#5 minutes apart is a lifetime

[the-blossica-fan]

blossica sickfic..........

i imagine jessica's shape-shifting is harder to control while she's ill, and is a lot more clingy

and then blonney, well. pray they're not ill at the same time you can't move either of them away from the other lest you have a full on despairing play between the two crying for the other

addition: windsong gets so well treated by vila she pretends to still be ill (vila knows but still likes to care for her ^-^)

BLOSSICA SICK FIC AAAAAAAAAAA

(I love them I need everyone to know that)

I can imagine at first it was probably Blonney who got sick, she spent too long under the rain filming the scene and because of that she caught a cold.

Obviously Jessica was worried sick despite Tooth Fairy constantly telling her it was completely normal and she would heal in about three to four days if she followed instructions. Jessica thought she wouldn't get sick with any sickness that affected humans and stuck to Blonney's side 24/7, even kissing her even with the protests of the sick girl.

She got sick.

And oh Lord did that escalate quickly. Tooth Fairy walks into Blonney's room to see a little deer sobbing on Blonney's lao while she tries to hold her sneeze at the fur.

Trying to separate them was messy because Blonney would be complaining a lot and beg to see Jessica, and Jessica... She turns into whatever she can and sobs and cries and begs to see Blonney. They had to restrain her with the help of Shamane and Voyager and drag her to Blonney's room (once she realized she was literally jumping all the way)

It lasted for longer than they had planned, probably a week and a half but seeing them cuddling was pretty cute and they had lots of time for each other. No kissing though, that was the only condition Tooth Fairy set.

Watching them be separated while being sick was so painful, it was almost like some sort of drama or depressing movie because oh Lord did they look like they went through an entire Romeo & Juliet tragedy

Windsong definitely got sick from going to cold places in her i2 outfit, girl showed cleavage to every critter in there. Either way she got sick and Vila took care of her for Tooth Fairy, my God did Windsong see a piece of heaven.

Now every chance she can and she knows that it won't get any repercussions, she acts sick to Vila and gets pampered in return. It started to affect the kids too so Windsong has to (reluctantly) stop doing it regularly.

[cuteandhughesy]

Crawling Back To You | Matthew Knies

summary: the 5 stages of realizing you're falling in love with your boyfriend’s best friend (college!au).

[word count] 19.9k (…whoops)

warnings: MATURE! enemies to lovers | the slowest of slow burns. like seriously buckle up | emotional cheating? kinda not really? | thoughts of infidelity | drinking | intense make out scene | kind of a unfinished ending (sorry in advance) | suggestive scenes and dialogue | read at your own discretion

a/n: this idea randomly popped into my head before bed a few weeks ago and I immediately knew I had to write it. this is for the knies girlies (like yours truly) who can’t help themselves but fantasizing about him—I see you and I got you.

🎵 do I wanna know? by arctic monkeys

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Prologue

lucas' arm around your hips is a firm pressure, guiding you through the crowded frat house like he's done many times before. you let him easily, smiling at friends as you pass by them.

your boyfriend doesn't really notice anybody else—too busy looking for his friends in the chaotic crowd. his fingers flex around the dip of your hip, squeezing you reassuringly. "you look nice babe."

he's told you that already tonight—when you'd showed up to his door so you could walk to the frat party together—which, is only down the hall from your door—regardless though, it's nice to hear. you tilt you head back to look at him, eyes lingering over his too-sharp jaw and icy gaze. "thanks lucas."

he hums softly, not looking at you as he continues to make way through the sea of sweat covered bodies. you sigh gently, gnawing on your gloss coated bottom lip, gaze flickering away from your boyfriend.

you and lucas have been dating for almost half a year—which in hindsight isn't that long, but when you're in university and spending every waking minute with a person, it soon feels like a lifetime. you met him in the mailroom of your shared apartment complex during the beginning of last term, and hit it off almost immediately.

lucas was flirty, and so sweet that it felt like your teeth were decaying. he was smart and played on the universities hockey team—it was hard not to fall for him. but as your brief honeymoon phase came to a close, lucas started to get a little...dull.

he doesn't make your heart race, and he doesn't  have your stomach swooping with his stare or touch, and most of the time it feels like he doesn't have the time for you. but it's fine, because he's your boyfriend, and you care for him. it's just a bit...boring, and unfulfilling.

"babe." he starts again, glancing down at you. "were you able to book off that shift? the one during next game day?"

you frown, stopping in your shuffling steps. "lucas, I already told you that I couldn't."

your boyfriend stops as well, turning towards you with deeply furrowed eyebrows. "you did?"

you sigh, a bubble of irritation rising in your chest. "yes. this morning before class."

"seriously?" he all but huffs, dropping his hands from your waist. "I wanted you there."

"and like I told you this morning, there's nothing I can do about it." you've flushed with annoyance, looking at your boyfriend with a perplexed expression. it feels like you've been going in circles about this damn shift for days—and somehow everytime, lucas makes you feel like an asshole about it. you literally work at the arena, and as only 1 of 3 staff members for the concession stand, getting your shift covered was practically impossible.

his eyes flash with something similar to annoyance. "it feels like you don't even want to watch me play, y/n."

your eyes quickly dart around the room, gulping gently as you make sure nobody is watching the exchange between you and lucas—one that feels like it's on the tipping point of turning heated. your gaze flickers back to his, crossing your arms defensively. "are you seriously going to start this here? in front of everyone?"

despite your words, nobody is paying attention to the two of you—too drunk or high or both to have the awareness they needed to realize what's going on between you and the hockey teams assistant captain.

lucas sighs gently, eyes softening as he takes in your closed off, hard expression. "look," lucas grabs the sides of your face, holding you in place. "i'm sorry, okay?" your eyes drop, mind still reeling with annoyance about the whole situation. lucas thumb runs along your cheek, "we can talk about it later."

there's nothing to talk about, you think. i've already told you.

he leans in, searching for a kiss, but you turn your head just before your lips connect—lucas planting an unexpected peck to your cheek.

from a room over, matthew knies takes a sip of his beer, a smile pulling at his lips as his teammate loudly tells the group about his latest tinder date adventure—new flash, it went horrible. his teammate, gabe, wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to date, and after hearing all these different stories about how his dates went, matthew can't help but feel sorry for these girls.

sean, another member of the minnesota hockey team, nudges his elbow into matthew's side, subtly pulling his attention away from gabe and his loud mouth and comical expression—currently acting out how he'd opened the car door during said tinder date.

matthew's brows raise, looking at the tan complexion of his friend. "what's up?"

"looks like there's some trouble in paradise, huh?" sean then shifts his eyes out of the room, down into the even more crowded foyer and kitchen. matthew's eyes can't help but follow, landing upon his roommate, and another teammate of his, lucas.

but he's not alone—you're with him. matthew swallows roughly, eyes narrowing at the sight of you. he watches as lucas grabs your face, stroking the highest part of your cheek with his calloused thumb. there's a few rushed words exchanged between you, ones that matthew has no chance of hearing over the bustling party.

sean continues, rubbing his hand over his stubble. "what do you think they're fighting about?"

matthew watches as you dodge his friends kiss, your expression full of exhaustion and annoyance. he looks away from you, eyes finding sean's deep chocolate ones  "probably something lucas started."

sean snorts. "probably—dude doesn't know what he's got."

matthew hums dismissively, taking an aggressive sip from his beer bottle. the tangy liquid fizzles against his tastebuds, the alcohol already making him feel lighter. he can't help the way his eyes find you again, watching the tail end of whatever argument you'd been in the midst of.

lucas pulls off you, a tiny roll of his eyes. but he wraps his arm around you again, pulling you further into the house and in the direction of the living room.

at the sight of lucas, a few of the guys get distracted, attention pulled from gabe and his ridiculous performance—all of them hollering in the blondes direction. the smile comes easy, and he releases you in favour of greeting everyone, bringing them into a side hug before slapping the muscle on their back.

you do your best to plaster on a smile as a couple of the guys girlfriends greet you warmly—madison, you closest WAG friend squeezes your arm from the couch beside you. you briefly wonder if she's seen the tiff you've just had with lucas.

but no, you can't think like that, if you do it'll just make you more anxious than usual. you gently shake your head, snapping yourself out of your own pity. you stand awkwardly beside the couch while lucas completely disappears into his friends, cheering and laughing as they all talk about their latest win. you blink again, this time to hold back unshed tears.

"hey girl, you wanna sit down?" another one of the wags asks you, her gentle, honey laced voice filtering through the noisy room. "you look a little out of it."

you laugh gently, blinking rapidly. "I don't think there's anywhere to sit." your words stem from truth, and as you glance around the collection of mangled, worn leather couches and stained lazy boys, the space is limited. you desperately wish lucas was a doting boyfriend—pulling you into his lap and pressing a reassuring kiss against the junction of your neck.

"you can sit here." his voice cuts through the air like a knife, sending a usual shiver through your body. you hadn't even realized matthew knies was here—but you should've suspected it when you didn't hear his usual rerun of new girl in his and lucas' shared apartment.

your eyes flicker to his, and then towards the sliver of space between him and sean. the couch is most definitely sticky, and the foam is practically spilling out the cushion—the sight has you squirming. parties have never been your thing, and you've never been one to be overly social—much preferring the silence and comfortability of your own space. if you were to go out on your own terms, you'd often opt for local bars or eateries, which usually provide a more relaxed and tone downed party atmosphere.

but lucas likes frats—so here you are. your eyes find matthew's again, and immediately you're feeling a familiar pull in your chest—one that always seems to tug in the presence of your boyfriends best friend. it's not that you hated matthew knies...it's just....he is one of your least favourite people to be around.

you're not sure when it started, but the combination of his cocky attitude and the way he seemed to always be pushing your buttons with that stupid smirk on his face, just has your blood boiling.

and you really try your best to ignore him, but as soon as his pestering starts, you just can't help but bite back.

he's looking at you with that slinky pull to his plump lips, likes he's expecting you to decline his offer and just turn tail and leave—which you are desperately trying not to do.

matthew's one eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. "you scared or somethin', y/l/n?" he takes a slow sip of his beer, adam's apple bobbing roughly under his clean shaven throat. he licks his lips, catching the lingering liquid. "I dont bite."

the use of your last name—how it so easily slips through his lips like a song—has you biting down, your teeth practically cracking under the intense pressure. all your earlier irritation has been quickly redirected to matthew, and you eye him pointedly. "doubtful."

his smirk widens.

you shoot a glance towards lucas, but to your disappointment he still hasn't realized you're standing alone—sitting comfortably between teammates and sipping from a mysterious seltzer can. slowly, you look back towards matthew, who's grin has yet to falter.

he pats the space between himself and sean, two slaps against the leather as he wordlessly invites you over.

you can't help the way your eyes roll.

sean watches the entire ordeal like a damn soap-opera, eyes darting between you and his friend next to him—hiding his amused smile behind the neck of his beer bottle.

with a gentle sigh, you make your way towards them, wordlessly taking a seat between the two athletes with an awkward cough. immediately you're warm, the combination of the crowded house and being squished between two large men sending you into a heat flash.

although, matthew may be more of a boy than a man, but you digress.

"want a drink?" he asks you—the smirk evident simply in his tone. your eyes dart to the side, finding his flushed face.

"of what?" you question sharply.

his brows raise in amusement. "anything you want." matthew laughs once, a breathy sound that has you squinting. "there's lots of options—this is a party, y/l/n."

there's that nickname again—the condescending tone dripping from his tongue as he calls you by your last name. you grit your teeth, "that's not my name."

"I mean...It is." his eyes flicker with something you don't recognize, lip twitching as his smile widens. "you're always so wound up."

you stiffen, and you can hear sean hiss quietly beside you. matthew's looking as smug as ever, fiddling with the damp, shredded label of his drink. you let out a scoff, "no i'm not—you're just annoying."

"sure." he nods condescendingly just as he lifts the neck of his bottle back towards his mouth, plump lips expertly caressing the opening and tipping the liquid into his mouth.

you watch him move—your bubbling annoyance clear. you watch behind the rim of the bottle as his smirk returns, and that has you blinking, quickly averting your gaze. "don't you have other people to bother?"

you hear his beer hit the table as he places it down, clearly done with it. "am I bothering you?" matthew chooses to avoid your question, like usual, which has you rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time.

"I personally find this really entertaining." sean interrupts, leaning closer towards you. a half smile takes over his dark complexion, and he gets further into your space, wide, amused eyes dancing between his teammate and you. "you guys fight like you're a married couple."

you head snaps his his direction so fast you neck muscles tighten up. "what does that mean?"

matthew snickers, which immediately has you attention again. "seriously, have a drink or something — you fucking need one."

"excuse me?" your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you're too far gone to care. you're really not in the mood to deal with your boyfriends best friends cocky personality, or his infuriating mannerisms and ridiculous smirk. "literally what makes you think you can say things like that to me? god, what's crawled up your ass."

"alright, alright," he interrupts, one of his large hands raised in a mock surrender. "just chill out, I'm not trying to ruin your night."

without knowing what else to say in that moment, you look away—eyes pinched and lips held together tightly. you grab sean's half full can of cherry liquor—right out of his loose grip—and down the rest of it.

he makes a noise of protest, but you don't even care. the alcohol already has you feeling better, the affects settling deep in your belly and further warming your exposed skin—you've always been a light weight. you cringe at the flavour, letting the last sip linger on your tastebuds before fully swallowing.

"fuckin jesus, y/n." sean grumbles like he's annoyed, but his eyes tell a different story. "that rilled up huh?"

you turn your back towards matthew, facing sean and his girlfriend completely. the latter is talking intently with another one of the girls—completely oblivious to the tension brewing next her.

matthew's eyes linger on your exposed back, your cream silky top dipping low enough to expose the base of your spine. he tongues his cheek to mask the grin, slowly trailing his eyes back upwards. "you're such a baby." he says knowingly, leaning in close enough that his words tickle your neck. "turnin' your back to me."

without looking at him, you huff. "you're so insufferable." you break composure, turning back in his direction. your irritated expression is still lingering, looking at matthew like you're trying to incinerate him with your eyes. "you suddenly care about me or something?"

"you wish." his response is quick—teasing.

sean snorts, clearly enjoying this much more than you could ever.

"do you seriously think you have that much of an impact on my life?"

"I know I do." matthew laughs. "you're really cranky today."

"and you need to shut the fuck up-"

"alright, you two." sean speaks again, looking almost scared as he eyes the both of you curiously. "better stop before people start getting the wrong idea."

you don't even have the brain capacity to think about what he could mean with that insinuation. you shoot off the couch, "i'm done here anyway." you mumble hastily, immediately making your way across the small living room. you weave your way through the few people standing in the middle of the space, lingering and chatting too enthusiastically for your liking.

the other couch comes into view quickly, and you spot lucas just as fast. your arms are crossed as you walk up to your boyfriend, lips already pulling in a irritated pout. the silk of your top suddenly feels too cold—too exposing—and you just want to go.

"lucas." you get his attention, "I'm going home."

his attention is pulled away from his teammates, eyes flickering over your figure once. "you okay?"

"ask your roommate." you spit. "he's fucking infuriating."

lucas grin, rolling his eyes. "you are so dramatic, babe. just come sit with me."

a couple of his teammates snicker at his words, attempting to cover their amused smirks behind their drinks—but you catch them.

"i'm not dramatic." you start, exasperated. "and no, I'm going home."

he runs a hand over his face. "kay, i'll see you later."

"whatever." you grumble, turning away from your boyfriend. you make your way back through the sticky frat house, narrowly missing the beer spilling over solo cups as drunk university students slosh around, smashing drinks together in cheers.

the early spring chill sends you into a shivering state almost instantly—the night cold stinging your skin harshly. it's only when the noise and echoing bass fade into a dull hum that you start to cry, sluggishly walking down the sidewalk as you continue the short walk to your apartment complex.

thoughts of matthew's snarky remarks and stupid smirk are plaguing your mind—sending you into a flurry of anger and vexation. replaying the interaction in your head has you scoffing out loud, muttering irritatedly like a clinically insane person.

and then there's lucas and his rude dismissal of you—his girlfriend for fucks sake. that and the way his teammates snickered at the brief moment of bickering between you just has you spiraling even deeper.

you close your apartment door louder than you intended, kicking off your shoes quickly.

your roommate, cora, looks up from her spot on the kitchen barstool, slowly slurping her mouthful of cheap ramen noodles with her brows raised in concern. "how was the party?"

all you can muster is a growl, opening to cupboard above the sink in search of a glass. your grab the first one you see, immediately filling it up with absurd flavoured tap water.

she snorts into her bowl, shoving some more noodles into her mouth. "what happened?" she questions between her chews.

you finish the water with a loud gulp, placing the empty glassware on the counter. "matthew happened."

his name alone makes cora roll her eyes, but there's a tiny grin that she can't even hide. your roommate is well used to the hostility that lingers between you and your down the hall neighbour. "just ignore him."

it's something that's been said by cora hundreds of times—it seems that anytime you're with lucas, you're coming back with a scowl and a new story about his roommate instead. "you know he only messes with you because you give him a good reaction."

you huff, stealing the fork out of cora's bowl and serving yourself a bite of her beef favoured noodles. they're not long made, and the heat slightly burns your tongue. you hiss through your teeth, "he's hard to ignore when he's up my ass whispering in my ear about how i'm 'such a baby'" you attempt at lowering you voice to mimick the athletes, and that has her grinning, taking back her fork for another bite.

"you two are so weird." she slurps a noddle noisily, "like there's some weird sexual tension or something."

"cora!" you huff, eyes comically wide as you look at her with nothing short of perplexity.

"what?" she laughs, all but innocent. "he's hot!"

"I have a boyfriend." snatching the utensil again, you twirl the prongs through the lingering food. your face begins to heat up, something that feels like embarrassment crawling at your chest. you clear your throat, praying that cora doesn't catch your burning cheeks as you chew some more food. "besides, even If I was single i'd never date someone so...arrogant."

"whatever you say." cora teases further, tucking herself further under her extra large hoodie. you know your friend is only playing around, and there's no malicious intent with her digs—so you let it slide, even though the mere thought of dating matthew knies has your stomach dropping, making you feel nothing less than nauseous. 

"I need to take these jeans off before I explode." you whine, quickly changing the subject. you already start unbuttoning the denim as you make your way down the hall, rounding into your warmly lit bedroom in search of your favourite pyjamas.

you soon swap your party, beer smelling attire for an oversized, stained hoodie and sleep shorts—throwing your hair back and popping your glasses on. already, you're feeling much more relaxed than when you first got home. "wanna watch an episode of stranger things?" you call through the apartment, already grabbing your throw blanket.

"yeah!" cora calls back, "can you bring me the niall horan blanket from your room?"

you snort a laugh, doubling back to your bed and pulling the fuzzy, 2011 one direction throw into your arms. it's been a staple piece ever since you met cora in your freshman dorm, and you learned your new roommate from wisconsin was just as obsessed with the former boyband as you are.

you make your way back into the living area of the small student apartment, your slippers slapping the floor obnoxiously as you do. "can you grab me a coke?" you ask cora as you pass the kitchen nook.

two knocks interrupt you, the sound echoing through the wooden door that separates your apartment from the hall. you jump slightly, the unexpecting thumping catching you off guard and making your heart leap.

cora eyes the clock—almost 1 a.m. her gaze skips back to you, frozen in place with the fridge wide open. "are you expecting anyone?"

"no." you swallow, making you way to the door. "are you?"

she almost snorts. "definitely not."

skeptical, but curious, you grasp the chipping bronze handle. you're hoping it's lucas—lucas who has hopefully come to his senses and has left the party in favour of giving you an apology. with a gentle shrug, you turn the handle and pull the door open in one swift motion.

matthew is there, leaning against the door frame in all his smug, infuriating glory. at the sight of you opening the door, a small smirk grows on his face, and in that moment you think the universe must be against you—because what the actual fuck.

"hey." he says simply, his stupid smirk growing impossibly wide. "glad to see you're not dead in a ditch." your brows begin to furrow, and he continues — much to your dismay. "saw you leave the party all stompy."

you're almost speechless, at a loss for words as you blink up at him. "it's almost 1."

"very good." he snickers, like he's congratulating you for knowing the time. you want to punch him in the mouth and get rid of that insufferable grin.

"can I like, help you or something?" you question roughly, crossing your arms over your hoodie. it's a bit awkward considering the mountain of blankets in your arms, but you manage. "i'm kind of busy."

matthew peers behind you, looking into your very much empty apartment. he sees cora, still lingering in the kitchen—watching the exchange like it's a SNL skit with a tiny, amused smile on her face.

he meets your hard eyes one again. "I don't think you are, actually." he licks his bottom lip slowly, an action that seems instinctual. "are you going to be neighborly and invite me in? or just keep standing and staring."

a scoff leaves your mouth, but before you can protest, cora speaks up, her cheery voice making your heart drop. "come on in, matthew—don't mind the mess." she kicks some loose shoes out of the way, subtly pushing you to the side as well.

matthew smirks at you again, stepping into the small foyer of your apartment. you tear your gaze away from the tall boy, sending your roommate a slightly panicked look.

she just shrugs, looking back at matthew quickly. "i'll let you two chat—i've gotta get the pillows..and...stuff, from my room."

pillows and stuff? her excuse is just sad, but before you can stop her, cora is turning on her heels, practically skipping down the hall and into her messy bedroom.

now alone, you look back at your boyfriend's friend with raised brows. "so? what is it?"

something flickers across his face, and before you can register it, he sighs. "listen, i've come to say i'm sorry for tonight. I was an asshole."

"an asshole is one way of putting it." you scoff, arms crossing tighter. you pause, eyeing his seemingly sincere expression. with a sigh, you falter slightly, "but thanks."

his smirk is back. "welcome." the formality is mumbled through his plump lips, and you swallow roughly at the lazy grin.

"anything else?" you hum pointedly.

matthew shakes his head. "nope." he reaches behind his broad back, grabbing the doorknob and turning it. "i'll be seeing you around i'm sure."

you watch as he opens the door, the fluorescent lights of the hallway illuminating your dim apartment. you kiss your teeth, a reluctant nod following suit. "oh, i'm sure."

he snickers. "goodnight, y/l/n."

your face falls—a bubble of irritation quickly rising once again. you don't say anything, watching through the corner of your eyes as matthew walks down the hall to his and lucas' shared apartment.

he shoves the key in the lock, and just before he walks inside, matthew shoots you one more stupid smirk that sends your head reeling.

you click your apartment door shut, and as soon as it does, your forehead hits the flat surface, an angry groan leaving your chest.

STAGE 1: Confusion

"can I get three tequila sunrises, please?"

the burly bartender behind the counter sends you a curt nod, turning on his heels as he grabs three empty glasses to begin making your drinks.

the bar is crowded, more crowded than your usual visits, but it is a saturday night and this is the closest place to drink from campus—so it’s business doesn’t come as a shock. you look around the room, eyeing the sea of students and young adults alike—all smiling and dancing together as they down shots and sip their respective drinks.

your eyes find your small table, seeing cora chat happily with your mutual friend, rachel. you'd all been in a deep conversation about your psychology midterm results when you'd slurped up the last bit of your drink—cora already fiddling with the ice cubes at the bottom of her glass.

with a pout from rachel and a plea from your roommate, you slid off the high stool and begin sneaking your way through the bar. you sigh gently, turning your attention back to the busy bar, watching as the bartender works around his co-workers in their hectic environment.

"hey." his voice has you stiffening. slowly, your gaze flickers to your right and that's where you see matthew, leaning against the sticky bar top in his usual stupid way.

you frown, glancing over your opposite shoulder to see if he's talking to somebody that's not you—maybe a teammate or your boyfriend who has magically decided to show up tonight.

matthew snickers. "yeah. i'm talking to you."

you look back at him sharply. "why?"

he shrugs, his index finger tracing one of the raised splits on the wooden bar top. "just saying hi to a friend."

"a friend?" you question, one breathy laugh passing through your stained lips. your gaze turns pointed, looking at matthew with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "we're not friends."

"no?" he hums lightly.

you shake your head once, firmly. "I think you're forgetting how you know me."

"we live in the same apartment complex." his smile has returned at full strength, sending your chest contorting in a way that makes you angry. he's trying to rile you up, you know that by now, and even if you didn't, that grin on his stupid chiseled face gives him away—he's up to no good.

you make a face of faux innocent, mouth falling open to form a small, perfected 'o'. "oh, so that's how you know me?" your face falls, and you grab your wallet off the bar top. your hands are slightly shaky, and definitely clammy due to the adrenaline and irritation running through your veins—it's all so infuriating.

you turn to leave, but matthew's hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you. your head snaps back so fast that for a moment your vision blurs—and you have to blink quickly to clear it.

"c'mon, y/l/n, i'm trying to play nice." his grin falters slightly, looking down at you with a gentle expression.

it makes you even angrier. "well, I don't want you to play nice."

matthew squints playfully, leaning further down into your space. "kinky."

your eyes widen to unfathomable size, and your skin flushes all over. it's exactly the reaction matthew wanted to pull from you, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he watches your face further contort into an expression of disbelief and frustration.

you take a few shaky, shallow breathes, trying your best to not yank your hand away and high tail out of the bar completely. "I have a boyfriend." despite the firm town of your voice, your words are quiet, only for the two of you to hear.

matthew's brows shoot up. "okay, I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I know you have a boyfriend—I live with him. i'm just being a dick."

you can't help the way your eyes roll. no shit. it's like matthew finally realizes the gentle grip he's still got around your wrist, and he drops your arm rather quickly upon realization. matthew brings his hand back to his side, fingers flexing as he tries to shake off the unknowing sensation. he clears his throat, eyes not leaving yours as he continues. "speaking of, where is lucas? thought you'd be up his ass tonight."

you hesitantly tuck your wallet under your arm, holding it to your side. after all, you're still waiting for drinks, and you're not going to let matthew drive you out of the bar before you can deliver them. "like you said," you huff, "you live with him, so you should've noticed he was home tonight."

matthew's lips drop in a small frown at your words, because no, he doesn't remember seeing lucas after they passed each other on the way to the bathroom that morning.

the tattooed arm of the bartender comes back into your peripheral vision, and he slides theee glasses in your direction. "here's your drinks."

you quickly menover your black wallet back into your hands, pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to the rather attractive tender. "thanks." he nods, tucking the money into his waist apron before turning away, attending to one of the many awaiting customers.

you look back towards the athlete at your side, who still hasn't taken his gaze off of you, and send him a sarcastic smirk. "wish I could say it was nice seeing you matthew, but i've never been a liar." you grab two of the glasses, frowning gently as you realize you can't quite grip the third. you place them down, attempting another time.

"oh wow good one, y/l/n." matthew laughs breathily, watching as you continue to struggle with three, condensation coated glasses. "are you going to ask for help now?"

you snort, "i'd rather eat glass than ask for your help."

you look like a lost puppy—one of the glasses pressed between your arm and boob, and the other one clutched awkwardly in your hand. your fingers barley reach around it, and it looks like a disaster waiting to happen.

"jesus christ, just—" matthew mumbles, reaching towards you and taking both glasses from you. and because he's annoying and has the hands of a giant, he scoops the third glass off the bar, holding the three together.

he looks at you triumphantly, which makes you want to kick him. "must you be so proud?"

"I must." he chimes. matthew finally looks away from you, which has you letting out a breath you hadn't realized you've been harbouring. his eyes filter through the crowd, brows pinched together. "where's your table?"

on cue, cora's distinctive laughter fills the room. "never mind I can hear your roommate." he begins walking in the direction of the table, maneuvering through the room like he owns it—which induces an annoyed eye roll from you. watching the crowd practically part as they see him coming through is even more infuriating.

you follow behind him, trying your best to keep up with his long strides. "her mouth is almost as loud as yours!" you smile with faux enjoyment, looking up at his side.

you merely miss getting bumped by some hammered frat guy, too busy yelling and terribly singing along to the shitty (but addictive) pop music. you miss the glare matthew sends the strangers way before he looks down at you, a smirk on his face. "seems like a match made in heaven then."

"or hell." you hum.

he laughs tauntingly. "don't be jealous."

"why would I be jealous?"

"took you long enough!" cora shouts, teetering on hammered—she's been pregaming since 5.

you watch rachel's eyes trail to your side, and immediately she's lighting up. "oh and you've brought a friend."

"not a friend—just a nuisance."

matthew laughs, too loudly for your liking, brushing past you to step onto the platform where your friends sit. "think that's the nicest thing you've said about me, y/l/n."

if your eyes roll one more time tonight they're surely to get stuck. "don't you have something else to do, knies?"

cora takes the glass from matthew's large hand, batting her lashes up at him like a damn cartoon character. she immediately takes the straw into her mouth, chewing on the plastic. "thank you matthew."

he turns back to you with a smug expression. "see, y/l/n, that's how you're supposed to respond when someone does something nice for you."

"oh well— I can't wait for the day you do something nice for me!" you clap your hands together like an exaggerated cheer, stepping up the the platform as well. you almost bump into his chest, underestimating just how close matthew was.

he just smirks, eyes slowly flickering down your body.

you swallow. "okay, you can go now."

"anything else?" matthew questions, brows raised expectantly.

"what?" you breathe through your teeth.

his smirk grows. "i'm waiting for a thank you."

you exhale through your nose, eyes briefly flickering closed for a passing moment. when they re-open, matthew doesn't falter, if anything he looks even more cheerful. "thanks." you grit out.

"you're so welcome." he shoots you a quick wink, waving goodbye to your friends before he steps off the platform, making his way back to whichever group of loud cronies he'd been with before he started pestering you.

"you two are so ridiculous." rachel laughs into her glass before taking a hearty sip—her eyes not once leaving you.

you whine, taking your original seat next to cora. "i'm one more interaction away from transferring schools."

cora groans loudly. "oh my god."

the conversation thankfully shifts after your dramatic remark, and the rest of the night seemingly goes by in a flash. you actually end up dancing for most of the evening, sandwiched between cora and rachel as you all scream song lyrics and laugh with one another. it's nice and refreshing—thankfully taking your mind of him.

you end up feeling more tired than you expected soon after, the combination of drinking, dancing and being at school since 10 that morning is taking its toll on you. "i'm gunna head out." you tell cora, leaning in close so she can hear you over the bassy one direction throwback.

"what?" she pouts, her hazy eyes wide. "I don't want you to go!"

you laugh gently, accepting the hug as she throws herself at you—stumbling over her own two feet in the process. "i'm tired." you admit. "do you and rachel wanna come with me?"

"no! the night is still young." cora looks at you like you're crazy for even suggesting that.

"okay party animals." you bid another goodbye to both of your friends, ordering and uber for yourself before stepping outside. you're hoping the chilled air will sober you up a little bit—because the last thing you need is to fall asleep in an uber, or worse, get sick.

you sigh gently, swaying on your feet as you stand outside the bustling bar. strangers and traffic are steady, providing a surprisingly comforting atmosphere.

the door creaks open behind you, the inside chaos growing louder for a split second until the threshold is closed once more. instinctively, you glance over your shoulder, and the sight has you groaning. the universe must be praying on your downfall, because there he is. "seriously? are you stalking me or something?"

matthew's brows raise, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as he walks towards you. "that doesn't even make sense—you've already seen me tonight…”

his words have you scoffing, and you turn your head away from him as you grumble frustratedly. "fucking...whatever."

he doesn't respond immediately, and the night life is the only sounds heard. ever impatiently, you check the uber app again, praying your ride is almost here—but they're still 5 minutes out.

"where are your friends?" matthew's voice interrupts your peace.

"why?" you question with hesitance, your glare pointed as you look towards him.

he laughs briefly, although it sounds more like a scoff. "god, you're so tightly wound! i'm just trying to make conversation."

you're taken aback for a moment, blinking quickly as you take in his words. with a quiet, irritated sigh, you look away from him once again. "you really don't need to."

you peer down the road, praying you see the uber that somehow has magically sped through time. matthew scoffs again. "why don't you like me?"

"besides the obvious?" you question condescendingly, eyes not leaving the road in front of you.

"sure, besides the obvious."

you spin on your heels, which in hindsight isn't the smartest decision because your stumbling dangerously. matthew's eyes widen in concern for a moment, but you catch yourself before he has the chance to reach out. you eye his flexing hands with anger, a grumble leaving your stained lips. "you're just, ugh! insufferable."

his brows raise. "i'm insufferable?"

you nod. "yes."

"really?"

"yes, matthew! god this, what you're doing right now is quite literally the definition of insufferable. like, if you looked up the definition a video of this interaction would play." you breathe roughly, gesturing between the two of you like a crazy person. at some point during your rant, you'd stepped closer to him—close enough that you have to tilt your head back to properly look at him.

matthew's lips slowly contorts into a smirk, one that sends your blood boiling. "you're such a nerd ."

you laugh in disbelief. "que the insults!"

his eyes change then, his smirk dissolving as a more serious and intense expression takes over his face. matthew licks onto his bottom lip, gaze pointed. "it's wasn't an insult."

your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you watch him…watch you. before you can say anything—do anything—the sound of tires screeching to the curb has you pulling away.

the passenger window rolls down, and a middle aged man come into sight. "uber for y/n?"

"yeah, that's me." you say quickly, walking away from matthew as fast as your feet allow you, and practically jumping into the running car, as soon as the seatbelt is clicked into place, the uber is moving, sending you falling back against the seat.

you watch through the window as matthew looks at the retreating car—not talking his eyes off the vehicle until you're nothing but a set of break lights in the distance. you swallow roughly, blinking away the flurry of emotions pulling and pushing at your chest.

STAGE 2: Shifting

almost a week has passed since your...interesting? annoying? pointless? conversation with matthew outside the bar, and you thankfully haven't seen him since.

which is surprising considering you've been at his apartment almost every night with lucas. as much as you hate to admit it, and as much as it makes you angry, you were curious about his whereabouts. anytime you'd been cuddling with lucas on the couch, watching some shitty show he liked—your mind would wander, and anytime there'd be any noise in the hall, you'd wonder if it was him.

where was he? what's was he doing? is he avoiding you? but no, because matthew loves pissing you off too much to just avoid you...right?

you curse yourself everytime matthew pops into your mind, quickly distracting yourself with whatever task you could get your hands on. like right now, ruffling through the snack display on top of the counter at work.

the arena is extra cold today, and as your arms touch the metal basket containing the various chips and crackers, you shiver—not even the team branded zip up around your torso is helping.

"y/n," the floor manager, jason pops into the booth. "we need some more pineapple. can you get some from the players kitchen please? just the frozen stuff for smoothies." his voice is hopeful, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

you sigh gently, kissing your teeth as you turn to look at him. "sure."

he smiles in your direction, but just before he leaves, jason doubles back. "oh! and a few protein bars, i'm starving."

"sure." you nod curtly.

"and while you're there, grab me a green juice?" this time at least jason manages to look somewhat guilty, his grin almost doubtful.

you almost find it amusing, and you raise your brows as so. "why not."

jason cheers. "you're the best."

with that you make your way out of the room, not fully shutting the door behind yourself as you know your arms will be too full to use a handle when you come back. the walk to the players section of the facility isn't a long one, and it's only a few minutes until you're entering the 'smoothie room' — as you like to call it.

it's always in pristine condition, and you almost feel guilty for simply breathing in there. quickly, you grab everything you need from the room, including the bag you'd filled with frozen pineapple and some nasty smelling green drink for jason.

with your arms full, you leave the room and begin making your way back to the snack bar. you round the corner into the most open part of the corridor, expect this time it's not empty, and around 10 of the guys have started kicking the ball around—a pre-game warmup that a lot of them liked to participate in.

you plan to just sneak through, keep your head down and try to not too badly interrupt the ritual—for lack of a better word. timidly, you begin making your way towards the rowdy group, eyes focused as their voices get closer and closer.

the sound of the soccer ball smacking against the wall has you freezing, and before you know it the inflated ball is soaring towards you. you don’t have a chance to react, and it hits you right in the chest, sending everything you'd been previously holding scattering to the floor.

embarrassed and irritated, you sigh, crouching down as you begin to attempt and salvage the mess at your feet. an all too familiar pair of running shoes appear in your vision, coming to a squeaky stop as they approach. "damn, you alright?"

you look up, squinting from the glow of the fluorescent lights lining the corridors. like you thought, it's matthew. his expression almost resembles one of concern, which has you pulling a disgruntled face.

he's slightly breathless, running around and kicking a soccer ball at you must be the cause. he's alive, you think reluctantly.

you look away from him, grabbing the two bottles of green juice and tucking them under your arm. thankfully, neither plastic bottle cracked when they hit the tile.

he sighs roughly, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes. matthew slowly bends down as well, grabbing the astray protein bars from the ground. "good talk." he mutters condescendingly.

your eyes dart up, a scoff tumbling past your lips. the audacity of matthew to be annoyed with you is just beyond comprehension. "sorry i'm not in the mood for small talk with you matthew after you just kicked the ball at my chest—i'm going to have to throw this fruit out now, thanks."

the pineapple is a wet, spilled mess across the floor. the bag had split when it dropped, and the ball has smooshed the fruit as it fell with it. you're not even sure what to do about the mess—looking at it hopelessly.

"I didn't kick anything at you, but sure it's my fault." he grumbles, looking at you once again.

"really? then who did?" you tone is dripping with doubt, looking at matthew with nothing but exasperation.

"ask your perfect little boyfriend." matthew immediately looks like he regrets his words, eyes widening momentarily before his gaze darts away from your face.

"my perfect little boyfriend who's also your friend?" you scoff.  "god, touch some grass matthew." you know it's a terrible rebuke, and the way matthew smirks in disbelief following your insult has you feeling even more irritated with your choice of comeback.

you don't dwell on it much longer as the sound of somebody else approaching you both captures your attention. you look up just as lucas joins you, standing behind matthew with a tiny grin. "hey! babe you okay?"

you stand up, clutching the drinks to your chest. "fine." you nod.

lucas smiles again, moving to wrap you in a hug. it’s awkward, with your arms pushed against your chest and the green juice pressing into your boob uncomfortably. he kisses your head quickly. "sorry, we were all just messing around and I didn't see you."

your face falls, and you pull back from your boyfriend. "it was you?"

"yeah." he repeats, looking anything but guilty. "said I was sorry."

you unwrap yourself from his hug, stepping back. the whole conversation with your boyfriend has rubbed you the wrong way, and even if he didn't mean to kick you with the ball, his apology wasn't enough of a sincere gesture as you would expect from someone who supposedly loves you.

"I gotta get back." you say quietly, eyes downcast as you further back away from your boyfriend. instinctively, your eyes flicker towards matthew's tall stature. you both hold eye contact for a moment, unknown words lingering in the air between you.

you blink, picking up pace as you walk through the hall.

jason beams as he spots the pile of protein bars in your hands, taking two along with his green juice before skipping out the room. trying to shake off the weird feeling from the interaction with matthew in the corridor, you get back to work, organizing the fridge in preparation for tonight's game—you know how much the minnesota students love their alanis, and you need to make sure that fridge is fully stalked.

there's a good 5 minutes of silence, nothing but you, your thoughts and the loading of the fridge—until there's a knock at the open door.

you look over you shoulder, and there matthew is again. you don't know what to say because you don't know why he's here or what he wants. is he here to gloat? to apologize? to taunt?

matthew takes your silence as an invitation, stepping into the snack booth with a neutral expression. he's still dressed in his sports clothes—a team branded sweatshirt with matching shorts overtop compression pants, completed with his backward basball cap. it oddly suits him, and your stomach drops at the realization of what you've just done.

you kinda sorta checked him out.

"here." matthew interrupts your thoughts, clearly unaware of your wandering eyes and the inner turmoil happening in your brain. he walks further into the room, and that's when you see it—a bag of pineapple clutched in his hand.

in your rush to leave the corridor, you'd completely forgotten to run back and get more fruit.

"where do you want me to put it?" he questions.

"uh," you hum lightly, eyes moving around the room for some available space. it's kind of a mess in here, and you really need to get your shit together before you open. "just beside the coffee machine for now."

matthew does what you ask, putting the frozen ziploc beside the kureig on the side counter. he doesn't say anything else, and walks out the room without so much a second glance in your direction.

you bite your inner lip, knawing the soft skin as you blink furiously— trying to collect your whirlwind of thoughts. above all, you're angry. angry that you were hit with a ball, angry that matthew was right about who kicked it, angry that lucas gave you a shit apology, and that matthew didn't even attempt to annoy you when he'd brought you the pineapple.

—

lucas presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, pulling you into his chest on the outskirts of the lit up courtyard. around you is busy, lingering students and staff members alike chat and walk through the space with an upbeat pace.

every year since you've been attending the university of minnesota, the hockey team and staff members would host a barbecue and movie night in the schools courtyard. it was always an amazing turnout, and for only $5 dollars to get in and get something to eat and watch a throwback film (this year being freaky friday), it was quite the rage. plus, the money went to a fundraiser that helped public schools in the area have breakfast. so it’s a win win.

so not only do you go with the intent of supporting the youth of neighbouring schools, but your boyfriend is one of the co-organizers of the event. so of course you show your face.

which brings you back to the current moment, pouting up at lucas with the best puppy-dog eyes you can manage. lucas sighs gently, running his hands over your jean jacket covered arms. "don't give me that look."

you don't let up, but your lips begin to form into a grin. "what look?"

"the look you're doing right now." he laughs once, squeezing your biceps tightly. "you know I have to be all over the place, babe. I can't just stand with you."

your exaggerated, playful pout quickly changes into a real frown—even though you don't want to show that emotion. because lucas is one of the co-organizers of the event, he's got lots of duties to attend to while the event is happening. so although you're technically here to spend time with your boyfriend, you'll barley get to see him.

plus, cora is sick and had no choice but to stay back at the apartment and watch re-runs of friends, and rachel wouldn't be able to come until the movie starts—coinciding with when her shift at work ends.

"I know but..." you trial off, taking your bottom lip into your mouth anxiously. you've never been a huge fan of crowds—especially when it's tightly gathered in a confined space—and the idea of having to be alone right now is rather daunting. "can't I just help you? like just go with you?"

lucas sighs again, eyes flickering out to the crowd around you. the smell of cheap burgers and hotdogs are already filtering through the air, providing the most perfect early spring atmosphere for the evening. he meets your eyes once more, "it just won't work like that. hey, you'll be okay."

he kisses your cheek, doing his best to reassure you, but you still feel down. "right, okay."

"get yourself a drink and just chill—i'll find you when I can, okay?"

you send him a closed mouth smile, breathing through your nose in a gentle exhale. "okay."

with that he turns away, quickly moving through the lingering crowd as he makes his way into the courtyard. you huff lightly, looking around the sea of people to see if you recognize anyone—literally anyone you can stick with until rachel gets there. but nobody is there.

you eventually follow the crowd, entering the lit-up courtyard. it's decorated in various streamers and balloons representing school colours, along with a spread of beanbags and camping chairs set up for the movie. it looks really good, and even though it's not the warmest temperature due to the night sky, the collection of bodies and decor have the place feeling cozy.

you spot a long table through students, full of what seems to be drinks—various waters, juice and sodas lining the gray fold away surface. you sneak your way through, eyeing the options before inevitably deciding on water. caffeine will just make you anxious, and your favourite juice flavour wasn't an option.

in your peripheral vision, you see a member of the hockey team standing on the other side the table—presumably keeping track of beverages and taking payments. without properly looking up you begin shuffling through your clutch, "how much for the water?"

"it's free."

the all too familiar and cocky voice of matthew knies has you freezing. slowly, your eyes creep upwards, only to be met with the light eyes of his. he'd been the hockey player in your peripheral, and you curse yourself for not noticing sooner.

his brows raise, anticipating a snarky remark. but much to his dismay you turn away, walking back through the crowd and away from him.

he turns to mitchell, one of his teammates, patting his shoulder quickly. "mind watching the table for a sec—gotta do something." matthew doesn't even wait for a response before he's following you, easily making his way between the bodies crowded around.

matthew catches sight of you off to the side, seemingly unaware that he’s hot on your trail. he approaches you swiftly, getting your attention as he speaks. "you're like really bad at the whole socialization thing."

your eyes widen briefly, watching as he casually leans against the nearest table.

"maybe I just don't want to socialize with you." you retort, eyeing him pointedly before taking a slow sip from your water bottle.

matthew smirks. "that's mean."

"don't care." you answer, looking back out into the yard.

a beat passes. "you come alone?" matthew questions, seemingly curious.

you cross your arms. "sort of."

"sort of?" matthew parrots, eyes briefly scanning the crowd. "what's does sort of mean?"

you look at him again. "well I came with lucas, but he's busy so now i'm here...with you." the last part has you pulling a face, scrunching your noise is displeasure.

he snorts. "don't pretend like you don't enjoy my company."

"enjoying isn't quite the word i'd use to describe how I feel about you and your company." you retort lightly, brows pulling tightly.

matthew sucks his bottom lip, containing his grin. "okay, so why aren't you mingling? this is supposed to be a event of socializing."

"I'm not a fan of mingling." you tell him earnestly, clearing your throat in a moment of venerability. "or crowds. besides the fundraiser, I only come for lucas."

"yeah crowds aren't for everyone." matthew's genuine tone has you taken back, and you eye with an almost shock like gaze. "sorry that you're dealing with it alone."

you feel weird—why does the sincerity in his voice make you tingly? "well," you begin. "i'm not alone because you've insisted on coming over here to annoy me."

his smirk is back. "it is my specialty."

you laugh a real laugh, a very brief moment of quiet joy that takes you by surprise. the way his eyes twinkle and smirk widens at the sound of your giggle goes unnoticed by you.

"babe." lucas voice calls out, jogging up to you and matthew. "hey." he greets, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. "I got a minute, thought i'd see what you were up to." his eyes flicker to matthew's. "see you've found a friend."

matthew's eyes don't leave you, waiting and watching for your reaction to your boyfriends words. you swallow gently, "he was just keeping me company."

"she's not a fan of crowds—thought i'd take a few minutes from work to make sure she's settled." this time when matthew speaks, he's only looking at lucas, and you don't miss the underlying message in his words.

lucas seems oblivious to the hostility underlying his teammates admission, a smile overtaking his face. "anyways, I gotta get back. gunner was telling me about this new club out on main—i'll catch you guys later."

as soon as your boyfriend is out of ear shot, you send matthew a furious glare. "what was that?"

"what was what?" he questions innocently, eyes yet to meet yours again.

"i'm not stupid, matthew, you were trying to..I don't know? like one up lucas by insinuating he's a bad boyfriend for not spending time with me. what the fuck." you spit angrily, gaze tinted with fury.

"I'm not insinuating anything, i'm simply just calling it as I see it." matthew retorts.

you breath a shocked laugh. "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're lucky he didn't catch on to your stupid little coded message." you take a breath, arms tightening over your chest. "he's your friend—why are you trying to ruin that?"

matthew takes a step towards you. "like I said, i'm just calling it as I see it."

"bullshit." you chime. "what's it to you that lucas is busy tonight and he's not able to spend time with me? seriously."

his brows raise, an amused expression on his face. he knows he shouldn’t argue with you, especially when what he wants to say will only further upset you—but he can’t help himself. "he's too busy to spend time with you, yeah? but tell me why we're in the same job position and I haven't left your side since I saw you. so call whatever you want bullshit, but the real bullshit is the guy standing next to his teammate doing absolutely nothing but making you look stupid."

matthew's words have you pulling back, face faltering. you feel emotion clawing at your chest, flushing your skin a rosey pink as the embarrassment and anger about the situation hits you all at once.

his face flashes with remorse, looking down at you with a lingering guilty gaze. his mouth opens slightly, as if to speak—but nothing comes out.

"fuck you." you hiss quietly before turning on your heels and leaving. everything in your body feels like it's on fire, walking through the courtyard with a determination you didn't even realized you had. you can feel matthew's eyes boring into your retreating figure, but you don't dare turn around and look.

he's right—god, he's fucking right. matthew not only calling out your boyfriends shitty behaviour but your obliviousness to the truth about the situation, stings you hard, and you didn't know what else to say or how to react besides the way you did.

you’re even angrier about the fact that even within the little attention matthew had given you tonight, was more than lucas had all day—and the time matthew spent at your side in the bustling courtyard, had your anxiety about the crowds fizzling.

STAGE 3: Denial

the sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished wood of a court has always been one of your least favourite things. it's a high pitched, constant sound that has you cringing every time.

you eyes flicker up towards the scoreboard—it's almost half time. it's a relief, and you are almost giddy at the fact that the stupid squeaking while be on a momentary pause.

lucas squeezes your thigh, right over your jeans. you look over at his gently, met with the sight of his curious grin. "what's up babe?"

you shrug, "just watching the timberdogs!"

"it's the timberwolves." he corrects you, eyes twinkling with amusement. you laugh it off, looking back out into the basketball court, eyes following the players as they zip back and forth on the length of the floor.

lucas' dad has always been super into basketball—like more that the average person. he's got a room in his childhood home that's designed to resemble the minnesota timberwolves court, as well as a plethora of jerseys and seasons tickets for every year.

you're not sure why his dad couldn't make it to this game—lucas had told you in the car on the way to the game but you'd been too distracted with everything else going on inside the vehicle to truly pay attention. maybe he was sick? it also could've had something to do with his car breaking down? you don't recall—but regardless, the tickets weren't being used, and they were offered to lucas.

you assumed it was just two—because lucas didn't have any siblings, and you would think it was just his parents attending these games. but no, there's four tickets, because it was always a group of 50 year old men attending together.

so what you hoped was a date night between you quickly turned into a little group outing with your respective roommates. which wouldn't of been such a problem if you weren't still reeling about the last conversation you had with matthew—in the courtyard when he practically called out your entire relationship.

the reminder makes you shift in your chair, angling yourself away from matthew even further. you can hear him sigh to himself, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his leg bounces up and down with a feverish pace.

it's annoying—more than the shoes on the court. you huff, turning to look at him. "can you stop moving, it's distracting."

he turns to his head. "how is it distracting?"

"i'm trying to watch the game." you retort.

matthew's brows raise incredulously. "you've been watching anything but the game since it started."

"that's not true." it is true, and his call out has you feeling even more infuriated than when you first got to the arena. "I love basketball."

"sure you do." he nods, unconvinced. "instead of watching me then, get back to watching your timberdogs." matthew messes up the name of the NBA team on purpose, teasing you with your own fuck-up.

you huff. "you are so-" the sound of the buzzer echoing loudly throughout the court silences you, whatever insult you'd been conjuring up dying on your tongue. the players begin filling off the court as halftime begins, leaving the crowd to begin freely moving and walking throughout the stands and hallways—replenishing snacks and/or drinks.

on the opposite side of matthew, cora leans forward, looking at you with wide eyes. "hey! i'm going to get another coke. do you want one?" her voice is loud, and even still it's barley heard over the rowdy crowd.

"yes please." you smile. your roommate nods in understanding before getting up, making her way down the row of seats before disappearing out of sight—leaving you with only lucas and matthew.

matthew snickers—mostly to himself—eyes downcast as he fiddles with a loose thread on the knee rip of his jeans. "didn't think you were capable of such manners."

"didn't think you were capable of such big words! woah, i'm impressed." your face falls, words dripping with sarcasm as your annoyance builds higher and higher.

you shoot a look towards lucas, but are only met with the sight of him engaged in his phone—playing fucking candy crush of all things—completely unaware of the tension rising between you and his friend.

"of course your impressed." matthew insists, "everything I do impresses you."

the lingering crowd around you seems even more roudy than before, but your too enthralled with matthew to even look away and glance around. despite the noise, you can hear him fine—too fine, if you're getting specific. 

your mouth drops, a tiny puff of disbelieved laughter leaving you. "oh so we're back on the 'y/n is obsessed with matthew train.'"

matthew slowly leans closer to you, his elbow nudging yours on the tiny shared armrest between your seats. his cologne invades your space—something clean like fresh laundry mixed with a spicy cinnamon. it's almost intoxicating, and you're left frozen in place.

"we never got off that train." his words are dripping with a teasing undertone, licking his bottom lip slowly.

a hand nudges matthew shoulder from the row of seats behind yours—gathering his attention. curious, you turn as well, finding a guy seemingly only a few years older than you, looking down at you both with a sheepish grin. "you guys are on the jumbotron."

both your heads whip back around, darting up towards the jumbotron hanging from the exposed ceiling of the court. much to your horror, you and matthew are on the screen—the image framed in a heart filter with 'kiss cam' scribbled across the bottom.

you and matthew both flush—although your heat is definitely more visible, trailing down your neck and appearing in splotches over your exposed chest. "no." you say, making a cut off motion beside your neck with your perfectly manicured nails. "we're not together."

it's no use— the jumbotron can't hear your pleas. matthew shakes his head, joining in on your attempt to get the camera off you both. through the screen you see matthew shift his attention to you, which has you whipping around to look at him. his gaze is almost soft—curious, maybe.

suddenly the crowd gets louder, their unison chants echoing through the building. "kiss kiss kiss!"

the commotion finally has lucas looking away from his phone, and at the sight of what's happening in front of him—his face falls. his brows furrow slightly, gaze switching between the jumbotron and the both of you—staring at one another.

lucas quickly grabs your face, turning you away from his roommate and planting a messy kiss on your lips. your eyes widen slightly, but eventually flutter closed—allowing your boyfriend to move his lips along yours.

matthew swallows roughly, looking away and back towards the screen. the camera has since shifted, showcasing you and lucas in the last lingering moments of the bruising kiss. the crowd cheers, but as soon as you pull away from him, the couple on the jumbotron changes.

lucas expression shifts, lips pulling into a frown as he pulls away from you—his hand quickly retreating back into his lap. "why didn't you nudge me?"

your mouth open and closed quickly, "I-I don't know."

"you don't know?" lucas's tone is quite, but firm, clearly unhappy with the situation that just transpired—even though nothing really happened.

you shrug, and blush once again, but this time is purely from embarrassment about the scolding from your boyfriend. "no, the crowd was looking and I just, I tried to say no but the camera wasn't hearing me. are you seriously mad at me?"

your eyes quickly flicker around the immediate area, making sure nobody is outwardly eavesdropping on your hushed argument.

"should I be?" lucas retorts, pulling your attention back to him. he's looking at you curiously, tinged with something that seems like hope as he waits for your response.

you swallow roughly, once shake of your head following. "no."

lucas exhales shakily, the corner of his mouth sliding into a grin. "okay," he mumbles, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "then i'm not mad."

you allow yourself lean into him easily, but your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and a million unknown feelings, and when you try and even begin to understand them, you're just left more confused.

the crowd begins filtering back into the arena, finding their original seats as the halftime clock begins winding down—the third quarter approaching quickly. cora comes back down the isle, squeezing past outstretched legs as small apologies spew past her lips.

you catch her eye, and her smile grows. "a coke for you." the posh, royal tone she often uses comes to a slow halt, passing you your drink as she eyes your somber expression.

you take the plastic cup. "thanks."

cora gives you a knowing look—one that says your sudden shift in mood will be discussed later in the comfort of your shared apartment. you're not sure why you're dreading that so much.

just as the buzzer sounds throughout the arena again, signaling the resumption of the game, your eyes flicker back towards matthew again. his jaw is tight, and you can see the tendons moving under his skin as he grinds his teeth together. matthew's leg is bouncing again, faster than before—his gaze locked on the court.

it's a longer glance than you intended, but you can't help yourself—something inside you is unwilling to look away.

that dreadful noise of shoes on the polished floor pulls you away, your nose scrunching as you inwardly cringe at the sound.

quickly, matthew's eyes flicker to you—only to be met with the side of your face. he watches gently as your face drops from the previous tight pull, your smooth skin stretching over your perfectly shaped nose.

the puffiness of your lips and the lingering blush on your cheeks, and the way your hair cascades down your back in the most delicate blowout...matthew can't help the way the faintest grin ghosts over his face.

the rest of the game thankfully goes by quickly, and before you know it you're all back in lucas’ car, making the drive back to your apartment located near campus. thankfully cora and lucas fill the lingering silence with pointless conversation—you and matthew only chiming in when necessary.

you don't know what exactly happened, but you know something has shifted. you don't know what it means, or what will happen because of it—and that has you feeling really weird.

as soon as you're back in the comfort of your own apartment, cora smacks her purse down on the counter, gathering your attention with the harsh sound. "what's going on with you?"

your shoulder deflate. "I don't know."

she frowns, walking further into the apartment where you've decided to flop dramatically on the couch. your pants pull uncomfortably around your waist, and the button is digging into your belly pouch like nobodies business.

cora sits down beside you, facing you with curious eyes. "did something happen at the game? it felt like when I went to get the drinks, I missed something."

"I was on the kiss cam." you breathe.

"okay?"

"with matthew."

"oh." she is momentarily taken back, blinking three times quick as she digests your words. cora is very much used to your and matthew's supposed hatred for one another, even though she's never believed it. but the look on your face at the game isn't adding up to just 'being on the kiss cam with matthew'.

cora's brows pull tightly, creating a deep wrinkle between them. "what else happened?"

"I think," you start, voice dropping as if you weren't the only two people in the room. "I think matthew wanted to kiss me."

her eyes widen to an unfathomable size. "what?! how do you know?"

your mouth opens, a sharp breath passing through your lips. "I just....I don't know, there was something about the way he looked at me. am I being crazy?"

instantly cora shakes her head, a gentle frown on her face. "no. the eyes never lie."

your expression droops in a mixture of confusion and fear, eyes beginning to glaze with emotion as you look at cora.

she continues, "and if he tried to kiss you, what would you have done?"

"I don't know." you exhale shakily.

you hear your roommate coo gently, wrapping her arms around you in a much needed hug. your eyes pinch shut, holding onto cora's arm as you continue the embrace.

you are so screwed.

—

how lucas managed to drag you to another loud and obnoxious frat party is honestly beyond you, but there you were—doing your best at mingling and letting loose while lucas was off doing god knows what with his teammates.

rachel thankfully ended up being at the party, and as soon as she ran up to you and made herself known—you didn't leave her side. which in hindsight maybe wasn't the best idea.

you love rachel, truly, but she's never been the best influence—especially when alcohol is involved. one minute your sipping your first seltzer, and the next you're stumbling over, 10 drinks in and screaming chappell roan lyrics like nobodies business.

which means right now you're hammered, sluggishly walking through the busy frat house as you attempt in finding your boyfriend. because drunk you is clingy—and a little horny—and all you want is the warm touch and attention of a man.

unaware, drunk bodies bump into from both sides—too caught up in the party atmosphere to even notice you. it makes the journey a bit harder, but somehow you haven't managed to fall on your ass, so you'll count that as a win.

"y/n?"

the sound of your name has you blinking, looking around the room until you locate the culprit. matthew's hand touches your exposed shoulder, grabbing your attention. his brows pull together, and he bends his knees slightly so he's able to properly look into your eyes. "hey are you with me?"

you blink. "your eyes are like really pretty." a fit of giggles follows your slurred admission, tumbling forward slightly as you clutch your belly.

matthew's hands steady you easily. the combination of your shitty balance and surprisingly playful and kind words tells him all he needs to know about your current state—you're drunk.

"where's lucas?" he asks you, beer can abandoned on a side table beside one of the terribly stained couches lining the makeshift sitting area. matthew eyes you again, "or did you come with cora?"

you shake your head. "cora's a loser and had to work—so here I am."

he can barley understand you due to the slurred, sluggish string of words, but he catches the jist of it. "so you're alone."

"no..." you retort, huffing like you're annoyed. "lucas is here. wait! have you seen him?"

"not for hours." matthew tells you. "I think you need to go home though."

you whine a protest, shaking off the hand he'd still had on your shoulder. matthew isn't having it, and before you can register what's going on, he's grabbing the meat of your biceps, guiding you to the couch before sitting you down.

"hey!" you huff, falling back against the cushions—wow, for a frat couch it's really comfortable.

"i'm going to find lucas, okay? stay here." matthew tells you firmly before walking back into the heart of the crowd, on a mission to find your boyfriend. it's actually not a hard task, and he's only looking for a minute or two before he spots lucas—in the back corner with a couple guys from the team and some mystery girls, all laughing and passing around a joint.

"hey," matthew starts firmly, grabbing the groups attention. lucas brows pull, taking a slow drag from the joint resting between two loose fingers.

"lucas man, y/n needs to go home—she's practically black out."

lucas groans, passing off the joint to the blonde girl closest to matthew—the same girl who's been eyeing him since he walked up to the group a few moments ago.

"fuck, man. I forgot she was here."

his word have matthew's jaw ticking, eyes squinting pointedly. "you forgot your girlfriend was here?"

lucas, ever oblivious, doesn't catch the irritation lacing his roommates words, and he only shrugs nonchalantly before taking a hearty sip of beer. he looks at matthew, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "listen, I'm still having a good time. can you like, take her home?"

matthew can barley hold back a scoff. "seriously?"

"i'd really appreciate it." lucas says. "I can trust you, right?"

that really rubs matthew the wrong way, because what the actual fuck is he even trying to insinuate with that comment. before he can bite his tongue, matthew's anger comes boiling to a point. "yeah, because i'm not some no good boyfriend who's spending his time doing drugs and flirting with 18 year olds while my girlfriend is alone and vulnerable."

lucas blinks, taken back—but matthew doesn't care. matthew sends one more harsh glare towards him before leaving the area, weaving back through the party.

when he reaches you again you're practically sleeping, holding your knees to your chest and using them as a pillow. your face is squished, your blinks slow.

"we're going." matthew tells you, gently nudging your knee.

you groan, lifting your head. "where's lucas?"

"he's not coming."

"oh." you sigh, blinking with unshed emotion. your hair is wild, like you've been sweating and running your fingers through it all night—which you have. and if matthew wasn't so frustrated with his roommate right now, he'd probably tease you about it.

matthew helps you off the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to provide you with some stability as he guides you both outside.

the fresh air is shocking, sending you into a fit of shivers almost immediately—despite the mid may warmth. thankfully it's not a long walk back to the apartment, and matthew only has to stop with you twice because you claim you're going to throw up—spoiler alert, you don't.

you stumble out the elevator, tripping over your own two feet. matthew grabs the back of your tank top, halting you back up. "okay, slow down."

"but i'm tired." you whine, head falling back dramatically.

"you're gunna be real tired when you smack your face off the ground and end up in the ER." matthew let's go of your shirt, but takes ahold of your wrist, practically pulling you down the hall towards your apartment door.

"I don't want to go to the ER." you tell him, eyes widening with panic.

matthew's almost amused, sending you a small smirk over his shoulder. "okay, then let's get you inside."

"okay." you nod in agreement. thankfully the door is unlocked, because matthew didn't even want to start asking you about the whereabouts of your keys while you're this obliterated.

you sigh happily, kicking off your shoes messily before stumbling through your dark apartment. blindly, matthew finds the switch beside the door, flickering on the overhead light.

as soon as the room becomes illuminated he located you again, lounging half on the couch. he moves towards you, his smirk growing. "that's not your bed."

"it's not?"

he stifles a laugh. "no."

you whine again, head lolling to the side dramatically. "can you take me there?" your arms extend out towards him, resembling a mummy. "please. don't be mean."

matthew gulps gently, but takes ahold of your hands, pulling you back into unstable feet. "i'm not mean." he tells you, letting go of your hands. it proves to be a mistake because your immediately falling backwards.

matthew curses, grabbing you before you hit the couch and pulling you back up. you laugh, feeling very much like a ragdoll. you look up into his eyes, "you are too."

"you're mean too." he says, wrapping an arm around your hips and looping his fingers through your belt loop. he begins walking you both down the hall, "you're the one who calls me names."

you gawk loudly. "i'm only defending myself, matthew."

"whatever you say, y/n." he hums playfully. "which room is yours?"

you tell him that it's the room at the end of the hall, and allow matthew to continue guiding you to your bedroom. he nudges the half open door with hip, opening the threshold completely.

he drops you to the bed, and you go easily, falling against the unmade pile of blankets with a smile on your face. "where are your pyjamas?"

you lazily point towards the tall dresser next to the door. "top drawer."

matthew nods, pulling it open and immediately stifling through the jam packed drawer. he manages to pull out a t-shirt and plaid pants—ones he's seen you wearing at his place before. he tosses the items beside you. "think you can manage that?"

you sit up quickly, a lazy scoff falling past your lips. "yes." you grab onto the pyjamas, and before anything else your eyes widen, glancing back to matthew. "turn around."

matthew snickers at your tone—obviously he was going to turn around, but seeing you get so worked up over it has him left amused. he turns on his feet, broad back facing you as he looks into the dark hallway—patiently waiting for you to change.

you begin taking off your tight, alcohol sticky clothes, desperate to get into something comfortable and climb under the blankets. you lift your shirt over your head, and the momentary lack of vision has you stumbling, falling into the chair beside your vanity.

you hear matthew's quiet snicker. "shut up." you grumble, pulling on the pyjama shirt.

"didn't say anything."

"you thought it." you retort. eventually you get into the pants as well, and immediately climb into your bed. the sound of your delightful sigh and ruffling sheets have matthew peeking over his shoulder, making sure you were decent.

once he sees that you are in fact dressed, he faces you again. "do you need to be sick?"

you pause, is if you were assessing yourself to find an answer. a beat passes, "don't think so."

he hums doubtfully, walking towards your vanity and taking ahold of your tiny trash bin sitting underneath. you'd emptied it that morning, so there was nothing but a makeup wipe and a few q-tips in the bottom from when you'd gotten ready. matthew puts it beside your bed. "just in case you're lying."

"excuse me," you huff, squinting pointedly. "I don't lie."

he ignores you, picking up the stuffed zebra sitting on your bed, wedged between the pillow and the headboard. matthew snorts, examining the matted fur and scratched button eyes of your most prized possession. "awh, who's this little guy?"

you push up, snatching your zebra from his hands and bringing it to your chest. "don't touch ross with your filthy hands."

"his name is ross?" matthew snickers as you cuddle the stuffed animal, rubbing your cheek against the top of its head.

you nod. "yes."

"cute." he hums.

your eyes feel heavy with sleep, and it has you falling back towards the pillows, your beloved ross smooshed against your face. matthew swallows gently, watching the way your breath begins to even out and your blinks become slower.

"goodnight, y/n." he whispers.

matthew walks out your room, slowly shutting the door behind him—but just before the latch click, you mumble his name. it has him pausing, slowly pushing the door open once more.

you're looking towards the door lazily. "can you stay with me.”

matthew's face falls, swallowing roughly at the sight of you—laid out on your bed, completely relaxed and pretty. you don't even know what you do to him, and it drives him insane. he sighs. "no. I can't."

you pout, a breathy wind blowing past your dry lips. "pleaseee...lucas never stays with me."

the mention of your boyfriend has matthew scoffing, the conversation they'd had earlier coming back to him in a angry wave. "lucas is a dick."

he's expecting your to scold him, so matthew is surprised when your gentle giggles float through the room. "such a dick." you slur in agreement.

a moment passes, and your quiet giggles slowly die. wordlessly, your hand comes out fromunder the covers and pats the spot beside you—inviting him on your bed.

matthew's breath hitches, but he doesn't walk away. matthew softly shuts the door before walking back through your room, stepping over stray shoes and your discarded party clothes on the way to your bed.

"I don't bite." you grin teasingly.

matthew can't help the smirk that makes its way onto his face. "doubt it."

your smile mimics his, and that has matthew getting onto your bed, sitting atop the covers and leaning his upper body against your plush headboard.

it's only a few more minutes before your gentle snoring is heard throughout the room, a tell tale sign that you've fallen into a deep sleep. matthew watches you for a moment, letting the peace linger between you—a peace that has never been between you before.

matthew's eyes begin to feel heavy, and before he knows it, your soft snores are lulling him to sleep.

STAGE 4: Ignorance

when you woke up the following morning, you were in a state of confusion, still dealing with the lingering affects of alcohol and trying to re-collect your memories from the night before.

with a groan, you got out of bed, shuffling down the hall and into the living room. thankfully, cora is still sleeping after he late night shift—so you're in complete silence as you pour yourself a hefty glass of ice water.

it comes back to you in flashes, each blurry memory worse than the last—rachel convincing you to have another drink, followed by another, the loosing rachel at the party and having to walk through the house while hammered. then matthew is bringing you home, without lucas for a reason you don't recall—matthew in your room, changing behind his back, him touching ross...you pleading for him to stay.

your breath hitches—a mixture of embarrassment and hangxiety hitting you at full force. then you feel yourself panic, your stomach dropping. had you even checked beside you this morning? was your boyfriends best friend still in your bed?

you quickly—much quicker than you should be moving when you're that hungover—make your way back down the wall, sheepishly peeking into your bedroom.

he's gone. and that makes you feel worse than before.

you don't see him for the whole day, and then the next day comes and you still don't run into matthew knies. not in the hallway of your apartment building, and certainly not in the elevator. you don't see him at school, or even at the hockey rink. the one time you spend the night at your boyfriends, matthew is nowhere to be found. almost two weeks pass, and you haven't seen him at all.

it's making you anxious, and not only can cora tell—sending you looks of pity anytime you're making dinner together—but lucas can tell something is up with you too.

anytime he'd ask, you'd brush it off with a easy excuse—you're tired, or you have a headache—but it was never believable, and it was becoming repetitive.

did you say something to him? did you do something to him? you're reeling with possibilities of what could've happened between you and matthew knies to have him actively avoiding you.

but honestly, you're no better, and after a few days the anxiety of it all was getting to you—and you begin actively avoiding him as well. you  call in sick to work anytime your shift is during a game, and you've only spent time with lucas if it's at your apartment. you leave early for class with the hopes of avoiding running into him, and you stay behind late for the same reason.

it was exhausting but you couldn't help it.

so when cora texted you this afternoon about meeting up for lunch between her classes, you easily agreed. wednesday's were your free days, with no classes to take up your schedule—moping around your apartment while dealing with the mess of emotions in your head wasn't your most ideal choice of productivity.

so with only an hour until cora's lunch gap, you strip out of your pyjamas, tossing on your robe before making your way to the bathroom. you throw your hair up, only intending to wash your body and hopefully clean off any lingering lazy and anxious energy from your skin.

you sigh, pulling back the floral printed shower curtain. immediately, you scream, jumping backwards as the sight of a large, brown spider that greets you—scurrying up the walls before slipping back down.

your eyes begin welling up with tears as dry sobs rack your body—of course there's a fucking gigantic spider in your bathtub.

you rush out the bathroom and make a beeline for the front door, pulling it open with the upmost urgency. you don't even close it, speed walking down the dimly lit hallway until you're at your boyfriends apartment.

your knocks are frantic, perfectly capturing the emotions your feeling. thankfully it's only a few moments of your panic stricken knocking before the handle turns, the door opening to reveal not lucas.

matthew's taken back at the sight of you—hair piled on top of your head with a makeup stained robe around you, bare feet on display. quickly, his eyes land upon your face, and the sight of your tears and pale skin has him faltering. "what's wrong?"

you swallow roughly, a few tears trailing down your blotchy cheeks. "I went to take a shower, and there's a huge fucking spider and i'm so scared of bugs—I don't know what to do, I need help." you're a babbling, sniffling mess, eyes darting between matthew and back down the hall.

"it's okay." he says quickly, stepping out into the hallway. "i'll kill it, okay?"

you nod, blowing out a shaky breath. "okay." for as long as you can remember you've had a crippling fear of any and all creepy, crawly insects. something about the way they scurry around quickly, unable to know what it's thinking and what it's planning to do to you, never fails to leave you shaking.

your fear has completely taken over your body, and it's the only reason you're able to speak to matthew knies without remembering the past few weeks between you—or rather, the lack there of.

you follow him back to your apartment timidly, trialing behind his broad shoulders like a lost puppy. he breathes gently as he enters, grabbing one of the extra shoes at the front door—the spider killing weapon of choice, clearly.

"it's in the tub." you mutter, eyes darting down the hall. matthew nods, walking towards the bathroom like he's not about to battle the eight legged beast residing in there.

he pulls back the shower curtain further, and you peek around his bicep—locking eyes with the creature. you shiver, a disgruntled moan leaving your mouth. matthew looks back at you. "sure you wanna watch?"

in all seriousness, you nod. "I need to know it's dead."

"okay," he hums, grip tightening around your floppy, strappy sandal. the spider is still crawling around, attempting to escape over the lip of the bathtub but inevitably falling back down.

it's definitely not as big as you described it, but matthew doesn't even dare bring that up. at least, he won't until the spider is gone and you're returning back to a normal heart rate. he brings the shoe up before quickly bringing it back down, but before it can be smooshed, the spider scurries away.

you squeal once again, eyes filling with salty tears as you grip matthew's arm—hiding your face is the soft material of his sweater. "its moving!"

he has a hard time stifling his laugh, looking down at you with an amused expression. "why are you cryin?"

"i'm scared." you mutter, fingers digging into his arm muscle. "hurry up and kill it—oh my god, i'm going to be sick."

matthew rolls his eyes, the action laced with fondness rather than irritation. "well I can't kill it if you're holding onto me for dear life." he watches the way your eyes dart towards the grip on his bicep, and you quickly release him, taking a small step backwards.

now with his arm free, he approaches the tub again, and this time when he brings the sandal down, it finds the spider, smacking the unwanted insect with a sickening plat.

you practically gag, wringing out your hands in disgust at the sound.

matthew looks at you again. "you good?"

hesitantly, you nod. "yeah."

thankfully matthew cleans up the remnants of the spider from your white tub with some toilet paper, eliminating any disturbing evidence of its existence.

as he does, and your frantic state comes back down to normal, you come to the shuddering realization of what's happening—matthew, the man you haven't since since your impromptu sleepover, is standing in your bathroom—all while you cry and stand naked under a robe.

he flushes the paper down your toilet, the hallow flush echoing through your ears. matthew turns back to you, sending you a closed mouth, awkward smile.

you hate this—this isn't the matthew you know. you hadn’t realized how much you missed his annoying remarks and infuriating smirk until you no longer had them. you're panicking again, expect this time it's because you don't want him to leave and you never see him again.

you clear your throat, stepping in his path. "I haven't seen you."

his brows pull tightly, eyeing you up and down curiously. "what do you mean?"

"you've been avoiding me." you huff, nerves settling low in your belly. you’re not even worried about how desperate you sound, and you play with the string of your robe with nervous, trembling hands.

"only because you've been avoiding me." he retorts firmly.

"what?" you breathe roughly—exasperated. even though you so badly want to say that you haven't, it would be a lie. you have been avoiding him, and clearly he's caught onto the fact. so you decide to play coy, and somewhat petty, crossing your arms. "i'm literally with you right now."

matthew snickers. "not by choice."

"and since when have I ever spent time with you by choice?" you question lightly.

matthew's almost playful expression falters, and a more serious look blossoms over his features. he swallows gently, adam’s apple bobbing prominently. "since you've never decided to walk away."

your mouth opens, nothing but a hitched breath coming out. you blink once, and then again, feeling nothing less than speechless from matthew's words.

his eyes dart over your face, taking in your seemingly surprised reaction. he too blinks roughly, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't mean to say that aloud. matthew clears his throat once, "i'm sorry for being all weird these past couple weeks," he pauses, eyes finding yours, "I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

you frown. "you didn't." a gentle, shaky laugh leaves you, "if I'm remembering correctly, I begged you to stay."

his lips quirk upwards in a smile, "more like pleaded."

"okay!" you laugh in amused disbelief, covering your eyes with a still shaking hand. "don't remind me."

"but you see, this reaction is going to make me remind you at every possible opportunity." matthew teases, reaching towards you until his fingers gently brush yours, moving your hand away from your blushing face.

your eyes flicker back to his, smile falling as you blink up at him. you gulp gently, feeling your stomach swoop with a combination of emotions—nerves, confusion, fear, denial...need.

matthew's eyes slowly trace over you face, lingering on your damp lips before reluctantly tearing his gaze away. but he can't help but to drink you in further, admiring your exposed neck and collarbones—the fuzzy peach housecoat and the crazy hair—the silver initial necklace hanging around you, dangling above your sternum like the perfect accessory. it's all so new and so you.

your gazes meet again, and this time you sigh, a breathy noise that shoots right through matthew.

you blink, and without knowing what to do, you look away, back towards the shower. "how do you know there's no more spiders?" you question timidly, an awkward, unsure laugh following.

matthew holds onto his sigh, turning back to the bathtub. he puts his hands on his hips, stepping closer. "hello? anybody here?" he directs into the shower, looking around the porcelain white walls comically.

you smile fondly just as he looks back to you. "no more spiders."

something is seriously changing between you and matthew, and that makes you feel even more anxious than before. as you finally shower—speedily because you're still scared of the possibility of more creatures—and get ready for lunch, you can't help but wonder.

the what ifs and possibilities all involving your boyfriends roommate are very prevalent in your head, even as you begin to walk to a local campus cafe. as soon as you sit down, you're spilling your guts to cora.

no, you think, you can't like matthew because it's wrong—it's crazy. you're in a relationship, and a few months ago you hated him...at least, you thought you hated him.

and as you expressed it all to your friend, she listened with nothing but love and understanding. when you eventually stop your panicked ramble, cora sighs, looking at you like she just knows.

in that moment you know—the eyes never lie.

STAGE 5: Breaking

you scan the page of your textbook carefully, reading the history material in the hopes of applying it to your research assignment—but your mind is in a million other places.

since you've come to the realization 3 days ago that you have some sort of feelings for matthew, you haven't stopped thinking about him. you're still not sure what it is exactly you feel, so in all honesty you don't feel guilty about it—at least, not yet.

you blink, focusing your eyes as you attempt at reading the same paragraph again. the library is thankfully empty, meaning there's nobody to provide any type of distraction—the last thing you need is another distraction.

well, you're not completely alone, lucas is sitting across from you, typing away on his laptop as he attempts at starting his assignment that was due tomorrow. god, just thinking about that stresses you out. his legs stretch out underneath the table, invading your space, as well as his things spread across the tabletop—providing little to no breathing room.

all day there's been a lingering, awkward energy between you and lucas. he's been unusually quiet, and anytime he did talk to you it was quick and uninterested. unfortunately you've been too busy within your own head to notice the sharp glances he's been sending you, and the way his lips pull into a frown anytime you'd make a sigh of frustration or worry.

it was constant—and lucas was at his breaking point. as you have to restart the scentence again, a tiny huff leaving your lips, he shuts his laptop, the heavy click echoing throughout the library.

you look up quickly, brows pulled together as you eye him. "you okay?"

he huffs in disbelief, "your mind is like somewhere else recently—it feels like you're just a host of a body. it's like you don't even want to be with me." lucas tone is dripping with frustration, sounding nothing less then condescending and irritated.

you blink quickly, taken back from his sudden outburst. slowly, you put down the pen you'd been using to follow along with the words, eyeing lucas with a confusing tilt. is he joking? the last person who should be complaining about anything like this is lucas.

his face stays stern—looking at you like he's just watched you kill his dog. he's not joking.

you scoff quietly, but the disgusted tone is more than prevalent. "seriously? that's rich coming from you lucas. it feels like you haven't wanted to spend time with me for the past three months."

"that's not true." he retorts quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"is it not?" you question sarcastically.

"no!" lucas practically shouts, leaning on the table as he eyes you wildly. "you sound stupid right now."

the remark that you had dies on your tongue, mouth snapping shut. your jaw clicks as it tightens, anger coursing through you at lucas' insult. "how come you didn't take me home at that party a few weeks ago?" you question softly, a knowing look in your pointed gaze.

he wasn't expecting that, and it has him flattering slightly, leaning back as he blinks two quick times. lucas runs a hand through his unruly, light hair, tugging at the root in frustration—trying to think of answer.

"I don't know...fucking seemed like matthew had it under control." he swallows, pausing for a moment. "why does it matter?"

his admission give you confirmation you hadn't realized you'd been looking for. you laugh in disbelief, "yeah, well it seems like matthew is the only one who cares about me."

it was a low blow, one that has lucas' anger rising rapidly—but it was your truth, and you know that now.

"yeah too fucking much." he snarls.

"sorry that he cares about me—unlike you."

lucas jaw tightens, eyeing your face with a look you've never seen before. "we need to break up."

you look at him with disbelief and disappointment, your lip beginning to quiver. "so you're not even going to deny it? not even going to try and fight for me?"

this conversation has taken a turning point you weren't expecting—at least not today. there's nothing but anger between you, but yet you're not upset about being broken with. you're upset because you feel stupid, and everything you've feared about your relationship is true. lucas may love you, but he doesn't care about you.

his eyes flicker with something unknown, and he sighs, "I don't think you want me to."

you close your textbook and shove it into your bag, pushing off the table as you hastily get to your feet. "you're a dick." you don't wait for his response, leaving the library with your heart in your hands.

you push open the grand doors, and immediately you're enveloped in rain. you curse, tightening the hold on your book bag as you begin speed walking in the direction of your apartment. it seems that the rain only gets harder as you go, pelting against your skin like mini bullets and completely soaking you.

it's the cherry on top of everything, and you can't wait to get home, strip completely naked and cry in bed.

the sigh of relief is loud as you finally get back to the apartment building, walking into the lobby like a wet dog. you make a b-line to the elevators, not making your usual stop in the mail room—something that was habit anytime you'd come home.

you wring your hair out between your hands, the water hitting the elevator carpet with a small plopping noise. thankfully, it doesn't stop and you make it up to your door without any interruptions.

you sniffle away the emotion creeping up your chest, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. you only make it a few steps before a door is opening, distracting you.

it's lucas and matthew's apartment, and our steps the latter, gym bag slung over his shoulder. you come to a slow stop without meaning to, looking at him with a soft, yet curious gaze.

his eyes dart to you, but as soon as he sees the state your in he's moving, stepping closer to you with a worried expression. "woah...you okay?"

just the caring tone of his question has you welling up with tears, and it feels like everything is crashing down on you all at once. the confusion, the anger, the heartbreak, the lust, the curiosity...it's all there, drowning you.

you shake your head, mouth opening and closing unsurely. "I-I don't...i'm so." your voice is shaking, and you're borderline hyperventilating as you attempt at getting a coherent sentence out.

matthew lets his gym bag slip off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a hard thud. he takes ahold of your biceps, squeezing the fleshiest part firmly. "take a fucking breath, y/n, you're gunna make yourself sick."

closing your eyes, you take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down from the sudden emotional attack set upon yourself. it takes a minute, but eventually you feel yourself begin to relax, your heart rate slowly creeping back down.

you let your eyes flutter back open, meeting the concerned ones of matthew. your brows pull tightly, a nervous gulp following. "why are you looking at me like that, matthew?" your question is barley above a whisper, as if you were almost scared of the response.

"like what?" he breathes, not once breaking eye contact.

it's almost intimidating, but it's also confirming of so many things. but of course, you're hesitant—heck you're scared and nervous and so unsure about what's going on between you. your brows are still drawn together, creating a tiny indent in the middle of your forehead.

matthew has to fight every urge in his body to not run his thumb over the indent to smooth it out.

"like...like you fucking care about me. like you want me." you answer firmly, eyes frantically moving around matthew's face as you attempt at gauging his reaction.

he doesn't release the hold on your biceps, his gaze turning completely soft. "y/n." he says your name knowingly, fingers gently running up your arms. that’s his answer.

"matthew." you exhale shakily, distracted by the gentle pressure of his fingers on your skin. "you're making me all..."

"all...what?"

"confused." you say honestly, looking up at him with the most vulnerable expression he's seen.

matthew swallows roughly, jerking his hands off your body like you just told him that's he's burning you. "i'm sorry"

the soft, hopeful look on his face doesn't falter, and if anything it increases. "no," you shake your head, "stop."

"what? stop apologizing?" he questions with a frown.

"no," you repeat, "stop looking at me like that."

a moment passes before he speaks again, his words laced with desire— stressing his words. "I can't."

another beat of silence, nothing but the hitching breath of both and you matthew to be heard. you lick onto your bottom lip, "lucas and I...we broke up."

"you did?"

you only get one nod out before matthew rushes forward, grasping your face like he's been waiting for the opportunity since he was put onto the earth. you tilt your head back instinctively, and it's just timed as matthew leans down to kiss you.

the kiss is instantly desperate, the clashing of lips and teeth alluding to so. your tongues glide across each others like second nature, elevating the kiss to a higher, more intense level. it's exhilarating—it's right.

you sigh into his mouth, trembling hands reaching up and grabbing onto matthew's wrists—keeping him against you. you've completely forgotten that you're soaked from head to toe, and how you've just had a fight with lucas that lead to a break up...it's all lost in matthew.

his hands slide farther back, fingers intertwining with your wet strands of hair. it's a gentle and welcoming pull, and you can't help but sigh in pleasure.

matthew follows suit, groaning into your messy kiss. it's been months and months of tip-toeing around one another, too scared to admit the truth in fear of ruining everything and everyone else along the way. but now it's just you two, and matthew can't help but moan at the thought.

the elevator doors slide open, and you’re both pulling apart instinctively at the sound.

but as lucas stands there, jaw ticking with anger as he stares at you—you know it's too late, and he's just seen you making out with his friend. or better yet, he's seen his friend making out with his newley ex-girlfriend.

"are you two fucking serious?"

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. it looks bad, you know it it does—mostly because it is bad. you've been thinking about matthew for much longer than you care to admit, and the first thing you did after getting broken up with is run into his arms—letting matthew kiss you like you're both horny teenagers.

"lucas..." matthew trails off, turning to his roommate with a guilty laced hesitation.

but lucas is only looking at you, that same disgusted smirk on his face from the library. "can't even remember the last time you kissed me, but yet the first thing you did after leaving the library was make out with my roommate. I didn't realize you were such a slut."

you inhale sharply, tears quickly welling up in your eyes.

matthew rushes forward, and before he can logically think of the consequences of his actions, he punches lucas square across the face.

"matthew!" you gasp, moving towards the two men with concern pulling at your face. "no."

he doesn't hear you, looking at lucas as he clutches his jaw. matthew's gaze narrows, shaking out his hand. "don't fucking talk to her like that."

your ex-boyfriend laughs in a mixture of shock and disbelief, stretching his jaw out before he looks back at you. lucas doesn't say anything else, turning and leaving down the buildings stair well.

you're shocked, embarrassed and guilt ridden—your watery gaze locked on the empty space lucas was only moments ago occupying.

"y/n?" matthew questions gently, snapping you out of your own head.

you blink hard, shaking your head. "i'm sorry, I just need some space." you turn away from matthew before he has the chance to answer—mostly because you're too scared that if he begins to speak you'll crawl right back into his arms.

matthew watches you walk away, and all he can do is stand there, focused on your fleeting figure as he slip into your apartment—your lip trembling without another glance in his direction.

his face is contorted, not in anger, but in a look of concern. guilt flashes across his features, and he can't help but groan, running a palm over his face in frustration. did he just loose you for good?

you shut the apartment door behind you, and the tears begin falling down your face at a rapid pace. your lips tug into a frown, a sob wracking through you as you lean back against the door.

cora rounds the corner at the sound, her eyebrows pulled in concern. "what's wrong?" she breathes, rushing towards you.

"I did something terrible." you admit through your stuttering gasps, looking at your roommate with a million different emotions.

"honey..." she coos, wrapping you in a hug. your tears intensify as cora squeezes you in the embrace, and you bury your face in her shoulder to mask your desperate cry.

Epilogue

“god miller! just kiss me already!”

“no, not like this!”

you groan, falling into the couch cushions. the scene on the tv illuminates the room, the late afternoon sun hidden behind the blackout curtains you’ve had drawn since this morning.

nick and jess from new girl have not only been giving you entertainment all day while you mope around, but they’ve also been stupid cute and in love—it makes you want to die.

you’ve only been two places since the chaotic ending to last night; your bed which you cried in all night, and the couch which obviously you also cried on. you keep running through the events of yesterday—the breakup with lucas, finding matthew in the hallway, borderline confessing your feelings to him…kissing him. it felt good—so so good.

but just like that it was snatched from you, and the guilt riddling your body is just nerve wracking and wrenching. while you were kissing matthew, the last thing you were thinking about was lucas, and the possibility of him finding you both like that wasn’t even in your mind. but it happened and now everything feels like a mess—and you feel like an awful person.

you’ve clearly hurt lucas—that much was evident in the awful things he said to you. when you told cora everything last night, eyes stinging with tears and snot dribbling from your nose, she was quick to remind you that lucas never treated you good, and that no matter what he shouldn’t of said that to you.

your phone buzzes against your thigh, making you sit up—brows furrowed in question.

lucas

are you home?

you pause the tv quickly, all while reading the text over and over again as you try and make sense of it. what does he need? does he want to talk? is he going to yell at you? is he simply just curious? does he want to fix your relationship?

you hold your breath as you shakily type your reply.

y/n

yea

you exhale as it goes through, and in habit you bring your thumb to your lips, nerves consuming you as you begin gnawing on the skin around your nail.

your phone buzzes with an incoming message again.

lucas

can I come talk?

you swallow, sitting up straighter as you read his message. this can’t be good, you think—you’ve done nothing positive in the last twenty four hours that warrants a civil talk with your ex. you desperately want to ignore him—throw your phone across the room and get back to new girl on the tv.

a show that you only started watching because it’s matthew favourite—your brain reminds you. you look down at your phone again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you contemplate.

you deserve not only closure, but happiness—not matter what.

y/n

sure

you barley have a minute of speed running the apartment, picking up the empty tub of ice cream and what feels like hundreds on snotty tissues from your crying, before there’s a knock at your door.

even if you didn’t know he was coming over, would could tell it was lucas by the weight of the knock. it was soft, almost hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually be at your door. it always sounded like that.

before you back out, you pull open the door, revealing yourself to a deadpanned face lucas who’s standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. he gulps, eyeing your figure briefly. “can I come in.”

you nod reluctantly, stepping to the side to create enough room for him to slip inside your apartment. lucas sends you a forced smile as he enters, moving through your place like he’s done many times before.

the door shuts with a gentle click, but the room is so tense and quiet it sounds like a bomb. you follow suit, walking into the living room where lucas stands stagnant—eyeing around the apartment with an unsure expression. suddenly his eyes meet yours, “did you cheat on me?”

“no.” you tell him. “I would never cheat…on anybody.”

he sniffs, the sound annoying and disgusting—it’s like he’s trying to stay calm. “but you like him, right? you like matthew?”

you’re so used to trying to please him that you want to stay quiet—because you know if you admit your feelings for his friend, everything is going to completely change…more than it already has. and as lucas looks at you now, his gaze nothing but knowing, you decide you’re done trying to hide from him.

“I do.” you confirm. “but nothing ever happens, and…I didn’t even know when these feelings started. i’ve been so confused for the longest time, and I was scared because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” you pause, wringing out your trembling fingers as you collect your next thoughts. “but i’m sick of doing things for everyone else…and I need to let myself be happy—whatever that ends up being.”

lucas stay silent for a moment, but you can see his mind running a mile a minute. his eyes dart all over you, analyzing your face and body language—you’ve never seen him look at you so intently, and it has you wanting to shy away.

he sighs, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m sorry, y/n—for everything.”

your shoulders deflate, and you feel the emotion you’ve been suppressing since lucas texted you coming back to the surface. “thank you. i’m sorry too.”

“can I give you a hug?” his hesitance is evident, looking at you like he’s unsure of your response—how you’ll react. looking at him right now, you can’t be mad at him. not about your relationship, the breakup or the name he called you in his rage. lucas is a good guy, you know that—he’s just not the guy for you.

“yeah.” you breathe. “i’d like that.”

lucas takes the three steps of distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he brings you into his chest. your hands find place around his waist, holding him against you in a wordless goodbye. his cheek rests on the top of your head, a comforting gesture that has your eyes flickering shut.

he takes a deep breath—his words quiet as he speaks. “I think we met for a reason, y/n. and that reason is matthew.” you feel lucas swallow against you, like he knows what he just said is the final nail in the coffin—everything starts now. “have you noticed how he looks at you?”

you pull back, and watch as the corner of his lips begin to turn upwards—the faintest smile growing. lucas may not like it, but he’s accepted it, and it’s feels better than anything you could imagine. your own smile begins to show, and you nod. “I have.”

matthew knies was an enigma—a giant, infuriating mystery that you never expected to entangle yourself in. but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that you’re easily intrigued, especially when the enigma has always cared for you, no matter how rude and stupid you acted towards him.

perhaps you never hated matthew, but rather the way he made you feel. you hated the idea of being in love with him because you had a boyfriend, so you'd turn into an easily irritated girl, who secretly wanted nothing more then the attention of the boy down the hall. the boy who was more of a boyfriend than lucas could ever be. the boy who you don't hate, but love.

of course, there’s still the lingering feelings of confusion and nervousness—because you don’t know where you and matthew will go from here.

but later in the day, on you way back from your evening class, as the elevator doors open to your floor and matthew stands there—a grin growing on both your faces at the mere sight of one another…you think you have an answer.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

playlist

every breath you take (i'll be watching you) by the police

pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine

wrong by zayn

your needs, my needs by noah kahan

do I wanna know? by hozier (cover)

each time you fall in love by cigarettes after sex

if I can't be with you by olivia obrien

I would by one direction

[burningembers91]

Rare - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Synopsis: The Salesman wants to play a game with you. But when he changes the rules, so do you

A/N: I am immensely proud of this series. It’s unlike anything I’ve written before and I love exploring the darker sides of characters. This particular fic is probably my favourite so far. I wanted to thank everyone for the frankly mind boggling love I have received on all my fics so far. Thank you ❤️

It had been two weeks since your mysterious man in the grey suit had saved you. Two weeks since you’d given in to your desires. The day after he fucked you so hard that your bed slats broke, an entirely new bed arrived. One with a plush, cream, fabric headboard and a mattress that felt like you were sleeping on a cloud sent straight from heaven.

His heroics in the alleyway, the transition from something psychological to physical had changed the dynamics of your relationship. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel himself falling under your spell. It was a constant struggle to maintain the upper hand, to continue the illusion that you were entirely at his mercy. But you both knew it was a mutual torture, that each of you had the other twisted so deliciously around your respective fingers. The other night he had come so close to telling you his name. It had been so long since he’d spoken it, he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what is was anymore. But there was something about you, something deliciously dark bubbling after your soft, shea scented skin. You could be the death of him, this beautiful femme fatale. He wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control to you though; he still wanted to try and break you.

You received a phone call one day, requesting your attendance at an incredibly high end dress store in Myeong-Dong. As you made your way through the doors, the eye watering price tags made your jaw drop. You could never in a thousand lifetimes afford a dress like this; but you knew someone who could.

You were whisked into a private area, where several women with tape measures took measurements of your body. They didn’t speak to you, didn’t answer any of your questions. You were there less than five minutes, after being instructed to return to the store the next day to pick up your purchase.

“But I didn’t order anything,” you exclaimed, “can you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Our client is very discreet,” the store manager responded. “Please arrive promptly tomorrow to collect your purchase.”

You couldn’t text Mr Grey Suit to ask him what he was up to. You still weren’t privy to any personal information about him, including his phone number. He didn’t come to see you that night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts about what he could have possibly ordered you.

The next day, you arrived at the time requested, and were once again greeted by the store manager who handed you a dress bag, with a note attached. I will see you tonight, 7pm. DO NOT LOOK IN THIS BAG UNTIL THEN. I will know if you do. You headed home, desperate to look inside the bag. You didn’t dare though, you had absolutely no doubt he would know if you took a peek.

Your grey suited man arrived at your apartment at 7pm sharp. He nodded appreciatively at your immaculate hair and makeup, cupping your chin in his hand as his eyes explored yours.

“Tonight,” he explained, “you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. If you disobey me, you will be punished. If you perform satisfactorily, you will be rewarded.”

“If I perform satisfactorily?” You scoffed. “I didn’t realise I was a circus monkey.”

He wiped his thumb along your lower lip, smearing the lipstick you’d applied not 10 minutes ago.

“You will do exactly what I say,” he growled. “Now, get dressed into the gift I gave you. And clean your face up. You have 5 minutes. Do not keep me waiting.”

You did as you were asked, presenting yourself like a piece of meat on a platter for him. He nodded approvingly, his hand trailing down the burgundy silk of the evening dress that fit you like a glove, the one he’d had made especially for you. You were a vision, an angel sent straight from heaven. He wasn’t going to tell you that though; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in Seoul, where a private room had been set up especially. The staff were very discreet, and he’d need exactly that for what he hand in store for you tonight. You sat down opposite him at the small table, classical music quietly playing through the speakers. The room had no windows, lit only by the dimness of the candles dotted around the room.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Mr Grey Suit said. “I’d expect you to eat every single bite.”

Champagne arrived, followed by oysters. You hated oysters with a fiery passion, but you forced yourself to finish every single one. You refused to show your distaste for them, refused to grimace as the slimy substance slid down your throat. Next up was steak, rare, the meat still oozing blood into to your plate, seeping into the accompanying potatoes. Your stomach turned; you hated red meat. You hadn’t eaten it since you were 10, the smell of it sending your stomach churning.

“I can’t,” you whispered, the metallic smell of the dead animals blood seeping into your nose.

“Are you disobeying me?” He asked, tutting as he tucked a linen napkin into his shirt. “I’m supposing you want to be punished then?”

“Please,” you choked, “anything but steak. I can’t, it’s the smell.”

“Stand up.” He told you. You stood to attention, ignoring the rising bile in your throat. “Come here.”

You did as you were told, your breath hitching as he pulled up your dress to your waist.

“Bend over,” he instructed. You obeyed, hearing the sound of his steak knife slide through the fabric of your lace underwear. You cried out as a sharp, swift slap was delivered to your right cheek, quickly followed by another, and then another. Each hit was harder than the last, tears streaking your face. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite and yet so unbearable.

“Will you do as you’re told now?” He asked, his breath slightly ragged. You were soaking wet as you nodded, and he to resist sliding his fingers inside you. He was supposed to be punishing you after all, not giving you what you wanted.

You sat back down, the skin of your ass stinging as it made contact with the leather chair. Mascara smudged your cheeks, your face flushed. You looked down at the rare steak, then back up your mystery man. He was smiling so smugly at you; he clearly thought he’d won this little game. You smiled sweetly back, picked up your knife and fork, and sliced into the meat. You did your best to ignore the blood that seeped from it. You hardly breathed as you ate, swallowing the bile that continued to rise. A flash of anger contorted his usually handsome features; you were besting him yet again.

You proudly showed off your empty plate, sweat peppering your forehead from the immense effort. You refused to show you him how unwell you felt, choosing to down your glass of champagne to remove the metallic taste from your tongue. He begrudgingly poured you more, both of you smiling as you tried to figure out the others next move.

“What do I get then?” You finally asked, when the silence became too much.

“I’m sorry?” He said, dabbing the corner of his napkin as he surveyed you.

“You said if I did everything you asked, you’d reward me,” you reminded him.

“Ah,” he chuckled, “but you didn’t do everything I asked.”

“Yes, I did,” you snapped back. “I wore the dress, I ate the oysters and the fucking steak!” Eating that piece of meat had almost made you sick, but you’d done it. And he was reneging on his end of the bargain.

“But I had to punish you before you would eat he,” he smiled.

“And I did,” you hissed back at him, fists clenched under the table. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he whispered.

You looked him up again, his smug face looking entirely slappable in that moment.

“And so can I,” you decided. “Goodnight.” Throwing your napkin down on the table, you headed for the door.

“Wait!” His voice was desperate, panicked. He didn’t want you to leave. You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He looked uneasy, wondering why his game wasn’t going the way he wanted.

“Fine, you sighed, “I’ll stay, but you’re going to play one of my games now.”

You fucked him on the floor of that private dining room, straddling him as you pressed the steak knife to his throat, the one he’d used to slice off your underwear. He quivered underneath you, entirely at your mercy as your slick, tight walls swallowed him again and again. He came with a strangled cry, thrusting his hips up into you as you drained every last drop of his seed.

Leaning down, you planted a single tender kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, Mr Grey Suit,” you whispered. Standing up, you left him lying there on the cold marble floor, his cock still hard and his breathing ragged.

He had seriously underestimated you. What had started as a game of control, was now something entirely new to him. For the first time in his life, he was entirely at someone else’s mercy.

[whatifitis]

♡ Wickedly Amazing - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is stressed and working all day so during his 15 min break, you decide to stress him out even more 😍

Author's Note: this is complete ass, i wrote it in 1 hr, feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 970

CW: fluff, my love for wicked the musical, lando matching girlies freak (i think)

Lando had been spending the whole day in meetings via zoom and to say you were bored was an understatement. You had already cleaned the whole apartment, sent some work emails, and read half your book. You missed Lando, even though he was less than 5 feet away. 

Lando had meeting after meeting and they lasted hours. You really only got to see him when you brought him water and food, just sliding it next to him to stay out of frame of the camera and not distract him. 

But Lando was about to have a 15 min break before his next, and hopefully final, meeting of the day. You took it upon yourself to annoy him in your usual fashion, and try and help him destress him a bit by possibly stressing him out. 

While Lan was wrapping up the meeting, you quietly set up a chair behind him and out of frame. You wrapped a throw blanket around your neck and had a broom in hand. As soon as you heard Lando say goodbye and leave the session, you played Defying Gravity on the speakers. 

As soon as the music started, Lando nearly threw his phone into the hair from the abruptly broken silence. He turns in his seat to see you walk around the corner, playing both Elphaba and Glinda’s bits in the song. 

The smile and amusement on his face was what you did these things for. You loved his smile, even more when he truly was happy and when you were the one making it happen. His smile was so wide and the corners of his eyes crinkled with the bridge of his nose. 

As you kept singing, he was cheering you on with some whistles, fist pumps and “that’s my girl”’s. You walked around the room putting on the performance of a lifetime. 

The bridge was coming up and this was your moment to truly blow away the audience (Lando). 

You made your way to the chair you had set up earlier and stood on top of it, shouting about how soon you’d watch them in renown. You threw your cape back to emphasize the imaginary wind blowing up, holding your broom close to you as you prepare to belt your heart out. 

Lando watched in awe through your whole performance. If anyone asked him about your singing, he’d say it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. Whether you were singing Defying Gravity or 22,  he loved it. He thought you were one of, if not the best, singers in the world. That your talent blew the competition out of the water. It wasn’t often that he got to listen to your singing, so the few times he was able to, he savored every second of it. 

But of course, he couldn’t let you have all the fun. As you belted and approached the final riff, Lando took it upon himself to become a part of the ensemble. He stood up from his seat and raced to kneel before you, slowly lying on the ground and singing along to the backing vocals of the song. 

He watched as you successfully attempted Cynthia Erivo’s rift, not being able to hide the smile that is plastered on his face. 

As the song ends, silence fills the room, only the sounds of the two of you trying to catch your breaths can be heard. You drop the broom and step down from your chair, looking at Lando who is now laying flat on the floor as if he was the one carrying that performance on his back.

He clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon so you decided to join him on the floor, falling onto him and resting your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it slows. You feel Lan wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer to him and feeling him kiss your head. 

Lan unties the blanket from around your neck and wraps the blanket around the two of you, wanting to relax for the next few minutes with his favorite person. “That was amazing,” he says. 

“Would you say it was… wickedly amazing?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him, trying to supress your smile a bit. 

“Oh shut up.” he laughs, feeling you let out a few giggles as well. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, looking up at him, your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“For a lot of things. But mainly for being here, and making me laugh and making me happy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just here, trying my best. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, thanks to you. I genuinely wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve been here through all my bullshit. I was rude as fuck at times, but you still stayed. I don’t know how I could ever repay you and how much it means to me.” Lan confesses, softly rubbing his thumb along your cheek. 

You move to hover over him, resting on your elbow, “You really don’t have to thank me, Lan. I do all of this because I love you. I do everything for you because I care about you. You’re my favorite person in the world and there’s no one I would rather sing with. I want to spend the rest of my silly little life with you, right by your side.”

“I love you.” “I love you.”

You move to capture Lando’s lips in yours. It’s slow and gentle, feeling him relax as you hold the side of his face with your hand. His lips feel warm against yours and he never wants to forget this feeling, of feeling so safe and happy and like he’s truly loved. He never wants to let you go. You’re his girl. His person.

[wildesqdreams]

canceled plans, sweet love

summary - sometimes you have to experience pain again and again, even if it's caused by friends, until you find that person who would fall into tartarus for you.

pairing - percy jackson x fem!reader.

warnings - angst (not because of our man), but percy saves the day, kissing/making out.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: i wrote this in one sitting, why? because this actually happened to me. am i okay? no, i'm not... but i hope u guys like it!

you know what's the biggest problem with selfless people? they usually end up as idiots, lying in bed listening to radiohead and still WONDERING how they can make others feel better.

it was 3pm. she was supposed to be back at 7. percy knew it, so he went out skateboarding with his new colleagues that he has befriended.

y/n knew it, too. she had planned the day out. well her and her friends. a lake day, a long needed reunion, since she didn't see them for quite a while.

the thing is she was so sentimental and she was waiting when she could finally see her friends again. and as she was told, they were too. but then why did the plans suddenly change? and why did suddenly everyone have to leave 5 hours earlier than intended?

a tear rolled down her face, and she hid her face in the blanket.

god, she felt so stupid. always listening. always trying. always waiting. ALWAYS CHASING OTHERS. but in the end, being left alone like a piece of shit.

it may seem dramatic. but when all your lifetime you have been the one running after and being ditched, it just makes you feel so embarrassing and lonely. so fucking lonely.

she felt something vibrate. she reached for her phone under the pillow, hoping for some apologies, but all she got was a notification from the weather app. y/n put her phone back down on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to fall asleep. trying to run away from her clouded mind.

some minutes passed, and she heard the apartment doors open. there was some shuffling before she heard a voice yell from the foyer, "hey, baby, you're already back?!"

percy.

the girl felt the nerves in her body come back alive. how stupid. such an idiot. dumb. dumb. dumb.

"weren't you supposed to be at home much later," she heard him come to the bedroom, "not that i'm complaining or anything," percy set the keys on the cupboard in the room.

y/n just hummed.

"ey," the boy went to the bed, sitting down, where she was lying on her side. he placed his hand on her upper thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb, "did something happen?"

"no, everything is fine," she put on a small smile, as she sat up, percy's hand sliding up and down her leg, that was covered with the blanket, "so, how was your day? have fun?"

percy squeezed her thigh before putting his hand on the bed beside it, the other reaching for her hair, pushing it behind her ear, "baby," he kissed her cheek, that was stained with tears, resting his other hand on the other side of the bed, traping her between his arms, "don't lie to me."

"perce, i'm fine, really."

"then why have you been crying?"

y/n shrugged, "watched a sad movie."

"and why are you home so early?"

"got bored, decided that i wanted to leave," she tried to act unbothered, but percy could see right through her. of course he could.

"y/n," he sat closer, as he put his arms around her, "fuck em," he pulled her closer.

she tried to smile, but tears started to spill again, "again, no big deal."

she heard him sigh, "i hate when you just act like it's okay, when it's not, " he rubbed his hand up and down her back, "i just wished you had called me, i would be here in a heartbeat-"

"percy-"

"i'm serious, y/n," he pulled back, resting his hands on her cheeks, "i'm here, baby, always. i'm not gonna just throw you away. if you need me, i'm here," he rested his forehead against hers, "those idiots aren't worth your tears. gods, pretty, you deserve so much better than them."

she smiled, tears still in her eyes. the girl gave him a peck on his nose, "i'll live, i mean, i have you. that's more than i could ask for."

she felt his hands go down to her waist, lying her back down, as he climbed on top of her, giving her soft kisses on her neck, "that's right, baby. just remeber that," he trailed his lips up her neck, "don't want you forgeting what you mean to me," her hands went to his hair, as his kisses traveled up to her mouth, "i love you so much, y/n."

"i love you, perce," the boy captured her lips into a passionate kiss.

but the best thing about selfless people? they are patient enough to wait for the right people to come into their lives and make all the tears and pain be replaced with endless love.

"but really," she mumbled into the kiss, "how did it go?"

percy just laughed, "let's just say we both should just stick with each other," and with that, he placed his lips back on hers.

taglist: @pleasingregulus

[thomamaru]

Hierarchy of Intimacy (Chapter Nagi)

Synopsis: Nagi always thought it was a hassle when people in movies would sacrifice their time just to say goodbye to their loved ones. Who would risk all that just for 5 minutes for their partner? He would. (Risking everything just to see them, even if it was for 5 minutes)

Tags: Nagi Seishiro x gn!reader, fluff, nagi regretting his nonchalantness

Author notes: this is a series based on a trend of tiktok. characters that will be included is nagi, yukimiya, rin, chigiri, isagi, reo, kunigami, sae, and bachira. If you want to add a character, you can request with a prompt :) BONUS: shidou

The sound of the train's whistle echoed faintly in the distance, blending with the quiet hum of cicadas outside the open window.

You were kneeling on the floor of your bedroom, folding the last of your clothes into a suitcase. Each piece of fabric you packed carried a mix of nostalgia and bittersweet anticipation for the new life waiting for you in another state.

College, you told yourself. It was just a temporary move, seven months at most, yet it felt like the weight of a lifetime hung over your shoulders.

In contrast to your swirling emotions, Nagi Seishiro sat across the room in his usual spot on the couch, controller in hand, intensely focused on his game. His silver hair shimmered faintly in the sunlight, his usual casual slouch making him appear as relaxed as ever.

But it baffled you—this was Nagi. Your Nagi. The same clingy, sweet, sometimes overwhelmingly dependent boyfriend who would sulk if you so much as hung out with someone else for an afternoon.

Yet here he was, calm and collected, even as you prepared to leave.

You placed another neatly folded shirt into the suitcase and glanced over at him. "Sei, are you sure you'll be okay without me?"

"Mmm?" His reply came distractedly as he furiously mashed buttons, his avatar onscreen delivering a devastating combo.

"Seishiro," you called again, firmer this time, "I’m serious. You know you’ve got to take care of yourself, right? Proper meals, not just snacks. And remember to water the plants at least twice a week—oh, and don’t forget laundry days either. I already sorted the detergent by color for you."

Nagi spared you a brief glance from his game. “You’re acting like you’re leaving forever,” he mumbled, lips twitching slightly upward.

Before you could counter his teasing tone, he set down the controller, walked over, and leaned down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

"Chill. I’ll survive," he said, his warm breath tickling your skin. He pulled away with a lazy smirk and flopped back onto the couch. "It’s only seven months, right? You’ll be back before I even notice.”

You sat there for a moment, pressing your fingers to the spot where his lips had just touched.

His response was as casual and predictable as always, but for some reason, it still made your heart flutter. A chuckle escaped your lips. “You’re hopeless, Sei.”

The day passed quickly, and soon, it was time to leave. Standing by the door with your suitcase in hand, you turned to face him. “I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

“Mhm. I’ll be here,” he said, still glued to his game.

It hurt a little—his seemingly indifferent demeanor. But you brushed it off, smiled to yourself, and closed the door behind you. As you walked to the station, doubts began to creep in.

Could Nagi really live alone for seven months? Would he remember to eat, or would he just subsist on snacks? What if something happened and you weren’t there to help?

Still, you shook your head. I’m worrying too much, you told yourself. Nagi was a grown man. He could handle this. Probably.

---

The apartment door clicked shut, leaving an unsettling quiet in its wake.

Nagi sat motionless on the couch, his controller resting loosely in his hands. His eyes flicked over to the empty space near the door where your suitcase had been moments earlier.

The same spot where you’d stood, looking back at him one last time, smiling despite the worry etched across your face.

He sighed, leaning back, telling himself to brush it off. Seven months was nothing. He’d keep himself busy with games, sleep, and... well, whatever else there was to do. You’d come back before he knew it. Right?

Except, the silence hit harder than he’d expected. Without the faint shuffling of your packing, the apartment felt unnervingly still.

His gaze wandered across the room, landing on the things you’d left behind—a photo of the two of you on the shelf, your hoodie draped over the chair, a forgotten hair tie on the coffee table.

His chest tightened as a heavy realization crept over him. “You idiot,” he muttered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.

Why hadn’t he said anything more? Why hadn’t he stood up and at least walked you to the station? Why had he acted so nonchalant, like you leaving didn’t matter?

His mind replayed the moment he pressed that quick kiss to your forehead. It was supposed to be reassuring, casual—something to let you know he wasn’t worried.

But now? Now it felt like he’d let you walk out without really saying goodbye.

A pang of regret shot through him, sharp and suffocating. He’d always found goodbyes a hassle—so much drama and unnecessary energy. But this wasn’t just any goodbye. This was you. His everything.

In a rare burst of panic, Nagi shot up from the couch, throwing on the first jacket he saw. He slipped on his mismatched shoes in his rush, not even noticing as one foot found a sneaker and the other a slide sandal.

It didn’t matter. “I need to see her,” he whispered, slamming the door behind him.

---

The crisp air stung his lungs as he sprinted down the street, his legs moving faster than they ever had outside a soccer field. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d willingly run like this—certainly not for a game.

His heart pounded, not just from the exertion, but from the fear clawing at him.

What if he didn’t make it in time? What if you got on the train and disappeared from his sight for the next seven months?

The thought made his chest ache. His messy hair bounced with each frantic step as he weaved through the light crowds, muttering apologies to startled pedestrians.

I should’ve hugged her longer. I should’ve walked her out, carried her suitcase even if it was a pain. Why didn’t I tell her that I’d miss her? That I already do?

For someone who often lived in the moment, Nagi now found himself consumed by what he hadn’t done.

He couldn’t help but replay the scene of you leaving over and over, each iteration stabbing him with regret.

When the train station finally came into view, he pushed himself harder, ignoring the burn in his legs.

His mismatched shoes made running awkward, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding you before it was too late.

By the time he burst onto the platform, he was out of breath, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered. His wide eyes darted around, scanning every face in the crowd.

“Where is she...?” he muttered, his voice strained. His heart sank for a moment as he thought he might’ve been too late.

But then, his gaze landed on you, sitting by the edge of the platform, your suitcase next to you.

You were looking down at your phone, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions spiraling inside him.

Relief flooded his body, nearly making his legs give out. But he didn’t stop. With a renewed burst of energy, he called out, his voice louder than he thought possible.

“(Y/N)!”

Your head snapped up at the familiar voice, confusion etched across your face as you spotted him stumbling toward you.

His hair was disheveled, his jacket crooked, and his shoes hilariously mismatched. “Nagi?”

When he finally reached you, he doubled over, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “You—” He gasped between breaths. “You left too soon.”

You tilted your head, still baffled. “Sei, what are you doing here? I thought you—”

Before you could finish, he straightened up, cupping your face in his hands.

The sheer desperation in his expression caught you off guard. His usual sleepy eyes were wide and filled with something raw—something that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft and unsteady. “I should’ve walked you here. I should’ve... done more. I didn’t want to just sit there and let you leave like that.”

Your heart swelled at his rare display of emotion. “Seishiro…”

He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath still uneven. “I know it’s dumb. It’s only seven months. But I already miss you,” he admitted quietly.

Before you could respond, the speaker announcement echoed across the platform. “Final boarding for train 308.”

Your stomach twisted as the realization of your limited time together hit you. Still, you reached up, placing your hands over his. “I’ll miss you too,” you said softly.

He pulled back, pressing one last lingering kiss to your forehead. “Call me, okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile as you grabbed your suitcase and stepped toward the train.

Nagi stood frozen on the platform, his mismatched shoes planted firmly as he watched you board.

As the train began to pull away, you looked out the window, waving at him. He stood there, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his usual calm exterior returned.

But as the train disappeared from view, he muttered to himself again, “This sucks.”

And for the first time in a long while, Nagi truly hated the distance between him and what mattered most.

(*＾3＾)/～☆

[scoupsakakitty]

Can you do Hoshi x member of a 4th gen group please, y/n is younger than hoshi like 5 years, born in 2000s thank you!!

Five Years Apart | idol!Hoshi x idol!Reader | fluff

The sound of heels clicking against polished floors echoed down the narrow hallway. Y/N held her breath, clutching the edges of her oversized jacket, as her reflection flickered in the mirrors lining the walls. She had spent the last fifteen minutes pacing outside the rehearsal room, trying to gather enough courage to step inside.

Today wasn’t just any rehearsal. It was the day she’d be meeting Hoshi.

The Hoshi—the man whose performances had made her want to become an idol in the first place.

And now she was about to rehearse a special collaboration stage with him.

Five years. That’s how much older he was. In the industry, five years could feel like a lifetime. He debuted before she even finished middle school, and now here she was barely out of her teens trying not to look like a nervous wreck.

Before she could spiral any further, the door suddenly swung open.

“Ah—sorry!”

Y/N took a quick step back, nearly tripping as she looked up and froze.

Hoshi stood in the doorway, dressed in loose sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, his hair slightly damp as if he’d just finished practicing. His sharp eyes softened as he took in her startled expression.

“Oh,” he said, his lips curving into a grin. “You must be Y/N.”

She nodded quickly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Y-Yes! I mean… yes, Hoshi-ssi.”

His grin widened. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Hoshi.”

“I—okay, Hoshi-ssi.”

He let out a laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Close enough. Come on, let’s get started.”

Y/N followed him inside, her heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind them.

———————————————————————————-

Rehearsals went smoother than Y/N had expected mostly because Hoshi made it impossible to stay nervous for long.

He cracked jokes whenever she messed up, showing her tips and tricks instead of scolding her. He treated her like an equal, even though he was miles ahead of her in experience.

But there were moments, moments when his hand would linger a second too long on her waist while fixing their formation, or when he’d lean in just a little closer to whisper instructions that sent her pulse racing.

She told herself it was just admiration. She’d grown up watching him perform, after all. Of course she’d be flustered.

But then there was the way he looked at her.

“You’re a quick learner,” he said one evening after practice, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking a sip to avoid meeting his gaze.

“You remind me of myself, actually,” he continued.

That made her look up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back against the mirror, arms crossed as he watched her. “I was like you when I started out young, eager, always pushing myself too hard.”

Her stomach flipped at the word young. There it was again that reminder of their age gap. Five years. It wasn’t huge, but it felt significant when she was barely in her twenties, and he was already an established star.

“I guess I still feel like I have to prove myself,” she admitted.

Hoshi tilted his head. “You don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. You’re already good enough.”

Her breath caught. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

The gesture was so sudden, so intimate, that it sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re going to be amazing out there,” he said softly, his voice steady but his eyes unreadable.

And just like that, he stepped back, leaving her heart racing and her thoughts spinning.

———————————————————————————-

It was the night before their performance, and Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She sat on the rooftop of the venue, wrapped in a jacket to block out the cool night air. The city lights stretched out beneath her, but her mind was stuck on rehearsal—on him.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

She turned at the sound of Hoshi’s voice and saw him stepping onto the rooftop, hands shoved into his pockets.

“I… yeah,” she admitted as he sat down beside her.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just stared at the skyline, the silence oddly comforting.

Then Hoshi broke it.

“Do you think it’s weird?”

She looked at him. “What?”

“That I feel so…” He hesitated. “Drawn to you.”

Her heart stopped. “W-What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a small laugh. “Maybe it’s the way you remind me of myself, or how you keep surprising me every time we practice. But I look at you, and it’s like—I don’t know how to explain it.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “Hoshi, you’re—”

“Older?” He finished the sentence for her, his smile fading.

She nodded.

“Yeah, I know. Five years.” He looked down at his hands. “I thought about that too.”

She bit her lip, unsure what to say.

“But the thing is,” he continued, looking up at her, “it doesn’t feel like it matters when I’m with you.”

The air between them felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

“I know it’s probably crazy,” he added, “but I needed you to know.”

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears. “It’s not crazy,” she whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “No?”

She shook her head. “Not to me.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, he reached out and took her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.

“You make me feel like I’m starting over,” he murmured.

And just like that, the gap between them the years, the experience disappeared.

———————————————————————————-

The performance was over, but Y/N’s heart was still racing as if she were standing under the blinding stage lights. Applause and cheers echoed in her ears, but all she could focus on was him.

Hoshi stood just a few feet away, drenched in sweat but smiling brighter than the spotlights. He caught her gaze, and in that instant, the crowd disappeared.

“You did it,” he mouthed, his lips curling into that familiar grin.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. She wanted to say something back, but before she could, their manager ushered her away toward her waiting group members.

Even surrounded by people, she felt the absence of his presence beside her.

Later that night, Y/N stood in the dimly lit hallway outside the dressing rooms, nervously twisting the fabric of her jacket. She wanted to see him needed to see him but doubts gnawed at her.

What if she had imagined everything? The looks, the lingering touches, the way his words had made her feel like she was the only person in the room?

Before she could turn and leave, the door opened, and there he was.

“Y/N?”

Her breath caught. “Hoshi.”

He leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening as he took her in. “You’re still here?”

“I… wanted to talk to you.”

“Me too.” He stepped out, letting the door close behind him. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

———————————————————————————-

The rooftop was quiet, just like the night before, but this time, the air felt heavier. Charged.

Hoshi leaned against the railing, his hands gripping the cold metal as he looked out over the glittering city.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he began, his voice steady but low. “About how I feel when I’m with you.”

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding. “And what exactly do you feel?”

He turned to her then, his gaze intense. “Like I can’t stop thinking about you. Like every time I see you smile, it’s the best part of my day.”

Her breath hitched.

“But I keep asking myself if it’s fair. To you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so young, Y/N. You’re just starting out, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

She stepped closer, her voice trembling but firm. “You’re not holding me back. If anything, you make me want to be better.”

Hoshi exhaled sharply, as if he’d been holding his breath. “You really mean that?”

She nodded. “I don’t care about the age gap. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I just…” She paused, searching for the right words. “I just want to be with you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, suddenly, he closed the distance between them, his hands cupping her face as he looked down at her.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“I want to be with you.”

And before she could say anything more, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was soft at first hesitant, as if testing the waters but it quickly deepened, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into that single moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

“I guess there’s no turning back now,” Hoshi murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Good,” Y/N whispered. “I don’t want to turn back.”

———————————————————————————-

[shomatoriashi]

7/30/24: 11:15am

yandere!sung jinwoo x fem.reader

{ request - oneshot }

- the academy arc -

@nyashykyunnie asked: KYUNNIE COMING IN CLUTCH AND SHALL DO A REQ BECAUSE BLESS UR SOUL FOR LETTING ME DO A REQ!!! MWAHHHHH!!! Hmo... Childhood friend reader x Jinwoo who went back in time >;3. He was always the chill typea boy best friend but ever since bby had puberty and became tall n hot he suddenly became... A little more posessive hehehehehehe. And what Jinwoo doesnt know is reader is secretly transmigrated and was his biggest fangirl for a long time and instead of being scared of Yandere!Woo they giggle at his murderous spree when she discovers that woowoo is going yandere over her heheheh Otherwise, go crazy bby>:3

warnings: unedited; petty bullying; violence; blood mention; gore; body horror; possessive and obsessive behavior

disclaimers: i do not condone such behaviors in real life; since this is purely a work of fiction, anything goes and i am willing to portray this creatively in the best way possible.

you are 5 years old, and your parents just moved into a quaint apartment complex. they were excited to be able to live in a space that they could call their own while surrounded by friendly neighbors.

as you busied yourself with your sketchbook, drawing ocean waves with colorful fishes swimming in them with your crayons, you heard a knock at the door. your ears perk up at the sound, and just as you were about to answer it, your father stops you with a stern expression. he calls out your name before gently reminding you, “what did papa tell you about opening doors? you should always let your mama or papa answer first, okay?”

you twist at the strands of your hair while pouting at him, giving your father a hesitant nod before following him to the front door. you hid your face behind the back of your father’s legs, eyes peeking curiously forward the moment he unlocks the door.

settled directly before you was a family that seemed to tower over you. you saw what looked like a tall young man and woman greeting your dad with kind smiles. in the woman’s arms was a baby wrapped in blankets, but what perhaps caught your attention was a little boy that hid himself behind his mother’s legs.

with your fascination growing with each second that passes, you slowly move away from your father’s legs while the little boy does the same. his grey eyes seemed to take you in, the blush dyeing his pale cheeks a rosier hue as the woman gently calls out to him, “jinwoo, go on and talk to her. she’s the same age as you, and i’m sure you’ll have fun.”

with his mother’s permission, the boy (jinwoo, it’s such a nice name), gives her a nod before standing before you, taking a hold of your hand. “wanna play together?”

you give him an eager nod, leading him to the floor of your living room as you showed him your sketchpad and the various drawings you had. as you turned the pad to a fresh page, you shyly offer your crayons to jinwoo, asking him if he’d like to draw anything. he gives you a smile while eagerly nodding at you.

and just a few moments later, when your father and jinwoo’s parents enter your home, they would see two giggling kids drawing while laying flat on their stomachs, basking in their imaginations all while knowing that this was a friendship that would last a lifetime-

you and jinwoo would become inseparable ever since that fateful day.

{ … }

days go by, quickly turning into weeks as the weeks slowly morphed into months while the months carried the ever changing seasons leading up to the new year-

and you found yourself here, 10 years later, ready to begin your first year of high school. you look at your reflection, adjusting the ribbon settled on your collar while brushing back your hair. you had plans of leaving your apartment 15 minutes ago-

however, jinwoo specifically told you to wait for him; that he was the one that would walk you to and from school as an extra means of protection (whatever that meant.) as you look at your clock settled on your desk, seeing how close it was to being 8am, you let out a huff and began marching out of your room-

only for your face to come into contact with a hard wall of muscle, earning a gasp from you. massaging at the slight ache felt against your nose, you look up to see jinwoo smiling down at you, already standing at nearly 6 feet despite only being 15 years old. a smirk graces his features when you feel him playfully flick at your nose, “ready to head to school?”

you grumble when he teases you, ready to walk ahead of him when he wraps his arms around your waist. he keeps you close to him, making your eyes go wide when he walks out of the apartment with you. he sees your mother doing the dishes and announces your departure, earning a knowing smile from her, “have a good day at school you two!”

before you could answer, jinwoo closes the door, a strange, dark look crossing over his expression as you trembled a bit in response. he shoves a hand in his pocket, using his other hand to hold onto yours as he interlocks them together. you take note of his expression and ask, “are you okay? you seem… upset.”

his expression immediately changes, eyes going back to its normal hue of grey when he looks back at you all while playfully ruffling your hair. “i’m fine, no need to worry your pretty little head over me.”

jinwoo then proceeds to annoy you, making kissy faces at you as he tries to get closer to you. you end up laughing while struggling to maintain your balance on the sidewalk, noticing how he still kept his gloved hand hidden within the pockets of his coat. admittedly, you had some anxiety pertaining to your first day of high school, yet with jinwoo’s constant teasing and jokes, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable as time passed.

arriving at your high school, jinwoo remains close to you, standing in the midst of a crowd of student while interlocking his fingertips with yours. as you stood together, ready to enter the school and start your day, you became achingly aware of several girls excited whispers. from your periphery, you notice the way they point their perfectly manicured nails at him.

“hey, he’s cute…”

“and so tall too…”

“ugh, why is he with such a plain girl though? don’t tell me they’re dating?!”

“no way! i’m sure she’s his pathetic best friend or something! hehe, i bet she gets friendzoned by him all the time.”

you purse your lips at the sounds of their giggles and harsh words, yet jinwoo squeezes your hand in yet another reassuring manner, moving slightly forward to block your view of them. you give him a grateful smile, seeing jinwoo meet your gaze before giving you a wink.

when the bell rings, you and jinwoo both enter the school together, ready to begin your first day. despite being in different classes, jinwoo was adamant in walking you to your class, frowning all the way. as you stand in front of the classroom, jinwoo places a hand on your shoulders, eyes seemingly glowing when he tells you, “if anyone dares give you any trouble at all, you tell me, okay?”

you giggle and awkwardly shuffle your feet from side to side, “i think i’ll be alright, jinwoo… but, thank you for your concern.”

he returns your smile with a strained one, ready to head back to his own class as he never once looked away from you. only when he disappears into the corner of the hallway did you let out a shaky breath.

surely, you had nothing to worry about, right?

you were bound to have a completely normal day at school, right…?

{ … }

and oh, how wrong your assumptions were!

you had barely finished the day, ready to meet jinwoo for lunch when your exit was blocked off by another student. she was a haughty girl that wore an expensive, ruby pendant that was shaped in a delicate rose while hanging by a thin, golden chain. it was clear that her family had money, as she was dressed in all the accessories and clothes that seemed to accentuate the beauty of her silvery blonde hair and startling green eyes-

a beauty that was used to getting what she wanted-

and a girl that shared your class.

you didn’t bother to know or even recall her name, since all she did was increase your anxieties with her mere presence alone.

“i see you walk into school today with what has to be the hottest guy in our class. so what’s a mousy little thing like you doing with a gorgeous guy like him?”

bile was felt rising up the confines of your throat as you held your sketchbook closer to your chest. the girl sneers at you, already reaching out a hand to snatch away at your sketchbook. you gasp, trying to get it back from her as you felt the tears dot your vision. “please, give that back! that sketchbook means a lot to me!”

buried within those pages were various sketches and stories that you and jinwoo shared, and if she were to ruin them, then all would be lost to you. you watch as her green eyes flash with malicious intent, already opening up your sketchbook as she idly flipped through the pages with a bored expression on her face.

it was when she flips to a random page that she sees the various sketches of jinwoo you had kept, her smile suddenly widening as she tore off the page and folded it, placing it within the confines of her pocket. “now this i can keep. as for the rest…”

her feign sigh of reluctance was all you could hear when she began ripping the rest of the pages out of your sketchbook, tearing up the pages into as many tiny shreds her hands could handle before tossing them up into the air, allowing the torn pages to fall like flower petals in the wind.

by now, your tears blinded you, making you fall to your knees as your heart broke with each torn page that lands on the ground. your breathing became uneven as the girl lets out a tiny “oops!” in response, finally walking away from you while tossing aside her silky hair.

you had no idea how much time you spent gathering the pages in the empty hallway, already knowing that lunch was nearing its end. as you were so focused on picking up the torn pieces of your sketchbook, you were unaware of heavy footsteps approaching you, calling out your name.

“hey, what are you doing? lunch is almost over-“

upon recognizing jinwoo’s voice, you allow your teary eyes to meet with his gaze, seeing them darken before flashing purple. “who did this to you?”

he ignores the ruined sketchbook and focuses his attention on you. picking up your shivering form, jinwoo places your face against his chest, allowing the front of his jacket to soak up all of your tears. several seconds pass when you were finally able to tell him what had happened. “it’s just… i-i wanted to meet you, b-but a girl in my class stopped me from going to you. s-she was mad that i was with you this morning and… she… she tore up my sketchbook while keeping my sketch of you.”

jinwoo’s hands stopped threading through your hair when he lowly asks, “who is she? what’s her name?”

you tremble upon hearing the dark tone of his voice and admit with a shaky sigh, “i don’t know her name… i just know that she’s pretty, with silvery hair and green eyes.”

jinwoo hums at this new information, keeping your face pressed against his chest to hide his expression of sheer rage from you.

soon, you wouldn’t have to deal with such trash like this ever again.

{ … }

you had filled 240 total pages inside of your precious sketchbook-

(jinwoo knew this since he was the one who religiously asked to see each drawing, read each story, painted within those pages)

and for all those 240 pages that had been so callously ripped out from your sketchbook, he had cut park yeon a total of 240 times with his daggers.

it was easy to lure her to him after school. jinwoo had made up an excuse to you about needing to talk to the coach and sign up for track, reassuring you to go home first and that he’ll text you later. with you out of sight and in the safety of your home, he then works on luring yeon to him.

her green eyes were blazing with a possessive hunger for him, following him with little question to the back of the school. he recalls the way yeon fuels his rage by telling him how she was made for him; how she was all he could ever need.

needless to say, she didn’t get a chance to speak further the moment jinwoo slices through her throat, cutting off her vocal cords as he began his revenge on her.

the night air was thick with the scent of blood when he looks down at the girl’s now lifeless body. his glowing eyes manages to dim down, his anger and fury now dying down to a simmer of annoyance as he now had a body to deal with. before he calls upon his soldiers to take care of the evidence, jinwoo’s eyes take sight of the glittering, rose pendant hanging loosely from the girl’s neck, a smirk gracing his features when he leans down to carefully release its clasps from her neck as he held the gorgeously crafted necklace within the palm of his hand.

{ … }

park yeon was not in class this morning, and you briefly wondered what had happened to her-

yet perhaps more-so than that was jinwoo’s sudden absence as well. feeling more concerned about your best friend, you recall how this morning, jinwoo’s mother had told you he had already gone to class, having an early meeting with the track team-

yet when you tried searching for him, he was nowhere to be found.

you check back on your phone when you ultimately decided to make your trek back to class, seeing no reply from jinwoo. letting out a sigh, you enter class and sit at your desk. as you worked on getting out your notebook from your desk was when you felt something cold against the palm of your hand.

your eyebrows were furrowed when you manage to pull out whatever lay deep within the confines of your desk-

only to see a ruby rose pendant covered in dried flecks of blood.

your mouth goes dry at the sight, making you swallow thickly before a wide grin paints your features.

sheer giggles of delight were heard coming from your parted lips as you held in your hand the same pendant that bitch had flaunted when she tore apart your sketchbook. grateful that no one was around, you continued to laugh, never once stopping as you cradled the necklace close to your chest.

jinwoo had done something about it after all!

and you couldn’t have been happier.

of course, you knew about him and his deepest secret.

you knew that he was the shadow monarch and had somehow reversed time to save the world-

you knew of how the two years he went missing was to take on the monarchs by himself-

and you knew that you had his heart within the very palms of your hand, for he had held yours since the very beginning.

back when you were a mere civilian and he had saved you from beasts that escaped the gates-

back when all you could see was himhimhimhim!

and now, that same man was all yours; with fate somehow placing you within his life the moment your parents had moved into the same apartment complex he had lived in all those years ago…

and now, he would never leave your side so long as you played your cards right.

forcing yourself to calm down, you adjust your blouse and put on the necklace, allowing the blood stained rose to settle against your collarbone as you hid the pendant with the fabric of your blouse. once it was all buttoned up, you adjust your blazer and smiled innocently at your classmates that started to walk in while your phone was felt vibrating against your desk. sliding open the screen, you smile when you saw a text from him:

[ my monarch 👑: sorry i wasn’t able to walk you to school today, i wanted my gift to you to be perfect. let’s meet up for lunch later, and i’ll give you a brand new, leather bound sketchbook to make up for the one you lost :) ]

[ you: that’s okay, my love! i look forward to seeing you again. thank you for the gift, i love you ♡ ]

[ my monarch 👑: i love you, too. always. ]

smiling at your phone’s screen, you give jinwoo’s profile picture a light kiss, all too eager to see him again when you dutifully turned your gaze forward and began taking notes, doing your best to hide your smirk when your teacher questions park yeon’s absence.

end notes: this feels like the most, true to genre yandere story i have ever written and i am so sorry for this, especially if it’s not my best work 😭🙏🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[hereforhalstead]

home.

Spencer Reid x reader fluff!

thank you SO much for the love on my first post, I’m so glad you liked it! Ill be honest, I started this with a completely different plot in mind but, here we are! Enjoy!

*****

5 days. That’s all it had been, but to him it felt like a lifetime. 

The more he thought about it, he realised, it was the longest you’d ever been apart.

You’d been asked to stay for a week in London with Garcia and Morgan to assist on a case that Emily so lovingly emailed over late last week. 

One minute it simply words on a screen in your inbox, the next you knew you were on a plane over the Atlantic.

Every night you and Spencer had spent as much time as possible on the phone, some evenings only getting 5 minutes but others being hours. But it still wasn’t enough.

You missed him. More than ever.

The case was tough and starting to take its toll on you, it felt never ending and you started to wonder when you’d actually be able to return to the place you called home.

The truth is, London was your actual home. Being born and raised there until your early 20s when you transferred over to the BAU unit and the rest was history.

Yes, it was nice to be back in familiar territories. Moaning about tourists blocking the pavements, stopping every 2 minutes to take photos of a bird sitting on a fence..

 The god awful weather still going strong as you were now on your 5th day of rain, wondering if you would actually see a glimpse of sun before you left.

But home wasn’t London anymore, it was wherever Spencer was. 

And he wasn’t here. 

****

You’d taken the papers back to your hotel room, the sheets all spread across the floor in a disorganised manner yet you still knew where everything was and that worked for you.

You were still in the same clothes that you had put on about 26 hours ago, cold coffee in hand, staring at the black text on the papers as if the answer would just jump out at you if you continued to do so.

Your phone ringing is what brought you out of your trance, letting out a loud yawn before answering it.

“How’s my favourite girl?”

Was all he said and it had you melting, bringing your knees to your chest as you leant back onto the bed.

“Hey Spence” you mumbled back, you could practically hear his smile on the other end of the line forming, just at the sound of your voice. 

“What time is it there?” You added 

“about 2 ish” 

Shit. That meant it was 6am for you, and you didn’t even realise. 

High praise for the blackout curtains in the room I suppose.

“And you’re still awake?” Your voice was sturn

“So are you?” He hit back. Fair play.

“I could’ve just woken up, you don’t know”

But he did. He knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“This is me you’re talking to baby, do you want me to hang up and ring back so you can see my name on the screen again?” 

Again, you could practically see how he would be sitting. Arm folded across his chest, either book still open in one hand or a hot cup of tea hooked onto his thumb. Smile as big as could be.

“Point taken” you mumbled 

“Tell me about your day” he was quick to respond, you hated yourself for how there was a quick second of the feeling that you couldn’t be bothered. 

You were exhausted and missing him.

You didn’t want to be talking to him over the phone about the same thing you’d been discussing with endless people all day. 

You wanted to be back at home, enveloped in his arms as he pulls you back into him as you try to leave the bed.

Or running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he tells you yet another fact about how despite its significance, London was actually the smallest city in the UK.

You missed the little things, you missed him.

“Y/N?” His voice broke the silence as you sighed, words leaving your lips before you had a chance to even process them 

“I miss you, Spencer” 

There was yet another pause, almost a huff coming from his end of the line as he replied

“I miss you too, sweetheart” 

“Spence, honestly I’m drained” you began to ramble 

“I’ve been staring at these same pieces of paper for days, I’m starting to think I’m just wasting their time being here”

He could hear you throw some of the documents onto the floor, bringing your hand to your forehead to relieve some of the tension.

“He’s killed 5 women since I’ve been here Spencer, 5. How useless am I that these women are literally depending on me and here i am, failing them” 

He was hurting, he was hurting because you were hurting. 

“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that” he assured, you could feel tour bottom lip quiver as the tears formed in your eyes 

“You know they asked you to be over there for a reason, you’re good at your job. You deserve to be there with the best of them and don’t forget that” 

“But I do-“ you tried to cut him off but he was quick to interject “uh uh”

“I will stay on this phone with you until you can tell me you’re good at your job, I don’t care how long it takes, Y/N. I want to hear you say it”

“What about if I don’t say if, just to get you to stay on the phone with me?” You lightly chuckled, heart fluttering as you hear his huff of laughter you so dearly missed.

“I mean, I have to be on the jet in 6 hours so if you’re happy for the whole team to hear our conversation then that works for me”

“Spence, I just feel as though I’m losing my mind. Tell me what I’m missing” you almost pleaded, knowing that if he was here he probably would have this case solved by now and back on the plane home. 

“You know the most important thing? Honestly, it’s what I do all the time and it truly does work”

You sat up in hope, waiting to hear his groundbreaking methods of solution.

“Sleep, Y/N”

You huffed, returning to your hunched back, cross legged position of defeat.

“That’s not fair” you scorned, his light laugh flooding through your ears “I thought you were actually about to help” 

“I mean it sweetheart, you can’t give your best to something on no sleep. I’m worried about you and if I can’t be there to look after you, I need to know that you’re looking after you” 

His words hurt, you knew he was worried but never thought he would just come right out and tell you.

“Fine” you huffed, crooking your neck to keep the phone in place at your ear as you start to get undressed.

“I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll get into  bed” you assured “then I’ll text you in the morning with how many hours sleep I had”

You waited to hear his laugh but there was nothing.

“Can I ju-“ his tone was filled with doubt, like he was second guessing what he was about to say 

You let the line go quiet, waiting for him to finish his thoughts 

“Can I just stay on the phone with you?” 

You felt as though your legs could give way at the pain in his voice, the desperation to just have more time with you had you filling with guilt.

“Of course, Spence”

There was a hum of happiness and content, practically seeing how he slumped back into the headboard of the bed in the comfort of your words

“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” You questioned, giving up on the idea of the shower as you climbed into bed

“Oh! Funny story actually. Hotch had….”

There it was, the voice of such piece and familiarity that you so badly missed. 

He was your home.

[n0cturn4]

In every universe

1.

-"Did you know you’re my favorite part of the day?"

- "Really? And why’s that?"

- "Because when I’m with you, the world just feels… right."

2.

- "You know what I like most about you?"

- "What?"

- "Everything I never knew I was looking for."

3.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?"

- "Because I’m trying to understand how someone can be this amazing."

4.

- "When did you realize you liked me?"

- "When I realized that any place with you was where I wanted to be."

5.

- "Do you have any idea how happy you make me?"

- "I hope it’s as much as you make me."

6.

- "Promise you’ll never leave?"

- "I don’t know what’s harder… leaving you or promising to stay forever, knowing I’d never want to go."

7.

- "I love the peace you bring me."

- "And I love knowing that I’m your safe place."

8.

- "Why are you smiling like that?"

- "Because I realized that just looking at you feels like home."

9.

- "Do you think we’ll find each other in other lives?"

- "If it’s up to me, I’ll find you in every one of them."

10.

- "What do you want me to do for you?"

- "I want you to stay just the way you are. You’re already everything."

11.

- "If you could wish for anything right now, what would it be?"

- "I’d wish for one more minute with you… and then another, and another…"

12.

- "You know you make me kind of nervous, right?"

- "But is that good or bad?"

- "It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

13.

- "Tell me, what did you see in me?"

- "I saw exactly what I needed… someone who makes me want to be better."

14.

- "Why do we fit so well together?"

- "Because I’m the calm, and you’re the storm I love facing."

15.

- "Why are you so special to me?"

- "Maybe because you see me, even when I try to hide."

16.

- "Did you know I miss you even when we’re together?"

- "Why?"

- "Because I know that when the day ends, I’ll have to let you go… even if it’s just until tomorrow."

17.

- "What am I to you?"

- "You’re the one person who somehow became everything to me."

18.

- "Do I make you happy?"

- "Happy isn’t enough… you make my heart feel at peace."

19.

- "What if one day we drift apart?"

- "Then I’ll find a way to fall in love with you all over again."

20.

- "If you could change anything about me, what would it be?"

- "Nothing. Every detail about you is exactly what makes my heart race."

21.

- "Do you ever think about the day we met?"

- "All the time. It was the beginning of everything I didn’t know I was waiting for."

22.

- "If I could, I’d capture every moment with you in a jar."

- "And what would you do with it?"

- "Open it on the days when I need to feel your presence close."

23.

- "Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed you."

- "And what if you did?"

- "Then I’d choose to never wake up."

24.

- "Do you realize how bright you make my world?"

- "Then let me be your light, even in the darkest hours."

25.

- "What is it that keeps you coming back to me?"

- "It’s like the tide and the shore—I’m drawn to you endlessly, without reason or question."

26.

- "Do you ever worry that one day you’ll stop loving me?"

- "I worry that there won’t be enough lifetimes to love you as much as you deserve."

27.

- "Tell me, if you could choose one place to be, where would it be?"

- "In the space between your heartbeat and mine."

28.

- "Why do you look at me like that?"

- "Because every time I look, I see a new kind of beautiful in you."

29.

- "What’s the first thing you think of when you wake up?"

- "How lucky I am that you’re in my life… and that you’re real."

30.

- "Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you."

- "Maybe. But if you’re here, it means the universe has been kind."

31.

- "What would you do if one day I was gone?"

- "I’d search for you in every star, every breeze, every memory we made."

32.

- "Why do you love me?"

- "Because you’re the poem I could spend a lifetime writing and never finish."

33.

- "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we’d never met?"

- "A little less bright, a little less real. You’re the reason my heart believes in magic."

34.

- "What do you see when you look at me?"

- "I see every answer to every question I never knew I had."

35.

- "Do you feel the same way I do?"

- "If love had a sound, it would be the way my heart beats whenever you’re near."

36.

- "What do you think we are?"

- "Two souls who were always meant to find each other, no matter how many lifetimes it took."

37.

- "How do you know you love me?"

- "Because even in silence, being with you feels like home."

38.

- "If love could be seen, what would ours look like?"

- "Like the ocean meeting the sky—endless, beautiful, and impossible to contain."

39.

- "Do you think you’ll ever tire of me?"

- "Only if a flower tires of blooming toward the sun."

40.

- "How do you feel when we’re apart?"

- "As if I’m waiting to breathe, holding my heart until I see you again."

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗

pt 2 of do you like the way the water tastes?

eddie x fem!reader

summary: eddie walks you home but doesn’t do what you expect, when you try to confront him it doesn’t go as planned.

Your work shoes were rubbing at your ankles, friction from the water and the inability to never really feel dry after spending the afternoon at the pool, prevalent on your reddening skin. 

  But you could care less. 

  Eddie and you had been walking home in small awkward silence for the last ten minutes. Every once in a while his boot would crack a rock down the sidewalk and you’d kick it back to him, playing again, like children. 

  The silly boy at the pool with you was now being coy, rosy cheeks hiding behind a curtain of curls when your knuckles brushed his while you walked. 

  He clears his throat a few times, maybe the chlorine was making his throat scratchy? Or possibly his bravado fell once the two of you were alone?

  Either way, you focused on the way his fingers went to his mouth to bite the nail in a nervous habit, the click of his tongue ring on the back of his front teeth in another little routine for him. The noise makes your belly burn. so you break the ice.

  You bump into his shoulder, one hand twirling the ends of your hair, the other taking advantage of the heated skim of his skin on yours, “really had me fooled at Benny’s.” 

  he chuckles quickly, exasperating a small snort that he covers with a cough, “ ‘m sorry, probably should have said something better than that— just thought you’d like to ditch work and swim with me— I mean us.” The pretty blush creeps across his cheeks again and you can’t help but grin. 

  “Well,” you joke, stretching an olive branch out to him, “I’m glad your sick little plan worked.” 

  The heat creeps up to his ears and he chances to look down at you. Your smile widens and his gaze has you turning away, suddenly sheepish. 

  His eyes never leave you, but his better judgment stops him from grabbing your hand.  “yeah,” he manages, hot tongue licking his own lips. Daring to stare at the way the sun catches on the slope of your nose and sweat beads on your cupid’s bow, “lucky me.” 

  —

  “No kiss or anything?” Stella squeals through the end of your phone a week later. 

  Eddie had walked you all the way to the door of your apartment building. The small talk was sweet along the way, and you thought when he paused on his way to leave and looked at your lips that he would lean into a kiss. 

  But he never did. And you felt stupid. 

  Surely he’d ask for your number? 

  But he didn’t do that either.

  Instead he leaned into the door frame, ghosted his nose along your chin and whispered into your ear, the same clink of his tongue ring on his teeth, “see you around, sweetheart.” 

  What probably took a matter of 5 seconds lingered on your skin for hours. His smell; all chlorine and cigarettes. The way his cheeks burned in a crimson tinged tan from the sun. 

  It was intoxicating. 

  Addicting. 

  And you were left confused. He had almost kissed you at the pool… so why was he shy when you were alone? And even worse, silent. 

  “Nancy Drew couldn’t crack this case,” you explained to your best friend, “I thought we would… I don’t know.. go out? Maybe sneak a kiss?” 

  You were annoying yourself. Why was this bothering you so bad? It’s not as if you had a ton of boyfriends in your lifetime, but you knew when someone was flirting. 

  And Eddie Munson was laying on the charm, hot and heavy. 

  “Maybe he has a girlfriend?” Stella quipped, “maybe he was just letting you down easy?” 

  Sweet Stella was always so genuine, she'd tell it to you straight but deliver it in sugary goodness. And even though she was sweet the words cut you like a knife. 

  “Fuck, who knows, I gotta go… see you at work?” 

  She says her goodbyes and you slam the receiver down, the ding satisfying to your ears. 

  Was Eddie playing you? Your stomach twists at the thought and you nearly kick yourself for letting him get the best of you. You didn’t even know him enough to be this upset. 

  Pushing him out of your mind the best you could for the rest of the afternoon you wait tables, pocketing next to nothing in tips because you won’t crack a smile. Coffee stains your apron, and ketchup coats the toe of your shoe, the smell making you gag in disgust. 

  Anything and everything that could go wrong at work did. At least to you. Stella and Dawn seemed to be having a great shift but you were brooding in your own head about the audacity Eddie Munson had to not even call, or have the balls to tell you that he wasn’t interested. 

  Being led on was worse than rejection. And this stung horribly, wedging the stinger into your chest further with every huff of annoyance you let out. 

  Stella’s smile cheers you up, her uniform cinching her curves in all the right ways, her pockets nearly bursting with loose change and folded bills in tips.

  “Maybe he’s shy?” She says over a shared cigarette in the back near closing time, her brain had been working overtime trying to make you feel better. 

  Shrugging your shoulders you scoot onto the plastic bucket you’ve used as a chair since starting at Benny’s junior year. “I dunno Stell, I feel like a giant fucking loser.” 

  It was true, you hadn’t heard anything from him since he walked you home. You even made an embarrassing call to Gareth to see if you would bring Eddie up. But he never did. You were annoyed with yourself for giving a shit when clearly he didn’t. 

  “Well how about this,” she says sliding down next to you, “I’ll close up tonight and you go home and rest. No sense in feeling like shit  and being at this dump .” 

  —

  The drive back to your apartment is short, and hot, the air conditioning that hasn’t worked all summer in your car suddenly driving you mad.  The old radio that fuzzed and only came clear in one station decided to quit indefinitely right in the middle of your favorite song. 

  Before the transmission is thrown into park, you’re on the verge of screaming, and when the key sticks in the ignition you slam your hands into the steering wheel. Could this day get any worse? 

  Frustration brews when you finally finagle the key just right so it pops out of the vice and your elbow catches the dash, hard. The last straw. 

Smoldering tears well in your eyes, but you swallow them down. And it’s in that moment that you decide you need answers right the fuck now. 

  —

  Forest Hills Trailer Park was on the outskirts of town, nestled up against a vast, thick tree line. You didn’t know which trailer was his, taking a chance on a tan one that had a van parked out front that looked similar to his. Only to be embarrassed beyond belief when an old lady with missing teeth and tight curlers cursed you out for interrupting Oprah, a slam of her shitty screen door in your face. 

  Stomping down the steps you narrowly avoid a nail on the second step. Causing you to lose your balance and topple over into barely-there grass covered lawn. Face first into the dirt.

  Great. 

  The drag of soil  and the pull of grass snapping from the earth rings into your ears and shoves under your nails as you scrape your hands on the yard of lot 11, pushing yourself up. 

  The first rogue tear slides down your dirty face and you don’t even bother to wipe it away. Simply shifting to sit on your butt while you dust gingerly at the gravel and fresh blood from your knees. 

  You were wrong before: today could get worse. Much worse. Coffee, ketchup, grass and dirt all paint your work uniform. You were a mess. A pissed off, mess. 

  You hear your name in a question. And when you look up there he is. The one you had been searching for. Standing above you with a concerned expression, trying hard to hide a grin. He’s wearing a bandana around his head, the pungent smell of grease and sticky oil wafts to you when the wind picks up and he gets closer, a socket wrench gripped lazily in his hand. 

  The dirt on your cheek and bits of twigs stuck in your hair only add to the messy glamor of how you already looked. But Eddie can’t help but stare, the same heat in his cheeks and swimming in his stomach from the day at the pool when you look up at him, tears ready to fall. 

  “Didn’t know Miss Jeanie had a granddaughter,” he says with a slight tease, “thought she was too damn mean to ever be married.” 

  When the scowl set on your face didn't budge he changed his tone, shifting his weight from laid back and almost cocky with a hip out to standing like he was getting scolded. Both feet locked in place and his head down, shoulders sagged, peeking at you through his bangs, he stammers, “a—are you okay?” 

  A loud sniff leaves your body as you shove yourself up from the ground, not seeing the hand Eddie threw out to help you, “yeah,” you spit, wincing slightly as the bend in your knees stretches open the broken skin, “just peachy, I try to spend my Saturdays falling down the steps of some rickety ass trailer in hopes of avoiding a nail through my foot.” 

  Eddie only stares, mouth set in confusion as he tries to think of a quick reply, something witty, maybe something to make you laugh, but you don’t give him the time. 

  Turning on your heel, you stumble over a rock but catch yourself. Again, not seeing the way Eddie had ran forward with an outstretched hand to help. You’ve never been more mad and embarrassed in your entire life, and all you wanted to do was get the hell out of here. 

  It’s not until you have the door of your car open does Eddie register what he wanted to say, “what are you doing here?”

  It comes out wrong, accusing compared to the way he thought it would fall flirty from his lips. And you’re stunned, the tears falling freely now. 

  “Fuck, I mean— shit—” he stutters through his explanation, tongue tied and twisting in on itself, “n—not like ‘what are you doing here?’ but…” embarrassment works up his neck and hides on the tips of his ears, “I—I meant, Uhh— shit, d’ you need a band aid?” 

  The tears make clean streaks down your face and you wipe at them angrily. “N-o I don’t need a f-frickin’ bandaid, Eddie!” You needed a hot bath, a nap, a fucking cigarette; anything but this frustratingly awkward conversation with you resembling a bum and Eddie looking like a Greek Mechanic God.

  “Well, you’re bleeding,” he emphasizes and points to the bloody scrapes on your knees. 

  You knew they were bleeding, they stung and burned with each step you took, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of helping you out. 

  “I’m f—fine,” you stutter.

  “Shh, c’mon sweet girl,” Eddie says, closing the steps between you both and shutting your car door, his forefinger curled to catch a tear from dripping down your cheek, “lemme clean y’ up and then you can tell me what brought this cute little face down to the slums.” 

  You had come here to give him a piece of your mind, demand to know why he was so hot and cold. Instead you had made a fool out of yourself, and were a blubbering mess. 

  —

  Eddie’s trailer was the one next door to Miss Jeanie’s. Misjudging the yard his van was parked in as hers, you silently kick yourself as you follow him up the three steps leading inside. 

  His trailer is welcoming in a young bachelor type of way. Comforting outdated trinkets, guitar amps and cords strewn across the surfaces— keeping the dust and empty beer cans company.

  “Sorry,” he says, picking up some beer cans and tossing them into the trash, “roommates a slob, have a seat Uhh— wherever,” he says gesturing around with his hands and disappearing down a narrow hallway. 

  You look around and take a seat at the table, “didn’t know you had a roommate,” you call out, looking around the small cluttered living space. Tapes and magazines cover the small table along with a faded green homemade ashtray filled almost to the rim. 

  Eddie comes bounding back down the hallway, carrying a small first aid kit and a washcloth, “I don’t,” he quips, delivering a wink that has your stomach somersaulting. And when he notices the heat rise on your cheeks, he gives you a toothy smile in an attempt to hide his own blush. 

  And it was like no time had passed. Like he hadn’t been avoiding you for a week, but rather that you were still swimming in the cool blue water of the pool, kissed by the warmth of the sun and his arms around you when he pulled you in. 

  His thumbs trace the edges of the kit in a nervous habit, “Alright, let's take a look at those knees,” he looks from you to the kitchen counter, “do you uh.. here—” with a sweep of his arm he shoves the magazines and scattered tapes in a dusty cardboard box and tossed it on the table, “sit up here.” 

  Quirking an eyebrow at him, you give him a puzzled expression, which he answers with a laugh, “Dr. Munson needs to be able to see what he’s doing.” 

  For the first time since arriving in the trailer park, you let out a small smile, “doctor huh?” you question hoisting yourself onto the counter. 

  Eddie works beside you filling a bowl with warm water, “shyeah, I’m the band's primary caregiver,” he explains in a mockery tone, “even gave myself stitches a few years back after hiding from the cops when Jeff’s party got busted.” 

  He extends his pale arm towards you brandishing the silvery crook of a scar on his forearm, “twelve stitches, not the prettiest thing but it did the job.” 

  The air of your giggle was exactly what he was looking for, and his dimples dip into his cheeks with a smirk, hiding behind uncombed curls. 

  Thick fingers open the lid to the kit and he pulls out the old packages of gauze and bandages. Dipping a washcloth into the warm water he whistles a tune you haven’t heard, wringing the cloth out, the water splashes gently into the bowl. 

  He glanced over at your cut knees and winced, “not gonna lie to you, ‘s gonna hurt like hell.” 

  Nodding with a sniffle you quietly say, “I’ve had scraped knees before… doctor.” The grin he tried to hide spreads and tickles the corners of his eyes. 

  “Just want my favorite patient comfortable,” he says leaning into the joke.

  “Favorite or only?”

  His laugh is loud and boisterous, a thousand leagues away from his gentle touch on the delicate raw skin as he presses the cloth carefully around the scrapes and cleans the wound. 

  “Both,” he says, looking up at you through the thick black weeds of his lashes, holding your gaze for a second longer than he should have, pushing the limits. “Ya gonna tell me what you were doin’ playing in the dirt by my trailer or should I guess?”

  “I— I was,” you think quick of a lie, but you almost tremble when his head lowers and his curls tickle the tops of your bare thighs, the feeling sends prickles of goose flesh in its wake. All senses on overload, and you squirm when his warm hand sits atop one of them. 

  “I heard that there was a place to rent here, and well yeah if you must know— I was researching that information for Molly and Gareth.” 

  The sensation is quick lived as he hurriedly empties the bowl and struggles to open the bandaid package, using his teeth instead and spitting the paper to the floor.

  “Really?” He questions, in almost a whisper, after expertly placing the bandaid over the cut. Leaning with palms on either side of you, his stare is playful, “cause Gareth told me they already found a place.” 

  Your blood runs cold and you can smell the brine of sweat on his bandana as he gets closer and boxes you in. Stuttering out a phrase somewhere between, ‘I-was-looking-for-my-other-friend’ and a muttered gasp, he only laughs. 

  The same click from his tongue ring you heard at the pool on the back of his teeth as he clucks his tongue sang in your ears, you’d do whatever you could to hear that again. Shaking his head, he looks at you with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, “you sure about that?” 

  Here he was again, laying it on thick and juicy. But two could play this game. 

  “Yeah,” you counter back, leaning forward into him, not giving him the upper hand but wanting to tease him— unable to forget the week of silence. 

  Whispering and curling your lips close to his ear you can hear the way he shudders, “thanks for the bandaids Doctor Munson,” your breath fans on his skin, and you ghost your lips across his cheek, “but, I gotta go.” 

  You didn’t. But the satisfaction of having him close and then you being the one to to push him away was fucking satisfying. 

  Eddie scoffs and pushes off from the counter, crossing his arms across the stained front of his once white shirt, “Two lies from those pretty little lips, sweetheart you’re just asking for trouble.” 

  “I’m not lying,” you say innocently, hopping down from the counter and walking towards the door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

  You were. 

  “That's three,” he says, eyes following you like he was lost. The flirty vibe he had been giving was falling away from him. 

  Turning the knob you glance over your shoulder, “looks like I’m out.”  

  In two long legged strides he’s beside you, pulling the door shut with a big hand over your own, his face looks almost flustered like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of you, “Go for a drive with me.” 

  “No,” you sing-song to him looking at your bare wrist as if you were wearing a watch, biting back with a teasing hint of venom of your sour attitude, “it’s late, maybe next week.” 

  He snorts a laugh and the dimples he had tried to hide earlier appear, making you almost melt into the worn linoleum. 

  “Ahh c’mon Pinocchio,” he teases, reaching to your cheek to brush a smear of dirt from it, “maybe a little fresh air will help you remember why you came here in the first place.” 

  “I’ve already ridden in that death trap on wheels, screw boy,” you say pointing a finger into his chest. 

  He crowds you again, licking his lips and biting his tongue ring through his perfect teeth to show you the silver bulb. 

  “Oh baby no, we aren’t driving the van,” his fingers wrap around the hem of your sleeve on your work uniform and he looks down at you with a devilish grin, “we’re taking my bike.” 

tag list: @em-guitar-pick @joejoequinnquinn @raven-rust @hiscrimsonangel @josephquinnsfreckles @strangerfreak @bebe07011 @b-irock @chloe-6123 @whenshelanded @take-everything-you-can @mandyjo8719 @parmawiolets @mommybaby-witch @hellfirefiend @nevermoreraven1 @emmaisgonnacry @secretdryrose @eddiemunson4life420 @littlegingerbat @tlclick73 @definitionwanderlust @yvedesi

[mercury2venus]

Moon River.

Angst because why not.

[ Terry Richmond Drabble, with my OC Venus.]

I stood across the room watching him maneuver through the kitchen. I could see the heartbreak forming in his eyes in every glance. His chest rising and falling with each rapid movement he’d make.

“ you can’t come and go as you please Venus. I’m tired of this charade. “ his voiced cut through the air like a sword.

“Just…stay. For a breath. Could we pretend you love me the way I love you. “

I sighed deeply. A few years ago I met Terry. We were young and I thought he was beautiful. Things got deep on his end quickly. But I couldn’t feel the same. Not when my world was so different from his.

I remember the look on his face when I told him this was as far as we would go.

5 years ago.

“I left her”. Terry said

I blinked slowly “ you left her…why”

“I can’t get you out of my mind Venus.”

I shot him a disapproving look. “ that’s…unfortunate Terrance. “

“It’s Terry “ he frowned.

“ I think it’s time we set some boundaries. Terry. “

He blinked at me, confused.

“ I have no intention on making this a thing. You wanted a relationship so you got with Denise who is actually very sweet. You can’t come back and attempt to convince me to do something I don’t want to do. “ I had to be stern. He needed to know.

Terry walked toward me slowly. “ why are you doing this V ? Why can’t we just try? You’re so quick to shut shit down. You can’t be judge and juror in my decisions.” He held my face in his large palms. “ say something please.”

I pulled away and stared him in the eye. “ why are you tormenting yourself with matters of the heart ? Maybe I should go. Coming here wasn’t a good idea. “ I grabbed my bag and started towards his front door. I felt Terry grab me by the hand. I didn’t turn around.

“ I’m doing too much. My fault that’s on me. Just don’t go Venus. “

So I stayed. Now here we are back on the same topic 5 years later.

Present time

“Am I that horrible to love Venus?” Terry mumbled.

“ No.”

“Then what is it? Just tell me. “

“You’re just.. not the one.”

“You’re lying”

“I’m a liar” I shrugged

I heard Terry sigh, “ stop…stop with the excuses ..stop fighting me Venus.” He ran his hands down his face. He looked exasperated. I felt guilt bubble at the bottom of my stomach, slowly creeping up searching for its freedom.

“ I can’t love you Terry..not the way you need. Not the way you want. I apologize truly, I let you buy a one way ticket to my heart, not telling you that the destination isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m so sorry. But you’re not meant to stretch my heart strings and surely not meant to stretch my legs past your shoulders at 4am. Not anymore. This has gone on long enough. I just hope we can remain friends. “

When I finally looked at him..his eyes were red. Mouth agape and his entire being cried hopeless. I walked up to him “ Goodbye Terry.” I whispered. I made my way to the door feeling numb. I did what needed to be done. I almost left till I heard him speak. In a faint whisper he said his last words to me “ Thank you..for telling me. Goodbye to you too Venus.”

That was the end, I walked out of the door yet, that was 30 minutes ago. I found myself sitting against the wall on the outside of his apartment. I replayed all of our memories. What was it about Terry that made me so rigid. Was it me ? Have I convinced myself I am not worthy of his love ? I stayed there for a bit, a familiar melody began to play from his home. Our favorite song.

My dream maker, my heart breaker

wherever you’re going

I’m going that way

Two drifters off to see the world

Such a crazy world you’ll see

We’re all chasing after our ends

Life’s just around the bend, my friend

Moon river and me.

I closed my eyes. Maybe next lifetime.

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Lost to the Skies: Part 3

A Bob Floyd x Reader mini series

Warnings: Lots of Fluff and Angst, Sexual Themes, Sadness and Loss, Tragedy, Alcohol, Swearing

Masterlist

———————————

18+ Only

———————————

Part 3: A Tragedy

———————————

You and Bob wrote to one another as often as possible, and he called when he was able to.




You spoke to Nat often, but hadn’t heard a word from Rooster since the day he stormed off your porch.




It had been 4 months, and it was only 2 more months if they didn’t get extended before they got home, and you were absolutely itching for the day you could kiss Bob again.




You missed everyone, you longed for a proper hang out with Nat, and to try and repair things with Rooster. You just wanted things to go back to normal, at least as much normal as they could be.




You relationship had only gone from strength to strength over the last few months. You and Bob had somehow really gotten to know one another through your letters, and they really were love letters, each of them folded neatly in your bedside drawer.




“My dearest, beautiful Y/N,




We’ve been apart for 3 months but it feels like an eternity. Every day the thought of coming home to you gets me through the hardships we face and the war zones we encounter. I wish I could tell you more about my day to day, but just know that the idea of you fills me with the strength to see it through.




In the mornings the first thing I think about is you and how I long to hold you again. At night I fall asleep thinking and dreaming about you and your body against mine. I have never felt such love before, and it physically pains me when I realise we’re only halfway through deployment and that I have to wait another lifetime to see you.




In other news, Rooster still hasn’t spoken a word to me, and most days he sits alone. I promise I am doing everything I can to repair this, but I don’t regret a thing. I would do it all over again a thousand times just to be able to hold you again.




I am utterly, unequivocally, painfully in love with you, princess. I cannot wait to show you just how much when I’m home.







Love,

Your Bobby.”







You were excitedly getting ready for your scheduled face time with Bob that afternoon, making sure you looked perfect to remind him what waited for him when he returned, eagerly trying to pass the time.




You watched the clock and finally as it struck 4pm, you sat on your couch and waited, battery fully charged.




5 minutes passed but you chalked it up to scheduling issues, and waited eagerly, impatiently scrolling through tv channels on mute.




4:30pm came and went, and still no phone call. You started to worry, but figured again there may be scheduling issues, and that he would call when he could, so you busied yourself around the house with your phones volume on loud.




By 7pm you really became worried. Bob would never forget, he made every call exactly as scheduled without fail, ever the punctual gentleman.




Frustratingly, you had no way to check, so you eventually went to bed around 10pm and hoped he’d call you the next day.




The next day, you checked your phone as soon as you woke up. Nothing.




The rest of the day passed much the same, and every time your phone went off, your heart jumped excitedly, only to deflate when you realised it wasn’t him.




A week went by without word, and you struggled to focus on work, so much so your boss sent you home for the day. You decided to visit the military base’s visitors centre in the hopes they could find out what was happening.




You pulled up to the gates and filled in a visitors form before parking up and walking inside, making a beeline for the woman at the desk.




“Hello.” You said, out of breath. “I was hoping to find out about someone who’s been deployed, I just wanted to check if he’s ok.”




The woman nodded and clicked on her computer, “Sure honey, what’s his name and status?”




You confirmed his name and that he was a WSO and his deployment details that you knew.




The woman typed into her computer and had a look, scouring the screen behind her glasses. Her eyes flitted to you for a second, suddenly serious.




“And what’s your name and relationship to him, honey?”




You confirmed your full name, “and I’m… his girlfriend, I guess.”




The woman looked over the details on the computer, her eyes nervously flicking to you ever so often.




You held your breath.




“I’m really sorry darling, your details haven’t yet been added to his authorised list, or to his emergency contact, so we can’t release any information at the moment. I’m sure someone will contact you shortly.” She said apologetically.




You knew Bob likely had not had time to add you to the approved contact list, but her words made you worry. “Contact me shortly? Has something happened?”




The woman took a deep breath, “I’m afraid I can’t release that information.”




You left the centre a bundle of nerves and in a daze, barely remembering the drive home, and spent the rest of the day writing letters to post to Nat and Rooster.




The next day you sent the letters, and waited eagerly for a response, hoping one of them could shed some light on the situation.




When another month had passed and you still had not heard back, you tried to tell yourself that these letters could take a while to reach them and vice versa, and that it was likely they were actually just busy.




It was only another 2 weeks until they were due to return anyway, so you’d just try and keep your mind occupied until then, and everything would be ok.




You returned to work as normal and when people asked why you had been away, you lied and told them you had been sick. You forced a smile and got on with life as usual.




The return date had finally arrived and you eagerly got ready, impatiently waiting for 2pm.




You got to the docks early, securing a spot close to the end where they would be. You eyed the ocean and scanned up and down the horizon, waiting for something to appear. A tiny dot eventually emerged far away, and you watched as their ship appeared on the horizon and slowly made its way to you, as the docks began to fill up with people.




Your leg bounced anxiously and your heart thudded against your chest. You couldn’t wait to see their faces.




Finally after what felt like forever, the ship docked and the military men and women were allowed off, and your eyes searched the crowd for any familiar faces.




Eventually you spotted Nat, and she made eye contact, and you jumped up and waved at her excitedly. Nat, however, did not look excited to see you, her face a picture of sadness and anxiety, eyes red and puffy.




Behind her, Rooster whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, walking away from your direction. Rooster slowly walked through the crowd that had formed in front of you, his eyebrows pinched.




You forced a smile as he approached, your stomach twisting with nerves.




“Hey Roo.” You said softly. Part of you already knew what was coming. “Where… where’s Bob?”




Rooster’s shoulders slumped and his eyes moved from the ground to yours, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”




That was all he had to say. You felt your body grow hot as waves of nausea ran through you, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You began to shake before you really registered what was happening.




“Tell me. You have to say it.”




“Bob died, honey, he’s gone.”




Rooster wrapped you in his arms just as your knees gave out under you. “No.” You whimpered, and then the floods of tears took over, and you began to scream.




The crowd surrounding you knew what that meant, and sympathetic faces ushered others away, to give you space to breathe and grieve.




Rooster held you in his arms as you broke down on the ground. Nat, Javy, Jake and Reuben joined you, all had clearly also been crying. No one dared to bring up how Mickey was also missing, now was not the time.




Eventually you managed to ask what had happened, still lying on the floor half wrapped in Roosters arms. No one said anything.




You became angry and looked up at them and then at Rooster. “Bradley. Tell me.” You demanded through the tears.




“Bob and Fanboy were paired together for a mission, Phoenix was out sick with food poisoning-“ he began to explain, your eyes flitted up to Nat who was bawling and barely able to contain herself next to Jake.




Rooster continued, “They didn’t come back, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”




You spent the next few weeks in bed, heartbroken and unwilling to do anything. Nat ended up spending a few nights with you, also heartbroken having lost 2 of her closest friends, and knowing had she not been sick, that would have been her.




One day, you and Nat hibernated in your bed, hoodies pulled over your faces to shield your eyes from the light, splitting headaches from all the crying had you feeling quite sensitive to stimuli, when there was a knock on your door.




You didn’t move, quite keen to ignore whoever it was, so Nat got up and made her way to the door.




A couple minutes later she returned with Rooster.




“Hey, kid.” He said softly from the door.




You half heartedly lifted a hand and then let it fall back onto the bed, not even sure you had the energy to say hello.




Rooster sighed, “Nat, can I get a minute with Y/N?”




“Yeah,” she nodded, eyes puffy, “I should get home anyway. Call me if you need anything.”




You waved goodbye to Nat and Rooster climbed onto the bed next to you.




“You okay?” He asked.




“I’m fine.” You responded softly, removing the hoodie from your face, “can’t you tell?”




Rooster let out a soft chuckle, “Your sense of humour’s back, that’s a good thing right?”




You burst into tears suddenly, something you’d been doing at random moments over the last few weeks.




“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Come here.” Rooster cooed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.




You sobbed into his t-shirt, the smell of the beach on his clothes slowly calming you down.




Eventually you sniffled away your last tear and sighed frustratedly, “I’m never gonna feel normal again, am I?”




Rooster sighed and gave you a little squeeze, “When my mom died, I thought I’d never feel normal again. The pain never goes away, but it does become manageable, and there will be days where you will feel normal. Eventually you’ll have more good days than bad, kid.”




You nodded, “Thanks, Roo.” You made no move to get up off of him, quite comfortably tucked under his arm.




“I’m always here for you if you need me, you know what right?”




You did know, you could tell that he really cared about you, despite having hurt him in the past. He was there for everyone despite also grieving the loss of his friends.




You decided, even if just for Roosters sake, you were going to pull yourself together and try to be there for him and for everyone else that was hurting.




The next 6 months passed, and the pain you felt began to subside a bit, but was always there as a painful reminder of what you had lost.




In the beginning you were furious no one called you to tell you what had happened, but you remembered that as you weren’t on his emergency contact list, they weren’t allowed to disclose that to you, and over time the anger also subsided.




You began hanging out with the squad more, and spending quality time with Nat, and as a group you mourned, and as a group you healed.




You could tell Rooster still had feelings for you, but you weren’t quite ready to move on yet. It was nice to have him around, and you enjoyed his company, so one day when he built up the courage to ask you for dinner, you made it clear you were nowhere near ready to date again, but you would love to have dinner as friends.




Rooster picked you up that night, and told you how beautiful you looked in your flowery dress. You thanked him and made a joke that his shirt matched your dress, and the drive to the restaurant was pleasant.




If Rooster was nervous, he didn’t make it obvious, and it made you feel better about the night ahead. If we wasn’t nervous, surely it wasn’t a date.




The restaurant was packed but Rooster had reserved a nice little table close to the edge of the room, out of the hustle and bustle of the busy patrons.




“This place is great, how did you find it?” You asked, commenting on how beautiful the ocean looked outside of the windows, even in the dark.




“A friend recommended it, apparently the pasta is to die for.” He brushed a hand nervously through his hair.







You knew it took a lot for him to get over what had happened and to ask you to dinner, and you felt bad he was so nervous, you stretched out a hand and squeezed his, “I know exactly what I’m getting then. Thank you for taking me out, Roo. I needed this.”




You chatted for an hour as you drank and ate, laughing and genuinely enjoying each others company, feeling better than you had in a while, but then suddenly, just before dessert, Rooster, who had previously been staring at the way the moon refracted against the sea, stood from his seat, pale as a sheet.




“Sorry kid, I… I’ll be right back.” He stammered, quickly disappearing into the busy restaurant.




You watched him go, hoping he was ok. Maybe he’d eaten something bad, or the pasta wasn’t to his liking.




Your eyes slowly scanned the restaurant as you turned your head back to the table, smiling at all the happy couples and so wishing you felt the same, but also glad you were gradually beginning to feel better.




Your eyes swept briefly over the big windows facing the bay, the moonlight glistening but otherwise pitch black. You looked back at the table but immediately did a double take as your brain registered what you had just seen, or what you thought you’d seen.




You stared out the window for a while, trying to spot it again. Nothing.




You shook your head and folded your fingers together, resting your chin against them while you waited for Rooster to get back, the noise of the restaurant doing little to sooth your suddenly frazzled nerves.




You glanced out of the window again, and your heart jolted as you saw it once more. Unsure if you were imagining things, you got up out of your seat and cupped your hands against the glass, peering through them.




It was pitch black, and you sighed. You pulled away, but just then, almost as if teasing you, you saw it.




The glint of a pair of military grade glasses looking back at you from the darkness.




——————————




The end.

Taglist: @princesssunderworld

[bachissidehoe]

the introduction

chapter 1 of it's classy not classic. [bachisagi]

Though it’s already been a day, the buzzed feeling of scoring yet another game winning goal still sits fresh in Isagi Yoichi’s mind. It’s not a new feeling, but it’s one he can’t live without. The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net is his white noise that helps him sleep at night, his alarm that wakes him up in the morning, his motivation for living this life. Nothing can even compare to it, and time and time again he’s been shown that very few people understand what that’s like. He’s only met a few people like him in his lifetime, many of them from Blue Lock over 5 years ago.

Being the current number 1 striker in the world comes with its fair share of responsibilities that don’t involve constant focus on the game, which is honestly insane to Isagi. He recalls his coach, Noel Noa, talking with him before about the expectations society has for famous people. Interviews, charities, parties, way too many things that aren’t simply being on the field. Isagi would much prefer not to do any of this stuff. 

But today is one of those days where an interview is required. Though he hates it, he’s made sure to put substantial effort into maintaining positivity. The last thing he wants is unneeded negative attention that distracts from the game itself. When Isagi solidified his dream of becoming the number 1 striker, he did not expect it would come with all of this garbage. 

Regardless, he’s learned to be fine with it, even though it is fairly confusing to someone like him. 

“So Isagi Yoichi, what do you tend to do to wind down after a big game like the one yesterday?” The interviewer asks, staring at him with a fake smile and perhaps the brightest pair of blue eyes he’s ever seen. She does look like someone who should be a TV personality, he understands why she became a successful sports journalist. 

“Well, I usually just go back to my apartment and review the match, then try to get plenty of sleep.” He answers. The bland truth. 

“Hm. No celebratory food or drink? Hanging out with anyone?” 

“I mean, sometimes.” He adds a fake chuckle. He’s practiced that one for a while.

“Ah, so do you have anyone special in your life, a girlfriend perhaps?” The interviewer continues.

Isagi rakes his fingers through his slicked back raven hair, shifting a bit in his seat. This question again huh? It’s asked constantly, it makes him wonder if people care about the game or they just want some drama. According to Itoshi Rin, who also gets asked the same thing quite a lot, it’s something society assumes when someone decently attractive reaches a certain age. At age 22 and apparently of above average attractiveness (though Isagi can’t see it), the world expects that he’d have someone he’s dating or interested in. It doesn’t make much sense to Isagi.

Plus, he’s answered the question probably a thousand times (an exaggeration, but it certainly feels like a thousand), how many different answers should he give until they stop asking?

“Oh, I don’t really, like-” He pauses, realizing he’s probably flushed. It’s an embarrassing question. “Girls. Or anything like that.” He finishes with a sigh, flashing a light smile afterward. 

The entire interview process has always been something stressful for Isagi. He feels his heart race in a bad way, he hates sitting backstage in a fancy suit and tie with makeup on his face that just makes him feel heavy. But he’s been lucky enough to never have said anything in an interview that turned out to be harmful or provoke a negative response from anyone. He’d like to keep it that way. 

He assumes he completed this interview easily as well, since the interviewer didn’t seem to react negatively to anything he said. The exhaustion from the interview is enough to make him more tired than any physically grueling game he’s ever played, enough to force his tired body directly into his bed the minute he gets home. Somehow, Isagi finds that talking to unfamiliar people is way more exhausting than physically exerting himself for hours of intense gameplay. 

It’s over though, the interview thing. At least until Noa sets him up for another one. 

Or. 

That’s what he thought happened. 

Isagi sees the light of day through his tired blue eyes, waking up to the sounds of the repeated vibration of his phone invading his dreamy state. He groggily reaches over, his heavy hand collapsing on his bedside table to rummage for his phone. Within seconds, he’s wide awake, his pupils expanding further by the second as he processes the hundreds of posts, mentions, and calls he’s received in the last twelve hours. 

The first thing he does is open a message from Noa, mumbling it to himself as he reads, purely out of shock for what it contains. 

Noel Noa: Isagi, I’m proud to hear about your wholesome coming out story in yesterday’s interview. Though I wish we discussed this before the interview itself, I want you to know that I’m happy for you. 

Fuck.

What the fuck is he talking about?

Isagi rolls out of bed, pacing back and forth as he reads some of his Twitter mentions.

Bravepurple: not @isagiyoichi coming out yesterday omg. I mean we all figured but…

Puffinxconcretex: WAHT this is HUGE FOR JAPAN LGBT!!!! @isagiyoichi

Darksnowy67: look at him aakahihighih he’s so cute ab it too i would diE FOR HIM @isagiyoichi 

Um_actually_: no but fr, having a gay soccer player is big for us @isagiyoichi 

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. 

Isagi paces, his shaky hands scrolling endlessly through mentions and posts of support and congratulations. They’re all quote tweeting one single clip from his interview. The one where he didn’t even realize exactly what he said. 

He opens the short clip, the sound of his own voice blaring through his phone’s speakers.

“Oh, I don’t really like girls, or anything like that.” 

“Really? That’s nice to hear! Good for you!” 

“Thanks. Yeah, all that stuff can be stressful, but I’m happy where I’m at now.” 

Isagi Yoichi- had no idea he was coming across that way. Now, hearing it back, he totally came out as gay to that interviewer. 

Fuck, bro. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, still sticky with gel from yesterday. He really should take a shower. Maybe it’ll help him calm down. 

At least everyone’s overwhelmingly supportive right? There are way more comments expressing happiness and support for his bravery than people against it. Thinking about it broadly, if Isagi were to make any mistake, he’s glad it’s one where society is in support of him. He should just post something and clear it up, express gratitude for the support but he didn’t mean it that way, what he meant to express was that he’s not looking for a relationship, not that he’s gay. 

As he steps out of his hot shower, beads of water dripping from his soppy hair, he fully realizes the gravity of the situation he’s caused. In his approximately 10 minute shower, his notifications have nearly doubled, an article has been released, and this fake coming out story has gone viral beyond his belief. 

He can’t help but read the article, which forces him to completely disregard the idea of being honest about it. The article in question, published by a popular pop culture magazine, details the importance of sports maintaining representation of LGBTQ+ members. With Isagi’s story, they’re slowly breaking down the walls of sports being a “straights only” activity. The article warns, however, that queer baiting is a harmful practice, and cautions organizations from trying to appeal to different communities using this tactic. 

Queer baiting. 

Huh. 

Isagi’s never heard of that term, but upon looking it up, yeah. That’s exactly what he’d be accused of doing if he were to come clean. Turns out that relaxing shower just put him right back where he began. 

He should head out, go for a walk, maybe go practice. Anything but doom scroll through supportive messages that are based on a complete miscommunication. 

He sighs to himself, moving to check Instagram instead. Maybe the news hasn’t made it over there yet. 

Upon opening the app, the first picture he sees is that of a familiar face. It’s Bachira Meguru, an old friend of Isagi’s from Blue Lock, at the game from the other day. He didn’t even realize Bachira was there, he should have reached out. It would have been nice to catch up. Bachira was always fun to be around during their time at Blue Lock, they played great together and enjoyed each other’s company. He was one of the few people Isagi ever met that shared his love for soccer so intensely. One of the only ones to ever understand.

The two of them still talk occasionally, but not enough for Isagi to know anything about what Bachira’s doing now. Maybe it would be helpful to get some advice from him, Bachira would probably understand the situation Isagi’s gotten himself into. He really can’t go to his coach or his teammates- asking someone on the outside might be his best option.

He takes a breath and decides to go for it. 

Isagi Yoichi: Hey man! You were at the game the other day?

Within seconds, Bachira replies. That guy surely doesn’t miss a beat.

Bachira Meguru: Hiiii, yeah I was there. Great game!

Isagi Yoichi: I didn’t even realize you were in Tokyo, you should have told me lol

Bachira Meguru: yea im here for work for a while

Isagi Yoichi: damn no way! Where are you staying?

Bachira Meguru: IMG602.heic

Bachira Meguru: not far from the stadium actually, im exploring today

It’s a selfie of Bachira holding up a peace sign in front of a cafe. It looks like he quickly snapped the picture, it’s even a little blurry. But he wears a wide smile, the same silly smile he always had on his face back in the Blue Lock days. Isagi can’t help but smile himself, Bachira’s attitude always brightened him up. As Isagi looks at the picture more, he realizes that he’s actually quite familiar with the cafe Bachira currently stands in front of. In fact, it’s about a block away from his apartment. 

Isagi Yoichi: no way you’re at Honeybee? I live right down the street from there

Bachira Meguru: ayyy! Come meet me!

Honestly, this is perfect. This will help Isagi talk this out with someone who isn’t connected to the situation, and also connect with an old friend. Out of all the surprises he’s experienced so early in the morning, this one is at least positive. 

“Isagi!” Bachira calls out, noticing him first. 

He looks…stylish? Much better with his sense of style than Isagi remembers. He wears a fitted beanie with a pair of baggy slacks and an oversized sweater with a collared shirt underneath. He still has those same yellow highlights, he’s had them for so long Isagi’s starting to wonder if they’re natural. 

“Hi Bachira!” He jogs up to his old friend, going for a handshake but getting an excited hug instead. He should have expected that much, Bachira really hasn’t changed a bit. 

“Great to see ya, I figured you’re busy, so I didn’t let you know I was around or anything.” His golden eyes are bright and cheerful, same old Bachira Meguru. Just a ray of chaotic sunshine.

“Nah, I would have loved to see you, I’m so glad you made it to the game.” 

“It was a great one. Made me wish I was out there.” He smiles, much softer this time. 

Isagi sighs. “Yeah, me too. I bet you could still out dribble me any day.” He chuckles.

“You sure about that, egoist?” 

“Oh stop, I escaped that prison, it’s everything in me not to shake in fear every time I think about it.” Isagi jokes, sitting down across from Bachira at a little table outside the cafe. 

This is one of Isagi’s favorite cafes, he often grabs smoothies and snacks from here after practice.

“You’ll never escape it, MWAH HAHA!” Bachira exclaims, dramatic as ever. 

“So what are you doing now?” Isagi changes the topic, scanning the menu while speaking as if he doesn’t already have the thing memorized.

“I’m an artist, carried on the family business in a sense.” He explains. “What should I get?” He asks, referring to the menu.

“I always get the strawberry kiwi delight, I’m not too big on coffee.” Isagi points to his selection on the menu.

“Ah, I don’t drink caffeine either, I’ve been told it would make me overpowered.” He jokes. “I was between the strawberry kiwi one or the passionfruit?” 

“That one’s great too.” 

“Okay, I’ll get that if you let me have a sip of yours.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Isagi says, walking to the counter to place the orders for the both of them, only to return a few minutes later with the drinks, Bachira waiting eagerly to chug the fruit smoothie. “So how’d you even get into art? I know your mom’s also an artist, but you never seemed interested in it.” He takes his seat once again, sipping on his drink. 

“I was so bored without soccer, I had to do something.” Bachira laughs, reaching for Isagi’s drink. 

Isagi hands it over, watching as Bachira takes a short sip. 

“I like yours better.” He sighs. 

“You can have more if you want.” Isagi chuckles. Somehow, he’s always felt like he’s babysitting Bachira in a way, and even six years later, it hasn’t changed at all. He still acts like a glorified elementary schooler, but this time with money. Apparently, being a famous artist pays damn well. 

“Yippee!” He snatches Isagi’s strawberry kiwi drink, trading him for the passionfruit smoothie. Isagi doesn’t mind, he’d rather Bachira be happy. “Oh, by the way, I heard you’re gay?” 

Isagi almost spits out his drink.

“I, uh-” 

“Hah! It’s fine!” Bachira giggles.

“No, I actually kinda wanted to bring that up, because I’m actually not gay.” Isagi blurts out, rushing through the sentence before Bachira can congratulate him too much. 

“Uh, what? I saw that clip-” 

“No see that’s the thing. I didn’t mean that. I meant to say I don’t want a relationship, I didn’t realize it was coming out like that.” 

“Hm, “coming out” like that.” Bachira chuckles.

Isagi sighs. He’s never been able to tell if Bachira has a serious bone in his entire body. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Bachira takes another sip of Isagi’s drink. “I believe you, why didn’t you just say you didn’t mean it?” 

“I was going to, then I realized people might get upset about queer baiting- or whatever it’s called- and I don’t want negative drama…” He trails off.

“I see your predicament.” 

The two fall into a silence. It leads Isagi to wonder what exactly has gone on in Bachira’s life since Blue Lock. Clearly he’s doing very well for himself, but it almost makes him feel bad that he wouldn’t keep in touch. And here they are, just picking right up where they left off. 

“I feel like maybe the best thing to do is wait it out. People will get over it eventually. Then you can bring it back up later if you do ever want to get into a relationship and need to clear it up, that way the drama has already died down.” Bachira suggests. 

“Hm. Yeah.” Isagi ponders. It does make sense just to wait it out. It feels disingenuous, but the entire thing is already just a lie anyway. Waiting until things die down may be his best bet. Maybe later he can “realize” he’s bisexual instead, in case he ever does get with a girl. But that’s so far down the road that he feels like that’s a bridge he doesn’t have to worry about crossing right now. “That’s actually a lot simpler than I thought.” 

“You can count on me to have the best ideas about everything.” Bachira giggles, taking another long swig of his- well Isagi’s- drink.

++++++

Isagi feels much better about his situation by the time he goes to sleep that night- talking things out with Bachira was definitely helpful for his mental state. 

But waking up the next morning feels like a repeat of the day before, notifications buzzing in his ear over and over before he can even realize it’s morning. It feels like he’s traveled back in time to yesterday. 

But this time, perhaps it’s worse. 

As he opens his phone, he realizes it definitely just got worse. 

LATEST: #1 Striker Isagi Yoichi is dating Pop Culture Artist Bachira Meguru

[fuiabarcelos]

Supernatural (Taylor’s version)

Hello hunters and Swifties!

I love reading supernatural stories inspired by songs and I'm addicted to Taylor Swift, so I decided to recommend stories inspired by her songs.

If I find more stories I might think about doing a part 2 or an update.

1 - Speak Now: By @darling-i-read-it

“Based on the song speak now”

Info: One shot - 1100 Words

Warnings: “Hexing being a bad thing, weddings, Fluff.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

2 - Speak Now: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7, Episode 8) During a trip that was meant to be a vacation, (Y/n) and Dean are met with some very surprising new from Sam and an old face.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: One shot - 1695 Words.

Warnings: “Drugging, threats of violence” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

3 - When I saw your face: By @seriesxwriting

The story of how enchanted it was to meet Sam Winchester.

Info: One shot - 2069 Words.

Warnings: “Drinking, swearing?” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

4 - I Remember it All Too Well: By @bi-bard

“The story of the two hunters that lasted far longer than they should’ve. Each chapter shows that Sam and (Y/n) were either meant to last a lifetime or fall apart at the seams. (I used season 11 as a reference for ages)”

Info: One shot - 4905 Words.

Warnings: “Break-up, unhealthy relationship, arguing, cussing, I made Sam a terrible person and I'm not sorry about it.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All too well (10 minute version).

5 - All You Had to do Was Stay: By @hellooo-tricksters

“When Sam jumped into the pit, you were devastated, you thought you would never get him back. Then he returns and he is not who he used to be, he is rude, aggressive and cheats on you. He goes, and after a year he returns at your door.”

Info: One shot -  2172 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, a little angst and maybe a little fluff too.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All you had to do was stay. 

6 -  How You Get the Girl:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“ It has been 6 months since you’ve last seen Sam. And now he decides to show up? “

Info: One shot - 1627 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, smut if you squint I think…”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: How You get the girl.

7 - Welcome to New York: By @d-s-winchester

An AU series, where each chapter is inspired by a song from the album 1989.

Info: Series - 13 Chapters. 

Warnings: “Angst, drinking, language, smut sorta” (Most of the chapters have no warning.)  Warnings described by the creator.

Songs: Welcome to New York, Blank space, Style, Out of the Woods, All You Had To Do Was Stay, Shake it off, I Wish You Would, Bad blood, Wildest Dreams, How You Get The Girl, This Love, I Know Places and Clean.

8 - Gorgeous: By @justagirlinafandomworld

“Sam Winchester ruined your life. And he might know it.”

Info: Drabble - 100 words.

Warnings: “Secondhand embarrassment probably. Maybe feel a little called out?”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Gorgeous.

9 - Paper rings: By @bi-bard

“(Season 12) After everything happened with the British Men of Letters and the return of Mary Winchester, Sam does a lot of thinking about his future. Specifically, his future with his partner.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: Drabble - 983 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of torture” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Paper rings.

10 -  The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7) Sam had been struggling since he had come back from the cage. As his condition worsens, (Y/n) tries everything to help him.”

Info:  Drabble - 746 Words

Warnings: “hallucinations, past trauma”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Peace.

11 - Look at this idiotic fool that you made me: By @bi-bard

“(Y/n) finally puts their foot down with Sam. Sam trips over it.”

Info: Drabble - 787 Words

Warnings: “mentions of sex”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: illicit affairs

1 -  Head First, Fearless: By @swiftlymoniquesblog

“ “But you’re just so cool, run your hands through your hair, absent mindedly makin’ me want you” from Fearless by Taylor Swift!”

Info: One shot - 2048 Words

Warnings: All the fluff!  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Fearless.

2 - Enchanted:  By @d-s-winchester

“All I can say is I was, Enchanted to meet you”

Info: One shot - 1428 Words.

Warnings: “Language, fluff” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

3 - Speak now:  By @d-s-winchester​

“Speak now or forever hold your peace”

Info: One shot - 1305 Words.

Warnings: “None.” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

4 - Red:   By @d-s-winchester

“Missing him was dark gray, all alone”

Info: One shot -1048 Words

Warnings: “Sadness, heartbreak, death, dealing with death” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Red.

5 - All to well: By @the-winchester-pie​

Info: One shot - 2071 Words

Warnings: Angst?

Song: All too well. 

6 -  I’d Say I Love You Even at Your Darkest: By @bi-bard

“Doubt and guilt creeps in and convinces Dean to run for the hills. (Y/n) refuses to let Dean believe that they would ever be happier without him.”

Info: One shot - 1838 Words.

Warnings: “Self-doubt, arguing, cussing”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Forever winter.

7 - Style:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“Dean and the reader are in a no strings attached relationship since they met on a hunt. It passionate, steamy and complicated, but they keep returning on the same path, not matter which road they take.”

Info: One shot - 1869 Words.

Warnings: “Slight smut, mainly mentioning of it, maybe swearing, cheating?”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator. 

Song: Style.  

8 -  Dorothea: By @imaginestuffs

“Dean “doesn’t like” your music, or so he says.”

Info: Drabble - 913 Words.

Warnings: “ A few curse words I believe, and fluff!!”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Dorothea.

9 - Bloodmoonlit: By @moonlightspencie

“ Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).”

Info: One shot - 5400 Words.  

Warnings: “Drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Glitch.

1 -  I'll Let You In: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7 + 9) After gaining his memory back, Castiel has to leave to go help the Winchesters. (Y/n) promises to leave the door open to him. They weren’t expecting him to actually come back.”

Info: One shot - 2490 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of death”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: That’s When.

2 - Shake it off: By @kaz2y5-imagines

Dean and Sam find you and Castiel dancing "Shake it off" in the bunker.

Info: One shot - 1696 Words.

Warnings: None?

Song: Shake it off.

3 - Bad blood:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“Castiel finds the reader after they broke up 3 months ago. It was ugly, hard and painful, but now, now she works for Crowley. She’s a demon and she’s got all the right ways to show him what he did to her. He’ll pay.”

Info: One shot - 1439 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, torture...slightly… Demon!Reader”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Bad blood.

 4 - My lover:  By @swiftlymoniquesblog

Info: Drabble - 574 Words.

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of relationship doubts

Song: Lover.

5 -  I'm setting off, but not without my muse: By @bi-bard

“ Monsters are known for terrifying people. Some monsters even scare themselves.”

Info: One shot - 1575 Words. 

Warnings: “Character death, angst, suicide (seriously, read with caution)”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: The lakes.

6 -  And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were talking to me now: By @bi-bard​

“ (Y/n) had grown up with the Winchesters, but Castiel was the one who really took on a father role over the years. (Y/n) has to cope with losing him and having someone else claim to be his kid.”

Info: Drabble - 866 words

Warnings: “Mentions of death, grieving, Child!Reader”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Marjorie.

7 - Safe and sound:  By @d-s-winchester

Info: One shot - 1231 Words.

Warnings: None  - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Safe and sound.

If you guys know of more supernatural stories inspired by taylow swift songs, let me know as I might put them in part 2/update.

Enjoy the stories!

To the writers: You are amazing!

[wwemcumuscleslover]

Moving On

Dom Pascal X Reader X Hank Voight.

This day will be a celebration, not only for the three of you( 1st anniversary) but also Hank decide to finally moving on and live with you two.

Dom and you make a commitent on helping Hank felling like its home

The night ending on a fency dinner at some 5 star restaurant at Chicago.

Waking up is just part of a regular day, right. But not for the two of you, or should I say three of you. Today marks the 1st anniversary of a unique history that you never believe living in this lifetime. 

Everything begins when your place of work crashes down because of a fire that your boss makes just for the insurance and almost takes everyone’s life. On the day you met one of the most dashing men you've ever seen. Dom Pascal, chief of the 51, the most famous firefighters squad of Chicago, your heart was taken the moment he grabbed you and led you out the building.Your dating begins when he finally divorce his wife Monica. He bought a new apartment, since his wife stays with the house in the divorce process. Your life could not be more perfect, but what the odds with the next part of this journey.

You manage another job in some fancy boutique in downtown and another regular day a bunch of thieves, stoll the store next your’s. On the day you met Hank Voight, sergeant and leader of the intelligence division of CPD, he was the one who talked to you about the situation. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that somehow you also were captivated by that man. It takes like two months to figure out everything and realize that you are made to love both men. After talking with Dom and explaining the situation, it was really amazing how he agreed with that. In a casual dinner at Hank’s place everything was settled and the trio was created. But on occasion, Voight still wanna stay in his house, unlike Pascal, Voight is a widower and you respect his process of letting go. You knew that house has so much of him, his wife Camille, his son Justin and Erin, the girl he raised as his daughter.

Last month, Hank gave the news that you have been waiting so long, he wants to move in, but he desires to rent his house, instead of selling, lucky your cousin was coming to stay and built a life with his family, so Voight agreed to rent to them. Today it's the big day, you will have your two beloved men under the same roof. you feel like the luckiest woman, because you manage to have two of the most important men of the city in your house, mind and heart for good.

- So Baby! How will be the schedule be for today - Dom asks while wrapping his arms around you.

- I will pick my cousin and his family, which led me to see if it is too much for you to use the chief car and let me use yours. - You said while starting to serve breakfast.

- Just today? - ask Pascal with a sassy smile - Deal! 

It took 45 minutes to get fully ready for the day. Dom holds your hand on the way to the garage, once you reach his Jeep,he opens the door and proceeds to his side. The Way to the 51 was kind of messy, since the snow started falling way before the winter, which caused Dom to drive a little slower than usual. Once on the 51, you two share a hug and a long kiss.

Kelly Severide and Stella greet you once the kiss is finished, you waved back while Dom handed the car keys to you.

Your cousin was punctual as always and he was very excited with his new life in Chicago since his last address wasn’t safe enough. It is not like Chicago was so calm, but knowing a cop, Hank in this case, surely will help with the security he is looking for his family. At the first moment you guide the moving truck to the address, since you have an extra key, you planned to have their stuff dropped at home. Once it was done, the truck could finally return to his origins. Mellany and the kids, Alicia and Maddox stayed in the house and started to unpack their belongings, otherwise Teddy followed with you to the 21 district to sign the final paper on the rent contract.

Took like 20 minutes to arrive at the destination. Teddy and you follow through the front door, straight to the desk and greet Trudy.

Good Morning Sergeant Platt .

Good Morning Y/N! Looking for Voight Right!

He is in the Building?

She confirmed positively and allowed us to pass to the intelligence office. The place was very loud, you could manage to find out they were in the middle of a sexual crime investigation. 

The DNA sample on the rape test matches 2 unsolved crimes in the past 3 months - said Atwater 

A man named Collin Smith was investigated back those days, his DNA is 50 % Match with our unknown man, maybe a half sibling. - Kim told everyone before stares at us.

Y/N . - Voight approaches and hugs me before offering a handshake to Teddy. - Follow to my office, I got the papers.

Before Hank close the door, Dante said that back in the past, the investigation might had a theory that Collin could be hidden his half sibling and the office suggest to break his bank registers to check if some money was send to someone, Voight order to check, Dante said that he take free will to call the A.S.A so they can have a warrant to proceed.

She will be here in 5 minutes - Dantes says.

Perfect, time enough to finish this and follow with the investigation.

Hank grab some pen and the contract, Teddy sigh first, quickly and simple, but for Voight was more hard, signing those papers, even if were rent papers, was still like he was closing a important chapter of his life, you squeeze his arm, like calm him and he finally took the pen and sign his name on the page. Just in time, because the A.S.A. has just arrived at the office. Hank introduces her to you.

Y/N, this is NIna Chapman. - Hank grabs your hand. - Nina, this is my beloved Y/N

Pleasure to meet you - You realise that her face didn’t match her words. - So what you gotta.

Sugah, there are a few boxes on the Durango, can you take our place for me. - Hank asked. 

Sure, where’s the keys? 

He handles the keys to you and requests that Burgess show you the way to his car, in the way you ask why that lady, Nina, was so rude to you. 

Well, isn’t easy for her to see Hank with another person when she wants him. 

That 's New for me. - You open the back.of Voight’s car and grab one of the two boxes with his name on it, Teddy helps with the other one.

You just say there were 3 boxes with the name Camile on it, he will be probably passing to a donation center, you assume not so sure about. You make a note inside your head to talk with Pascal to make sure the transition will be peaceful.

All ready baby. - Hank asks. 

Yes, the Dinner is 8 pm if you could make home around 7pm. - Just a little reminder thought you said to yourself, knowing Hank wasn’t the guy who forget stuffs

Thanks for trusting us with your house Mr Voight - Your cousin said. 

Well, I trust Y/N, soo i know you guys are good people, she won’t betray me.- Hank put his hand on your shoulder.

Of Course baby. - You said kissing his cheek. - See you later at our place.

You just reached Dom's Jeep in order to process with the daily schedule. With your side eye you catch Nina staring at you with an unpleasant face, you just pass by her like she is nothing to worry about, but the lady seems to be offended by that.

I still can't believe he chose a bitch like you, instead of a woman like me - She kind of spit this on our face - You think this is normal or even fair.

This is between Dom,Hank and I. - You said with a brave face - And You should mind your business, Kisses. - Finish the conversation and get into the car.

                                                                  

After your lunch, you just thought to yourself, maybe i should manage some jewelry to celebrate this, while in the pat to the store, you text then asking their ring size. The place is stunning, some gentle lady helps you all the way to find the perfect jewelry for the occasion. The next stop in your way was in the 51 firehouse, just to check on your other man.

Letting the jeep in the usual parking position, you saw Mouch on the entrance of the building cleaning some leaders with Hermann. Violet and Novak were finishing some reports.

Is Dom in the Building? -  You question.   

He is in his office - Violet answers.

You smile at them as a thankful gesture and proceed to the chief office. He welcomes you with a warm hug that you kindly reply with a soft kiss. you sit on the couch while Dom uses one of the front desk chairs.

So, how is our other guy feeling? - Dom question.

Well, it steals a big movie for him, but his solid committed with us. - You reply. - Divorce and being a widower are different processes of grief.

So let’s make the transition a comfortable process for him. -  Said him, completing the cenario.

Exactly. - Your excitement makes you jump into another passionate kiss that was cut off by a fire alarm. - Time to work.

You saw him walking out the door, like the incredible force of nature that he is, you heard Dom already given a few commands and you definitely were turned on like this morning by watching Voight leading his team to the crime scene. This feeling of having the two most powerful men of Chicago on your side is something only the luckiest woman on planet could ever have and if this makes you a Bitch, you will wear that crown with pride.

Y/N you're a luck bitch - Said to yourself before leaving the Dom’s Office.

You left the firehouse and returned home to drop Voight’s boxes, while placing the boxes on the kitchen table, you accidentally hit on the top of one and opened it by mistake. Your attention was caught by a portrait, it was Daniel’s birthday, Hank’s Grandchild. You recognize his son Justin, with Olivie, Daniel ‘s Mom and Erin His Foster daughter. With a clean towel at your hand, you carefully clean the photo and place it on the balcony that separates the kitchen from the TV room. The rest you will let him find the best way for him, it will help him feel at home. it was required for you to return at the firehouse, since the car was with you and Dom wasn’t allowed to go beyond the station with the chief car if it wasn't for work purposes. 

Once in the firehouse, you stay the rest of his shift, watching him doing the bureaucracy of the job, like filling reports, all the paperwork to make sure every call was properly solved inside the book. When the clock reaches 6 pm, Dom closes everything and finishes his work for the day. He walks you out by hand and what a surprise to see Voight's car next to the jeep.

Is done for you too - Ask Pascal 

The Case was pretty easy to solve. - Says Hank 

The Half brother was involved?- You Question - Sorry, i couldn’t avoid - You apologize

Y/N! You paid attention. - Hank gives you a smile. 

Our girl is smart  - Pascal wrap his arm around your body and kiss your forehead

She is - Hank grabs your hand and kisses the knots of your fingers.

Once you saw your two men wearing their suits, you couldn't stop smile, like the cat from alice in the wonderland, they will be the most dashing gentlemen at Smith & Wollensky, the famous steakhouse on the Chicago River at Marina City, the place has a stunning view for the windy city and was perfect for celebrate the 1st year of your story.

you choose going with the Durango, the black dodge from Voight matches perfectly the social dress code.

The place was amazing. So stunning, since you made the reservation, you requested a table with the river view in order to have the city lights as part of the celebration. The excitement was out of the roof, you held your purse strongly thinking about the little surprise you had in store.

Your choose as a meal was equal, SIGNATURE FILET MIGNON, requested to be medium well done, with CAESAR SALAD, the drink you pick three MANHATTANS HORSE SOLDIER BOURBON, two perfect for the Men and one sweet for you.While the meal was prepared, you take the moment to reveal the surprise of the night.

I really thought that this night could have something special, so I just thought of some jewelry to kind of testify to this amazing journey of ours. - You open the ring box and unveil the ring trio.

In silver structure the boys ring was built with three lines, one of Sapphire, one of Rubi and between this a diamond line. while you're was built with three lines of silver, mimicking a hair braid with three small stones also the sapphire, rubi and diamond on the top.

Y/N, you're unbelievable. - Declares Pascal 

There's some meaning behind this - Question Voight

It's gonna be very cliche, but life can sometimes be cliche. - You Pick The first one and grab Voight's hand. - The Sapphire represents the man in blue. The Police. - After putting the ring on Hank’s finger, you get the other ring and Pascal Hand. - The Ruby in the burning flame, The Firefighter.

And the Diamond ? - Asked them together, while I was putting on Dom's ring.  

Oh My Gosh, speaking together!See, the universe is synchronizing us more than ever. - You said. - But answer your question. The Diamond is me, the shiny star in your life. - You said raising your hand with your ring on it.

Baby, you are a show off - Replay Dom.

Not to mention cocky - Complete Hank.

What! I’m marrying the two most important people in this life - You Said with a bright smile - I am totally allowed to be show off and cocky 

They simply smile back at you in the way you feel the butterflies on your stomach. The dinner arrived at our table. The meal was divine, the day couldn’t be more satisfying. Once the dinner is finished, the three of you take a simple walk under the gentle snow rain, stopping in the middle of the square just to look at the first Christmas decoration that was beginning to be displayed,you turn around looking at them and you could resist giving them a passionate kiss.

Let's go home gentlemen - You told grabbing their hands. 

They smile back, like confirming your request. The end of the night was marvelous, so full of love. You Knew it that was by far the hottest night at Chicago Winter. and  you could not wait to the next chapters of this amazing journey. The Firefighter, The Cop and The Luck Bitch.

@desimarie12 @witchygagirl @witchygagirlwrites like I promisse.

* Note IF there's some grammaticy mistake, english is not my mother language. The Correct helps but we never know.

Enjoy the ride.