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troubatrain · 3 years

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want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

964 notes · View notes

namgee · 3 years

Text

cry baby | jjk (m)

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k ❥summary:

Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun

1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.

❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places, reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee @jeonsjiddies @ggukkieland

You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook.

He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit.

Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.

One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all.

A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate.

On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.

However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.

The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage.

Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in.

His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.

Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.

After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck.

Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose.

You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it.

In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends.

The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.

Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up.

FUCK.

You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.

Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank.

It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end.

Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first.

Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life.

“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan.

“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.

But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.

He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.

“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack.

“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people.

“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?”

Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before.

“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake.

But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.

Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.

You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You’re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”

No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm.

You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree.

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t give him any time to properly answer before you were sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.

“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet.

“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”

You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra.

“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.”

“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.

“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.”

You stared at her, chewing your lips.

“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away.

“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest.

One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.

“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.

“Nervous, why?”

Kyra said no talking.

“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”

You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something.

The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them.

You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.

You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.

“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips.

Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.

Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session → his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!

You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.

Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his.

It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up.

You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more.

Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room.

You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss.

It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!

Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away.

Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!”

“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much.

Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment.

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space.

The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.

“Under the sheets?”

“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet.

“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.

You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy.

“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Please touch me.”

Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat.

Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”

Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock.

He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you

Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized.

His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.

“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.

You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing.

Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick.

He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really.

You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space.

You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.

He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt.

You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock.

Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.

You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat.

“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him.

When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.

Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth.

Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes.

“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.

You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release.

You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.”

Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter.

You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours.

Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder.

Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.

But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you.

“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back. He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before?

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”

Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature.

“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths.

He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms.

“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.

While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame.

While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out.

“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.

“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen.

Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.

He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part.

You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.”

He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care.

You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other.

The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise.

The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist.

“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.

“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care).

His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.

Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.

“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.

“You wear glasses?”

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”

“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked

You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.”

You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.

“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”

Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.

“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone.

Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”

The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.”

“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.

The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year.

You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.

“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere.

“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.

“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.

You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth.

You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.”

“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.”

Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.

You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.

So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”

You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself.

But he couldn’t help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.

Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.”

You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly.

Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever.

You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming.

Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.

Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered.

He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude.

But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?”

Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.

“Will you come then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.

You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh, you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.

“I am ?,” you inquired.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.

You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.

Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.

“What offer?”

“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”

You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?

“I just thought, ya know, we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”

“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”

“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.”

You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.

You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.

You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.

You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hmm.”

“Your phone number?”

“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.

You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk.

After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings.

You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it.

Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”.

You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw….

You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.

It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.

“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride.

It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs.

You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected).

“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.

“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.

“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”

You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue.

“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.

“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”

That was the first big lie he had told you.

Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be.

Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that.

The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.

This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face.

This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good.

His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it.

There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates.

You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you.

“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.

“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”

“About what?”

“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.

“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink.

“Okay!?”

“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”

You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.

With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”

You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.

“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.

Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got.

As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier.

It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.

Ten decisive points.

Your points to give.

Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.

Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven.

Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament.

“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room.

“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective.

Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”

He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”

Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.

He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”

Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips.

Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe.

The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees.

“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air.

“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass.

Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.

No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better.

“Bend over for me darling.”

You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor.

Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.

“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed.

When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit.

While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response.

“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping.

You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny.

“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.

Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.

“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.

“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly.

“Really, Jeon?”

“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.

Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.”

You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”

While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss.

You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers.

You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.

He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.

Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.”

“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.

“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.

Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.

“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”

Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?

“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm.

You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”

When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.

He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.

“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.

The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.

Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.

“You like the way my cock feels in you?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”

Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.

You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“You.”

It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath.

Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.

You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling.

“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”

Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.

A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good” you sigh.

“Come on, look at me?”

You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck.

Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”

You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough.

Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.

“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.

“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”

With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”

You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good.

You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances.

You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary.

And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more?

“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants.

You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.

Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.

“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.

You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.”

But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.

He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately.

“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”

You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won’t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”

You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.

Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.

It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.

“That’s my cry baby.”

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #btsfanfic #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bts #jungkook fanfction #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff #namgee #I AM FINALLY DONEEEE

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demibats · 3 years

Text

rubescent. [p. parker]

summary: anon requested prompt 26 “You’ve got an eyelash on your cheek.” warnings: brief profanity, unnecessary use of italics word count: 2k+

“And that’s how you get B.”

You were blown away by Peter’s mind. How flawlessly he danced around the equations presented to you on your paper and ended up at the answer. You watched him write more than you were listening to him explain the process so you didn’t really get much written down yourself. He looked up from his paper and pressed his lips together then made a quiet popping sound with them. Brown eyes drifted from yours to your nearly blank notebook to which he chuckled at.

“Were you paying any attention to what I said?” He teased, taking your notebook to begin writing step by step notes for your own use.

A little embarrassed, you lifted your sweater-covered hands up to cover your face, letting out your own defeated laughter, “I tried but you talked so fast, it’s hard to keep up.” You lied. Peter seemed oblivious to your origin of your distracted nature and continued writing down his helpful tips.

You and Peter sat on his small bed, notebooks and textbooks heaped up around you to study for upcoming finals. He seemed so laid back compared to when you two sat a few seats away from each other in your lecture hall. He always sat so straight, his eyes glued to the blackboard, absorbing the information that was being presented. You later realized that a reason you asked him to help you study was because you spent quite a bit of time glancing in his direction to look at him rather than your professor or notes.

“Peter! Your food is here!” His aunt yelled from downstairs, making both of you flinch slightly. While Peter stood up to go retrieve the food for the two of you, you leaned over to your bag and grabbed your wallet, fishing out two twenty dollar bills for him.

“I’ll cover it. Consider it payback for helping me study.” You said with a smile, but before you could finish, Peter was shaking his head at you.

“No no, don’t worry about it, my treat.”

“No, you take the money. Seriously, Pete, I wouldn’t be armed to the teeth with knowledge for this exam if it wasn’t for you. Let me pay.” You felt your lower lip push out into a slight pout and caught yourself, brushing it off with a chuckle.

He took the cash with a huff and spun around to leave. Stubborn bastard.

You stood up from your place on his mattress and scanned his room. It was relatively clean, all except for his desk. There were a bunch of papers littered, some crumpled up and some heavily written on. He had things tacked above his desk as well, some that looked like they were from high school. Yearbook photos and academic awards, a picture of a man with glasses and a lab coat and concert tickets. A part of you longed to see who Peter was outside of an instructional setting.

In the midst of your snooping, Peter stood in the doorway, the takeout containers in his hands. He watched as you furrowed your eyebrows while reading some of his notes for a class you didn’t share and how puzzled you seemed, “So I’m guessing particle physics isn’t your forte?”

Startled, you jumped back and faced the direction of the voice. He caught you being nosy, which escalated your previous embarrassment even more. At least he wasn’t pissed off you were rummaging through his things. Most people would be.

The two of you returned to your study spot, white takeout boxes replacing your homework. The quiet wasn’t awkward at all, it was comfortable; pleasant even. While Peter had a mouthful of lo mein, you looked up from your dish and washed him scarf them down.

“Did you always want to do bioengineering?” You asked.

Peter finished chewing the remaining noodles and swallowed them down with a gulp of soda. Exhaling, he situated his body toward you more. “Not really. I kinda wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps and focus on Cross-Species Genetics but we all saw how that turned out for Dr. Connors so.. I pursued a different passion and ended up here.”

While he was enthused to discuss his career path, his tone dropped when he began talking about his father. You cringed inward and instantly regretted asking, but Peter let it roll off his back, “What about you? Organic chemistry seems a little far off from being a journalism major.”

“Science is a required class, thank you very much. And clearly I’m not very good at it or I wouldn’t be asking for help.” You twirled your noodles around your chopsticks, looking away from Peter.

He shook his head as he placed a jumbo helping of noodles and vegetables into his mouth, speaking through the food. It was unintelligible but it was still so cute.

“Come again, ace?” You asked, leaning toward him as an attempt to hear him better.

Peter brought his hand up to hover over his mouth, his contagious laughter ringing through his room, “Sorry, sorry, ahem.. I was trying to say that you’re- you’re smart, y’know? Smarter than a lot of the morons we sit with. I um- I think there are other reasons that we’re studying together, y’know?”

As he finished his sentence, his voice got quieter and he gazed down into his food, a poor way of trying to hide his blushing cheeks. If only he was looking at yours.

You cleared your throat to try to defuse the tension brewing, your thumb sliding over the side of your food carton. “And you’re smart enough to figure that out.” Your voice was nearly as quiet as his.

Slowly, he lifted his head, panning his vision up, hoping to meet your eyes. His toothy smile caught your attention the most, making you return the grin. For a split second, he squinted at you. “You’ve got an eyelash on your cheek.” He murmured, but you heard him.

Peter shifted his weight forward, bringing his hand up to your face, the pad of his thumb swiping underneath your eye in a leisurely motion. Your eyelids fluttered down as he did so, your breath hitching in your throat. The feeling of his thumb traveled down to your cheekbone, his hand cradling your face. You opened your eyes briefly, to see Peter inches away from your face.

A beat of silence passed and then you spoke finally, “Kiss me…” You whispered, searching his eyes for a sign that he wanted the same.

That’s all Peter needed before surging forward, his pinkish lips folding over yours. A chill ran down your spine as he pulled you closer, his hand never once leaving his spot holding your jaw. Your nose bumped his glasses, but neither of you paid any attention to it. Peter’s plush lips opened then settled against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you leaned more and more into his touch.

Your mind was racing, but not a single coherent thought could be made of the jumbled mess inside your head. The feeling of your heart hammering in your chest almost distracted you from Peter’s kiss and gentle caress. It felt like hours and seconds all at the same time. After Peter pulled away, you could feel yourself pouting again but made no attempt to hide it. He bit down on his lower lip before leaning in to press a brisk kiss to your lips once more.

“We should, y’know, finish up the- the homework.” He mumbled, too frazzled to think straight.

You nodded in agreement, too giddy to speak.

The rest of the study session went by rather quickly. With the tools Peter gave you, you had a bit of hopefulness in yourself as far as the exam went. You slowly packed away your belongings, wanting to spend as much time with Peter as possible.

“I appreciate the help. My arsenal of tips and tricks is full of Peter Parker’s genius now.” You stood up from his bed, holding the strap on your shoulder, smiling down at him.

You watched as Peter almost hesitantly climbed off his bed and stood before you, towering over you. Another breath got caught in your throat as you looked up into his eyes, pressing your lips together as you anticipated his next move.

He reached up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he grabbed his skateboard from the corner of his room. While you were slightly bummed he didn’t kiss you again, you figured he’d want to be home before dark so he wasn’t skating through Queens alone in the dark.

Aunt May gave a small wave from the porch as you and Peter walked, shoulder to shoulder down the sidewalk. He looked behind him briefly to see his aunt giving him a thumbs up and a sly wink. Oh brother.

“Are you gonna stay in New York once you graduate?” You asked, watching the cracks in the sidewalks as you passed each of them.

“Yeah, probably. I gotta take care of May and this place might be a shithole but it’s home.” Peter scratched the back of his neck briefly before letting his hand drop by his side, bumping into yours. He mumbled an apology, looking at his shoes.

It took every ounce of courage you possessed, but you looked down between you two and laced your fingers with Peter’s as you walked. Neither of you said anything about it, but kept discussing little things like a minor childhood memory Peter remembered after seeing something or what you wanted to do when you graduated. Once you made it to your little house a few blocks away, Peter walked you right up to the doorstep, not letting go of your hand while you stood there.

“Thanks again for tutoring me.” You gave your thanks, but even so Peter didn’t budge and neither did you. He stayed there, looking everywhere but into your eyes. His laidback nature melted away into being a flustered mess but it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

“We could always do something else, I mean, after exams. We go, y’know, or do something else, if you want.” Peter stammered, finally looking down, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You wet your lips quickly before turning to open your door. Before your hand could get to the knob, Peter had you pull flush against him, his lips finding yours. Your arms instinctively curling around his neck, drawing him in closer.

His fervent kiss caught you slightly off guard, but you welcomed it nonetheless. You didn't care if wandering eyes witnessed Peter’s display of affection on your porch, all you cared about was Peter. His hand held the small of your back, pressing you into his hard chest while your fingers found purchase in his hair, scratching his scalp gently. Before you found yourself too far gone, you pulled back, looking down between your bodies. “Text me, okay?” You whispered, peeking up through your lashes.

He nodded as he dropped his hand to his side, the other still clutching his board. His scruffiness looked even more disheveled than before due to the heated kiss, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he hopped down the steps and placed his skateboard on the concrete.

“How about I pick you and we can take the subway to campus together?” He hollered before you managed to get into your house.

You turned back toward him, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as the wind whipped them around. Nodding quickly, at a loss for words because of this damn boy. His cheeky smile was the last thing you saw before he was zipping down the street on his skateboard.

When you entered the house, you found yourself lingering against the front door for a long moment. With the back of your body pressed against it, you felt a small bump in your back pocket. You pulled off of the door and reached into your blue jeans, pulling out the two twenties you gave for Peter to pay for the takeout, folded into fours together. Cheeky bastard.

---

a/n: This was extremely fun to write! I definitely have found my groove writing for Andrew Garfield’s portrayal of Spider-man, I think he’s become my favorite Spider-man now, I still love Tom Holland though I hope this is satisfactory! Thanks to the folks who are requesting things, I’m slowly making my way through them!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #the amazing spiderman #peter parker fluff #andrew garfield #marvel oneshot #marvel #tom holland #spiderman #peter parker fic #the amazing spiderman universe

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

#childe x reader #genshin oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #genshin imagines #childe #tartagila #kaeya alberich #fanfic #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia

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slater-later · 3 years

Note

i'm not saying prompt 10 with brian kelly,, but that totally is what i'm saying... please? :)

OH YES! *cracks knuckles* I’m on this boat before it even sailed!

20/10 I really enjoyed this prompt. It was *chefs kiss* glorious. I love Brian Kelly with my whole heart. I’m rewatching the movie right now as we speak!

******

The two of you had aged. The long nights spent together, sitting together at the skate spark, munching on a bag of chips and an Arnold palmer, had shifted.

You first met at the park, the boys and him grinding some railings over a long flight of steps. You had to watch, curled up on the park bench drawing. They hadn’t noticed you at first, curled up with your legs crossed as you marked your sketchbook. Drawing the flipping skate boardings and fast motions of their legs. It was a perfect way to fit in some figure drawings practice. They were so well absorbed in their tricks and banter, they didn’t notice.

You had filled about a full page and half of their bodies, arms spread wide in the air as they balanced their board on the pipe. Grinding the worn rail with fresh marks, leaving a trail of red behind.

Brian was having some trouble making it to the end of the line. He’d get about two-thirds of the way down and lose his balance. Clamoring onto the hard concrete steps with a shout, rolling down the rest of the way. A few times, he was able to land on the steps and kept on running, kicking his feet forward to run through the momentum. And the throb at his feet. He was furiously bright red in frustration, knees buzzing in ache. He was relentless and stubborn. He wanted to finish the trick!

And slamming his skateboard on the ground wouldn’t fix it, though it did happen a few times. It got him nowhere.

He had caught wind of your eyes. Curious as he was, he ran up the hill, wanting to say hello.

“Whatcha got there?” He smirked.

“Hm?” You picked your head up, head milky from the self-absorbed high of drawing. “Oh, I was making some sketches of you guys. Is that okay?”

“Okay? Hell yeah! That sounds cool,” He laughed, gleaming. “Can I see?” He eyed your book.

“Sure,” And you spun it around, his face lighting up. He had never seen something as fun as this! He loved skateboarding but add art? Even sicker!

“God, this is amazing! You’re really good at this,” He tapped at one of your pictures, enjoying the style. You passed it to him. “I wish I could do something like this, I’m jealous.”

You laughed and he passed it back to you. You showed him another page of your drawings, “It’s not that hard, it’s practice,” You paused, showing him another. “And time, lots, and lots of time.”

“Hol’ up-” He stepped back, snapping his board to his feet. “Can you do something like this?” He pulled an olley, snapping his feet and the board into the air.

“Yeah, I think I can… Just give me a sec…” Your eyes squinted, snapping the moment into your mind and making a fast sketch. Enough to get the gesture.

He waited until you finished, sliding into the seat next to you. Patiently waiting and observing. “My god… You’re the next Picasso,” He mumbled, dumbfounded.

“Picasso wasn’t a great guy… but he was a good artist. Though, I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know,” He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. “Do you want to come down and hang out with us? You seem really fun.”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds nice,” And the two of you walked, joining the group of friends.

****

Slowly, your relationship bloomed. Friends turned to lovers and the two of you eventually moved in together. You both had properly graduated high school and you had enrolled in art school. Brian was taking a year off to work and figure out what he wanted to go to school for her. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

And it had given him time to properly grieve. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to school and work on building a happy life for himself. It’s that the weight and chaos of his last year of high school were overwhelming. He didn’t have the proper time to understand how much the weight of his brothers’ life affected him. He had thought, they would be in each other’s life forever. He still didn’t like going home when he visited his parents, the memory of Vinh lingering.

Moving in together was good for both of you. It cut your guys rent and living together was easy. He worked at a skateshop by the beach during the day while you went to classes. Taking the bus to get there. He was very supportive of your decision and had gotten your work to hang on the walls of the shop. He was proud to watch you grow. He even talked up your art and beamed when it sold.

Some nights with him rough. He’d be distraught over his brothers' death and the hole it left in his life. You’d soothe him, listening to his words and holding his hand as he cried. Pulling him close, tight.

Other days went well, you two laughing about some silly joke and the faces he’d make at you. He actually had quite the talent of doing impressions, one that you happily egged on.

One thing that you loved, was the sleepy nights in bed. Feet crossed and fished together, slipping against each other’s smooth skin. Brian was like a small radiator. He’d curl up into himself, pulling the sheets of the pillowy duvet cover around him. He’d tug at them, burrito-ing himself, exposing your feet to the cold biting air.

“Brian-” You’d wine softly, shifting closer to him as you spooned. You could tell he was sad today, he had been quiet all day.

“Yeah?” He sniffled, turning his head softly.

“Hey- are you alright?” You sat up, pulling his shoulder down against the bed. His face was red, slow tears flowing.

“Honey,” You cooed, slipping back down and wrapping your arms around his torso. Brian wrapped them around your body, pressing his burry eyes into the pillow as he sobbed. “Shhh,” You whispered, pressing your cheek into his warm chest. “What’s got you upset?”

“Vinh- again!” He choked bitterly, “I miss him. And I’m so sick of being upset! I hate this Y/N, I want it to end!” He bellowed. His body curled around you, the pressure solid. “I want… I want him back. I wish he didn’t die, I wish I told him how much I cared about him.”

You softly brushed the tears from his eyes, letting it pour out of him. You had learned that this was the time to listen. That you couldn’t change the way he felt. It was grief. “Your love for him is felt, he feels it,” Your soft lips were hushed, like a quiet prayer to his ears.

“I keep thinking if I could have done something that day- like um,” He sniffed, trying to clear his stuffy nose. “I should have convinced him to take that gig at the corner shop,” He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “But then I stole that box of pop rocks and blew it for ‘em”

“You’re blaming yourself again.”

“I know… I just, I hate that he’s gone.”

You stroked a hand through his hand.

“I’m alright, I’m…” He looked down at you, thumbing your cheek with a heavy sigh. “You know how I get. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, he’s your brother. You should be upset.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, forcing a tiny smile. Trying to peek a bit of happiness for you. He hated getting like this. He knew it hung heavy on the both of you. “Can we get some pizza? I’m hungry.”

“Of course, Bruno’s? Hawaiian with extra bacon?”

“Extra bacon!” He gleamed, bursting out with a laugh. “You’re spoiling me!” He roared, pulling you up and in for a kiss. “Thanks, Y/N,” He hushed, his tender tone creeping into his voice. His hysterics falling away. “I really appreciate you, for everything that you do. I love you,” And those lips came back, pulling you in close as your fingers slipped together for a deep kiss. “I don’t know what I’d without you, you’re my rock Y/N. Thank you,” He sniffed.

Your feet curled together, bodies relaxing as you took in the stillness of the quiet air. A siren passed, the sound drifting into your small apartment together. The two of you layed together, the hum of your warm bodies melting, the weight of each other a comforting feeling. The two of you stayed like that for some time in silence and your bodies grew sleepy. Unmoving in your quiet support for one another.

Eventually, your tummies grumbled. Gurgling with need.

“Y/N?” He whispered in your ear and you shifted, reaching for your phone.

“I got it,” And you called for the pizza. Delivery.

#brian kelly #gleaming the cube #fan fiction #christian slater #brian kelly x reader #skateboarding #fan fic #writing prompt #tyler speaks #tyler writes

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lettersinscarlet · 3 years

Text

Holidays with Bakugo (Katsuki Bakugo Imagine)

Yo yo yo, Wassup? It’s me! I’m back, finally, and honestly it’s been forever since I’ve got to write, but here I am. I’m so excited that people are liking my blog for my other fandoms, and I hope that I can start doing more things. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I might’ve gotten a little carried away, because this is long. But that’s fine. Anyway, love you guys, and I hope you enjoy this! Yes, my requests are open, just check who I write for and it might take me a while to write it!

———————————————————————

You stood outside of the classroom doors, adjusting your hair, squaring your shoulders, and lastly, putting a quick smile on your face before you walked in the door. It had been a rough couple of weeks, but you just had to make it one more day before school was let out for holiday.

Honestly, the way it happened still confused you, and it still just didn’t make sense. You’d lived with your aunt ever since you were a little kid. Your parents had gotten in an unfortunate accident, and so she’d stepped up to take care of you, and it had been that way for as long as you could remember. She was just in the kitchen, nothing out of the ordinary, when you heard her collapse to the floor from the other room. Apparently, she’d had a heart attack. Currently, she was in the hospital, but she was still in the intensive care unit, and things weren’t looking all that great. There was some type of complication the doctor’s couldn’t figure out, and she was currently hooked up to a life support machine. No one at school knew just yet, but you just had to make it one more day before you could go home and not have to worry about people feeling bad for you. It didn’t really help that it was the holiday season either.

You strode into the classroom, stopping to make some brief conversation with your friends, before you slipped into your seat. From the row in front of you, a familiar blonde looked over his shoulder as you sat down.

“You’re later than usual, dumbass. Almost thought you weren’t coming,” he muttered before turning back to the front. You stuck your tongue out, not that he could see, but then you just went back to getting your stuff ready for the day.

Since Bakugo had been in the seat in front of you from the first day, you’d eventually established a connection because you always had to ask him to move his head so you could copy down notes. At this point, he’d learned to duck a little so you could actually see, but sometimes when he wanted to annoy you, he’d be obstinate about not moving. It was aggravating, so you’d just throw a spare pen at the back of his head as your attempt to get him to move. It worked most of the time.

The day passed rather uneventfully, which was good for you. Since school was about to let out for break, it’s not like your teachers were trying to overload you with work. Most classes were pretty relaxed, or working with your quirks some of you didn’t have another plan. This worked out well for you, because it meant you didn’t have to really focus, and your mind was free to wander, most of the time drifting back to your aunt. You wondered how she was doing, if she was showing any signs of improvement, and things like that. So, when the final bell rang for the day, it surprised you and snapped you out of your thoughts.

The class soon erupted into chatter, and from what you could hear of it, everyone was talking about what they were going to do over the break. You swore you could hear Denki already planning a big snowball fight with people in the class, and it made you smile a little. You just hoped that no one would ask you what you planned to do, because you truly didn’t feel like telling anyone you’d be spending most of your time at the hospital with your aunt.

And you nearly made it out the door, before a certain green haired boy stopped you.

“(Y/N)!” he called, a bright smile on his face. You were quick to smile back, making a little conversation with him. “So, what are you doing over the break?”

Instead of sighing, you just made your smile a little wider. Sure, it was forced, but you were certain that he wouldn’t notice. “I don’t have a lot planned, but spending some time with my aunt, doing some last minute decorations, maybe even ice skating,” you answered, hoping that would be enough.

Midoriya just grinned, and he proceeded to ramble about the things he had planned. You made sure to stay engaged in the conversation, and eventually you made your way out the doors. Instantly, that sigh you were holding onto left, and you shook your head. It was only one person, which was better than it could have been, but still, it was just hard to think about. You started walking out of the school building, heading to the gate so you could go home.

“Hey, dumbass!” a familiar voice called, and you stopped in your tracks. Ah, Bakugo. You heard his heavy footsteps coming up from behind you, and you waited until he caught up with you to keep walking. “What took you so long? You know I don’t have all day,” he huffed, tilting his chin up some, taking a side glance at you.

You’d forgotten that you still had the walk home before you’d finally be isolated for a bit. How you could forget, you didn’t know, but you’d been so focused on making it through the day you’d let it slip your mind. Bakugo always walked home with you, and honestly, you couldn’t pin point exactly when. You noticed that you’d taken similar routes, and eventually, you just walked closer together until it was a habit to walk together.

You realized you hadn’t responded yet, and you quickly shook your head, going to postpone the thoughts until you got home. It was just a walk, you could last. “Oh, I was just testing to see how long you’d wait for me. Just as I predicted, you stayed like a loyal puppy,” you snickered, smirking at him. Instantly, he was indignant, attempting to huff out a response, but it was just a disgruntled noise instead. You laughed, and you both started walking again and acting like usual.

The conversation seemed pretty normal on your end, and you actually thought you were doing pretty well. What you didn’t realize is that Bakugo knew something was up before you’d officially left school grounds. He was more observant than you liked to give him credit for, at least, he could be if he tried, and he did attempt it. He noticed your responses were either delayed or distracted, and you didn’t make fun of him nearly half as much as you used to. He was even just a little hesitant to make fun of you, and he was even careful about the names he called you. He alternated between nicknames, your name, and then your full name, and none of it really seemed to get a rise out of you. His expression had turned methodical as he tried to piece this together. He knew that break was coming up, and everyone was pretty excited. Hell, even he was looking forward to some of the little traditions he had, not like he would admit it. Bakugo knew some about your situation, because you talked about your aunt a lot, so why weren’t you acting like yourself?

He made up his mind to test his theory. He waited until it had been quiet for a moment, and then he called your name. “(Y/N),” he said, his voice a bit stern. You, of course, were zoned out. You were focusing on how long until you made it to your doorstep, and it was a little bit away. Just had to make it a little further. “(Y/N),” he repeated, agitation slipping into his voice. Still, no response. “(Y/N)!” he yelled, this time reaching over and lightly pushing your arm. Not enough to make you fall, but enough for you to realize he was talking to you.

Your head snapped over to him, and then it hit you that you had not been paying attention, at least for the last five minutes. But you can’t just admit that, so instead, a look of annoyance was placed on your face. “What do you want, Boom Boy?” you snarked.

“Ah, finally. I’ve got some sort of response from you,” he huffed, his tone clearly exasperated. But hey, at least you’re back to reality now.

“Sorry, but it seems you’re just not interesting enough for me today,” you shrugged, just trying to play it off. Honestly, you felt a little bad, but you couldn’t just say that, not when you’ve got so much going on at the moment.

He stopped for a second, just looking you over. Almost like he was analyzing you. You stopped as well, sighing before you turned to look at him. “That’s bullshit,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was more aggravated than angry, but you could still tell that this was bothering him.

“That’s the-“

“It’s bullshit! You’ve been like this all day, so I know it’s not just me. In second period, Pikachu nearly choked on a piece of gum, and you didn’t even seem phased. You barely ate lunch, you haven’t talked to anyone unless it was necessary. You were actually quiet all day, and it was weird. So no, I’m not believing your shitty excuses, so are you going to tell me what’s actually wrong, or are we going to stand here all day?” he finished, glaring at you.

It was an intense standoff, him just waiting for your reaction, and you trying to process how he’d noticed all that. You thought he was just making this up, but the more you thought about it, it seemed like he really had been paying attention.

“So Kaminari almost choked on his gum?” you finally asked, crossing your fingers and hoping you could get out of this. “Sounds like something he does every other day,” you said, adding a little laugh at the end of it. But by the look on his face, you could tell he was not amused. You sighed, a hand going up to mess with your hair, breaking the eye contact. “Can we just not talk about it? It’s no big deal,” you lied, just wanting him to drop the subject.

“So you finally admit that there’s something,” he huffed, a little satisfied that his conclusion had been correct, but he wasn’t willing to just let it go that easily. Because he’s stubborn like that. “Come on. If it’s enough to keep you preoccupied and zoned out for a whole day, clearly it is a big deal,” he argued. He noticed you wouldn’t look at him, and that peeved him, but he’s working with one thing at a time here.

“Bakugo, it’s nothing,” you insisted, forcing your eyes to meet his intense gaze, but you knew they would betray you. Besides, the way he was staring you down, it was like he could see right into your soul. Honestly, it was a little scary.

“No, no it’s not,” he shot back. “Listen, you can lie to that damn nerd, you can lie to shitty hair, but you can’t lie to me,” he said, taking just a step closer. “So just cut the shit and tell me what’s going on so we can fix it.” He started going off, his voice getting increasingly louder as he talked.

This onslaught of words was making your resolve crumble, and it wasn’t too long before you snapped. “It’s my aunt, okay?” you shouted, effectively silencing him. “She’s in the hospital, and she’s not doing great,” you admitted, your voice shaking just slightly as you talked, but you were going to force yourself to finish this. “It happened a week or so ago, and she’s there now. So I’m just trying to get home, because I’m by myself, so that I can go see her,” you finished, your eyes not once leaving his. “Alright. So can we go now?” you asked, not ready to move until he was.

Oh. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that, and it was evident on his face. It took him a moment, but he just nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to walk.

It was dead silent between the two of you, your anger slowly melting to just being upset, and you ducked your head to focus on the concrete and the lines in the sidewalk.

“What time are you going to see her?” he asked, his voice quiet, all traces of his earlier ranting gone.

“What?”

“Your aunt,” he clarified, his tone a bit louder, but you could tell he was trying to be gentle. “What time do you think you’ll go and see her?”

“Oh,” you replied, realizing you hadn’t really thought about that. “I’ll have to check visiting hours, but I’d like to be there as early as possible. And I guess I’ll stay for a few hours, but then I have to come home and make sure everything’s in order,” you answered, trailing off towards the end of it as you rambled. Bakugo just nodded, and he went back to being quiet.

Finally, after what felt like the longest walk home of your life, your doorstep appeared in the distance. Instantly, your body felt relief and wanted to just go in and collapse on the couch. Or the nearest surface, really. Bakugo still remained pretty quiet, right until you got to the front door. He stood there for a second, and you watched, wondering when he was going to leave. He was usually gone by now, and honestly, you just wanted to go inside.

“What time will you be up tomorrow?” he finally spoke up, his eyes focused on a particular spot on your front step. Your brow furrowed, and at the moment of silence, he glanced up, wondering if you’d even heard him.

“I’ll be up at six,” you answered him slowly, the question seeming weird to you. He nodded, and he seemed satisfied. He waved, and then he went down the road. You watched him disappear out of eyesight, and then you unlocked your door, going in and literally flopping on the couch. You’d made it! You let out a sigh, just letting your body be absorbed into the couch, and you slowly fell asleep.

The next morning, your alarm went off, and you sat up, rubbing at your face and starting the waking up process. You got ready, going and brushing your teeth, changing into jeans and then a shirt and jacket, throwing on a hoodie. You didn’t need to look good, just presentable, and you wanted to be quick. You fixed your hair just enough so it didn’t look like you’d rolled out of bed, and then you went to put on your shoes. You were finally ready to go, grabbing your things and your keys, before going outside and waking down.

Waiting further down the sidewalk, there was a familiar head of blonde hair, and you squinted to make sure you were seeing this correctly. You walked up, noticing that this was in fact Katsuki Bakugo, waiting for you at the end of the sidewalk.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, coming to a stop by his side. He looked up when you did, scowling just a little bit.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m coming with you,” he said, his hands in his pockets. You were just confused, because this didn’t make a lot of sense to you.

“Why would you do that?” you asked. You knew he probably had better things to do, so why would he come with you? Just to sit in a room and wait. For hours.

He made a “tch” noise, kicking at the ground. “You don’t need to be by yourself,” he muttered, and you knew damn well he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

“Alright,” you replied slowly, taking a careful look at him. “We have to walk to the subway to ride to the hospital,” you told him. “We’ll probably be there for awhile,” you added.

“I know that, dumbass,” he responded, looking back at you instead of the ground. “If we stand here much longer, you won’t be there as early,” he added, already starting to walk. You were a little stunned, but you followed behind him, catching up after a moment. “Oh, and here,” he grumbled, handing you a brown paper bag. You grabbed it, going and peaking inside the bag. There was one of those mini bottles of water, and a few various snacks. “I figured you might forget to eat, and that’s not good,” he added, returning both of his hands to his pockets.

“You’re right, I did,” you laughed quietly. “Thank you,” you told him, already reaching for the snack that appealed to you most in the bag. He grumbled some sort of response, his face had a light dusting of pink on it, but that could’ve just been from the cold. As you guys walked to the station, you made some regular conversation, and Bakugo was surprisingly quiet. He wasn’t nearly as loud as usual, and he only called you a name once- and he almost apologized for it. It was strange. The ride to the hospital was relatively quiet, too, aside from the times Bakugo would growl when someone got a little too close. It made you laugh some, but the other people were certainly scared.

When you got off, the station was crowded, filled with the sounds of people hurrying to the places they needed to be, loudly talking on phones, people laughing, and some faint Christmas music coming from the speakers. As you stepped onto the platform, it felt like you were surrounded by people, and you started looking at the signs telling you different stairwells and things.

Bakugo stepped off next to you, his head up as he looked for the signs. “Where do we need to go?” he asked, raising his voice enough for you to hear him over the crowds.

“I think it’s... that one,” you said, gesturing to a bigger sign that was a little bit away from the two of you. You tried to move forward, but there was a lot of people, and you hesitated, just trying to see if you could walk through without getting trampled.

Bakugo looked over at you, shaking his head with a little huff. “Come on, dumbass, we don’t have all day,” he grunted, and he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him. Clearly, Bakugo didn’t care that there were other people, and he was sure that they’d move out of his way before he moved out of theirs. His hand was warm as it held yours, and the contact startled you, and you ended up tripping a little behind him. You regained your footing after a second, stepping close behind him as he pulled you towards the sign, guiding you out.

When you guys made it out of the station, you walked a little more, and you had to tell him which ways to turn. After a bit, he realized that he was still holding your hand, and he cleared his throat, letting go and quickly shoving his hand in his pocket. Your hand was not cold, but you gently put it in your pocket, playing it way more cool than Bakugo was. You could’ve sworn his face was more red than before, but you weren’t going to push it.

Eventually, the two of you made it to the hospital, and that’s when you got quiet. Honestly, you were nervous to go in here. You didn’t know what it would be like, if it would be like the other days when you got no new updates, or if something bad would happen, or if something good would happen. Or if it would just be that painful waiting, and the anticipation was creating knots in your stomach. Instead of dealing with that, you turned to Bakugo, taking a breath and giving him a little smile. “Thanks for walking with me today. I might be here for awhile, so you can go home,” you offered, giving him a small smile.

He stood there for a second, and then he shook his head. “I don’t have anything better to do. Besides, what’s going to happen if you can’t have a big bad body guard get you through the station?” he snickered, giving you one of those little smirks.

It was enough to get you to relax a little, and you sighed, rolling your eyes some. “Whatever you say, Boom Boy, just don’t get mad if we’re here for a few hours,” you warned, turning to go into the hospital.

“I am not Boom Boy!” he snapped, but you couldn’t see the little smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, I mean Lord Explosion Murder,” you teased, walking into the building. You just decided to not hear his reply.

You waited in the hospital for hours, the two of you sitting in the waiting room. Neither of you said much, and he could tell that you were deep in thought. You still had those lingering thoughts and questions, and you kept shifting in your seat every few minutes. You let out a sigh, turning so that you were facing Bakugo, rubbing the back of your neck some. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen today,” you admitted, feeling a little bit defeated.

Bakugo glanced over from whatever he’d been looking at, his eyes settling on yours. “Does that mean you’re ready to go? We can stay here for another hour if you want,” he said, and you could see he was actually being sincere.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just go,” you sighed, moving so that you could stand up. He stood up with you, just going to follow you out, walking back to the station.

After you’d made it a little bit away from the hospital, Bakugo cleared his throat, looking at you before staring back at the sidewalk. “Shitty hair told me that him and a few of those other extras are getting together to go to the park, probably to play in the snow or something,” he started. “You can go, if you want. Besides, it’s become boring getting to beat all those losers over and over,” he added, chuckling a little at the end, an arrogant smile coming to his face.

You sat there for a moment, processing the offer. Honestly, you were just surprised. Why was he being so nice to you? It wasn’t really like him. Sure, he’d let you copy his notes before on days you missed or answer a question or two if you didn’t get it the first time, but nothing like this. You shook your head, just hoping it would go away, and you looked over to Bakugo. “Sure, I’d love to go. Just hopefully you don’t cry when I pelt you with a snowball,” you snickered. His face dropped, and he instantly started yelling about how that wasn’t true as you laughed. “Alright alright, don’t blow a fuse,” you chuckled, your smile easing away after a moment. “But there is something I want to know,” you said, gauging his reaction. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He froze up for just a second, faltering for a brief moment, before he grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are you talking about, idiot? I’m always like this,” he grumbled, refusing to meet your eyes.

“No, no, because I bet if I told anyone else in class 1-A, they’d-“

“Shut up!” he interrupted, the ends of his ears going slightly red. You stared at him expectantly, and when he caught your eyes, he just sighed. “Listen, I just know- erm- well, you’re-“ he shook his head, gritting his teeth. Figured he might as well just get this out before he couldn’t say anything. “I just didn’t want you to be by yourself!” he blurted, his face flushing as he quickly looked to the concrete below. “I know your aunt means a lot to you because you talk about her all the time, and then hearing about it, I just... didn’t want you to be alone,” he finished, his voice trailing off to be barely a whisper at the end.

You were a bit in shock at the answer, your eyes widening as you took it in. Wow. You were trying to think of something to say, and your voice was quiet, too. “Thank you,” you whispered, not looking at him, either. “It really means a lot to me.”

Neither of you could tell, but you were both blushing as you looked at anywhere but each other. “Whatever, don’t mention it,” he muttered, grabbing his phone. “He says that they’re on their way to the park. Should I say we’re coming now, too?” he asked, risking just a quick glance over to you before staring back at his phone screen.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you answered, clearing your throat a little to make your voice go back to normal. “Can’t wait to get there and win at whatever we’re playing,” you added, mocking some of his arrogance from earlier.

“In your dreams,” he shot back, and he was grinning at his phone as he sent the text.

Going to the park that day was honestly a lot of fun, definitely more fun than you’d expected to have. You and Bakugo had to call your snowball fight a draw, otherwise someone was really about to get injured. You ended up helping turn Denki into a snowman, and you’d laughed as Kirishima used his quirk to sled down a hill at top speed. It had been an amazing day, filled with little moments you’d remember forever.

Bakugo really had meant what he said when he answered your question, because he made sure that you were almost never alone. Some days, he would walk with you to the hospital, and afterwards the two of you would go into the city and walk around, or go see lights somewhere, just doing fun activities. Other days, you would go to the hospital by yourself, but when you came home, Bakugo was always there waiting, most of the time with a few other friends, and you guys would do activities, typically outdoors. Let’s just say you had more than one snowball fight, and at one point, you had to go buy your own sled so you could race as well. You even went ice skating, and that was one of the most chaotic outings you’d ever been on, but it always made you smile. When he wouldn’t go with you, Bakugo would always wait until you had a moment by yourselves to ask if you’d gotten any updates, and he would wish you luck for the next trip. The one thing that never changed was that he was always the one to walk you home whenever it was time you to head back.

Tonight was no exception, even if it was Christmas Eve. You and Bakugo had been laughing, him teasing you a little bit about how your snow fortress had crumbled, and you telling him that it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have a master’s degree in snow architecture. Your doorstep was soon approaching, and Bakugo walked with you to your front door, watching you grab your key and start to unlock the door.

“You know what tomorrow is, right?” he asked, leaning up against the wall and looking at his feet.

“No, no I don’t,” you deadpanned, but then you looked at him and gave him a smirk, and he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, dumbass,” he muttered, shaking his head. But he had a point, and he wasn’t going to let you distract him from it that easily. “It’s Christmas, which means that I won’t be able to hang out tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little softer.

Your heart sank a little as the realization hit. Honestly, you’d looked forward to all the days he’d come to hang out with you, because it was just extra fun. They always made you smile, and you had forgotten that he’d probably be with his family tomorrow.

“Oh. Well, you didn’t have to just tell me that, you could’ve just texted,” you muttered, going to open the door.

“(Y/N), you didn’t let me finish,” he said, looking up from his feet to see your face. You stopped, because wow, he actually used your name? Must be serious. “I can’t hang out tomorrow afternoon, but if you want... you can come have dinner with me. And my family,” he offered, quickly adding in the last bit. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you met his eyes, seeing how he seemed a little bit anxious. “Of course, that’s only if you want to, and you know the old hag would-“

“I would love to,” you interrupted, a smile quickly forming on your face. You saw he was caught off guard, and it made you smile just a little more. It took him a moment, but he realized you’d actually said yes, and then he could continue.

“O-okay, I can come by to pick you up at six, but who knows if the food will actually be ready by the time we get there,” he said, laughing a little at the end. “And... don’t wear anything too special, it’s just food,” he said, and you took a mental note of that.

“Alright. So you’ll be here at six? I’ll be ready by then,” you assured him.

He grumbled something, his face turning a little bit more pink, but he nodded. “Goodnight, (Y/N),” he said.

“Goodnight, Bakugo,” you replied, grinning as you walked in your house, and immediately started thinking about the next day.

The next morning, you woke up a little extra early, and the first thing you did was go to see your aunt. Today, you planned to stay here for a while, considering you didn’t have anything coming until six. While you waited, your mind was focused on the issue of what you were going to wear, and the more you thought about going, the more your heart began to race.

You had been spending a lot of time with Bakugo, a lot more than usual. It really wasn’t bad, and you had found yourself really enjoying hanging out with him. When he wanted to be, he was sweet. It was also very cute to see him get flustered, just now his face and ears would get all red...

You shook your head, because now certainly wasn’t the time to think about that. You just needed to figure out what you were actually going to wear. There was no need to dress like this was for the red carpet, but would jeans and a t-shirt be enough? Jeans and a nice shirt? Boots? No boots? Would a scarf be cute? Clothes are frustrating to pick out, and you wanted to make sure that your outfit was right.

You left the hospital hours later, and eventually the little thoughts in your mind slowly making a small ball of anxiety settle in your chest. You really just didn’t want to mess tonight up, because it seemed important. All those little what if’s floated around in your head, creating the worst scenarios and things as you walked into the door to your house. Now it was time to get serious about finding clothes.

It took awhile, and you could see it getting darker outside as you finally settled on what you were going to wear. It somehow was the perfect middle between comfortable and fancy, and you were satisfied with how it looked. You fixed your hair, adding any finishing touches you wanted, and you looked yourself over in the mirror. Perfect. When you went to check the clock, you realized that it was pretty close to time for Bakugo to come pick you up. Your heart raced at the thought, and you took a breath to still yourself. Why were you so worked up? It’s just food. With his family. And him. And it’s a really sweet gesture, and he’s-

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts, and then double checking your hair to see if you’d messed it up. No need to overthink things, just relax.

Exactly on time, you heard a knock on your door. It was quick and seemingly impatient, and you grinned a little. Of course that was him. You walked to the door, reaching for you coat and shrugging it on before you opened the door. Bakugo was standing there, and he was fidgeting with his fingers some, but he looked up at you, and for just a fleeting moment there was a quick smile on his face. But he realized what he was doing and he cleared his throat, his eyes quickly flicking over you. “It’s a good thing you’re ready. I thought you might be one of those people that take hours and you were going to be late,” he grumbled.

“Hello to you, too,” you laughed. “Me? Never.” You were electing to ignore the fact that it took forever to actually decide what to wear, because he didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, a hint of a smirk coming to his face. “You ready to go?”

You nodded, stepping outside and locking the door behind you after you’d gotten all your things.

“Thanks for inviting me, by the way,” you started, looking at your hands as you began to walk with him towards his house. “I hope your parents don’t mind that I’m sort of crashing,” you trailed off, feeling a little nervous at that. Granted, this was the first time you were really going to his house, different than just dropping off homework or notes when he’d missed things, and you didn’t want to make a bad impression but intruding on their holiday activities.

He tsked, rolling his eyes at your worries. “I already asked the hag, she said it’s fine. Then she said a lot of other stuff I don’t care to remember,” he added, scoffing at the end. You just laughed, shaking your head.

“I mean, I know, but you know I just don’t want them to feel weird because I’m intruding-“ you started rambling, muttering slightly to yourself.

Bakugo had enough, and his eyes flashed a bit brighter when he looked at you. “Shut up, will ya? Starting to sound like that damn nerd,” he shouted. “Don’t worry about it. I promise, they’re not upset you’re going to be here,” he reassured you, and for some reason, his cheeks flushed a bit pink. “Relax,” he muttered, shaking his head some and going down a road.

After that, the rest of the walk was nice. You took his advice, and you tried to calm your nerves. The conversation helped, and you’d tripped a few times from how hard you’d laughed, Bakugo nearly having to catch you, but you were fine. The smile on your face was easy and bright, and Bakugo couldn’t help but stare sometimes. When he would catch himself, he’d quickly glare at anything but you, changing the subject to something else to talk about.

Soon enough, the two of you were in front of Bakugo’s door, and he stopped before he opened it. “Um, so this is my house,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck some.

“Who needs to relax now?” you joked, nudging him a little. He grumbled something at you, and you rolled your eyes. “Are you planning on letting me in? It’s a little cold out here,” you chuckled.

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear, and went to open the door. Instantly, you felt the warm air coming from inside, and you quickly went in, standing in the doorway. You could smell the food, and it put a little smile on your face. It just smelled like Christmas in here, or whatever that was supposed to mean, but it made sense to you in that moment.

You realized Bakugo was just staring at you standing there, and you laughed. You went and took off your coat, going and hanging it on one of the hooks. Bakugo took a second and looked you over, and his face turned red yet again, damn it. He looked away, going and walking in a direction, just expecting you to follow him, which you did.

He was giving a small tour, eventually leading you to the back towards the kitchen and the dining room. When you got there, his mom was cooking in the kitchen, and his dad was seated at the table. They both looked up when they heard the two of you talking, and his mom smiled over at you.

“You must be (Y/N)!” she exclaimed, going over to see you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Katsuki talks about you-“

“Shut up!” he interrupted, his face just the slightest bit pink. His mom laughed, ruffling his hair a bit and he grimaced.

“Aw, is Katsuki embarrassed?” she cooed, laughing a little. “Anyway, please, call me Mitsuki,” she chuckled, turning back to you.

It was a little strange for you to see Bakugo like this, and it made you smile. You tried not to laugh too much, but you shot him a look letting him know that you weren’t going to let this go any time soon. But you looked back to Mitsuki, grinning. “Nice to meet you, Mitsuki,” you returned, and she chuckled.

“The food will be ready in just a few minutes, so you can go sit down at the table, or Katsuki can show you around some more,” she suggested, turning back to finish up what she was cooking at the moment.

You turned to Bakugo, smirking just a little. “Does that mean I get to see your room?” you asked, your voice a sing-song tone, and you watched him go red again. This man couldn’t catch a break.

“Nope, not doing that,” he answered, steering you in the direction of the table, where his dad was. You smiled in greeting, offering him a small wave.

“So you’re (Y/N),” he mused, laughing after and giving you a warm smile. “You can call me Masaru, and it’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself, and you nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you replied, and then you went to take your seat. You sat next to Bakugo, messing with your hands in your lap some. “I want to thank you guys for having me. It... means a lot, and sorry that I’m sort of crashing,” you said, chuckling nervously.

Mitsuki could be heard from the kitchen, and you turned to see her. “That’s alright, we’re glad to have you! Katsuki doesn’t really invite a lot of friends over,” she said, emphasizing the word friends just a touch.

“You really aren’t crashing anything at all,” Masaru added, giving you a gentle smile.

You let out a small breath of relief, a smile of your own stretching across your face. It was good to know that they didn’t seem to hate you and that they seemed to genuinely want you here, and it helped you relax just a touch.

“Told ya,” Bakugo muttered under his breath, and you laughed softly. So maybe he was right.

Mitsuki then came out of the kitchen, bringing out the things she had made for dinner. It smelled really good, and it made a small smile come across your face. Food is a good way to make anyone happy, really. She sat down and everyone started eating, and it was just a little awkward at first. You didn’t really know what to say, and there were a lot of questions about school and the different things that were coming up, tests and whatever. After a little while, you eased into the conversation, the awkwardness going away as you warmed up to the conversation.

You spent hours there, longer than you’d really imagined you would. You’d laughed a lot, and that smile had started to ache on your face. Time had slipped by, and when you happened to glance outside, you realized it was way darker than when you’d first gotten there. Mitsuki seemed to notice, too, because she turned to look at the two of you. “It’s getting pretty late. Katsuki, why don’t you take your friend home?” she suggested. Bakugo grumbled some sort of response, and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“You’re already home, I’ve got no problem walking myself back,” you suggested, trying not to be more tough me that it already felt like you were.

His face suddenly turned indignant, glaring at you. “What? No! I’ll walk you home,” he stated. He took a second, glancing off to the side before he added, “I always do.” It was your turn to blush slightly, and you heard Masaru chuckle from beside you.

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll be heading home then,” you determined, going to stand up from the table. “Thank you for having me over tonight. It’s been a lot of fun, and it really means a lot to me,” you said, beginning to walk back to the door. Bakugo was following behind you, and it looked like he was having a quick conversation with his mom, surprisingly none of it was yelling.

“It was a pleasure having you for dinner, and I hope that we can see more of you eventually,” Masaru said, giving you a soft smile.

“Yes, please! We’ll have to have you back for dinner some other time,” Mitsuki chimed in. You nodded in agreement, laughing a little. You grabbed your coat from the hook, shrugging it back on, and Bakugo did the same. You waved goodbye to his family, and then you were back outside. It was definitely colder out here than inside, and you pulled your coat tighter around you. You started walking back to your house, and a smile grew on your face.

“That was one of the best dinners I’ve had in forever,” you said, grinning over at him. “Seriously, thank you for inviting me over. Whatever I had planned, it wouldn’t have been as good as this was.”

He was trying his best to be his grumpy self, but when you smiled at him like that, it was just damn near impossible. He gave you just a brief, small smile of his own, quickly averting his gaze after. “Like I said before, it just wasn’t fair that you should have to be by yourself. But I’m glad you liked it,” he replied, his voice staying at an actual conversational tone. It was strange, but nice.

The walk back to your house was an enjoyable, and you both ended up laughing, probably loud enough to make the people you walked past annoyed, but neither of you minded. It was just the two of you hanging out together, just like it seemed to always be.

Soon enough, the both of you had arrived at your house, and he’d actually walked with you to your door tonight. He’d just said something to make you laugh, and it made it a little harder to get the key in the door lock. You had just turned to tell him goodnight, but he said something before you could.

“So, I was out the other day, and I just saw something, and I thought you might like it,” he mumbled, reaching in his pocket. “Or you might not, I don’t really know. Do what you want with it,” he grumbled after. He pulled out a thin, square box, one that fit in his hand, and he handed it to you. “Merry Christmas.”

You took the box from him, going to pull the lid off. Inside, there was a bracelet. It was made of beads that were your favorite color. Maybe it was a coincidence, but a small part of you thought that maybe he’d remembered when you mentioned it. On the bracelet, there were two small charms. One of them was in the shape of a bomb, with a little spark at the end of the fuse. The other was a little explosion, the orange and red looking like a small firework.

Your heart melted a little, and you gently took it out of the box, sliding it on your wrist. “Aw, Bakugo! I love it,” you grinned, looking at the little charms one more time before you looked back to him. Clearly, it meant something to him, as you could see the faint red dusting of a blush across his face. You laughed softly, hiding your smile as best you could. “Oh! But I didn’t get you anything,” you mumbled, the gears turning in your brain as you thought about it.

“You didn’t have to it was just something I saw-“

But before he could really finish his sentence, you’d walked over, closing the bit of space between you. You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, hovering there for just a moment afterwards.

“Guess you’ll have to try for the real thing on New Year’s, boom boy,” you whispered, smiling a little before you walked back. “Anyway, goodnight, Katsuki,” you said, putting some emphasis on his name. You unlocked your door, stepping inside, and you quickly turned back to him. “See you tomorrow?”

Bakugo was still standing there, looking like he’d malfunctioned. His face was terribly red, his eyes just wide as he stared at the spot you used to be. It took him a moment to even realize you’d asked him a question, and his head looked in your direction. “Y-yeah,” he answered.

You laughed, giving him just one more smile before you shut your door. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you’d just done that, but you couldn’t say that you really regretted it. Actually, you were looking forward to another time you could have an excuse to do it again.

It was a good minute or two before Bakugo even moved from your doorstep, his hand gently pressing the place you’d left a kiss. His mind kept replaying the little scene for him, just remembering every little detail about it. Hell, he didn’t even seem to mind you called him boom boy. Even the way you’d said his actual name, it wasn’t bad. He’d eventually left your doorstep, starting to walk home to his house. Guess he would have to see at New Year’s if he could get the real deal, and the thought brought a smile to his face.

———————————————————————

Bonus: Kaminari, Sero, Denki, and Mina were camped out in the bushes near your place. Of course, they’d started to put two and two together. By they, I mean Kirishima and Sero. They’d noticed a few things, and they had told Sero and Kaminari, and now here they were.

“They haven’t shown up in awhile. Maybe we were wrong?” Mina said, looking in either direction, trying to find you and Bakugo.

“No, we weren’t wrong,” Kirishima reassured her. “I texted Bakugo about an hour ago about being better than him, and he didn’t even respond. I sent (Y/N) something, and she usually answers. He’s definitely with her now,” he explained. Just as he said that, the two of you had rounded the corner.

“That’s them! Shhh,” Sero whispered, and the four of them crouched down further into the bushes, their eyes on the both of you.

Not that any of them could really hear what you were saying, but they could see perfectly well what was happening.

“So that’s what he was asking me about,” Sero murmured, seeing the box be pulled from his pocket.

When you kissed Bakugo’s cheek, the bushes nearly erupted with noise, but they were forcing themselves to be quiet. Kirishima had nudged Sero, nearly making him fall over, and Mina and Denki had been excitedly slapping each other.

“This ship has sailed!” Denki cheered quietly, making Mina laugh but causing Kirishima to gently shush him.

After you’d closed the door, the four of them had started talking, exchanging money about certain bets they’d had, and making a few more bets and speculations about what would happen.

As Bakugo tried to walk by, he’d heard some strange sounds coming from the bushes. Hands already positioned at the ready, making small little explosions, he crept over to the bushes and looked over. The little group froze when they saw Bakugo’s face appear over the edge. There was a small moment of silence in which no one moved or said a word.

“What are you doing here?” Bakugo asked, his voice gruff and getting a little bit louder as he went along.

“Hey, Bakubro! We were just-“

“RUN!” Denki screamed, scrambling and sprinting away from Bakugo as he could. The others were quick to follow, rubbing as fast as possible from the boy growing increasingly louder as the explosions got bigger.

“You damn extras!” he roared, hopping over the bushes and chasing after them, determined that he would catch up to them and make sure they would forget whatever they did or didn’t see.

#katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #bakugo fic #bakugo fanfic #bakugo fanfiction #bakugo imagine #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugo fanfic #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #mha #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 2, Episode 3: Ice Pick

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic!Reader

Notes: okay we finally have some ✨relationship development✨ and I hope you’re as excited as I am :-)

Tag list: @that-winged-rat @trustfundparker @rainbow-unicorn69 @good-vibes-and-glitter @x-give-em-hell-kid-x @prevostsasha @bobo-bush

————————

“I’m telling you, it was like a-a big...lizard or something.”

I blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the words she was saying through the buzzing of the cafeteria. Allison’s eyes widened, as if only then realizing how crazy that sounded. She quickly diverted her attention to Scott, who sat beside her, and bumped her shoulder into his.

He cleared his throat, glancing around the table and squirming nervously in his chair. “Yeah, it was weird. I didn’t get a good look at it...”

“Well, what did you see?” Stiles huffed, shifting forward in his seat to lean over the table as if that would help him hear better.

The two of them had spent almost the entire lunch period trying to explain something they encountered in Isaac’s house the other night. They honestly weren’t making much sense, but they both seemed utterly freaked out, which wasn’t helping to calm my nerves.

“I-I don’t know.” Scott shook his head with a troubled furrow of his brows. “It was fast. Really fast. It walked on the ceiling, and it was...hissing at us.”

“So there’s yet another supernatural monster in Beacon Hills. Awesome.” I slouched back into my seat, a feeling of defeat washing over me. We’d barely just come out of our troubles with Peter and Kate. The last thing we needed was a new threat to deal with already.

“I’m not sure it’s bad, though. It just ran away when I got upstairs.” Scott tried to reason, his overactive conscience striking again. He always tried to see the good in everyone. Even a lizard monster, apparently.

“Yeah right.” Allison scoffed, picking at the food she had yet to start eating. “Who knows what it would’ve done to me if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Okay. First, we need to start by...” Stiles voice slowly trailed off as his attention locked onto something across the cafeteria.

His jaw went slack, his eyes widening in wonder. A frown pulled at my lips as I let my gaze sweep toward whatever had him so transfixed. Scott and Allison turned around in their seats to see for themselves as the entire room went silent.

There was a girl, only vaguely familiar, strutting confidently into the room. I quirked an eyebrow curiously as everyone craned their necks to watch her slow entrance. My eyes shifted to Scott, an amused chuckle bubbling in my chest as I saw that he had the same awestruck expression on his face.

“Is that Erica?” Allison’s voice rose in surprise as she spun back around to face me, her eyes wide.

“Didn’t she have a seizure in the middle of your gym class yesterday?” I recognized the name from this week’s rumor mill. With a closer look, I could tell that it was, in fact, Erica. Scott whipped around to glare at me and my brows rose in question. “What? It’s not like she can hear me.”

“I’m not too sure about that...” He muttered, his gaze sweeping back toward her as she grabbed an apple off a random guy’s tray and took a bite.

She’d had a complete transformation overnight. The grey, sickly quality to her skin was gone, replaced by a healthy glow. Her dark circles had vanished and she walked with a self-assurance I’d never seen in her before. She usually did her best to remain unseen, ducking through the halls with her head down. Now, she was parading with an almost arrogant smirk on her face.

“She’s with Derek now, isn’t she? Like Isaac?” Allison’s lips pulled into a frown as she easily put the pieces together. It was the only explanation for her extraordinary overnight changes. He must’ve turned her.

Scott glanced at the tray of food in front of him, swallowing thickly as he avoided her prying gaze. I glanced toward Stiles, who just looked back at me with a sheepish shrug.

“You can’t get caught in the middle of this.” Allison continued, her voice a quiet plea. “Don’t you feel what’s happening? My grandfather coming here? Derek turning Erica and Isaac? It-it’s like battle lines are being drawn.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as my eyes flickered between them. She was one hundred percent right, and it was terrifying. It was almost impossible to predict what her family was up to, since they don’t tell her anything and my visions are completely worthless. The one glaringly obvious thing, though, was that something big was coming.

“I know.” Scott sighed, finally catching her gaze with a worried expression of his own.

“There’s always crossfire...” Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him, silently pleading with him to take a step back.

His jaw ticked a few times, his brows pinching as he looked down to the table again. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just stand by. I can’t pretend to be normal.”

My lips pulled into a frown, unsure why he felt the need to interfere with every supernatural problem in Beacon Hills. For some reason, he felt personally responsible for making sure that nothing catastrophic happens around here. There were so many other people better equipped for the job. The Argents, who’ve trained for centuries to hunt anything that “hunts them” and Derek, who’s been a werewolf since birth, to name a few.

“I don’t want you to be normal.” Allison huffed, seemingly offended that he’d assume that’s what she meant.

She stood abruptly, taking her still full tray with her. She made it a single step before turning back with a sigh. Her eyes met Scott’s, wide and shining with so many intense emotions. It was clear that she was scared, and nervous, and even a little angry. She left just a few parting words before spinning on her heel and stalking away from us.

“I want you to be alive.”

———————

I let out a tired sigh, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I walked down the hall. It was just after the dismissal bell, and I still needed to grab my chemistry book from my locker.

I’d nearly made it all the way outside, where Stiles was waiting to drive everyone to an ice skating rink—which he apparently got the keys to by paying off our classmate, Boyd, who works there—before realizing I’d forgotten it. The date had been Scott’s idea, because, and I quote, we all spend way too much time on supernatural bullshit and haven’t done anything fun in forever.

The halls were mostly empty, since the rational portion of my classmates always book it out of here the second the bell rings. All was normal until I passed by one of the janitors closets and the door sprang open unexpectedly. I staggered back in alarm, my entire body stiffening as a hand jutted out and clasped around my bicep.

I was swiftly hauled inside, the door slamming the second I passed through the threshold. My breath caught in my throat as I jerked my arm free and scrambled away from whoever had grabbed me. I winced as my back rammed into a wooden shelf, my chest tightening with anxiety as I glanced around the dimly lit room quickly.

A moment later, I sighed out a long breath of relief as my eyes focused on my attacker standing a few feet away. “Fuck, Stiles. What the hell are you doing?” I gasped out, putting a hand on my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

His lips twitched into a sheepish smile, one of his eyes squinting shut as he scratched at the side of his head. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“What were you trying to do?” Of all the ways he could’ve gotten my attention, that was the most unnecessary. I crossed my arms as my heartrate slowly dropped back to normal.

His gave me a small smile as he took a couple slow steps forward, coming to a stop once there were only a few inches left between us. One of his hands came up to push a stray clump of hair behind my ear, his honey eyes dancing around my face quickly.

“I haven’t had a minute alone with my girlfriend in days.” He murmured lowly, his head dipping down as the hand that was now tangled in my hair guided me toward him.

Despite being the one to initiate the kiss, he was still hesitant as we inched closer together. Our noses brushed in a feather light touch, his fingers twitching against the back of my head as if he wanted to do more but was afraid to. I leaned up to brush my lips against his just once before pulling back.

“Well you’ve got me...so now what?” I couldn’t help but grin, my voice a low whisper as I teased him.

It’d honestly been eating at me all week, so it was reassuring that our time apart had bothered him too. Everyone was so focused on figuring out what the hell Allison and Scott ran into at Isaac’s, that he and I hadn’t had any time to ourselves.

It was way too easy to get sucked into the supernatural world and all of it’s problems. That’s why we were all going ice skating tonight. To try our hand at being normal teenagers for once.

Stiles’ eyes darkened to that warm chocolate color I’d only ever gotten a glimpse of in these more intimate situations. His free hand slid around my waist, his palm resting against the small of my back as he pulled me into his chest. His lips brushed against mine gently and I returned the kiss immediately, leaning up into him and fisting the collar of his flannel to bring him closer.

He quietly groaned against me when I let my tongue trail across his bottom lip. He let me in right away and our tongues explores each other’s mouths for several long seconds. My hands moved to the sides of his head, a chill rolling through me at prickle of his buzzed hair against my palms. He suddenly turned us around and took a few steps forward, slamming my back into a nearby wall.

A surprised grunt fell past my lips, and he instantly pulled away. His eyes flickered over my face quickly, wide with alarm. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his overreaction and let my arms wind around his neck to keep him close. “It’s okay. I kind of...liked it.”

My skin erupted with heat at my own confession. I’d always secretly enjoyed the small moments he let himself go like this. I didn’t want him to be cautious and gentle all the time. He still acted like he was afraid to break me when we were intimate, and it wasn’t helping me feel any more normal. His eyebrows rose fractionally, giving away the surprise he was trying to contain.

A slow smile pulled at his lips just before he slanted them over mine again. I arched up into him, sighing as a calming tingle washed over my skin. The feeling only intensified as our kiss became more heated, both of us moaning and gripping at each other almost frantically. It was only when my temples suddenly throbbed painfully that I realized something was wrong.

My brows furrowed as an image flashed in my mind, too quickly to comprehend. I pulled away from Stiles with a gasp, rubbing at my forehead as the pain only increased.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice rose with worry as he clasped a hand on each of my shoulders to steady me.

I forced my eyes to stay open, hoping the vision would pass. Instead, I was overcome with the overwhelming urge to get out of the small room. Maybe if I put some distance between us, it would go away. I quickly whipped around and shoved the door open, stumbling out into the now empty hallway. I heard Stiles’ shoes on the tiled floor as he followed me out, and waved a hand in his direction dismissively.

“I’m fine.” I wheezed out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “It’s just...”

I made the mistake of blinking slowly, instantly succumbing to the vision once my eyes were closed again. I was still standing in the hallway, just as before, but Stiles was nowhere to be found. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even in the same hallway. I let my eyes trail over the space as I turned all the way around, finally realizing that I was by the main office.

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of a man standing in front of the trophy case just down the small flight of stairs behind me. My eyes trailed down his frame slowly, a strange familiarity tugging at the back of my mind as I took in his weathered leather jacket and dirty, bare feet. My heart started racing as a feeling of complete and utter dread washed over me.

I blinked a few times to clear my vision, jumping again when the man was no longer there. Now, standing in the same exact position, was Lydia. She was unmistakable even from the back, with her strawberry blonde hair, bright blue dress, and high heels that were definitely not school appropriate. When I moved to take a step toward her, I felt myself being pulled back into the present with a jerk.

My eyes popped open and I sat up with a start, one of my hands instantly moving to my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

“Y/N! Oh my god. What the hell was that?” Stiles’ wide eyes bored into mine from above as he clutched my biceps and shook me gently.

I sputtered silently for a few seconds as I got my barings, not knowing what to say. My head moved from side to side slowly as I took in my surroundings. I was back in the hallway near my locker, sitting on the floor with Stiles crouched down in front of me.

“I have to—” I swallowed thickly, my heart still beating erratically. “I have to go find Lydia.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance, giving me a incredulous glower. “Are you kidding me right now? You can’t just pass out in the middle of the hallway and then—what are you doing?”

His wide eyes tracked my movements as I shoved myself up to my feet. Despite looking like he wanted to strangle me for mot staying put, Stiles helped steady me with the hands still wrapped around my arms.

“Going to find Lydia.” I drawled slowly, seeing as I’d just said that, and brushed his hands away.

My knees wobbled slightly as I made my way toward the office. I pushed through the nausea brewing in the pit of my stomach that only seemed to grow with each step. Something felt very wrong. I couldn’t place it, I just knew I needed to find Lydia as quickly as possible.

“Y/N, just slow down for a second.” Stiles’ voice grew hard as he gripped my elbow and forced me to a stop. I sighed, a spark of annoyance igniting in my chest at the delay, and turned to face him. “Whatever the hell just happened back there was totally not okay. I mean you can’t just pass out one second and then run away from me the next and expect—”

“I think I have a good excuse.” I bit out, sounding more harsh than necessary. He pursed his lips, his shoulders stiffening, and I rolled my eyes. “Just trust me?”

After a few long moments of hesitation, he nodded slowly. With that, I turned on my heel and continued on my way, Stiles trailing behind. Less than a minute later, I staggered to a halt at the top of the staircase outside the main office.

My eyes instantly landed on Lydia, standing in the same position I’d seen her in moments ago. A strong sense of deja vu washed over me at the sight. My breathing slowed as I took a tentative step down, nervous that this was all a dream that I’d be waking up harshly from again.

“Lydia?” My voice was a hesitant whisper as I approached her slowly. I didn’t want to startle her, but she stood impossibly still in front of the trophy case, not even flinching at the sound of her name.

I came to a stop beside her, my eyes flickering over her profile quickly. After a few seconds of standing there and getting no response, I followed her wide-eyed stare through the glass. My breath hitched as I caught sight of the words that were engraved into one of the trophies closest to us.

My heart plummeted into my stomach as realization washed over my like a thirty foot tidal wave. There wasn’t much to it. Just two words with captain beneath it.

It was kind of funny, in a terrible way, that two simple words could make such intense dread fill me to my core. It was a name I’d be more than happy to never see again, but couldn’t seem to escape.

Peter Hale.

Lydia suddenly breathed out a shaky sigh from beside me, and I let my eyes sweep back to hers. They were wide and bloodshot, filled to the brim with tears as she gave me this terrified, almost vacant look. All I could do was stare back at her, this whole weird situation only confirming my worst fear.

Peter’s bite had done something to her. She’d been acting different ever since turning up at the edge of the preserve, she was just way too good at hiding it. I was probably the only one that noticed the subtle changes in her, but I knew there had to be something going on beneath the surface.

Now, we just needed to figure out what.

————————

“God, could it be any colder in here?” Lydia muttered, shivering dramatically as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

We’d barely made it two steps into the ice skating rink, and she was already complaining. I guess her little episode at the school hadn’t effected her all that much, and we hadn’t spoken a word of it since. Stiles and I shared a quick glance before he dropped his bookbag from his shoulder and unzipped it to pull out a random long-sleeved shirt.

“Here.” He offered it to her and she curled her lip as if it were the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen.

“I’m wearing blue. Orange and blue...not a good combination.” With a dramatic huff, she quickly strutted off toward the bleachers.

Stiles gaped at her back, his jaw falling slack at her words. “But it’s the colors of the Mets...”

Scott clapped a hand on his back reassuringly as he and Allison passed us by, giggling about who knows what. I rolled my eyes as Stiles huffed in offense and shoved the shirt back into his bag. We joined everyone on the stands a moment later, quickly sliding our skates on.

About thirty minutes later, I stood against the edge of the rink, my hands propped against the wall to keep my balance. All I could do was watch in awe as Lydia skated circles around every last one of us. I was seriously wracking my brain for anything that this girl couldn’t do. She seemed to be great at everything she tried.

She twirled around too many times to count and came out of it smiling proudly, even raising her eyebrows at me expectantly when she saw that I was staring. She skated away and my attention shifted to Allison as she practically dragged Scott across the ice, moving backward so she could keep him steady by holding his hands.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. He’d talked a big game on the way here, saying he’d have no problem ice skating even though he’d never tried it before. The whole werewolf thing was starting to go to his head, apparently. Suddenly, a warm hand closed around mine as Stiles approached me from the side.

“Come on.” He urged, gently pulling me away from the wall.

My knees instantly locked up as I lost my grip on the only thing keeping me upright. It’s where I’d spent most of my time since getting onto the ice. I’d only skated a few times before, and I was absolute shit at it each time. Stiles though, in all his spazzy glory, was surprisingly well balanced.

I let him guide me along, yelping in surprise when he unexpectedly wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me against him. My hands gripped his shoulders so I wouldn’t go tumbling onto the hard ice as he grinned down at me before planting a quick kiss on my lips.

A relaxed smile overtook my face as I gazed up at him, completely at ease in his arms. Despite being slightly terrified of getting hurt, this was actually a super fun date. It was nice to let go for a little while and enjoy doing something utterly normal with my friends. There were no monsters, no alphas, and no psycho family members here. Just a bunch of teenagers sneaking into an ice skating rink after hours.

After Scott flailed to the ice for what must’ve been the thirtieth time, he and Allison disappeared into a photo booth around the other side of the rink. I let Stiles pull me around in big circles, still wanting to be close to the wall just in case he bailed on me. I couldn’t help but grin as his brows furrowed in concentration and his tongue swept across his lips when he gave me pointers.

He’d been critiquing my form, telling me to bend my knees, keep my feet straight, and so many more random things that were going in one ear and out the other. I wasn’t interested in being perfect, I just wanted to not fall on my ass. After making it all the way around for the first time successfully, I jumped into his arms, proud of myself.

“Whoa...” He chuckled, nearly falling backward as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

I closed the distance between us quickly, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. He instantly tilted his head to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue along my bottom lip slowly. I eagerly let him in as his arms tightened around me, momentarily forgetting where we were until I heard the unmistakable swoosh of someone falling on the ice.

I pulled away from Stiles and peered over his shoulder, wincing as I saw Lydia down in a low crouch. I was honestly surprised that she fell at all, considering how well she’d been doing the whole night, but didn’t think much more of it. I moved back to Stiles, who waggled his eyebrows at me with a dopy grin. I couldn’t help but giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck again to pull him back in.

Just before my eyes fluttered closed, something strange caught my eye. I jerked back, fumbling a little as I moved Stiles to the side so that I could see Lydia fully. There, poking out of the ice just a few inches in front of her, was a single stalk of wolfsbane. It was unmistakable even from this distance, the deep purple leaves contrasting against the stark whiteness of the ice.

“Oh my God. Are you seeing this?” I breathed, my heart skipping a beat anxiously.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded from beside me, one of his arms still around my waist to hold me steady. “She’s definitely not okay.”

My brows furrowed as I watched her lift a hand to brush against the plant gently. Her head cocked to the side as she inspected it closely, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“No, not that.” I huffed in annoyance, pointing toward the wolfsbane. “That wasn’t there before, right?”

Stiles instantly stiffened against me. I let my gaze sweep to him slowly, slightly afraid to see his reaction to my words, but his face was unreadable. His eyes were swirling with worry as they peered down into mine. He swallowed thickly and cleared his through before speaking.

“Y/N, there’s nothing there now...” His voice was delicate, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would make me dissolve into a complete nervous breakdown.

My head whipped in her direction once again, my pulse jumping at the sight of her frantically wiping her hand against the ice. Her eyes widened as she peered down into it, her face dropping in terror.

Without warning, she suddenly let out a long, bloodcurdling scream. I winced at the shrill noise, my palms jerking up to cover my ears. When she didn’t stop after a few seconds, I knew I had to do something.

I broke away from Stiles, who was staring at her as if she’d grown a second head, and shakily made my way toward her. I let myself slide down onto the ice when I was close enough, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She thrashed against me, her hands pressed firmly into the ice as she continued screaming. It almost seemed uncontrollable, like she physically couldn’t stop.

My head jerked upward as I heard quick footsteps approaching. Scott and Allison stood at the edge of the rink, watching the scene unfold, their faces a mix of horror and curiosity. Lydia finally stopped screeching and sagged back against me, her ragged breathing reduced to harsh sobs as tears streamed freely down her face.

My eyes widened in alarm at the sight. I’d never seen her express such intense emotion before. She always kept that mask of perfection firmly in place, never letting it slip for a second. She hadn’t even been this outwardly upset after wandering around the woods for a week.

As if that weren’t bad enough, a realization slowly dawned on me as my eyes flickered around the ice. Just as Stiles said, there was nothing there. No wolfsbane. Not even a stray leaf. I sat back on the cool surface, letting out a heavy sigh. The nagging sense of dread that’d been slowly drifting toward the forefront of my mind was ever-present now.

And I had a feeling it was only going to get worse from here.

———————

I glared down at the textbook in front of me, rubbing at my temples as I tried desperately to focus. I’d been attempting to study for hours now, and it just wasn’t working. Believe it or not, it hadn’t taken long for me and the guys to get further wrapped up in the current supernatural bullshit.

One of our classmates, Boyd, has been missing for several days. It just so happens that Isaac and Erica are equally as M.I.A., and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. Derek was still turning people, and he had a clear pattern. He was picking through the outcasts first, choosing loners who wouldn’t raise much suspicion if they just suddenly stopped coming to school.

What he didn’t count on was coach Finstock alerting the team of Boyd’s absence. After school, Stiles went to his house to check on him, while Scott was on a mission to find Derek. That left me here, all alone in my bedroom struggling to study.

I’d been trying to get ahold of Stiles for the last hour, but he hadn’t answered any of my texts. I didn’t want to be that clingy girlfriend, but I was honestly starting to get pretty worried. If Boyd was caught up in this mess, there could easily be hunters on his trail already. There’s no telling what Derek is up to, either, and that made me incredibly nervous.

Just then, something thumped against my window. I jumped at the unexpected noise, my eyes instantly darting toward it. My shoulders relaxed a moment later as I saw a familiar face, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I popped to my feet and walked across my bedroom before sliding the window open.

Scott tumbled to the hardwood floors, rubbing at his forehead with a grimace. “Why is your window closed?”

“It’s forty degrees outside.” I huffed, shoving the glass pane back down as a gust of freezing wind blew inside. “What, am I just supposed to keep it open incase you decide to crawl in?”

He rolled his eyes at me, brushing his clothes off as he quickly scrambled to his feet. I crossed my arms over my chest, quirking a curious brow in his direction.

“Stiles isn’t answering me so I need your help.”

I was about to make a snide comment about being his backup plan, when his words finally sunk all the way in. If neither of us could get ahold of him, something was probably wrong.

“When’s the last time you heard from him?” I pressed, my stomach twisting with worry.

“At school, but we’re gonna have to figure that out later.” He rushed the words out quickly, clearly anxious. “I know where Boyd is.”

“Is that really what’s important right now?” I gaped at him, honestly surprised that he would choose to pursue the Boyd issue when his best friend might be in trouble.

“He’s fine, okay? I need to stop Derek before this gets out of control.” His voice hardened as he grew impatient with my stalling, but I didn’t give a single fuck. I didn’t want to be wrapped up in this supernatural shit anyway.

“You don’t have to do anything, Scott.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “No one’s expecting you to fix all of Beacon Hills’ problems.”

“Are you gonna help me or not?” He pressed, moving toward my bedroom door expectantly.

I let out a long sigh, not even having to consider my answer. Of course I would help him, because he’s way too strong-willed to see that one of these days he’s going to get himself seriously hurt. I gestured for him to open the door and he gave me a triumphant smile before stepping into the hallway.

About twenty minutes later, we made our way into the ice skating rink cautiously. I guess it made sense that he’d be here if he ran away. Scott wouldn’t tell me how he knew to come here, because he didn’t understand it all that well himself. He said he just knew and that it was a werewolf thing.

It didn’t take long to find him, since he was driving around the ice on a huge zamboni. It was kind of hard to see in the dimly lit rink, but it was definitely Boyd on there.

“Boyd!” Scott called, his voice echoing through the large space.

He didn’t even move an inch, just continuing to stare ahead and ignore us. Scott stepped onto the ice easily and made his way toward him. I followed suit a lot slower, my knees wobbling as I tried to stay upright. My arms flailed at my sides as I slid slowly in their direction.

“I just wanna talk. Hey, come on Boyd, please. Did Derek tell you everything? And I don’t just mean going out of control on the full moons. I mean everything.” Scott tried again, this time earning a visible sigh from our classmate.

He turned his head slowly in our direction, his face completely devoid of any recognizable emotion. “He told me about the hunters.”

“And that’s not enough for you?” I snapped, nearly falling flat on my ass as I shakily came to a stop beside Scott.

“Whatever you want, there’s other ways to get it.” He added, looking up at Boyd earnestly.

I admired the way that he cared for everyone, even if he didn’t know them well. I’d only seen him talk to Boyd a handful of times all year and yet, here he was, going out of his way just to try and change his mind. It was a bit misguided at times, but still admirable.

“I just want to not eat lunch alone every day.” Boyd’s voice dropped sadly, his frustration at being a loner clear. My heart went out to him, it’s hard to make friends in high school, but that doesn’t mean you take a crazy persons offer to turn you into a werewolf.

“If you’re looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek.” Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes at the idea of anyone being friends with him.

“That really hurts, Scott.” Both of our heads whipped toward the entrance of the rink at the sound of a deep voice. My eyes flickered over Derek, Isaac, and Erica as they all stood in a line several feet away. It was honestly impressive that the three of them managed to get all the way here undetected. “I mean, if you’re going to review me, at least take a consensus. Erica, hows life been since we met?”

She hummed lowly, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips as she twirled a strand of long blonde hair around her pointer finger. “In a word...transformative.”

I almost snorted at the accuracy of that word, but my amusement was quickly cut short as she barred her sharpened teeth and growled our way. My eyes widened, shocked at the level of control she already had. It took weeks for Scott to learn how to shift only certain parts of his body, so Derek must be focusing heavily on training them.

That wasn’t a good thing.

“Isaac?” His head cocked to the side arrogantly as he addressed the other beta behind him.

“Well. I’m a little bummed about being a fugitive, but other than that, I’m great.” He tilted his head back nonchalantly, his tone dripping with boredom.

“Wait, hold on.” Scott clenched his jaw and grabbed one of my hands before pulling me behind him. My legs wobbled as I slid across the ice and I gripped his arm for stability. “This isn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Then go home, Scott.” Derek drawled before jerking his head toward Isaac and Erica.

They both instantly shifted, snarling and growling like wild animals. My heart jumped in my chest and I moved further behind Scott instinctively. I honestly forgot how terrifying newly turned werewolves can be. They had this unhinged energy, like they’d rip a thousand people apart without even batting an eye.

Scott suddenly dropped my hand and gripped my hip instead. I barely had time to glance at him in question before he was forcefully shoving me away from him. I instantly lost my footing at the unexpected move and flailed down onto the ice. Every muscle in my body stiffened as I continued sliding for several feet, only stopping once I slammed against the outer wall of the rink.

All the air rushed from my lungs in a huff at the harsh impact. I blinked a few times to clear my head and shoved my hair out of my eyes just in time to see Scott smash a fist into the ice. My jaw dropped as it easily shattered beneath his fingers. I knew he was strong, but damn was that impressive. It had to be at least a foot thick.

When his head jerked upward a moment later, he was completely shifted into his werewolf form. “I meant fair for them.” His voice was thick and guttural as he forced the words out through a tightly clenched jaw.

He roared loudly, the whole building rattling from the sheer volume of it, as Isaac and Erica came barreling toward him. He easily picked Isaac up by the lapels of his leather jacket and threw him clear across the rink like a ragdoll. I couldn’t help but wince as he hit the plexiglass barrier harshly, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest as he popped right back to his feet.

Erica came at Scott’s back, but he whirled around before she could land a hit, slamming her into the now parked Zamboni that Boyd was still sitting on. Isaac growled before sprinting forward, managing to shove him up against the large vehicle.

He was only caught off guard for a split second, but that was enough time for Isaac to throw him over his shoulder, sending him a few feet in the air. Erica pounced on him the second he hit the ice, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

He easily shook her off by slamming her back into the Zamboni, landing a bone-crushing punch to Isaac’s stomach. He lurched forward with a grunt and Scott smashed his elbow down onto his back, making him fall to the ice in a crumpled heap.

I staggered to my feet as both Erica and Isaac laid there for several seconds, motionless. It looked like Scott was quickly losing control of his anger, and I didn’t want him to do something he might regret. Fighting them off was one thing, but situations like this could go south in the blink of an eye if he didn’t reel himself in soon.

I only made it one shaky step before a hand clasped around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks. My head jerked to the side to see Derek’s disapproving face only inches away. I pulled against him aimlessly, knowing that I wouldn’t be moving an inch as long as he didn’t want me going anywhere.

“Let go.” I hissed, my eyes narrowing into a harsh glare.

He quirked a brow, seemingly amused that I’d try and stand up to him. “Yeah, can’t do that.”

At the sound of a pained groan I twisted back toward the fight, just in time to see Scott kick Isaac in the face as he struggled to get to his feet. My eyes widened as he whipped around and threw Erica down onto the ice harshly.

I tugged at my arm again, needing to stop him before things got even uglier. When Derek’s grip only tightened, I faced him and shoved back against his chest harshly. “He’s going to kill them!”

His eyes swept across the rink before slowing making their way back to me. He lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and I gaped at him, shocked at his lack of compassion. He didn’t even give a shit that the two people he turned into werewolves were getting their asses handed to them.

“God, is being a huge asshole part of becoming an alpha?” I snapped, finally managing to pull myself free. I staggered back a few steps, not expecting him to actually let me go, nearly falling down in the process. “What are you even trying to do?”

He made no move to respond, his lips twitching up into a slow smirk as his gaze flickered over my shoulder. I slid myself around to see that Scott was standing over Erica and Isaac’s unconscious bodies, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“Don’t you get it?” His voice echoed off the walls as it rose angrily. “He’s not doing this for you. He’s just adding to his own power, okay? It’s all about him. He makes you feel like he’s given you this gift, when all he’s done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!”

He suddenly slammed a hand down onto Isaac’s back and slid him across the ice toward us. He stopped right at Derek’s feet, just before Scott did the same Erica. He rose to his full height slowly, narrowing his eyes into a hard glare.

“It’s true. It is about power.” Derek stalked forward slowly, jerking his hand down to his side to reveal his sharpened claws.

His head snapped in all directions as he transformed, his eyes flashing bright red as he stopped only a foot away from Scott and snarled. Without warning, he headbutted him harshly, sending him stumbling back a step. He took the opportunity to slash his claws against Scott’s stomach and I gasped, instantly covering my mouth to stifle the sound.

My heart lurched in my chest, panic surging through me as Derek landed blow after incapacitating blow. Scott was too weakened by the fight with Isaac and Erica to do anything about it, which I now could see was what Derek wanted the whole time.

A painful realization washed over me just then, as Scott fell to his knees. All I could do was watch as one of my best friends was beaten to a pulp right in front of me. I was utterly useless. Not only did I not have any heightened senses or reflexes, but I wouldn’t even know how to use a weapon if I had one.

Within seconds Scott was laying flat on the ice, clutching at Derek’s leg as it crushed his airway. He coughed and sputtered as Derek finally moved off of him a second later, not even gracing him with any parting words before walking away as if nothing had happened. I instantly started sprinting as best I could, falling onto my knees at Scott’s side a moment later.

My eyes widened as I took in his battered state. Blood was spilling from the sides of his mouth, and the gashes in his stomach were clearly visible through the tears in his shirt. I didn’t know how fast his healing was supposed to work, but it didn’t look like it was getting better at all.

I saw movement in my peripheral and turned to see Boyd walking toward us cautiously.

“Don’t.” Scott coughed out another few drops of blood and tried to sit up, only stopping once I put a firm hand on his chest. He wasn’t in any kind of shape to be moving at all. “You don’t want to be like them.”

“You’re right.” Boyd nodded, slowly lifting his shirt to reveal an almost completely healed bite mark above his hip. My stomach twisted anxiously at the sight. We were too late and this dumb fighting was all for nothing. “I wanna be like you.”

With that, he turned to join the others as they made their way toward the exit. My head jerked back to Scott as he let out a series of pained grunts. His eyes caught mine, shining with worry, as his head fell back against the ice. I could only assume we were both thinking the same thing.

We were so beyond screwed.

Episode 2

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dragonseattofu · 3 years

Text

Spaces Between My Fingers (NEO TWEWY fanfiction)

Summary: Neshiki NEO reunion. NEO TWEWY spoilers. Everyday for two years after Neku’s disappearance, Shiki sits behind Hachiko talking to what looks like herself, her hand securely in another that she can feel but can’t see. Warnings for depression and panic attacks. Check source content for Ao3 link.

Preview:

“Great work on the presentation Misaki-san!”

“Excellent job as always Misaki-san! Have a wonderful evening!”

“See you tomorrow!”

Shiki smiled and nodded at the outpouring of compliments from her staff as they filed out of the conference room. It was her last meeting of the day, and she was exhausted. Never in a million years could she have imagined being the youngest CEO of any clothing company, much less her own brand at the age of eighteen. But, being young didn’t make the responsibilities of a trending brand owner any less tiring. On the bright side, the remainder of the evening was all hers to spend at her own pace.

With that in mind, Shiki gathered her laptop and papers under her arm, turned off the lights and closed the door behind her. She retrieved her messenger bag from the coat rack in her office, pulled the keys from the front pocket, and said a habitual goodnight into the empty space before locking the office for the night.

The soft tapping of rubber on carpet filled the empty hallway on her way to the elevator, the sounds of mindess instrumental music soothed her tired nerves on her voyage down from the eight floor. Slow clicking of gears moving, and the opening the heavy metal doors woke her from her stupor, gesturing light apologies on her way out as more bodies piled into the elevator.

Fresh air filled her lungs as she finally reached the ground level, going westward toward the neighborhood coffee shop where she’s a regular, and the barista started mixing her drink before she could even fish out her wallet. Condensation on the side of the plastic cup collected at her fingertips, leaving a wet smudge on the door as she exited, her sneakered shoes guiding her in the direction of a statue, faithfully waiting for his master that will never come.

Shiki takes a seat behind Hachiko, and looks down at her watch. 19:01. She chuckles, she’s a minute late. She pops an earbud in her ear, and rests her right hand, palm up, on the side of the seat next to her, and waits. She takes another sip of her drink, licking her lips, savoring the overly sweet beverage on the verge of crystallization.

A couple walks by talking about dinner plans, and a group of female students discussing Prince’s recent social media posts pass by as well. A shiba stops in front of her, tilting its head to the side for a brief moment, almost as if he sees something that others can’t, before his owner tugs him along.

Her breath catches and she waits for a split second before she feels a slight shift in the wind around her, an even lighter pressure on her palm. She exhaled, relishing the feel of the spaces between her fingers filling, and she smiled.

“So, I had another productive meeting today....”

She speaks for about an hour into the wind about how her day went, what her last conversation with Eri was like, even about her new not inanimate pet, Mrs. Mew. From afar, most people think she’s talking to herself, those closer assume she’s on the phone. Little do they know that they are both wrong, but that hasn’t stopped her from coming to Hachiko everyday, and speaking into the void as if she’s carrying on a conversation with a long lost friend.

She’s not exactly sure when she started doing this, but it became her way of, well, grieving. After a couple months of blissful dating, getting to know one another outside the confines of a death game, she had sort of … fallen in love.

Only for that love to be suddenly ripped from her with nothing left but a note, from a not so helpful composer. The first couple of days were devastating, she didn’t leave her bed, she wouldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. The weeks thereafter weren’t much better. Eri, and Rhyme were constantly by her side, making sure she didn’t end up in the hospital for malnuritionment. Beat showed up soon after to smack some sense into her, mostly figuratively.

Beat slammed open her bedroom door, Eri and Rhyme trailing behind yelling at him to calm down. His usual sympathetic expression was replaced with one of impatience and frustration.

“Shiki, enough of this. Get up and go eat somethin’!”

An empty gaze was his only response. He growled, stomping into her room and ripped open the curtains, beams of sunlight showering her floor, her bed, her listless face. In the light he could see that she lost a significant amount of weight in such a short period of time. She was already lean before, now her face began to look sunken in from the starvation and constant darkness. Beat suddenly felt another overwhelming wave of emotion sweep over him.

“This is ridiculous, girl, ya can’t keep goin’ like this or you’ll…” He choked up; he didn’t complete his thought; he just couldn’t. Rhyme and Eri lunged forward to try and hold back the blonde as he grabbed Shiki by the front of her shirt, pulling their faces closer, glaring at her with an intensity he didn’t think he would ever use on her.

Her world shook as droplets fell onto Shiki’s glasses. She could feel Beat shaking from his grasp, his usually clear cerulean eyes were stormy, almost like the sky had broken. A lump formed in her throat. She forgot through her heartbreak that other people might also feel the same pain she was feeling. Sure, she was his first partner, but Beat was also his partner too.

For a tense moment nobody moved, Beat stared into Shiki’s eyes hoping to get his message across wordlessly, Eri and Rhyme holding onto Beat on both sides to restrain him. She had every right to grieve and her pain was more than he could ever imagine, but Beat needed her to know that she wasn’t alone, and that he was there for her, if she would let him. He couldn’t afford to lose her before he got the chance to save him.

Ever so slowly, Shiki moved her one hand over Beat’s. She grabbed a fistful of his jersey in her other hand. For that excruciating week, she went from feeling anxious and depressed to just numb. Now she felt relieved that there was someone else who understood this persistent gnawing ache in her chest. Brotherly simpleton Beat wasn’t being sympathetic to her heartache, but rather empathetic in her mourning.

Her face started to prickle, as the wells that had dried up started to free fall again. She moved to grab Beat, nestling her head into his chest and just … cried. He rested his large hand on her head and hugged her tightly, supporting each other in this moment of catharsis. They stayed like that until Shiki passed out again.

When she came too, Beat, Eri and Rhyme stayed with her that day to make sure she consumed something.

Sometime in the afternoon, Eri decided to attack Beat to get some measurements for a pants design. Big muscular Beat hiding behind tiny Rhyme who was doing little to nothing to protect her older brother from the teen designer wielding a measuring tape going too close for comfort to his ... particular body parts. Shiki graced them all with a smile none of them saw in days.

Big brother Beat decided to have all his meals with her that day forward. Eri said that she could handle this, and found him to be a nuisance, but he didn’t care. Slowly Shiki’s appetite and strength returned, more places ventured outward, even the whirling of her bobbins clicking could be heard throughout the house.

Everytime she had a relapse, a brief moment of chest-tightening, her breath catching, she’d reach out and Beat would be there, embracing her until the panic attack subsided.

With her good days and her bad days, Shiki decided to go back to school after taking a month of absence. Eri got her back into the sewing club, pelting her with designs to keep her busy. The distraction was helpful, almost becoming necessary.

Sometimes she’d go to the skate park, sitting on the bench watching Beat and Rhyme do ollies in front of a setting sun. She would sketch out pieces inspired by the skaters, a little black cat signature adorning each one. Rhyme uploaded some of her designs and completed outfits on a popular social media platform, and named it Gatto Nero with her permission. Sooner than later, Shiki had a following of over one thousand, then five, then over ten approaching twenty. It also helped that her best friend was an influencer and modeled everything Shiki made.

Before anyone knew it, Shiki was approached by the founder of Jupiter of the Monkey, who was impressed by her work, and offered her an intern position while she was still in school. With more tasks to keep her busy, everyday slipped by faster and faster, and the relapses became more infrequent.

A year had passed since his disappearance, and Shiki never really forgot, more so distracted herself with other things to keep her busy on a day like today. After classes, Shiki would go to her internship to work on a couple of assignments and with her last meeting with her supervisor over, she headed out to catch the train home.

She slowed her pace down when she passed the 104 building, mindlessly loitering near the window displays to check out the trends. The Scramble Crossing was busy as usual, and she found herself wandering closer and closer to the statue of Hachiko.

Shiki stared at the bronze canine, her mind drifting to the promise she made quite a long time ago. Realizing she wasn’t in a rush to go home anyway, she took a seat behind the statue.

“Well Neku,” she hesitated, having not uttered his name in almost a year, “it looks like I didn’t keep my promise to be here everyday waiting for you to come back.”

“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.” She could feel her anxiety bubble in her throat, like digging at a wound that had scabbed over and was threatening to bleed out again. Thinking of him was painful, but she realized then that they did have a lot of memories, wonderful, happy memories that she had forgotten in her grief. Memories that were hers to hold onto for as long as she wanted them. Shiki could feel her heartbeat slowing down, the tension in her body subsiding ever so slightly.

“I hope that you’re alright somewhere out there,” she said into the open space in front of her, “I-I miss you.”

Just then a slight touch graced her hands on her lap, but when she looked up, no one was there. The ticking of the crosswalk signs, the pattering of shoes on asphalt, and the shouts of last minute sales continued on as if time and sound hadn’t stopped for a moment. Not exactly sure what she was doing, Shiki raised her hand out in front of her, and a second later, she felt a resistance, an air of familiarity filling the spaces between her fingers effortlessly.

Shiki jumped up in surprise, her bag holding Mr. Mew clattering to the floor before whispering, “...Neku?”

An invisible thumb tapped the back of her hand lightly. She couldn’t hear him, she couldn’t see him, but she could feel him. He was probably in the UG, but for some reason, she could tell he was standing right in front of her.

She sobbed, “Is that really you ---?”

“Shiki! Why ya cryin’? What happened, yo?”

The connection was lost as Beat skated up to her, visibly concerned, looking for some clue as to why his best friend was crying in public. He pulled out a crumpled cloth handkerchief from his back pocket, a gift from Rhyme that came in handy more times than he thought it would.

Shiki continued to stare at the open space, trying to make sense of what had just happened, grasping for what she thought was remnants of a lost love, but the sensation was gone. Whatever was there, it wasn’t there anymore. Even if he was in the game, she shouldn’t have been able to touch anything in the UG. Her mind raced with different jumbled thoughts. What was that? How did that happen? Why now?

“Earth to Shiki!” Beat waved his hand in front of her, successfully snapping her out of her trance.

She looked at him, accepted the handkerchief and dried her tears. Whatever that was, talking about it would only land her another session at the doctor's office. She knew Beat would believe her, but after her long painful year of recovery that he had witnessed, she doubted he would be open to the thought of dredging that wound up again.

Shiki didn’t trust her words, so instead she reached over and hugged him. Without hesitation, Beat returned the gesture. When her sobs had subsided, he gently asked, “let’s bounce?”

In an overprotective brotherly way, he kept his arm around her shoulders after retrieving her bag from the floor.

“Yeah.”

The next morning, Shiki found the day dragging on. She was on autopilot at school, and her assignments at her internship were more clerical in nature, requiring very little brain power. Anything not immediately due would be tomorrow’s problem.

She rushed out of the office building, crossed the scramble and stopped in front of the metal statue. Shiki held her breath as she sat down exactly where she was yesterday. Her muscles tensed as she inhaled deeply.

“So I might be losing my mind, and everyone will think I’m crazy but if you are here, if-if you’re really still here, I’d want you to know that … I miss you Neku.”

For an agonising moment, nothing happened. She wasn’t really sure what she was hoping for. Was everything yesterday just her imagination? Was she just feeling sentimental and willed the tactile sensation into reality?

After a couple more minutes of fruitless imagination, Shiki was about to give up and leave when she felt something, no, someone, grab her hand. Frightened at the sudden contact, Shiki looked down to see that nothing was there, just the fortune lines on her open palm and her silver pinky ring. Yet someone was there, holding her hand in a way she hadn’t felt in so long. She smiled as her eyes began to water.

“It’s you isn’t it.” She said more confidently, though she felt nothing of the sort. A light tap on the back of her hand was her only affirmation.

“I have so many questions for you, but I’ll save them for when you get back. The only one I need to ask is w-will you be back?” She tentatively prodded the air metaphorically, hoping she hadn’t pressed her luck. Another light tap had her smiling once more.

“Beat’s going to kill you if you ever make it out of the UG. Rhyme’s not going to stop him. Eri hates your guts for leaving me.” She chuckled at that. She felt her hand move slightly, almost as if he sat down next to her. He brushed his unseen thumb over her knuckles.

A couple of people passing by looked at Shiki as if she wasn’t having a completely one sided conversation with herself in broad daylight. She honestly couldn’t care less. She rambled on about random things, hoping to catch him up on the entire year he had missed, only the good things because she wasn’t quite ready to talk about the bad ones. She would have continued well into the night if her phone hadn’t rang.

“Girl, why you don pick up ya phone? I’ve been tryin’ to reach ya for hours!” Beat shouted so loudly into her phone she had to remove it from her ear.

“Shiki, where are you?” the smaller girl gently inquired, seemingly having pulled her brother’s phone away from him before he crushed it, “he was about to call the police if you didn’t pick up.”

She could still feel their hands interlocked, but reluctantly replied, “I’m at Hachiko, Rhyme. Tell Beat I’ll text when I leave and get home.”

“Beat wait -- , nevermind he just left. We’ll come pick you up. Just stay there. See you soon!” The phone line clicked.

Shiki sighed, “Beat and Rhyme are coming to get me. It won’t be long before they show up.” She paused, wondering if she could ask what has been on her mind, if the fates were on her side today.

“I’ll promise to be here, everyday, waiting for you to get back to the RG. Until then, can you promise to meet me here, everyday, until I can see you again?” She knew this went against the rules of the game, but the game had dictated her happiness for long enough. If there was any chance of being with him, invisible or otherwise, she would take it.

Her hand moved again, this time their fingers separated, but not completely. His pinky finger wrapped around her silver ring, the same one she wore during the first game, and a new promise was made as they gently shook on it.

And then he was gone. Her hand tingled from the absence of his light touch. She thought she could see faint sparkles from where she presumed he had been sitting. When the Bito siblings found her shortly after, her dazed expression had them both worried, but then a genuine smile broke out on her face as she proposed they go have a light dinner before heading home. Rhyme and Beat looked at each other, communicating through their eyes that they had no idea what had happened, but were glad Shiki’s original spark had finally showed up all the same.

That had been two years ago, and everyday of those two years Shiki spent pretending to talk to someone on the phone instead of an apparition. Everyday for two years of updating his shadow on her daily life routine and not being able to ask him how his day went. This arrangement wasn’t perfect, but just knowing that he was alive, even if they were on separate planes, meant that there was hope she would see him again. Even as the weeks went to months, and months went to years, everyday, he would faithfully show up, and they would hold hands just to exist together behind the symbol of loyalty and patience.

“Tomorrow’s my big collaboration presentation to the executives of Jupiter. Eri and Rhyme are going to be there. We could honestly all use the distraction after what happened with Beat. Please look out for him in the UG? Times like this I really wonder what’s going on with the game now and how many people I have to lose to it before it’s satisfied…”

About two weeks ago, Beat magically disappeared. Shiki was going to his classroom to invite him to lunch with her and Eri when she saw a student in his class hand Beat a pin of some sort. They were trending for a while now, but they reminded Shiki too much of the game to want one for herself. Trauma, bad luck, she wasn’t really sure, but she wanted no part in it.

When the student handed it to Beat though, he vanished into thin air. She dropped her bento and unceremoniously ran into the classroom. Shiki demanded what just happened, when Beat’s classmate just looked at her, his eyes dilated for a second, returned back to normal, and looked surprised. She again pressed on for an answer, to which the student had no idea who or what she was talking about.

It was almost as if Beat’s entire existence was … erased. When she realized that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she ran to the first year classrooms and shouted for Rhyme. Shiki couldn’t imagine why this was happening again. She finally was able to talk to Neku again and now her pseudo brother, Beat, was missing.

Despite the inner turmoil she was feeling, Shiki had enough sense that day to ask Neku if he’d seen or heard from Beat. It was difficult to communicate when the only responses she got were taps on her hand but she managed to find out that Beat was indeed in the UG, even if Neku hadn’t seen him personally yet. Rhyme had a look in her eyes, almost as if she was looking beyond the plane of the RG and was preparing her next move. Rhyme said not to worry, she was going to track down her brother down one way or another.

For the past two weeks, Shiki had a few depressive relapses. Even though she had her coping mechanisms, her rock was gone. Rhyme was working on her military grade computer system to find Beat in the UG, and Eri helped keep her distracted with work. But it wasn’t the same. It helped that Neku was there for her everyday though, like today.

“Well that's all I have for now. Please keep on eye out for the skaterbrain, and wish me luck on my presentation,” she felt a tap on the back of her hand, “till tomorrow.”

As predicted, Shiki was a ball of nerves during her presentation, but she warmed up at least a quarter way through. It helped that she knew most of the execs from her internship days at Jupiter, and were impressed with her work. The collaboration looked promising for the coming days. Eri and Rhyme, both of her founding Gatto Nero board members, ushered her to leave for her date while they settled some details, promising to meet up with her afterward. She felt like she was on top of the world after that meeting, and was bouncing happily to the coffee shop to grab her customary celebratory drink before heading to Hachiko.

What she saw standing behind the statue made her drop her drink and had her flying across the scramble. She barreled into the boy, causing his headphones to fall into his hood. He took a step back to steady them both before bringing his arms around her.

“Hey Shik’s, did ya miss me tha much?” the blond boy flashed a mischievous grin.

“You idiot! I’m so mad at you! I’m going to sew your feet to the ground if you ever do that again!” Shiki screamed at him, throwing fists into his lean chest to demonstrate how mad she really wasn’t.

“Gah girl, when did ya get so strong?” Beat shrieked, trying to hug her again to stop her from hitting him.

“I missed ya too, now stop hittin’ me yo!” She pouted as she squeezed him tight. She had gotten so used to his hugs, she really missed them.

“I got a surprise fo ya.” He pulled away from her so she could see who was behind him.

She stopped breathing. It was like her lungs and heart decided to shut down at the same time, leaving her body to scramble on how to save the rest of her. Her hands tingled from the lack of oxygen as she stared at his face, the one that had matured, but never really changed after three years. He sported his boyish smile, not hidden behind a collar, the ones she admittedly had forgotten about but made her stomach flutter all the same.

“Hey Stalker.”

She could tell that he was nervous, the same nervous energy he had when they started dating years ago. Shiki had dreamed about what their reunion would be like, what she would do when it happened, what she imagined he would say. It wasn’t that, and she wanted to punch him for it if she could just MOVE.

But she felt paralyzed, and he was getting even more nervous from the silent treatment. There were a couple of people she didn’t recognize around them, but all she saw was Neku.

Growing impatient, Beat slapped Neku on the back so hard he fell forward, catching his balance before he could fall into Shiki. When he was close enough she reached out and grabbed his hand, with all the familiarity she had gotten used to for two years. Then he tenderly touched her face, wiping away her tears.

“I’m home.” He said gently.

She managed to mutter, “welcome home,” before he sealed his promise with a kiss she had been waiting too long to return.

OMAKE

“Phones get a room bro! We got kids ‘ere!”

“Yeah Neku-san get some!”

“We aren’t that much younger than you”

“I believe that I am older than all of you. And with that I bid you all farewell as I am in jeopardy of major spoilers. I must get the new EleStra DLC immediately!”

“Boss, wait, we got to celebrate our victory, come back!”

Notes: Full disclaimer, I haven’t finished TWEWY NEO yet, I’m starting the third week now. I’ve spoiled myself, so I sort of know what happens, but a lot of what I do know is out of context. So take this story as you will, it might not make a whole lot of sense, and might be completely off, but I’m excited that when I do finish the game, how my headcannons will have matched up! Or don’t!

That also being said, I starved myself from reading other fanfics on the Neshiki reunion because I didn’t want it to unintentionally change my headcannon and I also wanted to write without feeling like I was copying someone else’s ideas. If my story is similar to someone else’s, it’s purely because great minds think alike. An example of convergent evolution if you will. (I will be devouring those fics very soon though).

Notes regarding the story-wise: I like found family tropes, and I wanted to make it clear that Beat and Shiki’s relationship are purely brother/sister related if I haven’t already. If you have other shipping goggles on, have at it in this judgement free zone. This story was inspired by this idea I had of Shiki sitting behind Hachiko holding hands (I love hand holding. I wrote two other fanfics about that) with Neku, who is transparent being in the UG, just smiling at her while she talks about her day even though she can’t see him. The miracles of love and friendship traverse all planes right?

Anyway, if you’ve read this far, thanks for listening to my Ted Talk and I hope you enjoyed this Neshiki food I’ve haphazardly prepared in like 7 hours.

#The world ends with you #twewy #twewy neo #neshiki #the world end with you neo #neo the world ends with you #neo twewy #shiki misaki #neku sakuraba #rhyme bito #daisukenojo bito #my post #mypost #myfanfiction #my fanfiction #myfanfic #my fanfic

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shutupandshipit · 3 years

Text

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.11

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 11/20

Previously <- Chapter 10: Alpha Wanted

Chapter 12: Parents and questions they shouldn’t ask -> Next

Author’s Notes: So, there's songs in this chapter! Yay! They are Never Enough by Loren Allred and Tightrope by Michelle Williams (don't @ me about them being from the Greatest Showman, I know it's trending, these songs just fit them so well). You'll notice that there are also two links, and those are to figure skating videos that are the closest to how I imagine the programs to be. If you mute the video and play the song over it, they match up pretty well. I had a really easy time finding one I liked for Izuku, but a much harder time finding an example for Katsuki. I really like Yuna Kim as a model for Izuku and Yuzuru Hanyu as a model for Katsuki, but Yuzuru's style just didn't fit what I was trying to portray in this chapter. That's okay though! Of course, I don't own the videos. They belong to their original posters and creators. Let me know if the links don't work, and I'll find a different way to share them. I hope you guys like the chapter. I had a really fun time writing it, and I can't wait to post for next week!

Chapter 11: Solo

Izuku stepped onto the ice for the first time since his injury. Terror washed through him. His heart raced in his chest. His hands shook violently. His breath quickened. He clutched at the wall to keep himself steady. A fear weighed heavy on him, fear that as soon as he let go his hip or ankle or knee would simply give out. That the break that had healed months ago would suddenly shatter apart again.

Just because he knew it was an irrational fear didn't mean he knew how to fight against it.

“Just take it slow, young Midoriya, there's no need to rush. You've been doing strength training for a few months now, but being back on the ice is a different kind of taxing,” Toshinori said close by, hands stacked on his hips while he watched Izuku all but cowering against the wall.

“I'm not getting tired. Nothing hurts yet, I'm just...” He trailed off, unwilling to admit his fear.

“Scared? I understand. That's a normal reaction after an injury as severe as yours was. I was scared too the first time I got back on the ice after my injury, but it will get easier. Like I said, take it slow. Soon enough, you'll be sprinting and jumping just like you used to, but we've got to start small first.”

“Right,” Izuku whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. They remained there for long moments, and it was only when the scent of sweet spices assaulted his nose that he was able to open his eyes again.

He found Katsuki's familiar red eyes watching him. Katsuki who's hair was pushed away from his forehead with sweat and seemed to be in the middle of a training exercise with Mr. Aizawa. Katsuki who's scent of excitement was beginning to make the rink smell startlingly like snickerdoodles.

Izuku had forgotten what Katsuki's scent smelled like when he was excited, and it made his mouth water.

Embarrassed, he ripped his eyes away. Once upon a time, he had been the reason for that smell. He was desperately jealous of whoever or whatever had provoked such a reaction in his old friend. Whatever it was though, it had nothing to do with a useless deku like him. Maybe one day very far away, he could be the reason again, but he had a long way and a lot of work before then.

Swallowing, he struggled to stand up straight and push carefully along the wall. With each step and each second of feeling Katsuki's eye on him, he felt his confidence slowly inflate.

.....

November Week 2

Izuku stared down at his phone, mouth turned down in a frown as he waited impatiently for Katsuki to respond, but the little icon telling him that his partner had even seen the message remained blank. It was strange to say the least. Katsuki was the most punctual creature he knew and had ever known. The only time he'd ever skipped class or been late for something were times when his rut had hit suddenly or he'd been uncharacteristically sick. To put it simply, Izuku could count on one hand how many times Katsuki had missed something.

He was only holding up three fingers.

"Let's just go, Deku, I don't think he's going to come tonight," Uraraka suggested, still sitting in the same place on the bleachers that she'd been sitting since she and Kaminari had followed him from his apartment. Team practice had been early that morning instead of later, and the pair of omegas had made the unanimous decision to have an omegas' day. So far, they'd had lunch where the pair had pointed out every marginally attractive alpha to cross their paths, gotten mani-pedis, gone window shopping for potential Christmas presents, looked at venues for the team Christmas party, and gone into a sex store specifically catoring to omegas with a wide range of heat aids. Kaminari had been adamant about going in when they passed by, and after more than a little prodding from both of his friends, Izuku had agreed.

Now, a black bag was tucked away in his gym bag with an item that made him both hot around the collar and simultaneously hot between the legs. The item excited him, but he was loathe to admit that to either of them. He'd only ever had a few encounters of the sexual nature, and those hadn't been very good. Other than that, he really didn't think much about his pleasure. He didn't even really masturbate which had seemed to send the omegas into a frenzy. There had been so many noises of astonishment and disbelief from both Kaminari and Uraraka that he'd hid in the lingerie racks for the better part of a half hour until they'd coaxed him out with the promise of ice cream and figure skater themed lingerie sets.

He hadn't thought his lack of sexual appetite was all that strange. He'd been on suppressants for years. Katsuki had been the focus of all his attention since they'd been kids. He'd always just been more focused on figure skating. He wasn't the only one in the world who felt the same. The asexual spectrum existed for a reason, and he was a staunch believer that he was of that spectrum.

Uraraka and Kaminari had followed him back to the rink, fully intending to drag him away after for a sleepover and movie night.

"Yeah, man, let's just go. What's the point of waiting around any longer? We're just wasting time at this point," Kaminari piped up, head hanging back between his shoulders as he leaned against the wall. "This is just typical Bakugou. He doesn't really consider other people's feelings, you know?"

The comment set Izuku's teeth on edge, and with effort, he unclenched his jaw.

Izuku wasn't particularly annoyed. He loved his friends and loved the sense of community that being with the other omegas gave him, but he wished they would just stop talking. He tried very hard to remind himself that no one had known Katsuki as long as he had, and for a good portion of the time they had known him, Katsuki had hiding behind a mask.

Releasing a quiet sigh, Izuku smiled and said, "He'll be here. He just must have gotten tied up with something with his class. He'll be here."

Uraraka smiled, but he could tell that she wanted to sigh. Maybe she even wanted to roll her eyes. "Will you skate for us while we wait then? If he doesn't get here in time, at least you'll have had a chance to practice. You don't have to skate your program, but maybe something else?"

For a moment, Izuku just considered her idea. He smiled. "Sure. That sounds good." Connecting his phone to the speaker that Toshinori left in the rink for them to use on their off time, Izuku quickly found the song he wanted.

.....

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Katsuki hissed as he tore across the street, flipping off a car as they slammed on their brakes and subsequently on their horn. He couldn't stop though. He was fucking late. Really, really fucking late! He hated being late, always had and always would. Being late for his nightly practice with Izuku just pissed him off all the more. The worst part of it all was that his phone had died sometime during the day so he didn't even have a way of letting his partner know that he'd be late.

The situation had been unavoidable though, and Katsuki swallowed passed the thick lump in his throat.

Two of his students had gotten hurt, and memory of the blood splattered ice made bile rise in the back of his throat. He had turned his back for a single second to correct the form of the new five-year-old he'd taken on. Just a moment had been all they needed. Two of his students had tried the same lift Katsuki had tried with Mina off ice, and just like her, their foot had slipped. The blade had sliced deep into their would be partner's thigh and started gushing blood before either of them had really realized what had happened. There had been an ambulance and paperwork and worried parents and Katsuki trying to keep his head on straight in the mayhem. Now, the adrenaline was wearing off, and he could feel himself crashing. Crashing hard.

There was only blood and ice and screaming and green curls and pain twisting Izuku's face and pain twisting Katsuki's chest. He was having a hard time separating the two memories, and while he knew that was dangerous, he didn't know how to stop it.

So, he ran. Ran to catch Izuku before he left the rink, and ran to stave off the no doubt mount panic attack.

Out of the corner of his eye as he passed a store front, he caught the flash of forest green fabric. Screeching to a stop, he backtracked to the window. Someone had dressed mannequins in winter wear. It was clear that each had a theme and that each set of clothing had been handmade. One wore all pink. One wore woodland colors with a bright orange fox-eared beanie. Another was dressed from head to toe in sparkly purple fabric. The one that had caught his attention was the most subdued with the beanie as the only spot of color.

The beanie was forest green like the gloves he'd bought for Izuku. Floppy white lined bunny ears lay across the mannequin’s forehead with little tassels that hung on either side of the mannequin's cheeks. Minutes ticked by as Katsuki kept staring, imagining green locks poking out from beneath the edge as he tugged on the tassels to pull a smile from its wearer. Green eyes going wide as he handed it over, actually presenting his omega with a gift face to face. A whispered, "Thank you," as round freckled cheeks reddened-

"Evening, young man."

If Katsuki could have literally jumped out of his skin, he would have. Jerking his head towards the voice, he stared at the old man that stood in the doorway of the shop. He hadn't noticed, but unlike a lot of shops in the city, this one seemed to be part of a small home. The wood around the window was weathered and old with peeling robin's egg blue paint. Swallowing, Katsuki tried to find his words. If he'd just been staring into this man's home, it was no wonder he'd come out to find out what Katsuki's doing. "Evening, old man," he finally replied gruffly.

A smile cracked across the old man's ancient face, and he leaned out to see into the front window. "My wife's work. She knits all year long with the best yarn she can find so that alphas like yourself can gift something special to their omegas. Or betas, of course. Times are changing. It's more common to see alphas or omegas marrying betas or even their same dynamic. I think that's lovely." His smile only grew as Katsuki blinked at him nonplussed. "Sorry, I tend to ramble. My wife says it's a problem, but I don't think so. Did you have a special someone in mind? Would you like to take a closer look?"

"I'm... late... to meet... with the omega I'm courting," he said haltingly, unable to resist the other alpha's probing. That happened sometimes with the older alphas. It felt like a sense of community to him, one he resisted, but appreciated when he actually took their unsolicited advice.

"You're only getting more late, but this young omega might like a gift in return. It's not an apology, but it could be the start of one."

"I-"

"If you didn't want to take a closer look, you would have already walked away. You don't have to buy anything, but you could keep it in mind."

Sound logic, and with a sigh, Katsuki nodded. Only a few minutes later he had bought the beanie, and a few minutes after being gushed over by the old man's old omega wife, he was sprinting even faster than before. He felt lighter with the beanie clutched in his hand though, and the only thing in his chest was the anticipation of handing the gift over to Izuku.

It felt like there had been a lot of helping hands in his courting of Izuku, but it also felt like he'd been squandering the chances. With any luck, this would push the scales back in his favor. He hadn't heard anything else about the date Izuku had gone on, and sadistically, he hoped it hadn't gone well for the alpha.

When Katsuki finally shoved into the rink, he let out an explosive sigh of relief. Music played through the rink, and he seemed to have come in right at the crescendo. Not only that, but he immediately recognized the song.

' All the shine of a thousand spotlights/all the stars we steal from the night sky/will never be enough- '

Slowly, Katsuki stepped out enough for him to fully see the rink.

There was Izuku, occupying the whole rink with his presence if not his body. Whenever Izuku skated -really skated, not what he did in practice- it was impossible to look away from him. And in that moment, it was even more so.

Out on the ice, Izuku moved more elegantly than ever. There was no wobble in his stance, no hesitation in his jumps. There was a languidness to his movements that made something deep in Katsuki's chest ache to join him. And then he saw the look on Izuku's face.

He clutched the beanie even more tightly. "Why does he look so sad?" he whispered to himself.

He nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time that night when he heard Uraraka speak up from beside him. He hadn't seen her or Kaminari on the bench, too absorbed in his partner.

"I think you know, Bakugou. It might not be obvious to him, but you and I aren't dense."

On the ice, Izuku lifted his open palms toward the ceiling, staring up at them longingly. ' Towers of gold are still too little/these hands could hold the world but it'll/never be enough/never be enough- '

He watched Izuku until the end of the song before going to take the seat between Kaminari and Izuku's bag. As discreetly as possible, trying to make it look like he was getting into his own bag, he carefully slid the beanie into Izuku's bag.

Then he went to grab for his skates. An image flashed passed his eyes. Crimson blood on stark white ice. Fear and pain in forest green eyes. Tears on freckled cheeks. A young girl’s hand clutched in his as he used his pheromones to calm her.

"Kacchan, you made it!"

Sucking in a sharp breath and doing his best to calm the sharp rise and fall of his chest, he glanced at Izuku leaning over the wall. The omega's cheeks were flushed, pushed up high on his face from the force of his smile.

"I was worried you weren't going to."

There was a subtle undertone to his words, something that went along with the song that was now repeating through the speakers. Katsuki swallowed, and squeezed his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He couldn't practice with Izuku tonight, couldn't touch him, not in his state. He'd fuck up. Make a mistake. Get them both hurt. He shouldn’t have come.

He pulled his hands away from his bag. "Had an emergency during lessons. One of my students got hurt. Phone died." His sentences were clipped, short, just fragments that lacked any of his usual harsh tone.

"Did you see my program? It's what I had been planning for this year before Mr. Aizawa's announcement."

"Most of it. Missed the first part."

Izuku's smile never faded, but it softened marginally. He pushed away towards the rink entrance, and slid on his guards before moving over to Katsuki to crouch in front of him.

"Do you want to talk about your student? Were they seriously injured?"

Katsuki felt his mouth begin to twitch into a sneer. He forced it down, ignoring the feeling of two extra pairs of eyes on them. This moment felt private, and he wished they were alone so he could just open his mouth and spill his guts. Instead, he just said, "No."

Still, izuku smiled. He didn't stand as he asked, "Will you skate for my blog? My readers are always asking for more videos of you. I'll stay on this side and just record. Can't trust these two to get the proper shots."

Katsuki hadn't known Izuku had talked about him on his blog, and the knowledge made his alpha purr contentedly. The meaning behind Izuku's words took a moment longer to hit. He was offering him an easy way out. Time on the ice alone and an excuse to not be on the ice together for the night. He didn't know if Izuku was doing it on purpose or simply just wanted to let him skate, but the thought sent a ripple of affection through him.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he finally said, yanking his skates from his bag.

…..

Izuku could tell that something was wrong, and he could tell it had something to do with the student that had gotten hurt. He didn't know exactly what was wrong, what was going on inside that blonde head. If he could have opened up Katsuku's brain and climbed in, he would have done it when they were twelve. No, younger. When they'd first met.

But he couldn't. They're relationship was only just getting better, and he didn't think he was allowed to or should push for a more complete answer.

The ice was the only thing he could offer. Still, he was surprised that Katsuki had so easily taken it, but he was thankful that he had.

Standing on the side of the rink while Katsuki queued up the music and pushed out to middle ice, Izuku felt himself grow giddy with anticipation. While he was desperate to feel Katsuki holding him close like he always did while they skated, he'd been waiting for a long time to get a video of Katsuki that wasn't a competition video.

He was almost vibrating as the first cords of the music played through the rink. When the singing began, he sucked in a breath.

' Some people long for a life that is simple and planned/tied with a ribbon/some people won't sail the sea cause they're safer on land/to follow what's written/but I'd follow you to the great unknown- '

' Please, let me not be imagining this ,' Izuku silently prayed every time Katsuki's eyes met his across the ice.

Katsuki's programs were usually sharp and energized and to the point. He was beautiful and skillful when he skated, but he'd never been one for delicacy. Katsuki was almost savage when he skated, and Izuku loved that about him.

Now though, Katsuki was skating like he was dancing ballet, all strong purposeful movements. All flourishing hand placements and arm sweeps.

And the look on his face was one of painful longing. ' So I risk it all just to be with you/And I risk it all for this life we choose- '

Behind Izuku, his attention was drawn to his friends as they whispered.

"Is it weird that they chose songs from the same movie?" Kaminari asked, voice just above a whisper.

Uraraka snorted. "I think it's weirder that Bakugou has watched The Greatest Showman more than anything else."

Izuku allowed for just a bare second to glance over his shoulder at them. "Shh," he hissed before swiveling back. He fell back into the skating without trouble, but something in the back of his brain wanted to tell his friends to leave. This program felt far too personal for them to be watching. Not only that, but Izuku almost wanted to be the only one to ever have seen it. He wanted to have this part of Katsuki all to himself even if he knew he'd never be allowed such a thing.

When Katsuki glided over, cheeks glowing and eyes looking more grounded than they had before, he asked, "Is that what you were hoping for?"

Staring Katsuki straight in the eye, he whispered, "More. Far more."

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #omega!izuku #alpha!katsuki #figure skater au #no quirks au #my writing #sharpen your blades

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softest-cinnamon-roll · 4 years

Note

reddie 38?

38. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” - feat. figure skater Eddie and ice hockey player Richie.

* * * * *

As the music poured through the speakers, Eddie focused on his movements as he skated across the ice, twirling and jumping when the routine called for it. Ever since he was little, being on the ice had been his dream. He had grown up watching the skaters on the TV, begging his mother and father to enrol him in classes, which they eventually did. Now, sixteen years later he was twenty one and heading straight for the Olympics.

That is, if he could master the damn double axel jump.

It wasn’t that he couldn;t do the jump, because he could just fine. It was the landing that he was having difficulty with, with every attempt it was a stumble or an ungraceful landing, which was beginning to annoy the hell out of his mother. She wasn’t even his coach, but because she was the one paying for his lessons and rink time, she believed her opinion overruled everyone else's, even his coach’s.

“Edward, for goodness sake, I’m not paying for you skate like a hippopotamus! I pay for you to skate like a swan, glide across the ice, land as though it's no effort at all! You’ll never qualify for the Olympics skating like that!” His mother screamed through the auditorium and Eddie came to a halt on the side of the rink, breathing heavily.

He looked up at his mother, who was red in the face next to his horrified coach. Normally, his mother kept her more...insulting comments to when it was just him and her in the rink, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. His coach, Maggie Tozier, whipped her head around to face Sonia, a scowl on her face. “Mrs Kasprak, if you are going to treat my skater like that I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The look on his mother’s face told Eddie that she was about to set off. She squared up Maggie and crossed her arms, “I’m the one paying for your time here, therefore I’m not leaving. If I want to give my son some tough love then I will, it’s a harsh world out there and sometimes he needs some harsh criticism so he can be better!”

“Or maybe your words will make him worse, because he won’t stop trying to please you,” Maggie snapped back, not backing down. Their arguing seemed to gain the attention of Mr Corcoran, the owner of the rink, who stuck his head out of his office and pointed to one of the private rooms away from the rink.

Eddie watched with a sigh as both his mother and his coach walked down towards the room, the door slamming behind them. Silence filled the rink and Eddie at least had peace for a few moments while they fought over the best way to teach him skating. He was just about to skate over to the music and attempt the jump again when someone from the other side of the rink called his name.

He turned around and when he saw the owner of the voice, Eddie’s cheeks turned a light pink. It was his coach’s son, Richie Tozier, who was also one of the stars of the Derry Ice Hockey Team. He wasn’t dressed in his gear yet, but his bag was slunk over his shoulder, which meant Eddie’s rink time was coming to an end. He smiled and skated over, placing his hands on the edge of the rink. “Hey, Richie.”

“Hey there, Spaghetti,” Richie grinned back, glancing around the bleachers of the rink. “Where is everyone? Not often I get the chance to speak to you alone with either your mom or my mom scolding me for distracting you.”

Eddie sighed once more, rolling his eyes, “They are arguing...again. This time it’s about the best way to tell me that I suck.” He shrugged and Richie’s eyes widened. “Not- not that your mom said that I suck or anything, but my mom? She thinks I’m a hippo because I can’t land the double axel smoothly.”

Richie blinked and tilted his head to the side, “You mean the most difficult jump in skating? You mean the one my mom only really introduced you to a few weeks ago? That jump?” He asked and Eddie nodded his head. “Damn, your mother is brutal Eds, no offence.” He smiled. “If it is any consolation to you, I think you are the best skater that my mom has ever taken on. None of the others ever made as much progress or are as half as motivated as you are.”

At that, Eddie lit up, trying to contain his smile as best as he could. He wasn’t going to deny it, Eddie had a huge ass crush on Richie, and he was pretty sure that Richie felt the same way about him. The only thing really keeping them apart was Sonia and her stink eye whenever Richie so much as breathed in Eddie’s direction. For some reason, since the moment they met, his mother had developed a hatred for Richie, even though his mother was Eddie’s coach. In Eddie’s opinion, it made no sense.

Richie was smiling at Eddie, a smile that was only really reserved for him, and he opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but he never got the chance as his mother’s shrill voice screamed through the rink. “EDWARD!” Eddie whipped his head around to see Sonia barging towards them, Maggie close on her tail. She approached Richie and jabbed one of her chubby fingers into his chest. “What have I told you, keep away from my son. All you’ll do is distract him and my Eddie doesn’t need any distractions if he is going to be a champion.”

“Get your hands off of my son, Sonia. What have I told you before,” Maggie hissed as she appeared behind them. “Richie, please go to the locker room and get ready for practice. Zack will be here soon and he’ll want you all on the rink and ready to go.”

With a sigh, Richie nodded and turned to head to the locker room. He stopped a few steps away and turned back around. “I know you don’t like me very much, and that’s fine, but you really shouldn’t treat Eddie like crap. He is a fantastic skater, and by putting him down the way you do, you’re the one most likely to distract him.” He turned to Eddie, who was still on the ice, staring at him in shock and awe. “See you around, Eds.” He winked and turned away, heading to the locker room.

Once he was out of sight, both his mother and Maggie turned to face Eddie. Before his mother could speak up though, Maggie stepped forward, “Your mother has agreed to stop attending our lessons together. In order to give you more time to focus with me on the ice. She will still come with you to your private sessions when she can though.” She smiled. “Hit the locker room, practice is over for the day and the Ice Resurfacer needs to clean the ice for the Hockey Team. We’ll work on that jump tomorrow, okay?”

Eddie nodded his head and, ignoring his mother, he skated to the edge of the rink and towards the other locker room to change. On his way there, he passed by the Hockey Team’s private locker room and happened to overhear his name being mentioned. Unable to stop himself from listening in, Eddie moved a little closer.

“You still haven’t told him? Damn Rich, this is getting insane.” Bill Denbrough spoke and Eddie could just tell he was rolling his eyes. “You come to practice early every day just so you can get a chance to either watch him skate or flirt with him until your mom...or his mom, chases you away. Just tell him and put us out of our misery.”

What could they be talking about? What did Richie need to tell him? He didn’t get a chance to think too much over it, as Richie spoke up. “Oh really Bill, and what do you suggest I say? “Oh hey Eddie! Why haven’t you kissed me yet? I’m crazy ‘bout ya!” He heard Richie sigh heavily. “We’re friends and I don’t...I don’t want to distract him. He deserves to qualify for the Olympics in the trials next month.”

Eddie didn’t stay to hear any of the rest, as he could hear his mother's voice approaching. Quickly, he dodged into the locker room and changed out of his outfit and back into his normal clothes, running a hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed red and a smile was threatening to appear. Richie liked him back. Richie wanted to kiss him.

As he left the locker room, the Hockey Team were leaving theirs, heading to the rink to start their practice. His mother was by the door, waiting for him and he caught Richie’s eye as they walked past each other. Then, Eddie stopped and turned back around, “Richie! Wait!”

Richie stopped and turned around, his brows furrowed in confusion as Eddie approached him. He bit his lip and finally let himself smile as he pushed up on his toes, settling his hands on Richie’s shoulders and pressing their lips together in a soft, first kiss.

Immediately, all the boys started to holler and wolf whistle, causing Eddie to pull back with a flush on his cheeks, matching Richie’s own. “Eds?” He breathed, ignoring all his teammates. “You- what?”

“Dinner, you and me, tomorrow after practice?” Eddie asked and Richie nodded, almost dumbfounded, but he finally broke into a grin.

“Pick you up at seven Spaghetti,” he winked, just as Zack Denbrough whistled for them all to get on the ice or they would be facing some serious warm ups. He backed away, unable to take his eyes off of Eddie.

Eddie bit his lip and blew Richie a kiss, getting out a giggle as RIchie jumped into the air and caught it, pressing his fist to his lips and he waved softy. “I can’t wait.”

* * * * *

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#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #prompts #writing tag

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bordeleaubeau · 4 years

Text

when worlds collide - ryder donovan

chapter two wc: 6868

you pull the black sweatshirt over your body, the duluth east logo spread across the front, along with hounds hockey’ written across it. you swapped your black leggings for a pair of dark washed jeans, deciding you look decent enough for ryder’s game. you keep your hair down, running your fingers through it before grabbing your phone out of your pocket to send a mirror photo to ryder.

y/n: attachment: 1 image

how do i look?

rydes dono: rydes dono loved an image incredible

y/n: sorry, i’m probably messing up your pregame stuff, aren’t i?

rydes dono: not at all. i only just got to the rink, i’m not even in the locker room yet, no worries y/n/n

y/n: good, because i thought you also deserved to see a photo of our girl. i figured we could use it in our scrapbook thingy

attachment: 1 image

you send ryder a photo you had taken of saylor, where you grabbed an old hat you had from one of your american girl dolls and placed it on saylor’s head, along with a little button up jacket.

rydes dono: she almost looks as good as her mama

y/n: oh shush, donovan. don’t you have a hockey game to warm up for?

rydes dono: okay okay fine, i’ll let you go since you’re so eager to. sit as close to the glass as you can on the visiting side, and then i’ll meet you in the lobby after the game got that?

y/n: sounds perfect to me. see you after donovan:)

rydes dono: see you y/n

y/n: oh, and try to go easy on my dad, will you?

rydes dono: no promises;)

you find yourself smiling at your phone. your dad had already left about an hour ago, and all you were waiting for now was for josie to tell you she was here with kennedy. once you got that text from her, you were grabbing your lanyard and your baby carrier with saylor in it. william was long gone as well, along with your mother, leaving you the last to leave the house.

“there’s our favorite future donovan!” josie yells out her driver’s side window as soon as you step out of the house. you shake your head with a smile trying to hide your blush as you go to get into the back seat.

“oh come on, y/n. you gotta give us more details. because i’ve been on the edge of my seat since you told us about class today,” kennedy says, looking over her shoulder at you as josie pulls out of your driveway. of course, the second you had told kennedy about the little incident - or moment, rather - in child development, kennedy went insane. as predicted.

you heave out an exaggerated sigh, grabbing your phone from the pocket of ryder’s sweatshirt and opening it to your messages thread with him, then handing your phone to kennedy. as soon as she sees the name at the top her eyes are lighting up.

she starts mumbling the texts you guys were sending back and forth, and a gasp falls from her lips. “y/n m/n!” kennedy screeches, whipping around in her seat to shove your phone in your face, as if you didn’t already know what the text messages say. you have a shy smile on your face. “he likes you, you big idiot!”

“i wanna know!” josie yells, stopping at a stop light. “gimme her phone, i wanna see!” kennedy hands josie your phone, and josie starts yelling just as loud as ken had been. “kennedy’s right! i don’t know why you’re saying he doesn’t!”

“okay, okay, gimme my phone,” you giggle holding your hand out for josie to give you your phone as the light turns from red to green. you see ryder had snapped you, so you open up snapchat and see ryder along with logan and ricky. ryder is in the middle of laughing, ricky is smirking and logan is grinning like a fool. you can’t help but screenshot the photo. “look at our boys!” you give your phone right back to kennedy who begins to squeal.

“look at logan!” she gushes, and from the backseat you can see the grin on the blonde’s face.

josie pulls into the parking lot of the duluth heritage sports center, looking over her shoulder at you with a smile. “ready to see your baby daddy?”

“shut up!” you laugh, reaching forward to hit josie’s arm. the three of you get out of the car, you reaching over to grab saylor’s carrier. you walk into the arena with the girls by your side, already earning a few weird looks from people in the lobby. “i knew this was gonna happen.” you grumble.

josie sighs, “they’re just judgemental people, y/n. don’t worry about it. it’s not like the baby is real or anything.”

“ryder likes to think so,” you roll your eyes at the thought, following the girls to the ticket booth to buy your tickets for the east game. once all three of you have your tickets you walk into the rink that’s still fairly empty, going straight towards the front row behind east’s net.

“i know dono wanted us by denfeld, but, that’s not gonna happen,” kennedy sighs, getting comfortable in the seat to the left of you and pulling out her phone, smiling when she saw that logan had snapped her. “look!”

you and josie both giggle at the blonde's reaction, watching her blushing cheeks as she fumbled to unlock her phone. she opens the snap and her smile widens, angling her phone towards you to see the photo of ryder and logan. “smile!” kennedy says, and you do so before she snaps the photo and sends it to logan.

“i wouldn’t plan on him answering you, kenny. boys got a pregame schedule, you know that,” you advise her and kennedy nods, knowing exactly what you meant. kennedy wasn’t exactly a stranger when it came to hockey boys.

“yeah, he sent me that ten minutes ago. they’re probably gonna get ready to- never mind!” kennedy starts to giggle as the red box appears next to logan’s name, and then you feel your phone buzz in your hand.

rydes dono:

tell kennedy she’s throwing my boy off, he can’t stop smiling at his phone

you laugh out loud, quickly typing a response.

y/n: as if i’m not throwing you off yours? ryder donovan aren’t you supposed to be warming up soon?

rydes dono: been thrown off since you sent me that photo an hour ago, not gonna lie y/n/n

rydes dono: and only gonna be more thrown off when we come out to warm up, that im sure of

“would you look at that! ryder donovan, flirting with you in plain sight. come on, y/n. even a blind person would be able to see that,” josie says as she reads your texts from over your shoulder, a smug smirk on her face. “god, you’re both goners.”

y/n: don’t blow it, dono. it’s a big game for you guys.

it’s only a matter of time before the rink starts to really fill up. you’re minding your own business, looking down at your phone before kennedy starts to repeatedly hit your arm. “y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n!” she squeals, pointing up towards the walk way the teams normally warm up on.

sure enough, ryder is leading his team out to start their warm ups and logan is right behind him. you watch as ryder slowly starts to scan the home section, and once his eyes land on you you watch as a smile crosses his lips. he stops dead in his tracks causing logan to run into his back, and then logan shoves ryder to get him moving. you watch their lips move, but of course you can’t hear what they’re saying, but ryder shakes his head and laughs as he begins to lead the boys in leg stretches.

“okay, that was adorable,” josie smiles over at you. “he’s got it bad, y/n. and i’m the first one to call it.”

kennedy’s mouth drops open and she leans forward to look at josie, “nu uh! i was. cool it, jose. i called the first shot.” kennedy pouts, her arms crossing over her chest. but regardless of how annoyed she is, her eyes are trained on logan and there’s a smile forming on her face.

“y/n!” you hear the voice of the girl you expected to be here, but hoped to god she wouldn’t be. her hand rests on your shoulder and you turn around to face her. “love the sweatshirt. surprised ryder would actually let you wear it, you know, he doesn’t give his sweatshirts to just anyone. i think i would know.”

your eyes narrow at the brunette girl, “someone’s jealous she’s never worn dono’s sweatshirt, isn’t she?” you ask keira, and besides her one of her friends has to hold back her laugh.

“yeah, no. dono’s not exactly my speed… anymore.” keira rolls her eyes before sitting back in her seat allowing you to face forward once again.

“just ignore her, y/n. chances are she’s lying,” kennedy mumbles next to you, low enough that keira can’t hear you. “plus, would ryder even go for a girl like her? i highly doubt it. you’re much better than her, and i don’t think i’m biased.” kennedy’s nose is turned up, a sweet smile on her face.

“thank you ken, i love you.”

“love you too, y/n/n.”

you smile at kennedy, looking down at your phone as you feel a buzz.

rydes dono: was keira giving you any trouble?

y/n: what do you mean? and you’re not supposed to be on your phone right now

rydes dono: i saw her talking to you. just let me know if she says anything to you alright? i’ll deal with her

y/n: got it. talk to you after the game, rydes. and good luck:)

rydes dono: thank you y/n. i’ll see you after, and that sweatshirt still better be on.

you can feel the presence of your two best friends looking over both of your shoulders. “you’re delusional, y/n. i swear.” josie shakes her head, arms crossing over her chest as she stares out towards the ice where the boys were bound to come out at any moment.

“do you guys not realize how flirty ryder is? he’s like this with everyone. at this point you guys are really just getting my hopes up.”

“y/n that boy took one glance at you and he fell head over heels - should i say skates? for you.”

“kenny, you’re the one with a little bit of inside knowledge, why don’t you spill?” josie asks, leaning forward to look at the blonde. kennedy looks like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and frozen in place. she had been caught. “kennedy ann. if you don’t tell us all the information you have right now i’m not buying you caribou on monday.”

kennedy’s eyes glane around, her eyes lighting up when she thinks of an excuse. “i have to go to the bathroom!” she announces rather loudly in the rink, rising from her seat. you grab the fabric of her sweatshirt and yank her back down in the seat.

“kenny if you leave now you’ll miss logs come out for warm ups. you don’t want that, do you?” you cock your head to the side, waiting for kennedy’s reaction. she lets out a sigh, sinking into her seat, folding her arms in her chest. “that’s what i thought.”

“yeah yeah, whatever,” the blonde grumbles under her breath, eyes glued to where the boys would eventually come out for their warm ups. “but just so you know? my lips are sealed.” kennedy puts her thumb and index finger to her lips, mimicking a zipper across her lips before folding her arms across her chest once more.

“so, big sister. did our boy william give his jersey to any lucky girl tonight?” josie asks, and as if it would help, you turn around in your seat into the sea or black and red. everyone pretty much looks the same, and you suck in a breath.

“yeah, i dunno, actually. i’d assume he’d tell me, but, who really knows? will doesn’t really like giving his jerseys out, it’s a superstition type of thing i guess you could call it.” before josie could respond, because obviously kennedy wouldn’t be, you hear saylor start to cry at your feet.

“duty calls, mama,” josie smirks as you reach down to pick up the baby. you let out a sigh, and as if the timing couldn’t be any more perfect, that’s the moment the boys run out to the ice.

you rock the doll in your arms as you grab the set of colored keys, grabbing the blue one for food and holding it up to the doll's chest. you look up at the ice, eyes glued to the number 22 for a few seconds, but your attention then goes back to saylor who’s still crying. you then grab the yellow key for a diaper change, and just like that she stops crying.

you place her back in the carrier, and when you look back up, ryder is skating by, eyes glued to you as he does so. “look, look, look, look!” kennedy squeals from beside you, her hands repeatedly slapping your fabric covered arms. “look at logan!” her cheeks flush pink as she watches the dirty blonde skate right behind ryder, a smile mirrored to ryder’s on her face.

“thought your lips were sealed, kennedy?” you ask smugly, and as soon as kennedy realizes she had said something she lets out a groan, her head falling back in her seat.

“did we really think it was going to last that long, y/n/n?” josie has an amused smile on her face, clearly entertained at the fact kennedy didn’t even last a full five minutes. you shake your head, eyes scanning the ice for the number 17, and when you spot william, of course he’s glued to ryder’s hip as they sit in the neutral zone to do stretches together.

“look at him,” you pout, pointing to where the two boys are, and it isn’t too long before logan skates up right next to them making sure to cover them in snow.

“look at him!” kennedy mimics you, her eyes doe like as she stares at the boy she fancied for nearly two years now. ken lets out a blissed sigh, like she always did, and keeps her eyes trained on logan. but you can’t blame her, because you’re doing the exact same thing for ryder.

you watch the boys as they warmed up, going through their normal sequence of doing shooting drills, their own stick handling, and stretches. ryder ends up right in front of you behind the net with a pile of pucks, passing them out to the two lines the boys formed to do one timers.

ryder starts to skate slowly, his eyes scanning over their side of the eyes spending a few seconds looking over his team. that doesn’t last too long, however, as ryder is looking to the right and logan comes up from the left, hitting ryder into the boards right in front of where you and the girls are sitting. the two boys laugh, both of their heads turning to look at you and kennedy. your eyes meet ryder’s and he gives you a soft smile, gloved hand raising off his stick to wave at you. you give your own shy wave to ryder before he gives you one last smile and skates away with logan behind him.

william is the next of the pack to make his appearance, a huge smile on his face as he skates past making sure to wave at the three of you. he stops besides logan and ryder, the three of them talking before william skates off to garrett.

eventually, warm ups end and both teams leave the ice so they can zam it. you watch your dad walk off the visitor’s bench and into the locker room, already knowing this game wasn’t going to end well. you hear kennedy sigh, “gosh, our boys are so cute.”

“your boy is so cute,” you correct her, earning a pout from kennedy. “what? i’m not wrong. logan’s your boy.”

“and ryder is yours whether you like that or not,” josie points out and you glare at her. “what? i’m not wrong?” she mocks you. “come on. ryder would not interact with you like that if he didn’t have some feelings towards you.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “i’ll believe it when he tells me. and he wont.” you say, giving the brunette a pointed look before you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

rydes dono: that picture didnt do you any justice y/n

y/n: what’s that supposed to mean? and ryder, get off your phone, i’m serious. you are not going to get in trouble because of me.

rydes dono: you look better in person than the photo. and dont worry about me

y/n: too late i am. i’ll text will to get you off your phone

rydes dono: okay fine i’m going i’m going! bye y/n, i’ll see you after the game.

y/n: see you ryder

“oh come on, you have that smile on your face and you’re trying to tell us you don’t like him and that he doesn’t like you? that’s bull, y/n.” josie grabs your phone out of your hand, scrolling to look at your messages, stopping at the ones from earlier again. “seriously, y/n.” with a shake of her head josie locks your phone and hands it back to you.

“he’s telling you without telling you. he isn’t upfront with his emotions, so this is his way of saying it,” kennedy says, trying her best to get through to you. “being friends with logan has its perks, you know. i know more about ryder than you think i do.”

“guys can we please not talk about this right now? at least not when i’m here. i’ll be back, i’m just gonna go grab a drink i guess.” without another word you get up from your seat, exit your row and start up towards the stairs that lead out to the main concourse.

no part of you wants to believe ryder actually likes you. because you know in the end, chances are you’d get hurt. that’s the type of guy you thought ryder was - pure happiness in the moment but it would only be a matter of time.

you let out a sigh walking up to the snack stand, scanning the options as if you hadn’t already memorized them and couldn’t recite them like the back of your hand. out of the corner of your eye you can see a brunette girl that can’t be any older than fourteen staring at you. you try to ignore her to the best of your ability, but you ultimately fail when you look over at her.

“who are you?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she glances to the number on the sleeve of ryder’s sweatshirt.

you give the girl a skeptical look, glancing towards the line as it slowly moves forward. “who are you?” you retort.

“i asked you first.”

since she glanced to the number, you figured she at least knew who ryder was seeing as that was her main focus. “i’m y/n. i’m ryder donovan’s-”

she cuts you off with a gasp, her eyes widening. “you’re y/n! ryder’s partner for that baby thing!” she exclaims, and as soon as the words leave her lips you can feel the heat on your cheeks.

“and who are you?”

she smiles, “clara. ryder’s little sister.”

yeah, not exactly how you planned to meet - part of - ryder’s family.

“well it’s nice to meet you clara. i know it’s only a little project we’re doing together, but it’s still nice to meet at least one of ryder’s siblings,” you give her a smile, taking a step forward as the line moves forward once again. “do you want anything?” you ask, gesturing towards the snack stand. she’s hesitant. “come on, clara. it’s the least i can do.”

clara lets out a sigh with a smile on her face. “i’ll make sure ryder pays you back, okay? but an icee sounds really good right now.”

“good choice, girlfriend. that’s exactly what i was gonna get,” you smile down at the young girl. “what flavor?”

“blue raspberry please. if you like any other flavor you’re insane,” she jokes and you can’t help but let out a laugh.

you step forward since you’re ready to order, ordering you and clara both medium sized icees and handing the cashier a five dollar bill. you drop the change into the tip jar and it only takes a few seconds before you’re handed the icees and you give one to clara.

“thank you, y/n,” she smiles gratefully at you and you nod. “you know, i’m a little shocked he gave you this.” clara gestures towards your sweatshirt and you can’t help but let out a laugh as the two of you walk through the concourse.

“you know, that’s what everyone has been saying.”

clara shrugs as she sips on her icee, the brims of her mouth already starting to turn a vibrant blue. “it’s the truth. ryder doesn’t let anyone wear his hockey clothes. he doesn’t even let me! and between you and me, i’m his favorite.”

“clara i like you already,” you laugh, nudging the girl in her ribs gently. “i’ll walk you to where you’re sitting okay?”

clara nods and you do exactly as she says, waving to the small brunette that resembled ryder in an uncanny way. you walk back to your seat, not even noticing the grin on your face until kennedy pointed it out.

“what’s got you so smiley, y/n/n? because ryder wasn’t out there.” kennedy teases. you had been gone so long they already cut the ice and the boys were out waiting for the opening face off.

“yeah, your smile is kinda freaking me out. not gonna lie,” josie mumbles, stealing a sip of your icee. “still cannot understand how you drink blue raspberry.”

you ignore josie’s comment, “i met ryder’s little sister. and she’s the sweetest thing ever.” you smile, eyes trained on ryder as he goes to take the opening faceoff. your two best friends both gasp and you grin. “so that happened.”

“did she know who you were?” kennedy asks as the game goes officially underway. the three of you keep your eyes on the ice, but still focused on each other.

“that’s the thing,” you smile to yourself. “she saw the sweatshirt. so i said my name and i started to say how i was ryder’s partner, but she already knew that. so either all he did was talk about the project to his family or he actually talked about me.”

“it’s also not uncommon to know you, y/n/n. you’re will’s sister. instead of people ging up to will and saying, ‘you’re y/n’s little brother!’ you get, ‘you’re will’s older sister!’” you laugh at josie because she was absolutely 100% right. will was on pace for a sixty point season - as a freshman. in high school.

your eyes go to the number 17, watching as will skates up to hit a player on denfeld - and will isn’t the smallest either, so you watch as the boy in white falls to the ice. when he falls, it seems like all of east’s student section is on their feet cheering for will as he receives a pass from logan. you and the girls are banging on the boards, a wide smile on your face.

“that’s my baby brother!” you laugh, unable to contain your smile. you look over to the bench, seeing your dad shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. only one that you or will would be able to tell was a smile, though. because to anyone else it would look like a frown.

logan stops quickly, dropping his pass to will who skates behind denfeld’s net and quickly banks the pass to ryder. will scrambles to get in front of the net, battling it out with one of denfeld’s defensemen as ryder takes the slapshot. will jumps to try and get out of the way of ryder’s shot, but his stick tips it right over shawn easty’s right shoulder and into the net.

“will!” you jump up in excitement, everyone along the boards banging on the glass as ryder throws his arms around your younger brother who’s almost as tall as him on skates.

“that’s goal number, what. twenty-five on the season?” josie asks from besides you, her eyes glistening. you turn back to face the ice, watching william go through the handshakes on the bench before the second line goes out. you look to your dad, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh, hand going up to run down his face.

“goal twenty-five of the season.” you confirm before sitting back down in your seat with a smug smile on your face. “ryder wasn’t joking when he said they were going down tonight.”

kennedy lets out a giggle, “c’mon, y/n. has that kid ever even had a bad game a day in his life? it’s ryder freaking donovan for crying out loud!”

the first period ends, you having to tend to saylor only once or twice, luckily making you miss the goal denfeld scored to tie the game up at one a piece. but there was still thirty-four minutes of hockey to play, and you had complete faith in ryder and your boys.

just like normal, you and the girls talk amongst each other and scroll through your phones. if the boys were able, you’d text will and ryder about how they both played an amazing first period. but since they wouldn’t be able to, you sit through what feels like an eternity of the girls teasing you.

the second period doesn’t exactly go as planned.

halfway through the second period, denfeld ends up scoring a goal, making them lead 2-1. ryder slams the blade of his stick on the bench out of frustration, his head shaking and you can see him yell a few colorful words before he jumps over the bench. you couldn’t blame him - the defense had been struggling that night.

“they’ve got time, y/n. plenty of time,” josie reassures you, placing her hand on top of yours and giving you a quick smile. you nod, knowing she’s right. but every minute that goes by, the chances of the boys winning dwindle down. even with there being twenty minutes after the third period - denfeld would have most of the momentum to try and finish it off.

you just pray will doesn’t get into his own head. if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to live up to his potential and his normal game. and this was the game he really needed it, because you knew that boy wanted to show your dad in the worst way what he was capable of - and if it had to be against his own team, so what? makes even more of a statement. if there was anything one needed to know about william, it was that he loved making statements.

when the boys come out for the third period, ryder makes his quick one lap around their side of the ice. when he he passes by you he gives you a soft smile, before once again, going to take the opening faceoff for the period. a clean win for ryder and he passes it back to logan, who then attempts a pass to ryan but it gets intercepted by a denfeld forward who then breaks away towards lukan.

lukan is in position, shuffling along and following where cole olson was skating. but lukan isn’t enough for cole, who’s release is quicker than he originally anticipated. the puck flies over his shoulder, and at the opposite side of the rink denfeld’s student section goes wild.

“it’s over.”

“kennedy don’t say that!” you sigh, but you can’t help think of it yourself. the boys are exhausted from rushing from each side of the ice, and you weren’t sure if they’d be able to keep up for the remaining seven minutes of the period.

coach randolph shakes his head and his hand rubs over his mouth before he calls for a time out. surprisingly enough, he doesn’t yell at his team and quickly draws out a game plan for them. when the ref blows the whistle, ryder’s line goes out for a center ice draw.

ryder takes a quick little turn around center ice before he sets up for the face off. he loses it, denfeld’s center passing it back to a defenseman. will ends up pickpocketing him, passing the puck to logan and letting logan enter the offensive zone. he dekes the defenseman and fakes his shot to the right of the goalie, but tucks it in on the left.

“that’s my boy!” kennedy squeals, her arms wrapping around you out of excitement as she jumps up and down. “he said he was gonna score for me tonight. and he did!”

you laugh, pulling away from the blonde. “he did,” you confirm, glancing up to the scoreboard. there were two minutes left and east was only down by one. so if they were able to pull this off, you’d go to overtime and hopefully finish the job. but anything can happen.

“they’re gonna do this, they have to,” josie mumbles to herself seeming as if she’s trying to convince herself more than anything. you grab her hand as ricky’s line goes out, squeezing it hard.

the clock continues to tick down, the puck seeming to stay more in the neutral zone more than anything, but once the boys are able to get it into denfeld’s zone it’s like they’re trying anything and anything. but easty is able to stop and block mostly all the pucks that he faces - until ricky tucks the puck in his five hole.

“did he just score?” kennedy asks in disbelief, her eyes staying on the ice before she finally pulls them away to look at you and josie who mirrored her expression. but judging by ricky’s celly, he had most definitely scored, and the refs weren’t calling it off.

“holy shit.”

the clock ticks down until the end of regulation leaving for what would for sure be an end-of-your seat worthy overtime period. randolph of course starts out with ryder, will, and grant as their starting three. right away, denfeld is starting down towards lukan, but he makes a quick glove save allowing a quick little rest for the boys. ryder wins the faceoff, passes it to grant before grant is starting down the ice. he passes the puck to will, who goes to pass to ryder, but then will gets tripped and slides right into easty in front of you. the whistle blows, but one of denfeld’s players immediately goes to roughhouse with will.

“he didn’t do anything!” kennedy screams as if the boys could hear her through the glass. “god you’re a fucking idiot, aren’t you?”

you shake your head at kennedy, but your eyes then go to ryder who yanks the denfeld player off will. he doesn’t hesitate to cross check the kid and exchange a few words with, and for a split second you were worried ryder would actually end up fighting the kid. but he was smarter than that.

the ref breaks the two of them up and points ryder in the direction to the penalty box. you read ryder’s lips, who lets out an, “are you fucking kidding me?” before taking his helmet off and running his hand through his hair.

yeah, it was a sight.

“look at him,” josie sighs, and you look over at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“please, jose. back off my baby daddy.”

kennedy and josie both let out ear piercing screeches and you shake your head with a smile at the two of them, surely not doubting the fact your cheeks were surely flaming red. you bite back your smile, your attention going to the game unfolding in front of you. a majority of the overtime period is spent in denfeld’s end, but none of the shots seem to go past easty. the time on ryder’s penalty ticks down, and you watch as the puck gets taken back into east’s zone. just as the boys kill the penalty, will gets a hold of the puck and shoots it over to ryder who sprints down the ice on the breakaway.

he’s skating right towards the net, right where you and the girls are sitting, a look of pure determination on his face. he dekes out easty, puck going over his shoulder and into the net. you jump up, a grin on your face as ryder spins around, his hand lifting off his stick to point to you. you bang on the boards as he skates over, his back hitting the boards as will and grant tackle him in a hug.

will gives you a little wave as your student section goes crazy before the boys all go to high five the bench. then they do post game handshakes, and then you, kennedy, and josie are headed out to the lobby where you told the boys you’d meet them.

“that was crazy! did you see that move, y/n! the hands on that kid, wow, i just-”

you cut kennedy off in the middle of her excitement by placing a hand on her arm. “kenny, breathe. but yes, that was an absolute gorgeous goal. i mean come on, it’s ryder.”

“i wouldn’t expect anything less from the kid, honestly. he pulled through when he needed to,” josie shrugs her shoulders and there’s a smile on her face. “and not to mention ricky’s tying goal.”

“so all three of our boys scored tonight, i see that as a win,” you smile, and of course that’s when saylor starts to cry. you sigh, setting her down on the bench along the wall in the lobby to rock her before grabbing the keys. you fumble with them, grabbing the blue one for food, and she immediately stops crying. “and now, it’s a waiting game.”

like normal, it takes about twenty minutes until the boys slowly start to come out into the lobby to find their friends and family waiting for them. your eyes stay trained to the door, and when you see the blonde haired boy followed by your little brother, you can’t help the grin on your face.

“there’s my superstar,” you smile sheepishly at ryder, who tries to hide his smile by biting his lip.

“i’m not the superstar, willy is,” ryder shakes his head slightly with a smile, logan and ricky both following after him. ryder somewhat shocks you by wrapping his arms around your body, and in turn you wrap your arms around his neck.

before you end up doing something stupid, you pull away from him. “yeah right, says you. you had the game winner. you don’t need to be humble about it rydes.”

ryder rolls his eyes, “i’m serious, y/n. your brother was the star of the show tonight.” he says while running a hand through his still damp hair from his shower.

“both of you were.”

ryder shakes his head and you scowl at him, “nope, all willy. speaking of, you should probably go talk to him and your dad.”

“but rydes,” you pout, your hand fumbling with the fabric of his dress shirt. you ignore the looks you’re sure your friends are giving the both of you, and ryder smiles down at you, hand reaching to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering there for a few more seconds than either of you anticipated.

“sweets, it’s okay. i have to go talk to my family. we’ll meet back here in five minutes, okay?” you still pout, but your cheeks blushing pink at the nickname. ryder’s eyes look over your shoulder where you assume his family is still waiting for him.

“five minutes tops, dono, you got that?” you ask, your pointer finger jammed right on his chest as you look up at him with the most stern look you can muster. but it’s ryder, and he looks right through that.

ryder smiles, his hand wrapping around your wrist to set it back at your side. “okay, y/n/n.”

“okay, i’ll see you in a few.”

“yes you will, and take ken with you. i don’t need logan making googly eyes are her while trying to talk to his family.”

you glance over to kennedy and logan. kennedy is a blushing mess as she talks to logan, and being completely honest? logan doesn’t look that much better either. you smile and then turn back to ryder, “i will, she’ll want to see her superstar anyway. oh and rydes? try not to miss me too much.”

ryder pouts, “i thought i was your superstar. and don’t worry, you’re always on my mind, baby mama.”

you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. “you’re my superstar. meaning you’re only mine. but i share willy.” you say with blushing cheeks. “and don’t try to flatter me, dono.”

“you’re right, i am all yours. and it’s not flattery if it’s the truth, l/n.”

with that, ryder sends you a wink before walking towards his family. “ken, c’mon, we’re gonna go talk to will really quickly.” you call, taking kennedy’s attention away from logan. she pouts, but you raise your eyebrows at her.

“okay, okay! i’ll be right back, log.” she presses a quick kiss to logan’s cheek before she walks over to you. “did you see that, did you see that?” she giggles like a school girl that had her first kiss. “but y/n, you’re coming with us to old chicago by the way. ryder was gonna ask you to go.”

you smile, trying to bite your lip. “got it.” you reach your family, and just like you had suspected there’s a bit of tension. but that doesn’t mean you hesitate on throwing your arms aroun your little brother. “willy you played so good buddy.”

will laughs in your arms, wrapping his own around you. “thanks, y/n/n. it was a great game to play in.”

when the two of you pull away you allow kennedy to hug your brother while you hug your dad. “sorry daddy. you guys had your moment.” you joke with him and he gives you a half hearted smile.

“it’s okay, honey. win some you lose some. but do you have any plans after or are you gonna go home with us?” your dad asks, and you look over at kennedy hoping your parents wouldn’t see your blushing cheeks.

“oh lord,” your mother sighs, but nonetheless there’s a smile on your face. “what’s that look for?”

“jose, ken and i are gonna go out to eat i think, right ken?” you ask and kennedy nods. “of course if that’s okay with you guys.”

you mom shrugs before she looks over at your dad. “i don’t see why not. just make sure you’re home by midnight okay?”

you’re nodding right away. “okay momma. i’ll see you guys later. bye, i love yous!” you blow a kiss to your family and kennedy says her goodbyes before heading back over to the group where the boys all came back from talking to their families. logan nudges ryder and he looks up, a smile on his lips when he sees you.

“i’d like to let you know, y/n/n, you took five minutes and ten seconds.” ryder says, half smirking as he puts his phone into the back pocket of his dress pants.

you roll your eyes with a smile as you reclaim your spot right next to him. “oh shut up rydes.”

“i’m just saying.” ryder puts his hands up in defense, and you shake your head laughing at him before you look up at him with a smile.

“but i’m here now, and that’s what matters right?”

“right.”

“that’s what i thought rydey,” you can’t even get the nickname out without blushing, and you watch as ryder’s face turns pink as he smiles.

“let’s just go get food.” he shakes his head laughing. “and i hope that’s okay with you, because we’re forcing you to come with.”

you shake your head, “it’s not force if i wanna go, is it rydes?”

ryder chuckles, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “well then why aren’t we in my car already?”

“what are you waiting for, dono? lets go.”

chapter three

#ryder donovan #ryder donovan x reader #ryder donovan imagine #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes #spencer knight #alex turcotte #wisconsin hockey #wisco hockey #usntdp #team usa #team usa hockey

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

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Stark On Ice: Starker Figure Skating AU Chapter 1

Summary: Six months ago, the broadcasters asked Tony to participate in Celebrity Spin-Off; an annual TV series where celebrities get paired up with a professional figure skater and compete against each other. Well, he’d laughed in their faces, wondering why they’d even ask. Were they really that stupid? He had better things to do. “If you can find me a male skater who lets me lead, I’m in,” he’d scoffed sarcastically to brush them off.

He didn't expect them to take his answer seriously.

Masterpost (to be posted) Find On AO3

---

Chapter One: Let Me Entertain You Tony readjusts his jacket as he walks into the large building that is the Midtown Ice Arena. It’s a few minutes before 7 AM, and he already downed a triple espresso on his way here - amusedly ignoring Happy’s complaints about it being so damn early. He will give the man a raise soon. Tony can’t say he’s a morning person, but having to get up this early every single day for three months in a row helps to get used to it. Today is different, though. He feels jittery and on-edge just thinking about today’s events. It’s the final rehearsal. Tonight he’s going to skate in front of the entirety of the States. He knows many people won’t even bother to watch the TV series, but the idea has him slightly nauseous anyway. His first live show…

Live show.

Tony chuckles sarcastically at himself as he sits down on one of the benches in the changing room. Live show. Six months ago, the broadcasters asked him to participate in Celebrity Spin-Off; an annual TV series where celebrities get paired up with a professional figure skater and compete against each other. Well, he’d laughed in their faces, wondering why they’d even ask. Were they really that stupid? He had better things to do. “If you can find me a male skater who lets me lead, I’m in,” he’d scoffed sarcastically to brush them off.

He’s still not sure why they took his answer seriously, but they had. Tony Stark doesn’t back out of a promise, though. So, here he is, lacing up his skates after three months of intensive training, ready to work through his choreo together with his assigned partner Peter Parker. From what Tony’s heard, Peter is a pretty big deal in the skating world. He’s a sweet, enthusiastic 21-year-old who has enough talent and skill in pair skating to participate in the Olympics, yet he’d chosen not to. Instead, he tours across the US with Stars On Ice, coaches young kids at Midtown, and has a YouTube channel where he and his partner MJ post routines with traditional gender roles reversed. Tony admires Peter’s passion. The man doesn’t like other people very fast, but Peter was something else entirely. He’s endearing in a way. It’s easy to like him. Which, thank god, is a positive thing. They’ve had to train together for a minimum of eighteen hours for the past three months - both on ice and off. Tony had been surprised to see that the theory classes and off-rink practice were just as important.

When Tony finishes lacing up his skates he walks towards the rink, finally knowing how to do that without looking like a waddling duck. A smile creeps onto his face when he spots his partner on the ice already. The boy moves around ever so graciously, practicing his triple axel. A few days prior, Peter told him he hadn’t done it in a while, and he and MJ intend to use it in their new YouTube tutorial, so he’s been wanting to perfect his landing. It’s not like he pops it, but the boy isn’t content very easily. Tony enjoys watching him rehearse no matter how he lands. He’s so beautiful out there. Like he was born to skate. After landing perfectly three times, Peter slows down to give himself a short break, and that’s when he spots Tony at the entrance. The man waves awkwardly and Peter grins. “Mornin’, grumpy-head!” Peter laughs as he skates towards him. “Well, look at you. Always a beaming ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” “You know me too well, Mr. Stark. Hope you didn’t forget to apply your sunscreen today!” Peter jokes, jumping off the ice to give Tony a short hug. Tony hates to admit he likes that Peter greets him like that every single day. The boy isn’t scared of him, unlike most other people. Another reason why Tony likes him. He grunts as a response to the joke and nudges Peter. “Think it’s time to start training. Steve here yet?” Tony asks, looking around to see if he spots their coach. Peter shakes his head. “No, his car broke down a few blocks from Midtown, he’ll be here soon enough. Let’s start warming up so we can dive right into the sequence when he gets here.” “Yes, coach.”

“Why- Why do these outfits have to be so glittery,” Tony jests as he eyes himself in the mirror. He’s wearing a tight and stretchy black button-up with thick, gold seams and shiny gold beads all over it. Thank god his pants are a simple plain black. Peter is adjusting his hair right next to him. The metallic gold tee hugs the boy’s skin so incredibly tight that Tony can’t help his gaze from wandering down a little, peeking at the boy’s gorgeous abs. Peter grins as he follows Tony’s gaze. “Well, I guess that’s why,” Peter retorts, and Tony blushes. He sniffs, staring at his own reflection again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Says the man who asked for a male partner. I still don’t-” “Oh shush,” Tony cuts him off playfully and waves his hand in the air. Peter simply chuckles and finishes styling his curls. They’re silent for a moment and Tony’s thoughts wander. He hadn’t meant to stare like that. Yes, he was bisexual but that doesn’t mean he liked Peter like that. They were already making headlines on entertainment websites. He can’t even imagine what’d happen if they’d actually feel something for each other. That’d be insane and highly unprofessional. The kid is too young, and- No. Tony doesn’t even have to make excuses for himself. Peter is nice. That’s it.

Thinking about them making the news doesn’t exactly settle his nerves. People are interested in them. Tony Stark on skates must be high-end entertainment for many people in itself, but the fact that they’re a male couple… He knows the public’s eye is on them tonight. “So tell me, kid. How does one contain nerves for a show, uh?” Tony asks, trying to keep it casual but failing massively. A gentle smile tugs on Peter’s lips. “Experience. Trusting yourself,” he starts. “You know, Tony. You won’t be flawless tonight. But that’s okay, remember? No one will be. Flawless is not what we aim for. Chemistry. Engaging the public, and-” “-just having fun on the ice,” Tony finishes for him with a nod. Peter has told him this many times before, but the reminder does settle his nerves. Tony’s a beginner, but he’s got the name and his charm. And Peter... They’ve got a pretty good shot. “Exactly. Now, tell me- what are you most nervous about?” “Honestly?” “Well, yes.” “Dropping you.” Peter sighs and takes a step closer to Tony. “You won’t. You’ve only dropped me once, and I wasn’t even hurt. Even if it were to happen, I know how to take a fall. We’ll be alright. You’re one of the best skaters in this competition. You’re gonna ace this.” “Thank you, Pete. Hey, for what it counts, I’m glad you’re my skating partner.” “And I’m glad you’re mine.”

Tony’s throat is dry, his heart beating rapidly in his chest when his fingers tangle into Peter’s. The boy is so close to him, just like during practice. It grounds him. The floor manager smiles at them. “Good luck out there, you ready for it?” Tony nods, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Smile. He should smile. Peter squeezes his hands once and Tony takes a deep breath. He’s got this. They’ve got this. The floor manager signals, “-Standing by…” Oh, God. This is it. Tony sniffs. His hands feel sweaty, his stomach knots together once more. As much as he appears to be comfortable in public, the moment right before always has him on edge. Any moment now. His gaze focused on the floor manager. Waiting for her cue. “And go!”

Tony forces his most charming smile on his face when he skates forward in unison with Peter, the cheers of the audience enveloping him. They stop in the center of the rink and he guides Peter in front of him. The boy’s arms are crossed in front of his chest. Tony puts a hand on Peter’s right shoulder. It’s quiet for a second, but then the familiar tune starts playing and Tony licks his lips. Peter smirks, pushing his skates into the ice to circle around the man, Tony’s gaze tracking him until he’s in front once again.

Hell is gone and heaven’s here There’s nothing left for you to fear Shake your arse come over here Now scream

Peter twirls and presses into Tony’s side. They grin at each other and skate forward, towards the edge of the rink. Tony’s nerves finally settle when he focuses on just how smooth Peter glides over the ice. The loud music cuts off the sounds of their blades crushing the frozen surface beneath them, but Tony hears it in his mind instead. He knows exactly where to turn, where to move. Peter sends him a little nod right before they go into the crossovers. Tony doesn’t like crossovers all that much, it makes him feel stiff and uncoordinated. Yet, somehow his body seems to do it on autopilot today, simply mimicking Peter’s lead.

I’m a burning effigy Of everything I used to be You’re my rock of empathy, my dear

Tony feels powerful in a way, his movements loosening up with every passing second. It’s time for their waltz jump. He turns around to transition into backward crosscuts and then shifts his weight from the right outer edge to the left one, throwing his right leg up in front. He gasps when he feels how smoothly he lifts off the ice. He’s flying through the air, weightless, and a quick glance confirms that Peter is too. When his right foot hits the ice again, he bends his right knee and extends his left leg behind him. The applause envelopes him like a warm blanket and the adrenaline coursing through his veins is an exhilarating sensation. He did it. He did it!

So come on let me entertain you Let me entertain you Let me entertain you

Tony turns around again to find Peter skating in his direction with a proud and goofy grin on his face. Tony’s heart leaps out of his chest when he realizes his partner is just as impressed as he is. Their hands find each other as they increase their speed to make it through another set of crossovers. Tony doesn’t even worry about them anymore at this point. Everything is just fucking amazing.

Let me entertain you Let me entertain you (let me entertain you) So come on let me entertain you (let me entertain you) Let me entertain you (let me entertain you)

Tony takes a deep breath when he realizes it’s time for their lift. He sets off for his continuous three turns and feels how Peter starts leaning into him. The man prepares for the boy to jump up from the ice gracefully. When Peter does so, he easily catches him and they spin into their rotational lift. Tony loves this one - loves to have Peter in his arms bridal style while spinning around and around and around while remembering his words. Don’t be afraid of the speed. Stalling is falling. Tony doesn’t feel like they’re falling. No, it feels like they’re floating, setting off for space.

Come on come on come on come on Come on come on come on come on Come on come on come on come on

Peter moves slightly, indicating it’s time for Tony to help him back down again. They transition into forward strokes toward the center once more and slow down. Their arms are spread wide proudly. Peter then circles Tony just like he did in the beginning, leaning into Tony’s side when the music comes to an end. He can’t help wrapping an arm around him to pull him in closer, bathing in the applause and the cheers that are thrown their way. Oh my god. They pulled it off. He can’t believe they did it. Of course, he doesn’t have Peter’s finesse but fuck. As Peter would say, they aced it. Together.

---

Next Chapter: To Be Posted

#adult peter parker #peter parker #peter x tony #tony x peter #tony stark #ironspider #starker #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #marvel #mcu #stark on ice #au #alternate universe

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trashforhockeyguys · 4 years

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Don’t Hold Me -2- Carter Hart

A/N: The long awaited second part! I’m trying my best to really start working on this, so that I can queue it all up for you guys. I’m pretty excited for where this series is going to go. Just stick with me for a bit

You tried to convince Travis that you didn’t need to go to his game. You’d been to one already this season, and all of the people were too much for you. But he wouldn’t listen, despite the fact that you tried to tell him that you had projects due on Monday, and not that you didn’t love him, but you just couldn’t all of it.

So, you found yourself sitting in the family box, hiding out in the corner, as far away from the rest of the group as you could. Maybe Travis told them to leave you alone, because after a quick round of hello when you walked in, no one said anything else to you.

So, you sat and watched. Anxiety bubbled up during the whole game. You hated watching them play in person because of the feeling you’d get inside the arena. All you could think about was what would happen if one of them got hurt, if Travis got hurt. You didn’t know what you’d do if he got hurt.

“Y/N? Honey? Are you okay over there?” One of the wives finally asked.

You looked up and nodded. You hadn’t realized that a good majority of them were all looking at you. You could feel the worry rippling off of them. You tried to talk yourself out of whatever you were feeling. You found yourself playing with the sleeves of your baggy jersey. Truthfully, you probably wouldn’t have even worn one if Travis hadn’t insisted.

You normally didn’t feel this sick when you were at a game, yet you felt like you might vomit at anytime. You wanted to run, but you couldn’t do that to Travis, or Nolan. They both wanted you here, so for them you’d stay.

Your hands were shaking by the end of the third. You couldn’t calm your nerves for anything. No matter how hard you tried. Your eyes kept dating around the ice, from Travis to Nolan, even to Carter. You couldn’t get your head straight.

When the buzzer sounded. They won at least, but they’d all been pretty beat up during the game. You could tell by the way that Travis was skating around, he was stiff and pain was already starting to set in after a bad hit half way through the second.

You found you way down to all of the guys. Travis was already waiting on you by the time you got down there. He looked alright, but you knew that he was going to feel it all later. You just hoped he’d remember to take advil before he went to bed.

“C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Back to my place,” He shrugged, “I know you have that project due, but I also know your computer is in your bag in your car. So, I promise you can get it done.”

“Why?”

“Ethan was worried. He called before the game. You should probably call him tomorrow, or he might actually fly out here.”

“I’m fine Travis, you don’t need to babysit me. Roomie is gone for the weekend, I think she’s with one of the frat boys. So I’m just going to go back to my room and finish my project.”

“Exactly, you wouldn’t do anything else if I didn’t force you to leave every now and again,” he argued, “Please, I’d feel better if you stayed with me for the weekend. Please?”

“Yeah, c’mon Y/N, please?” Nolan joked, popping up behind Travis.

“You two are worse than toddlers, you do know that, right?”

“So, you’ll come?”

“Fine, Travis, if I say yes will you shut up?”

“Yes. For now.”

You sighed and hauled your bag back onto your shoulder. You hadn’t planned on staying anywhere but your own bed. But you also had clothes already at Travis’s place, because you stayed there so much.

“I’ll meet you two dumbasses there.”

Hour later, you were actually able to finish your project before settling down with the boys, a bottle of beer in hand. Normally you wouldn’t drink, you never liked the idea. But occasionally you’d have one or two with Travis and Nolan, just because they were your boys.

You felt comfortable and at home with them. Truthfully you didn’t know if you’d ever really be able to feel this safe in the presence of guys again. But you knew that when it came to the two of them, they’d never lift a finger to hurt you.

So, you all stayed in the living room together, just enjoying the simplicity of being together. They were the closest thing you had to family here. You loved them in ways that you couldn’t always explain. You didn’t know why you were able to let the two of them in, and no one else. But they were here.

You stayed there all weekend. Laughing with them as they tried to play the Xbox, and failed at it. You let go and just allowed yourself to be. It was easy to do with them. They didn’t judge you or push you. They’d pick you up from as many parties as you tried to go to. They took care of you in ways that you didn’t even realize you needed.

“So what’s your project on?” Travis asked.

“Van Gogh. It’s for my Art History class.”

“I keep forgetting you’re an art major.”

“Yeah well, I am.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

The boys didn’t see you covered in paint or smudges of charcoal and graphite. There were days that almost your whole body would be covered. They often missed you bent over a project in the studio, trying to get a little bit of shading just right.

Sometimes, while you were watching their games from your dorm room, you’d try to sketch them out. Even if it was just a way for you to take a break from whatever project you were working on for school.

Your big brother Ethan used to make fun of the way your face would scrunch up when you were trying to get everything just right. Travis wasn’t unaccustomed to seeing you working hard in the corner after a game was over. Back when they played together, the rest of their teammates loved it when you drew them.

“Done anything new?” Travis asked.

“Nothing worth seeing.”

He sighed and fell back onto the couch, positioning himself in a very strange way before cracking a smile, “Paint me like one of your french girls.”

You busted out laughing and chucked a pillow at him, “Ew. Absolutely not.”

You fell asleep on the couch, practically laying across both boys. You felt safe with them, and you liked that feeling. They were your family, not by blood, but by everything else that matters. They were probably the only things keeping you sane in Philly.

The weeks went by slowly. You’d go to games, hang out with the boys, go to classes, and do it all over again. You liked the routine and you liked being able to spend time with them. Yet, every now and again they’d bring up Carter, and why you acted the way that you did.

Travis knew not to push about it. Nolan was just curious. You did your best to answer what you could. But even you didn’t understand why you acted the way that you did. But something about Carter scared you in a way that you hadn’t experienced before. You weren’t sure what to do about any of it.

The following week was the same. Classes, spending more time in the art studio than you should’ve, and catching a game or two if you were able. If they were home, you’d spend time with Travis and Nolan, mainly because you wanted to avoid your roommate.

However, the only thing that you decided to do differently was go to a coffee shop, two weeks later. Truthfully, you weren’t big on coffee, which was something you got made fun of for. You never lived and breathed Starbucks in high school like half of the other girls in your school. Nor did you feel the need to drink coffee every single morning. So the fact that you felt the need to stop at the small little cafe just off of campus was unusual.

But you’d been up all night trying to finish a project, and for once you needed coffee to get you through the day. You weren’t opposed to something sweet either. You could practically hear your brother and Travis making fun of you. You knew the second you walked into Travis’s apartment you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

You were bouncing on your toes as you waited for your order. You promised Travis you’d be at his place by now. Although, knowing him, he was too wrapped up in a game to realize you were already late. You knew he was probably sprawled out on the couch, yelling at someone over a headset.

You were about to cross the street and start your walk to Travis’s apartment when someone grabbed you and pulled you back, just before a car came speeding past you. Your heart started racing as you realized just how close you were to turning into Regina George at the end of Mean Girls. You barely even noticed that your coffee was now all over your shoes and jeans. Nor did you notice that the stranger still had a hold of your shoulders.

“Shit! Are you okay?”

You quickly turned around and removed yourself from their grasp, “Yeah...Thank you.”

“Y/N? Shit you need to watch where you’re going.”

“Carter? What are you doing down here?”

You were a little shocked to be honest, normally none of the guys came this close to campus. Aside from Travis, but only when he was coming to get you. As far as you knew, most of them avoided campus all together. Yet, here Carter was, way too close for comfort.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He replied, “But I was grabbing a bite before heading over to Teek’s.”

“You’re going to over to Travis’s?”

“Yeah, he texted not long ago and said him and Patty were playing Fornite or something. I don’t know. I figured it’d beat sitting alone all day.”

“Damnit. I’m going to kill him.”

The realization seemed to hit him and he took a step back, “You’re on your way over, aren’t you?”

“We have a stupid tradtion. But it’s fine, I’ll just go back to my dorm and work on another art thing I’m doing.”

“No, don’t cancel because of me. Actually, why don’t you let me give you a ride?”

You shook your head and took another step away from him. Getting in a car with him was not something you wanted to do. Nor did you want to spend a whole day with all of them. You knew Travis would just make fun of you the whole time. You weren’t going to put yourself, or Carter, into that situation.

You took another step back, finally realizing your shoes were ruined from the coffee, and your pants were wet, “Damnit, these were my favorite pair.”

You groaned and looked around. You knew Carter was still waiting for you to agree to something you weren’t going to do. You knew Travis was trying to do something that you didn’t agree with by forcing you two to be together. You couldn’t understand why it was so important to him. He never cared if you were friends with his teammates before.

“I’ll just call Trav on my way back to my dorm and tell him something came up. Go keep him company or whatever. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, please.”

You turned to start walking down the street when Carter called after you again, “Look, I’m sorry for being a dumbass before. But seriously, why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you. You think I hate you?”

“You’ve kinda made it pretty clear. This is the longest you’ve ever spoken to me, and it’s because you’re arguing with me.”

“Yeah well, I don’t hate you. Thanks for making sure I didn’t become roadkill.”

With that you turned and finally started to make your way to your dorm. He didn’t try to stop you this time, which you were thankful for. When you were sure that you were far enough away, and he’d have no chance of hearing you, you pulled your phone out and called Trav.

He didn’t answer, which you half expected, he hardly answered his phone, unless it was his mom.

“Travis fucking Konecny, I’m going to fucking kill you. Seriously? What were you going to do? Lock Carter and I in a room together until I decided I wanted to be friends? Have fun playing Fortnite or whatever. And please just stop whatever this is. I don’t want it, or him, or whatever.”

You knew Travis wouldn’t be happy with you when he actually listened to it. Nor would he be thrilled when Carter told him about your run in today. He’d probably tell you to stop pushing everyone away from you, because that’s all you ever did these days. But it was all you knew how to do.

You were just fine the way you were. You didn’t need anyone else. Other people just complicate things. You were fine alone. Why Travis felt the need for you and Carter to be friends, you couldn’t understand. But you didn’t need him. You were fine. You were okay.

#Carter hart #Carter hart imagine #Carter hart imagines #Carter hart fanfic #Carter hart fan fiction #flyers imagine #flyers imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #nicolewritesthings

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hookedonapirate · 4 years

Text

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Posting this a day early because it's my day off. I have the next chapter done, and in the meantime, I'll be working on The Princess and Her Sultan for those who have been patiently waiting and because I miss writing for that universe.

I have to warn you, this chapter is a bit absurd lol, but it's fun, I promise. And the end of the chapter will give you a hint for what's to come in the next chapter.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 6

Hans forces a tight smile on his face and hesitantly shakes Killian’s hand, obviously embarrassed he’d invited her to his hotel room. His features contort in pain as if Killian is gripping his hand a little too tightly.

Killian loosens his grip, apology flickering over his face. “Sorry, mate, sometimes I forget my own strength. I once tapped a bloke in the nose and broke several of his nasal bones.”

Unmistakable fear shows in Hans’ eyes and he quickly rips his hand from Killian’s tight clutch and spins around on his stool, returning to his drink and chugs it down.

Emma is still recovering from the initial shock of Killian coming over to… what, rescue her? Or stake his claim even though she’s not his to claim? She’s not entirely sure, but she plays along, flashing a sarcastic smile. “These heels are killing my feet. I had to sit down.”

Killian moves behind her and places both hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently as he sweetly kisses her temple. Her entire skin warms from his touch. “Well, how about I give you a good foot rub when we get home, hmm?” he murmurs in her ear loud enough for Hans to hear as Killian kneads his fingers into her shoulders.

Emma has to swallow the moan rising in her throat as his decadent, silky voice penetrates her ear and his firm hands give her a momentary dose of heaven.

Holy fuck.

He’s not even doing anything to her, and she’s completely turned on. She’s not imagining his hands on her achy feet, giving her a good, thorough rubdown. Certainly not. “Mmmm, that sounds amazing, babe.”

He grins against her earlobe, causing a shiver to skate down her spine. When he removes his hands from her shoulders and extends one to her, she feels the loss of his warmth. “Until then, are your feet rested enough to dance?”

Emma slips her hand in his, interlaces their fingers and stands up, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought you'd never ask. Lead the way.”

She looks over at Hans to catch his reaction as they walk past him, holding hands. Even from behind, she can tell he’s sulking.

When she realizes Killian is actually leading her to the dance floor, panic rises in her chest, and she tugs on his hand to stop him. “Wait, are we actually dancing?”

Killian turns his head around to look past her and nods. “Aye, love. Hans still has his eyes on us.” His jaw twitches as he shoots daggers at him. “Or rather, his eyes are still on you. So it’s best we keep up the ruse.” He moves again, pulling her through the crowd.

“But I don’t know how to dance,” she confesses, slightly ashamed. Her cousins took dance classes when they were younger and loved dancing but Emma mostly stuck to her books and simply listened to music rather than danced to it.

When they reach an appropriate spot on the dance floor, Killian stops and pulls her to him, placing her free hand on his shoulder and his open palm on her back. “There’s only one rule, love.” His eyes lift from their joined hands, and a breath escapes her when his face is only inches away, those baby blues boring into hers. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Emma’s heart flutters as their bodies are pressed closely together. A hint of a smile curves her lips as she follows his lead, and soon they’re moving with the rhythm of the music like they’re at a fancy royal ball. But somehow she manages to replace her smile with a small scowl. “I didn’t need a dashing rescue, you know. I can take care of myself.”

He smirks knowingly. “I don’t doubt that, love, but I was saving you from getting scolded by the bride for causing a scene at her wedding.”

Emma wrinkles her brows in confusion. “Causing a scene? What scene?”

“Oh, come on, Emma, you were about two seconds away from giving that bloke a bloody nose.”

“I was not,” she argues defensively.

He lifts both brows. “Oh really? Because it sounded like he was inviting you back to his hotel room. If I were you, I would’ve kicked him in the bollocks.”

“With the way you were staring at him and had that death grip on his hand, I’m surprised you didn’t. Talk about causing a scene,” she scoffs. “By the way, a nose only has two bones, not several.”

“I know that, but judging by the scared shitless look on his face, he either didn’t know or didn't care,” Killian chuckles.

She tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. “You weren’t jealous of him, were you?”

He almost laughs. “Jealous of that wanker? In order to be jealous, I’d have to be threatened by him. But he’s not capable of snagging someone of your caliber.”

Emma’s eyes widen in bemusement. “Someone of my caliber? And what caliber might that be?”

“I told you, love, you’re the prettiest surgeon I’ve ever met.” He leans closer to whisper in her ear. “And you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

Her face flushes as she cocks a brow. “So you’re saying you are capable?”

Blush paints his cheeks, his lips giving into a smirk. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

She doesn’t comment, and instead just stares into his eyes, which she’s beginning to think is a monumental mistake because she soon gets lost in those forget-me-not blues. Everything else around them disappears as they move across the dance floor, and all she can see is this gorgeous man who seems to be just as intrigued by her as she is by him. “Thank you,” she manages in a breathy whisper, her eyes still locked with his.

His pointy ears actually perk up. “What was that? I don’t believe I heard you right because it sounded like you were actually thanking me instead of yelling at me.”

She laughs. “That's because I was. You were right, I was two seconds from either punching Hans in the nose or giving him a swift kick in the balls. So thank you for stepping in... and for saving me from that asshole.”

He chuckles and lifts his hand to stroke her cheek. “You’re very welcome, love.”

The song ends, and the DJ plays something slow, but Emma has to admit she’s not ready to let him go yet. And she can tell he feels the same. It’s written all over his face. Which is confirmed when he releases her hand and wraps both arms around her waist. She curls her hands around the back of his neck and is so close to him, she can feel his heart beating against hers. She has to admit, he is very charming. Any woman would be a fool not to notice. Guilt stabs her when she recalls the mean things she’d said to him earlier, which definitely weren’t true. “I’m sorry for what I said before about a woman having to be either naive or desperate to fall for your charm.”

To that, he pulls back slightly, astounded by her apology. Then his brows furrow. “Did the bartender spike your drink?”

She giggles in his arms. “No, it was just… it was harsh… what I said.”

He smiles warmly. “No need to apologize. I came onto you a little too strongly.”

She scoffs playfully. “A little?”

He blushes, his smile widening. “Okay, a lot too strongly.”

“Not as strongly as Hans,” she points out.

“That’s true. Now there’s a guy you’d have to be either naïve and desperate to date.”

Emma nods in wholehearted agreement.

Killian breaks their trance to look over her shoulder. He smirks and whispers in her ear. “Don’t look now but we have an audience.”

Emma glances behind her, seeing Anna, Elsa and Ingrid staring at them and smiling, obviously enjoying the show; they might as well be watching a rom-com while munching on popcorn from one of those giant movie theater tubs.

“I told you not to look,” he chuckles.

She turns her head to face him again and laughs. “I’m glad we could entertain them.”

“Aye. It’s not even our wedding and yet we seem to be the stars of the show for the moment.”

She nods and stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out how they hadn’t met before. She’s heard about him, and he used to live in the same town as her, but somehow they had never crossed paths.

“What, love?” he inquires, noticing her staring at him thoughtfully.

She shakes her head. “Nothing, you’re just… you’re a mystery to me. I can’t figure you out.”

He cocks a brow, intrigued by her statement. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you act all cocky and smug, yet the way you were dancing with Camila was…”

“Was what?” he asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence.

“It was freaking adorable,” she admits with a smile. “You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you were just being you.”

He shrugs. “I’m good with kids. What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“You seem so confident in your own skin, yet I look into your eyes and see someone who’s emotionally armored. Like you’re trying to protect yourself from something. Perhaps someone?”

“Oh really? You can see that about me?” she asks with an amused grin.

“You’re somewhat of an open book,” he says with a confident smirk.

“Or maybe you’ve just heard my back story.”

He chuckles. “You caught me.” Killian takes her hands and steps back, spinning her around and dipping her. She loses a breath as she looks up into his eyes. “I’ve heard we’re opposites, but we’re actually not so different, you and I.” He brings her back up and draws her into his arms again.

“Oh? And how’s that?”

“I grew up without parents as well.”

Emma’s heart tightens when his eyes darken with sorrow. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “But how does that make us similar?”

“Because we both know far too much what it’s like to be alone.”

She knows he’s not only referring to losing his parents but also his brother. She wants to argue and tell him she’s not alone, but who is she kidding? She lost one of her few friends, and the only guy who’s confessed his affection for her is a psychotic killer. Well, she can’t say he’s the only guy because while Killian hasn’t announced he has a crush on her through an anonymous card, she can see how attracted he is to her. She can see it in his eyes. In fact, she wonders if she laid one on him, would he kiss her back?

Emma’s eyes fall to his lips as she ponders the thought. Her gaze flickers back to his, and she loses a breath when she catches him staring at her lips. She wonders what his mouth tastes like, wonders what it would hurt if she kissed him just once. Her eyes return to his mouth and she leans in, aching to feel those pretty lips pressed against hers.

A drum roll draws their attention to the center of the room, and they separate, looking to see what’s going on. They were so lost in their own little world and forgot they were at a wedding.

Anna prepares to toss her bouquet to a group of eager bachelorettes who shout and jostle for the best position to catch it. Emma wants no part in the bouquet toss, but Elsa seems to disagree when she grabs Emma’s hand and pulls her toward the group.

“Come on, Em, you’re single too!”

When Elsa releases her hand, Emma slinks to the back of the group and can’t wait for this to be over with. She looks over at Killian who’s gazing back at her longingly, and she can’t believe she almost kissed him. Well, she can—he’s fucking gorgeous—but at her cousin’s wedding? In front of all the guests? What was she thinking?

Anna tosses the bouquet behind her, and all the bachelorettes—except for Emma—spring for it. But Anna's throw is much stronger than expected and the bouquet goes far above their heads, aiming directly at Emma, and ends up in her hands after she instinctively catches it.

Damn it.

Emma holds it up, forcing a smile as the other ladies scream in excitement. She glances at Killian, who is laughing with Kristoff and drinking a glass of what she assumes is rum based on the color and what he'd ordered prior. Her eyes move to Anna who squeezes her into a hug.

Next, a chair is placed in the center of the room and the single men are called to gather around as Anna sits down, grinning from ear to ear. Emma stands off to the side, her eyes dancing between Killian and the newlyweds. Suddenly she’s nervous again, her heart pounding erratically against her breastbone, and she forces herself to look away from him to give her attention to the bride and groom.

Kristoff gets on all fours and pushes back Anna's skirt, his hand moving up her leg before his head disappears under her dress. Anna is squealing and blushing profusely, the crowd erupting with giggles and chants of encouragement. In a quick motion, Kristoff is out from under her skirts, his teeth pulling the frilly white garter down her leg and over her heel. When he stands up, he slingshots the garter over his shoulder toward the bachelors, and while the men aren’t as enthusiastic as the ladies were, Hans springs for it.

But when he misses it and falls to the floor, the man behind him—who of course happens to be Killian—lifts the garter into the air, grinning like an idiot as everyone cheers. His eyes find Emma’s through the crowd and he tosses her a wink as he twirls the garter belt around his finger. She responds with an eye roll and smiles at him, her cheeks warming with blush.

The next thing she knows, Emma is being prompted to sit on the chair as she holds onto the bouquet, and Killian still has that stupid grin on his face as he makes his way to her, holding up the garter belt. Emma bites her bottom lip, anticipation coiled in her gut.

The DJ plays Pour Some Sugar On Me as Killian circles around her like an animal circling its prey, eagerly awaiting its meal. When he’s behind her, he bends over to whisper in her ear. “I have to warn you, love, I’m a biter, too.”

Emma gulps, quite certain she knows his meaning.

Killian appears in front of her, and as he kneels on the floor, she extends her right foot to him, her heart suddenly pounding in her ear. She’s relieved when he uses his hands to pull it over her stiletto, and her skin tingles when she feels his fingertips on her ankle. Then he steals the air from her lungs when he gets on all fours, takes the lace of the garter between his teeth and starts dragging it up her leg with his mouth. Emma’s cheeks are on fire so she briefly buries her face in her hands, laughing in embarrassment as everyone whistles and screams and snaps photos. But the sounds and flashing lights are quickly drowned out because the man who’s moving up her leg with his lips and warm breath brushing her skin demands all of her attention.

Fuck.

She clenches her thighs together, trying not to envision his face in her lap for other reasons. He gets the garter belt past her knee, but then it gets snagged by her dress. So, with both hands, he pushes up the offending material and moves his face to the side of her outer thigh for a better angle, his hand brushing her other leg as he brings it back to the floor to use only his mouth again. She can’t imagine what this might look like to the guests. Well, she can, and she hopes the young ones aren’t watching. She can’t seem to take her eyes off Killian’s to check though.

The garter gets caught again, so he lifts her dress once more using his hands. His face inches closer to where she is definitely imagining him to be right now and with one final drag, he gets the garter where he wants it—mid-thigh—and backs away, taking all of his warmth and intoxicating scent with him. All the men are cheering for him, and he grins and blushes, his eyes locked with hers.

~*~

Killian hadn't meant to take it that far. When he caught the garter belt, he hadn’t planned on using his teeth—he was certainly envisioning it—but he knew it was definitely too much. If he weren’t working on the case and if she weren’t a suspect, and they were just two guests at the wedding, he would still be intrigued by her. He would still be attracted to her. And yes, then he wouldn’t have thought twice about using his teeth. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. But when she sat in the chair, biting her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with anticipation as she gazed over at him, he almost lost himself and consequently threw all rational thinking out the window.

When he’d whispered in her ear, he’d seen her flush and heard her gasp. When he’d knelt down in front of her, he’d witnessed those luminous green eyes sparkle, those pupils dilate as she offered her foot to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of her. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist using his mouth to drag that dainty piece of lace up her leg. Every inch of her was so extremely sexy, even her unpainted toenails were sexy, he had to use all the willpower in him to not touch her. And when he accidentally grazed his hand over her leg after he’d pushed the skirt of her dress out of the way, his heart rate sped up. But somehow he’d managed to place the garter belt around her thigh without completely molesting her.

The first part of his plan had been to crack open her shell, make her feel more comfortable with him, and now he’s afraid he’s screwed that up. And David of course was quick to point that out. While Emma was surrounded by her cousins and other females, probably commenting on Killian’s performance, David was pulling him outside and giving him an earful about how he should’ve let someone else catch the garter belt and how he definitely shouldn’t have used his mouth. David was so furious, Killian was sure he would send him back to Port Lavaca, but Killian assured him his behavior wouldn’t affect the second part of his plan. In fact, it would probably make it even more possible. David muttered a “You better hope so,” before storming back inside, pouting.

Killian downs his fourth glass of apple juice as he gazes across the room, his eyes connecting with hers. She blushes and looks away as she’s chatting with Elsa. He’s pretty sure they’re talking about him if the way they keep glancing over his way is any indication. He would definitely put his money on it.

~*~

“Okay, spill it, Emma. And don’t leave anything out,” Anna encourages with a big, toothy grin, her eyes glinting with intrigue.

Emma's eyebrows furrow. “Spill what?”

“Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She looks across the room, and Emma follows her gaze, seeing Killian on the other end of it as he's drinking another glass of rum.

“You mean, Killian? What about him?”

Anna sighs dramatically and looks like she's about to burst.

“Is it true, you two are a couple?”

That question was from Elsa, who's just as eager as her sister to expunge the juicy details. Well, maybe not quite as eager, but still very interested.

“No, of course not,” Emma answers, her eyes wide with shock. “We just met.”

Anna’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion. “But my husband said Killian was your boyfriend.” Anna blushes and giggles. “Oh my God, it feels good to finally be able to call him that! My husband, I mean,” she clarifies, as though they didn’t already know who she meant. “But back to Killian, why did Hans yell at my husband for not telling him you were already taken?”

Emma frowns at the mention of that creep. “Oh that. Killian told him he was my boyfriend because he saw Hans making me uncomfortable. He was trying to save me from punching Hans in the face and ruining your wedding.”

“Awwwww, that’s so sweet,” both cousins gush.

“By the way, who invited Hans?” Emma demands sharply. “He invited me to his hotel room, and before that, I made it very clear I didn't even want to engage in conversation with him.”

Anna’s eyes go wild. “He did what?!” she gasps. “Oh no, that is not okay. I told Kristoff we never should have invited him.” Fueled with anger, she spins around, lifts her skirts from the floor and marches over to Kristoff, who’s chatting with the groomsmen.

“Anna, wait, I don’t want to make a big deal about it,” Emma calls after her, but her auburn-haired cousin ignores her and continues her trek. Emma sighs and turns to look at Elsa who’s always been the calm, rational one of the two sisters. At any rate, she can’t say she’d be sad to see Hans kicked out.

“I’m so sorry about Hans. He’s such a creep,” Elsa comments before sipping her punch.

Emma dismisses Elsa’s words with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” A slow smirk pulls at her lips. “So tell me, what exactly is going on with you and Killian? And don’t you dare say 'nothing'. He just used his mouth to get the garter belt on you when he could’ve easily used his hands. And you were…”

“I was what?” Emma asks, trying to contain the smile threatening her lips.

“You were pretty into it,” she teases, swatting Emma's shoulder.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe he's a little cute, but as I said, we just met. I know nothing about him, except that he’s cocky and a compulsive flirt.”

Elsa nods in agreement. “You’re not wrong about that, he can be cocky but in a charming, boyish sort of way. And yes, he can be a bit of a flirt, but he’s mostly bark and no bite.” She laughs at her own remark. “Okay, well as we all saw, he is a little bit of a biter.”

Emma flushes at the comment and wonders if he’s a biter in the sack because she definitely wouldn’t mind it if he were. Not that she plans on getting him in the sack. Because she definitely doesn't. She snaps her eyes shut briefly, chastising herself for having those thoughts.

“But don’t worry, I won’t badger you about him.”

“Thank you,” Emma murmurs before imbibing her water. She thinks about it for a moment though. Elsa knows Killian pretty well, so this might be an opportunity to find out whether she's wasting her time on him or not. She wants to say she’s not even considering the possibility of dating him, or anyone for that matter, but Elsa can easily squash any or all of Emma’s musings about the man. “So, tell me…” Emma gnaws on her bottom lip, deciding on the right question.

Based on Elsa's knowing smile, she seems to be onto her. “Yes?”

“Is Killian a good guy? I mean honestly? You know I don’t date because I have my trust issues. So am I just wasting my time by lowering my guard around him or—”

“He’s a great guy, Emma. I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I’ve spent some time with him, and we were pretty close before Liam died. He can be a little rough around the edges and hot-headed at times, but he’s honest, has a good heart and can be very sweet. We had a rough patch for a while but now I hope we can be close again. And I know it’s difficult for you to open up, Emma, but you can’t keep people out forever. Besides when is the last time you’ve gone on a date and just had some good old-fashioned fun? You work so damn much, I bet you can’t even remember.”

Guilt rises in Emma’s cheeks, and she nods, considering Elsa’s words. “You’re right. It’s been far too long since I've been with a guy. But he hasn’t even asked me out. How do I know he’s even interested?” She already knows how ridiculous the question sounds when she asks it.

Elsa lifts a brow that says, really, Emma? “With the way he was dancing with you, giving you those doe eyes and the way he put that garter belt on you, do you really need any more proof that he’s completely into you?”

Emma sighs. “But how do I know he doesn't act like that around every woman he meets?”

“He doesn't, only with women he's interested in. And that's rare for him. He caught the garter at mine and Liam’s wedding, but he didn’t use his teeth, and the bachelorette was much more flirty than he is with you. It was more of an obligation for him then,” Elsa ends the statement with a smirk. “But with you, I could tell—hell everyone in the room could tell he was into you.”

Emma laughs, her cheeks flooding with blush. “Okay, okay, I get your point. So... I should just ask him out then?”

Elsa’s face lights up in excitement. “Yes, you should!”

Emma inhales a deep breath, her heart pounding at the possibility of approaching him. She doesn’t really have a plan yet, but maybe it’s better to just wing it. No, on second thought, she has to have a plan. “Women can ask men out, right?”

“Are you kidding? Yes, they can! Go for it, Em,” she chants encouragingly.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Emma turns around and straightens her shoulders, determined to march over to Killian. Instead, she freezes, her eyes widening in surprise when he’s standing in front of her with a drink in his hand. His hair is carelessly disheveled, his eyes are a dull shade of blue and he’s still wearing his jacket, but his tie is hanging loosely around his neck and his dress shirt is halfway unbuttoned, allowing a patch of dark chest hair to poke out. He's obviously been drinking a little too much. But he still looks delicious.

“Hi there, love,” he greets with a smirk, his words slurred. He stumbles forward and Emma grabs onto him and catches a whiff of him. Okay, he’s been drinking way too much.

Her eyes sting from the smell of rum as she helps over to the nearest chair. “Easy tiger, I think you’ve had too much to drink.” As she helps him sit in the chair, she glances at Elsa, her cousin’s features donning a mixture of concern and apology.

“He doesn’t normally drink this much.”

Emma looks around, seeing the kids on the other side of the room playing and running around.

“We should probably get him home. I don’t want Camila or his nephews to see him like this,” Elsa says in a worried tone.

“I’m fine, really.” Killian lazily waves off her words and tries to stand, but almost falls over again before Elsa and Emma catch him.

“I guess I should take him home. Will you watch Camila while I’m gone?” Elsa asks her.

“Why don’t I just take him?” Emma suggests. “You should stay and spend time with your sister before she goes off on her honeymoon.”

“But you don’t have your car with you,” Elsa points out.

“Did he drive here himself?”

“Yeah, he came in his truck.”

“Okay, so I can just drive him home in his vehicle and catch an Uber home. Where’s he staying?”

Elsa shakes her head. “I’m not sure. A motel I think.”

Emma kneels in front of him like she’s speaking to a child. “Where are you staying, Killian?”

“Wherever you want me to stay,” he drawls with a cheeky grin.

Emma rolls her eyes and reaches into the inside of his suit jacket, searching for his wallet.

He smirks. “If you wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask.”

Emma can’t help but blush, his face inches from hers as she grabs his wallet. God, he’s wasted. Rifling through his wallet, she finds a key card from Pinn Road Inn, which is on the other side of town.

She informs Ingrid what’s going on, and after she hugs the newlyweds and wishes them a fantastic honeymoon, she and Elsa help Killian to his truck and buckle him up in the passenger seat. Elsa apologizes profusely as though she’s responsible for her brother-in-law, but Emma waves off her words and hugs her goodbye. She promises to have lunch with her and Anna after the honeymoon and climbs into the truck.

The drive to the motel is mostly silent until Killian suddenly starts cursing like a sailor. She looks over to see him pulling at a thread that's hanging from the cuff of his jacket.

“Don’t pull at it, you’ll ruin the jacket,” Emma warns, returning her eyes to the road. “Just take it back to the haberdashery you got it from.”

“Royal tuxedos, my arse. More like royal crap,” he bleats, reclining in his seat to reach into his pants pocket.

Too late.

Glancing over at him, she sees him using a Stanely knife to cut off the string. Her eyes widen in horror. “Don't do that, you'll—”

Killian’s groaning in pain, his left hand is covered in blood and the blood is dripping all over his suit.

“...cut yourself,” she finishes with a sigh.

A/N: So you probably have a lot of questions about what exactly is up Killian's sleeve, but I promise that will be covered in the next chapter. And yes, I couldn't make either Emma or Killian a doctor without injuring the other one at least once and having some doctor/patient scenes. I promise Killian will be in good hands though :-)

@itsfabianadocarmo @snowbellewells @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms @teamhook @xhookswenchx @xsajx @julesep3026 @hookedmom @biefaless @cluttermind @yasbio2015 @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @harshini01 @noensnaringnet @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld @annastasiarinaldiva @royalswan @brustudyblog @officerrogers @gingerchangeling @melly326 @singersdd @mzbossyboots @unworried-corsair @iamemmaswanjones @authorarsinoe @kingofmyheart14 @nightskylover @jamif @resident-of-storybrooke @iam2307 @winterbaby89 @chinawoodfan @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd @captainswan-shipper88 @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera

#cs ff #captain swan #beyond a reasonable doubt #my fic

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