let me know when you are ready.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Even though his back is already turned to you, you turn your back to him as well for added protection. Well, it would only be your rear side instead of your front side he would see if he turned around (if he does, you’re leaving without a second thought!). When getting ready for today, you opted for a comfortable but still nice outfit rather than your uniform. Had you known you would be modeling naked, you would have just come in sweatpants and a hoodie.

Sitting on the stool, you first remove your shoes. You strip out of your clothes one by one, stacking them into a messy pile on the stool closest to you. Your hands pause at your undergarments. As the room’s chill travels across your skin, goosebumps prickle your skin.

You take a deep breath.

One.

Two.

Three!

You unclasp your bra.

Another deep breath.

One.

Two.

Three!

You push down your underwear.

Adding the two articles to the unorganized mountain of clothes, which had somehow not collapsed yet, you turn around to face Kitagawa. Your hands wrap around your torso, insecurity trickling in like water from a sōzu. Now that you’re actually naked, you don’t feel as confident as you did before when you agreed.

Still, you don’t want to back out now, not after you’ve gone through the process of taking off your clothes. Ugh, you better like that gift, Hanzu!

“Is everything all right?” Kitagawa asks, back still to you.

“Y-yep!” you breathe deeply again to steel your nerves, “I-I’m all ready now!”

He turns around, seeing your naked body for the first time. Despite that, his insouciant expression doesn’t change. He merely clutches his chin between his fingers again; you could almost see the cogwheels turning inside his mind. His ever-observant gaze causes you to cover yourself up even more, your hands sliding up more and legs gradually crossing over each other.

“Stop right there,” he commands with such purpose it freezes you into submission, “This heightened vulnerability and bareness… It perfectly encapsulates both innocence and womanhood at the same time! To think that you would be able to deliver such a concept… Yes, I can work with this. How foolish of me to doubt fate earlier.”

“Th-thanks?” you’re not sure whether you should be pleased or creeped out or if that even sounded like you.

“Please, remain still for now,” he sits at the easel, pencil in hand.

“Sure thing…” you search for an interesting crack in the wall to distract yourself with. With the state of the place, there are plenty of cracks to choose from, which means plenty of story material.

You’re unsure how much time has passed. All has been quiet save for your breathing and Kitagawa’s sketching. Since the session started, you’ve gotten more comfortable. Not completely, but definitely better than before!

However, you now face a new dilemma.

As you learned in psychology class, your brain requires stimulation. When it’s not getting stimulated, like right now, the urge to do something eats away at you like an annoying parasite. And it’s definitely not helping that you’ve been standing the entire time! But Kitagawa told you to stay still. You may have just met him today, but you feel that disobeying an artist’s orders, especially one as passionate as Kitagawa—that’s the impression you get anyway—is just as bad as waking a sleepwalker.

If you can’t move your body, you can at least move something else.

“So, how’s the drawing going?”

His hand falters in the line he was sketching out. With a sigh, he quickly erases it before redrawing. You quietly wince, not intending to irritate him. Maybe you should have realized that talking to him would have snapped him out of his artistic mojo.

He continues to sketch your figure, eyes flickering to you and then the canvas. The silence is even louder, and you’re too ashamed to ask again. Is there perhaps another crack you already didn’t make a story for?

“The sketch is almost finished,” he finally speaks, and you almost relax completely at an answer despite not wearing any clothes, “Sorry, I understand modeling for a painting can be difficult. Would you like to take a short break? I completed the part I was working on and can afford to pause now.”

A break? You thought he would reprimand you for speaking, but that was oddly considerate of him. Well, not like he hasn’t been, but…

“How close are you to finishing? Because, if it’s not too long, then I can handle it.”

He surveys his drawing, “Fifteen minutes should be sufficient enough.”

“Then we can continue, no worries,” you adjust your position to its original state.

“You have my thanks,” he nods and even flashes a gentle smile before resuming the sketch.

After a few more soft pencil scratchings and a few more riveting narratives of the Cracken terrorizing the town with no end in sight, Kitagawa picks up the small, deformed eraser and rubs it strongly against the canvas. His effaces become more and more frequent until he slumps over completely. Despair and hopelessness radiates from him.

“Uh, Kitagawa? Everything all right?” you make it your best effort to not move while also straining to get a better look at him from behind the easel.

“Something’s not right,” he lifts only his head to meet your eyes, “For some unknown reason, I cannot properly draw this last piece. Perhaps it’s the angle of your legs? Or maybe your arms?”

“I swear I didn’t move at all! Not even an inch!” you prepare yourself for a scolding, even though you are one hundred percent certain you didn’t move your legs at all no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I never said you did,” his expression shows no irritation, but his words still cut into you like the crack in the wall, “Allow me to think on this for a moment.”

Mumbling unintelligibly to himself, he pinches his chin between his fingers as his eyes scrutinize you once more like they had in the beginning. You immediately avert your gaze to the other side of the wall. Is it like an artist thing, or does he have this innate ability to pick you apart with his eyes alone?

“That’s it!” he sits up again with such a fervency it almost inspires you to do the same, “Please cross your left leg thirty degrees more inward.”

“D-degrees?”

With hesitant estimation—what exactly is thirty degrees?—you slowly slide your left leg.

“No, apologies, I meant your right leg.”

At his new orders, you, silent and compliant, move your right leg back to where it was originally and repeat what you did earlier to your left leg this time.

“A bit more, please, and point your right foot as well.”

You struggle to maintain your balance at the new position. Praying he doesn't make you do this for much longer, you attempt to keep the shaking to a minimum.

He tuts his disapproval, and your obedience slowly transitions into annoyance.

“Could you curve your foot a little more?”

“Please lower your right leg a little.”

“...Try moving your left leg outward.”

“No, move it back.”

“Why don’t you just do it for me then!?” you practically yell out, frustrated from having to adjust your already-sore limbs every second.

“Good idea, it would save us precious time,” he stands up straight from his seat with such poise and grace, it sends shivers down your spine.

“W-wait a minute, you’re coming over here?” your arms hug you tighter as an unsettling realization crawls on your back.

Not only is Kitagawa going to be extremely up close and personal, but he’s also going to put his hands all over your arms and legs and bend them at impossible angles!

He pauses in his steps with confusion scrawled all over his features, “Yes? Is that not what you asked?”

“W-well, it is, but…but I’m naked!” you state as if it’s the obvious reason (because it is the obvious reason).

“But you have been for the past hour or so,” he raises an eyebrow in even deeper confusion, “What makes now so different?”

“I’m naked,” you strongly emphasize the word “naked” as if Kitagawa somehow did not see an issue in the concept, “I don’t know about you, Kitagawa, but I am not comfortable with you putting your grubby mitts on me as you spread my legs and whatnot. It’s already enough that I’m modeling naked for you!”

“Spread your legs? Why would I ever—?” he stops mid-sentence, finally understanding what you were trying to get at, and his pale cheeks flush red, as if dragged from the center to the red side of the color wheel, “O-oh, I-I see…”

With a clearing of his throat, he continues, “My apologies for being so oblivious to your concerns. However, you currently seem to be incapable of properly executing what I envision for this painting. What to do…?”

Ain’t no way is he touching you! There has to be another way!

“M-maybe!” you interject before he decides that A) you’re not a fit model for him anymore and thus denied the pay you were promised or B) there is no other choice but for him to treat you as if you are nothing more than a wooden lay figure, “Maybe you can…pose like how you want me to? And then I can…mirror it? Yeah? How’s that?”

He stares blankly at you, and, as if a three-second timer went off, he livens back up, “What a splendid idea! Please do your best to imitate me.”

After adjusting his stance to better match yours, he first, as asked of you before, moves his left leg slightly higher to the crux where his legs crossed over. Oh, so that’s what thirty degrees are. Then, with a shift of his torso, he freezes with his eyes intently on you, silently commanding you to imitate him. You immediately follow suit, dumbfounded at how easy it was to copy him when you had failed multiple times.

“Perfect, now please stay like that for just a moment more,” he returns to his stool behind the canvas, pencil already in hand.

You sigh with relief, having successfully escaped any more torment, and focus back on doing what you were hired to do.

This time, instead of continuing to mentally write fanfiction between the crack on the left side of the wall and the crack on the right side of the wall—a true Shakespearean tragedy split by the great schism in the middle—, you find yourself staring at Kitagawa. Since you’re barely a meter away from him, you can see him up close for much longer than yesterday.

He’s so focused. His dark-blue eyes would unblinkingly scan across the canvas as his pencil dragged across the surface. Somehow, a mere glimpse to you can provide enough material to last him minutes of drawing. While his extremely hunched-over posture is left to be desired, his zeal clearly shows with how much he’s leaning in. Any further, and his nose would be touching the canvas!

You also take the time to comment (mentally, of course) on the strange seventy-thirty hair split he has going on. When it comes to parting hair, most go for a twenty-eighty or thirty-seventy split. However, he went the other way and managed to make it look as charming as ever. Even now, side parts aren’t the latest in style, but anyone who saw him would strongly disagree. Somehow, the right side of his hair perfectly frames his cheek. Yes, he has to push a strand or two out of the way every now and then. But, for the majority, it stays perfectly still, coiffed with enough curvature to not appear so limp.

Urgh, he’s a pretty boy in every sense of the word!

After some back and forth from behind the easel to you, the saccades shorter and shorter each time, his eyes then shift to your own. At the sudden eye contact, you flinch, caught red-handed.

“Is something the matter? You’ve been staring at me for quite some time,” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“O-oh, it’s nothing!” you laugh awkwardly, trying to act as if you weren’t staring at him for the past couple of minutes, “I-I was just zoning out, haha! Don’t mind me!”

He accepts your excuse without a second thought (is he really that gullible?), “Well, I am just about done with the sketch. All that is left is to paint it. I greatly appreciate your service and—.”

“Ooo! Can I see?” you jump up from the wooden stool and bounce over to see what he was drawing for the past hour.

Kitagawa immediately stiffens at your close proximity, but you’re too enraptured with what’s before you.

When people meet you, there are some words that easily come to mind: rambunctious, tomboyish, immature, incorrigible. However, you don’t see any hint of that in Kitagawa's depiction of you. You see exactly what he raved about earlier: vulnerability, innocence, and womanhood. How was he able to illustrate you in such a way so different from how most characterize you despite only formally meeting you today?

You also can’t imagine how striking the painting will be when finished. Will he use pop, bright colors to imply your teenage youth? Or will he use muted mature shades to highlight a sense of coming-of-age?

A stammered yelp of your last name draws you back into reality.

“Sorry, sorry! This is just so amazing!” you practically squeal while covering your mouth with your hands, “I can’t believe someone so talented is my age! Can I take a picture? Whoa, this is so cool!”

“I-I thank you for your kind words,” he avoids your gaze, finding the floor most intriguing, “You can take a picture. Please be sure not to post it anywhere should someone come across it and choose to plagiarize my work.”

“Got it!” you hum all happy, ego also inflated from being drawn so well and so beautifully.

Instead of answering, he fully turns his body away from you. You move to his side to find a faint dusting of pink across his nose and the top of his cheeks.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? Your face is kind of red, and—.”

“I’m f-fine,” he clears his throat and shakes his head, all while still concentrating on the weathered floor, “I-I would greatly appreciate it if you can get dressed, though, so I can pay you for your services.”

You look down at yourself, suddenly remembering that you were indeed not wearing clothes, and feel your body heat up from embarrassment, the slightly-cold draft in the room be damned. Your face is as red as a tomato, and your ears are tipped in a similar shade. Squeaking out an apology, you hastily move to the pile of clothes on the chair and fumble through putting them on, too flustered to do so calmly.

Right as you slip on the last of your shoes, you snatch your phone out of your pocket to take a quick snapshot of Kitagawa’s drawing. Up from his stool but still with his back turned to you, he busies himself with something in the furthest corner.

With the press of a button, his sketch is saved on your phone. You observe it on the digital screen, but, even then, it doesn’t even compare to the actual artwork. Well, digital copies never amount to the original anyways.

Pinching in and out of the photo to pick out the finer details, Kitagawa approaches you with a thick, money envelope in his hand, “Here is one hundred and fifty thousand yen, as previously agreed upon. I once again thank you for being my model. You truly brought the perspective I needed for this painting. Don’t worry, I intend to bring this painting the beauty it wholly deserves.”

“Oh, thanks…” your heart skips a beat at his words, moved at his dedication.

With two hands and a slight bow, you accept the money from Kitagawa, who then moves to clean up his supplies. As you stare at it in your hand, unease settles in your stomach.

Was this really going to be the last time you saw him? You don’t share any classes with him. Hell, you never even knew the guy existed until yesterday!

You can’t place your finger on why, but you want to get to know him more. Was it because of his formal speaking mannerisms? His talent? His creativity? His pretty boy appearance (you most certainly didn’t forget that)?

Clutching the envelope tightly, you stride up to Kitagawa with a surge of unknown need, “H-hey!”

Great start.

He turns around from putting his pencils away with utmost confusion, “...Is something the matter?”

“W-well,” you gulp and spit out your first coherent thought, “I-I wouldn’t mind modeling for you again!”

“...Excuse me?” he looks even more confused, and you panic on how to explain yourself.

“Wh-what I mean is,” you clear your throat to stall for time, “I-I really want to see how you paint this and make sure it’s good! It is a painting of me after all, a-and I can be there as a real-life reference! I can even model again, i-if that’s what you need!”

Stupid, of course it’s going to be good. He already drew you perfectly. Actually painting it shouldn’t prove a problem, especially since he’s taught by Madarame, who you found out last night is actually a super famous artist.

Still, despite your floundering attempts, he appears to strongly consider this proposition, “It would be extremely beneficial if I had my subject with me as I painted… However, I wouldn’t be able to pay you again. Unfortunately, I’m a little low on funds this month.”

“That’s fine!”

“Then, it’s a deal,” he takes out his own phone from his pocket, “Let’s exchange contact information, so I can message you when I begin the painting process. It will most likely be in the next day or so, so please keep your schedule open.”

You mentally do a fist pump, “All righty, do you have LINE or something? I have social media too, if that’s better.”

“I must confess I am not all that interested in what the online world has to offer,” he pulls out his phone from his back pocket, “I also don’t have any messaging apps outside of the one already on your phone, so your phone number would be best.”

Nodding, you exchange phones and open his contacts. You’re astonished at the names that flood his screen. Arita Takemi, Mihara Kurumi, Natsuhiko Nakanohara—wow, both his names start with “N!” That’s kind of cool—, Yoshihisa Haru… The list goes on and on! How does he know this many people? Or keep up with them? You don’t even think you have this many classmates!

Choosing not to ask him about it, you put in your number as a new contact. With the addition of your name, you raise his phone in the air to take a selfie of yourself (with a peace sign, obviously). Handing it back, you take your phone to find his contact only with his full name and phone number.

Well, you didn’t really expect much more than that from him.

“Hmm, it appears the rain has yet to stop,” he checks the time on his phone, “and it’s quite late. My sincere apologies for keeping you here for so long. I would walk you to the station myself, but I need to prepare for Sensei’s return.”

Surely it can’t be that late; you got here around noontime. Checking your phone as well, you quirk a brow at his definition of late.

You jam your phone back into your back pocket, “Um, it’s only a little past 5:30, Kitagawa. I’ll be okay on my own, but I appreciate the thought.”

He doesn’t look convinced and leaves the room, “At least let me get you an umbrella. I won’t be long.”

True to his word, he comes back as quickly as he left with an umbrella too big for only one person.

“Oh, thanks!” you blink at it in your hands, surprised at his offer, before back at him, “Well, I’ll be on my way now, but I’ll return it next time I see you!”

“Farewell,” he waves you off, and you do the same.

Leaving the room and out the front door, you notice how the rain isn’t coming down as hard as before. In fact, it’s such a light drizzle, using an umbrella would be superfluous. Still, you open it up before walking out from underneath the extremely narrow veranda.

Kitagawa Yusuke.

He’s so strange and perhaps a little blunt.

But he’s also far more polite than the rest of your male peers.

You put a little more pep in your step and smile with anticipation for the next time you see him, hopefully sooner rather than later.

ENDING NOTE: i present to you a project months in the making with a huge hiatus in between completion! i thought this would be ready to release to the world a month ago but. i was wrong LOL!

so, for a little context, i have always wanted to play persona 5 ever since it came out six years ago. however, i never got a ps4. THEN! p5royal got announced for switch and other devices, and i pre-ordered it almost immediately. now, it hasn’t been long since it came out, but i just finished up makoto’s palace.

playing this game also reignited my love and worship for the man that is yusuke kitagawa. the amount of screenshots and videos i took during his arc is embarrassing. then, i read a yusuke x reader oneshot at like 2 am (it’s on ao3 titled “Emperor” by deareststars! so good, the friends to lovers in me enjoyed it so much!). i sat up from my bed with such urgency at the lightning strike of inspiration and starting writing this.

this wasn’t written all in one sitting; this took about...3 months, and, with college apps, my progress was quite stifled! i originally wanted to do this sunshine, tomboyish, easygoing reader with a begrudging, “i need you to do my painting (for madarame)” yusuke. so, yes, an enemies to lovers. however, i don’t think it was that enemies. i think it was quite normal LOL. there isn’t a lot of romance in this either. i was rlly struggling on what to tag this because there isn’t romance; this is just like. the start of it all! miniseries? no…probably not LOL. right before i was going to post this, i realized i forgot to include the posing scene. my original thought was for yusuke to actually move your legs to how he desired, but i was like reader wouldn’t like that, and yusuke wouldn’t do it if reader expressed discomfort (and she did so). so. you got that teehee.

tl;dr: this was self-indulgent 101%.

#kitagawa yusuke #kitagawa yusuke x reader #yusuke x reader #yusuke fluff #yusuke oneshot #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #《angel writes》#《med shot》

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sweetyyhippyy · 2 years

Text

Flattery Works. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *SMUT*

*NOT MY GIF*

SUMMARY: Eddie gets asked to supply weed for a party. They smoke together, get to talking and the after effect turns hot.

TW: DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE NOT 18+! Smoking weed, mentions of body insecurity throughout, pet names throughout (sweetheart, baby, princess, angel, good girl, daddy), oral sex (fem receiving), biting, a whole lot of dirty talk, unprotected sex (because I’m a whore… I’m sorry), choking, spanking, a little bit of possessiveness?, creampie (because once again… I’m a whore), praising.

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

A.N. This is my first time writing for Eddie! I really hope anyone who reads this, likes it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was already 20 minutes past when he said he would be at her place to drop off the weed she asked him to bring over. The only thing her friends asked her to bring to the kickback they were having.

She sighed heavily, knowing she would have to resort to asking creepy ass Reefer Rick for the hookup, which also meant having to pay almost double what Munson charged, plus she knew she was going to have to slap his hands off some part of her body.

She grabbed her purse, walking to the front door, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor from her bedroom to the front area. Just as soon as she opens the door, she’s greeted by Eddie, his hand balled up in a fist getting ready to knock on her door.

He has a cute little smile on his face when he sees her. Trying everything to not look at her body that was on display.

“Jesus you scared me.”

“I know I’m late, but I’m here. I got what you asked for.” Eddie says, walking straight into her apartment with his little metal lunch box in hand.

She shuts the door behind him, following him to the couch as he sets the lunchbox down on the ottoman, opening it up to different small bags inside.

“Mexican sativa. You and all your girlfriends zenned out for the night, but still lively to party.” Completing the sentence with a little shimmy.

She can’t help but laugh, taking the bag from him. “Thanks Munson. What do I owe you?”

“For you, since you’re so pretty, $30. Plus, I’ll throw this one in just for you later.”

Maybe Eddie was laying it on a little thick, but damn she really was pretty, somehow even prettier than normal with her hair and makeup done to perfection, and the tight little red and black dress she was wearing that really showed off how truly beautiful her figure was that she liked to hide as much as possible.

“Thanks, Eddie.” She smirks, handing him the money from her purse. “You uh, you want to stay back and actually smoke this with me? I’m not going to lie, I’m god awful at rolling. Tragic really.”

Eddie smiles and takes the bag back from her, getting to work packing them a blunt to share. “So where’s the big party for the night?”

“My friend Katie’s house. It’s just going to be us girls. At least that’s what I hope.” She sighs, leaning back on her couch next to Eddie. “See if Jessica doesn’t show up with her dipshit boyfriend like last time.”

“She’s still with that guy?” Eddie laughs, bringing the paper packed with weed up to his mouth, licking the paper to make sure it’s sealed fully.

She half zoned out watching Eddie lick the paper, somehow her thoughts going straight to a dirty place. “Uh, yeah unfortunately. Even though he’s fucked every girl in Hawkins by now.”

“Oh yeah? You too?” He says with a wide smile on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Eddie Munson! Asking about my sex life.” She laughs. “And no, not me. I wouldn’t let that creep touch me with a ten foot pole.”

Eddie grabs his lighter from his jacket pocket, flicking it on and lighting the other end of the blunt, handing it over to her. “Ladies first.”

“Such the gentleman.” She teases, taking a baby hit to start out with.

“Oh come on, princess!” Eddie laughs as she exhales the smoke slowly. “You can do better than that.”

“Fuck off, Munson. I’m pacing myself.” She teases back, trying not to think of the nickname he just called her.

“Aww, pretty girl can’t handle her weed?”

Almost just to prove a point she takes a bigger hit, blowing the smoke back in his face with a smile afterward. “Actually, pretty girl can handle her weed, thank you.”

***

Eddie and her had been laughing their asses off for the past 20 minutes at some stupid story she was telling him; light touches on his arm, and brushes against her thigh.

Each touch made her body vibrate. Smoking already made her a hornball, but adding Eddie into the mix, someone she had secretly thought about letting do unspeakable and sinful things to her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“About?” Eddie asks.

“You ever accept certain favors as payment?”

“What like chores?” He knew exactly what she was talking about, but part of him wanted her to say it, almost as if hearing her say the dirty words made it just that much hotter.

She rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head. “No. Like… sexual favors.”

“Oh! That’s what you meant.” He teases with a shit eating grin. “You know, I can honestly say I haven’t.”

“You don’t get ass?” She turned blunt when she was high.

“Uh, I mean… I… I think I do.” He stammered through his response.

Eddie would be half dumb and half stupid to say she wasn’t cute. He had known her for a few years through her older brother, one of the guys he played D&D with before he started Hellfire club. Eddie would come to the house every now and again, obviously seeing her, interacting once and a while. Now that she was an adult, he felt less creepy admitting she was cute.

“I’m doing everything except spelling it out for you, Munson. Get there faster please.” She laughs, taking another hit.

“Wha-what are you talking about?”

“Eddie.” She sighs, shifting in her seat to get closer to him. “I’m hinting that I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh.” He says with wide eyes. “Why?”

Fucking Eddie.

“What do you mean why? I’m horny, I think you’re hot. Hell, I’ve thought you were hot since my freshman year. Just couldn’t act on it since you and my brother were friends.”

“You really want me to?” He asks, trying to mask the excitement he has in his tone.

“I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

“When you look like that… yeah kinda.” Eddie shrugs, his eyes scanning her up and down, committing her whole being to his spank bank for later.

“Look like that? What do you mean exactly?” In the back of her mind she knew the outfit wasn’t a good idea, she knew it “didn’t belong” on her body, that it “showed off too much of her body”. She got an earful about how “nobody wants to see your body” from stupid Jason Carver in 11th grade in front of half of the school.

Eddie’s doe eyes widened, knowing that what he really meant didn’t translate well. “No, no, no baby. Not like that. You are a fucking knockout. It’s just hard to believe that someone as pretty as you, would want anything to do with a guy like me.”

“I want a lot to do with you actually.” She smiles, shifting on the couch, opening her legs slightly, just enough to make the hem of the dress rise up to her mid thigh.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie mutters under his breath, eyes glued to her thighs. He needed to feel if they were as soft as they looked.

“You are more than free to touch me, you know. Usually I’m not one for taking control so I was kinda hoping you would.” All the confidence the weed had given her 5 minutes ago was completely out the window, but the one thing that wasn’t thrown out the window was that she was beyond desperate and wanted Eddie more than anything.

Eddie took one more long drag from the blunt and blew the smoke out, motioning for her to come closer to him.

She climbs into his lap, straddling him right away. “Hi.” She giggles, touching the jacket on his body.

“Hey, princess.” He responds, his voice already deep and husky. “You’re sure about this? You’ll be known for fucking the freak.”

She snakes her hands up to his long waves, locking her fingers in his thick hair at the base of his head. “Maybe I don’t care about that. ‘Sides, you being a freak might work in my favor.”

“Fuck, I’m in trouble with you.” Eddie mutters before pulling her closer to his body, kissing her lips finally. He squeezes her hips, wanting to feel every inch of her body.

She knew he had to feel the heartbeat between her legs the more she pressed herself against his lap, trying not to grind against him but finding it almost impossible not to move just a little.

The second he feels her grind against his lap, Eddie groans in her mouth, licking at her bottom lip to encourage her to open her mouth so he can play with her tongue.

She smiles into the kiss, opening her mouth slightly finally, moaning as she feels Eddie swipe the tip of his tongue against hers.

They stayed in that position for a while, getting lost in each other. Eddie’s rings touch up her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress up over her ass, his hands massaging her ass.

Her whole body shivered feeling the cold rings on her warm skin. She was the first one to pull back from their kiss, her heart beating out of her chest. “Unzip me in the back.”

Eddie’s slender fingers go up her dress, unzipping her quickly, helping her slide the straps down her shoulders. “Holy shit.” He mutters, his doe eyes glued to her bare chest now exposed to him.

She takes his hand and rests it on her stomach, guiding him by his wrist up the rest of her torso to one of her boobs, leaving it there.

His rings once again make her shutter as one of them brush across her nipple, making the nub grow hard. “You know how god damn beautiful your body is, sweetheart? Like a fucking goddess.”

She wasn’t used to body praise, especially during sex, but seeing how Eddie looked at her naked torso, the part of her body she was so insecure about, it made her ache for him more and only encouraged her to keep going. “It’s not fair I’m almost fully naked and you’re not. We need to change that.” She climbs off his lap, sliding out of the rest of her dress and stepping out.

“No… no fucking panties.” He whispers to himself even though she could still hear him.

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” She asks, putting her hand out to take his.

Eddie nods his head, snapping out of his trance, letting her help him off the couch and guide him to the back of her apartment to her room.

It wasn’t until they reached her room that he noticed she was somehow eye level with him. She was always much shorter than he was. His gaze went down her body until he noticed the high heels still on her. “Baby, fuck.” He almost whines.

She turns in confusion as they walk into her room, flicking the lights on. “What?”

Eddie was quickly shedding his jeans and leather jacket off his body, letting them fall where they may. In an instant he was completely naked as well, grabbing her by her face and kissing her again roughly. “All you have on are those fucking heels, you’re going to be the death of me. Bed, now.”

She smirked at him while she crawls up her bed, laying in the middle waiting for Eddie.

He follows her up the bed, spreading her legs apart using his body, his hands gripping her thighs. “Open your mouth sweetheart.”

She opens her mouth, automatically sticking her tongue out.

Eddie slides his middle and ring finger into her mouth, a devilish smile plastered on his face. “That’s it, princess. Soak ‘em up.” His eyes burned holes into her the deeper she took his ring clad fingers down her mouth.

She lightly gags on his fingers, pulling her head back, releasing his fingers with a string of spit following. A low, pleasurable hum fills the room when Eddie swipes this thumb across her lip to break the spit string.

“Want me to touch you here?” Eddie asks, teasing her entrance with his soaked fingers.

Her body chases his fingers, wanting him to just dive in. “Yes, god please touch me.”

His two fingers push in slowly, stretching her out.

She whines borderline pathetically, rolling her eyes to the back of her head. “Fuck.”

“Keep going, princess? You going to feel full with just my fingers?”

Her eyes were soft, reading desperate as she stared back at his own eyes. “Yes, keep stretching me out.”

Eddie lays on the bed next to her, his fingers still inside her. “You going to be a good girl and cum for me?”

She nods her head frantically, biting her lip.

His fingers slowly draw in and out, drawing out obscene wet noises. He takes his thumb and swipes it sideways against her clit, he remembered reading an article in Playboy, yes read that it was much more pleasurable for a woman’s clit to be played with from the side than just in a plain circle.

“Oh fuck, Eddie!” She gasps, grabbing his forearm.

Eddie’s cock was painfully hard, fighting the urge to rub himself up against her thigh. With his other hand, he slowly travels up her body, to her face, cupping it in his hand while he turns her face toward his. “Damn, you are so beautiful, baby.” With the tip of his tongue, he licks her bottom lip before kissing her hungrily.

Her moans vibrated against his lips the quicker he fingered and rubbed her clit. When she was high, all of her senses were hightened, especially when she was having sex while high. Everything was more intense. Slowly, she felt the tingling feeling creep up her entire body.

There was no way she was already about to cum. Nobody had ever made her cum during sex, but she could never even make herself cum this quickly.

She whines again as she pulls away from their kiss, digging her nails into his arm. “Eddie, I wanna cum.”

“Yeah, cum on my fingers princess. You know I wanna taste how good it tastes after.” He doesn’t change a thing about the way he’s touching her; the pace, pressure, nothing. “Come on angel, cum for me.” He whispers in her ear. “Show daddy you can be a good girl.”

She didn’t know what sent her over the edge, the fact he called himself daddy, the fact that she did want to be a good girl for him, or hearing his voice in her ear. Her whole body shook as she rides the waves of her orgasm out, crying into Eddie’s shoulder, gripping onto him.

“That’s it, baby.” Eddie coos in her ear, pressing kisses to her collar bone. “You did so good for me.”

She nods her head, nuzzling into him for comfort.

Slowly Eddie took his fingers out from her still contracting entrance, his wet fingers grazing her thighs, trying to give her a chance to calm down. “Can I give you a taste?” He asks, kissing her cheek.

“Yes.” She mutters out, still trying to regain her composure.

Eddie picks his head and presses a quick kiss to her lips before working his kisses down the middle of her chest, licking both her nipples before kissing down her stomach, spending extra time there just to show her that he was in love with her body. He slid his body down her bed, resting his wild head of hair between her thighs. His tongue licks up and down both her thighs before biting the skin just to tease her.

She giggles at the small pinch, slightly clenching her legs together.

Eddie wraps both his arms up around her thighs, keeping her legs spread, wasting no time parting her lips with his tongue, kissing her clit before flicking it with his tongue.

She figured out why he had wrapped his arms around her thighs the way he did, that way when he did something that would normally make her clench her thighs, she couldn’t. Her fingers make their way to his long hair, combing them through his hair until she had the dark mane tangled in her fingers.

It was the way he moaned against her while he sucked on her clit that really did it for her. There was nothing hotter than a man who got hot and bothered from eating pussy.

Her clit was still beyond sensitive, only making it harder to keep her legs spread open. “You’re so good at using your tongue, daddy.” She whispers, deciding to use the name he anointed himself. “You going to make me cum again? All on your tongue this time?”

Eddie nodded his head in response to her question, his dark eyes looking up at her while he continued to eat her out.

“You know you look so good between my legs? You know I’ve thought so much about how fucking hot you would look eating me out?”

Unbeknownst to her, Eddie was finally relieving some of the pent up pressure of his cock, moving his hips against her mattress. Her dirty talking to him only made him want to move quicker, but he didn’t want to blow his load before he got a chance to actually be buried deep inside her.

He let one of her legs go, using his fingers to dive back into her entrance, fingering her again.

She rolled her head to the side feeling full again, letting a long sigh out as she got readjusted to his fingers.

She tasted like a mix between heaven and the sweetest fruit on earth, especially the more wet she got, and there was no way he was going to stop before she exploded all over his face. Hell, at this point, he didn’t care if he drowned. It would be a hell of a way to go.

Little muffles, whines and whimpers started coming from her the sloppier his tongue movements got.

Eddie could see, what he could only assume was a mix of his saliva and her juices creating a dark patch on the sheet under her.

“I need to cum! I need to cum again! Eddie!” Her fingers started to pull at his hair.

The harder she pulled, the quicker he sucked on her clit, licking it here and there just to make her jump.

Tears started to sting her eyes as he fucked his fingers into her harder, trying to hold on for just a little while longer.

She didn’t know what Eddie was doing to her that she felt the overwhelming urge to cum so quickly, he knew exactly how to read her body’s needs, even though it was their first time together.

It hit her like a truck, Eddie still not letting up on his rhythm or pace as she shook again.

Tears started to roll down her cheek as she shut her eyes tightly. She cried Eddie’s name over and over, pressing his face into her pussy further as she tried to roll all over the bed, only to be stopped by Eddie’s grip.

Eddie stared at her through her orgasm, his cock throbbing at the sight of her nipples growing hard and the tears falling from her face. Finally he decided to pull away from her, giving each one of her thighs another kiss before sitting up onto his knees.

She grabbed for any part of him she could grab, needing his closeness again, especially now that he had brought her to tears from cumming so hard. Finally she finds his hand, grabbing it to help sit herself up onto her butt. “I need you.”

“Need me where, princess?” Eddie asks, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

“You fucking me. Please, Eddie.” Her voice was desperate, tear stains on her cheeks.

“Yeah, my baby. On your hands and knees first.”

She obeyed him, quickly getting onto her knees, her torso laying flat on the mattress.

“Here, lift your head.” Eddie says, grabbing one of her decorative pillows and placing it under her head.

The sweet gesture made her heart swell.

It wasn’t until now that Eddie noticed a crescent moon tattoo on her lower back, little star shapes scattered along her lower back, the sight of the tattoo making his cock jump. He grips the base of his cock, slapping it against her ass.

She wiggles her ass at the feeling, giggling at the anticipation of finally having Eddie Munson inside of her.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot.” Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“What happened?” She turns her head, looking back at him with concern, part of her thinking that maybe he was coming to his senses and was regretting the decision to fuck her.

“I don’t have a fucking rubber.”

“It’s okay. Birth control is a hell of a thing.” She smirks.

Eddie drags his tip up and down her wetness, making his tip wet with her cum. He slowly pushes himself inside, both of them gasping as he bottoms her out. “So fucking perfect.” Once Eddie found a rhythm both of you were happy with, one of his hands wrap around her neck, his fingers applying pressure on the side of her neck.

“Oh fuck!” She whines, shutting her eyes at the feeling. “Harder.”

With his other hand he grabs a bundle of her hair, bringing her up to be pressed up against his chest. “Yeah, princess? You think you can handle me fucking you harder?” He growls in her ear, applying just a bit more pressure to her throat.

“Yes, daddy. I can take it.”

“Look at me.”

She turns to look at how beautiful Eddie was, his big brown eyes glued on her while his mouth was slightly opened with low grunts coming out. His skin was flushed from all the effort he was exerting.

Their skin slapping together only coaxed him to fuck her harder.

“Who would have thought you can take cock so well? You look so sweet and innocent, but only I know how much of a cock slut you are.”

She whimpers in response, not able to form a coherent sentence, or even a single word for that matter.

“Tell me, sweetheart: how long have you had fantasies about me being balls deep inside this perfect pussy?”

“A-a few years.” She shakes out, sinking her nails into his pale thigh.

“More specific, princess.” He sings, tapping her clit with his hands.

She whines loudly, almost crying. “Do you remember the night, fuck, my parents invited you over for dinner and you spent the night? We accidentally bumped into each other after your shower. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Eddie laughs in her ear, nipping at the skin under her lobe. “What, you were only 16 right? Being so young thinking such sinful thoughts about me. What a naughty fucking girl. Don’t you think so?”

All she can do is moan, Eddie was fucking her stupid.

Eddie roughly throws her back into her bed, his cock slipping out of her quickly.

She lands with a slight bounce, whining at the loss of feeling full.

A loud smack, followed by a stinging burn on her ass makes her whole body tense. Two more smacks on each side, the rings really adding a whole different sensation. She clenched around nothing at the feeling of the lingering sting.

“I asked you a question.” Eddie grumbles in her ear. “If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to need to use your words and answer me when I speak, do you understand?”

Before she can answer, he strikes her one more time, grabbing her and flipping her onto her back.

“Yes, daddy I understand!” She says quickly, giving him her soft babydoll eyes.

Eddie spreads her legs back open, taking his middle finger and drags it up her slit, licking it. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He settles back between her legs, once again rubbing his cock against her lips before pushing himself back in. As much as he wanted to keep his dominant, mean composure up, he could feel it slipping with each thrust.

She grabs him by his shoulders, bringing him to be chest to chest with her, needing to be close to him.

Eddie presses a kiss to her forehead. “God I can’t wait to make you cum again, princess.”

“Yes, please! Again!”

Eddie reaches down to rub her clit, determined to get her to cum one more time. “I’m going to make you cum around my cock, princess. Wanna feel you get even tighter around this fucking cock.”

She nods her head, biting down on her nail. “Please. Wanna cum again.” Her voice was shaky and hoarse. She couldn’t help but roll her hips, meeting his sharp, deep thrusts. “You’re so good, daddy! So good at fucking my pussy.”

“You’re going to make me addicted to this pussy. Don’t know how I’m going to get anything better than this.” Eddie grunts before licking circles around one of her nipples, taking the nub between his teeth and lightly biting down on it. The way he flicked his tongue at her nipple was similar to the way he played with her clit earlier.

She gripped her fingers through his messy, damp hair, wanting him to stay sucking on her nipple. She could hear her moans and cries become almost nonexistent the longer their scene went on. “Eddie, you feel it? I’m so close.”

Eddie’s head snaps up from her chest, sitting up onto his knees. He takes both of her legs, resting them on his shoulders. “Oh, fuck baby. Feel how deep I am?”

“Yes! So deep! So good! Please! Don’t stop!”

“Oh trust me baby, I’m not going to stop. Never going to stop fucking this pussy.” He whispers, hitting her pussy deeper than he could have imagined. “Tell me, ever had anyone else fuck this pussy this good?”

“No! No! Only you, daddy! Only you!” She was openly screaming at this point, not caring that the whole floor she lived on, or the poor old man living directly under her could hear her getting fucked into a different world.

“This is my pussy, baby. Yeah? This pussy belongs to me.” Eddie was losing it at this point, as much as he tried to shield it, she could see him struggling to hold his orgasm back.

“Yours. All yours. I’m all yours.”

“Yeah? My girl?”

She didn’t even have a chance to answer before she hit her climax, her body stiffening like a board at first. “Y-yesss! I’m your girl, Eddie! Eddie!” She cried his name, literally. Tears flooded down her face as she shook, sobs coming from deep inside her chest.

Eddie slowly stopped playing with her clit to avoid overstimulating her. Watching her look at him with tears rolling down her face made him weak. “That’s my girl. So good, baby.” Eddie coos, pressing sweet, loving kisses to her forehead. “You think you can finish taking my cock? That way daddy can cum?”

She knew she couldn’t answer him with words, her brain far too fuzzy. All she could do was nod her head, mouthing “yes” although no sound came out.

Eddie didn’t stop his rhythm at all, it felt too good to do anything but rough fucking her.

“Eddie!” She whispers, although she really meant to scream his name. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, undoubtedly leaving him a bruise.

“Fuck, baby. Take it.” He whispers in her ear. Eddie had the internal battle whether or not he wanted to pump her full of her cum, or if he had the strength to pull out of her pussy. His body didn’t give him anymore time to think before he came deep inside her, buried deep inside her.

Eddie couldn’t help grunt her name out over and over, his forehead pressed to her shoulder as he shot the last bit of his cum in her. “You are unbelievable. Holy shit.” Eddie exhales, gripping the base of his cock as he slowly pulls out, making both of them sigh heavily.

She whines at the feeling of being empty, pulling him back to her. “Again.” She pouts, flashing him her big eyes again.

“Baby, I’m spent. You came for me 3 times, you gotta rest.”

She shook her head, almost on the brink of tears again. “Again please! You’re so good, I’ve never came like that before, I need more.”

Eddie smirks, laying on his side while he cuddles next to her, spreading her legs apart. “You’re lucky flattery works with me. Tell me you can handle one more and I’ll make you cum one more time.” His fingers playing with her swollen and sticky lips.

“I-I can take it! Please daddy. Wanna cum again.” Her voice was so small and delicate as she begged.

Eddie takes his two fingers, gathering up the mix of both of their cum and spreading it around her clit.

She shutters feeling him touch her beyond sensitive clit, but she was completely drunk off his touch, and she needed just to cum one more time to feel complete. “Fuck, baby.” Her head drops to the side, exposing her neck to him.

Eddie growls into her neck as he peppers the skin with opened mouth kisses. “My girl.” His fingers continue to draw lazy circles on her clit.

She rolls her hips, needy for more of Eddie. “Don’t stop please.”

“Trust me, princess, I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Come here.”

They lazily make out with each other, both of their tongues everywhere, and both of them moaning in each other’s mouth.

The familiar tingle inside her starts to build, and all control of her body was gone.

“Eddie! Cum!” She wraps her hand around his wrist, trying to move his hand to make him go faster.

“Give me one last one, baby. You’re so close. Think about how good it’s going to feel, cumming 4 times for me.” He continues to press kisses to her neck, which brings her over the edge.

She cries out loudly, her back lifting off the bed, her heels digging into the mattress.

“That’s my girl.” Eddie says, kissing her cheek. “Such a good girl.” His spare hand reaches out, wiping her tears away that were running down her cheeks. He stopped massaging her clit once she lowered herself back onto the bed, his hands going down to her inner thigh to massage.

She cried once she came back to earth, burying her face in Eddie’s chest, needing his comfort.

Eddie wraps both of his arms around her body, squeezing her tight so she knew he was there and wasn’t going anywhere. “You did so good, baby. So proud of you.” He whispers in her ear.

She nods her head, still feeling sensitive and completely fucked out. “ ‘M tired.” She mumbles.

“Yeah, you did a lot, baby. Safe to say you’re not going to your little party?”

She chuckles, picking her head up from Eddie’s sweaty body. Her hair was deflated, the crimps she once had completely sweated out, the black eyeliner and mascara bleeding down her face. “No, definitely not. I kinda would rather stay with you in bed.”

Eddie smiles and leans up to press a kiss to her lips. “So you’re inviting me to stay?” He asks with a wide smile.

“Oh, you’re never leaving again.” She laughs. “You gave me the best fuck of my entire life, you’re stuck with me.”

“You know, somehow that’s really not a threat to me. Maybe I don’t have any problem sticking around. Maybe… I dunno… maybe I wanna…” He stutters through his words, looking away from her.

“Maybe you wanna…” She tries to coax it out of him.

“Take you out places. Like dates and stuff. Boyfriend and girlfriend shit.”

She tries to hide the smile on her face at the sound of going on dates and doing relationship type things with Eddie.

“I dunno, it’s dumb.” Eddie sighs.

“No no no, baby it’s not!” She says quickly, touching his face with her fingertips, liking how the slight stubble felt between her fingers. “I like the idea of doing that stuff with you.”

Eddie’s sweet eyes look up at her, a smile spread across his face. “Yeah? Alright well, maybe we can do something in the morning. Granted you’re able to walk in the morning.” He chuckles.

“It’s a date.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munsonxreader

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a-s-levynn · 3 months

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OKAY, LET'S GET UNCOMFY ! Feel free to ignore as many, (or all!)as you want. 21 / 30 / 62 / 77 /83

Thank you,

I'll put this under a cut because there will be mention of a suicide attempt, mention of drug addiction, implied death, adult themes and just in general sensitive stuff.

Either proceed with caution or just simply skip it, you are not missing out on anything.

21. Have you ever had to hurt anyone emotionally?

This one is interesting because the question implies that it was intentional and no other option but to hurt the person. I think i only had one of these. I mean did hurt people but not exactly because i had to.. So when a friend of mine called me in the middle of the night i had to actually bully her out of suicide. Which was a desperste last resort because i had no idea what to do. Nothing i said seemed to work so in the end i opted for a low blow and started talking shit about the only person she would have been sad to leave alone. The vague idea was that if i can piss her off enough, her mind will be directed away from the razor in her hand. To this day i cannot fathom it actually worked.

30. Who have you never forgiven? Why?

I could say may father but that would not be entirely true true. I mean i wouldn't say i forgave him but i don't hold a grudge against him anymore.

I could say the local dealer who was the reason a friend of mine got hooked and eventually OD-d. But i know why he was dealing and i can hardly hold it agains him.

But i can say myself. Me not being kind to myself in genral, is not attention or sympathy garnering. I genuinly been awful as fuck to a number of people. And not all can be written off as being simply "young and stupid" even if a few years has passed since. But things were said, stuff happend, connections destroyed and there is no going back. I know having resentment towards myself is not changing any of that, but it helps me stay grounded in a way.

62. Do you wish you could start tomorrow with a clean slate? Why/why not?

As a tought exercise i'd entertain the idea of a clean slate but if i'm honest.. I would not start over. As much as the shitty parts sucked and how many fuckups i made along the way, without them i would not be who i am today. And i know i say i don't really like myself but it is who i am. I wouldn't want to change that, because i don't know how to be anything else. It wouldn't be me. Besides, starting over when i'm just starting to accept all my flaws and shortcomings and admit that i am human at the end of the day would feel like cheap way out.

77. What’s your kink?

This is a funky one for me because i really don't have a healthy relationship with sex at all. But i don't think i have any unusual kinks. Tho i am also a control freak and not in a cute way when it comes to it. And that has some build in innate need for control and all. So that's definitely there..

83. Do you like when people guess how you’re feeling?

It depends but i'm not really fond of preconcieved assumptions when you have the choice to just.. ask. I'm not completely sure why but people jut always assume i'm programmed to be negative, dismissive, nitpicky and in general passive aggressive about everything which is just not true. I might be a complete fuckup of a wet cat in human disguise in general but that doesn't mean i don't care. People tend to forget that i'm basically an excited plankton floating around in awe of the world, if we consider the actual capacity of my brainpower on a daily basis.

#sorry for taking this long #i kinda fell asleep while typing this and than life happend and work and all #levynn answers #moonchild-in-blue #ask game

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justsome-di · 1 year

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New WIP that will sit neglected until NEUD is done. Introducing: Angel. This is my messy, mini-wip intro.

If you like kpop or stories about messy celebrity drama, then you’ll love Angel. It’s not exactly a romance. It’s sort of like a late coming-of-age story because Angel is a bit emotionally immature and is just now getting teenage experiences at 22.

Here’s a lil excerpt I typed up this week:

Cas Solo, pictured left, with family at Meka Solo’s trial on Thursday. The pop artist attended court in a show of support with the rest of the Solo family while his group mates made an appearance at this weekend’s charity concert, pictured right.

Meka Solo’s trial will continue next week.

“It’s free publicity for the group,” Cas said.

Angel rubbed his palms on his joggers. Dae sighed and laid the newspaper down on his cluttered desk. His desk was usually so pristine and nice, but they had just wrapped awards season and were neck-deep in a contract negotiation year. Angel tried cutting him some slack. Even if he was certain the exact same paper cup of coffee on his desk had been there last week at their last meeting.

“It’s not good publicity, idiot,” Miga said.

“I’m not in control of what the press says about my family! Not any more than you!”

“My family isn’t part of some insane conspiracy.”

“That we know of.” Cas pointed a finger at Miga and winked. “We don’t know what secrets your wholesome parents are hiding.”

Miga sneered. Angel pressed his hands into his knees. He didn’t know why he had to be there. He had done what he was supposed to. He had attended the concert, said something cute for the fans, and promised they would be back to making music soon—even though that was, probably, not entirely true.

He didn’t even drink at the concert! That was a huge thing for him, and he was a little put out that he wasn’t getting any praise for staying sober for a whole event.

Dae waved his hands. “Boys, boys. Calm down.”

“Yeah, Miga, calm down,” Cas said. “My uncle might be going to prison. Have some sympathy.”

“Your uncle isn’t going to prison,” Ste said, rubbing his eyes. He seemed more tired than usual. “At worst, he’ll go to some fancy resort that gets called a prison. Rich political dynasties don’t go to normal prison.”

“And even if he is going to prison, doesn’t he deserve it?” Miga asked.

Cas opened his mouth in feigned shock. Then, quickly closed it with half-lidded eyes. “Probably. Guys kinda a dick, apparently.”

“He laundered money,” Miga said. “He stole money from his campaign funds. And he hates, like, every marginalized group in the country.”

“Yeah.”

“Why even go to these trials?”

“I—“ Cas sighed. He reigned himself in. “You don’t get it. Your family’s perfect.”

“They’re not perfect. They just don’t run political campaign scams.”

Cas looked like he wanted to protest. But he just wilted in his chair. “That’s fair. You got me there.”

“Cas, keep doing what your family wants you to do,” Dae said. Angel didn’t miss how Miga rolled his eyes. “You three, thank you for going to the concert. It was good. Even if two of you boys were missing.”

“I don’t get why Kai couldn’t be fucked to come back for one lousy appearance,” Cas said.

“He’s busy in LA,” Angel said.

“More like getting busy,” Cas laughed.

Miga rolled his eyes again, more dramatically to let his disapproval be known, but Angel caught a little smile. Ste pressed his fist into his mouth and turned his head to the side.

“Yeah,” Angel said. “He’s busy writing music.”

“He’s—oh, Skye.” Cas smile, genuinely. “Yeah. That’s what he’s doing. You’re right.”

“What else would he be doing?”

“Aw, Angel,” Ste cooed. “He’s been with Izzy this entire time. They’ve definitely been finding loopholes in our contracts, if you know what I mean.”

Angel didn’t get it. Their contracts said a lot of things. It was why their current negotiations were going on for months. There were clauses about performing with other artists. A lot about money and royalties and how the boys were credited when they were featured artists.

Maybe Kai was looking for new ways to let them work with other artists. Izzy was great, and Angel could believe that Kai was going to push to record with her one day. Whenever NXT came back.

Angel looked to Dae, ready to ask what loopholes there could be, but Dae looked beyond pissed. His face was red, and his hands were balled into fists on top of the newspaper. The rest of the boys were sinking down into their chairs.

“You boys can leave,” Dae said. His voice was quiet, and his tone was curt.

They all got up and headed out of the ridiculously large office. As they walked out the door and onto the top floor of their agency, Cas threw his arm around Angel, and Angel tried to pretend like it gave him comfort. Ste and Miga walked ahead, toward their security at the other end of the lobby.

Angel missed Kai. He handled himself and the group a lot better than Cas did. When they sat in those meetings with Dae, Kai spoke politely and treaded carefully. And Cas did his best to be there for the boys when he stepped in as pseudo-interim-leader. But it wasn’t ever the same.

Angel loved Cas. More than anything. But Cas lacked manners and didn’t think before he spoke.

Better yet, Kai was normal. Like Angel. He didn’t come from a political dynasty like Cas. His parents weren’t famous actors like Miga’s. His mother didn’t own a wildly popular cosmetic line like Ste’s.

Kai’s parents sang in bars and taught music lessons in Los Angeles. They scraped and saved to help Kai get into the pop industry when they moved back to Cadapor. That was why Kai carried himself the way he did. He knew how hard it was to get to where they were.

And that was why Angel liked hanging out with Eisle so much. Eisle lived in a modest apartment with his modest home studio set-up. He didn’t know anyone who had any ties to anything. It was probably why he let himself be the way he was—long hair, jewelry. He sat with his legs crossed and painted his nails.

No one tied to a public family or a huge record label could ever be free like that.

“Cas?” Angel asked.

Cas’s arm tightened around his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“You don’t believe anything that your family believes, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re conservative. Do you—”

“Oh, fuck no. If I did, I’d have an easy life as a politician right now. I’d take my spot as a legacy representative. Why do you ask?”

“I was curious.”

“I think if I was bigoted and gross and hated immigration and poor people, I probably wouldn’t keep a secret from you guys. Also, Kai is an immigrant. Technically. And he’s one of my best friends.”

Angel wasn’t scared to ask his next question, but his stomach churned in knots. What if Cas ever met Eisle and couldn’t see how great he was? What if he didn’t approve of their friendship?

“So, you don’t hate gay people, either?” Angel asked.

Cas’s arm slackened a little. “No. Of course not. Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“I’m just curious. Your family is in the paper every day, and you’re with them—”

Cas stopped walking. He turned to Angel and laid one hand on each shoulder. His face was serious. More serious than Angel had ever seen him.

“Skye, don’t ever think that I share my family’s beliefs, okay? I have to go to all these trials as publicity stunts. It’s just like the stuff I have to do with NXT. It’s just like that.”

Angel didn’t think it was anything like what they did for NXT’s image. As a member of NXT, Cas got to cuddle puppies and tell people to adopt at their local shelter. He got to donate money to schools and visit sick children in hospitals. He posed at museums to advocate for the arts. He had once planted a tree with an environmentalist group.

As the son of politicians, Cas had to sit in criminal trials. He had been pictured as a child at election parties, confetti the color of the Cadaporian flag swimming in the air around him. He had stood dutifully next to his uncles and grandfather at rallies as they shouted that the country was heading down a dangerous path.

Angel saw a great difference. But he also didn’t know it like Cas did. As long as Cas was with the rest of them, as long as they were NXT, Angel wouldn’t worry.

—

When Kai and Angel first met, Angel was still Skye. He was 14, and he sung at a resort for rich tourists. Kai was 18 and very mature.

They were being scouted by the same agent at the same time, and Kai had shown up to one of his shows to see what “that kid” was all about. It was just a small performance. A few songs that half the tourists listened to and half the tourists ate through. But Kai sat at a table in the back—he would have sat closer, but all the rich people had reservations. And no one was entirely willing to put a local teenager at the front.

After the show, Kai sneaked backstage and found Angel in a dressing room with two other performers. Kai looked like a grown up. He wore a sports jacket that was too big for him—it was from his father’s closet, Angel found out later when their agency made him return it for a proper-fitting suit. He smiled, and he held out his hand for Angel to limply shake.

Angel was so stunned by him that he thought that Kai was from their agency, ready to sign him on for a deal right then. But Kai introduced himself as a fellow scouted artist. Angel liked how he said it. Artist. Angel had been referred to as an entertainer, a performer, talent, kid. But never an artist.

Kai said he had a lot of talent, and he hoped they ended up signing with the same label. Kai was hoping to go solo, but there had been talks about getting him in a pop group. Angel, Kai was certain, was going to end up a soloist. He was great on stage. Kai couldn’t imagine an agency taking the spotlight off of him.

Angel was over the moon at that compliment. Him? A soloist? He didn’t know about that. Angel was just lucky a scout had noticed him among the dozen other people who performed at that resort, all trying to make their way into the music industry.

Kai bought him ice cream and soda at the bar that evening. It was a lot of money, Angel thought at the time. But Kai paid for it all like it was nothing. He pulled out his wallet and handed the bartender wrinkled bills.

Angel still remembered how the ice cream tasted. The sugar lingered on the back of his tongue and on the roof of his mouth. He still remembered the way the glass bottle hit the bar in front of him. The server set it down, hard, and the drink almost fizzed over from the impact. He wasn’t interested in serving Kai and Angel. There were rich people around whose tips got more generous the drunker they got on the resort’s fancy cocktails.

Kai didn’t eat that night. And looking back on it, he probably didn’t have the money to buy Angel sweets and buy himself anything.

Really, that happened more often than not in those days. Kai would buy the boys treats and sit with nothing in front of him. Even now, when they all had more money than they knew what to do with, Kai made sure the others had food in front of them before he bothered with himself.

Angel missed Kai.

#wip #writeblr #my wips #my writing #original writing #angel #kpop #writblr #writing community #queer fiction #lgbt fiction

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insecateur · 1 year

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Notes: Nsfw? Suggestive? P much a morning after fic. Yes, it's theodore elm and bubba birch for name hc, yes the elm and his wife are in a polycule w birch and his wife

------

The first day of the year crept in slowly and gradually, the warmth of the Alola sun slipping through a crack in the drapes and bringing some much needed warmth into the AC chilled room, and as the sun climbed higher and higher the song of wild Oricorio, Pikipek and Trumbeak began to ring throughout the Hano Grand Resort.

Professor Theodore Elm was still deep in slumber but very slowly starting to awake. The last thing he remembers from last night was calling his wife and son back in Johto to wish them a happy new year (He reminded himself he needed to get gifts for both of them before leaving Alola)

He nuzzled Bubba Birch’s big, broad, fuzzy chest. His boyfriend was so warm and huggable, not to mention delightfully fat.

But… wait. But if he was against Bubba's chest. Then who was behind him lightly grinding his left asscheek?

Elm cracked both of his eyes open and immediately regretted doing so as a beam of sunlight directly hit his eyes, hissing out a “Fucking shit FUCK!” as he quickly closed his eyes.

The man behind him croaked “Ta gueule, too early” and Teddy groaned as he realized it was Augustine Sycamore.

Teddy lightly shook Bubba, who was still deep in slumber and had a thin line of drool coming out of his mouth “Bubba, Bubba wake up” and only getting more snores in response.

"Calm down and go back to sleep" Augustine murmured, covering his eyes with his arm.

Teddy shook his head "No, I need to know what happened last night"

"We drank an obscene amount of alcohol, fucked a bunch and slept" as soon as Augustine said that his eyebrows furrowed "Wait what time is it"

Teddy turned to look at Augustine "I refuse to believe I fucked you"

"Ah, it's 9AM. We need to go get breakfast before breakfast closes for the day" as he languidly stretched like a very content Persian.

"How?" Teddy said as he bit the inside of his mouth.

"Hotels usually serve complimentary breakfast until a certain hour" he said as he looked funny at Teddy.

Teddy pinched his nose bridge "No, how did we all end up fucking"

Augustine smiling "It's a bit blurry but you pressed yourself against me, and my hypothesis that you have a big cock got proven, not to mention I got to suck on Bubbas breasts" he said with a purr

Teddy blushed Ho-Oh red as Augustine continued "I had no idea you got bitey during sex too. You bit my ass and thighs pretty hard"

Teddy blushed even redder, feeling heat emanate from his face as Augustine laughed "I'm glad we can finally get along well. Let's wake Bubba up and get coffee and water, my mouth feels like a dumpster"

Teddy just slowly nodded "I could go for some actual food myself"

anon i was waiting to finish dealing with the shiny hunting horrors before reading this thank you. i am healed. bubba is a very cute name for birch and i very much appreciate the professor sandwich. bless you

#la réponse d #askbox ficlet #<- boring tag but my brain is too fuzzy to come up with something better #marking this as mature too just in case

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 2 years

Text

Remember a Time iv

Mini Series: (Pt.1), (P.t 2), (P.t 3), (P.t 5)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader

(High School Au)

Word count: 2400

A/N: This story literally keeps me up at night it’s so fun writing this one. Anyways into all the high school angst, I had some time to come up with the plot of this chapter, and Id I do say so myself I think its pretty darn good. I hope you guys like it. P.s Trust the process ;) (Week 1/5)

It didn’t take long for news to spread. People found out who Natasha was and how you knew her thanks to Tony not being able to keep his mouth shut. But that wasn’t even the news that you were worried about. What had truly startled you was news regarding Wanda, or more so who she was now dating. Your thoughts were interrupted with Pietro walking in and rather tactlessly setting his hand on the table in front of you. “Alright, you better tell me what’s going on between you and Wanda.” He huffs out annoyed. “Well hi Pietro how are you? Good morning to you too, no no really it’s no bother sit please it would be my pleasure.” You say sarcastically with a patronizing smile on your face. He sighs rolling his eyes. “You know I don’t even want to know, can you just apologize so that we can all go back to enjoying our senior year!?” He exclaimed. It wasn’t till that very moment that you realized how truly pissed you were.

You’d done nothing wrong, except perhaps falling for the girl. She on the other hand could not say that, she’d wronged you not the other way around. The cherry on top, was that she decided to date the one guy that it would actually hurt to see her with. The one person that you actually harbored ill will towards. After that fatal day in Kindergarten the relationship with Vision hadn’t blossomed. To this day it’s what you’re both known for the rivalry, that everyone thought was friendly even though you both very much knew that It never was. Not that either of you would ever admit it. Both of you could barely stand to be in the same room as the other and that said a lot. And now, she your ‘best friend’ Wanda was dating him. It was your turn to slam your hand down. “I did nothing wrong…” You spoke through gritted teeth. You stood gathering your stuff from the table not sparing him another glance. “And, tell her to stay the-fuck away from me.” You said rather loudly as you were leaving the library.

What you wished you noticed was that half the senior class was present in the room. Later on you also wished you noticed how much this situation disgustingly mirrors every single coming of age teen movie. It wasn't till you sat down with Nat and watched an oddly accurate play by play of what was currently going on. Wanda on the other hand could not stop thinking about you, it was crazy how much time she spent thinking of you. She started wondering when you'd consumed her thoughts, all her current free time was giving her time to think. She'd been short with Pietro after he told her about Natasha more so who she was to you. Suddenly, a fear settled on her shoulders, now the name resonated within her, it was ‘her’ your one. She remembered when you came out to her. How you’d explained that you liked girls, how you felt differently with Natasha, how friendship came so easily, how if she weren’t gone you’d still be enthralled by her. How you’d be head over heels for her. Now the idea of that being true scared her, she didn’t know why, but it did.

She’d gone out with Vision and unfortunately it was a small world and everybody seemed to be at the pizza place where Vision had suggested they meet. He was nice, and somehow also managed to make her laugh and forget about what was currently going on. He was nice and smart and goofy, well that last one was attributed to how oblivious he could be. It was cute, and she had a nice time so she decided to say yes, to another outing the next weekend. It was finally the next week and she hadn’t stopped texting you, or calling, she even resorted to sending mail to your island on animal crossing. At this point she was really depending on your addiction to the game. It was Monday and she was in the library checking out her weekly books. She sighed immediately when she heard her brother walk in. It was only when she saw him approach you that she questioned whether or not to go save you. Only when she noticed that the conversation was heated did she decide not to add wood to the fire and keep her distance. She was confused as to why you were so angry at what Pietro told you.

Then she saw you clench your jaw and slam your hands on the table. All she and everybody else in the library managed to hear was. “And, tell her to stay the-fuck away from me!” Her heart sank at your words, more so the way you said it. She'd never seen that side of you well she has but it was never directed at her.

When you walked out of the library Natasha was already there waiting for you. "So are we finally going to talk about it?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. You sighed knowing you weren't going to escape this anymore. You'd been skillfully evading her questioning, which only really resulted in you hanging out more and more with Yelena. "Why do we need to dredge up the past? There's no need. I'm okay and over it already." She huffs out annoyed. She calls your bluff easily and just walks away without saying a word. She didn't even take three steps before you were already calling after her. She couldn't hide the small smile on her face as she turned around. Her smile was contagious and it made you crack a smile too.

"I forget you know me… too well." You sighed "Nice try. Spill now!" You laughed, raising your hands in defense. “Well I know we haven’t really caught up, but I’m sure you realized that… I swing both ways.” You say trying to not be weird about it. “No, no Y/n I haven’t, what does swing both ways mean?” She asks coyly. It’s only after she starts laughing that you realize she was messing with you. “Asshole.” You murmur. “Yup, now keep going.” You proceed to tell her about the incident, of course leaving out a key detail. She only follows up with “Well that's shitty.” You nod realizing that you’d made it all the way back to her car. She opens the passenger door for you and you step in thanking her without a second thought. It’s only when she sits and buckles up that she turns to you, a serious look on her face. “Why does it bother you so much?” She asks. Quickly she elaborates. “You don’t seem like the type to get hung up on what people think of you.”

She was way too perceptive. You didn’t answer, she seemed like she had more to say. “Don’t get me wrong it is a shitty thing to say to your friend, but still you don’t seem like the type to give a fuck about things like that.” You sigh, muttering “I know.” It was true you’ve never given a second thought as to how people saw you. She smiles at your admission proving her right once again. “Okay then, So why her?” She asks digging in deeper, rubbing your head you mumble a small ‘I don't know’ She tries again, so you give her the same answer again. You don’t really know how it escalated, or how you ended up yelling your secret at her face. Her face just made you want to cry. She was hurt. You yelled at her and she was hurt. “I’m so sorry Natasha I shouldn’t have yelled that at you.” She shakes her head finally unclenching her jaw and fists. “I shouldn’t have insisted, you didn’t want to tell me and I pushed.” She seemed to regret even asking you to explain in the first place. You try to rebut, but she stops you. “I would be mad too If the person I loved… Did that.”

The rest of the drive home was silent, only this time the silence was suffocating you. It was making you feel awkward like you had somehow betrayed her. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll be over in a couple of hours to bug you and Yelena, well I guess mostly Yelena.” You corrected making her laugh. You took the moment to admire her and you smiled, taking the time to apologize. “I’m very sorry for blowing up on you, I will never do it again. I don’t want to make you feel like that again.” You promised. This time when she smiled you didn’t miss the light blush on her cheeks. “I’ll see you later.” You say giving her hand a soft squeeze. You’d never told Natasha about how you felt for her. She’d always call you on your birthday, she’d go out of her way to stay awake and call you when you got up in the morning. It was those times that you realized how she made you feel. How after many months of not talking you could fall back easily into conversation.

The time passed by quickly, and before you knew it you were knocking on Natasha's front door. “Why are you here again? Don’t you like your home?” Yelena asks, annoyed. “No, I like your house better now let me in!” You say as you push past her. “Home sweet home.” You say as you take off your shoes and sprawl on the couch after saying hi to Melina. It didn’t take long for Nat to come down. She smiled and sat on the carpet in front of you. You three actually had a very nice night watching movies and laughing at your antics. Your week didn’t get much better after that moment, all you could really focus on was Wanda, walking down the halls with Vision next to her. Her laughter and his hand holding hers, both of their cheeks flushed. So it’s to say that you had a rough week. Most everybody around you noticed. Natasha and Yelena being the ones to live it first hand. As Natasha was getting ready to go to bed she heard soft knocks on her door. “Come in.” She says as she brushes her hair. “Natasha, I am worried.” She states.

Nat nods for her sister to continue. “Y/n is not acting like herself. As annoying as she is, this new y/n is not it.” She states. “And you’re telling me this because…” She ushers her sister to continue. “So you can do something about it.” She states confidently. “There's not much I can do about that, she’s sad. For good reason too.” She finishes off. Yelena grumbles back. “And you? Why are you ‘sad’? You've been walking around like a kicked puppy since the movie day.” Natasha shakes her head. “That’s not true.” She says looking away from her sister. “Whatever, I’m over it. Do something about Y/n. I physically can’t take her sulking anymore.” With that being said Yelena had left her room leaving Natasha to her thoughts. The next day like usual you knocked on her door, you made no jokes, didn’t even call shotgun, nothing. Nat noticed Yelena's look on you, you hadn’t bothered to comment on how she looked that day. All you said was a pleasantry good morning to the sisters. You heard Yelena sigh a small ‘I’m not doing this’ followed up by her clearing her throat calling both of your attentions. “I’m riding my bike to school today.” She announced without waiting for a response.

For the first time this week she saw a small smile on your face. Making your way to the dining room you seemed antsy. “Alright, what's got you all smiling?” You turned to her like it was obvious. “It rained last night…” She laughed and nodded. “I’m driving today!” You exclaimed. She thought back to what Yelena had said. This would surely make you happy if only for a moment. “Alright you go get her a change of clothes.” You order. “I’ll wait for you in the car.” you said. When Nat walked out she almost stopped dead in her tracks, you were gorgeous, the shades and your loose hair, did her in. You caught her staring, it took you honking at her to get her to move again. “Hurry up, now we have to catch up with her!” You yelled. She all but ran to get into the car. It didn’t take long to find Yelena. You waited trailing slowly behind her until she reached a big enough puddle. You pressed on the gas and laughed as you watched Yelena's form be consumed by the spray of water you produced.

You slowed and eventually returned to where Yelena was. “Man, some bad luck back there huh? Bet you wished you rode with us now.” You said teasingly You laughed in her face and threw the bag of clothes Nat had packed at her. “You told me to fix it.” Nat said cryptically. “I’d say it’s fixed. Have fun getting to school loser.” The smile on your face remained as you drove to school laughing at the comments Natasha was making. It was the lightest you'd both felt all week. She couldn’t stop looking at you, so she saw the exact moment that the smile fell from your face. You got quiet and so did she. She looked at what you were looking at, and her heart ached for you. It was Vision and Wanda in what she had assumed was your spot kissing. She didn’t want to push again so she didn’t mention it. Instead she said. “Let’s wait for Lena, she shouldn’t be that far behind.” You nodded absentmindedly. You couldn’t look away, you were a deer caught in headlights. So despite Nat’s best interest she pushed. “Why don't you fight to get her back?” She asked, trying to sound as encouraging as she could. You turned to her and saw the worry and sadness in her eyes. You smiled softly trying to sound reassuring. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” You said “Besides it’s time for me to acknowledge that she was never ‘mine’ to love, there's nothing to fight for when she was never mine to begin with.”

Tag List: @when-wolves-howl, @alyciaddict, @username23345

A/N: There were two more of you that asked to be put on the tag list however I was not able to. Not gonna lie I have no Idea if the issue is on my side or not, but It might be your visibility settings that are messing with that. I'm not sure at all, if you still want to be in the tag list comment your @ make sure it’s underlined. @mcu-fan-fics-blog. (like that.) Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a good day, or night.

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sparklysung · 3 years

Text

✨SWALLOW YOUR WORDS – l.d.h.✨

pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, enemies to lovers!au

warnings – switch!donghyuck, switch!reader, lap dance, cumming in pants, grinding, dry humping, cum eating, hair pulling (giving and receiving), spanking, mirror sex, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), degradation, dirty talk, bondage (belt), possessiveness (i guess?)

word count – 6.043 words

summary – it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

note – not my best, probably could've done better, but oh well. also this was frkng hard to write, damn, and i may have changed things a bit? BUT, i think it's better like this so… hope you enjoy! btw, i got the idea while reading this, so go check it out –it's good–.

taglist – @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername

another friday night wasting your time at some random classmate’s party. you were everything but happy to be there. you didn’t even want to go there in the first place, only finding yourself sitting on the kitchen counter, drink in hand and an ugly scowl adorning your face, because of your annoying best friend.

“hey, i get it, you didn’t wanna come here when you could have been peacefully sleeping in the comfort of your room, but come on, at least try to have some fun. you’re already here anyway.” eunbin –aka your annoying best friend– said, pouting her lips in a failed attempt of looking cute.

you kind of felt bad for her, you suppose it wasn’t exactly easy to deal with your lazy ass. but still, she was supposed to love you and appreciate you just the way you were.

and most of the time she did, just not in this specific situation.

“this isn’t fun at all, i just wanna go home. there’s nothing in here for me at all.”

you brought the red plastic cup to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid eunbin had mixed for you. you weren’t lying, there really wasn’t anything that would make you want to stay, only a few friends of yours getting drunk somewhere in the big house you were currently in.

“come on, please, stay for me,” eunbin fake cried, and for a moment you thought she was going to give up and let you go. “in a bit the guys are gonna play something fun! we should join them, please?” as her last resort, she looked at you with puppy eyes. she was playing dirty and she knew it, you both knew you couldn’t resist them.

giving in with an exasperated sigh, you jumped off the counter to get yourself another drink from the bar in the living room. you were minding your own business until you heard him, the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

“so, i’m telling you guys, she was literally begging me to fuck her, she even moaned while sucking me off–,” donghyuck’s obnoxious voice filled your ears, making you roll your eyes. he was surrounded by a couple of other guys you didn’t know so well but were sure you had seen them before around campus hanging out with him.

“shut up already, dongdong, no one wants to hear it.” you interrupted, walking past him and towards the half empty bottle of vodka on the bar counter.

the group of boys stopped abruptly, all of them turning to look at you, ready for the scene that was going to take place in matter of minutes. donghyuck’s attention also turned to you, biting back a triumphant smirk with a raised eyebrow. he could see past you so he didn’t mind the mocking nickname you used; he could tell you were trying to irritate him enough to make him go away. but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. he had been eyeing you all night, trying to find ways to get under your skin to catch your attention. and finally, after staying at a safe distance for a while to not spark suspicions, he got what he wanted.

“why so feisty, babe.” the cocky smirk he gave you just made your blood boil, the growing desire to punch it off his pretty face only getting stronger the more you stared at him.

“don’t you get tired of talking shit all day?” you barked, eyes trained on his body while pouring yourself a good amount of alcohol.

you were certainly going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night.

“you boast about girls begging for you but i think you’re just trying to hide the fact that you’re the one who has to beg to get laid.”

“i don’t beg, baby.” you rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘sure’. “also, if you’re jealous of me fucking other girls you just had to say it. i wouldn’t be against giving it to you instead.” the stupid wink he threw at you made your body shake in anger, already fed up with the conversation.

“you wish, asshole.”

“actually, i do.”

donghyuck was so fucking annoying, always teasing you and never leaving you alone. your personalities clashed constantly resulting in fights filled with screams and curses, sometimes to the extent of interrupting the class and getting the two of you kicked out of it. he enjoyed watching you struggle and suffer due to his awful pranks, so you were his favorite target. you couldn’t even have a proper date with anyone because he made sure to mess it up either by scaring the crap out of the guy or sabotaging your plans. he almost completely ruined your love life and cockblocked you forever.

you did not get along and everyone knew it.

although eunbin thought it was pure sexual tension and you just needed to get your frustrations off of you with a good fuck.

it wasn’t though.

or was it?

“let’s go hang out with the guys,” your best friend nudged your arm excitedly and you sighed, not feeling like playing anything with them. every time you decided to give in and take part in ‘something fun’ with the guys, it always ended up with you either in trouble or scarred for life.

you had a bad feeling about this all.

“ugh, fine.” she cheered and pulled you through the crowd of drunk people until you reached the basement.

the sound of laughter and screams drowned the music blasting upstairs, there were empty bottles of alcohol sprawled all over the floor and tables and a circle of people in the middle of the room. both of you joined the group with you sitting between eunbin and mark, a close friend of yours that you sadly shared with donghyuck. while you casually chatted and played around with the boy, happily laughing the night away, you could feel a pair of eyes burn holes into your skull. you didn’t have to look up to know who those eyes belonged to, as said person wasn’t even trying to dissimulate.

and by said person you meant donghyuck.

donghyuck hated the way you leaned on mark’s body, how you let his friend rest his head on top of yours and wrap his arm around your waist.

he was jealous, really jealous of your close friendship with the older boy.

mark and you had been friends for a long time now and you could even consider him your best friend, so you were comfortable around each other. you usually hugged, held hands and cuddled, he was used to you wearing his clothes –half of your closet were stolen hoodies that once belonged to him–, he even had a spare change of clothes in his room just in case you decided to drop by for an improvised sleepover. so it wasn’t surprising when sometimes when the two of you hung out on your own, people –even your friends in common– mistook you as a couple.

and the idea of you two dating made donghyuck feel sick to the stomach.

“we’re playing truth or dare, who wants to start?” seoyeon, one of your friends, spoke while looking around for someone to volunteer.

“i’ll go.” lucas raised his hand and everyone nodded, not minding.

the game went smoothly for a while and eventually, the more alcohol everybody drank, the crazier things got. mark ended up getting dared to lick whipped cream off of yuta’s chest and xiaojun had to cross-dress and dance on a table. everything was fine, you hadn’t been picked by anyone yet so you were pretty much having fun just enjoying the show.

until someone called your name.

“y/n, truth or dare?” jaehyun asked with a smirk.

he had an evil glint on his eyes making you feel suspicious. you knew you couldn’t choose truth or else everyone would make fun of you for being a pussy. and jaehyun just knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to let that happen.

you weren’t one to back down.

still, the way he stared at you made an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

what could he possibly have in mind?

“dare.”

seems like your gut feeling was right after all.

“give hyuck a lap dance,” jaehyun said immediately after the words left you mouth, making everyone in the room shake, some in excitement and some –you– in anger. donghyuck wasn’t expecting to take part in the dare, but he really wasn’t complaining either. “thank me later babe,” his shit-eating grin only adding fuel to the fire.

fuck.

just as eunbin, donghyuck could sense the sexual tension. and unlike you, he acknowledged it.

but for him it wasn’t just that.

you two had known each other –or at least acknowledged each other's existence– for a few years now, since high school. he was forced to see you almost every day at school, so, naturally, fondness for you started growing slowly in his chest. but it wasn’t until you both left for college that your ‘enemies’ label was established.

and if someone thought he may possibly like you, they were damn right.

he did.

it all started during freshman year, when he tried to befriend you during one of the classes you shared. you seemed irritated by his advances and wanted him away from you, so after a few attempts of softening your heart, he resolved that the only way to stay close to you was annoying the hell out of you.

childish? yeah. he cared? not really.

“come here, babe.” donghyuck tongued the inside of his cheek, a smirk forming on his lips. as he saw the grim look on your face, he sprawled his legs, patting his toned thigh invitingly, eager to get things started.

the look jaehyun gave you had ‘you’re not backing down, are you?’ written all over.

“shit, i hate jaehyun, why did he have to do me dirty like that?” you mumbled angrily to eunbin and she just laughed, finding the situation way funnier than you.

“maybe tonight won’t be as boring as you thought? maybe you’ll end up getting laid.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you only scoffed, “shut up, dumbass.”

“why did you have to do me like that, huh?!” you almost screamed at the older, taking a mental note to beat him up later. he just shrugged and threw you a wink, “asshole.”

mark patted your back to help you relax, he could see you weren’t exactly happy about your dare.

“come on, which song would you like, my lady?” lucas asked, scrolling through his spotify for suiting songs.

“or nah!” yangyang answered before you could even open your mouth. just as you were about to ask for a less sexual song, cheering erupted through the room.

everyone was pumped, adrenaline running through their veins and pushing them to do stupid stuff they would probably regret the next day after waking up hungover. and things just took a rather interesting turn, so they obviously were excitedly awaiting the next series of events.

yay, more stupid memories to regret later.

on the other hand, donghyuck was as doomed as you. he knew the song well, he knew the lyrics by heart but what he didn’t know was if he could control himself with you basically dry humping him in front of a bunch of people to the rhythm of it.

he wasn’t sure it was a great idea.

as soon as you got up to complete the dare, you heard cheering and clapping. and you weren’t going to lie, you wanted to throw yourself out of a window.

breathing deeply in an attempt of relaxing to just get it over with, you made your way towards donghyuck until you were standing a few feet in front of him.

as the music started playing, you started moving. running your finger on the surface of his clothed shoulder, you walked slowly around him, like a predator circling its prey. he tried not to follow your movements, already getting anxious by your closeness and nervously waiting for your next move.

i’ma smoke this joint then i’ma break you off.

i’d be lying if i said you ain’t the one.

you pushed his legs open and settled between them. your hands rubbed his thighs teasingly, fingers drawing closer to his crotch but not quite getting there. you took your sweet time feeling him up, softly scratching his strong arms and leaving red trails behind. donghyuck was so into it, enjoying the sight of you kneeling before him so much that his pants were already starting to feel tight.

heard you not the type that you take home to mom.

is we fuckin’ when we leave the club or nah?

i ain’t spendin’ cash for nothin’ i wanna see you take it off.

and oh how he wanted to see you take it off. all night he couldn’t take his eyes off of your figure, you looked really good in the outfit eunbin had chosen for you.

so good it was almost making him drool.

you sat on his lap, hands going to caress his toned chest and stomach. it was well-known that donghyuck exercised frequently, but it still surprised you. he felt so good you had to bite your lip to prevent a sound from coming out.

when you shifted to sit closer to him, his hands flew to your hips and you could tell his intention was to move them lower to grope your ass, but you weren’t having it.

do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?

you can ride my face until you’re drippin’ cum.

“if you try to touch me again, i’ll tie you up,” you said with a sweet smile plastered on your face, grabbing him by the wrists and harshly dropping them away from you. donghyuck let out a startled gasp at that, obviously not expecting your attitude. with his hands twitching to grasp anything, he went to grip tightly the sides of the chair.

can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?

can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?

your hips ground against his crotch at such a slow pace that donghyuck was having trouble not pushing you down on him faster. he was getting embarrassingly hornier as seconds passed and wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, even with his friends’ eyes on you both.

donghyuck tried so hard to restrain himself from touching you. he wasn’t one to follow orders, but he tried just for you, he really did.

i’m not the type to call you back tomorrow.

but the way you wrappin’ ‘round me is a prob.

and everything was fine until you kissed him. synchronized gasps filled the room, the sudden show of affection confusing everybody. not even your intoxicated self could understand what the hell were you doing nor who you were doing it with. his breath got stuck in his throat, heart thumping against his chest at an alarming rate. his hands almost tried to bring you closer, but he realized what he was doing on time to stop himself.

he finally broke down when your mouth sucked on his tongue, making his hips grind up against yours unconsciously as his hands grabbed you by your waist, pressing your body flush against his.

that was it.

“you asked for it,” your movements came to a stop as you took off your black leather belt, sticking to your threat of tying him up if he didn’t quit it.

pussy so good, i had to save that shit for later.

took her to the kitchen, fucked her right there on the table.

“oh shit,” donghyuck stirred under you trying to get out of the situation.

this couldn’t be happening.

“no, please,” he whimpered as you fastened the belt until it was wrapped tightly around his wrists, locking his arms behind his back. your audience was unable to hold in their surprise, some mouths falling open. he fought against the restraints to no avail, desperate to free himself, “please, let me go,” he cried out quietly, not wanting the other occupants in the room to hear him.

“stop complaining or else i’ll also gag you,” you spat harshly in his ear, done with his attitude, and he swallowed hard. as you nibbled on his lobe, you felt a strong sense of confidence. it made your chest swell in pride to see the usual big mouth jerk with a smug grin constantly attached to his face falling apart under your touch.

seems like he was the one to beg, after all.

you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music, making sure to press harder against the sensitive tip of his cock, which was already leaking precum. although you weren’t an expert, you’d given a fair share of lap dances, so you knew what you were doing.

and donghyuck could certainly tell.

don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.

take it for a real one.

you gon’ get it all.

“whose bitch are you now, huh?” donghyuck couldn’t speak properly, way too hot and bothered for his brain to come up with any smart-ass response.

you tsked disapprovingly at his lack of response.

“when i ask you a question, you answer.” your fingers tangled in his hair and with a harsh tug you forced him to look up. donghyuck was dazed, lips swollen from you biting on them, eyes glassy from arousal, and mind clouded with lust.

“yours.” he whimpered quietly, forgetting momentarily about your audience.

“good boy.”

you loved how easy it was for you to break him and leave him wanting more, to have him so putty in your hands. specially since hearing comments of other female classmates about donghyuck teasing them almost till the brim of tears was part of your day-to-day life. it felt like you were getting revenge for all of them, so you were enjoying it a lot more than anyone could imagine.

your plump lips trailed down the length of his neck, leaving wet kisses along his honey-like skin, and he threw his head back to give you more access. as you licked, sucked and bit the flesh, donghyuck could hear his heartbeat loud over the music. he usually wouldn’t let a girl suck hickeys on his skin, but the idea of you marking him while everyone watched was rather exciting.

he swore the seconds passed slower than usual. you were just halfway through the song but he didn’t know if he could survive any longer.

donghyuck felt light-headed and painfully aroused, and he wasn’t going to last long if you kept kissing him and moving your hips the way you were.

“i’ma go as far as you let me,” your movements became slower to tease him, making the poor boy want to cry in agony. his jeans felt way too tight to be comfortable and he hoped everyone could just leave you two alone to take it off.

“shit, please,” donghyuck’s eyes closed, head falling forward and hanging low as drops of sweat slid down his forehead. the room felt like an oven and he didn’t know if it was a result of the significant amount of people in such a small space, the alcohol, his choice of clothing or your body pressed closely against his.

probably the latter.

girl, is you sucking me or fucking me or nah?

can i bring another bitch? let’s have a threesome.

“keep saying you’re a freak, you gon’ prove it or nah?” you quietly sang along, pulling his face closer by his hair and grinding down on him harder.

donghyuck was going crazy, he had never expected you to be so sexy, to behave so dirtily. but he loved it, and by the prominent tent in his pants, everybody could tell he was in for the ride of his life.

you’s a ride-or-die chick, you with this shit or nah?

say you not a side bitch, you all-in or nah?

you gon’ make them eggs cheesy with them grits or nah?

you brought him in for a hot kiss that left his head spinning.

donghyuck was growing restless as his climax neared, he was so close he could almost taste it. he couldn’t remember when the last time he got so close to cumming only from some teasing was.

everything was happening so quickly he wasn’t able to stop himself before giving in to the pleasure.

“h-holy fuck,” with a shaky moan that you swallowed, donghyuck shot his load, staining the crotch of his dark jeans. you could feel the wetness seeping through the piece of clothing and dampening your bottoms. his hips gave a few more sloppy thrusts, legs shaking weakly and cock twitching from the confines of his jeans, before falling limp on the chair.

or nah.

as the song ended, he came down from his high. you freed him from the iron grip of your belt, the skin on his wrists was red and slightly swollen. you may have tightened it too much in the heat of the moment, but you weren’t apologizing after giving him probably the best orgasm of his life.

the bewildered expression on his face quickly turned grim as it hit him.

he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

in a room full of people.

in front of his friends, yours and you.

his friends stood there, both confused and surprised to see donghyuck so affected by your touch. nobody had expected things to end the way they did.

“damn, are you okay my man?” johnny asked, laughing at his friend’s flustered state.

“shut up,” donghyuck answered bitterly. he shot up from his seat, grabbing your hand and shoving you inside the nearest bathroom in the house. he didn’t even care to cover the wet spot on his pants, walking with his chin up and a scowl plastered on his face.

and blame it on how riled up you had gotten from the feeling of his hard dick pressing against your needy pussy, but damn, he looked good.

“i wanna go next!” hendery spoke excitedly. you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually wanted you to give him a lap dance too. either way, it made your lips turn upwards in a smug grin.

once you both made it to the bathroom, he locked the door before pushing you against it, back pressed flush into the hard piece of wood. the ambience took a 180 turn, your confidence faltered slightly at the sight of his angry form.

“you think it’s funny, yeah?” he hummed angrily in your ear. “you think i’d let you do whatever you want and embarrass me in front of my friends just because you feel like it without payback?” the look on his eyes getting darker as the words left his mouth.

“if so, oh baby, you were so wrong.”

trying to test him, you decided to answer.

“you’re all bark and no bite, what else am i supposed to think?” you smirked devilishly when you saw him clench his jaw.

“you’re gonna regret being a brat,” his slender fingers wrapped themselves around your waist and with a harsh tug, he pulled you closer to attack your lips, biting and sucking on them, making your legs wobbly. he tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, probably from the liquor he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t seem to get enough. his lips were soft and plush as they mingled with yours, teeth roughly clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, “am i?”

donghyuck hissed through his teeth as he unbuckled his pants, letting his cum-covered shaft spring free. he was already hard and you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease some of the tension building up between them. his hand shot to your throat, tightening his grip until you couldn’t breathe properly, before forcing you on your knees.

donghyuck tapped his hard and heavy cock on your lips a couple of times before speaking. “open up, slut,” and you did as you were told, parting your lips and poking your tongue out, waiting for him to slide in.

but he didn’t.

he wanted you to lick him clean, he wanted to see you do as he said, follow his orders like a good girl without complaints.

“clean the mess you’ve done. now.”

the harsh tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. your hands immediately shot up to grab a hold of his length, but before you got too close he stopped you. confusion was written all over your face and for a moment you worried he had changed his mind.

“no hands, i want you to work on it only with that dirty mouth of yours.”

with your hands gripping onto his thighs, your tongue swiped from the base to the head of his cock, eagerly licking him clean. once you had swallowed every drop of his cum, your mouth took him whole, hollowing your cheeks, one hand massaging his balls. donghyuck threw his head back as yours bobbed at a rapid pace, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

when he was about to cum, he pulled away from your mouth, making you whine at the loss. wrapping his hand once again around your throat like a beautiful necklace, he forced you up on your feet. he turned you around before pulling you closer by a rough tug. your clothed ass pressed against his dick, a mixture of his arousal and your saliva wetting the cloth. your hips ground back to both tease him, desperate to feel something, anything. his hands went to the front of your jeans, rubbing his fingers over your clothed clit and a whimper fell from your lips.

“more, i need more,” you pleaded, the barrier of clothes making the feeling less pleasurable.

he surprisingly complied without resistance, dipping the digits under the restricting cloth. a deep groan vibrated against the side of your neck when he felt the wetness that had been gathering inside your panties since your dare.

“look at you, so damn wet,” his mouth watered at the feeling of your needy heat. at this point, donghyuck knew everyone had an idea of what you two could possibly be doing, and although he would enjoy returning the favour by eating you out to his heart’s content, there wasn’t enough space nor time to do so comfortably. but he swore he would make it up to you some time.

“for who is it, baby?” the answer was obvious, but still, he wanted to hear it directly from you. he inserted one long finger until it was knuckles deep inside of you and you let out a squeak, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“for you donghyuck, all for you.”

“that’s right, slut, only i can make you that wet, only i can touch you like this. you’re mine, don’t forget that,” he inserted a second finger and pumped them deeply into you.

“yes,” you breathed out softly, too far gone to fight back with a snarky remark.

although his fingers felt good and you could possibly –with a bit of an effort– cum just from them, you still wanted more. you wanted to feel the nice stretch of his cock tearing your walls apart.

“please, donghyuck.”

“what do you want?”

donghyuck knew what you wanted. fuck, he wanted it too, so bad. he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and now that he could finally have it, he was going to make the best out of it.

“fuck me,” your core ached to be filled so you swallowed your pride and spoke out.

“condom?”

“we don’t need it, i’m on the pill,” you rushed, stomach twisting and turning in excitement, “please, just fuck me.”

donghyuck’s eyes turned darker, lust clouding both of your minds with the only desire to fuck each other stupid. he pulled down your jeans so they were pooling on your ankles and went back to pump his fingers inside you to make sure you were ready to take him. as he entered you, you had to lean on the sink in front of you to hold yourself up or else you would have faceplanted the mirror.

“you feel so good, fuck, so fucking tight,” donghyuck growled when he was balls deep in you.

whimpers fell from your lips from the delicious stretch of his thick cock. after a few seconds of you adjusting to his size, you backed your ass into his hips to let him know you wanted him to move. he gave a couple of thrusts to test the waters before picking up his pace and you gripped the sides of the sink as he pounded into you. his mouth worked on your neck while you brought one of his hands under your shirt to play with your breasts.

“such a pretty sight, don’t you think?” he tugged harshly at your hair to force you to look at your reflection on the mirror, thrusts never faltering.

your makeup was ruined; lipstick smeared messily all over your lips from the hot make-out session, neck full of bruises donghyuck left to claim you, shirt pulled above your breasts displaying your puckered nipples while one of his big hands grabbed your boob as they bounced with every hard snap of his hips.

“you have no idea how many times i had to control myself not to pounce on you,” his eyes never left your quivering reflection, completely in love with the way your frame molded with his, “every single time you couldn’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed and all i wanted to do was shut you up with my cock.”

“f-fuck,” his thrusts turned rougher as his free hand wrapped around your neck, tightening his grip and amplifying the mind-blowing sensations he was giving you.

your asscheeks slapped against his hips, which drilled against you at an unhuman pace, hitting the right spots with every snap and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, loud moans threatening to fall from your lips so you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“don’t, i want to hear you,” he gave a particularly hard thrust to try and draw a sound out of you, “i want you to be so loud that all of our friends know what we’re doing, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”

specially mark.

but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“h-hyuck,” you couldn’t hold back the broken moan that fell from your lips, pleasure overtaking your body. your hands gave in and you almost fell forward, but donghyuck reacted sooner and pulled you by your hair, holding you up.

“address me properly, brat,” he growled in your ear. you felt a hard slap on your ass, the skin of the abused area stinging from the impact.

“i’m sorry… fuck, donghyuck,” your cries went straight to his dick, urging him to fuck you harder. he kneaded the flesh soothingly before spanking it again and again until you could make out the imprint of his big hand on your asscheek.

“f-faster, please,” you pleaded in a whine and he tsked, shaking his head, “such a greedy little slut.”

“what would everyone think of you if they could see you so eagerly taking my cock, mm?” donghyuck hummed, “begging for me to fuck you until you can’t walk properly?

shocks of pleasure shot through you, his dirty talk helping you reach your release faster than you anticipated. his grip on you was so tight you were sure you were going to be sore the next day. your moans turned pornographic as you neared your release, your walls squeezed around donghyuck to the point he was unable to move, so he started drawing circles over your sensitive clit to help you get off.

“let go, baby.”

and soon, his touch threw you over the edge, causing your body to shake and a broken moan to fall from your lips, legs weak as your whole weight only relied on your arms for support. he followed shortly after, grunting as he filled you up with his warm and sticky essence.

as he pulled out, a mixture of your slick juices and his seed leaked from your abused hole, dripping down your inner thighs. his fingers slid over to gather the drops of cum and opposite to your assumption, he didn’t push it back inside of you but brought the digits to your face, waiting for you to open your mouth.

“suck.”

and you did, eyes locked with his through the mirror as your tongue swirled around his fingers to lick them clean.

“fuck,” donghyuck sighed, “i didn’t know you were so dirty, sweetheart.”

and the teasing comes back.

“do you want me to remind you how i made you cum in your pants back there in a room full of people?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and he just let out a breathy laugh.

“whatever. either way, even if they didn’t have the pleasure of fucking you or at least seeing you get fucked, they surely could hear you from how loud you were screaming my name.”

“good thing mark now knows who you belong to,” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think and both of you shared a look of pure shock.

“did you just mention mark?”

“…no?”

“you did! what the fuck? were you jealous of mark?” you asked, eyes wide as you remembered the disgusted look on his face when you and mark got too touchy with each other during the game.

“i am jealous of mark.”

“what? why?”

“oh my god, you’re so dense.”

“shut up, i’m not.”

“yes, you are. i like you dumbass, that’s fucking why. why wouldn’t i be jealous if you two act like you’re dating but always deny it when questioned? i can give you my hoodies, i can cuddle you and hold your hand, i can spoil you with cute stuff. i can be your boyfriend, it doesn’t have to be him.”

everything was so weird.

you were supposed to be enemies for fucks sake.

but he looked cute with pouty lips.

“well, you sure have got a damn weird way of demonstrating it.”

“shut up, okay?” donghyuck snapped, done with trying to get you to shut the fuck up. “i just didn’t know how to approach you or talk to you at all, alright?” he sighed, a scowl forming on his face. “you always seem to be angry when i’m around.” the change in his voice shocked you, it was much softer now, as if he was afraid of you hearing it.

“hey, don’t beat yourself for it, alright?” you sighed, feeling bad for being so mean to him for no reason. because you really didn’t have a reason. whenever you weren’t at each other’s throats and you got time to observe him from afar, you saw how caring he was with his friends, even if most of the time he annoyed the crap out of them.

donghyuck actually seemed like a good guy… if you ignored his teasing.

maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

“so, would you be my-,”

suddenly, the sound of banging on the door resonated through the room.

“are you done already? i need to pee.”

you quickly fixed your clothes, embarrassed by the presence of someone outside the door waiting for you and donghyuck to get out and momentarily forgetting about the boy’s proposal. just as you were about to open the door and get yourself the fuck out of the situation, his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and whisper to your ear in a way you could feel your panties get damp once again.

“we’re not done yet, princess.”

–lia:)

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hockeywhy · 3 years

Text

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

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

one.

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

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

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

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

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

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

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

You needed a plus one. Desperately.

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

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

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, Matt—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

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

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

“Here you are.”

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

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

What the hell.

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

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

“Oh we’re just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, it’s torture.”

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

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

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

“Thought about it already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it my jersey?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll auction it on eBay.”

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

two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here for vacation?” he asked.

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

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

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

“The red ones are nicer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

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

“Sorry—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

three.

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

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

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

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

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

You wrong number

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

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

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

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

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing?

You [emoji: middle finger]

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

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

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

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

Matthew :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who was?”

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

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

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

“Because I couldn’t.”

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

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

“You don’t owe me—”

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

“No smoothie diets this time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

four.

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

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

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

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

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation.

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

“Matthew,” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing, definitely need it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+ one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?”

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tired of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s…really not what I said.”

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

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

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