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#win fluff
demigods-posts · 30 days
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i feel like percy is the type of fighter who would laugh if a monster ran away from him out of fear. but annabeth is the type of fighter who would call them a coward and run after it.
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hairmetal666 · 1 month
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Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.
He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.
Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.
"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.
"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.
"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."
He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.
Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."
"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."
Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."
"Is it?"
He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."
"My point exactly."
His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.
---
The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.
Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.
Or so Eddie thought.
Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.
"Harrington?"
"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."
Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.
Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"
The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.
By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.
The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.
His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.
Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."
And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.
Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.
Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.
It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.
They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.
"You won," Steve says.
"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."
"You deserved it."
He shrugs. "I don't know about that."
"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"
Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"
Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.
"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.
"You--what?"
"What if I did mean it?"
"You're straight."
Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."
"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"
"Um. Since you invited me to this?"
"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"
"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"
"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"
"I thought that happened to everyone!"
"It doesn't!"
"That's what Robin said!"
They're both yelling.
"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.
"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"
He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.
"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"
"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."
"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."
Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."
"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.
He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.
"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."
He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"
"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."
Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.
"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.
"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."
And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.
He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.
Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."
"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.
"Why not?"
"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.
Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.
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greycaelum · 8 months
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How do you welcome a husband from an unfinished war?
How would you patch his wounds knowing the battle is not yet done?
How would you hug him when his side is still aching from the finishing blow?
Your hands flew on your lips as your tears fell, seeing him standing amidst the battle field.
"He won..."
"Gojo Satoru defeated Sukuna!"
Someone murmured in the background and you couldn't care enough. Beneath your tears is a screaming heart begging for him to come out of the battle field so you could hide him away.
This is enough right? Satoru already did his part, didn't he?
"Hey, pretty..." Satoru grinned he tucks a strand of your hair at the back of your ear. He winces but waves it away in a blur. "Why's my Baby crying? I won."
Your lips tremble as you look at him all battered and bloody, never minding the gashes he sustained, your arms held his hand in all care you could muster and press it on your cheeks.
"Can we go home now, Satoru? Can I now take you back home?"
You couldn't look him in the eyes but you felt the exhausted arms wrap around you, and for what seems like forever, he let his weight fall into you, urging you to hold him up, finally letting himself have your help in shouldering what is on his shoulders.
Satoru inhaled your scent, it filtered into his nostrils, reminding him of home as he murmured to your ears.
"Just a second Baby, give me a few seconds with you, like this."
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—Grey,
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imdead770 · 2 months
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THIS
THIS IS WHY HE COULD'VE RECRUITED ME IN SECONDS LIKE
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I will GLADLY betray everyone for u bbg 🫶
Whatever you say goes 😘❤️
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jaylver · 1 year
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WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS
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SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.
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PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance
WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )
WC: 14k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !
part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist
© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.
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“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”
Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.
You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?
“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.
“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.
The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.
You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.
“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.
The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.
“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.
Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.
“Did–”
“That–”
The two of you paused.
“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.
As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.
“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.
“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.
“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.
“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.
“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”
“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.
Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.
“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”
“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”
“Didn’t he flirt with you?”
“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.
“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.
“You’re praying on my downfall,”
“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”
You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”
“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”
“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”
“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.
“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.
“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”
“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”
“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.
“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”
“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”
You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”
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“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”
You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.
"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.
"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.
“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”
"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.
“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”
You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.
Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.
It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.
“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.
You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”
You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.
“It’s … you,”
“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,”
That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”
He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.
“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”
“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.
“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.
“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.
You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”
“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.
He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.
“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”
“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”
“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.
You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.
You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.
Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”
“You think so?”
“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”
“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”
“For free? I can't say no, can I?”
“You wish. Now turn around,”
Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.
You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.
“Heeseung?”
He hummed in response.
“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”
Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.
“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.
“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.
You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.
“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.
“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.
“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.
“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”
“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”
He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”
“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”
“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”
“Sucks to be you,”
Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”
“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”
“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”
“So, I’ve caught your attention?”
“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.
“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.
“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.
You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”
Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”
“Why not?”
“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.
“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.
“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”
“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”
You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”
"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.
When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.
"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.
“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”
“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”
“We’re not there yet, hello?”
“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.
"Please read some self help books too,"
"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"
"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"
Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"
"How so?"
"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.
"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.
"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."
"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"
Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.
"This is why you should date a footballer,"
You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.
“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.
"Me!"
"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"
"Ouch,"
You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.
"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.
"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.
"Okay? Any games coming up?"
"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.
"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.
"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"
You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.
"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.
"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.
"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.
"Let's go!"
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"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"
Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.
"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.
"How do you know?"
"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"
Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.
Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.
“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.
“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.
Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”
“Shut up.”
The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.
There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.
With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.
The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.
“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.
“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.
You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.
Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.
Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.
“Y/N?”
You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”
“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"
"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"
"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.
He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”
“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.
“You like me, huh?”
“Not in that way yet,”
“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”
“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.
“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.
“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.
You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.
"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.
"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.
"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"
"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.
"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"
Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”
“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.
“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”
“Alright, captain.”
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“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”
You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.
“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.
“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”
“Touche.”
You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.
"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.
"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.
"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"
"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"
"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.
"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"
"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.
"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"
"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.
"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.
"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.
"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.
“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.
He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”
“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.
“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.
You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.
“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.
“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.
“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”
“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.
“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.
“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.
The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.
You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.
It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.
“You’re here?”
You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.
“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.
“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”
“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.
“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.
“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.
“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.
“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.
He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.
“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.
“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”
You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”
He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”
You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”
“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.
You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.
“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.
"Why?"
You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.
Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.
"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"
"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"
"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"
"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"
You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"
"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"
You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”
“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“Sounds good,”
“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.
It was about to be a long week ahead.
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“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”
Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.
“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.
“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”
“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”
“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”
“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.
“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.
You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping’.
At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.
“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.
“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.
“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”
“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.
The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.
After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.
Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.
“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.
“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.
“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”
“Heeseung!”
You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.
“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.
Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.
You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”
“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.
“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”
“I think it would be longer than five hours,”
“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”
Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”
“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”
“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”
“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.
“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.
“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”
Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.
“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.
“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”
Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”
There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.
“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.
“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”
“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”
You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”
Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”
You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”
“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”
Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.
“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”
“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.
“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.
There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.
“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.
“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.
“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”
Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”
“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.
“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”
You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”
Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”
“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”
You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”
“You think so?”
Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”
"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.
"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.
"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"
"Did our plan work a little too well?"
"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.
You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.
"Y/N?"
Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.
You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.
“So…how are you—”
“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.
“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”
“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”
He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.
“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.
“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”
Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”
“Yeah, she is,”
You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.
“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.
“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.
“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”
At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”
“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?
“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.
“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”
“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.
“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.
“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”
“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.
“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.
Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”
“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.
“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”
“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.
“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.
“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.
Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”
Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”
“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.
“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.
“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.
“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”
“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”
“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”
“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”
“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.
“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.
“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.
“Might have to make some adjustments then.”
“Mean.”
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NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened. 
"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.
"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.
"Kissed Y/N yet?" 
You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.
"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.
"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.
"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."
"Fuck."
It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.
“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”
You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"
"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"
"Yes."
"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"
"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.
“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
“I’m hoping he would,”
“Why don't you do it?”
“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”
“Right …”
Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.
"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"
"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.
"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"
"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"
“Yeah?”
“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,” 
“It’s not that serious,”
“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”
“Don’t tell me it’s …”
“Heeseung. Small world, right?”
Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"
"You just love chaos,"
"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.
"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"
"Lame," Yunjin booed.
"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"
"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"
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"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"
Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.
"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.
"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.
Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.
The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.
Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.
Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.
Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.
You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.
"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"
"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.
"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.
The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.
“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand. 
‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good. 
You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.
You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.
"You're wearing my jersey,"
"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"
"To me it is,"
"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.
"Do you still think I’m cute?"
"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.
“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.
“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”
Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”
“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”
“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"
"It's okay, Hee—"
"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"
You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."
"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"
"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.
“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.
“What if I told you I am?”
“Oh, I know,”
Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"
"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"
"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"
"Partially, but I did have a feeling," 
"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"
You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"
"I'm easily intimidated,"
"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"
"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"
"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"
"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"
"Fuckboy-ness?"
"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"
"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"
"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"
"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"
"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"
"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"
"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"
"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw. 
You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 
Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"
"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"
"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"
"I'm down,"
"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"It's whatever you like,"
"Pick me up at 7,"
"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"
"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"
"You two are so alike, it's scary,"
"We're besties for a reason."
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IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.
"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"
Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.
"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"
And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.
"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.
It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.
"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"
"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"
"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.
"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.
The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.
"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.
"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"
"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"
"See? I'm always right,"
"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.
"I love you,"
Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.
"Did I—"
"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.
"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.
"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"
"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"
"Say less, captain." 
Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.
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5K notes · View notes
temeyes · 9 months
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i,, i don't know what possessed me,,
3K notes · View notes
ghost-proofbaby · 2 months
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when you know, you know. (e.m.)
summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.
warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.
pairing: eddie munson x reader
wc: 1.8k+
a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.
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“Yes!” 
If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 
“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 
You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 
Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.
You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 
But it hadn’t. 
It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 
The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 
The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 
“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 
“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 
“And why would you ever do that?” 
Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 
“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 
You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 
You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.
He was an absolute weirdo as well. 
Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 
That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 
He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 
“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 
He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”
“You just-”
You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 
Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 
Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 
“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.
“It was your prize.”
“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 
Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 
You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 
If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 
He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”
He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 
You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 
“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 
He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 
He wants you to kiss him. 
Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 
Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 
He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 
“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 
He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”
You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 
The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 
“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 
His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 
You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 
When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 
Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 
But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 
And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 
“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 
Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.
Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 
Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.
It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 
“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 
Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 
Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.
Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 
They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 
But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 
Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 
Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 
Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.
Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 
It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  
“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.
“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 
“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.
Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 
Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 
Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 
Eddie nods enthusiastically. 
“Steve? Our Steve?” 
Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 
“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”
Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 
“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 
Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 
But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 
Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 
“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 
“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 
Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 
“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 
Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 
“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 
Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 
“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 
“Steve.” Robin warns.
“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 
They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 
“Achoo!” 
“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 
“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 
“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 
“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”
“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 
She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 
Huh? 
“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 
“Robin.” Steve gasps. 
Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 
She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.
Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 
“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.
“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 
“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 
“Did you hear—“
“What was Robin—“
Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”
Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 
“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 
Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 
Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 
“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 
Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 
“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 
Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 
Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 
There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.
After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.
Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 
He makes it for him instead.
(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.
On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)
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sweeetcheeese · 4 months
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warning: winter spirits are very ticklish and will become violent when provoked.
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demigods-posts · 2 months
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headcanon that whenever percy returns home from a date with annabeth, and he does that thing where he presses his back against the door and slides down to the floor with dreamy look in his eyes. and sally and paul, both beaming with happiness for their son, asks if the date went well. and he just sighs and smiles like he just saw elysium himself.
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lunarwednesday · 1 year
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is it all right to hold onto you like this, forever?
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andersonlore · 4 months
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#BRAINROT! — abby anderson x reader
abby never thought she would be so lucky to have an opportunity like this. the two of you were roommates, two peas in a pod unable to be separated until ellie had won your heart. filled with anguish, abby had tolerated your relationship for the past two years. putting on the bravest face, being supportive, letting you lean on her through the lows of ellie.
ellie wouldn’t see it this way.
your girlfriend, seemed to grow an ugly green head at the burly blonde’s wondering eyes. ellie had made her case many times, trying to convince you abby wanted more than to be your best friend during your relationship. she wants you. stupid, rage fueled arguments started by her always ended up with a curse of roommate’s name. all roads lead to abby, especially your big blow up fight a few nights ago.
ellie gave you an ultimatum, her or abby.
both of them were here at the new year’s eve party with jesse as rhetorical hosts and you decided to stew. angrily, bitterly stewing. ellie didn't have the right to push someone out of your life just because she felt jealous. someone you care about, one of the few people who fully understands, helped you through your lowest moments and ellie expected you to just cut ties, as if it’s easy. as if you want to.
ellie is sitting next to dina on the couch and abby just made her way outside on the patio to watch the fireworks. the god awful turning feeling growing in the bottom of your stomach, nerves boiling over as rhea adrenaline pumped through your veins because you knew.
you knew, you knew, you knew.
the person you couldn’t leave without, the answer became clear when forced upon you.
you watch the clock as it winds down.
11:57
she didn’t speak a single word all night. all you were welcomed with were puppy eyes and a bleeding heart each second you refused to talk with her. ellie’s green orbs caught wind of your own, looking at her. you know she loves you, even when she can’t help it when she becomes crazy jealous, only spurring out insane nonsense. in her own way, she does but the anger her father left is drowning you, making it inescapable. she wants you to come to her, you know she does. even if ellie is mean when she’s afraid, she irrevocably in love with you.
but you can’t. because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself. you knew she didn’t want to be, but her eyes filled with regret as yours resembled pity. it beamed as brightly as a full moon on a starless evening, tears in her eyes as you made yourself across the living room to the back door.
11:58
your senses are met with the smell of cigarettes and cheap tequila, but you see her sitting beside herself away from her friends. she’s on a bench swing, rocking her body weight back and forth. she looks perfect with a beanie as her locks lightly framed her chin.
she’s anxious, forefinger picking at the label in beer, condensation making it easy for it fall away. abby wonders if everything will leave just as easily, you mainly. tonight at least she does, you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone really. she wonders if she did something wrong, if she’s hurt you in any type of way. abby hopes she’s just in her head too much because she can’t stand the thought of you hurt at all, but especially by her hands.
abby is pouting so badly, she misses you going up to her. until your weight sends the swing moving slightly, before she digs her feet into the wooden planks. you grab a swing of her beer, a drink you ate but you’ll need all help you can get if you still want to follow through with this.
it isn’t because this is difficult, it’s the easiest thing you’ve done all year. it terrifies how quickly you made the decision once you picture a life without her. you can’t see one, it’s not a possibility at all.
11:59
“c’mon, what you are you doing out here? it’s almost midnight. go find ellie, bub. is everything good?” abby says, but you almost don’t catch a thing she’s saying. you’re looking at her lips, licking your own in anticipation.
“it’s cold, too. where’s you jacket?” abby doesn’t wait for you to respond. she peels of your bomber, wrapping it warmly over your shoulders.
“i guess, i don’t know, i got distracted. i’m perfectly fine, abby.” you say, getting lost in beautiful blues. never really appreciating them like you should. if she let you, from this moment on, you’d never stop.
you’re leaning in closer to her, right hand resting on her thigh, and abby’s more confused than ever.
“are you sure everything is alright? why aren’t you trying to find ellie?” abby furrowed her eyebrows, trying to put the pieces together but nothing was fitting.
“i know exactly where ellie is.”
“okay….” abby looked at you skepticism glazed over her face.
the people you love, friends and family, they start count down from sixty.
“can you tell me what’s going on?”
“ellie wants me to make a choice and i’m making it. so just, sit there, ring the new year by my side and let me, please?” you begged.
“she really said it’s me or her?” abby whispered out, trying to hide the small grin trying to break out. all you did was give a nod.
the counts come down to twenty when abby asks another a question. “your girlfriend of two years gives you an ultimatum, and you’re deciding to sit with me.” the blonde is having a hard time believing you, slowly putting the pieces together one by one.
“yeah, there’s isn’t anyone i’d rather be. it’s you abby, i-it always has been.” you move your head so you can look at her, the two of you are leaning in closer, it’s when you notice the love in her eyes. how deeply it flows and god you hope it flows all over you. maybe it’s been there all along, just waiting for you to be there, waiting for you to feel the first drop.
12:00
everyone’s cheering as abby’s lips meet yours and dear god are they perfect. luscious, bottom lip separates your own as her calloused hands cradle your face as she angles the kiss deeper. abby pulls you closer as she handles you with all love in the world. you forget where you are and you’re moaning into the kiss, allowing abby to slide her velvet tongue in your mouth, claiming you for the first time.
the moment she’s imagined is more perfect than she deserves but she takes it anyways. abby can’t believe it as she pulls away, forehead resting against her, looking at you like you just the placed the world in her hands. and in a way, you kind of did.
“if there was ever any doubt, it’s always been you, too. but, i’m pretty sure you already knew it. i’m not one for subtly.” abby kisses you once more, and now you know this is how it was always meant to feel.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Advanced Interrogation Technique: Dog
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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months
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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike
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Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?
Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader
Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.
Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)
Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.
Divider by the amazing @saradika
Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
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“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”
“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.
“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.
“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.
There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.
He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.
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Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.
“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.
“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”
Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”
The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.
“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”
You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”
Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.
“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”
Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”
It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.
“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.
You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”
Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.
Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.
“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.
“A few weeks, probably.”
“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”
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“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”
Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.
And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.
It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.
“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.
You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”
And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”
When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.
“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.
“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”
You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.
“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.
“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.
“That’ll be a no then.”
There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.
“You look well.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.
“So do you.” You compliment back.
There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.
“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.
You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”
“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”
He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”
You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”
Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.
“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”
“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to show you?”
He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.
“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.
“Second.”
He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.
“Which room?”
It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.
It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.
He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.
Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.
“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”
“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.
Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.
A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”
You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”
“And if I asked you not to?”
“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”
You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”
He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”
You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.
So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”
“Good girl.”
It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.
His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.
Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.
Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.
He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.
“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”
He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.
“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”
He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.
Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”
Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.
“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”
So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.
“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”
“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”
And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.
“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.
“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”
He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.
There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.
“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.
“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.
“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”
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Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.
He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.
“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”
It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.
Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.
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“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”
“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”
She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”
There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.
“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”
She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.
“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.
“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”
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When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.
“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.
“I’ve been looking at you.”
“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”
“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”
He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.
Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.
Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.
“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”
“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”
His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.
“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”
“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.
“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”
“Always, Marcus.”
He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.
Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.
“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”
He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.
“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”
“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.
It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.
“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”
“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“What do you want?”
“Make me come?”
You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.
It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.
“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”
You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.
You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.
“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”
He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”
“Please, Marcus, please.”
Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.
He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.
You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.
You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.
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It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.
“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”
He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”
Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.
Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.
Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.
Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.
“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.
“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.
“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.
“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”
You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”
“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”
You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”
“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”
“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”
You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.
“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”
You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.
“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”
He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”
“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”
“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“What are you doing Wednesday night?”
“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”
“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”
Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”
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castiwls · 6 days
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dress - s.w
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Paring; sam x reader
Prompt; 'Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you'
Requested; anonymous
Notes;tysm for the request <3 they might be a bit slower over the next few weeks but they are coming :)
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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The sound of music thumped softly through the bar as the sound of laughter drifted through your ears. Your friends happily conversed between themselves as you continued to nurse your second drink of the night. It wasn’t often you found yourself in the company of so many of your friends at once but now that finals were over you’d all found yourselves finally free.
“You okay?” A hand squeezed yours under the table pulling your attention to the person beside you. You smiled squeezing Sam’s hand back. “I’m fine.” You leaned forward slightly lowering your voice. He smiled back before moving his hand to rub small circles on your thigh.
This thing between you both was new. You’d told yourself that you would wait until you’d finished college before you got involved with someone but all that had been thrown out the window the minute you’d met Sam. You’d both decided to keep quiet about your budding relationship though that was easier said than done. 
Finishing the last of his drink Sam stood from the table, his hand left your tigh and you frowned slightly at the lost warmth. “I'm gonna go grab another drink. Anyone else?” He paused for a moment and you watched in amusement as multiple hands shot in the air with various shouts of drinks accompanying them. “I’ll help.” You said standing from your seat.
Your friends quickly went back to their conversations as the two of you walked into the crowd. The moment you were far enough into the crowd you felt Sam’s hand wrap around yours as he pulled you towards a corner. “I thought we were going to the bar?” You laughed feeling your back hit the wall. Sam grinned moving his hands to your waist before leaning down. “We are, we're just making a small stop first.” 
You felt him press his lips to yours for a moment before he pulled back placing his forehead against yours. “We can’t be too long there gonna get suspicious.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke. A small shiver ran through you at the feel of his breath ghosting your lips.
“There occupied for a little longer at least.” He chuckled quietly throwing a glance over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ve not seen you alone all week, excuse me for wanting some time alone.” A small gasp of surprise left your lips as you felt him kiss you again. His hand moved to cup the back of your head as he moved almost impossibly closer, crowding into your space. 
After a moment you pulled back, small pants leaving your lips. “Okay. We need to actually go get the drinks now.” You grabbed his hand pulling him towards the bar. As you reached the bar he wrapped an arm over your shoulder pulling you into his side. 
A small thrill ran through you as he listed off the drinks, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your shoulder. You threw a small glance behind your shoulder a small smile growing on your lips at the sight of your friends still just as oblivious as they’d been before. 
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torusblindfold · 4 months
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i hate whoever is responsible for this
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