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soapskneebrace · 1 year

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to rival the sun

Pairing: Gaz x f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: virginity loss, established relationship, praise kink (kind of), discussions of contraceptives, gratuitous use of italics, a metaphor perhaps stretched too thin, really just a lot of gooey sweetness, only one editing pass so be gentle Author’s Notes: Listen, I am not a Gaz girl, but this thing just came out of me.

Now on AO3!

You’re in the middle of making out on his couch when you tell him.

You’re straddled across his lap, arms hung loosely around his neck as his hands slide soft and soothing up and down your back. Something is burning low in your belly, something you’ve often felt but never shared with anyone else, and his mouth is warm and eager on yours.

“Can’t ever get enough of you, feels like,” he’d said to you, early in your relationship. He’d meant it as a joke, at the time, referring to the near three-solid days you’d spent together between deployment. You hadn’t even done that much—one or two outings to a cafe had only punctuated longer stretches given simply to sharing each other’s company. You’d still been getting familiar then, the both of you, still sharing kisses that were more shy than anything else.

Kyle is not shy now, and neither are you. His entire body is warm, and almost pliant beneath yours, but you can feel a kind of tightness that always seems to be there when the two of you get into these positions. It’s in his shoulders, pulled taut along the muscles of his trapezius, and as you tease his lower lip with your teeth you knead circles into the meat of it with the tips of your fingers.

The massage does the opposite of helping, though—he intakes a sharp breath, and pulls away from you, hands tight on your waist as he breaths hard. His eyes are closed, and the warm brown of his cheeks is made warmer by a tinge of red.

“Maybe we should slow down,” he says, sounding like that’s the opposite of what he wants to do. The grip he has on you seems to agree.

“If you want,” you say, but making the offer feels like pulling your own teeth. That low burn is beginning to spread, but insecurity suddenly threatens to poison it. Does he not want you?

It’s been a little like this throughout the span of your relationship. Even without any admissions, you know it’s pretty obvious that you don’t have much experience. And for the most part, his attention to the slow pace you set has been nothing but a relief—people could get weird about your needs, about what you hadn’t done, but Kyle makes you feel like the rhythm you set isn’t a strange one to dance to at all.

“Do you want to?” Kyle asks, opening his eyes to meet yours.

The insecurity dissolves. You can see it all over his face, in the crease of his brow—he doesn’t want to stop. He wants to keep you comfortable, even if he ends up unsatisfied. You feel like his expression is mirroring yours perfectly, painted stark and hot with aching want, and settling into that shared feeling is like sinking deep into a warm bath.

“No,” you whisper, hands moving to frame the sides of his neck.

He inhales again, less sharply. “Just say when, yeah?” he whispers back. The words are accompanied with a shift of his hips, a flutter of his hands on your waist.

“There isn’t a when,” you say, and then without thinking, “I want you to be my first, Gaz.”

He goes still. Blinks at you. “Oh.”

And instantly you regret opening your mouth. Your hands fall away, sliding down to his chest, curling into embarrassed fists. You look down. Of course it’s weird. Who was a virgin past eighteen these days? You know Kyle is experienced, unlike you—you’ve felt it every time he’s touched you, every time he’s slung an arm around you with the casual ease of someone who knew how to be with someone else. Shame and disappointment flood you, and that burn in your belly rapidly banks.

But his hands—broad, strong, and gentle—are on your face, bringing you back to him. “I would’ve thought—god, I mean, people must have thrown themselves at you!”

He’s smiling, wide and joyful, and it’s like seeing the sun rise. As quickly as it came, the embarrassment flees.

You smile too, the relief making you laugh, and refrain from correcting his generous assumption. “It just never felt right.”

He kisses you, swift and solid, but suddenly pulls away again, but you know this time it’s because he’s thought to say something. “And it feels right now?”

You nod, hands going back to his neck, lashes lowered a little demurely. “You feel right, Kyle.”

He surges forward again, lips finding the corner of your mouth and working toward your jaw. “Tell me the minute I do something you don’t like. Promise me, yeah? Promise.”

“I promise,” you gasp, as suddenly his teeth find the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You don’t think, in that moment as the burn suddenly roars back to life, that he could do a single thing to make keeping that promise necessary. “Kyle, that feels good.”

His lips part from your skin with a wet smack, move to give the hickey he’s just sucked into your skin a companion. “That’s the idea, love.”

Your hands find the expanse of his back as he presses you closer, fingers spreading over the flex and stretch of taut muscle, and you dig your nails in as a little moan leaves you. The tension you’d always felt is gone, and when you realize that it’s been there because he’s been holding back for you the entire time, your breath leaves your lungs.

“That feels good, too, love,” he says against your neck, smiling up at you when you look at him. “Always feels good when you touch me. Always. Didn’t want to scare you with that.”

You melt a little. “I’m never scared of you, Kyle.”

You don’t have the words to describe his expression. The smile has dropped away, but it’s been replaced with something you think borders on beatific. His eyes, warm and brown and soft, are seeing you against a backdrop of something else, something you know is bloody and ugly and a place of no pride. You don’t know the details—you don’t have the clearance—but you know enough.

You take his face in your hands as he pulls back. “Never,” you repeat.

His arms tighten around you like vices, and he leans forward again, kissing you hard. His tongue finds the edge of your teeth, licks into your mouth as his hands flex across your back and your fingers find the collar of his shirt. It feels illicit to delve beneath the flimsy cotton, to trace the shape of his muscles with your nails, but the purr of satisfaction he gives against your mouth tells you it’s exactly the right thing to do.

“Off,” you say between kisses, and the fabric complains as he yanks it up, pulls his arms and head out, and throws the thing away without a second look. You splay your hands across his chest, digging your nails into the swell of his muscles as he claims your mouth again, and his skin is blazing to touch. You think there’s a fire burning inside him, too, and in the back of your mind you wonder if his flat could burn down just from the two of you being together like this.

His arms sink lower around your body, traveling from waist to hips, and abruptly he’s pulling you forward, hands splayed across both ass cheeks, as he shifts his hips and settles back against the couch. The new position has your mons nestled against an interesting bulge at the front of his pants, but he doesn’t give you much time to blush or fluster about it.

“Ride me, love, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, the deep dark of his eyes alight with the firestorm whipping up between you.

You grasp his shoulders and lean in to seal your mouth over his again. His fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, hot on the already warm skin of your back. Encouraged, you pivot your hips a little, experimentally, and in synch the both of you groan at the sensation. His erection is almost perfectly aligned with the clothed seam of your pussy, the drag of it made simultaneously just perfect and not enough with the fabric’s friction. You grind down again, pressing your mouth harder against his, whimpering when his jaw opens and his tongue finds its way into the space beneath yours. He shifts his hips, pushing up into you a little, grabbing you by the ass again as you bear your clit down hard on what feels like it could be the head of his cock.

“Christ, love, that’s fucking perfect,” Kyle gasps, tendons in his neck pulled completely taut.

“Gaz, it feels so good,” you whine, pressing down harder, dragging against him, the need suddenly feverish.

His hands leave your shirt and wedge themselves into the back of your pants, eliciting a sharp gasp as he kneads the flesh. “This okay? You want these off?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, Kyle, please.”

It’s a clumsy job, and they end up hanging from one ankle because you cannot be bothered to do more than get them out of the way. Somewhere in the back of your head you want to laugh at how slapdash the both of you must look—him shirtless but still in sweatpants, you naked only from the waist down—but the rest of your mind is an inferno. As you settle back onto his lap, there’s only his clothes separating you from him now, and when you press your mons against him again the heat coming from his cock is breathtaking.

“We need a condom?” Kyle asks, spreading his big hands across your thighs.

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur, grinning at his foresight, blessing your lucky stars that you’d thought to take precautions as early as the first time you’d made out with him.

“Fuck yeah,” he enthuses, grinning back. “Option’s always open though. If we need it.”

That has you kissing him again, burrowing your hips into his, swallowing the sharp moan he gives as his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. You can almost imagine him throbbing against you—or is that your own pulse you feel, beating a rhythm between your folds? Heat floods your face at the thought, and a needy ache blooms quickly from your center.

You separate from him. “Kyle—touch me. Please?”

His hand goes to your sex like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Suddenly you’re fighting your own body, because your hips jerk away from him when his fingers slide through folds that you’re only now realizing are dripping wet. The pleasure is not dulled with fabric this time, not under the rhythm of your control, and it’s like flames are licking at your bare skin with the sensation of his touch. Every nerve is alive, alight with awareness.

“Sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

But he’s got a steady arm around you. His grin reappears, satisfied and almost smug. “That good, is it?” he teases, a lighter touch dragging again through the creases of you, curling his fingers into a sticky squelch that has you blushing furiously. “Shit, that is good.”

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.”

He forms his mouth around your pulse, the tip of his middle finger circling your clit without actually making contact. “You want my fingers, love?” They brush around the borders of your entrance. “Want me to get you ready?”

“I can take you,” you say, bearing down, trapping his hand between your pussy and his cock. “I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much. I promised, didn’t I?”

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, and searches your gaze. You don’t know what he sees, but his mouth finds yours again. “Jesus, darling. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.”

He withdraws his hand, and scoots you back a little by the hips. You can’t help staring as he pulls his waistband down, showing a small dusting of curly pubic hair, and pulls his cock free with one hand. The burn almost peaks then and there, because the sight of it standing like that, rigid, the head of it smeared glossy with precum, is almost too much to take. He’s hard, hard because of you, hard because of what you’d been doing together.

Your trace your fingers along its length, almost lightheaded, before remembering that he’s been so good about staying at your pace. “Is this okay?” you ask, your touch lingering at the base. You want to show him the same consideration he’s shown you—want him to know how precious it has been by giving him the same.

His breath comes out unevenly, and he presses his forehead to yours—you think he understands. “Better than okay. Fuck.”

You stroke him again, lingering at the dip between shaft and corona, and your brows shoot up when his cock twitches in response. Your breath is suddenly shaky in your chest, shallow, and your throat feels dry when you finally speak. You hadn’t known that could happen. The implications have the blood roaring in your ears.

“How—” and you have to lick your lips, “—how do we do this?”

You look up at his face again, and his lips part in a smile that’s so tender it makes your heart hurt. “Come here.”

He helps you lift up on your knees, and you want to whimper at how easy it is for him to hold you steady with one hand while the other takes ahold of his cock. There is barely any space between the head of it and your folds. You swear you can feel the heat of it radiating out toward your skin, as if it’s stretching out to find you.

“Help me in, alright?” Kyle murmurs, hand tightening on your hip, the pressure comforting.

You grip his bare shoulder with one hand and reach down, finding your entrance—you’re familiar enough with that—and spreading your folds. As you lower yourself, trembling less than you might have without his support, you feel the head of his cock pass between the splay of your fingers, spreading them wider, and then your entrance surrounds him.

“Good,” Kyle breathes, “so good. You’re doing amazing.”

Lower. You feed him into yourself in centimeters, carefully, but it’s like you were made to take him—your body gives no resistance, the dripping slick you’re coated with welcoming him eagerly, hungrily. You toss your pace to the wind and push down, taking him to the root.

The moan that leaves you is long and loud as he hisses “Fuck!” in your ear. The hand that had been around his cock slaps against your ass, and you feel him go rigid beneath you, feel his shoulders go tight, feel his thighs flex beneath you as his grip on your body turns to iron. He’s hot and thick inside you, and deep, deeper than your fingers have ever been able to reach. You’re sure of it now—you can feel the his pulse in you, thrumming against your walls like the beat of a drum.

You find your breath somehow as the two of you sit motionless for a heartbeat.

Then he’s huffing a laugh. “Warn a guy next time, love! Shit, you feel incredible.”

You laugh too, and it’s followed by a gasp as you can feel yourself laughing around him. “Told you I could take you!” you pant.

He grins at you, showing his teeth, and nips at your jaw. “Fucking minx. Take the rest then, too, aye?”

You pivot your hips, already practiced from before, and give a cry as you finally register the stretch of your walls around him. It’s a good stretch, a burn that you’re sure is going to sear you from the inside. Your thighs are shaking a little, tight with a building pressure that threatens to combust, and Kyle gives a push upward with his hips.

“I got you,” he says, and his voice is low and breathy as he wraps both hands around your waist. “Go ahead. Take what you need. We’ll get you there.”

You pivot again, and pleasure radiates from your core from where your bodies are joined. You don’t need to think about it too much as you roll your hips, back and forth, falling forward to drape yourself across Kyle’s chest as you wrap your arms around his shoulders for leverage. One heavy arm loops around your back, and you’re squealing as his free hand is at your sex again, two fingers pressing into your clit as his hips rock, as ever, to match your rhythm.

Your breath is coming fast. The heat between your bodies is humid, heavy, settling slick across your skin as you move together. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, whimpering, panting, grinding your hips down as the muscles in your back and thighs pull tighter and tighter, as something in your core winds itself up with so much tension you wonder how far it can actually go. You’ve come before, with a vibrator, with your own hands, but it’s never been like this.

“Kyle,” you say, and it comes out as the neediest whine you have ever heard yourself make. “I’m so close, oh my god…”

“I can feel it,” he says, thrusting up into you with new momentum. “You’re almost there, love, it’s alright—shit, you feel good—come on, darling, come for me—Fuck!”

The tension snaps. Your breath escapes you in one sharp, long gasp, carrying a wordless cry out of your mouth, and then you can’t make any sound at all. Your orgasm floods your whole body, fireworks of ecstasy lighting up across your nerves in a sweeping crescendo, bursting to life behind your closed eyes, dancing for moments before winking out to make room for more. For one, singular moment, you feel every nerve ending beneath your skin blaze with pleasure, and wonder if this was how stars came to life.

You finally cry out, panting hard against Kyle’s skin, when you regain the use of your voice. He’s pistoning into you from below, and you only have a little time to gather yourself to watch his face before his hips shove up into yours, almost lifting the both of you completely off the couch, as he comes with a strained growl.

The expression he’s making is indescribable. Everything you’d felt in that climax, you see playing out in the draw of his brows, in the hang of his jaw. Had he looked like that the whole time? You experience an unexpected moment of disappointment, as the pleasure ebbs. You’d been very focused on you. You’d missed what was happening to him.

You’re both breathing hard. You tighten your arms around him, stricken suddenly with that old shyness, when he starts to pepper your neck with soft little kisses, and that eases the disappointment. You come back to yourself, to the both of you, as his hands are traveling across your back, splayed wide, stroking the sweaty fabric of your shirt. His body is still warm beneath you—still warm inside you—and for now, it’s enough.

“That was incredible,” Kyle says into your skin, “Christ, that was perfect. You were perfect.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “So were you,” you say, soft and a little tender. He turns his head to look at you, still resting against his shoulder. You realize you’re smiling, when he smiles back—and you lift your head to press your brow to his. “Thank you,” you whisper.

His lips find yours, soft and sweet. You know he understands.

You’re both sticky, glistening with sweat, and a little dizzy from the climax. This isn’t so unfamiliar a feeling—you and Kyle were known to exercise together—but when the two of you finally break apart, as he slips out of your body, you discover two things.

One, you feel horribly empty without him inside you. Your belly is still thrumming, and you realize that low burn has not gone out.

And two, Kyle is nowhere near flaccid. It isn’t the rigid mast it had been earlier, but like you, Kyle isn’t quite sated.

He sees you studying him, still on the couch after you’ve stood up, and smiles at you. You know what he’s about to say even before he says it.

“Told you I can’t get enough of you.”

You give a breathless laugh. Because now, you’re very interested in going at his pace instead.

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onirique-amaranth · 2 years

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⎮The wind steals everything⎮

⏤ Characters: Xiao⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings → sub/bottom virgin! Xiao, dom/top male reader, mention of voyeurism, blowjob (reader receiving), dacryphilia, obsession/yandere behaviour, minor mind-breaking, mention of killing, urophilia, degradation, size kink, marking

⏤ 7.000 words

Xiao was perched in a tree, looking in your direction, suspicious. As you are still heading to the Wangshu Inn with this unknown merchant, he decides to follow. Not because he was interested in you, but because he was wary. You had the scent of Zhongli on you, his mark and the colour of your veins turned to gold. He was sure that he never heard about you or seen you before, and it was even odder if you were this close to Zhongli already.

As he sees you disappear, trees hiding you from his view, he dashes forward, following you without being noticed. He was analysing any movements you made, and was listening to your conversation with the merchant, while you were praising Liyue Harbor and its citizen. Your kindness and friendly behaviour took him by surprise, foreigners were rarely this appreciative of the scenery and people. Perhaps you were like the Traveller? It was the only plausible explanation.

As the horse you're sitting on came to a stop, you imitate the merchant and get down, looking up to admire the gigantisms tree. You have never seen something this big in your life, the golden leaves falling around you as if they were dancing with the wind. You were mesmerized by the beauty of everything, as a cat nuzzle against your leg, trying to grab your attention. Gently, you lift it up, placing it on your shoulder as it purrs near your ear, making you chuckle at the cuteness. Oblivious to the fact it was one of the cats who would keep company to Xiao at night, they were well-known for not being friendly with humans.

The said male was looking at you from the top of the inn, eyebrows furrowed at the scene, you managed to get Zhongli and now, you wanted to steal the cats? That was a childish reaction, but he could not help it. As a shadow, he followed you everywhere, even more curious about you. After you rented a room and placed your belongings down, you started to roam around, walking outside by yourself, if he was not acknowledging the cats following you around, just like him. They were sometimes meowing to get your attention and be able to sit on your shoulder, or they would just run around you. He refused to admit it, but the scene was wholesome.

Surprisingly, nothing attacked you and as you come back to the inn, you were met with merchants selling some goods. Before you could take a look and buy anything, they proposed to go drink some tea with them, and so, you spend your afternoon talking about businesses and travels. The atmosphere was calm and relaxing, so different from the constant movements and energy in the city.

Xiao never left his position, learning from you how to interact with others, he was admiring, not like he will admit it, how good you were at sympathizing with people. Every time you would smile sincerely, he could feel his cheeks heat up. With a hand over his heart, he would listen to your voice soothing him but scowl anytime someone would interrupt you. He needed to learn more about you.

Even after so many hours of sneaking behind you, he was not feeling tired or bored, it was as if you had always something interesting to do or say. But soon enough, you got tired of human interaction and left back to your room, changing into more comfortable clothes before taking a quick nap, the merchants offered to pay for dinner tonight, and you could already feel how tiresome it will be. As for Xiao, he never looked away once, whatever you were doing, even as you changed. Something in his head was telling him to watch closely and keep this in his memory forever.

He was not far away when you got out of your room and started to talk with Verr Goldet, it seemed like she took a liking to you quite quickly. Her husband showed up not so long after, and he told you that you could stay as long as you wanted. Xiao was glad to hear this, he would have more time to observe and learn things about you. He already knew some things about you, what was your favourite food and drink, what were your hobbies, the languages you speak or your favourite place even if it was something he knew nothing about. Your talk with the merchant from earlier left him the time to write down every information, you will be not a mystery anymore at the end of this day, he promised himself to understand you.

The moon made the golden leaves shine, and the wind picked up a little, but it was still pleasant. You noticed one of the kindest merchants that you met earlier sitting at one of the tables, he was a really gentle man, that you could nearly describe as shy. When you sat down beside him, his smile widened, and with excitement, he introduced his son to you. And in no time, the said son managed to drag you away and started flirting with you, making you feel a bit confused about the situation.

Xiao was bewildered, this man just got introduced to you, but he was acting as if you were really close. Something irked him in this man's behaviour, and you, doing nothing to push him away was annoying him even more. His hands were clenched tightly, feeling a sudden wave of hatred for no reason. And before he could comprehend what was happening, he was following you again, but this time you were with this man, his body pressed against your arm. Xiao could not believe his eyes when he entered your room with you as if it was normal, how dare he.

This night, he witnessed something he only heard vaguely about and read once in a book. This scene was engraved into his memory, unable to disappear. A strange feeling bloomed into his heart.

He left only when you were asleep, the urge to kill this man so strong that he had to leave immediately. He wanted to go back to the forest, so he could chase some monsters to calm down, but he was unable to forget what he saw. His body was burning up at the thought, mind hazy as he has to sit down. And for one of the rare times in his life, he was actually hard, so hard it hurts him. Hands shaking as he panics, every time he was thinking about you, it was twitching without his consent. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore it, but it became even worse.

He tried to erase the memory, but your face and body kept flashing into his mind, he thought he was becoming crazy for a second. And before he knew it, he decides to just let the scene from earlier play into his mind, hoping it would calm him down. And every instant started to flash before his eyes. As he was sitting at the top of the Wangshu Inn, he yanks his pants down, body quivering, unable to stay still.

With shaky breaths, he struggles to find a good position and just sat down, legs spread as he covers his mouth with his hand. He thinks about how you did it and without waiting, he inserts one of his fingers into him, dry. The pain was insufferable, but he kept going, wanting to know so badly why it looked so good and tempting. He wanted, needed to know what the man under you felt like at this moment. He refused to take off his gloves, as he wished it was your hand instead of his.

He was so hard, but he disregarded it, since he has never seen you touch this man that way, he did not want to do something wrong. Suddenly, he remembered how you covered your hand in some fluids and immediately, he spat on his covered fingers. As he tries once again, the way it slid inside without resistance made his back arch, everything back so pleasurable.

He was laying on the roof, eyes shut tightly, mouth wide open as he let out some whimpers, his mind replaying your face over and over. As you penetrated this man, when you kissed his ugly tears away, when you came so deep into this horrible and disgusting mortal, when you cleaned him off with your tongue. How someone as sweet and beautiful as you could let your tongue and hands touch this man's body, and he could only enrage at the thought that he was still in your bed.

He needed to calm down, he knew it was wrong, lusting over someone that was not his, hating the thought of him being with someone else. He exhaled and inhaled slowly, his murderous aura vanishing into the air, suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. And as he closes his eyes tightly, he imagines himself being in the position of this man, being the one under you, taking his place.

Did you do the same to Zhongli, is it why you had his mark? And so… also with another person who has a hydro vision. He could feel his heart breaking at the thought, of imagining you with another two people. Unknowingly jealous but certainly curious, he was so lost.

As you escape the man's arms, you just noticed how you still don't remember the name of this guy, but he was not that important anyway, he's leaving tomorrow. You get out of the room without making a sound, wanting to get some fresh air. Since the top of the inn seemed like the most relaxing place, you get up slowly, admiring the view. From the ground it was beautiful but at this height, it was truly magnificent.

As you got lost while watching far away from here, you heard a strange coming from beside you. You freeze, dubious if you should check it out in case it is someone injured, or if it's a trap or something similar. You ponder a bit before climbing up there, suddenly, the noise seems much louder than some seconds ago. You were going to dash forward when you stop dead in your tracks, in front of you was the Adeptus, Xiao fingering himself in the middle of the night, outside.

His head was thrown back as he gasped for air, his fingers disappearing into his hole over and over, legs spread letting you see everything. From how his hole was clenching around his fingers, the quivering of his legs, the shakiness of his fingers and the moans pouring out of his mouth.

Your cheeks were burning as you leave as quickly and quietly as you came here, ears burning as you saw something you surely should not have. You cover the gasp you nearly let out when he whimpered your name loudly, the sounds sending chills up your spine. Body reacting to the sound immediately, equally as turned on as confused. You never met him, so it had no reason to happen. You shake your head, running back inside, not wanting to invade his privacy more.

Sadly, you forgot a detail while escaping, how sharp was Xiao's hearing. At first, he heard something approaching but it was so quiet he thought it was one of the cats, but when he heard someone run away, his eyes widened. Someone saw him. He shot up from his position, ready to kill that person until he saw you. As he observes you leaving, your scent was still lingering in the air and your back revived his imagination, his body reacted on his own and with his fingers finding their place in him again, he cums suddenly, choking on a moan as he's taken by surprise. Cum landed on the roof, as he came down from his high, and he just teleports away, embarrassed.

He still could not help but stop in front of your window, and he was surprised to see you laying on the couch instead of the bed. Heart warming up as he makes sure you're asleep and enter the room silently, crouching to kiss you before stopping beside the man in the bed, placing his hand over his forehead to grant him some marvellous nightmares. He left as quickly as he came in, a discreet smile on his face.

The next day, you wake up feeling strangely fine, as if your dream of this night was unusual. Your body feels light and your torso felt hot as if something stayed on top of you the whole night. You bid your partner of the night goodbye, not looking back, ignoring him as he complains. You could still hear him whine about how he thought you would spend some time with him but no. You chuckle at his useless ramble while changing.

Thankfully not every clothing Childe bought you were that revealing, even if you liked them, you did not know if it was really accepted to be this lightly clothed. And you remember Verr Goldet and her husband looked at you a bit too insistently yesterday, so maybe it was not the best idea, afraid you made them feel uncomfortable.

As you get down the stairs, greeting her politely, she frowns, looking at you up and down.

“You changed clothes?”

The question seemed a bit strange, after all, you tried your best to stay as proper as possible in any way.

“How sad… It was a blessing for my and my husband's eyes.

And I guess for any other passers-by.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, covering your face a bit ashamed. With a sigh, you got back to your room, the owner of the inn looking at you confused. But when you came back down with the same type of clothes from the previous day, she claps with a big smile, blushing a bit, but she seemed satisfied. With a loud laugh, you promise her to 'bless her eyes' again the next day, since you planned to at least stay two more days, to relax and be fully rested.

As you walk away, you hear Verr Goldet murmur something under her breath, giggling.

“He should be satisfied.

But at this rate, it's not following. It's stalking.”

You planned to eat breakfast with the merchants before they leave, but the atmosphere was strange. The man, who introduced his son to you the day before, was glaring at the said male. When he saw you head their way, he apologized for the behaviour of his son, using a sickly sweet voice as he tries to stand closer to you. You shoo him away with a single hand gesture as you leave to sit at another table, these two were too suspicious.

The atmosphere between the merchants was terrible, and you decide to leave as quickly as you could, you wished them a good journey and hoped to see them another time before going back inside. The top of the inn seemed like the safest and most relaxing place of all for now, and Xiao should be out doing whatever he was supposed to. So there was little to no chance to see him there, and he doesn't reveal himself most of the time anyway. A bit flustered at the thought of possibly seeing him as the scene from the previous night was still in your mind.

As you expected, it was desert, nobody around and a perfect peaceful view. You step closer to the barrier, and rest your forearms on it as you admire the scenery. You only have been doing that lately, admiring things, but who were you to not make the most out of your stay here. It's not like you were going to see this every day, even if you knew there will always be a room for you here.

You're taken by surprise when a strong wind came out of nowhere, no clouds on the horizon and suddenly, a second blast of air hits you. You gasp as it pushes you over the barrier, you move as quickly as you could to grab something, but to no avail. You were ready to endure the pain, but a hand grab your arm, a grip strong enough to almost break it as the person helps you come back onto the ground.

One second after, and you would have been laying down unmovingly on another ground, a few meters below. This person saved your life.

When you looked up, still sitting on the ground in shock, golden eyes met yours, they were observing you, the hand previously gripping your arm placed on the top of your head. Swiftly, it slid down to your cheek, rubbing it tenderly. You went to open your mouth, wanting to thank him when he freezes in his movement. Teal hair falls in front of his face, covering his eyes as his gaze still does not waver. Sudden, he stands up straight as if he just realized something. His hand covering the bottom of his face, ears turning red, unable to look at you anymore. Xiao was cute like this.

As you look down, trying to not embarrass him more, you notice how he was crossing his legs awkwardly, body turning suddenly in another direction, so you could not see him properly. One of his hands goes down to cover his crotch before he vanishes into thin air. The words you wanted to say died on your tongue, and you were sitting there, still processing what just happened. Something was really not right today.

It's not every day that you practically fall from the top of an inn, meet an Adeptus and get saved by him. As you inspect your wrist, you notice the change of colour, his grip left a strong red mark that will surely turn into a bruise. Something seemed fishy, why would the wind get this strong suddenly, and with perfect timing, coincidentally he, out of everyone, appears to save you. A small light bulb lit up over your head.

He planned it. This guy purposely made the wind pushes you over the barrier, he put you in a deadly situation. So he could save you… He was worse than Zhongli.

On Xiao's side, he was lying on his bed, his face hidden in his pillow. He just realized what he did, it was done impulsively, without thinking. He never wanted to put you in danger, but his greedy mind forced him to, he needed to become important to you. Wasn't saving your life the perfect plan? He promised himself to stay away from you but when this morning, he saw all those people standing around you, being so friendly and close, when this man was talking to you with that disgusting tone, he became so angry. He hated how you gave them your attention. As if they deserved it.

He came back to his sense after some minutes, hands gripping the pillow as even in his rage, he was still hard from earlier. You did nothing, you did not even speak, he just grabbed your arm, but this single touch send his mind spiralling. Your warmth, when you looked up at him with those eyes. Even when you were sitting on the ground like this, still shocked about what happened, you were intimidating, without wanting to. It made his legs quiver and his body shook as he left as quickly as he could, before he could let out an embarrassing noise in front of you.

He was glad you did not talk because if you did, he would have came on the spot, staining his underwear and pants without a care in the world. Your voice alone could bless his ears, your face and body blessed his eyes, your scent filled his nose and he dreamed of being able to taste you.

He needed to calm down, it was getting out of hand. As he nods to himself, getting ready to go outside, doing his duties and not coming back before the next day, determined to not let his thoughts about you distract him. But unfortunately, he saw you as he jumped out of the window. He saw you with an unknown man, who was talking to you with a big smile as he tried to flirt with you, you shoved him away, looking down at this guy in disgust. But when he tried to touch your arm and you pushed it off immediately, when he tried again to place his hand on your torso again some second after, with a lustful expression on his face, Xiao lost it.

The next second, he was next to you, an animalistic look in his eyes, baring his fangs at the man. His spear materialized in his hands, moving it toward the man's neck instantly. Before Xiao could kill him, you grab his arm, tugging him away. His face hit your torso as you hold him, making him unable to move from your point of view, trying to protect the man.

But for him, it was as if you were trying to hug him. He pressed his face into your body, sniffing your scent as he could not help but take a bite. You would not be mad at him, right?

Sharp fangs pierced through your skin, your eyes widening as the pain paralyse your neck and shoulders, thankfully the man from earlier had already run away, scared for his life. Something vibrated against you, as you looked down, your eyes meeting Xiao's ones. Body trembling as he was moaning against your skin, tasting hungrily your blood and flesh, his head was spinning. When you tried to pry him away, he leaned forward, refusing to retract his teeth and suddenly, he lost his footing, falling against you, crotch rubbing against your thigh. And it was enough.

Something wet got through the fabric of your pants, the wet stain getting bigger and bigger as Xiao sobbed into your arms, eyes rolled back.

He just came, but he was still rutting against your thigh, body tensing as he felt his second high come. He was losing his mind, everything was fading around him as he baths in your warmth. His hips jerked up as you tensed your muscles, helping him grind down harshly. You catch him as he almost falls, knees giving up, pleasure and tension too intense he passed out.

And you stand there, in the middle of the entrance of the Wangshu Inn, with an Adeptus in your arms, pants stained and a bleeding bite mark near your collarbone, you notice how exposed you are. You weren't particularly shy, but you knew that Xiao would not be that comfortable. As gently as you could, you lift him up, carrying him inside. His words muffled into your neck, but you could still discern some whimpers of your name. You head to his room, knowing nobody would dare come here and disturb you. On your way up, you saw Verr Goldet giggle at you as if she knew it was going to happen.

You didn't pass by anybody else on your way, thankfully, because the man in your arms was trying so hard to undress you the moment he woke up, and it would have been a situation difficult to explain. When you finally managed to open the door of his room, your top was almost off and his hands were attempting to take off your pants. When you put him down on his bed, he scrambled to grip your shirt, begging you to not leave him alone. Teary pleading eyes looking up at you, as his face moves closer to your body, he nuzzles against your crotch, tongue darting out, licking the front of your pants as he keeps eye contact.

You could feel your body temperature rise up, covering your face, keeping your eyes away from his dazzling face, if you weren't hard before, now you certainly were. You could feel his tongue move against you through the fabric, drool covering your pants, his nose pressed onto your clothes, sniffling you. He looked like a cat in heat, lapping at you, eyes glowing as his brain shut off.

He was embarrassed, and Xiao felt pathetic. First, you caught him fingering himself to the thought of you, second, he came on you just by rutting against your thigh and third, he was now acting like a desperate whore. He thought about stopping, stepping away from you, but it felt too good. Having you this close was exhilarating, as if he had a chance with you, as if you wanted him too. His thoughts spiralled, he needed to go away before he really loses his mind but at the same time, you were still there. If you wanted him to go away, you would not stay here with him.

As he looks up at you, searching for the answer in your eyes, he noticed how flustered you were. He swells up with pride, he wanted more, he craved your praises. With shaky hands, he moves them to your pants, asking you if he could take them off. He could hear your shaky breaths as you give him the green light. His mouth waters at the thought, and as he pulls your pants and underwear down. He presses his nose at the base of your cock, unable to keep his moans in, your scent was perfect, filling his nose and clouding his head.

With all the adoration he could mutter, he kissed the base, moving up to the tip, licking at the underside vein, moaning at the taste. He finally was able to taste you. He wanted to take you in his mouth completely, but it was his first time, and he was afraid to mess up and not satisfy you. As he starts to panic, a gentle hand is placed on top of his head, ruffling his hair. He gasps at the feeling, your gentle eyes met his, and he blushed violently, heart skipping a beat at the tenderness you were giving.

“Don't force yourself, Xiao. It's all right if you can't do it.”

Your voice blessed his ears, calming him down immediately. The way you said his name, as it rolled off your tongue with so much love… Xiao closed his legs in shock, how such a trivial thing could make him react that way. He needed to focus, he wasn't here to let his thoughts wander, he wanted to make you adore him. If Morax and two other men could have you, he should be able to make you fall for him. It was the first time in such a long time, that he wanted to possess something or someone.

But instead, he did not want you to be his, he needed you to consider him as yours. He had this urge to mark you but, the idea of you marking him was so much better to him. And now that he thought about it, it has been such a long time since he had seen Morax, he should pay him a visit after this.

You were a patient man but with Xiao staying in front of your cock without doing anything, as he was lost in his thoughts, was a bit too much. You could feel your cock twitch as you waited for him to come back to reality. Some minutes passed, and you could see this lovesick expression forming on his face, but he was still not coming back. Since he was so desperate before, he would not mind you taking the lead, right?

With a tight grip on his hair, you moved his head, placing his mouth in front of you. You slowly press the tip against his lips, which opened unconsciously and instantly, you rut into his mouth. The tip enters his throat as you fuck his face. The sudden intrusion made him snap back, and the only thing he could do was grip your thighs, trying to follow your pace.

Xiao gagged around you, he was trying his best to move his tongue to pleasure you, but you were just drilling into him. You were just chasing after your release, using him for your own pleasure, and it made his hips jerk up. He hesitated a bit before moving closer, sitting on your foot as he grinds onto it, he had already come once, and he could feel a strange feeling building up.

He felt you slow down, stopping moving but staying into his mouth. He could see you smirk, waiting for him to do something. With quivering lips, he lapped the drool covering your cock, licking a long strip all the way to the tip before dipping down. He was gagging around you but refused to slow down, swallowing you and tasting your precum with hearts in his eyes. He whimpers as he managed to fit everything into his mouth, he felt like he was suffocating, but he could bear it, as long as you were happy.

You let yourself groan and moan freely, giving him an indication of what you liked. For a virgin, he was really good, his warm mouth was doing wonders, and you were keeping yourself from cumming down his throat. He was moving all the way up and down, worshipping you, licking, sucking, and moaning as each drop of precum would fall into his mouth. His pace was already quick, but he still managed to go faster, your tip hitting the back of his throat every time now, he was constantly swallowing, giving you an overwhelming sensation of tightness, and the urge to cum down his throat but also cover his face was getting stronger.

Suddenly his tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot, and you lost control, emptying yourself into his mouth. As you pulled out, Xiao was whining, your cum still in his mouth, but he refused to swallow immediately. He wished to keep this taste forever. Your hand left his hair, letting him the time to cool down as he was realizing what he did. The drops that landed on his face were wiped away by your finger, before presenting it in front of him. He knew where it was going, and he felt so turned on but also nervous.

He looked at you with lustful eyes as he was licking your finger clean, sucking on it before taking two others in his mouth, kissing and biting lightly till he sucked them as far as he could inside his mouth, a sweet but flustered smile forming on his face. And you snapped. Your cock twitched, becoming hard against. His teasing was too much and as revenge, you mocked him about the mess he made on your shoes. With your pants left pooling at your ankles, they were covered in cum along with your shoes, as if he was obsessed with shooting it on you.

“Clean it off.”

He flushed red, embarrassment and shame coursing through his body, as he gets up to grab a tissue, you repeat yourself.

“With your tongue.”

His facial expression was priceless, you were sure he was going to refuse, but he kneeled, and leaned forward, tongue lolling out before lapping at the mess he left on you. Despite his tensed posture, you could see how hard he was and each word that left your mouth was leaving his cock throbbing in excitement. His eyes were filled with such adoration, he even decided to kneel for someone else than his god. It was impressive and it took you by surprise.

As your shoes were clean, he stayed on the floor, waiting for you to order him around. You wondered how far you could go before he could break. With an amused smile, you ask him to undress completely, before asking him to sit on the bed. His body was shaking slightly as he sat on the bed, legs spreading indecently, his hand pumping his own dick. If he was already like this for his first time, the next time will be quite exceptional.

You kneeled on the bed, his legs on each side of you as you lean forward, kissing, licking and biting his jaw, leaving marks that will stay for days. Your fingers covered in his saliva snaked their way to Xiao's ass, you placed them against his rim, listening to him sucking in a breath as he tries to calm down and relax. You could not go too quickly, afraid to hurt him, you did not mind degrading him a bit, but it was still his first time and destroying him that way was not an option.

The first finger made him whine in pain as he fights the urge to close his legs. It took you some long minutes to make his body relax completely. The second was even worse, he started to cry, trashing around but when you tried to pull away, he hugged you closer, asking for more time to adapt. The third one was both your favourite as it made him whimper beautifully, legs spreading further, with his hands digging into your back and his face buried into your neck. In this position, he was moaning directly into your ear, making it difficult to focus on his reaction as the only thing you wanted is to fuck him so good that he would cry, and only remember your name.

As you thrust your fingers inside one last time, making sure he was ready, a loud moan filled the room. You accidentally hit dead-on one of his most sensitive spots, and he came all over his stomach instantly, eyes losing their focus.

It took him some long minutes to come back to reality, but when he did, he grabbed your neck suddenly, kissing you fervently as he urges you to continue. Cheeks flushed red in both embarrassment and pleasure, his small hand guiding your dick to his hole as he begs you to take him. His hips twitched down in the hope it would make you enter him immediately, he was so damn sensitive, body twitching as he could not process how many times he came, he could not control his reactions anymore. Any self-control just flew out the window, living only a whiny and lustful man on the bed, begging to be filled up, to feel good.

You sink into him slowly, the tip already making him whimper at the pleasure, if only he looked down, he would see how little he took in. His legs wrapped around you, searching for any support before he loses his mind, it seems like you weren't stopping, just how big were you? Or maybe he was just the small one. Your name leaves his lips repeatedly, each whimper cut off by your name, as he chants it like a prayer. You weren't a monster, as you decide to wait, letting him enough time to adjust to your size, his small body adapting to you. You thought he was moulded just for you.

Finally, he asked you to move and immediately, you pushed all the way into him, hitting as deep as you could, your tip kissing his prostate. You were too far turned on to keep the slow pace for so long and quickened it, tears sliding down his cheeks as you thrust up, each strike going so deep in him, he thought he was going to break. His inside moulding to your length, and at this point, he was sure nobody could fuck him after you.

Your pace was punishing, pushing him to the edge without letting him breathe. It has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the way his walls were pulsing around you, clenching so tightly you could cum on the spot. His mouth took away all your endurance and the nights before tired you out, you just needed to make him cum. Your mind forgetting everything else, you were just focused on making him lose it. Just imagining how hard he could fall for you and your cock, unable to think about anything else, his duties becoming nothing compared to a good night with you, even if it was only one hour… An Adeptus being yours, was driving you crazy.

You leaned forward, forearms placed on the bed, on each side of his head as you speed up, skin clapping loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls. You were fucking him just the way he wanted it, fulfilling his most lustful wishes. His legs started to quiver with each thrust into him, eyes rolling back, useless whimpers being the only thing that told you he still hasn't passed out. He was panting, chasing after his breaths. His nails breaking the skin, ruining your arms as the blood pooled on the sheets, he keeps repeating one word over and over, 'god'.

His fucked-out face forcing you to be rougher, bringing him to tears and incomprehensible pleads, imploring you to let him finish and stay with him forever. He was about to break, he was just on the edge and what made him cum was not one hard thrust, but when you kissed him on the top of his head. The sound coming from him almost made you cum, he bit you, fangs piercing through the skin of your shoulder as ropes of cum covered his stomach. He loses all control of himself.

But as you were going to pull out without being able to orgasm, as you knew how tired and out of it he was, you did not expect him to tug you forward. With his last strength, he urges you to continue, begging you to cum in him. There was no hesitation in his voice, just desperation and lust. Immediately, you rut into him, as fast as you could to finish quickly, he was almost screaming as the pleasure was too strong, overstimulated to the point he could pass out. His mind became blank, but before he could start to go lax, you came.

A sudden warmth spread into his stomach, as you empty your load into him. This sensation was the last straw, as he came one more time, but he was too tired and his body could not produce anything more. So, only some pitiful drop of cum came out, before he pissed a little over himself. And thankfully, he was too high to process what he has just done, saving him from this embarrassment.

He was ruined, covered in cum and piss, drool everywhere and the sheets had some stain from your blood, his nails really destroyed you. In between Zhongli ruining your stomach by digging his claws in hit and Xiao ruining your arms, you looked like you just came back from a war.

Even in his fucked-out state, Xiao looked cute, his lips as kissable as ever and his body tempting you to kiss and mark it even more. But for now, you needed to take care of him, because there was no way he would wake up soon. Gently, you picked him up, watching as the cum spilt onto the floor, his loose hole not keeping anything inside, you made a mental note that you need to clean the floor and change the bedsheets.

As you sit in the bathtub with him, delicately cleaning him off, scrubbing and even exfoliating his skin for him, you nearly fall asleep on the spot. His warm body resting against you lulling you to sleep, but sleeping there was not the best idea. As you placed him on the bed, searching for clothes to change him into, you're surprised by the little to nothing he had. With a frown, you quickly made a run to your room, grabbing comfortable clothes without being seen before coming back, changing him. The clothes were clearly too big, but at least he was cosy and warm in them.

You tuck him into bed, joining him as you hold him close, hiding his body under yours, creating a shield. Your warmth engulfed him and gave him a feeling of safety as if you would protect him from everything. He subconsciously curls up against you, seeking more of your affectionate embrace.

You spend the night with him, keeping him close to you as you rest, feeling at peace, eyes closed shut and your brain turn off. Xiao was surprisingly still sleeping, he did not need to, but his subconscious let him enjoy it a bit longer. His night was without a nightmare, for the first time. Only you were appearing in his dream, your charming face close to his as you tell him that you love him, confessing. He felt like he was floating, heart-swelling up with love and endless adoration, he wanted to stay by your side. But suddenly, the man from last night appeared beside you, body pressing against you as he tiptoed to kiss you, just in front of him. Even in his dream, rage consumed his mind and he woke up, your relaxed face was the first thing he saw.

But it did not calm him down, this man was in the way. He needed to stay away from you, and as you were oblivious, he left the room in a hurry. He came back not so long after, taking back his place in your arms. Shyly, he moved a bit, so your faces were aligned, and he kissed you, before sinking his teeth in the mark he left earlier. A light blinded him for a second, before the mark emerged, as he was satisfied to have marked you.

But something strange happened, something was burning him as he whimpers in pain. He looks down at his stomach, the same mark as you appeared, leaving him speechless. A single tear escaped his eyes at the thought that you were now linked, his heart beating loudly into his ribcage. Unbeknown to him, he was not the only one. The two other men that you spend a night with and managed to leave a mark on you, also received the same, with three little stars on the side. But Xiao was too euphoric to notice it.

The next day, you woke up with Xiao, enjoying your morning together as you were oblivious to the chaos happening some kilometres away, the corpse of a familiar man was found in a river. He was unrecognizable as his face got torn apart, and his body was destroyed, or more like what remains of the body.

At the same time, our dear Traveller was heading to the Wangshu Inn, admiring the impressive structure again before entering, greeting Verr Goldet on the way as she was used to seeing him. It has been such a long time since he has not seen Xiao, and he wanted to take some news and make sure he was taking care of himself. As he walked up the stairs leading to the top of the inn, he was surprised by the usual friendly cats hissing at him.

Finally, after he managed to shoo them away, he was going to say Xiao's name when he sees an unknown man sitting on the ground. He was reading a book peacefully, with the Adeptus sleeping, his head resting on his lap. The man would occasionally run his hand through Xiao's hair gently as if he was reassuring him that he could stay asleep. The bright smile that the man offered him, confused the traveller, but a blush still creep up onto his cheeks, the top of his ears and neck burning under the curious gaze. The attractive man in front of him not breaking the eye contact as he keeps ruffling the Adeptus' hair. As the traveller looks down, he freezes suddenly at the view of the anemo mark on the man's shoulder. Eyes darting from the mark to the sleeping Adeptus as he finally looks back up at the stranger's face.

He needed to know who he was. The power that was leaking from his body sent shivers up his spine as the thought of kneeling in front of him crossed his mind. Was he important enough that Xiao was able to peacefully sleep beside him, with his guard down?

“Who… are you?”

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

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starrgaziinggg · 1 year

Text

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS | lee minho

You finally meet the man your friends Felix and Hyunjin have been blabbing about for the past couple months, and he's a royal pain in the ass.

Lee Minho is a legacy at your university. He received an honorary award when he graduated, got a position as a dancer in a company a week after receiving his diploma...and was renowned as the schools famous ice-cold fuckboy.

After coming back from a three month tour, you're introduced to him through your uni friends...and your life does a 180. It's hard enough to pass classes whilst also trying to navigate your failing relationship...but the added tension that comes with the dance prodigy you seem to be spending more and more time with?

Some would say it's too much to handle.

|Non idol AU|university AU|friends to lovers|

part four

"Jesus, you're soaking, come in," Minho rushes. You're honestly surprised he's in on a Friday night, but you're not complaining. He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, furrowing his eyebrows as he steps aside. "What are you doing here?"

Your voice catches in your throat when you attempt to answer him. What were you doing here? Sure, he'd told you that you could talk to him if you wanted to, but Hyunjin and Felix were also ten minutes down the road. So why had you come to Minho's? Maybe you'd never know.

"Honestly? I'm not sure," you rush, taking off your jacket and placing it on his outstretched arm. "You said you'd listen if I needed to talk shit about my ex, and I don't know if you were being serious, but -"

"I was," he cuts you off, placing your jacket on a radiator in his hallway. "Your ex?"

"My ex," you confirm. He raises his eyebrows with a sigh.

"Why don't I give you some dry clothes to change into, open a bottle of wine, and we can talk all about it?" He offers. You only nod, following him to wherever he was going. You end up standing outside his bedroom, nervously teetering in the doorframe as he picks out clothes for you to wear. Once he's done so, he places the clothes in your arms.

"You can change here. I'll be in the living room," he gives you a half smile before turning on his heel. You close his bedroom door, changing into a pair of grey joggers similar to the ones he's wearing, and a loose fitting t-shirt. It's only when you look at yourself in his mirror, clad in his clothing, that you start thinking this was a stupid idea.

Despite yourself, once changed you join Minho in his living room, where he's got two wine glasses and a bottle of red on his coffee table. He looks up at you with an expression you can't really decipher as you take a seat on the sofa, keeping a small distance between the two of you.

"So," he starts, breaking the silence and pouring you a glass. "I take it something happened for you to come here?"

"Yeah," you take a sip instantly, needing alcohol to get through the situation you'd created for yourself. "I was going to talk to Seungmin about it, but he was out with his team."

Minho nods. "What happened?"

You sigh, holding your glass as you lean back into his sofa. "It's a long story."

"We have all night," he points out, taking a drink from his own glass.

"I was meant to go talk to Doha today, question him about if he was seeing someone else," you start to explain, trying to keep your story as short as possible. The quiet sound of whatever show Minho was watching plays on the tv, helping to reduce the awkward silence between your words. "I went, expecting him to say yes, whatever, and go our separate ways. I wasn't going to cause a fuss since I knew we weren't working out, but that didn't happen."

"Don't tell me he was with her went you went to talk to him?" He guesses. You shake your head.

"Worse than that."

"Worse? What could be worse than walking in on them?"

"Walking in on them, and your best friend is the girl he's been cheating on you with," you answer him, your voice cold.

"Fuck," Minho breathes out, his eyes wide. "The she-witch?"

"The very same. We'd been friends for our whole lives. And the worst part is, I was planning to go to see her after I'd seen him to finally tell her we were breaking up, since I hadn't told her yet," you almost laugh.

"How did they react?" Minho asks, and you're honestly surprised at how invested he is in your story.

"Doha just looked shocked, but didn't really seem to care. Sooyun though, she chased me out his dorm crying, practically begging me to hear her out. I told her never to talk to me again."

Minho whistles, a look you could only describe as pride on his face. "Good for you. You not more sad about the whole thing?"

"More angry than sad," you answer, scooping the rest of the contents of your wine glass. "I'm fucking pissed that I spent four years with him, defended him when you guys would talk shit. I feel like a fucking idiot, like, was I that blind?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Minho says, reverting back to his annoying, brazen self, earning himself a scowl. "But, you were only blind because you were in love. People tend to ignore the bad parts of a person when they're trying to make things work."

You nod, letting Minho refill your empty glasses. "I guess. He's just not the same person I fell in love with."

"People change. They forget themselves, it's not hard to do."

You cock an eyebrow.

"Trust me, I'm not making excuses for him. He's a cunt, end of. I'm just saying that it's not your fault," he explains himself. "I'm saying it's easy for people to lose track of what's actually good for them, in favour of what they think they want. That's nothing on you, so don't think that. You don't think that, do you?"

"No," you say instantly. You know you weren't the reason your relationship failed, you wouldn't do yourself the dishonour of pinning the blame on yourself. "It's just...I dunno, the only thing running through my mind is why her? Why, of all people, my best friend? What did she give him that I couldn't?"

"Maybe sex more than once every two months," Minho says without hesitation, and as much as you want to kill him, you snicker at the comment before you can scowl. "I mean, that's just ridiculous."

"It wasn't like I didn't try!" You laugh, squeezing your eyes shut out of embarrassment. "He was never in the mood, or he'd brush me off. I just thought he was going through a phase, fuck knows. I should have known he was fucking someone else."

"Mm, you should have. That's practically inhumane," Minho chuckles.

You scoff. "Okay, not everyone is a sex crazed maniac like you, Minho."

He shakes his head with a laugh, "And how would you know anything about my sex life?"

"Oh come on," you fire back instantly. "Don't act dim. Lee Minho, our universities ice-cold fuck boy. I think every student in the past four years knows the details of your sex life."

"At least my reputation still proceeds itself," he takes another drink. "Wish people would mind their own business more, though."

"When you fuck half the girl population of a university, it pretty much becomes everyone's business," you point out, picking up the bottle of wine to refill your glasses, until you realise the two of you have already finished an entire bottle. Minho gets up to get another from the wine rack by the dining table. "You keep your wine in your living room?"

"Just the red," he answers from the other side of the room, choosing another bottle. "It's warmer in here. Anyway, I definitely didn't fuck half the girls. I'm picky."

"Oh really? That's not what I heard."

"And what did you hear?" Minho questions, returning to the sofa with another bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glasses as you talk.

"What didn't I hear? 'Lee Minho, the most good looking guy in our uni, slept with me. Albeit only once and he never spoke to me again'," you mock a conversation you'd overheard once.

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Who was that?"

"I dunno," you respond lazily, crossing you legs. "Some girl in my year at the end of last term. Doesn't matter, point is I'm right."

"Oh really?" He challenges. "Did you know half those stories were made up? Sure, I've slept with a fair amount of people, but not half as many as people think. A lot of girls started this stupid bet to see who out of their friend groups I'd sleep with, so I just stopped going for uni girls."

You give him a look, and he shakes his head, almost as if he's embarrassed.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," he sighs. You point to the bottle on the coffee table.

"It's the wine, makes you tell all your secrets. Do you have any other interesting stories from your university days?" You ask.

And that's how you spend the next hour, talking about whatever springs to mind regarding horror stories from your uni. It was interesting to you, hearing what happened from Minho's point of view. It gets to the point where your opening your third bottle of wine, definitely feeling it's effects, laughing as Minho talks.

"They got caught in the cupboard?" You question, listening to another one of Minho's stories.

"It was awful, the second hand embarrassment I got that day - I'm pretty sure they both dropped out."

"No wonder," you scoff. "Getting caught having sex in a cupboard during a lecture is pretty much the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you."

You were honestly shocked at how well this night had turned out, considering you were running on anger and stress when you'd arrived at Minho's, half expecting him to turn you away. But here you were, laughing at chatting like life long friends.

"Tell me about it," Minho laughed. "You have any interesting stories?"

"Have you heard about the time Hyunjin ripped his trousers in dance practice?" You said excitedly, noticing your empty glass.

"No, I most definitely haven't," Minho replied with a smirk, looking forward to poking fun at his friend. Before he got the chance to, though, you'd gone to reach for the wine bottle and accidentally knocked it over.

"Fuck," you said lowly, the two of you standing up as you caught the bottle. Only a small amount had spilled, and luckily Minho's living room had wooden flooring, but you felt terrible all the same.

"No, it's fine, I'll get paper towels," Minho said, being chill about it and heading to the kitchen. He returned quickly, handing you a couple sheets. You dipped down, using the paper to soak up the wine. Minho did the same thing, moving closer to you to get the bits you missed.

Once you'd managed to clean most of it, he took the used kitchen towels from you gently. "There," he said with a smile. "Not a problem."

It was only at this point you'd noticed the proximity between the two of you. Maybe it was the tension in the room, the two of you drunk off the wine you'd been drinking. Or maybe, you were just feeling rejected, lonely after the awful scene you'd walked into earlier in the night. But for whatever reason, you felt your body leaning towards his, time coming to a stand still.

Until Minho places a hand on your shoulder, slowly pushing you back. "I, uh, don't think that's a great idea."

You literally felt your stomach drop at the words, snapping out of whatever trance you'd got yourself into. Seriously, what were you doing? Throwing yourself at Minho the second you had an opportunity? Sure, you were only doing it because you were drunk, but still. How were you ever supposed to make a good impression in front of Hyunjin and Felix's friends like this.

"God, sorry," you say, backing away from him and standing up instantly. "That was so stupid of me."

"No, just -" Minho started, though it was clear he didn't really know what he was trying to say.

"No, I should go," you say hurriedly, just wanting to get yourself out of there as soon as you could. "Thanks for everything tonight. Sorry."

"No, it's so late - you're drunk, you can't walk back -"

"I'll be fine, seriously," you say, grabbing your jacket from the radiator and heading to the door. "I'll give you your clothes back the next time I see you."

"C'mon," Minho looked at you with wide eyes, hesitant to open the door for you. "You don't need to leave like this."

"Please let me go," is all you say, and you can tell he can read your expression as he wordlessly opens the door and lets you walk out.

You practically fled down the stairs, not looking back. Fuck, what the hell had you just done? You'd taken Minho's unusual kindness for granted and used it as an opportunity to go for him. You felt like such an idiot, for the second time that day, as you sped walked back to your dorm. You went straight into your bedroom without a second thought, closing the door behind you.

You wanted to scream. Your brain felt like it had been blended, unable to pin a single thought down. You snapped out of it when you heard a knock at your door.

"Hey, you there? Minho's just texted me asking if you got home okay," you heard Seungmin say from the other side of the door. You couldn't help the tears that spilled from your eyes, the caring sound in his voice sending you over the edge.

You opened the door slowly, looking at Seungmin through your eyelashes that were thick with tears. He just wordlessly pulled your towards him, hugging you without a second thought.

You spend the rest of your night in your room with Seungmin, telling him everything that had happened, starting from your bus journey to Doha's and ending with you fleeing from Minho's apartment. He didn't judge you for going to Minho's, knowing you only went because you were angry, upset and stressed. He'd even apologised for not being there for you when you got back from Doha's, but you'd told him not to be silly.

You'd sat together on your bed, cross legged as he listened intently while you spoke, cried, whatever. You were so thankful for the boy in front of you. You'd known him less than a year, been close with him less than two months, yet here he was being a better friend than Sooyun had ever been to you. You'd drifted off somewhere in between talking, sound asleep when Seungmin put your bedcovers over you and left.

The next week was consumed with your sulking. Hyunjin and Felix had been given the shortened version of events, the one that didn't include you going to their friends house and making a move on him. Seungmin had promised to keep it a secret, and you knew he would. He also said Minho probably wouldn't tell anyone else, since he wasn't that type of person, which you were thankful for.

When it got to Thursday, you felt drained, a million thoughts running through your head. You were in the library with Felix and Hyun, and you could feel their eyes on you.

"Yes?" You said, looking to and from your friends. Hyunjin quickly looked away, diverting his eyes from your gaze, whereas Felix only increased his sad look towards you.

"I'm sick of this," Hyunjin announces, unable to take your miserable moping anymore. "You need to be reminded of how fun life can be when you're not tied down by a rotten man."

Felix nods enthusiastically, blonde mullet shaking. "It makes me sad seeing you so sad."

You sigh. "What do you suggest?"

"We're all going out tomorrow. Clubbing. We'll get the guys in on it too, what do you think?" Hyunjin suggests, an enthusiastic smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

"I dunno, we've got our mid semester examination next week. I know it's not that important, but still," you counter. It's a weak excuse, and you know that.

"Oh come on, you really think we're going to give in to that?" Felix says sweetly. "We just want to see you smiling again."

That's what gets you. Felix's kind words and Hyunjin's pleading eyes. You end up giving in quickly, and it's not long until you're throwing all the clothes you own onto the ground, unable to find anything club suitable.

Seungmin, Jeongin and, unluckily for you Minho, had been roped into coming clubbing too. Lucky for Chan, Jisung and Changbin, they had valid excuses for not being able to attend, unlike you.

"You ready yet?" Seungmin shouted through to you, clearly waiting for you so you could head out together. You'd planned to have a couple drinks at your dorm with the boys before you went out, so you were rushing to get ready before they showed up.

"No," you answered with a groan. Seungmin pushed open the door to your room and rolled his eyes. "I have nothing to wear."

"You have heaps of clothes," he counters, leaning against your door. "Wait till Jeongin comes over, he's good with fashion, get him to pick you something."

"Okay," you sighed, deciding to put your faith in Jeongin.

"Good, I'm going to the shop to get drink so if the boys come, buzz them in," he lets you know, so you nod up at him. "And, for the love of god, stop sulking. Makes you look ugly. We're gonna have a good night."

You flip Seungmin off, but stand up and attempt to shake yourself out of the bad mood you were in all the same. Not long after, you heard your intercom buzz and pressed the button to let them in, heart rate spiking. As much as you hated to admit it, you were nervous about seeing Minho, after making nothing short of a fool out of yourself in front of him a week ago. You were lucky Jeongin was the first one to walk into your dorm.

"Hey," you said, giving him a wave. Hyunjin smiled at you from behind him, the other two boys behind him. "Seungmin said you could help me pick out an outfit?"

Jeongin seemed to light up at that, a grin appearing on his face. "Of course I can!"

"Good, cause I'm about to have a meltdown," you laughed, motioning for him to follow you to your bedroom. You shouted through to the boys. "Seungmin's at the shops but there's some alcohol in the kitchen."

They nod and chat amongst themselves as they make their way through to the kitchen/living area of your dorm as you lead Jeongin to your room.

"Oh my," his jaw drops upon walking into your bomb site of a room, clothes strewn everywhere. You laugh at his reaction, thankful that you got to see him before inevitably facing Minho.

"I'm the worst when it comes to putting an outfit together. I haven't been clubbing for ages," you explain, watching as he starts rummaging through your clothes.

"Don't worry," he says cheerfully, and you swear you've never seen him without a smile on his face. "I'll sort you something out."

You spend the next ten minutes laughing and chatting with Jeongin as he picks out your outfit, spending a while putting different things together until he picks you out something you honestly never would have chosen, but end up loving it as soon as you put it on. Spending time with Jeongin had honestly loosened you up a bit, since you'd been stressed about seeing Minho all night.

When the two of you walked through to your kitchen/living area, Seungmin had returned and the boys were already downing shots like they were going out of fashion. You're instantly handed a shot on arrival, as is Jeongin, and you both give each other a shrug as you down them. You were going clubbing after all, and everyone knows it's only fun once you get a drink in you.

"So, you excited for tonight?" Felix asks you as he pours you a proper drink using the alcohol Seungmin had bought, the two of you in the kitchen area of the room. Hyunjin and Minho are talking on the sofa, whereas Jeongin and Seungmin have perched themselves on the breakfast bar stools.

"As excited as I can be, I guess," you say nervously, trying not to look at the man sitting on the sofa to the left of you. You'd assumed Minho hadn't told the other boys what had happened between the two of you, since you know Hyun and Felix wouldn't hesitate to berate you for your poor decision making and drunk antics. What better way than to try and forget about them by drinking again? Hair of the dog, as Hyunjin would say.

"Oh cheer up, bubs," Felix smiles, nudging your shouldering with his own from beside you. "You don't need either of them. You've got us now."

"Stop being cringe, Felix," Jeongin screws his face up with a wide smile. "He's right, though. We can have fun dancing tonight so you can forget about them!"

Seungmin scoffs. "Easier said that done, Jeong," he faces you. "You just need to fuck someone else to get over him."

Jeongin's innocent eyes widen as you laugh. "Two very different opinions," you point out as you all but down your drink, wanting to feel the effects of the alcohol you were drinking.

"Regardless," Felix speaks up. "Drinking always solves life problems."

"I'd say it creates more," Seungmin counters. "Every time you drink you say you're never drinking again."

"Whatever," you hear Felix huff as the two younger boys laugh at his reaction, giving him a nudge.

You were lucky that Hyunjin and Minho kept their conversation going almost the whole time you were in your dorm, the two of them seemingly forgetting the rest of you were there. God knows what they were discussing, but you paid it no mind as you got yourself drunk.

You all decided it was time to leave when Felix's drinks were capped, Hyunjin swooping in to stop his best friend getting too drunk too quickly. You all took two Ubers to the club, the group splitting in half. And, surprise surprise, Minho just so happened to go into the Uber you hadn't gone into, Hyunjin and Lix joining you instead.

It wasn't until you were all actually at the club that you thought he was avoiding you, lights flashing and music blaring, as you realised he was seemingly making every conscious effort to steer clear from you.

You'd all walked into the club together, all gotten drinks together, sure, but had Minho spoken one word directly to you? Not a single one. Seungmin had even flashed you a strange look at one point, noticing the weird behaviour of his friend.

You paid it no mind as you danced with Jeongin, laughing and smiling with the younger boy who was beginning to become one of your favourite people. You knocked back drinks with Seungmin, the only one out of the group that could keep up with your drinking pace. You'd even ended up sandwiched between Felix and Hyun at one point, the two of them whipping out the worlds worst dance moves to make you laugh.

And you were having a great time, you really were, but the fact that wherever you were Minho was not was starting to drive you insane. You knew you'd fucked up by trying to kiss him last week. You were well aware of it, in fact. But it didn't mean the two of you couldn't be friends, right? So, why was Minho being so insistent on icing you out?

You didn't even get time to dwell on it, because after you'd rejoined with Felix who had waited outside the bathroom for you so you weren't wandering around on your own, you caught a glimpse of the man of the hour with his arm slung round some leggy brunette.

Realistically, no part of you should have felt any jealousy in this situation. You're both single, so uninvolved with each other that you couldn't get farther apart, and yet here you were, giving them the daggers. Luckily your blonde best friend was far too drunk to notice your pathetic pining, just grabbing your hand to lead you back to the rest of the boys.

Maybe you were only jealous because he rejected you. Maybe it was because even though he rejected you, you actually got on well with him a lot of the time and still wanted to be friends, yet he seemed not to care less. Or maybe, you wished you were in her position.

You couldn't help it. You were infuriatingly and undeniably attracted to the cocky, endearing and witty man that was looking into the eyes of the girl beside him like he wanted to fuck her. It was just a stupid crush, a result of hearing about how god like he was from Felix and Hyunjin for months, and you knew that. But it didn't take away the burning feeling in your chest.

It was somewhere between the sixth shot or fourth drink of the night that you noticed him leave the club with the girl, her leading him through the crowd. You'd only noticed because of Jeongin's comment.

"There he goes again," he said with a chuckle. "At least Jisung doesn't have to hear him anymore."

Your hangover lasted the whole weekend. You'd lost any memory of the night from after Minho had left, but Seungmin had informed you that you'd all stayed maybe an hour longer before he took you home. He had admitted you were not in a great state, but neither was he, and from what he remembers of coming home he'd helped you brush your teeth and sent you to bed. You'd woken up with your makeup still on, your clothes from last night clinging to your body, and a killer headache.

When you'd showed up to your classes of the week after spending the rest of the weekend dying on the sofa and watching old movies with Seungmin, Hyunjin and Felix almost felt as bad as you looked. The sunglasses and hoodie you'd sported on Monday had made you look like Maddie from Euphoria, and the boys had fully understood their essential purpose, the bags under your eyes unfit to be viewed by human kind.

You'd decided you'd contracted some sort of illness when, on the Wednesday, you were still feeling like shit. You couldn't go to a lecture without coughing your lungs up, falling asleep or having to take a couple of paracetamol tablets. It couldn't have come at a worse time, since your mid semester practical dance examination was on Friday and you still hadn't even finished choreographing your two minute routine.

Trying to ignore the fact you were feeling rotten, you'd booked one of the modern dance studio rooms to at least finish choreographing your routine. Felix had promised to join and help you, so imagine your surprise when none other than Lee Minho pushes open the door to the room your attempting to dance in.

"What the fuck?" You can't help but breathe out, your thoughts getting the better of yourself as you start coughing, out of breathe. "Where's Lix?"

Minho saunters in unfazed, as if you didn't try to kiss him two weeks ago, or he didn't ignore you the whole night last weekend. He looks great, you hate to admit, baggy black trousers and loose fitting white t-shirt hanging perfectly on him, leaning against the mirrored wall as he speaks up.

"He didn't tell you?" He questions, which you shake your head at as you take a sip of water from your bottle. "He's not gonna be here for another hour and a half, and he said you only booked the room out for three hours so he asked me to help you until he could make it."

You groan, your lifeless body slumping onto the floor. "Why can't he be here?"

"You act as if you aren't excited to see me," Minho says, his tone jarring. "I'm doing you a favour, here."

"No," you retort huffily. "You're doing Lix a favour."

"I'm here helping you, aren't I?" He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking at you with a fed up expression. "Felix said it's your mid sem exam on Friday."

"Yup," you answer, not knowing if you're loving or hating the fact he seems to not have any interest in discussing the topics hanging in the air between to two of you.

"So, show me what you've got so far," he raises an eyebrow, holding his hand out as if to say, go on.

So, you heave yourself off the floor, play the music you'd chosen for your exam and start to dance. You took a quick glance at Minho's expression a couple times, unable to read what he's thinking until you finish dancing before the music stops and he nods his head.

"What you've got so far is good," he starts, pulling himself off of the mirrored wall.

"But?" You say, breathless as you wait for him to continue.

"I know you can do better," he chooses to say, and you huff in a bratty manner.

"You know, I've never even seen you dance," you point out. "You're always so quick to critique me when you could be shit for all I know."

He thinks for a second, looking up as if searching his brain for the information he's looking for, until he finally decides what he wants to say. "How about this. I dance for you, show you I actually know what I'm talking about as if you're not already aware I'm a good dancer, and you stop being a brat and let me help you."

You choose to ignore the cocky comment hidden in his statement, choosing to nod your head and move to sit beside the mirrored wall instead, as Minho moves to the middle of the room. It's only a small practice room, one of the ones in the new building, but it works for when you want to practice in peace.

Minho uses his phone to choose a piece of music to dance to wordlessly, looking as though he couldn't care less about having to perform in front of you. You have a million bitchy comments ready on the top of your tongue, but you're stupidly shut up when the man starts to dance.

He's incredible. He makes every move look easy, performing them flawlessly without a second thought. He's captivating to watch, and you realise you're biting back every comment you wanted to make, entranced as you watch the man before you move.

He doesn't even break a sweat when he's finished, as if this is easy work for him, which you guess it is since he literally dances for a living. He turns the music off, and as soon as you're waiting for him to make some cocky, snarky remark, he only tilts his head in your direction. It's at this point you wonder if he actually was nervous to perform for you, his eyes looking straight into yours to look for any sign that you didn't enjoy it.

"Okay, so you know how to dance," you say, not wanting to lick his ass too much. "Help me fix my dance."

He chuckles at you, a hearty sound that makes you realise you've missed hearing him laugh, since everything got too heavy between you both. All your doing, you know, but still.

He spends the next hour watching you perform for him, fixing your positioning in places you're lacking and dancing alongside you to add in new moves. You tell him he can't change it too much, since you're supposed to choreograph the majority of himself, and he starts asking you questions. It's weird, how Minho can turn you voicing your ideas into actual moves that flow perfectly in your dance. You realise everything that's been said about how spectacular of a dancer Minho is was true.

At one point, he's behind you, watching you move from through the mirror. You only scuff up your move because you feel him staring at you, eyes piercing through you with a stone cold expression. He stops you all the same, catching the arm that moved when it shouldn't have done in his hand and gently pulling it back down.

"Thought you could let that slip past me, huh?" He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you as he moves in closer behind you to reposition your arm. Your breath catches in your throat when he puts his free hand on your hip to move your body to the side. "Again."

You try not to let your facial expression falter as you redo the move, knowing he's watching you from the mirror. He raises his eyes in approval when he watches you complete the move correctly, but doesn't make any attempt to move away from you, instead moving impossibly closer to talk into your ear. "Much better."

You can't take it any more. You practically shake yourself, slipping out of his hold to turn your back to mirror and screw your eyes shut, shaking your head as you talk.

"Stop it," you say to him, opening your eyes to his half smirk.

"Stop what?" He says stupidly, playing dumb.

You sigh, exasperated. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"Enlighten me."

It's like a challenge, the way he says it. Tell me what you're thinking, he's saying in less words. Tell me why you don't want me to touch you.

"Stop playing fucking dumb, Minho," you almost groan in defeat, knowing how easy it is for him to get you to crack. "You flirt with me, act like a cocky bastard and push me to my limits just to brush me off and ignore me. It's impossible - you're impossible."

He stays quiet, just eyeing you up, until he says, "You're hot when you get all riled up like this, you know."

You want to scream. "What?" You say, fed up with the mixed signals.

"You heard me," is all Minho says, refusing to back down.

Your back is almost right against the mirror now, and you don't know whether that's because Minho's moving forward or your just instinctively moving backwards.

"You have no idea what it's like to be on the receiving end of this torture," you huff, but you don't get another word in edgeways when Minho actually does take a step closer to you, minimising the gap between you both.

"No," he starts, taking his restraints off. "You don't understand what it's like to have you consume every thought I have."

Oh?

"I hardly know you, yet I can't stop thinking about you. You act as if I'm being mean to you by ignoring you, but I'm doing you a favour," he goes on to say, and you're even more confused. "Do you know, when you leaned into me that night, how badly I wanted to kiss you?"

Oh?

You know you look like a mess in front of him, out of breath from dancing and the way he's staring at you with those eyes.

"It took everything in me to push you away, because I knew if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to stop. And that wouldn't have been fair to you. You were so upset, and angry, and I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd taken advantage of that," he explains, his jaw clenching as he talks, as if it's taking just as much restraint as it did then, now.

"Why didn't you explain that instead of ignoring me?" You manage to say, your voice quiet.

"I would have, if you hadn't run out of my apartment without a second thought."

Ah. That kind of shuts you up. "I don't really know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I didn't not kiss you because I'm not attracted to you, or I don't like you. Cause it's pretty obvious, I do."

"Didn't stop you from going home with that girl the other night," You can't help but say, regretting the words almost as soon as they leave your mouth.

Minho almost laughs, but appears to stop himself. You already think he's making fun of you for this whole thing, whatever that is, but looking at how adorable you looked asking about that girl cracks him.

"I put her in a cab, sent her home and went home myself afterwards. Don't start getting clingy now, though," he warns, the raised eyebrow he sports making you feel all kinds of nervous. "It was your night, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable after what had happened the week before."

"It would have made me less uncomfortable if you'd have just talked to me," you point out, tilting your head at him. He moves closer, almost, almost touching you.

"If I'd have spoken to you, the night would have ended with you back at mine and that pretty little outfit Jeongin chose for you on the floor."

You don't have a second to react, since cockblock of the century Lee Felix opens the door to the studio as you pretty much shove Minho away from you, acting as if he didn't just admit he wants to fuck you.

"Hey, hey, god I'm sorry! I forgot I had an assignment for one of my extracurriculars, so I've been in the library since class ended working on it!" Felix explains, rushing his words and dumping his bag on the floor. "Has Minho helped?"

You can't even begin to find the words to reply to your best friend, so your thankful when Minho steps in in an attempt to save the situation. "Yeah, choreo's done, just needs cleaned it up."

"Great, you gonna stay longer?" Felix asks Minho, who shakes his head.

"Nah, I have to get back to feed the cats," Minho says, giving you a wink that goes undetected by Felix and makes you want to hit your head against the wall whilst he says his goodbyes to Lix and leaves the room. You cant focus when Felix starts babbling, putting his dance trainers on and tying his hair up.

And even though you're so confused as to whatever the hell had just happened, the one thing going through your mind was, Minho has cats?

PART FIVE HERE!

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onmyyan · 2 years

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Straight Venomous

Ch.7 · word count: 5,782 · A/N: omg so my phone broke sorry for the delay buuuut chapter seven is here!! we getting into now girls gays n theys, cursing canon typical violence tw gore, tw yandere shit, tw Jason's potty mouth feedback is always welcome hope you enjoy EDITED 1/11/2023

It was a rare sight to see all the Wayne men in one place, especially at the dinner table. Alfred couldn't have been happier, he'd been a fury in the kitchen all day. The first to arrive was the pair of Tim and Dick, they greeted to older man with warmth but the sense of seriousness wasn't unseen by the Butler, in fact, he was only more sure something was wrong when shortly after their arrival, Jason climbed in through the kitchen window, a sight that reminded Alfred of his younger days.

The second oldest offered the man a brief greeting before silently leaning on the counter, the furthest away from the rest, it all but confirmed his suspicions. Damian had entered the room with a scowl, said nothing, and sat rather harshly in the seat closest to the door. Before Alfred could begin to question the influx of batchildren in his company the patriarch himself made his way up from the cave, the bottom half of his suit still on. His expression unnerved him the most. It was the look he'd seen on his young master's face a handful of times, and it only meant trouble.

"Boys," he greeted each with a nod, his eyes lingering on Jason a second longer, "As lovely as this surprise is, I can't help but wonder why you called us here Tim."

The dark-haired male met his father's eyes as he spoke, "We've all been dancing around this for weeks now but there's something- rather someone, we need to talk about, I don't know how much longer she'll last where she's at." Each man in the room grew stiff as a board, one woman coming to each of their minds.

"What the Hell are you on about Drake? What woman?" Damian's voice carried over the sudden silence, his tone as disgruntled as ever. Tim watched each of their expressions eagerly, gauging their feelings would be impossible for anyone not trained by Bruce. All of them had tells and Damian's was the way in which he gripped the table, Bruce remained stoic as ever, but his eyes told it all. Jason had actually taken a seat at the table. Dick, despite being told first, is just as on edge as the rest.

"Our sweet little runaway D, (Y/n) seems to find trouble wherever she goes huh?" Tim had anticipated resistance from his truth bomb but Jason leaping across to slam him face-first into the mahogany table was a surprise.

"What the fuck are you doing saying her name like that huh Timmy? How do you know her?" Dick was quick to try and pull the older man off of Tim but only made Jason angrier, his grip tighter.

"I'm saying she's in trouble Jay- and if you cared, really really cared, you'd hear me out." At this Jason released him his face still twisted into a snarl. "Start talkin' right fuckin' now." His breath was ragged, panting like a beast above its prey. Tim rose from his position slowly, his grin twitching at the tension in the room.

Dick hovered behind Jason ready to subdue the panting man, Damian now stood, his knuckles pressing into the surface of the table. "Beastie? What do you know about that criminal?" This pulled Jason's attention to the youngest Wayne, his furious expression made Damian's hand twitch towards the weapon in his holster, instead, he kept his gaze on the older man. "Criminal? No, you got it wrong she ain't done anything worth getting on your radar shithead." The wall of muscle known as Jason Todd couldn't be more unhappy. He'd only come here to speak with Bruce about you, he sure as shit didn't expect Tim to pull whatever this was. "She damn near killed me outside that rat's nest you call an apartment." The youngest responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes.

"What the fuck were you doing outside our place, you little stalker?" Jason's attention was fully on Damian now, he circled around the table like a shark. Only being stopped by Bruce's large arm. "He was there because I have a file on (Y/n), she's not a criminal, not yet anyway. But I know you're smart enough to know something is going on with her." Jason threw his arm off him, now pacing the room. "You know, just as much as I do if left unchecked she is a danger to herself and others."

Jason fixed his mouth to say something only to shut it, his head shaking in disbelief. "So- so you're telling me you spoke to her? You and this little shitstain over here musta' scared the shit outta her!" Jason rubbed the bridge of his nose his fist embedding itself in the wall nearest to him.

"Master Todd! You may no longer live under this roof but I will not stand for any disrespect of this home." Alfred spoke sternly from his position at the stove, turning to point a spatula in his direction. Jason apologized under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat at the nearest chair with a huff before continuing.

"She just got scared is all she hasn't hurt anyone. God, here I was thinking it was me who scared her off but of course, it was you B- I finally find something for myself, someone that makes it worth breathing and of course, you're the one who fucks it up."

Bruce stared down at his son, wanting nothing more than to hug away all that troubled him. Instead, he kneeled down, and his hand hesitated to touch him, knowing how rocky their relationship was, it fell limp at his side as he locked eyes with Jason.

"I know you have no reason to believe me, but I didn't know she was important to you Jason. I'm truly sorry to have done anything to make her run, it's the last thing I wanted." Jason's watery gaze flicked from his father to his successor, Tim had set a laptop in front of him, patiently waiting for their attention.

"You said she's in danger?" All eyes flicked to Tim as he finally opened the laptop. He flipped the screen around to show some footage of what appeared to be Arkham, specifically an inmate kicking another into a wall with the force of a semi barreling down the highway.

"Holy Hell, that's some kick she has there," Dick spoke first, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his shirt, his eyes eagerly drinking in the grainy footage of his darling. Every time he saw her he fell a little deeper in his growing fixation. Jason said nothing his eyes furrowed as he watched the clip again and again. Damian scoffed at the sight, his pulse quickening at the thought of facing you again, really fighting this time, and Bruce wouldn't be there to interrupt. He'd make sure of it. The second he got the chance he was going to bring you into his training room and break you in all the best ways. He'd put you back together, of course, he always took care of his toys.

Bruce walked over to Tim's side, his hand firmly patting his shoulder. "I assume you have a plan." The younger man grinned from ear to ear, this little meeting of his going exactly as he'd intended. With Bruce officially on board he quickly opened a folder on his desk labeled with a simple heart. "If we want to keep her out of the wrong hands, keep her safe, She has to disappear." His fingers were like lightning on the keyboard as he pulled up a standard Arkham guard ID card, Warren Kint was the name on it, and Dick's face stared back at them from the screen.

"Why does Grayson get to retrieve her?" Damian asked, clearly displeased with not being chosen, he'd quickly figured out his predecessor's plot. Tim sighed through his nose before responding "Because Jason's legally dead, everyone knows your face, and Bruce Wayne can't exactly apply for a job there without someone noticing. Dick's been out of Gotham for years now, he's less likely to be recognized."

"That and I don't like that look in your eye when you talk about her."

"Who put you in charge scum?" Damian stood quickly taking the jab far too personally. Bruce was quick to pacify his most volatile Robin "Relax, Tim is taking point on this. Respect it, son."

Tim shot the taller male a smirk from behind Bruce before continuing. "I've got everything rigged for your big escape, this dose is strong enough to knock out Killer Crock so it should get the job done." He tossed the vile backward knowing Dick was hanging off his every word. "After she's out all you gotta do is cause a big enough distraction to slip away unseen got it?"

"What then hm? You gonna take her back to our place right?" Jason asked suddenly making his way over, his impeding form hovering over the still-sitting Tim.

"If you want the penguin to know where she's at in two seconds sure." Tim chose his words carefully, knowing Jason's urge to keep you safe made him a walking nuke.

"Think about it Jay- she's with us, all of us, nobody would be able to touch her. She'd be somewhere 1000% safe, away from all the slimy bastards in this city. You'd never lose her again." It was silent for a bit before he responded, "Okay. Yeah, that checks out, why the hell are you so interested in helping her?"

"Jason we're heroes, all we do is help people." Tim's smile was as real as they came, but something in his eyes unsettled Jason told him he wasn't being 100% in his response.

He shook his head, scoffing out a laugh, "Right- sure. What about the rest of you hm? You all just extra concerned about this one citizen?" Bruce sighed through his nose. "I'd simply feel more comfortable if she was close, the power she has could be lethal in the wrong hands." Damian nodded firmly, knowing his real reasons wouldn't go over too well with his unstable sibling. "It's my fault- all of this." Dick said, a hand over his mouth as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen to meet Jason's, "I was late to a mission, god just five minutes late and," a shuddered breath left him as he held Jason's hard stare. "I'm the reason all this is happening to her. I gotta make it right J- I gotta." Jason exhaled through his nose as he stood, once more pacing the dining room. "Okay, so where's she gonna go? Do you think she'll just accept us uprooting her life? No fucking way she goes for that."

"I may have a solution," Bruce spoke kicking off his place on the wall. I'd anticipated her joining m- us here for quite some time." He began walking towards the elevator that lead to the cave. Damian's eyes widened, he'd finally get to see what his father had been keeping so secret in that blocked-off section of the cave, without a word he was shadowing his father, the other three soon fell in step, the walk bubbling with tensions.

They entered the cave, the air thick with possibilities. Bruce walked over to a door with a hand scanner, after a second it flashed green and with a hiss the thick steel door opened, sliding inward. Sitting like a beast in slumber was a clear plexiglass cage. There was a door with another hand scanner and a small window next to it. Inside sat a plush-looking bed that went from wall to wall, in front of that was a leather-bound lazy-boy, and besides that was a shelf lined with all the classics, off to the side was the only part of the cage not made of plexiglass, Bruce had enough decency to make the bathroom completely private. The bed was a soft pink, the lights in the room set to a dimmer, in his research he'd found a lot about his (Y/n), like how 'the big light' bothered her or how certain fabrics were better than others, every inch of the 'adjustment' room was carefully thought out with her interests in mind. In his heart of hearts, he hoped she'd only spend a few weeks in here, that she'd grow not only used to but fond of her time here.

Each member of the Batfamily took their time to inspect the room, Jason opened a drawer only to pause at the familiar clothes, forgetting where he was for a moment he brought the worn-down sweater to his face and took a deep shaky inhale, her scent had long since been replaced by his own as he'd taken to sleeping in her bed. The smell of her shot a warmth into his core like he'd been brought back from death once again.

Dick had quickly sat on the bed, taking extra time to not disturb the carefully placed pillows, he couldn't explain it but the image of her curled in the sheets had his pulse racing, he could see it now, wrapping around each other, telling her stories of the countless adventures he'd been on, getting to apologize for not saving her the first time, all the fun ways he'd make it up to her, he'd walk on his knees for the rest of his life if it brings a smile to that face- god he'd finally get to see her in person, no more screens. Tim walked around the interior, eagerly checking the corners of the room for any weak spots, he made a vow not to let himself relax until you were safe. Once you were, he was all but certain the others would push you too hard too fast, you'd hate them, and he'd be there as your one true confidante, the one person you could trust. Eventually, the isolation combined with his family's penchant for intensity would drive you where you'd belonged the whole time, securely in his arms.

Damian watched from the outside as his siblings wandered around the room with childish excitement. Unlike the others, he was excited about your arrival for a completely different reason, sure he didn't want you hurt or to fall down the wrong path, but that's just because he wants a true fight. Of course, he wasn't hit with whatever spell you'd cast on his family, he could scoff at the notion, and definitely didn't spend the last few weeks repeatedly drawing your face, both as the beast and the beauty. He certainly wasn't counting down the seconds until he could look you in the eye again.

Bruce overlooked it all from the doorway, he'd realized a few fundamental truths all at once.

1. He passed his more intense traits along to them, and any hope of this not ending in bloodshed meant sharing

2. He wasn't exactly excited to share but knew it bring them closer than ever before

3. He wanted your last name changed to Wayne as soon as he could, it just sounded so pretty in his mind.

Elsewhere

Arkham Asylum really only had two moods. Batshit insane and eerily silent, the second day into your stay you’d been manhandled into the common area by this prick named Dave. He made the typical sexist comment as he hauled you around. Venom took over last minute to kick his ankle in, his body crumpled with a yelp as he slammed against the dirty tile. Before he could process the moment you’d moved forward to place yourself in the iron cage they called the common room. The chittering people around you silenced briefly at your appearance before resuming their chatter.

Your eyes roamed the bustling room, wincing slightly at all the noise. Before you could pick a corner to haunt your allotted 30 minutes of ‘leisure’, the jumpy redhead from your first night slid beside you with a lip-splitting grin. Literally.

It had been days since you’d eaten enough, and a really big part of you was getting scared at the whole deal. See in your early days with V, he was still eating your organs from the inside out, he hadn’t said much besides the occasional word, a scary as shit thing to hear when you’re three bowls deep and alone.

‘Hungry’ was the first thing he’d said, and when you did in fact eat, trying desperately to ignore the deep voice in your head, he said ‘More’.

Thankfully it was one of those nights neither of your roommates was home because if they were, they’d get front-row tickets to the show of you on all fours, viciously ripping into any and everything in sight. The fridge door was now hanging on by one hinge, the other flew off with the force you opened it with. Day-old leftovers and the last of Jason’s famous chili soon joined the cornucopia of food now resting in your stomach, and in the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong because it Just. Wasn’t. Enough.

In a moment all of it had come right back up, mostly landing in the kitchen garbage. A heat like nothing you’d ever felt before flushed over your body, and your head began to pound in time with the voice.

“More. More. Not enough.” It felt like you’d been put in a blender and flash-frozen all at once. Clumsily you stumbled back into your room just barely making it to the bed before collapsing on top. Moments after, the blankets on your bare skin felt like hot glass, pushing you to crawl away from the feeling, now face down on the floor the voice had gone silent. Your body curled in on itself, and the heat coming off your flesh made condensation appear on the floor where you laid. Your eyes searched the room in a haze, the mirror hanging on the back of the door gave you a chill once you caught sight of your sickly form.

Dark veins had crawled to the surface of your skin, and a sheen of perspiration coated your twitching form. Just before you blacked out the darkness all converged into a horrifying mass, completely masking your face in its own. The whites of the eyes were the last thing you noticed before darkness took over.

You’d woken up god knows how long later arm deep in the chest of some unrecognizable heap, the remains of his tacky shirt let you in on his identity, one of the neighborhood's scummier dealers laid motionless, just outside your apartment. It looked like a bear had attacked him. One look at your gore-covered hands had you shoving them as deep in your pockets as you could, quickly backing away from the carcass, eyes blown wide with every emotion you had rushing at you all at once.

“What..fuck what did I do.”

‘I did what you couldn’t human. I fed us.’

”Fucking shit! Okay okay, breathe (Y/n). Just breathe.” A shaking breath left you as you wiped at your mouth, desperate to wake from this weird ass nightmare.

”Okay so- you got some bad pot, happens to the best of us. Someone probably laced it and this is just the worst trip ever.” A sigh of relief left you as logic calmed your raging mind. Thankfully it was late so people weren’t too keen to look down random alleyways, never before had you been so grateful to live in Gotham. It took nothing at all to scrape the remaining mush into a nearby sewer drain. You caught your reflection in a puddle near the crime scene, only to be met with a more fully realized monster from last night.

Your back hit the wall with a thud. Frozen in fear, you tried to speak to the hallucination.

“This- holy shit- what are you?” The question was more for yourself yet it was still answered.

‘Venom. And I am not a monster. Stupid girl.’ It sounded annoyed but more concerning, it had responded to a comment you’d made in your mind.

‘Of course, I did. I am in you, after all, I can see everything.’

“Uh- okay! Okay, not cool, not cool at all.” You shoved yourself off the wall and back towards the door to your apartment. The evidence of your midday snack was washed down the drain with a quickness, the heat from the shower made you nauseous so you quickly flicked it towards ice cold, at least it should have been, but the bitter cold felt good on your boiling flesh

It took a long somewhat awkward conversation but eventually, the two of you came to a fast conclusion. He wouldn’t take over as long as you kept him fed.

A feat that had been put on hold since your impromptu Arkham stay. You were still good. At least your definition of good. No one was in immediate danger of consumption. You hoped so at least.

”You sure do space out a lot of sugar.”

”Only when I have to think.” this earned a loud cackle from the redhead, his smile rather contagious. The loud laughter had managed to resplit his lip, the bright red blood beaded at the lip, without meaning to you'd reached out a soft (s/c) hand, and swiped it away with your thumb, your lips encased around it, paying no attention to how flushed your conversation partner had become at the action.

”How’s your face? I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He scoffed, his blush ever visible as he passed a finger over his bruised lip, “This is nothin’! A little knuckle sandwich for the price of getting to talk to you? Fair deal.” His smirk was dangerous, the kind that would have had pre-venom-you running for the hills. The bright red blood in his cut looked oddly fitting with his wild expression. The sweet tang of him was still thick in your mouth, his flirtation didn't help in the slightest, if anything it made your stomach grumble in a way that had you taking a half step back. “Right. Well glad we’re good.” Internally hoping your poor socialization skills would come in handy, you were disappointed when he closed the distance between you, eagerly dragging you to a nearby table.

His smile was more of a sneer, all but permanently accompanied by that devious expression. Wide green eyes drank you in eagerly. “So how’s a pretty lady like yourself end up in the loony bin with the rest of Gotham's finest?” He spoke so animatedly, gesturing to the rest of the room with a playful twirl of his fingers. “Me? I murdered the ol’ mom. You know how they can be just,” his fist slammed into the table, “Suuuch a pain.” He leaned forwards to lessen the space even more.

“She’s the only one under my belt but ooh do I got a helluva show planned!” He was pushing for a reaction, desperate to see who you were on the inside. You leaned on your elbows taking a second to process his tale. “You like to talk about yourself huh gingy.” His smile twitched a bit before he broke out into a cackle. “Well of course I do! Stars are always full of themselves Darlin’. Rule of the trade no?”

Had you not been so enthralled by your new friend and potential meal, you'd of noticed the stare of utter hatred the fresh-faced guard was shooting him. He held his electric baton with a white-knuckled grip, mentally debating ditching Tim's plan and just breaking it over the little shit's head, tossing you over his shoulder, and finally just bringing you home, it was then and only then he'd actually be able to breathe, he'd been updated on all your escapades since that night in Bludhaven, and just about fell over. Tim had to talk him down for an hour just so Dick would hear his plan out.

Dick knew he’d need a big distraction to get you out of there the right way. The cadaver with your uniform on was taking the role of your body while he’d be sneaking out the real one safe and sound. That fire in his belly burned hot at the memory. He knew all at once who’d be assisting in your little escape plan. Dick had the heart of a hero and he knew killing someone, even for you, would be frowned upon, so he did the next best thing. He dragged that Valeska prick out of his cell by his ankles and proceeded to beat him black and blue, he was still breathing, and Dick would never intentionally kill anyone. Sure he was choking those breaths through puddles of blood but hey, still breathing. He held the younger man up by his bloodied shirt, one hand dragged the limp body behind him while the other unlocked the door to cell block-A, Tim had scheduled a failure in the CCTV system, which had him moving at a leisurely pace. Dick whistled a nameless tune as he pushed the nearly unconscious man before him, he shoved so hard Jerome flipped over the railing and landed in the center of the room, three floors down. Dick stood at the top silently, “Sure hope you didn’t die from that Valeska. The next part doesn’t really work if you did.” The gurgled response from Jerome was enough for Dick to move forward with the plan. With the push of a button, every cell in the room slammed open with a crash. Like sharks in the ocean, they swarmed Jerome’s now still body, no sooner did they start screaming did the riot alarms go off.

Dick counted to ten in his mind, the chaos had spilled into the rest of Arkham, and a fire in (Y/n)‘s room had consumed all in its path, covering Dick’s escape route perfectly. He drove with you in the front, tucked safely into a blanket he’d thought to bring, drugged out of your little mind. Dick took an extra five minutes to just admire you in the flesh. He’d been going stir crazy not having access to you, ever since he’d learned of your existence he’d needed to see you safe and sound, and now, finally, he could breathe. You were alright. You were with him. Nothing could get to you again, he wouldn’t let it. His smile never left his face, he knew you were asleep but hoped you'd subconsciously hear him anyway. "I'm sorry our first official meeting had to be done with you dreaming sweetie, don't worry I have our real meeting all planned out, I got stuck with the second shift watching ya' but I swear I'll be worth the wait." He spent the rest of the car ride like that, whispering sweet nothings to your unconscious body.

The ‘room’ was pleasantly cold. Much colder than the murky heat that haunted the walls of Arkham, if you could call it a room. The plush bedding was cool to the touch, it was the first thing you noticed, how good it felt under your fingertips. It probably had to do with how stiff and scratchy the poor excuse of a blanket folded crisply in your cell. The bloodstained jumpsuit you’d grown used to had been replaced by a soft, dark grey pajama set. It felt new but smelled faintly of cologne as if a man had worn it moments before it found its way onto your sleeping body.

The second thing you noticed was the small ringing in the back of your head, it was low but consistent, a constant thrum carried throughout your skull, never going away, it was so annoying in fact it drew you from your dreamless slumber. Venom was unsettlingly quiet. The only sound was the buzz.

Once you realized something was wrong, you sprung up from your comfortable position, now sitting upright, your eyes adjusted to the warm light the salt lamp provided, taking in the alarming state of your surround. The room looked to be at least 10ft, big enough for the large bed you awoke on, and a fluffy-looking lazy boy parked in the corner, a few books stacked neatly on the shelves lining the glass container.

“What the hell.” A breathless laugh left you as you spun in a slow circle, hoping the explanation would reveal itself. “V are you seeing this?” You asked aloud, uncaring if whoever put you here found it odd. You were met with silence. The fear really started to roll in over you at the lack of response, “Come on V where are ya, big guy.” Sweat had begun to form on your brow, it only increased with the crackling of a speaker you hadn’t noticed before.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Jason’s voice came from a small box in the upper corner of the room. The once calming baritone now only further filled the sinking pit in your gut. “Jason? Is that you? What the fuck is this-Jason?” Your breath begins to pick up, the unease fully fogging your mind.

The panic began to hurdle at you in waves, not helped by the door a few feet from your new cell opening with a woosh. In no time Jason had made it to the other side of the plexiglass, his sweet gaze paired with the gentle hand pressing against the hard surface felt out of place with the current situation.

“Shh- breathe. Just breathe for me- it’s okay honey- it’s okay look I’m here. I’m right here.” You brought a shaking hand to your mouth, mind swirling with all the information his appearance had given you.

“I know you’re scared- I told the bastards you wouldn’t like waking up like that, all alone. I’m sorry about that. But I’m here now.”

”Why am I in a fucking cage, Jay? I went to bed in a cell last night. How the fuck am I here? Why am I here? Is it that shit with Penguin? God, I swear I don’t know anything please.” Your voice began to waive as you tried to handle everything. Why hasn’t Venom answered you? Why was that fucking buzzing still happening? Why were you in a fucking box?!

”I need you to hear me right now- really hear me.” His hand curled into a fist as he spoke, gently knocking on the glass to emphasize his words.

“You’re safe. Okay? You’re not in trouble or in jail or ever going to deal with that short bird-faced fuck ever again you here?” His voice grew in volume as he spoke, his hand closing into a tight fist on the glass. There was a beat of silence as you forced yourself to breathe properly.

”You didn’t need to run honey. I could’ve protected you from all of this.”

”You don’t understand Jason- what happened to me.”

”You bonded with an illegal alien parasite from space. Who cares?.”

”How the hell do you know that?”

”Bruce has a file on you, he knows everything. Even how to make it quiet up there.” his finger tapped twice against his temple

Teary-eyed, your head snapped up to look at the offender. “Who the hell- I don't know a Bruce- look whatever it is make it stop. Please I need V.”

”What are you talking about darlin’?"

“Do not play with me right now.” Your fist pounded against the wall before you, despite Venom being silent the doors of your cage rattled against the force you threw, so you knew he was still in there.

"I get why you're upset sweetheart- I really do but you gotta eat something okay?" His tone was light and sweet as he placed the hot meal in the small box, you quickly rushed him, hoping to grab him through the tiny door. "S'no good hun, only one door at a time." He had that god damned knee-weakening smile on his face while he spoke. You took the tray with a glare.

"Just cuz I'm eating doesn't mean I'm down for whatever Hannibal Lecter bullshit this is." He snorted through his nose, eyes never leaving you. "I didn't expect you to, look I know you have questions but we thought it is best to take it slow if nothing else I ask you to understand you're safe."

You scoffed under your breath, appetite leaving as the sting of his betrayal pulsed in your mind, of course, he'd turn on you, he was a hero. It was inevitable.

"So what you gonna lure me into a false sense of security then send me to some lab to be bleed me dry right?" His eyes widened, looking almost offended at the notion.

"You ain't hearing me, hun." He kneeled down to meet your gaze, you hadn't even realized you'd fallen to the floor. "You ain't going to some lab, or back to Arkham or anywhere I can't keep you safe." Exhausted with the entire ordeal your energy to fight all but sizzled away. "You don't need to do that Jay- I can take care of myself." Your voice shows the exhaustion you felt. He stared down at you with pity, so so close to walking in just to hold you, feel you with him. Instead, he sighed, "Caring about someone the way that I care about you, means you’re capable of anything. That’s the kinda love people don’t talk about. It’s real, it’s vicious, and it ain’t going anywhere." "You love me, Jay?" You sounded so soft and small when you asked as if you were genuinely surprised. His smile was the same one you'd grown used to seeing back in the apartment, warm and sweet like honey.

"You've had me in the palm of your hand since the day you moved in."

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jerics · 2 years

Text

weird

jeric, 2k, find it on ao3

"I don't get him," Eric says, and it's probably the truest thing he's said about Jack so far. Because if Jack likes blue, and Jack likes the Godfather Part 2, and Jack knows all the words to the songs on the CDs Eric puts in the player he brought from the bedroom he used to share with his little brother, then why is Jack so much better at this? He'll go out and get an apartment and just ask for roommates, he'll get into this college and not question how he did it, he'll show up with his positive attitude and give-em-hell smile and he'll win them all over, just like that. Eric's always been that guy. The win-em-over guy. And now there's Jack. And Jack is winning everybody over (Shawn hated him, right? Eric didn't imagine that? but still, Shawn Hunter moved into an apartment with a guy he barely knew and Eric), and hell, Cory likes him, even Mom and Dad like him.

Eric doesn't get it. Jack's just some guy, right? He's Shawn's older brother, but at the centerpoint of it, he's just some guy. And yet, Eric has never felt better than he has since he and Jack stepped into the same room. He just likes having the guy around! Every single friend Eric had ever had had been work, had been someone he had to maintain the relationship with and never wanted to come home with him. He never wanted what his little brother had when they were kids. He always thought that Cory and Shawn were a little weird, even if he always liked the kid. He still likes Shawn. They live together! But he's never felt about Shawn was he's starting to feel right now.

When Cor was really little, he once said he'd like to climb inside of Shawn's chest and go home with him, so that they could keep each other company. Eric has never wanted what he had. But he's starting to get the idea of what he meant, and jeez, that's a scary feeling. He doesn't know how Cory and Shawn did it when they were just kids. All this emotion and such a tiny little guy to process that scary desire of wanting someone to stay close to you. He can't imagine.

He starts keeping Jack in his back pocket, and he stops telling himself that its weird. That this isn't what guys do, going everywhere together and never finding one without the other. What the fuck does it matter what guys do? He's just one person, in an apartment, trying to make it one day at a time. Hopefully without pants if he can help it. And with Jack. Because he thinks the guy is neat. So what?

He gets Jack to come clubbing with him, takes him dancing, teaches him how to wear a dress properly, gets him into exercising with him. And Jack is amenable to all of it- he doesn't care that Eric is sometimes intense, or that sometimes he's so diluted it's like you could wash him away with water, and he doesn't even care that Eric lied about smoking. He thought they were talking about cigarettes! It wouldn't have been a lie if they were talking about cigarettes. Jack, New York City boy, has never smoked before, and he leans back when Eric offers him a joint, smiling and exposing his throat, and Eric has to stop himself from asking him if he knows what shotgunning is. Jack probably doesn't know, or at least doesn't know how. That doesn't mean that Eric needs to teach him.

He teaches himself witchcraft on one of the long tables at the library, bowed over a couple books (most heavily ruminating on Witchcraft for Dumb-Dumbs, but that is neither here nor there), and it's the hardest he's worked on anything in his entire life, maybe. A librarian watches him over her glasses, probably noticing that he has no idea what he's doing and just leaving him to it anyway; he doesn't blame her. It's the middle of the night. He just has a really bad feeling about this, you know? Somewhere in his gut behind all the jealousy and just hating Millie for being herself and rubbing her witchy little hands all over his Jackie, he really does have a bad feeling about this.

He thinks he puts on really well that seeing Jack and Shawn tied up doesn't scare him at all. Because holy fuck, it does. If the sacrifice hadn't worked as planned, but he hadn't interrupted, what would they have done? What would Millie have done? He's proud of himself for remembering to take her keys. Fuck only knows what she would have done if she kept them.

"Eric, wait. Even after all the rotten things I said to you, you’re still gonna invite me to come along?" Jack asks, and he looks at Eric like how Eric's been thinking about him the entire time. Like Eric hung the moon in the sky. Like he's worth a damn. Eric smiles.

"Of course, man, you’re my friend."

He says that and he means it. Jackie is his friend. Eric just also wants to put him in his pocket and keep him safe and teach him about Philly conduct because holy shit, he acts like a New York boy sometimes, and New York might be bigger, but Eric grew up nice, and he still knows how to beat somebody's breaks off if they don't have friends. But anyway. Jack's his friend. It's simpler, easier and safer to pretend that's all it is.

There's something about cooking Thanksgiving dinner with a guy that makes you feel like more than friends. Eric knew it was a bad idea as soon as he suggested it, as soon as it flew out of his mouth, really, but Jack couldn't be left alone for Thanksgiving, and having it at their apartment keeps Mom away from the baby picture albums. Even if they just stay friends, Jack is still gonna eventually see the baby picture books, but this way, he can deny the inevitable for as long as possible. The Matthews brood is kinda weird. He knows that. He knows that Jack already knows that he is weird too. But Jackie gets overwhelmed easy. He doesn't want his Mom doing her Welcome to the Neighborhood routine and freaking him out, is that so wrong?

But God, the alternative. Watching Jackie try to figure out pumpkin pie and trying to melt a turkey out of a block of ice. He cracks jokes and Jack gets snappy and Shawn hasn't really been hanging around during the day so much lately (probably actually going to class, hope against hope), so it's just them in their empty apartment. They're a disaster together. Eric's never been happier.

It's around three weeks before Christmas when he wakes up with Jackie in his bed, laying on his stomach with his face pushed into the pillow. They hadn't gone to bed together, hadn't even said goodnight before going to bed last night- Jack had been up late in the library again, and the library isn't really Eric's scene. He studies better when he can spread out all over the floor, which he mostly does in his bedroom, not even in the living room. It's hard to study in front of people! None of that is the point. He wakes up and Jack Hunter is in his bed like it's a normal place for him to be, like that's exactly where he belongs. Eric can't help but stare.

Jack always looks softer when he's asleep. Awake, he's an angel, so it's like looking at an angel or something. He's just relentlessly pretty. He's good to look at. He's opening his eyes.

"Hey," Eric says before Jack can freak out, his voice soft. Jack pushes his face back into his pillow with a groan.

"My bed was cold when I got in last night," he explains, voice muffled.

"Yeah, Jackie, that's what happens to it when you're not in it," Eric cajoles, his tone half sooth and half agitator. Jack picks his head up just to glare at him, even if it's pretty obviously halfhearted.

"It was cold, so like some heat seeking person that cuddles, I came into your room. What are you doing to me, Eric Matthews?" Jack asks. He looks fond. Eric chooses to believe his expression over the pang in his chest of too much, of too far. He always gets to be too much, gets to going too far.

"Stay?" he asks anyway, fingers around Jack's wrist. He can't help that hungry thing within himself, that thing that wants to have and wants to hold, that thing that wants to be in love far more than he's ever known how to be. Jack looks at him sideways from where he had pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and gives Eric a shrug, climbing back into the bed and collapsing onto Eric with a fit of laughter. He's heavy where he lands, but it's heavy in a good way. He's warm and he presses into all the places where Eric feels most empty, his stock sturdy and his clothes soft. Eric wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders.

"You're so weird," Jack says, but he's grinning so wide it's fit to split his face wide open, and he's got his knees on either side of Eric's hips, and he isn't acting like he thinks Eric is weird at all. Eric's heart could burst looking up at him. He reaches up to cup Jack's face.

"You're weird too," he whispers, and then he leans in. He lets Jack come the last couple of centimeters, leaves the space and then gets swooped up into a kiss, and besides the ritual sacrifice, he can see why Millie liked him so much. Of course he can see why Millie liked Jack so much, though. He likes Jack too. He wants to kiss him and hold him and keep him close. They've been kissing for longer than Eric intended when Jack presses down into him and Eric can't stop the way his hips cant up; he's not even twenty, what can he say about his hair trigger? Jack grins down at him like he's any different.

"You like me," Jack says, confident and a little breathy, and Eric wants to fucking bite him. So he does. He leans up and he nips under Jack's jaw, just because he can.

"You like me too," he whines, pulling Jack even further down on top of him so that he can hide his face in the other boy's shoulder. He's not even super confident about it, but he's assuring himself that Jack wouldn't have kissed him if he didn't want more. There's some alignment happening all the way down their bodies but no urgency, no reason to make something from the first time they've kissed in the way that Eric would be desperate to with someone less important. Jack lays on top of Eric like some kind of weighted blanket, tucked against him so sweetly it's hard to focus on anything else.

"I like you too," Jackie whispers his confirmation, just casual like he isn't making Eric's heart beat out of his chest. He wraps his arms around Jack again and puts the fingers of one hand in the other boy's hair, scritching through the back of it like he's always wanted to do. Jack melts against him. If he had known Jack would do that, he would have done this months ago.

"Are we going back to sleep, buddy?" Eric continues coming his fingers through Jack's hair, making the other boy sigh.

"If you keep touching me like that, definitely," he says. Eric grins.

"I'll touch you however you want, baby," he says, wiggling his eyebrows even if Jackie can't see it.

"Eric," Jack says simply, his voice not particularly harsh, but firm, like he always is when he's reigning Eric in. Eric wants to curl up in the sound of that voice.

"Night, Jackie."

#jeric #jack hunter #eric matthews #boy meets world #jackeric #mine #rated mature just so y'all know

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k-writer1998 · 1 year

Text

The Stars In Your Eyes (2/3)

w.c: 2.1k

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

“So she introduced her boyfriend because she got caught with him? And they’ve been together for two months?”

“Yeah, I mean I felt something was off. It got harder to meet her and even when we did she seemed distracted and just… I don’t know. I feel- how do I say this? Unsettled?”

“So you’re saying all these changes brought on these strange feelings? Did you expect for your friendship to alway stay that cozy?”

“When you put it like that I sound like a clingy friend Minho.”

“Chan, you literally are but that isn’t the point. I don’t know why you’re asking me as if you don’t know the reason. You aren’t an idiot.”

He was right. I just hoped to hear a different answer, although Minho wouldn’t lie even if I asked him to. It’s just… admitting I knew meant accepting the fact that I was a coward and now that someone has done what I couldn’t, I don’t know what to do with these feelings of mine. Would I be able to move on? Can’t my stupid heart just take this as rejection so I can? How much more will things change between us? Can I truly wish her happiness till the end? Can I handle that?

“Chan?”

Her voice cut through the whirlpool of my thoughts that have been swirling around in circles for days now. It’s a rare chance for us to meet in person, let’s focus on the present and the person sitting in front of me.

“Sorry. My brain relapsed for a moment about assignments. You were saying?”

“I’m sorry for ambushing you last week and only giving you a mediocre explanation text. I wanted to tell you in person but on that day I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you since I’ve been kind of bad at answering lately.”

“It’s fine. We’ve always been busy people, if anything I’m sorry for ruining your date.”

Date… the word rolled off my tongue in an unpleasant manner but I smiled nonetheless as I let her go on about how they reconnected at work, he confessed by bringing up some pact they made as kids, they started dating and things are going well. I wanted to say that the reason was stupid and didn’t really make any sense but I couldn’t. The sparkle in her eyes and that soft smile, she is happy and any thought of some selfish move to satiate my own feelings stopped in their tracks. I can’t be the one to stir up her feelings and stop that smile. While she was telling me recent news about work, my eyes picked up on her fingers gently dancing along the rim of her glass. A mindless motion she usually did when she had something to say but unsure of how to bring it up.

“What’s on your mind? Hiding any other big secret?” I had said it lightheartedly to ease the tension in her shoulders but instead her whole body froze. Is there really something else?

“Ha, I can never get anything past you can I? Is it an older brother thing?” She jokes but she still permeates anxiety. “I was given a big project to work on…”

“What’s the catch? You would have been bouncing with joy if there wasn’t something you’re hesitant about.”

“If I do a good job it might end up being a permanent position there but I have to relocate… to New York...”

“I mean that’s a good place to be, being an editor and all, why were you hesitating to tell me?”

The distance was shocking but I couldn’t say anything knowing what she had to do to get where she was today in her career, not that it would matter. She already made her choice and was stubborn as hell, I knew that since freshman year.

“I know I just… a business trip is one thing but permanently? I would be leaving everything I know.”

“Do a good job first and worry about taking the permanent position after. No use being scared of something that isn’t concrete. One step at a time right?” I say as I ruffle her hair with a smile.

“You’re right. I don’t know, maybe I’m a little nervous because I’d be staying with Jiwoo. It hasn’t been long since we reconnected and-”

“Wait what?”

“Jiwoo works as a scout at the overseas company that offered the position, not like he had any say in it but after I agreed he offered me a room at his place to give me one less thing to worry about.”

What kind of face am I making right now? Keep control of your expressions Chan. Luckily she didn’t seem to notice, too lost in her own worries to catch the subtle change. After easing her worries we parted ways and when I got home my ears were greeted with silence, thank god Minho was gone. As I was changing into something more comfortable, my eyes landed on the scrawling across my collarbone in the mirror. Ah, this useless soulmate mark of mine. When did I last think about my soulmate? Not that I really thought about it that often but it did cross my mind on occasion. At what point did I pick up that ideology of hers of not caring about soulmates? Or more like… when has she become such a big part of my life?

“The person I choose to love…”

I read it aloud as my fingers gingerly brushed along the words. “Choose”... it sounded so much like something she would say but I realize I thought of myself too highly. Her love isn’t mine to have. The pain of that reality really sank into my heart, needing to reel in my mind before I spiral I close my eyes and as my lungs filled with a deep breath- Ting. Ting. Teng. That noise… Confused, my eyes opened to the ground to see little spots of glitter shining back at me. Wait how did- My eyes immediately darted back to my reflection to see my face bathed in colorful sparkling streams where my tears should be. Carefully my hand reached up to wipe it away and the same oddly pretty sound was heard when the liquid hit my hand. This phenomenon was enough to shock the tears to a stop and I quickly pulled out my phone to figure out what was happening to me. After scrolling and skimming various links I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Star tears. A condition born from an unrequited love where the patient slowly loses the ability to see colors before they ultimately lose their sight. What kind of life did I live in my past life to deserve this? My long term crush has a boyfriend, said crush is leaving the country with aforementioned boyfriend and to top it all off, I’ll slowly go blind unless she loves me back. Shit.

Nothing changed from my routine other than the fact that certain colors slowly bled from my world. It wasn’t some type of “blink and you miss it” sensation, things just became duller over time until one day it was replaced with a bleak gray and my mind stutters trying to process the change. Although he never addressed it I’m sure Minho, being as we live together, found out about the star tears. He’s never questioned the strange noises from my room when they fall uncontrollably, he subtly helps me differentiate things that have lost their color, and he’s been offering me food more often. Thanks to his kindness my anxieties lessened even if it was only a small fraction and now, in a few days, y/n will be leaving. I’ve mulled about it for hours on end but I can’t bring myself to say anything because knowing her she wouldn’t go, instead she would try to help me cure this even if she can’t love me back. I don’t want to be the excuse she uses to run away from her dream and if going blind is the price to pay for her happiness then so be it, at least one of us has to see it through until the end. It was yet another night left with my thoughts and insomnia when my phone rang. At this time? Who-

"You don’t usually call this late."

"Hmmm… I just wanted to hear your voice? I’m not disturbing you right?"

“Insomniac, remember? Something’s on your mind? You usually can’t stay up past eleven,” I asked, ignoring the dull aching in my chest because she jokingly said she missed my voice.

“I don’t know, it’s just… is this overseas position really the right choice?”

“Y/n, there is no right choice other than your choice. That’s all there is to it.”

“But leaving everything I know to go to a place I’ve never been and alone at that? I mean not alone cause Jiwoo but we’re adults and we have our own lives and just, could I handle that?”

“You adapt well to new environments and you’re a hard worker, things will fall into place in time. You never make decisions that you would regret so what got into your head?"

“My parents… they didn’t find out until after everything was set in stone and they were NOT happy. We’ve been going back and forth for weeks but now that my departure date is closing in, what if I’m wrong?”

"Okay I have two questions for you. First, do you want to go?"

"Of course I do," she responded flatly.

"Before your parents' opinions, did you believe you could do it?"

"Although it won’t be perfect and mistakes are inevitable… I think I can.”

"Then it doesn't matter what your parents say. You've worked hard for this, that doesn’t change."

"I'm scared. This is an opportunity of a lifetime but a part of me fears the worst. What if I don’t have what it takes or there was a mistake? What if I get there and it wasn’t what I thought it would be and I hate it?"

"Y/n you love reading and writing like it's the air you breathe.You're amazing at what you do and it makes you happy, that's all that matters. If you ever falter just remember that I believe in you. I always have."

"You are a godsend do you know that?" She chuckles before adding with a sigh, "what am I gonna do without you? Our time zones are gonna be messed up, and it's gonna be sad to know my best friend isn’t a call away."

“Friend.” The cause of my detriment. I don’t cry easily but ever since the star tears, they start falling at the drop of a hat. Even now my eyes began to well up. I tilted my head back to keep them from falling as my voice softened to hide the tremble that was taking over my voice.

"I’ll still be a call away, it’s one in the morning and here we are. If you miss me just look at the stars, they’ll accompany you in my place right?”

“They would accompany me with or without you cause that was my thing first,” she laughs softly.

The thought of never getting the chance to tell her my feelings hurt just as much as the thought of her leaving, maybe that’s why I hadn’t felt the few tears that escaped streak down my face. It wasn’t until the crystalline tinkling of the glittering tears crashing on the floor, petrifying me to silence, did the horror set in.

"Oh? What's that pretty sound?"

"Oh- uhm, sorry that's my alarm, I- I gotta go."

I quickly hung up the phone before she could say anything and threw it on my bed in frustration. Can I not have a small moment to help make this annoying disease more bearable? No longer needing to conceal these stupid gem-like tears I let them fall freely as I began to wallow. Pretty… she said the sound of this cursed disease was pretty… she wasn't wrong but the irony of it all was too cruel to appreciate. When the room grew silent and the tears subsided, it was then when I had noticed the odd color of my room or more so… the lack thereof. The LED lights hanging above the bed were supposed to be a soft purple. At what point of this fit of tears did the newest color bleed away? I wanted to get mad, feel anger or any other feeling other than the defeat and resigned acceptance I currently felt. My own dream was withering in my hands every step she took towards her own, but I wouldn’t change it for the world… God I must be crazy.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids aus #skz imagines #skz aus #bang chan #bang chan au #bang chan imagines #soulmate au #star tears #med student! chan x publisher! y/n #the stars in your eyes

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uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

Note

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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xxatinyminionxx · 3 years

Text

🥀 Gluttony 🥀

Pairing: dom!heeseung x switch!reader

Genre: Smut, Oneshot, FICTION

Word Count: 2.6k words

Includes: Pinches of sub!hee because I couldn’t resist, strangers to lovers trope, oral both ways, a subtly obsessed heeseung, praise, a tad impatient reader, protected sex, breeding kink

Synopsis: A night at the club turns into a lot more than you would’ve expected when you hook up with a stranger infatuated by your presence — Heeseung.

Requested?: Technically yes

A/N: This oneshot was made for @enhoesnetwork event #1 !

—

And then there was Gluttony who just couldn’t resist his urges to be with you…

glut·ton·y

/ˈɡlətnē/

noun

habitual greed

It’s a Friday night and your acquaintances convinced you to go out with them to the club. To be honest, you weren’t going to go, but you didn’t want to be ‘the one that said no’ either. Turns out tagging along isn’t such a bad idea. You get to sit on the second floor of a lively, vibrant club and watch others get ridiculously wasted — and trip over their own feet on the dance floor below.

At one point while you’re lounging in a chair at your table and sipping on an alcoholic beverage of your choice, you feel like someone is watching you. You turn your head to your right and sure enough, there is some guy checking you out. He seemed to be in the same position as you, tagging along with friends that decided they wanted to get blackout drunk. His posture, leaning over the table he was sitting at with his arms holding him up, suggests he had been eyeing you for a while. Not that you’re complaining. He looks cute. It looks like he was going for a teen punk rock vibe with his outfit, chains and ripped jeans being its standout features. His jet black hair rests neatly on his forehead.

You smile politely at him and even give him a small wave. Thanks to the strobe lights hitting him at the right time, you see the surprise on his face. It was as if he didn’t expect you to take his staring well, which you could understand. He seems to give the brief interaction some thought, and then he gets up and walks over to you. As he sits in the seat next to you, you breathe in a hint of rose. He literally smells like a bed of roses. If you were going to get truly intoxicated off something tonight, it would be his scent.

The man clears his throat and lets out a chuckle, flashing one of the brightest white smiles you have ever seen. “Hey, sorry for staring. Did your friends leave you too?” You could see the concern in the way his brows knit together.

“Yeah, they did. I’m not much of a partier anyway.” You let out a sheepish laugh and rub at your neck out of habit. His eyes follow your fingers down to your neck, but he quickly returns his attention back to you.

“Heeseung.” He tells you, offering his hand for you to shake. You nod upon learning his name and take his hand.

“Y/N.” Pulling back from the handshake, you settle down in your seat knowing you had a friend to keep you company tonight. You talk to each other about your day and eventually, you start feeling tension. He starts biting his lips as he listens to you talk, which is making you bite your lips when he talks. That’s when he says something that has been on your mind for the past ten minutes.

“Y/N, we can go into one of the back rooms if you want.” The back rooms are modeled to look like actual bedrooms. You’re shocked. He might genuinely be down to mess around. You nod quicker than you would’ve wanted to and stand from your seat.

“I didn’t think you would ask, haha~”

You both walk to the other side of the second floor and rent a room for yourselves. You never used one before, but it turns out you get to keep the room until closing time. As you would expect, you hear people fucking and moaning their partner’s name as you walk to your room.

Heeseung opens the door for you and you notice from the redness in his face that he has been blushing this entire time. Once he closes the door, you’re already on the bed and taking your shoes off. Whether or not you were going to have a one-night stand with Heeseung, you needed to be comfortable. The teen sits beside you on the bed and gently smiles at you. You smile back in the silence and soon you both fill that silence with shy laughter.

“Heeseung, what?” You ask, too shy to say anything more yourself.

Heeseung bites his lips again and leans over, whispering in your ear. “Y/N, I want you. Really fucking bad.”

You freeze up. You weren’t expecting him to be THAT bold. You let him continue the talking, letting out a simple hum to let him know you’re listening.

“May I have you?” Heeseung pulls back, his gaze much more lustful than before. He’s looking at you like you’re a forbidden snack.

“Yes~” You breathe out.

Seconds after receiving your consent, his lips capture yours in a kiss that feels long overdue. Your hands touch all over his body as he’s touching yours. You can smell roses in every shallow breath you take between kisses. It’s more addicting than the alcohol you left behind at your table. The scent — it’s sweet yet alluring. You crawl up the bed still enveloped in the heated kiss. Heeseung follows, pushing his shoes off with his feet. He tops you and drags his lips down your jaw and attaches them feverishly to your neck.

You let out a hesitant moan in front of the stranger and rake your fingers through his hair. It’s super soft to the touch. “I’ve wanted you all night, Y/N. Something about you, I crave it.” He starts feeling down your body, taking his time to feel every inch of it. He peeks up at you for a moment and traces his thumb along your now swollen bottom lip. “Let me hear you.”

He helps you take off piece after piece of clothing and makes sure he does the same. First his shirt comes off, then his pants. Like yours, his underwear stays on, for now. He leans up to kiss you again before giving you literal euphoria. You close your eyes and little by little, your desperate moans fill the room. He presses his plump lips to your collarbones, trails gentle kisses and licks down your chest, love bites included, and stops right before the waistband of your underwear.

“Fuck me.” Your horniness gets out before your rationale. The half-naked guy stares up at you and lifts himself back up to kiss you. When he pulls back, you see a smirk playing on his lips. “Not yet, I need to taste you.”

Heeseung shifts back down the bed and helps rid you of the last of your undergarments. He admires your middle from between your legs and lets out a groan himself. “You’re so perfect…”

He dives his head in between your thighs — the softness of his lips and warm mouth have your eyes rolling back. He must’ve been drooling this entire time, or maybe it was your own excitement, but you get to hear several wet sounds as he’s going down on you. “You taste so good baby…” His hands rub your intimate area in just the right spots, causing you to throb under his touch. “I’m gonna make you cum so much tonight. Mmh, you deserve it, Y/N...” He flattens his tongue against your middle and you moan louder than before, hands shaking as they go to grab his hair again. “…for looking so damn hot tonight.”

“Hee— Mmm, you’re the one that should be called hot.”

“Yeah? Let’s see who the hot one is when you cum for me…”

Heeseung goes back to pleasing you with his mouth and it feels HEAVENLY. The way he swirls his tongue, puts his lips together and sucks, probes your sensitive area with the tip of his tongue, looks up at you with those intense eyes — there is no question that you’re about to come undone.

“Heeseung I’m cumming, I’m cumming! Fuuuuck~” Your toes curl into the sheets and you throw your head back against the pillows. You whimper a string of curses into the sinful air and catch your breath as the man you just met licks you clean.

You’re still shivering when Heeseung slips his tongue in your mouth and kisses your trembling lips. The taste of your cum on his lips arouses you so much that you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him right on top of you. You want more and you want it so bad.

You both pull back slightly panting and Heeseung puts your foreheads together. “I love you, Y/N.” He confesses, sounding dead serious.

He says this as if the two of you didn’t just meet an hour ago. But you don’t care.

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He grins, showing his flawless smile before giving you another peck on the lips. “Ready to get fucked into next week?” He teases lightheartedly to which you laugh at his quirkiness amid the tense moment.

“No, let me suck your dick first. You gave me the type of orgasm I haven’t gotten in MONTHS. It’s only fair.”

Thanks to the light in the room, you could catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s pupils dilating. Did he catch feelings that fast?

He rolls you both over so that now you’re on top. His hand goes to stroke your head, softly encouraging you. “I need those pretty lips around my cock right now. Can you do that for me, prince(ss)?”

You blush with a nod and work your way down his body with kisses, just like he did with you. You pull at the waistband of his boxers and, sure enough, his hard cock comes springing out just for you.

“Mmm, you're big~” You take his dick in your hands and start giving it fluid pumps. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me…” You lean down and kiss the tip before swirling your tongue to get a taste of precum. “Did I turn you on?” You inquire, then take him into your mouth.

The black-haired teen’s body curls up slightly, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure this time. “M-Mm why wouldn’t you? You’re a-amazing.”

You hum in acknowledgment and bob your head further down, nearly reaching his tightening pelvis.

Heeseung’s head lulls to the side, his eyes close to shutting from how well you’re sucking him dry. Anyone right outside your door could probably hear how good you are sucking that dick. He keeps looking down at you, moan after moan erupting from his throat. “You’re so talented. Mhm, yeah, yeah~” He places a hand on your head, helping push your head down on his throbbing cock. “O-O-Oh I’m gonna cum! Y-Y/N please!”

You keep blowing him as if you had just started and never falter in your technique. Not even ten seconds later, his cum shoots out onto your tongue. Still not used to the consistency of cum, you subtly reach for tissues and discreetly spit into them. You stroke the shivering teen through his high, tossing the used tissues into the trash successfully in one go. “Did it feel good?” You ask and let out a giggle.

“Hell yes,” Heeseung sits up panting and pins you down on the bottom half of the bed. “but now I get to fuck you.”

You suck your bottom lip back between your teeth. “Mm, but I wanna top first.” You rub your shin against his thigh. “Is that okay?”

A slightly taken aback Heeseung loosens his grip on your wrists and starts smiling profusely. “Yeah, of course, haha.” He leans down to give you a few more pecks and then rolls onto his back beside you. “There’s condoms in my jacket pocket, if you want to get them..?”

You direct your attention to the clothing discarded on the floor right next to the bed, the jacket amongst the pile. You retrieve a few packets of protection and join your hookup partner back on the bed. His prominent floral scent drags you back over to press your lips against his to which he doesn’t mind a single bit. You lay over top of him just making out for a few minutes.

His technique keeps you wanting more. Sometimes he teasingly pulls back only to kiss you back harder. He pulls at your lips and swipes his tongue with yours. Your noses rub against each other and your hands touch over each other’s bare skin making the both of you moan your pretty sounds. It is probably the hottest making out you’ve ever done.

You pull back when you feel his hardened cock throbbing against your leg. “Fuck baby, how can you be so patient?”

Heeseung slowly opens his eyes to your question. “Because I could kiss your lips forever. I never want to stop.”

You shoot him a pleased grin before working to get a condom out of one of the packets. Once you do, you ease the material onto his cock, feeling it throb in your hands as you do. Either Heeseung hardly gets any action or he really likes you. Though it doesn’t matter to you what it is, you enjoy being the reason he’s extremely horny.

You throw a leg over and saddle his thighs. You tease his tip with your hole and hear him groan as he grabs your waist.

“Y/N you’re so fucking sexy. Put it in.”

“Or else?”

“I’ll punish you. I’ll make sure you can’t walk out of here without your friends’ help tonight.”

“Mmh, I like that Heeseung.” You slip down his erect cock, hiding it deep inside you. You lean down and kiss him again. “But I don’t wanna walk out of here.”

He mumbles something about gluttony, but you don’t think too much of it when his arms wrap around you tightly and he starts thrusting into you.

You’re both moaning messes as he works his dick in and out of you, pounding into you without stuttering once. He’s desperate, chasing his high as he plays with your tongue in your mouths.

You try to say that he’s fucking you good, but between your groaning and your skin slamming together, you might as well start fucking back onto him to let him know instead. Heeseung tilts his head back at your movements on top and you take the chance to mark up his neck. You also start to stimulate your middle so you can cum with him.

“B-Baby(girl/boy), I’m so close. Do you want my cum?”

“Yeah, I want your cum. All of it.”

Heeseung pants heavily by your ear, higher pitch moans coming from his puffy lips when you nibble at the skin of his neck. “A-Ah— Take it Y/N. Take my cum in your pretty little hole.”

He snaps his hips into yours one last time and keeps them there, filling the condom inside you with strings upon strings of warm cum spurting out from his tip. You feel him filling you up and reach your own high, making your own lewd sounds as your orgasm runs through you.

Not much over a minute later, Heeseung flips you back over so he is on top. He makes quick work of his hands and changes into a new condom. “Safeword?”

“(Your safeword).”

You hook up with Heeseung a few more times after the night at the club and with each hookup, the sex gets kinkier and needier. Any kink either of you have, you try it until you are shivering at how well it plays out. He also praises you as much as the first night. No matter what, he can’t get enough of how good you feel giving him head or wrapped around his cock.

It’s clear that Heeseung will keep wanting you with every waking day.

The question is, how long until you’ve had enough?

—

#enhoesnet #minion works #minion hard hours #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen smut oneshot #seven deadly sins #gluttony #gluttony au #seven deadly sins au

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

Not Jealous

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: So I worked on this instead of like, five other things that people want but hey - gal’s gotta have her vices. - Nemo

Summary: Even after years of fancy gatherings, Bruce wants nothing more than to give in to his introvert nature and run away from them. You however, have taught him that after sticking it out, they might not be so bad.

Warnings: Flirting. Bruce get’s jealous but not really ‘cause Batman doesn’t get jealous. Reader has she/her pronouns and is referred to as uh ‘wife’ multiple times.

Listening to: ‘Can’t Take My Eye’s Off You’ by Frankie Valli - ‘Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare... You're just too good to be true.’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Gala’s were something that Bruce never really liked.

As Bruce Wayne - the billionaire, playboy, golden child, Prince of Gotham - he couldn’t get to enough of them.

As Batman - the brooding, ‘I work alone but not really’, Protector of Gotham - he avoided them at all costs.

But as himself - the friend, father, husband, Bruce - his thoughts on such events could only be described as apathetic.

Over the years he grew a very nice façade to hide how he truly felt. After the entrance of his wife, and then each child that followed, it became easier to fake, and he did have to admit they became a little more enjoyable with proper company anyway.

Of course, the first time he saw she who would be his wife at one of these events, she was hanging off the arm of some blond, tanned, rich member of high society. From his knowledge and meetings with her on the streets she wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying it as much as she looked like she was.

Turns out she was one great faker too.

Over the course of the past seventeen-ish years, Bruce got to know the various ways you dealt with these gala’s.

While he was tempted with the recluse lifestyle everyday, you managed to get him out of the house when it was needed. Even if it was a big house, he still needed to get out of it sometimes.

With the outings you used to force him on, he was able to learn a thing or two from you. You weren’t born into wealth like he was, and you never had it until you married him, but you took to it like a fish to water. Well, the avoiding attention part anyway. In fact, when it came to going to gala’s with you, he was surprised at how little attention you drew when you didn’t want it.

The first time you went as a couple, and then again as a married couple, were the worst as far as being left alone went, and he did expect it. Newspapers craved that sort of thing.

After that, when it was just him and you, the most you were asked of was the journey between the car and the front door thanks to the press and media - once inside you could sulk away to a corner or table, get up for a dance or two, loiter at the bar and then go home without anymore than a half dozen people approaching. Those were very good nights for Bruce, mainly because on those nights he’d rather be anywhere else.

As if he didn’t feel that way about them anyway.

But lately your trick of not gaining attention at the gala’s wasn’t working anymore. It wasn’t that people were noticing him again, no it was because they were noticing you.

Namely someone kept noticing you.

“You both have never looked more alike.”

Tim slid into a set opposite Bruce and Damian. Bruce had a crystal tumbler filled with ginger ale pressed to his lips, unmoving as his eyes locked onto where you stood across the room. Damian was in the exact same position, whether knowingly or not, and was sending a glare towards the man who was looking far too happy about talking to you.

“We are kind of literally related, Tim.” Bruce mumbled, sipping his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.

“He’s too close.” Damian whispered.

“I know.”

“She could get uncomfortable soon.”

“I know.”

“If it bothers you so much then either of you could go over there and whisk her away.” Tim said, shaking his head a little. “Bruce could pull out his charisma, or the gremlin could pretend to ask for a dance with his mother all cute and mother-son-like.”

Damian switched his glare over to Tim.

“Why don’t you go and fix it since you’re so smart?”

“‘Cause it’s not bothering me as much as it is you.” Tim laughed. Bruce looked between his two sons, then up to where you and the man were talking. “She can handle herself. Plus he’s way below her league anyway, if she doesn’t know that then something’s wrong.”

“You don’t think Ummi’s being mind controlled right now, do you?” Damian asked, sitting straighter and squinting a little. “We should go home and -”

Bruce stood, patting Damian’s shoulder as he pushed his chair back in, and then strode over to your side.

As usual, you noticed his approach with barely having to look, and reached out an arm as he pressed his side to yours. His arm wound it’s way around your waist, and he offered his free hand to the man whose conversation he probably just ruined.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” he said, lips tight in one of the best and believable fake smiles he’s put on in his entire life.

“Henry Syrus.” The man said, stepping to match Bruce’s fake pleasantries with his own, “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your darling wife about the art pieces here.

“Next time you should compare novelty keychains.” Bruce’s voice was light, but you could tell there was a little something underneath. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take her away for a dance before the night dies down too much.”

So without another word, Bruce swept you away and onto the dancefloor with the hoard of other swaying couples.

“You need to practice that.”

“Practice what?” he asked, looking down at you as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“The ‘I’m taking my wife away from someone who makes me feel like they’re making her feel weird’ thing you just pulled.” you said, a small smile twitching onto your features from your lips up to your eyes - your first genuine smile of the night - and Bruce was proud to think it was because of him.

“I did that?” he mused, feigning thought for a moment, “I don’t think I did.”

“Well you weren’t jealous. Everyone - including you! - says Bruce Wayne does not get jealous.” Bruce spun you away, and then back closer to him again. Closer than before.

“I don’t need to get jealous, I know you can’t resist me.” he mumbled against your ear, then pressed a kiss to your cheekbone before leaning back some again. “That’s why you keep sticking around.”

“I thought I stuck around because you’re filthy rich and never at home, so that I have the place to do as I please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, chuckling, “Now you’re really teasing me.”

“I’m just getting started.” you said, a sly glint in your eye that made his arm around you tighten.

“Oh? Dare I ask what else you have in store?” he replied, preparing to meet whatever you came up with. You hummed at him, surveying the room and fellow dancers before looking back up at him again.

“I’m gonna take you home, pull you into our bedroom, and take you out of this monkey suit -”

“- it’s a tux, not a suit -”

“- I’m going to take you out of this tuxedo,” you corrected, tugging on his tie as he smiled down at you, “And then we’re gonna sleep for twelve. Whole. Hours.” He groaned.

“You love me so much. You know exactly what to say. You treat me so well.”

“I know.” you said, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but press his lips to yours in something a little longer than a peck, and you hummed again. “Now you’re making Henry jealous with all the faces you’re making.”

“How can you tell, you can’t see him?” he asked. Looking over, he was able to see that, yes, the man you were with before wasn’t looking incredibly happy at the moment.

“I’m a mother of at least five children, Bruce. And I have to deal with you. I can tell when someone’s glaring at my back.”

“I do glare a lot.” He grimaced. “I should’ve known better.”

“Underestimate me again and you’ll pay for it.”

“And if I do then you can name your price, my dear.”

#The adventures of batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batman x reader #batman x batmom #batfam x reader #batfam x batmom #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #batman imagine #batman one shot #damian wayne x batmom #tim drake x batmom

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butterflybuckethat · 3 years

Text

Lemonade

Notes: Anthony x Reader - I am out of gifs.

Request: Can you please do a Anthony Bridgerton × Reader fic with the prompt- "Are you blushing?"

🦋 masterlist 🦋

It was your fourth season and, at this point, you had resigned yourself to spinsterhood. Not that you were entirely sold on the concept of marriage in the first place. You had an older brother, there was no reason you had to marry so why do it at all? Why would you sell yourself on the marriage market only to be kept under some man's foot? Once you had realized that, these balls became rather tedious. You still had to attend, of course, for the family's reputation and your mother's nerves- but, really, you were in it the dresses. Your mother had promised you all the newest fashions from Paris if you made even the slightest effort this year. So, you mostly stood in corners, clothed in dresses so expensive it was nearly indecent, hiding behind lemonade glasses. Your only saving grace: Anthony Bridgerton. He was your effort and it had come with little to no work at all.

You had met at a ball early in the season, ducking behind the refreshments table. You were there first, desperately trying to avoid your mother's condescending tone. You knew exactly what she was going to say if she caught you: "Honestly Y/N, you are doing the couture a disservice." And hearing that, from her mouth, would be positively unbearable. Just when you thought you were in the clear, Anthony came ducking in beside you. You just stared at one another a moment before he broke the silence. "Hello," he added a little wave, "do you mind sharing your spot here?" "Please." You responded, because what else could you say to the most notorious rake of the ton. "I am hiding from my matchmaking mother." He clearly felt the need to justify himself. To be fair, you rarely pictured handsome devils squatting behind lemonade tables." "Me, as well." You offered him a sort of commiserating smile. "You do not want to be matchmade?" "This is my fourth season. It seems a little pointless." "I'm sorry, what is your name?" "My point precisely." You laughed a little, dry and filled with mirth, and introduced yourself. "Anthony Bridgerton." He extended his hand for you to shake, which you took. This was highly unusual, to be introduced in this manner. It was almost thrilling. A glass of lemonade fell off the table, splashing the two of you. You both stood abruptly, wiping at your clothing. And who was standing on the other side? Your mother. "Ah, there you are." She looked between you and Anthony before leaning forward, as if to tell you a secret, but spoke at her regular volume: "Now, this is effort." Once out of her earshot, you turned to him. "This is entirely your fault." "My fault?" He laughed. "Perhaps if you didn't ornament yourself so blatantly we wouldn't have been spotted." He was referring to your jewelry, made of various precious stones. You scoffed. "It was the spilled drink and you know it." "Exactly, therefore not my fault." "Absolutely your fault. If you had not crashed my hiding spot-" "Crashed? I do not 'crash' anywhere." "You do." You replied with the same condescending smirk he wore, and the rest was history.

In the months that preceded, Anthony had been your unlikely ally. Perhaps even a friend. Of course, it was highly irregular for men and women to truly be friends unless you had known each other since childhood, and even then it was frowned upon by the more traditional sort. So you and he had to be careful: making sure never to be seen alone or standing too close for fear that someone would think you were courting. And then it would be impossible to end the "courtship" without damaging both of your reputations. There was no dancing or real intimacy but you had to admit that you enjoyed his company. Just standing sort of near one another exchanging witty repartee until his mother asked him to dance with one of his sisters or one such other woman, and then he would come right back and you continued on. These interactions kept you sane and flushed in the most enviable collections of dresses. But all good things had to end at some point.

It was the annual Smythe-Smith musicale and you were seated dead center, next to the Bridgerton's. This was undoubtedly your mother's doing since typically you and she sat in the read to cover stuffing cotton in your ears. There had yet to be many people in the auditorium, besides you. At this particular event, it was your little tradition to take your seat early and relish in the silence before the inevitable eruption of your eardrums. "I take it your family consists of masochists, as well?" Anthony took a seat next to you. You had to admit, he was terribly handsome. And whenever he gave you a sincere smile, you understood his reputation. "Only my mother and I, although we typically sit further back." Anthony leaned toward you slightly, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Really? I find it sounds worse back there." He smelled like vanilla. "Secret weapon." You matched his volume, showing him the cotton you kept tucked in your sleeve. "For shame," he teased, "clearly you have no ear for music." "I believe, that attribution would be more aptly applied to the Smythe-Smith's." "Miss Y/LN, you are truly shameless this evening." You giggled. Giggled. You must have been ill. "Anthony! Introduce me to your new friend." Colin Bridgerton sauntered over holding a sandwich. Anthony audibly groaned but introduced you nonetheless, albeit reluctantly. "Where did you find the sandwich?" You asked. You didn't think they served food. "Colin is part bloodhound." Anthony deadpanned. "Would you like half?" "No, thank you." "I have biscuits, as well." He pulled a stack of biscuits wrapped in a white napkin, which you happily partook in. "Wonderful." You said taking another bite, "You Bridgerton's, always so handy." "Are you handy, Anthony?" He only glared at Colin. The musicale was about to commence and people began filing into the room. Colin stood up, offering his mother his seat, and went to sit in the row behind with his sisters but not before asking, "Mother, have you met Miss Y/LN? She is a new friend of Anthony's." "Intolerable." Anthony scolded his brother who was absolutely unphased, contentedly taking bites of his sandwich. "No!" Lady Bridgerton looked almost giddy. You gave a wary glance to Anthony who offered noting in his expression but solemnity. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She turned to her eldest son, placing her hand on his arm. "It is too bad Benedict could not be here. He would have loved to meet Miss Y/LN, don't you think?" "Why?" He asked incredulously. "Why wouldn't he? She is lovely." Before you could react appropriately to the compliment, Anthony scoffed. You felt a pang in your chest. You didn't know why that hurt so much. You were used to men passing you over, typically not caring in the slightest- even preferring it. But Anthony's abject dismissal of his mother's compliment made your heart ache. Your mother appeared next to you and immediately struck up a conversation with his. They talked over the two of you until Lady Bridgerton asked Anthony to switch seats, so they could sit next to one another. You snuck a glance at the Viscount, he appeared incredibly annoyed. You remained silent in the minutes before the music started, tracing the intricate embroidery on your dress, suddenly feeling very awkward. The musicale began, and no matter how many years you went nothing could prepare you for how awful it was. Anthony only made it five minutes before asking for your cotton. You bit back a sigh of relief- everything could go back to normal- and passed it to him, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when your fingers touched. The room seemed to release a collective sigh of relief when the girls stopped playing. "Can you believe that was only two hours?" Anthony whispered. "Not possible. It had to be six, at least." You overheard Lady Bridgerton telling your mother "you and your daughter must come for tea tomorrow," and you stopped dead in your tracks. Anthony was also rather frozen. "That sounds lovely!" She looked to you, "Doesn't it?" You made some garbled affirmative noise in

response and they just went on talking. Anthony recovered before you did. "I apologize for my mother. She is quite the managerial type, always trying to set us up. For instance, that Benedict comment..." That snapped you out of it. "What was that?" You looked up at him as he continued to watch your mothers. "I believe she was trying to make me jealous." Your eyes widened and lips parted; words on the tip of your tongue but you refrained, deciding you did not want to know.

That afternoon in the Bridgerton's drawing-room came quicker than you would have liked. You put on your favorite dress, the red satin one with perfect seams, and braced yourself for what was to come. It started out incredibly awkward. Lady Bridgerton and your mother chattered as you sat there, across from Anthony, not daring to move a muscle. You had never done this before. Never once had this crossed your mind. You weren't prepared. "Breathe." Anthony mouthed once he caught your eye. You seemed to relax after that, answering Lady Bridgerton's questions about your accomplishments and laughing at Eloise Bridgerton's interjections. "You have the most expensive wardrobe of anyone I have ever met." Eloise stated. Not in a judgemental way, more like she was making an observation. Her mother was horrified. You were about to respond but Anthony beat you to it. "But she looks phenomenal in it, wouldn't you agree?" Heat rose to your cheeks. You were turning the same color as your dress, you were sure of it. "Are you blushing?" He teased that easy was that made your brain turn to mush. "No." "Good one." "Mother?" A male voice called from the hallway. "In here, dear." And Benedict Bridgerton stepped into the room with a lopsided grin and a kiss for his mother. "Benedict, I would like to introduce you Miss Y/LN." "Enchanté." He made some large gesture and kissed your hand. "Do you feel significantly wooed?" He asked you, looking back at his mother with an apologetic grin. And you giggled, again. What was going on? "I'm not sure." You tapped your lips in mock contemplation, "Are you keeping a puppy back there or-" "I'm going to take that as a yes and head off to the stables." He laughed. "It was a pleasure to meet you." "The pleasure was all mine." What was it about these Bridgerton men that made you feel so much less of yourself? Why Anthony only needed to- "You're blushing again." He spoke, his mouth returning to its serious line. "I think I have a fever." He moved to your couch and pressed his bare hand to your forehead and then your cheek. "No." He was back to laughing. "Do I make you nervous?" You were beet red, no way around it. "I think I make you nervous." You looked around the room, apparently, no one was paying any attention. Or, at least, trying very hard not to. "You forget yourself, Lord Bridgerton." He gave an insincere apology. What was he doing? He had never been this forward before. And then it dawned on you. "You're jealous." "What?" He spluttered. "What you said yesterday about Benedict..." You inspected him more closely: his eyes dropped from yours and you could have sworn he wore a pink tinge. "You are jealous!" "You are, aren't you?" Eloise joined in, never missing an opportunity to make fun of her brother. "Is this a regular occurrence?" "I cannot imagine he gets like this with all the women Benedict flirts with." Eloise got closer to you both, getting comfortable in Anthony's former seat across from you. "Stay out of this." He barked. And you looked at him and he looked at you and your chest began to flutter and this was so so bad.

"Why is it you do not want to get married, again?" You were out in the gardens, trailing behind your mothers. "I have heard so many terrifying stories about women in bad marriages and I do not want that to be me." "Do you not believe in love?" "I do." "But you do not want it for yourself?" You stopped and turned to him. "Neither do you." "I want it for others." He shrugged. "What game are you playing?" "I-" "You are trying to set me up with your brother, is that it?" "No." He responded firmly. "Then what-" "I just think you deserve it." He kissed your hand and jogged up to your mothers; leaving you there, blushing in the grass.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton ff #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #requested #lemonade

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hockeywhy · 3 years

Text

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

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

one.

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

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

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

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

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

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

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

You needed a plus one. Desperately.

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

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

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, Matt—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

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

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

“Here you are.”

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

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

What the hell.

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

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

“Oh we’re just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, it’s torture.”

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

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

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

“Thought about it already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it my jersey?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll auction it on eBay.”

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

two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here for vacation?” he asked.

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

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

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

“The red ones are nicer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

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

“Sorry—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

three.

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

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

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

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

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

You wrong number

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

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

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

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

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing?

You [emoji: middle finger]

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

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

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

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

Matthew :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who was?”

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

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

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

“Because I couldn’t.”

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

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

“You don’t owe me—”

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

“No smoothie diets this time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

four.

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

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

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

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

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation.

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

“Matthew,” you warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing, definitely need it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+ one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?”

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tired of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s…really not what I said.”

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

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

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

793 notes · View notes

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

Hello, i want to req kazuha x f!reader and if you can do nsfw, please 👉🏻👈🏻 since it's kazuha, maybe he's more like soft!dom. Thank you!

IEHFIEH OKAY OKAY I got really excited about writing this so it's a WHOPPING 3K WORDS! So many words

Kazuha's another Xiao situation for me, it seems...not to mention my favorite to write is very painfully obviously soft doms. That being said, I did make him a little more flirty than his voice lines suggest.

The poem that is referenced in the fic is In the Sea of Iwami by Kakinomoto Hitomaro!

Drowning in You

Summary: At first, you know little of the mysterious ronin's past, but little by little, you find your fates entwined.

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) Kazuha x afab!reader, soft dom!Kazuha, reader is traveler but not Aether or Lumine, small mention of alcohol, hint of overstim, poetic

How vast, the ocean seems to be, even more so in the dark of night. Above, the sky is a spattered array with thousands of glittering stars, the moon but a sliver. The ship gently rocks in the calm waters as a meager dot upon waves. Despite the moon's position already setting back down along the dark curtain of night and the crew's final decision to retire to their quarters, you're awake.

Lost in all the thoughts of how you've just begun to experience all Liyue has only to now be well on your way to Inazuma.

The dangers that others have spoken of, that you know are to come…you’re sure that your resolve will be tested once more in the unfamiliar land.

The silent repose is interrupted by a voice.

"May I join you, traveler?"

Kazuha.

As you've come to find in the few days you've been aboard the Alcor, the red-dressed man often sits and watches the way the waves roll along the surface of the ocean and the birds soar across the sky. Lost in all that the sea has to offer, there's hardly a moment when he's not tuned in to the whispers of nature in quiet appreciation. Though, you notice, never this toward morning.

Shuffling to the side, you pat the solid wooden deck beside you. He takes a seat with legs folded beneath him.

"It's beautiful tonight—the gentle breeze, the sounds of the water hitting the hull...I fully understand the appeal. But why is it you're still awake?"

Before tonight, you've hardly heard the gentle timbre of his voice. The raspiness—whether natural or from his own fatigue, you're not sure, but a feeling of warmth settles. It swirls, tempting. Breaking your thoughts, you politely meet his gaze.

"Thinking, of everything, I guess."

You pull your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. Though it’s a warm night, the breeze provides a chill from the ocean.

"Of Inazuma, too."

Kazuha hums in understanding.

Once more, the silence of the ship and sea envelop you to drift back to your thoughts, closing your eyes and forgetting what your handsome companion just stirred in you.

But your mind drifts back to him regardless.

Your heart quickens at the thought of him staring out towards the sea, the sun shining down just right and highlighting pale hair and scarlet eyes.

There’s little doubt that he’s caught your eye, handsome, with an aura of unknown strength. A wanted man, from what Beidou has told you. Forever on the run and far from home. She fully believes there’s no need to worry, but you know others might think otherwise.

They whisper how it’s certain with the breathtaking skill he displays in his swordsmanship that his abilities come from a multitude of experience. Speaking of the way he keeps so to himself. A samurai with a lack of a master.

A ronin.

It’s not surprising, the rumors that spread quick.

Though, you find, the speculation of danger quickly dissipates once the realization of his gentle spirit and knack for poetry comes to light. He’s gentle, you realize. Kind.

It’s hard to believe someone as free-spirited as he would be a criminal.

Kazuha is patient, body turned so he’s facing you while you think, examining the look upon your features. The realization that you’ve been lost in your thoughts about the very man warms your cheeks. You finally speak up.

“And you?”

“Most of the same,” He replies. “There’s no need to worry—about Inazuma, I mean. After what I’ve seen, I trust in your abilities.”

His hand settles atop one of yours. Its touch is warm.

“I may not be able to join you, but I’m sure of this.”

You look back out to the deep blue waters. But he doesn’t move, not until you look back into eyes the color of the very maple leaves he dons.

Expression serious, Kazuha leans closer. The skip in your chest worsens the heat that creeps up your neck and cheeks. But as quickly as he does, he pulls away, his hand returning to lay in his lap.

“Away I have come, parting from her / Even as the creeping vines do part. / My heart aches within me…”

Wistful, he recites, and turns his gaze to the moon.

“A poem, from my homeland. Bittersweet in it’s meaning. Whether he sees his lover upon his return—it isn’t known.”

“Do you? Miss someone?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not quite in the same way. A friend. Though I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have someone like that. Someone to hold so dearly within your very being that the thought of being without them brings physical pain…”

A hand lifts, pressing to his chest as if trying to feel for heaviness.

The two of you watch the night for a bit longer in silence.

As your long and arduous journey dwindles, you find yourself seeking Kazuha’s company more and more.

Unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

Most often, it’s between duties on the ship, arms leaning against the wood banister as you both watch the waves and birds as they meet in swoops. They glide with wings tucked, diving into the murky waters, soon to break back through with a prize.

An osprey, he tells you.

The pleasant bird-watching comes quickly to an end before you’re both swept back into work until late afternoon when the crew gathers to drink and celebrate.

After all, there’s only a few days left until you finally dock at your destination and the night is beautiful and clear.

You find Kazuha tucked away towards the quarterdeck.

With everyone else scattered on the main deck, the two of you are left alone with the waves and wind.

“You’re not going to join them?”

He looks up from his drink, setting it down before rising. Despite the way the sun has set, you can clearly see the mirth dancing in his eyes. Kazuha stops a few inches away from your face with his head tilted in question.

“Weeks we have known each other now…should I be offended that you’re still asking that?”

Clearly the unimpressed look on your face is enough to make him chuckle and apologize.

“No, I won’t be joining them. Not when I’d rather stay away and have you to myself instead.”

You flush and give him a little push. Again, he laughs and apologizes but you know that he doesn’t mean it. Regardless, you brush past him to sit where he was before, patting the deck in a way not different from that first night. All the same, your heart skips a beat.

“May I join you, traveler?”

A smile spreads across your lips. “Of course.”

So he sits and the two of you find solace in the little conversations you have.

It’s nice, to have someone to be close to, to share interests despite having backgrounds so distinct. He offers you a bit of his drink and you take a sip, holding it between both your hands. The face you make, he decides, is unforgettable just as it is hilarious. But his innocent enjoyment only lasts so long.

A dribble of the deep liquid beads at the corner of your lip.

You miss the way that his attention flicks to the way your tongue peeks out to catch the glistening drop.

Kazuha shifts, eyes flicking from your lip back down to the cup in your hand.

When his hand touches yours, guiding you to place the cup down, you snort. But he continues so he can interlace your fingers with his, to hear the way your breath shifts and sees how your pupils dilate when you realize the difference in his mood.

Would you mind if he were to…?

When your lips part and your eyes lower to his, he gets his answer.

"I hear the way that your heart beats loudly in your chest, your breath bated...” Really, his own hammers in his chest, louder than the crash of waves against the ship’s hull. He squeezes your hand.

“Just as I can feel your desire."

And truthfully, you know he’s noticed the way your gaze lingers on him. How when you two accidentally brush hands that you don’t immediately pull away. Not anymore.

Small flashes of little interactions with him come to light.

Finally, he leans in, and you find that his lips taste of the lingering bitterness of wine, tongue sweet as it laps at yours. He looses himself in the velvet of your lips and how they seem to meld to his so perfectly, the music of your sighs filling his senses and your heart beats like the rumble of the ocean.

To know what it’s like to hold someone so dear…this must be what that is.

Languid, your lips move against each other’s, reluctant to stop. Under the light of the maroon sky, you’re cloaked in the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally parts, you’re laying against the deck with him hovering above you.

“I don’t want to regret this—the mere thought of being apart…”

He brushes a stray hair from your face, fingertips tracing over the curve of your cheek.

“Even if it means I will be risking my life, I will follow where you go. Destiny has made its mark, so who am I to break it?”

How can you refuse, seeing the sincerity of his vow, trusting the very man you met and befriended and come to love in a few weeks’ time? To know his gentle nature, the way that he seems always so aware of the world around him, the carefree way he approaches all he does—you’d known, somewhere deep within, that the moment he asks to accompany you, you’d selfishly say yes.

But it’s all too much to express in word, so you pull him down to meet you, desperate and yearning.

It’s easy, natural, the way that you melt into each other, fumbling as he helps you stand up—to make your way to his quarters between kisses.

The others still are above deck celebrating, unaware of the blossoming bloom between you, the private quarters void of anyone else. The door to his room swings open as soon as he turns the knob and you take him by his lapels and pull him inside.

The door closes with a soft click.

Setting you down upon his berth, he meets you for another kiss before beginning the tedious task of undressing. Even in a hurry, he carefully folds each article, ensuring their safety. When he turns, you’re left bare as well, looking at him through halfmoon eyes.

In his lungs, his breath is caught.

You’re beautiful.

So he says it in word and in the way that he guides you to lay with his body between your spread legs.

You utter his name, cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch while you guide him back down to you. It takes little for him to follow your movements, drawn in like the sweet song of a siren.

He claims you in the kisses peppered over your lips and jaw, dragging down to dip in the hollow of your neck. Beneath him, your pulse jumps and your neck flexes. So he continues, reverent. Pledging loyalty with every brush of his lips against your skin.

Yours, all yours.

Busied with the sensation of him, you relax, offering yourself to his touch. His unbandaged hand travels over the soft planes of your body, cupping breasts and hip, careful as it travels to press fingertips into your thigh. It lingers, so close.

The feel of your hand timid on his chest encourages him to explore the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before finally, finally tracing along your wetted cunt.

“Please—”

His fingers tease, sliding up and down along it, making you shiver beneath him. A sight to behold, one that makes his heart sing and stutter at once. And they draw out a shaky moan when they press into you.

He takes his time in the movement of his fingers, coaxing you with a curve and the dulcet tone of his voice in your ear.

Left with his name on your tongue, your arms wrap around his neck, wanting him closer, closer. He obliges. All you want in this moment is him—impatience running quick.

Kazuha is taken by surprise when you take him into your hand, marveling at the way his hips press closer to your touch.

It’s strange to be touched this way, even with his past experiences. How it feels to be caressed by you so intimately, just the idea of it being you beneath him, touching him, him touching you. He wants more of it. And so he bucks into your hand with hot desire coursing through his veins.

For a while, the two of you delight in each other’s bodies.

When he draws his fingers from your core, he doesn’t bother with the way your slick clings to his skin, replacing your hand around his cock with his own and propping himself up with legs kneeled and hips slotted between yours.

With bated breath you observe as he gazes into your eyes.

Even so smoldered with desire, they’re impossibly clear and gentle, reflecting the very swirl of emotions you feel with every thump of your pulse. Leaning closer, Kazuha brushes his lips to yours, slow.

“You’re trembling—are you cold?”

The room feels fine despite your state of undress, though he continues before you can speak.

“Allow me to warm you up...”

When he finally kisses you deep, his hips press into yours and fill you.

The ship sways, each rock back and fourth amplified with how he holds you close to him, how he whispers sweetly in your ear and describes just how good it feels for you to squeeze around him like that. Once more you’re swept into all he gives you.

Kazuha thrusts, every movement deliciously slow. The brush of his cock against your walls makes your eyes flutter and your lips part with every gasp.

Every sigh draws him in deeper. Slow, fluid.

With the ebb and flow of his movements, you find yourself lost. He is the raging tempest dragging you down to the murky depths yet is the same gentle wind that cools you. You’re lost in the way that he moans your name in your ear and hips barely pull away from yours before burying back deep.

You—spread beneath him with your legs bent to his sides—in the dim light drives him. Kazuha finds that no matter where he looks, how close his body is pressed to yours, it’s never quite enough. Every sigh that’s drawn from your lungs is the voice that calls to him to wander.

He’s mesmerized.

Each push stirs that need in you for more, coming to life in the way that your body arches to meet his. Almost…as if feeling him against you is your lifeline—a deep, unyielding need. The same strange feeling that he knows is coming to life within him. And with how you so sweetly grasp at his shoulders in your hands, he’s certain it is.

His arm slides down, hand flat against your lower back to lift your hips. Eager, you comply. A few strokes of his hips with the delicious drag provided by the new angle, and you cry out in whimpers.

“Right there—please, please-“

Murmuring your name, his lips press to your ear and his hips speed up as he searches for that spot once more. He’s good—feels so so good.

A kiss to your temple accompanies the quick build of the knot deep in your abdomen, pulling taut and teasing your release.

“Where should I touch you?” The croon of his voice calls.

You guide his hand between your writhing bodies, a shock of pleasure jolting when the pad of his finger brushes against where you’re most sensitive. Only moments pass before your vision flickers, body tensing and a choked moan escaping past your ruddied lips.

It’s too much—his careful movements to hit the right spot and the way his fingers trace over your skin and he finds himself lost in the feeling as well. The lingering feeling of your high sends shocks with every movement he gives, both of you left trembling. Shaky hands try to grab at his chest and arm, pulling it away.

He stills, just holding you close.

He can feel it again, the flutter of your pulse, when his lips pepper kisses along your jaw and neck to bring you back to him.

Finally back from your high, Kazuha carefully slides from within you in lieu of laying by your side. You’re still breathing hard when careful movements pull the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of your forms. With an arm draped over your now covered hip, he smiles soft.

The wind howls outside.

"Do you really mean it, Kazuha?”

He lifts his arm so you can turn onto your side, looking up at him with your head on the pillow. It’s cute the way the soft material forms around your cheek. But you’re still waiting for his answer.

The ronin simply places a kiss on your forehead, the warm brush of his lips punctuating his words.

“I will follow you til the day the sun ceases to shine—so long as you are by my side, the wind shall blow and the tides ebb. This shall be my vow to you...”

It isn’t until your expression relaxes, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the gentle rock of the ocean, eyes closed and your breathing even that he speaks once more. It’s quiet, save for the creaking of wood and the faraway shouts of the crew above in their revelry. Here, laying besides you, the feeling within his chest carefully tended to, Kazuha finds a new purpose. A newfound desire.

“…whom I love with a love / deep as the miru-growing ocean.”

#kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #oh my god this took so long I'm sorry dear anon-#anon asks #this is all for u anon and Kazu simps come and get ya juice sip sip

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fantasy au #bts soulmate au #bts historical au #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff

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